Unforgettable (Arabesque)

by Byrd, Adrianne

  “Diana, please don’t make me beg.”

  She pressed for the elevator, smiled at the other associates crowded around, and then turned to face him. “You are begging. Where is his personal assistant, Wayne?”

  “He’s in New York with Marcel. Please do this—for me.” He placed his hands together in prayer. “I’ll owe you one—big-time.”

  “Charlie?”

  “New York.”

  His pleading gaze rattled her resolve and she couldn’t believe that she was actually contemplating doing this for him.

  Sensing a victory, he looped an arm around her shoulder and drew her away from the elevator and from curious eyes. “All you have to do is put some food in her dish and let her outside for a few minutes.”

  “And pick up after her.”

  “Well, the lawn guy can take care of that later. I don’t want to put you out too much.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  He reached into his pants pocket and withdrew a small set of keys. “So, you’ll do it?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  Solomon uncharacteristically planted a kiss on her cheek. “Marcel’s right. You’re the best.”

  Diana blinked. “He said that?”

  He handed her a silver key and jotted down the house security code. “All the time.”

  Dealing with new artists had a way of testing Marcel’s patience. It amazed him how this Generation Y constantly wanted something for nothing. He usually didn’t supervise video shoots or track recordings, but this new group with their excessive partying and destructive behavior were forcing him to reevaluate keeping them on the label.

  They were a talented group, but business was business. Since Nora was the one who discovered the group, she tagged along.

  During Marcel’s downtime, his mind kept wandering to Diana and the weird silent treatment she gave him. He didn’t usually have such a hard time figuring women out, but Diana puzzled him.

  What drove her so hard and why was she pushing him away when all he wanted to do was help?

  “You’re zoning out on me again.”

  Nora’s aggravated voice sliced through his thoughts and pulled him back to the present. Inches from the video director, Marcel sat in his own customized chair with his name scrolled across the back and wondered what the hell Nora was complaining about now. “Is there any way we can talk about your expense reports when we’re back at the office?” he asked.

  She looked put out, but managed to give him a strained smile. “Didn’t you get a chance to go over the numbers I left with Diana a couple of weeks ago?”

  “Not yet, but Diana mentioned you had a few questionable requests on it.”

  “Does that mean I have to get her approval or yours?”

  At her sarcastic tone, his gaze jerked up to hers. “I’m not in the mood for this, Nora. Your band here is costing me money. Money I’m not at all sure we’re going to be able to recoup.”

  She sighed. “I know they’re rough around the edges, but they’re rappers. They’re from the streets.”

  “What are you talking about? Two of them went to Ivy League schools. There’s nothing hard core about that.”

  “Then they’re trying to create an image in order to be taken seriously in this genre.”

  He tossed up his hands. “Are you going to have an excuse for everything?”

  Another strained smile. “That depends on whether you’re ever going to cut me some slack.”

  He frowned as he stared at her. “Why are you making this personal? This is business. Your band is out of control. We’ve spent two weeks on a video that was slated for two days. I have a problem with that—a serious problem. The last thing I want to hear is you asking me to spend even more money on them.”

  “They’re stars. You’ve heard their music,” she defended.

  “Talent doesn’t impress me as much as bankability. You should know that.”

  Nora conceded his point, but she wasn’t too happy over the whole situation. The Delinquents were her first band signed to the label and she desperately wanted to make them a hit. Their success meant her success and would prove once and for all that she belonged at T&B Entertainment.

  However, working beside one of the hottest men in the business was proving to be quite a distraction. Every woman at the company, whether she admitted it or not, wanted to be the one to tame Casanova Brown. Nora was no exception.

  So far she wasn’t making any headway, but they were going to be in New York for at least another day. She’d managed to snag him for a “business” dinner, and she had every intention of having Marcel for dessert, as well.

  Chapter 10

  Parked outside her boss’s sprawling estate, Diana took a few minutes to question her sanity. This wasn’t the first time she’d been to Marcel’s home. Usually when she had to make a pit stop here, someone was here to control the dog.

  Why in the world did she agree to do this when she was terrified of dogs? Then again, Solomon Bassett could sell a blind man a set of Braille-less encyclopedias.

  “Just go in there and get it over with,” she coached herself, but made no move for the door. Closing her eyes, she exhaled a long breath. At this rate, both she and the dog would die of starvation.

  “Brandy is just a baby,” she said, quoting Solomon. Maybe if she said the lie enough times she’d start to believe it. After ten minutes, she ditched that idea, too.

  She started up the car. Someone else would have to do this. There was just no way she could conquer this fear. Retrieving her cell phone, she dialed Marcel’s cell from memory.

  Marcel answered on the first ring.

  “You’re going have to get someone else to feed your dog. I can’t do it,” she said with more anger than she intended.

  “Diana?”

  “Yes, it’s me.” She swallowed.

  “What do you mean you can’t feed Brandy? Where is Juanita?”

  “Family emergency. Solomon asked me to feed Brandy, but I’m terrified of dogs,” she rambled on.

  Marcel sighed. “Okay, calm down. Let me think.”

  Diana did as he instructed, while guilt trickled down her spine. What did she expect him to do when he was in New York?

  On the other side of the line, she heard megaphones and music playing. He was still working. “Look, I know this is short notice, but I can’t get the image of being mauled to death out of my head.”

  “By Brandy?” He laughed. “I promise you, she wouldn’t hurt a fly. You have to believe me on that.”

  “I’m sorry,” she repeated, starting the car. “But I can’t do it.”

  Marcel’s frustration seeped through the line. “We can’t let her starve.”

  “I’m not suggesting that. It’s just…well, I had a bad experience with a dog once.”

  “You were bitten?” His voice filled with instant concern.

  His concern was probably manufactured to calm her down—and it was working. “When I was a teenager, my grandmother had a neighbor with a rotweiler.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Well, his name was Killer, of all things. And he was constantly barking and growling at everyone that walked past. I felt safe as long as he was behind the fence.”

  “Don’t tell me. He escaped?” Marcel guessed.

  “Dug a hole and crawled out. I swear he must have chased me ten blocks.”

  “Did he bite you?”

  “Bite me? He couldn’t catch me,” she deadpanned. “When the dust cleared my grandmother insisted I join the track team in high school.”

  Marcel laughed. “Okay, then you can do this. If you want, I can even stay on the phone with you while you go into the house.”

  “What are you supposed to do over the phone?”

  “I don’t know.” He sighed. “Give support?”

  She shook her head. “Your dog needs to eat and I’m being silly.”

  “Well, I’d appreciate it if you could feed her. First thing in the morning I can see if I can find som
eone else to take care of her. Who knows, Juanita might be finished dealing with her emergency.”

  She agreed, but her heart was already beginning to pound hard. “Are you sure she’s not going to attack me?”

  “Trust me,” he said. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”

  Believing him, she drew a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll go in there.” What the hell am I saying?

  “Do you need me to stay on the phone with you?”

  “Nah, I think I can handle it.” Someone shut me up.

  After a long pause he asked, “Are you sure?”

  Another lengthy silence stretched between them before she shut off the engine.

  “Diana?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll call you back if there’s a problem.” She quickly ended the call before she wound up promising to adopt the damn dog.

  A few minutes later, she stood outside Marcel’s front door, rubbing her sweaty palms against her slacks. “He promised she wouldn’t hurt you. He wouldn’t lie.” Though a part of her still believed prayers fell on deaf ears, she prayed anyway.

  She extracted the house key and the security code from her purse. “Just be calm, cool and collected,” she coached herself. “Dogs can sense fear.”

  She slipped the key into the lock, but it took her another moment to try and enter the premises. Determination instead of courage came to her rescue and she finally pushed open the door.

  Once inside, she quickly found the alarm system’s keypad where she nervously entered the pass code. So far so good. Diana breathed in a little easier, but when she turned away from the wall, her heart plummeted to her toes.

  Brandy’s coal-black eyes glittered as she stared at the intruder.

  Diana tried not to stare pointedly into the dog’s almond-shaped eyes. She read somewhere that aggressive dogs found that threatening. Slowly, her gaze slid down Brandy’s slick, solid black coat, and then the rust markings on her head, chest and legs.

  A baby, my ass.

  Brandy cocked her head as if she was confused by Diana’s presence.

  Diana swallowed, but a lump of fear remained lodged in her throat. “H-hello there.” She forced a smile, but felt silly when the dog just continued to stare.

  “Okay, I’m going to, uh, get you some food and let you run around outside for a little bit. Would you like that?”

  Woof!

  Diana jumped and nearly started crying. Stay calm. “I can’t stay calm.” Yes, you can. Arguing with herself was definitely a sign that she was indeed losing her marbles.

  Brandy cocked her head in the other direction and then sat back on her haunches.

  This had to be a good sign, Diana decided and relaxed long enough for her lungs to start working again. Familiar with the house’s layout, she realized she had to work her way around the dog in order to make it to the kitchen or even to the back door.

  When her cell phone rang from inside her purse, she jumped and Brandy barked again. Diana’s hand quickly covered her heart as if the act would prevent it from leaping out of her chest cavity.

  Brandy’s barking grew louder with each ring of the phone, but Diana was too nervous to reach for the thing and shut it off. If she died now, how long would it take for someone to wrestle her lifeless body from this baby’s ferocious mouth?

  To her relief, the phone stopped ringing and Brandy lowered back onto her haunches.

  “Okay, I’m going to the kitchen now,” she said, but was really asking for permission.

  Brandy just watched her.

  Diana extended one leg and took her first step. When nothing happened, she was encouraged to take another. At this rate, she’d make it to the kitchen by Christmas. The fact the dog hadn’t attacked her yet should have relaxed her, but logic never quite sounded like logic at times like these.

  Easing next to the dog, she was grateful that her knocking knees didn’t set off another barking frenzy or worse—a violent attack.

  However, she didn’t know what to think when Brandy turned and quietly trotted behind her to the back door. Diana unlocked and slid the glass door open and Brandy crossed the threshold hardly sparing Diana a glance.

  Diana closed the door and almost collapsed into a heap on the floor. Instead, she hurried into the kitchen and quickly prepared the dog’s dinner and refilled the water pail. “So far so good,” she mumbled under her breath and went to let the dog back inside.

  Brandy jetted inside and made a beeline straight into the kitchen as if she knew what would be waiting for her.

  Diana rushed to relock the glass door and was about to head back toward the front door when she stepped on a squeaky toy and bent to pick it up.

  That was her first mistake.

  Marcel couldn’t sit still. His conversation with Diana had him more than a little concerned. Mostly, he didn’t understand why she’d agreed to feed Brandy in the first place. It was either courageous or stupid. He wasn’t sure which.

  He dialed her cell phone again and frowned when he didn’t get an answer.

  “What’s wrong?” Nora asked, rejoining him and handing him a steaming cup of coffee.

  “Nothing, I hope.” He accepted the offered cup, but couldn’t pull his thoughts away from Diana. “Look, you don’t mind just having dinner with Solomon tonight, do you?”

  She straightened in alarm. “Solomon? I didn’t know he was joining us.”

  “Well, we had some business to discuss and I didn’t see anything wrong with trying to kill two birds with one stone. But now I think I need to get back home.”

  “What? Why?”

  “At the moment, I’m a little concerned about my secretary.”

  “Diana?”

  “Yeah. She went to feed Brandy today and she’s terrified of dogs.” A small laugh escaped him.

  Nora shrugged. “So? She’s a big girl.”

  He shrugged as well. “She’s not answering her cell phone so I’m worried.”

  “I don’t see what the big deal is,” she argued. “Just send someone over to check on her.”

  Marcel frowned. “Why are you getting so worked up? I’ve been up here for two weeks. The director promised he’d wrap this shoot by tonight. There’s no reason for me to stay.”

  “But I needed to talk with you.”

  “You know,” he said, crossing his arms, “Solomon is vice president of the company. He’s more than capable of handling whatever issue you might have.” He walked away, shaking his head.

  Thwarting Nora’s cat-and-mouse games was a challenge at times…but fun. How many times had he told her he made it a policy not to get involved with his employees? He frowned as Charlie opened the door to his limousine. If that was true, then why was he racing back to Atlanta to see Diana Guy?

  Chapter 11

  Tim and Caleb stopped by Diana’s apartment only to find a worried Louisa.

  At six-four, Caleb was often hailed as a take-charge kind of guy. In no time, he calmed Lou down enough for her to tell them the last time she’d talked to Diana.

  When Tim heard Diana had left her office eight hours ago, he, too, grew concerned. It wasn’t like Diana not to check in. She was always reliable, dependable and responsible. Something had to have happened.

  “Maybe we should call the police,” Tim suggested.

  Lou unfolded her wrinkled tissue and dabbed her eyes dry. “I’ve already done that. They left here an hour ago, but they said there was nothing they could do until she’d been missing for twenty-four hours.”

  “Maybe she’s out with some of her girlfriends from the job,” Caleb suggested.

  “She doesn’t have girlfriends,” Lou said.

  “None?”

  “None,” Lou and Tim answered in unison.

  Caleb fell silent as he digested that information. His new career in international sales and marketing kept him out of town so he didn’t know Diana as well as his partner.

  “Then let’s pile in the car and retrace her steps,” Caleb said. “That’s gotta be better than sitting a
round twirling our thumbs.”

  “What if she calls?” Lou asked, her eyes filling with tears.

  “She’s right,” Tim said. “Someone should be here if she does call.”

  Caleb nodded. “All right. You two stay here and I’ll go. She still works for T&B Entertainment, right?”

  Lou jumped to her feet and wrapped her short arms around the man she often called a gentle giant. “Oh, thank you. I’ll feel so much better knowing someone is actually out there looking for her.”

  Caleb looped his large arms around her as well and gave her an affectionate squeeze. “I’ll bring her back home.”

  Marcel wasn’t able to leave New York immediately. But he left his personal assistant, Wayne, behind to tidy up any loose ends. By the time his private jet touched down just after midnight he was exhausted. Dreams of a much-needed vacation drifted lazily across his mind.

  He fell asleep in the limo, with dreams of the beautiful island of Bermuda seducing him with its white sandy beaches to dance the night away with bronzed beauties.

  “Sir, were you expecting someone tonight?” Charlie’s voice filtered through the speaker and jarred him from his deep sleep.

  “What?”

  “There’s a car here.”

  Frowning, Marcel pried his eyes open and rolled down his window. At the sight of Diana’s car, he was instantly alert.

  Before the limo rolled to a complete stop, Marcel was out of the vehicle and racing toward the front door. “Diana,” he shouted as the door banged open.

  Brandy’s bark resonated from upstairs and he quickly headed in that direction. Halfway up, he discovered a purse and its contents scattered across the stairs.

  “What in the hell?” He looked up and slowly continued on. “Diana?”

  “Sir, is there a problem?” Charlie asked from the front door.

  “I’ll know in a minute.”

  Brandy bounded out of a bedroom, a toy squeaking loudly from between her teeth.

  “Hey, girl. How are you doing?” He walked up to her and scratched behind her ears. “Where’s Diana?”

  Brandy dropped her toy and cocked her head.