Caroline rolled eyes at her younger sister. "Boy I swear! Let a n.i.g.g.a go to college and they come back siddity every time," neck rolling with each word.

"Maybe a lil' bit o college would of did you some good, Caroline," Emma surmised with a point of her fork. Her eldest daughter was 52 and a shift manager at a fast food restaurant.

Rhonda turned back to her niece. "What's your friend look like, Deena? Handsome?"

Deena's cheeks flushed scarlet. "Well-"

Grandma Emma's fork clattered to her plate. "Child, what is this foolishness? You think somebody here thinks this just your friend?"

Deena turned to her food, adamant about avoiding her grandmother's glare.

Emma sighed in exasperation. "Well, is he a good man at least?"

Deena looked up, surprised, smiling. "Very."

"Not liable to run off and leaves you with no kids, I 'spect?"

Grandma Emma glanced out the corner of her eye at Caroline and Keisha. Caroline stared back at her mother, saucily.

Deena thought of Tak's playful declaration while in Sayulita that he would accept no less than a dozen children from her.

"No," Deena a.s.sured her grandmother. "No chance of that."

"Well then child," she nodded to herself thoughtfully, prodding at black eyed peas with a fork. "When you finds a man you loves, you make sure you keep 'em. Any fool can tell you that."

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE.

Deena concentrated at her clock in an attempt to ignore the pulsating pain at her temples and the insufferable waves of nausea. Were it not the day they broke ground on Skylife she would've stayed home. But this was her opportunity to pose alongside Daichi, the city's mayor, and powerful businessmen who had the potential to be her next clients. So, she would spend the morning grinning for pictures with pangs of nausea and too high pumps, smiling a smile that never reached her eyes.

At the groundbreaking, William Henderson, the project's primary investor, spoke of the Skylife project as though he were the one to design it. It was a "re-envisioning of the Miami skyline" he said, and a challenge to investors everywhere to start rethinking their place in history. Would they rise to the challenge, as he had done, and create models for the future of environmentally conscious yet posh accommodations? Or would they fall short, as so many do, in making excellence meet conscientiousness?

As she listened to his jabber, Deena's head throbbed with the heat of the morning and the memory of their battle over expenditures. She couldn't recall him possessing such lofty principles on that day.

"As I conclude," Henderson said with a flourish of the hand. "I ask each of you, not what architecture can do for you, but what you can do for it."

Deena groaned.

"And here I thought I was the only one unable to stomach Henderson's grandstanding," Daichi said as he stood next to Deena. He turned with a secret smile. "Perhaps we should let him lay hammer to nail, as he seems so inclined to do."

Deena giggled.

Deena spent her morning hobn.o.bbing with bigwigs. She was most excited not by that, but by the opportunity to meet Mahmoud, Hudson and Marshall, her dream team turned reality. The four of them, along with Daichi, took pictures and answered questions, and when Miami Design asked Deena if they could have a word with her, she nearly hemorrhaged on the spot.

When Deena finished shaking the hand of the stocky blonde who'd interviewed her, she found her way over to Daichi, centered in a cl.u.s.ter of fellow architects. He ignored the refreshments as he usually did at events and opted only for a bit of soda water.

"So, I tell this intern, listen, if you want to be 'imaginative' then head down to Brickell and see if Tanaka's accepting new recruits. He's got interns over there working million dollar projects," Michael Cook guffawed.

Cook, the former professor who saw fit to confront Daichi so many years ago during his M.I.T. appearance, was met with a roars of laughter as he brought a gla.s.s of ice water to his lips. Deena wasn't surprised that he didn't remember her as a former student; he could never be bothered with learning the names of undergraduates.

Daichi wasn't smiling. "Interestingly enough, I've found that genius discriminates not in terms of age or race. Perhaps if my peers were better able to grasp that concept, then our field might better reflect the populace."

The laughter died.

"Incidentally, Ms. Hammond's not an intern. She's a registered architect and the genius behind the innovative design you've spent all morning fawning over."

He gestured to the small-scale model on display. A stately stem, once completed, Skylife would be the narrowest, tallest, most graceful creation to dawn Miami's skyline to date. With a walkway like an undulating ribbon, the building curved in its ascent as if to mimic ocean waves. Its lean appearance gave residents a startling three-sided view of the water while its 125 floors served to shatter the skyline.

"She designed this?" Cook said incredulously, no doubt considering the engineering ingenuity such a slim structure demanded. "You're being far too generous."

Daichi stared at the man with impatience. "I'm not." He glanced at Deena. "Are you ill?"

Deena blinked in surprise. He'd only spoken to her once that morning and could think of no other time where he'd so much as looked her way.

"I'm-I'm feeling a little under the weather."

"Then why are you still here? Are the hors d' oeuvres so delightful?"

"No."

"Then leave."

"Yes, sir." Deena turned away, then paused. "Would you like me to meet you back at the office?"

"Is that where the ill go? To the office?"

"No."

"Then no, Deena." He turned back to Cook.

Still, she hesitated. In her four years at the firm, she'd never taken a sick day. Better still, her days of month long vacations weren't far enough in her rearview mirror for her to feel comfortable.

"So, Daichi," Cook said. "I hear you've been short listed for the Pritzker."

The Prizker Prize was the architectural equivalent of a n.o.bel.

Daichi rolled his eyes.

"I've no information indicating such and considering what I know about you, I suspect you know even less. Now, if you'll excuse me. I have business elsewhere."

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX.

Deena had no idea that something could be both really good and really bad at the same time. But she'd discovered just that when Daichi invited her to his California mansion for the holiday season. He wanted the opportunity to comb through their plans and ensure perfection for what was fast becoming a daunting project. His extended family would be in attendance because of the New Year, as it, and not Christmas, was the apex of the holiday season for the Tanakas.

It should've been cause for excitement. Meeting her boyfriend's grandmother, aunts, uncles and cousins. And it was, except for the fact that they couldn't know that Tak was in fact her boyfriend. Or that she even knew him.

Two weeks at Daichi's estate, under the same roof as Tak, forced to feign indifference. The thought made her sweat.

Daichi's sweeping estate was in Encinitas, a cliff-side retreat just north of San Diego. It boasted twelve bedrooms, three floors, five bathrooms, two dining rooms, a private stretch of ocean and a tennis court. Its views of the Pacific were breathtaking, made possible through generous floor-to-ceiling windows and sliding gla.s.s doors.

Daichi hired a driver to pick up Deena at the airport. He was a dapper fellow, with white gloves and the lot, and it was all Deena could do not to giggle as he took her luggage and helped her into the back of the town car.

When she arrived at the estate, she was met by Tak. Her face lit up when he answered the door. At this point, he'd been in Encinitas for four days, and therefore, away from her.

He squeezed her quickly before releasing her and glancing over his shoulder. He took her hand and led her inside.

"Where's your family?" she whispered.

He shot her a sneaky smile and brought a finger to his lips. They left the luggage in the foyer and made their way down the hall. Past the reading room, past the den, and past the dining room before he pushed her in a closet and closed the door behind them.

"Tak! Your father-"

"Quiet, Dee. I'm busy."

He smothered her words with a kiss. She pulled him closer, instantly emboldened by the notion of a tryst in the closet, enveloped in darkness.

He returned to her mouth, pulling away clothes in his haste.

"You should've come sooner," he said, mouth at her throat and a teasing hand on her breast.

Deena uttered something that even she couldn't understand.

"Uh huh," Tak mumbled distractedly. He s.n.a.t.c.hed her skirt upwards, fumbled and slipped into her with practiced ease.

Deena bit down on his shoulder and let loose a stifled moan. Somewhere in between, were thoughts of him and his father. Was he on his way? Pulling into the drive? Or already there?

Tak slowed as if reading her mind. She thumped him on the back.

"G.o.d, no, Tak. Don't stop, just-just hurry."

When Tak and Deena parted a half hour later, they veered in different directions, making it only a few steps before hearing Daichi's voice.

"Deena!"

With a hand on the stair's railing, she froze, sweat from his son coupling with a now fresh sheen of her own.

She turned to face him.

"I contemplated forming a search party for you. No one seemed to have seen you arrive."

Daichi folded his arms as he stood at the foot of the staircase. "Now how did you ever manage that?"

Tak stood back, near enough to intervene, yet seemingly struggling with the decision.

"I uh-wasn't feeling well. The flight. Air sickness," Deena said.

"And are you better now?"

"I think so."

"Good," with a clap of the hands Daichi turned to Tak. "Then I'd like you to meet my son, Tak.u.mi. Tak.u.mi, this is Deena Hammond, a colleague from the firm."

Tak watched Deena descend the staircase. Would she really stand there, moments after having him inside of her, after whimpering her love for him-after all that, could she really stomach pretending they were strangers?

She could.

As Deena extended a hand to him, nausea washed over Tak. He thought about ending the charade, blurting what they were, what they'd done, and would have, were he not certain she'd leave him looking the fool.

"Tak.u.mi," she said softly, the smile on her lips not bothering to reach her eyes.

She sensed it too, the insanity of it all, of two adults pretending to be nothing to each other.

"Deena," he said cooly.

Tak clasped her hand, fingers stroking the palm and brushing her fingertips as she withdrew from him. He met her gaze, challenging, daring her to do something about the intimacy of his touch. She did nothing.

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN.

Daichi grabbed Deena's luggage from the foyer and showed her to her bedroom. Once inside, he cleared his throat as if uncomfortable with the intimate quarters of his own guestroom. His gaze swept the confines in subdued appraisal before returning to Deena.

"And how do you find your accommodations, Ms. Hammond?"

Her first reaction to the room had been awe.

"It's beautiful, Daichi. Everything you make is just so beautiful." She thought of his son and blushed. "I mean-architecture, of course."