“Fine, huh?” Marisa said, noticing Julia’s expression as she studied the photo.
“Extremely,” Julia admitted. How in Heaven’s name could he possibly be even more gorgeous than he was eight years ago? “His wife?” she asked, her voice breaking on the word when she took in the woman at his side.
Marisa leaned in to glance at the photo. “Not yet, but I’m sure she’s hoping for it. According to that article they’re quite the item: coanchors in Detroit, adoring fans, and she clearly states that they’re in an exclusive relationship.”
Julia only nodded.
“I wonder if he’s told her about this L.A. thing?”
Julia’s expression sharpened and Marisa reacted with a sheepish grin. “Sorry, but it’s been all the talk. Word is they’re trying to woo him out here.”
“Is that right?” Julia inquired lightly, her eyes fixed once again on the clipping.
“Yes,” Marisa said, her eyes narrowing. “I’m sure you’ll be hearing about it soon. They want all their producers on their best behavior when and if he decides to visit the station.”
Julia didn’t tell her friend that this man was the reason she’d called her in L.A. at 3:00 a.m. eight years ago and begged for a place to stay until she got on her feet.
“Well listen, Marisa. I should start working. I’ll, uh, talk to you later,” she said, waving as she headed off.
Escaping to her office, Julia’s mind threatened to explode with all the Cortez thoughts she’d tried to suppress over the last eight years.
She’d never wanted to leave him, especially in the way she did. The way I just cut him off. She knew he’d been furious. She was too much of a coward to face him when he’d come to her parents’ house to look for her. She could hear the anger in his voice as he tried to speak calmly with them. It turned into an ugly scene, but Julia believed it would be best if they never saw one another again.
Now, however, he had another woman on his arm. It was killing her to see it, since that woman should have been her. It would have been her if she’d had the guts to stay and fight for him. To hell with the rest of the Wallaces! She should’ve stayed. She knew he loved her in spite of the lies his family and the rest of Detroit’s jealous staid black social elite rambled about her. He’d probably not trust her as far as he could throw her now. And love? That love was surely long dead. Or was it? She wondered, thinking of the photo of Cortez and Renee Scales.
She didn’t look like his type, she thought. Actually, she looked like a younger version of Cora Wallace. Julia shivered at the thought but recalled the saying that men usually married women like their mother.
“Oh, Corky, what’s happened to you?” Julia sighed, an amused half smile on her lips. It might be interesting to see how serious this thing was, she debated. Knowing that he was truly committed to someone who loved him the way he deserved to be might be the one and only thing to rid her of the infatuation she still harbored for him.
In the circular drive outside his mother’s house, Cortez slammed his hands to the hood of his Expedition and ordered himself to stay calm for what had to be the hundredth time that day. He’d tried with superhuman effort not to think of Julia Kelly. Ever. But hearing his mother speak her name was nearly his undoing, even after eight years. What really enraged him was the fact that his mother was right. The women over the last eight years had been a reaction to Julia, but not for the reasons Cora believed.
Julia had ravaged his thoughts after she left, to the point that Cortez could barely focus on a thing. His temper snapped at any and every thing. After a while, he accepted the fact that it was only a matter of time before he beat the living hell out of someone if they riled him up too much. Luckily, he had his job to fall back on. The job saved him, and he delved into it rigorously—making a well-known name for himself in the process. With that name and other irresistible attributes, women practically fell to his feet. He indulged, of course, believing that every moment spent in their arms was a moment he spent not being tortured by Julia. Sadly, every moment spent with another woman filled his thoughts of only Julia and the pleasure he’d found only with her.
Tiny chimes pierced the air and Cortez welcomed the interruption of his cell phone.
“Hi, I just wanted to remind you of the studio interview later this afternoon,” Sara said as soon as he picked up. “Makeup’s expecting you in an hour,” she added.
Cortez checked his watch. “I’m on my way,” he said, already settling into the driver’s side of his charcoal-gray SUV. “Anything else?”
“Yeah. A James Sealy from L.A. called. Do you know what that’s about? Because he was very secretive about what he wanted to discuss,” Sara recalled. “Anyway, he seems determined to talk to you and wants you to call him at your earliest convenience.”
Cortez made no comment. He’d spoken to James before and appreciated the man’s discretion when he spoke with Sara. “I’ll call him after this interview’s taped,” he told his assistant.
“Great!” Sara chirped. “See ya.”
Cortez ended the call and tossed his cell phone onto the passenger seat, his handsome face suddenly pensive as he thought. L.A. could be the perfect place to disappear for a week. The phone chimed again and he saw Renee’s name on the face plate.
Yes, he thought, L.A. would be the perfect place to disappear for a few weeks.
Chapter 3
Julia rolled her eyes as she set the receiver onto the cradle more firmly than necessary. How long? She wondered. How long could she pretend sweetness at these offers? She’d just received her third invite to the Haven Network’s annual mixer. The event, held by Outlook’s parent company, was actually a highly publicized soiree that boasted a who’s who guest list of television and film celebrities alike. Also in great attendance were the network execs and employees who made the corporation the lucrative business that it was.
Of course, those who’d attended one or more of the mixers knew what really went on there. Insiders had dubbed the event “The Haven Orgy,” since almost every guest who attended wound up losing their underwear at some point during the evening.
Julia always received at least four or five invites to the party before the word spread that she wasn’t going and there was no point in asking her. Party number one she’d attended as a faithful new employee. After party number two, she decided that that would be her last.
Besides, she now had her eyes set on a bigger, more gorgeous fish than any who attended the Haven gathering.
Relaxed on her patio, several feet away from the splendid inground pool, she thought about seeing Cortez again. What would his reaction be to her? What would hers be to him?
Unwillingly, her thoughts turned to Renee Scales. Julia couldn’t help but wonder again at how serious their relationship really was. A twinge of doubt settled in her stomach at the idea of interfering, but she cast it off quickly. The article didn’t say they were married or engaged, so there.
Besides, she wasn’t going to have him tied to her bed the moment he walked through her door. She’d just be her usual sweet, sexy self, and if he couldn’t resist…well then, that would just be that.
“Did you find your room all right, Mr. Wallace?”
Cortez had settled in the back of the gray limo, having told the driver not to bother holding the door for him. He’d just checked into a posh Beverly Hills hotel courtesy of Outlook TV. “Thanks, Gary, everything was fine,” he told the driver.
“Cool,” the young man said as he whisked the sleek car out into the late evening traffic. “Nice, huh? The hotel?” he inquired, once they were moving along steadily.
“Yeah, not bad. Not bad at all,” Cortez chuckled, smoothing the back of his hand across his whiskered cheek.
“That place really knows how to woo its up-and-coming celebrities,” Gary raved, referring to the station.
“I haven’t signed any papers yet, man,” Cortez assured him with a shrug. “I am curious, though,” he admitted.
Gary grinned.
“Well if you’re not, that’s bound to change after tonight.”
“Meaning?” Cortez asked, his deep brown eyes sparkling with humor.
“Well, you’re on your way to the producer’s house now, and these people don’t play around when they make an offer. Hell, I almost wet my pants when I found out how much they were going to pay me just to drive the car.”
Cortez’s deep laughter rumbled from the backseat.
“Once you see the producer’s place, you’ll be having visions of digs like that dancing in your head,” Gary predicted.
“So that’s where we’re headed now?” Cortez asked.
“Yes. You’ll be having dinner there tonight. Wonder if the producer’s assistant’ll be there?” Gary said, as though he were asking himself. “She’s somethin’ else,” he told Cortez, having caught his eye through the rearview mirror.
“A beauty, huh?”
“Hell, yes,” Gary confirmed heartily.
From there, the conversation for the remainder of the trip focused on Gary’s love life, or lack thereof. He was clearly smitten by this assistant and praised her beauty almost reverently before vowing that he was going to ask her out soon.
“So why haven’t you already?” Cortez inquired, watching as Gary shrugged rather stiffly.
“She’s just so damn gorgeous and successful, and I’m a white limo driver. I don’t want my heart broken, know what I mean?”
Cortez’s gaze narrowed in understanding and he sighed while leaning back to survey the palm tree-lined streets. “Yeah, Gary, I know exactly what you mean.”
The producer’s home was set in one of L.A.’s many exclusive neighborhoods. Cortez was stunned by the size and majesty of the white brick mansion that appeared to have been constructed right in the middle of an exotic jungle. Gargantuan palm trees and other leafy brush cascaded elegantly around the home. There was even a man-made pond several feet before the entrance. Colorful fish darted amidst its beautifully clear water. The place could have easily made the cover of Architectural Digest and Better Homes and Gardens simultaneously. The exquisite creation truly put his overpriced Beverly Hills hotel to shame.
Tugging on the cuff of his midnight blue shirt, Cortez thought that if Outlook paid its on-air talent as well as its executives, he might not be so quick to dismiss their offer once it was on the table. He rang the bell and waited, surveying the creative landscaping. The door opened and the strength left his legs before he even turned to see who had spoken.
“Good evening, Corky.”
Cortez felt his eyebrows draw close and knew the furrow between them was etched deep. Leaning against the open door right before him and looking dangerously sexy was Julia Kelly. Cortez was unable to speak. Soon he, too, was leaning against the doorjamb as he searched the dark, lovely face before his very eyes as though it were some sort of apparition.
“Juli,” he said finally, reaching out to curve his hand gently around her cheek before venturing upward to toy with her shortened hair. Finally, his hand rested around the base of her neck. His fingers massaged the silky column for proof that she was real.
The touch stirred up much emotion in Julia. Her lengthy eyelashes fluttered rapidly as a tiny moan escaped her mouth. Cortez’s hypnotic chocolate stare focused on the lush curve of her lips and he jerked away as if she’d burned him.
“What the hell?” he breathed, shaking his head in wonder and irritation. “What the hell are you doing here?” he managed.
“You’re having dinner with me, Corky.”
Her matter-of-fact manner and the subtle heave of the bosom she knew he was struggling not to acknowledge roused his temper. “No, I’m having dinner with the producer,” he corrected, rising to his full height.
Julia nodded once, seeing the captivation leave his eyes to be replaced by something stormier. “You’re having lunch with my bosses tomorrow. Tonight, you’re having dinner with me,” she explained, folding her arms across the figure-flattering asymmetrical frock she wore.
Cortez didn’t want to be affected by her, yet he wasn’t surprised by his immediate response to her just the same. “I don’t have time for games, Julia, and if I did I wouldn’t fly halfway across the country to play them.”
Julia threw her head back and laughed. She missed Cortez’s murderous expression become a momentary helplessness as his eyes raked over the very-missed sight of her.
“Oh, Corky, I’m not playing games with you,” she assured him at last, her ebony stare focused and alluring. “I prefer more satisfying ways to have fun,” she whispered, her nostrils flaring when he leaned close and the incredible scent of his cologne drifted in the air.
“Good night,” he told her, ignoring the obvious desire in her eyes as she fixed him with a lingering look. “Tell the producer I’m sorry I misunderstood.”
Julia blinked in sudden comprehension. “Cortez? Cortez, just who do you think I am?”
Realization dawned like sunlight on a hangover. He winced painfully as he realized his mistake. “You’re the Outlook producer I’m having dinner with?”
“Bingo,” Julia announced, before shaking her head. “Who’d you think I was? Besides, didn’t the name Kelly ring a bell?”
Smoothing a large hand across his sleek, close-cut hair, Cortez grinned. “From the way the driver went on about what a dime the producer’s assistant was…” he trailed off, taking in the chic short hairstyle that accentuated her incredible face.
Julia closed her eyes and nodded. “You must’ve had Gary. He’s infatuated with my assistant, Lexi. We’re all wondering when he’ll get around to asking her out,” she shared as the granite quality returned to Cortez’s face. She offered a devilish smile in return. “Listen, I hope you’re not as chauvinistic as my bosses, because clearly you expected to meet a man.”
Cortez shrugged. “How chauvinistic can they be if you’ve risen to the rank of producer?”
Sighing in an overly dramatic fashion, Julia massaged her neck and grimaced. “That’s a long and involved story that I really don’t want to have on my front porch. Won’t you please come inside?”
Cortez’s warm gaze narrowed as it once again took in Julia’s face and body. She had to be the only woman he’d ever met who could make a simple phrase sound like the most erotic sexual innuendo. Without another word, he stepped forward to accept her invite.
“Would you like a tour?” Julia called, noticing Cortez looking around the interior of the home, which was designed just as exotically as its exterior.
“What am I doing here?” Cortez asked without turning to face her.
Julia’s expression darkened. “The big boys want you to host their show,” she drawled, strolling barefoot out of the entrance hall and down the glass steps leading to the living room. “Of course, the original idea was mine, and of course they twisted it into their own and figure only a man can make it work.”
“And clearly you’re not pleased by their logic,” Cortez noted, stopping just inside the sunroom to watch her closely. “So why would they ask you to be part of my welcoming committee?”
Julia couldn’t hide her uneasiness and put more distance between them. “They know I used to work with you at WPDM and figured we were old friends. They thought it might make the trip easier, for lack of a better word.”
“I’m surprised you agreed,” Cortez said, his deep voice soft and probing. “Considering the way we left things, for lack of a better word.”
That was absolutely the last thing Julia wanted to discuss. Clearing her throat, she made a pretense of rearranging the throw pillows on the cream sofa cushions. “They agreed to make me coproducer on the show. I’ll also be given the go-ahead to test my show once this one fails. Would you like a drink?” she offered, breezing deeper into the living room.
“Why would they predict the failure of a show they seem so eager for?” Cortez asked, reaching out to take the glass of Hennessey that Julia had provided. “They aren’t predicting its failure. I am. I thought your agent would�
�ve mentioned that.”
Cortez nodded, recalling the conversation with his agent, Perry Boykins. Several times, he’d gotten the idea that Perry was keeping something hidden. Now he realized the man probably didn’t want Julia’s involvement to make him pass on the deal of a lifetime.
Cortez enjoyed his drink while Julia relayed her show’s premise. She was quite firm in her opinion as to why having a woman take on the challenges of the show would be far more interesting.
It was clear that she had a definite mastery of her job, but he was having trouble staying focused on the topic. Cortez was utterly taken by the woman who sauntered before him, speaking facts and figures while everything else about her shrieked sensuality and loveliness. She’d always been confident and alluring, but the assuredness that came with maturity and experience added something even more provocative to her persona. Cortez knew he was in trouble.
“So when’s dinner?” he asked, cutting Julia off mid-sentence. Unfortunately, it was that or get out of that house as fast as his legs would carry him.
Julia smiled, before waving her hand lazily. “Just this way,” she instructed, and led the way to the adjoining patio. It was set like a scene for seduction. Candlelight flickered invitingly, casting its savage beauty against the leafy palms, fichus and ferns that adorned the area. Cortez settled into the chair Julia held out for him.
“Be right back,” she spoke close to the vicinity of his ear before leaving the room.
Cortez reminded himself to play it cool. She had to know what she was doing to him as she casually brought the meal to the table they were sharing. Propping his cheek to his fist, his smoky brown eyes followed her every move. Watching her walk back and forth, on her small bare feet, his thoughts drifted back to them together—together in heated, explicit detail. Those details flashed sharp and vivid due in no small part to the fact that the candlelight made the olive green material of her dress appear transparent.
As Good as the First Time Page 3
