"You look beautiful." DeMarcus stated, sidling next to Nia at the alabaster cocktail table.

Nia's deep brown eyes stayed rooted on the four string quartet in the center of the room that could be the lounging space in Mt. Olympus with the marble floors, Ionic columns, and black-figure pottery positioned throughout like heirlooms too priceless to move.

"I don't need to be informed of knowledge known to me already. I've been beautiful since 1994. This Oscar De La Renta is just added flare." Nia orated soberly as she glided her white painted nail along the stem of the champagne glass.

DeMarcus took in the exquisiteness of the metallic gold lace mini dress that complimented her complexion and diamond stud earrings glinting under the chandelier's brilliance and the moon's glow streaming through the windows. He knew she was accurate; she drew the attention of many of the men in the room and some women. She was the embodiment of beautification but he already had a trophy. He just wanted novelty.

She finally faced him, taking in his placid features. "Why are you talking to me?"

He blinked, "She's not here. It's fine."

"Good for her." Nia chuckled mirthlessly refocusing on the musicians playing an ethereal selection. "But that doesn't answer my question but I guess since you don't know why I'm peeved, I already have it."

DeMarcus started off in the distance jogging his mind of yesterday's events that would upset her and then a glimmer of a reason came to him. "Is this about the call? I was busy. Nothing personal."

"I don't care how busy you were" She snided. "I don't tolerate rudeness."

"I'm sorry." He fought the urge to reach out to her knowing several of his higher ups were floating in the room.

"What were you busy with..." She gestured to the flesh tone bandaid on his finger. "...a splinter?"

"I cut it." He flexed the appendage that still stung then pushed his hand in the pocket of his burgundy tuxedo pants. "It was nothing personal. Can we go somewhere more private and I can explain?"

"Nia!" A man called her name before he could get her answer. He didn't like the way her lips curved upward and the instant shift of her demeanor from vexed to elated.

"When did you get back?" She asked as the man embraced her then kissed the top of her head.

"Don't be mad..." He started as he released her from the hug. "But I've been back for a couple of days. I just needed some time to unwind, recover from jetlag, you know."

She side-eyed him, "Does Victor know you're here?" She canvased the room looking for the man she spoke of.

"Saw him. I told him I was working on the heir part. Finally found a woman I want to get pregnant." The man combed his hand through his curly tresses roughly and he glanced over at DeMarcus. "Little sister, where's your manners? Who's your date?"

"He's not my date." Nia corrected then said. "This is DeMarcus Morrison. He's a lawyer at the firm." She gestured to the man at her side. "DeMarcus, this is Apollo, my stepbrother."

"Nice to meet you." Apollo extended his hand and DeMarcus shook it. "Are you enjoying the gala? Whitney always goes all out. I don't think she understands that the gala is to garner donations for the foundation and not exceed the limit of the expense account."

"Don't talk about my mother or I'll speak ill of Victor."

Apollo shrugged. "Go right ahead." He pulled out his phone for his black tuxedo coat and smirked.

"Is it your future baby mama?" She asked, trying to peek at his phone.

"Yes." Apollo nudged her back while tapping on his phone. "I fulfilled my duty. I'm leaving." He gave her a quick side hug then said. "We should have lunch tomorrow."

"I'll find a place." She offered before her left, weaving through the clusters of people toward the exit.

Silence fell between them again as chatter buzzed accompanied by classical music.

DeMarcus plucked a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter, took a sip then said, "I didn't know your dad was Victor Galanis."

She smiled coyly, "You didn't think you were getting that donation on merit." His face slack and her eyes shone. "Wow! You really did." She stroked his arm. "Next time when I call, don't rush me off the fucking phone. Have some class." She kissed his cheek then left him at the table alone.

He watched her add to the space between them then chugged the remainder of the champagne and needed another. This time yesterday he thought all his plans were working out but now his shoulders were heavy with uncertainty.