Black Butterfly, Book 3 of the Black Burlesque Series_an Alpha male, BWWM romance by Tiffany Patterson

Author:Tiffany Patterson [Patterson, Tiffany]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jessica Watkins Presents
Published: 2015-12-07T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Iris Collins was in a good mood as she stood under the handcrafted plaster relief ceilings and crystal chandeliers of the Imperial Ballroom at the Biltmore. Tonight, she was hosting one of her most cherished charities. Dressed in a navy blue, Badgley Mischka lace cape sheath cocktail dress, and a pair of silver strappy heels, she felt proud of the work she’d done with MADD over the past five years. Annually, this gala would bring hundreds of thousands of dollars to the organization, and help spread the word about the dangers of drunk driving, as well as provide assistance to those who’d had their lives altered by it. She knew all too well how drunk driving could take a life and ruin a family.

Iris watched as many of the movers and shakers in the sports, music and business world in Atlanta mingled and entered the ballroom. Checking her watch, she noted the time. It was just after eight-thirty, and she’d just received word from her personal assistant that Nikola and Devyn had just arrived. She smiled at that bit of news, but she was really waiting for her youngest son to arrive. She was expecting fireworks to go off tonight with her stubborn, youngest child.

“Iris, don’t you look fancy tonight?” Iris heard the raspy voice of her dear friend, Diane, from behind her. To most, Diane was known as Mistress Coco, especially around her club, the Black Kitty, but Diane and Iris went back decades, long before there ever was a Black Kitty. Iris’ pink colored lips turned up into an even more brilliant smile.

“Diane, it’s about time you showed up. Did you get lost?” Iris teased as she swiped two glasses of champagne from the passing waiter, handing one to Diane. Diane was dressed in a black, form-fitting Carmen Marc Valvo cocktail dress with sleeve lace trim, which stopped a few inches below the knee. Her short, natural silver hair was styled in a tapered cut.

“I sure didn’t. I got um….distracted.” Diane answered slyly, glancing over at her date who stood at the other side of the room.

Iris peeked around Diane’s shoulder and admired the six-foot-four, broad shouldered, caramel complected man who’d drawn the attention of her friend. He appeared to be in his mid-forties, which was just Diane’s speed. She liked her men young and virile, as she would say.

“I see,” Iris eyed her friend, “luckily, you haven’t missed anything. Oops, wait, here comes Stacey now. Isn’t she lovely?” Iris turned her attention towards the entranceway where Stacey stood.

“Of course, she is. She’s one of my girls,” Diane answered arrogantly. Diane was very protective over her dancers and would tell anyone who would listen that her club had the best dancers this side of the Mississippi.

“I thought you said she was bringing a date. Why is she alone?” Diane asked, her face a mask of confusion.

“She was supposed to come with a teacher from Mercedes’ school, but he couldn’t make it. No matter, there are plenty of eligible men here who would walk through fire to get next to her, which is perfect.

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