Ivan was proud to tell him, “No.” He said, “I think I would want to be married before that happens. That way it won’t be a mistake, you know?”

“That’s the right idea. You always wanna find the right woman first. But how old is, ah, Jacari? She’s pretty young, right? You’ll have to wait her out a few years before she’s ready.”

The twelfth floor arrived for Ivan before he could respond. Vance’s room was on the fourteenth floor.

Ivan climbed out and said, “Naw, I’m not looking at her like that. She’s cute, but I’ve already been around the block a few times. I think I may need a harder edge on a woman.”

Vance laughed. He said, “I hear ya. You need one who can stand her ground. But be careful what you wish for,” he added as the elevator doors closed.

Ivan let himself into his room with his key card and found his luggage already up in his room.

“Damn, they move fast,” he commented.

The room was all done up in deep, rich colors with dark wooden furniture and a high king-sized bed. But it was nothing spectacular.

Ivan quickly changed his clothes into his casual dress of dark blue denim jeans, a button-up shirt, and a sports jacket. He sprayed soft-scented Joop cologne, and that was that. But by the time he returned to the lobby to meet back up with Jacari, she was surrounded by admirers.

“Oh, you’re so gorgeous. Are you having an event here this weekend?” an older white woman asked her.

Jacari was gracious with a smile. “No, I’m just waiting here for a friend.”

Vance’s two assistants continued to stand by her like a security team. They didn’t even talk much. That only attracted more people to stare at her.

Ivan walked over to her and was ready to go. “Thanks, guys.”

“No problem, Ivan. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

Ivan asked Jacari, “All right, where to? I’ve never been to New York before.”

She politely stepped away from the crowd of gawkers. She told Ivan, “Times Square is where all of the tourists go. So let’s start there.”

She led him out the front door of the hotel to hail a taxi at the curb. A Yellow Cab stopped for her immediately.

“Damn,” Ivan commented. “You get instant cabs here, hunh?”

“Yeah, you get used to it,” she responded with a chuckle. When they climbed inside the back of the tight cab, she told their East Indian driver, “Times Square,” and he took off driving.

Ivan asked, “So, there’s no private driver for an international model?”

Jacari frowned. “If you think you need one. But I don’t think I need all of that. I can pretty much take care of myself. I’ve been here for a year now.”

“Thanks to us,” Ivan teased her.