CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“Osana?” Wanda Spears darted from the couch when Osana returned to her office at Spears Corp. “What’s gotten into you?”
“Momma.” Osana groaned, twisting to her desk. “What are you doing here this late?”
Wanda’s hazel eyes got big. “We need to talk.”
Osana sat at her desk. “If this isn’t important can we talk about this tomorrow?”
“I got a call from the wedding coordinator.” Wanda rubbed the sides of her lavender, Gucci pants suit, rocking it better than a woman decades younger than her age of fifty-nine. “She told me you canceled the wedding?”
“Yep.” Osana popped a butterscotch candy into her mouth.
“Have you lost your mind?” She pointed her index finger, waving her long, stiletto nail. “How could you cancel your wedding? Why would you?”
“Why do people cancel the
