“Andre! Andre! Please wait!” A demented-looking Colleen called after him in a shrill she was certain could wake a dead man from the grave, but it all fell on deaf ears. Andre was past hearing. Andre was past listening. Andre well was beyond seeing, even. Not flinching for even a second, he hollered towards the elevator, his breathing rapid, his chest bouncing heavily, and jaws flexing. He couldn’t even bring himself to see anything other than what he had seen five minutes ago: the image of Colleen and Tobias kissing. Angry was an understatement to describe how he was feeling. Pushing down the button for the twenty-fourth floor, the elevator doors closed swiftly right in the face of Colleen who was ready to jump in there with him and explain how this was all just a huge misunderstanding.Determined to set things straight, she hurried to the next elevator and pushed down the button for the twenty-fourth floor. Guess granting her access to the floor came in handy way too soon, in th
ANDRE watched as Tobias walked into the dining hall and headed for where Colleen sat with her friends, Liz and Jessalyn, chatting and laughing so happily. His eyes followed every move of Tobias, from when he walked into the hall, scanned the place for a certain redhead, and when he spotted her, strutted in her direction. He watched him speak to her in what he was sure was whispers, and after barely any convincing—because why would he need to convince somebody he had locked lips with yesterday—, she stood up and followed him to wherever the hell they had talked about.Yup! Andre was definitely paranoid. He tightened his grip on the tableware in his hand, so hard it began to hurt. But he didn’t feel any pain down there. The affliction he was feeling right now wasn’t from the knife in his hand, it was from watching Colleen follow Tobias out of the dining hall. “Easy there,” Valentina all but purred from behind him, in that velvet-textured voice of hers that made even the ladies ballyh
“Is she dead?” With her heart hammering against her chest, she lowered her head onto the body of the woman who lay lifeless on the Persian silk rug.Colleen Caddell listened keenly for a sound, even the faintest of it. She listened for something, anything. But there was nothing. Horror struck her face as, slowly, her gaze averted towards Liz Parker who was standing right above her. “I can’t hear her heartbeat,” she said, almost in a whisper. “Are you sure? Step aside, let me listen.” As Colleen backed away from the body, a fragment of her hair got stuck in the flower sterling silver brooch pinned on the blouse of the woman. She had to tug at her hair to break free and when it finally came undone, she stepped aside for Liz to check her pulse and listen for a heartbeat. Just as Colleen had said, there was nothing.“She is dead,” Liz confirmed rather quietly. But that did absolutely nothing to pacify her friend, who was immediately thrown into a frenzy as she stalked around the room
MILLIONAIRE OWNER OF LOURDES AEROSPACE MURDERED IN HER HOME. . .CAMILLA LOURDES OF MILLION-DOLLAR AEROSPACE COMPANY FOUND DEAD. . .THE OWNER OF DETROIT’S BIGGEST AEROSPACE COMPANY WAS SHOT DEAD IN HER HOME. . . Colleen read every article that was written with those headlines or anything remotely close to it. In the last seven days, she stalked the internet like an addict searching for any leads involving the case; looking to see if the police confirmed someone was in the room with Camilla Lourdes when she kicked the bucket. A memorial service has already been held for her after her body was cremated by her family as she wished. So, Camilla was gone physically, but she still haunted Colleen’s dreams. Liz snatched the phone away from her hand. “Goodness, Colleen! You’ll go mad if you continue like this.”Then, the taxi driver pulled over in front of the twelve-foot silver steel gate of the resort, effectively shutting what was going to be another round of Colleen nagging abo
The briefing was just as the name: brief. It lasted no more than twenty-five minutes and in all of that time, Colleen could barely concentrate on what was being said. Three things were playing catch in her head. Firstly, Selena. She had told Liz about Selena when she got into the main hall and they made sure to steer clear of her. Not that it was necessary anyway, Selena was rather preoccupied with flirting with a blue-eyed man sitting opposite her. At least that was behind them. For now. Secondly, the one thing that worried her the entire week: Camilla Lourdes's death. And this brings us to the third participant of the catch game in her head, Camilla’s son. This one had dark hazel eyes that pierced into hers when he gaped at her with a glint of amusement while they were in the men’s room. She had muttered an apology before she ran out of there. Although she was sure he didn’t hear it because her voice was in an undertone. She was never one to go fill her head with images of a be
Andre Jacques Lourdes. . .He will be in charge of the Detroit Entrepreneurship Summer Camp from now on. Something he never imagined he would be doing in his life. But Camilla Lourdes loved helping people—in her way. Especially ‘displaced’ young adults who she knew had so much to offer to society. And this was exactly what led her to found the Lourdes Foundation six years ago. This was only the second edition of DESC and it was unfortunate she couldn’t be there to see how much success came out of it. To this cause, Andre was dedicated. If, for once in his life, outside the business world, he hoped to do right by his mother. How helpful and livening was it that he came across Colleen Caddell? A woman who, stunningly, seemed to rivet him?As the soft melody of Lana Del Rey’s ‘Dark Paradise’ wafted through the massive space of his living room, Andre waltzed into the kitchen, flipping open his cabinet to take out the two-piece cocktail shaker set to do what he knew how to do best,—asides
"Jeepers! Now that, Liz Parker, is a view. Quickly, hand me your phone. I need to capture this essence.” Colleen urged rather impatiently and Liz, grumbling beneath her breath, pulled her phone from her back pocket and handed it to her. She watched as Colleen first took a snapshot of the high ceiling that shielded the sun but left an opening small enough to let in some of that summer sunlight into the lobby which reflected the water rocks mural on the ground floor. Holy Moly! It was luminously magnificent. Then, she took a couple of selfies, posing weirdly for each one. This was her being a little optimistic and open-minded. She begged Liz to get in a photo with her, who, begrudgingly, did so. When she was done, she handed the phone back with only one request, “please do not delete any of those heavenly pictures, they’re called memories. And pictures provide the best ones.” Considering Liz was known to clear her gallery now and then for reasons best known to her, it was im
"No way this dress cost over a thousand, seven hundred dollars!” Harbor Bridge Resort and Spa was the second largest in Detroit and, as such, had to live up to that name in terms of maintenance, building, and rebuilding. That is to say Andre Lourdes was spending a hell of a lot of cash on running the place. But let’s not even go to the figures he is receiving in return. The place could cater to at least five families over twelve months. And make no mistake, I am not talking about a couple or some widowed woman with two children. I am talking about a family of four and more. Part of the numerous subtleties the resort housed was a Chanel Store. In the same store, Andre had made a prepaid deposit of what she presumed to be a whopping amount of dollars. Because why then would he say, “For the Meet and Greet event this evening, y’all need to look your best! So, on that note, you’re more than welcome to walk into the Chanel Store in the building and pick whatever catches your fancy