Blissfully Yours. Velvet Carter

picked up the pastes and couldn’t believe how authentic the pieces looked. She’d sold the originals, making enough money to sustain herself for the duration of the proceedings.

      * * *

      “Ana! Ana!” yelled the children from the shelter when they saw the yellow scooter pull into the yard.

      New Beginnings was near and dear to Ayana’s heart. The small, privately run shelter relied on donations from generous patrons, and Ayana was at the top of that list. She didn’t have any children of her own and considered the kids at the shelter her babies.

      “Hey, guys! What’s happening?” Ayana hopped off the scooter, gathered as many children into her arms as she could hold and gave them all a huge hug.

      “Now, now, chilrin, leave Ms. Lewis be. Go now and do yo work,” Marigold, the shelter’s administrator, said as she came into the yard waving her hands and shooing the children away.

      “Did you get the shipment yet?”

      “All dose big boxes come, and me didn’t know what to do wit all dose clothes.” She smiled. “We thank ya.”

      “You’re welcome. It was no problem. All I did was collect clothes from friends of mine who were purging their closets.”

      “Ya do more than send clothes. Ya send checks too, and dey help keep dis place going.”

      Ayana looked a bit embarrassed; she didn’t like when Marigold praised her for helping. The shelter needed assistance, and she was just glad that she was now in a position to help.

      “And dat stuff you send look brand-new. Some of dem tings still had da tags on ’em.”

      “Yeah, I know. I only select clothes that are gently worn, if not new. Did you see the note attached to that blue dress? It’s for you.”

      “I saw it, but dat dress is too fancy fo me.”

      “It’s only a sundress.”

      “Yeah, a sundress by Ralph, uh...uh...”

      “Lauren. Ralph Lauren.”

      “Where me gonna wear some designer dress to? After me husband die, I don’t go out much.”

      “Well, you never know what life has in store. Maybe you’ll get invited to a party or asked out on a date. It’s always good to have a go-to dress in your closet.”

      “I no want no date. James was de love of me life and after he die, a piece of me died too.”

      “Marigold, you’re still a good-looking woman, and I’m sure James wouldn’t want you to be alone for the rest of your life.” Ayana sympathized with her friend but always tried to be encouraging.

      “James did tell me not to pine away for him for too long,” she said with a sorrowful look in her eyes.

      “See what I mean. James wouldn’t want you spending every night home alone.”

      “Okay, okay, me keep Mista Lauren. Ya wanna come in fo some lunch? Me make kingfish stew and coco bread.”

      “No, thanks. I already ate. I have to go back home and pack. I just came by to see if you got the clothes and to see you and the kids.”

      “We hate to see ya go.” Marigold gave Ayana a warm hug.

      “I hate to go, but duty calls.”

      The truth was, Ayana wasn’t looking forward to returning to New York, but her hiatus was over. The reality show that she starred in was resuming filming in a few days. She had spent two glorious months in Jamaica, eating her mother’s home cooking, taking long walks on the beach and meditating at her favorite place high in the Blue Mountains. The serenity and beauty of the island, and being surrounded by people who loved her, had rejuvenated her soul. Now Ayana was ready to resume her hot-blooded persona and tackle another season of Divorced Divas.

      Chapter 2

      “We’ll be starting our descent in the New York area shortly, so please return to your seats and fasten your seat belts.”

      Ayana heard the flight attendant’s announcement through the lavatory door. She looked in the mirror and was satisfied with her transformation. Gone was the girlish ponytail, replaced by a long, flowing, platinum-blond lace-front wig. She’d traded in her island uniform of cutoff blue jean shorts, sleeveless T-shirt and flip-flops for a sexy black-and-white Tom Ford pencil skirt that hugged her full hips. The matching chiffon blouse with blouson sleeves was secured around her slim waist with a wide black leather belt dotted with silver studs. Black-and-white layered necklaces and a pair of five-inch strappy platforms completed the high-maintenance look. She applied a double coat of ruby-red lipstick to her perfectly made-up face to add a pop of color. Ayana gathered her belongings and put them back in her Prada tote. She exited the lavatory and returned to her seat in first class.

      “Would you like anything else before we land?” asked the attendant.

      “I’ll have a glass of champagne. Actually, make it two.”

      After the attendant brought the drinks, Ayana drank the two flutes of bubbly and readied herself for any photographers or reporters who might be waiting for her once she deplaned. Divorced Divas led in the ratings due to Ayana’s prima-donna persona. The gossip rags were always trying to get dirt on Saturday Knight—Ayana’s name on the show—and stalked her on a regular basis. The latest story going around town was that Ayana was the reason Erick Kastell—her love interest on the show—had fled the country.

      “Welcome to New York, and thanks for flying with us today. You are now free to use your cell phones,” the pilot announced once they’d landed.

      As the plane taxied to the gate, Ayana called Reese. “Hey, girl, we just landed. Where are you?”

      “In the car, waiting outside of baggage claim.”

      “Okay. See you in a few.”

      Once the doors opened, Ayana put on a pair of oversize shades, retrieved her carry-on from the overhead bin and strutted down the pedway, into the terminal and out the door.

      “Saturday! Saturday Knight! Look this way!” a photographer yelled, snapping pictures as she strolled past.

      “Saturday, is it true you’re the reason Moses Michaels left his girlfriend, Lisa?” a reporter shouted.

      “Have you read Lisa’s tweets? She’s calling you a home wrecker,” another reporter blurted out.

      Ayana didn’t even glance in their direction, though that didn’t stop them from blurting out questions.

      “Is it true that you and Moses Michaels are dating?” another reporter shouted.

      Moses Michaels was the hot single moderator of the reality-show circuit. He and Saturday had gone out a few times, but it had not lasted.

      She kept walking, looking straight ahead as if they weren’t there. She saw Reese’s black Benz and concentrated on making it to the car without acknowledging the annoying paparazzi and reporters.

      “Hey, girl, welcome home.” Reese turned to kiss Ayana on the cheek. “Well, it isn’t such a good welcome with the media stalking you and accusing you of breaking up Moses and his girlfriend,” Reese said as Ayana settled into the car.

      “Their claims are totally untrue. Moses had broken up with his girlfriend before we’d started to date. Anyway, Moses and I are now just friends. The lies remind me of my nasty divorce,” she said, remembering the highly publicized proceedings.

      * * *

      During the divorce trial, reporters and photographers had lined the steps of the courthouse, begging for interviews and snapping pictures. Salacious details of their marriage had made interesting headlines. Ayana had been embarrassed to read about their rather unorthodox love life.

      Benjamin had leaked photos of Ayana dressed