Diva Diaries by Janine A. Morris Page A

souvenirs, were his daughter’s memorabilia. The kitchen was also well kept, excluding some dishes in the sink.
    The kitchen seemed to be his temporary destination—once inside, he pulled a bottle of champagne from the minibar that he had well stocked and took two flute glasses from the cabinet. As he set the glasses down and opened the champagne, no words were exchanged. Chrasey’s discomfort must have been obvious, because he asked, “Are you OK?”
    â€œI’m fine,” she replied.
    â€œListen, Chrasey, I understand if you aren’t. If you want to stay and just sit and talk, I promise you we can do just that, and if you want to go, I will take you home right now. I am perfectly fine with whatever you want to do.”
    It was clear all over Chrasey’s face how comforting she found Trevor’s words.
    â€œThank you, Trevor, but I’m fine ... this is a little fast for me, and I’m not one hundred percent cool, but I can hang for a bit. Besides, I’m not rushing home to someone.”
    He handed Chrasey her glass of champagne. “Well, there is no pressure and no expectations on my part. As much as I would love to make sweet love to you tonight, we can take this whole thing as slow as possible.”
    Chrasey just sipped on her Moët.
    Trevor walked out of the kitchen and toward upstairs, with Chrasey behind him, to continue the rest of the house tour. There were two guest bedrooms furnished and decorated. The bathroom was a typical man’s bathroom with nothing in it but a shaver and some toiletries. That was the one room with no scheme or interior design. Along the tour, Chrasey made comments and gave compliments on his well-kept house. She was also sure to tell him, “You forgot about the bathroom.”
    â€œThat’s the guest bathroom—my bathroom is a little better-looking.”
    â€œWell, why you have your stuff all over the guest bathroom?”
    â€œSo that I don’t mess up mine as fast,” he replied.
    They both laughed as they walked down the hall to the room that he had strategically waited for last.
    â€œHere it is, my master bedroom.”
    Chrasey looked around the room and was pleased to see that it was also just as clean and maintained. He had a king-size bed, and two nightstands, one on each side. A 42-inch television, with another game system sitting below it along with a DVD player. On the wall was a huge portrait of him and his daughter.
    â€œShe is a beautiful little girl,” Chrasey said.
    â€œThanks—that’s Daddy’s angel face.”
    â€œIt really sucks you and her mom couldn’t work it out for her sake.”
    â€œYeah, I guess ... but we were young and we just outgrew one another. Trust me, we tried—sometimes it’s just nothing you can do.”
    Chrasey didn’t comment, because she knew exactly what he meant. She felt that way from time to time with Keith—they also had outgrown each other. The difference was she was married with two kids, and it wasn’t that easy to just walk away.
    He picked up the remote and started to flick through channels. Chrasey sat on the foot of the bed looking at the television as well, both pretending that they were eagerly anticipating a good program to watch. It was damn near 3:00 in the morning, and they both knew what they were there in his bedroom for. Still, they wanted the motions to get everybody a little more comfortable.
    He eventually landed on HBO, where Four Brothers was playing.
    â€œYou saw this before?” he asked.
    â€œNo.”
    â€œGood, me neither, and it just started like ten minutes ago ...”
    Trevor kicked off his shoes and pushed back to the middle of his king-size bed. He patted the area beside him, telling Chrasey to do the same, and she did. She lay next to him with her head resting on his chest, propped up to see the television. About five minutes into the show, way before either of them could have