by Debra Lee
She left Charles, her chauffeur, with instructions to wait for her before she stepped out of the limousine parked in front of the brick office building that towered above the courthouse across the street.
Jackie crossed the lobby to the elevator and pressed the button for the ninth floor. Her stomach churned painfully when the door slid open. But she did an excellent job of concealing her discomfort the second she walked into the reception area of the attorney’s office. She played the part of the important movie producer. The deep blue colored suit she chose was tailored to fit her slender curves. Her silk blouse was the same blue shade of her eyes. She thought it appropriate attire for a meeting with the dignified Randal Alexander.
“Mr. Alexander will see you now, Miss Bertoni,” the friendly receptionist said after returning from the inner office she’d disappeared inside seconds ago to announce Jackie’s arrival.
Jackie entered the spacious room furnished with expensive colonial pieces. The gray haired aristocrat stood from behind his desk the instant Jackie entered the room. The expensively suited man came around the desk to welcome her with a warm smile and handshake.
“It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Bertoni. Desmond spoke of you often.” Jackie saw sadness come into his expression as she let herself down on one of the two straight back chairs in front of his desk. “But I do regret our meeting under these circumstances,” he commented as he made his way back to his chair.
“We all miss Desmond,” Jackie said, feeling a bit silly for making such a typical comment.
“Would you like me to read this to you in its entirety?” he asked as he fingered the document in front of him.
“That won’t be necessary. Just tell me what I need to know.”
Randal Alexander cleared his throat. “There’s nothing too complicated about it. Desmond left his entire estate to you, Miss Bertoni. The real estate investments, stock holdings, everything. A net worth of just under one billion dollars.”
A burst of heat moved up her neck to her face. “I must confess I know very little about Desmond’s investments or stock holdings. To be quite frank, I know very little about my own holdings.” She took a breath. “Tracking stocks and juggling money from mutual funds to whatever is something I left for Desmond and his financial advisors to deal with. But you give me a good script, Mr. Alexander, and I can turn it into a great movie.”
The pleasant smile on Randal Alexander’s thin face faded. “After hearing how much you love your work, Miss Bertoni, I must point out that Sinclair Productions was not solely owned by Desmond.
The powerful blow his words hit her with knocked the wind out of her. When she could breathe again she managed to speak. “Are you saying I have a partner, Mr. Alexander?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“That I do not know. You see, Miss Bertoni a few years back the company got into some financial difficulty.”
“Desmond mentioned it to me. That was the year we took on one too many big budget projects. But Desmond told me not to worry, that he’d handle it.”
“He did. He found an investor who was willing to overlook the fact the company was on the verge of bankruptcy. Though, Desmond had to give this investor sixty percent ownership.”
A hot flash torpedoed through Jackie again. “I only own forty percent of Sinclair Productions?”
“That’s right.”
“This investor has the controlling interest?”
“Correct.”
Jackie went silent. Her mind raced frantically for a solution. She wished she’d paid closer attention to the financial side of running the company. She wished she hadn’t trusted Desmond to handle things. But none of that mattered now. The only thing that did was getting back control of the company she loved more than life.
“Mr. Alexander, you’ve told me my net worth is nearly a billion dollars.”
“Yes.”
“Well then, it’s quite clear what can be done. I’ll buy out this investor.”
“I suppose if owning the company means so much to you it could be arranged.”
“It means everything to me, Mr. Alexander.” She sighed with relief. “I’d like you to handle it for me.”
“It would be a pleasure, Miss Bertoni.”
Jackie stood and extended her hand across the desk to him, sealing the deal with a handshake.
As he walked her to the door, he said, “I will be in touch with you just as soon as I make contact with the investor.”
“I look forward to hearing from you soon.”
She left his office distraught. The whole matter sent an unsettling feeling through her. Not knowing who had controlling interest in the company would make it impossible to move forward on the upcoming project. What if she were in the middle of making the movie and this investor decided he didn’t like it and pulled the plug? There were so many what ifs.
When she stepped off the elevator and into the lobby, she had only one thought on her mind. Mr. Alexander had better locate this silent investor quickly.
“Well, what brings the big shot movie producer down to these parts of town?” questioned Andrew Michaels as he came in the front door, nearly colliding with her.
Jackie was so caught up in her thoughts that his words startled her. Once she saw who the arrogant voice belonged to and her footing was on solid ground, she responded in a tone as contemptuous as his. “Mr. District Attorney, I don’t believe that is any of your business.”
He snickered. “Okay, you got me. I guess I can assume then that you weren’t here to see me.”
“Why would I want to see you?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe to turn over that book I mentioned last night.”
Jackie chuckled. “Yes, the mysterious book Desmond supposedly kept containing information you could use to indict organized crime leaders. Wasn’t it something to that effect, Mr. District Attorney?”
“Something like that, Miss Bertoni.” The arrogance was gone, making way for Jackie to leave with the feeling that his obsession with Desmond’s journal had ended for now. But his voice came to her again as she stepped from the building. “Jackie, I want you to know my door is always open to you, day or night.”
She hesitated, but was unable to look back at him.
On the ride to the studio her thoughts returned to the book the district attorney was so interested in. She’d practically memorized the contents of the journal. Had Desmond forgotten to write about selling shares in his company? Or did he leave the financial transaction out of the book on purpose? But why?
She let her mind drift back to those stressful days after back-to-back failures at the box office on two big budget movies they’d produced. She remembered the day Desmond came home unexpectedly and nearly caught her reading the journal.
The front door banging shut had alerted her of his presence and she quickly shoved the book under the chair, his chair, she’d been sitting in to read. He’d entered the room wearing a big smile before announcing he’d taken care of their financial problem.
Jackie squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth. She knew why he hadn’t written about who he’d sold sixty percent of the company to in the journal. He’d sent her upstairs to change because they were going out to celebrate. While she dressed, he’d gone to the vault to retrieve the journal so he could write about the transaction. But the book wasn’t there.
She returned the journal to the vault after their celebration and never gave the incident another thought until now. Desmond had made a number of entries after that night he discovered she’d been secretly reading the book. But why didn’t he record the name of his investor?
Jackie found it impossible to concentrate on work that day or the ones that followed. Her thoughts were continually consumed with the fear Randal Alexander would be unsuccessful in locating the investor. What troubled her almost as much is why Desmond wanted to keep her from knowing the person’s identity. Then there would be those pleasant thoughts of what it would be l
ike when Marcus returned. Only, every time she thought about Marcus, Andrew Michaels would manage to gain entry into her thoughts. Just what did he mean by my door is always open to you, day or night?
The telephone on the corner of her desk began ringing off the hook when Jackie remembered Peggy was at lunch and it was up to her to answer it.
“Hello,” she said, annoyed by the interruption of her daydreaming. The instant Randal Alexander identified himself Jackie perked up in her seat.
“Yes, Mr. Alexander… Did you say an Italian firm? Offer whatever it takes… I don’t care if you have to sell everything I own, just get me that sixty percent of my company.” Her hands were trembling when she put down the receiver. Didn’t that man know she didn’t care anything at all about overpaying? Didn’t he know she’d give the clothes off her back if it meant gaining complete control of Sinclair Productions?
Chapter Six
Marcus was in his home office in the middle of an intense meeting with his attorney, Bernardo Faustino, who sat across the desk from him. Tony Muzzerelli was leafing through a magazine from his seat on the sofa, pretending not to be listening to the legal mumble jumble going on around him. But he hadn’t missed a word of the conversation.
A soft tap on the door came before Talia carried a tray of refreshments inside. An immediate halt came to the discussion the moment Marcus’s wife entered the room.
“Thought you might need a break,” Talia said as she began passing out glasses of wine. Marcus eased back in his chair, a smile of admiration on his face as he watched his wife glide around the room.
“Are you ready for the big move to America, Talia?” Bernardo asked as he accepted a glass. Talia stood at her husband’s side. She glanced down to him for the vote of confidence she needed before she could answer the man who’d been the family’s legal representative since the days when Marcus’s father was building his organization.
“The children are much more anxious than me.” Marcus’s hand slid around her waist, hugging her to his side. “But a wife’s place is at her husband’s side.”
“I’m certain once you get settled in your new home in California you will adjust just fine.”
“I know I will,” she agreed and kissed the top of Marcus’s head before leaving the men to take up where they left off.
Several months ago, Marcus had decided to move his family to America. His business interest had expanded rapidly into the country with the help of Desmond Sinclair. The move seemed logical when business kept him abroad more than at home. He also believed America offered more for his children than his homeland did.
“What about this offer from that American attorney?” Bernardo asked a second time before he had Marcus’s attention. “The offer for your share of that Hollywood production company is a generous one.”
“My share’s not for sale.”
“But you’d more than triple your initial investment.”
No amount of money could change Marcus’s mind. He liked knowing he owned the biggest chunk of Sinclair Productions, especially now that he knew who Desmond had left his shares to.
The meeting ended and Bernardo Faustino packed up his briefcase and left. Marcus waited until he was gone before looking to Tony.
“Don’t you need to take a walk or something?”
Tony dropped the magazine and jumped to his feet. “A walk sounds good. How long should I take, boss?”
“Twenty minutes should do it.”
Marcus reached for the phone the moment Tony pulled the door shut behind him.
***
Jackie was sitting at her desk reviewing a screenplay recommended by a top notch agent when the extension line on the telephone rang. She continued reading as she reached over and pushed down the intercom button.
“Yes Peggy.”
“I know you said to hold all calls, but there’s a man on the line insisting you’ll speak with him.”
Jackie continued to focus on the script. “What man?”
“A Marcus DeMario.”
Jackie knocked over an empty coffee cup grabbing for the receiver, then pressed down the blinking red button to release the hold on the incoming call.
“Marcus!”
“Morning beautiful.”
A smile climbed over her delicate features as she eased back in her chair. “Good morning.”
“I just called to let you know I miss you.”
The sound of his husky voice brought rise to all kinds of wonderful sensations firing through her. “How soon do I get to see you?”
“Is tomorrow night soon enough?”
“I can’t wait.”
“Dinner at my hotel suite at eight okay?”
Come on, Jackie, pop the question that inner voice repeated until Jackie relented. “Have you asked your wife for a divorce?”
“Tonight before I leave.” The familiar tapping on his door came before Talia stepped inside. Marcus glanced up to see her inviting smile. “I must go now. We’ll discuss this matter further tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” Jackie repeated, but realized Marcus had already hung up.
She shrugged off the way he’d suddenly cut her off. Tomorrow seemed like an eternity to wait, then too soon. When she thought about giving herself to the man, her body ached for his touch. But there was that other side of her. She remembered the pain, the promise she’d made to herself after the last time. The combination of the two sides playing tug of war had her confused in a way like she hadn’t known in a long time.
It seemed senseless for her to finish reading the screenplay staring up at her. She was unable to expand her concentration level beyond thoughts of Marcus and how seeing him after all these years had changed everything.
By two o’clock, Jackie packed up her attaché case, calling it a day. On the drive home, she listened to her chauffeur Charles tell one of his stories she’d heard at least a hundred times before. Under other circumstances she’d have let her mind drift off to thoughts of work. But today she listened for no other reason than to shove aside the thoughts of Marcus that had been driving her to the brink of insanity.
They arrived home and the story ended, making way once again for entry of thoughts, questions about the man she’d wanted so desperately to hate.
“I’m home, Sara,” she announced the minute she entered the house.
Jackie crossed the living room to the study before remembering the housekeeper was spending the day with a sick friend.
An eerie sensation crawled over her as she poured herself a bourbon. The feeling was not new to her and was appearing more often when she was alone in the house. She glanced at her favorite chair, then walked to the one end of the room where Desmond had installed the fireproof and burglarproof vault behind the electronically moveable bookcase. She punched in the safe’s numbers from memory and opened the heavy door. She stared at the thick book on the top shelf for several minutes before picking it up and carrying it with her to the chair.
The afternoon turned into evening and Jackie continued to read, searching for another reason to hate the man that was once again acquiring a hold on her heart.
She read the detailed information on the way the heroin was shipped into this country. Desmond even recorded drop locations and names of everyone involved in the chain of operation. There were entries linking Marcus to the assassination of those who dared to interfere in the operation.
But none of the gruesome details that described the kind of man Marcus was were powerful enough to overshadow all the sensual feelings that washed through her when she first saw him again after sixteen years of separation.
When she returned the journal to the vault, she no longer felt confused. She knew the good and bad about the man who’d ask her for a second chance. She didn’t understand why, but found herself able to set aside the bad. And the wrenching heartache she’d carried with her from Italy seemed too long ago to even remember.
Chapter Seven
The next morning, Jackie gave Charles the day off a
nd drove herself into the city to shop. She took her time selecting the dress she would wear on her dinner date. It had taken hours of searching and trying on dress after dress before she found it. The red dress was styled with shaping shoulder pads, mock front pocket and a front wrap with dramatic shirring and self fabric covered buttons. The fit was perfectly snug enough to outline her slender curves just as she had intended. A pair of red heels to match and she was outfitted.
The next two hours were spent at the beauty salon. Besides the wash and style she had a facial and manicure. The only thing remaining to do before her eight o’clock date was the hour wait that had her pacing until she nearly collapsed from mental and physical exhaustion.
Before she left the house she downed a double shot of bourbon to bring some kind of control over her nervousness. But she somehow knew that even if she had drunk the entire bottle, she’d still be trembling like she was now as she stood outside the door to his hotel suite.
Several very deep breaths came before she located the courage to knock. She heard footsteps approaching before the door swung open and she was pulled inside. Into the darkness. She could not clearly see the face or the mouth about to cover hers. But she recognized the seductive scent of his cologne, then the taste of his lips massaging hers.
A painful moan escaped him as he withdrew his lips. “You taste so good, baby,” he murmured before easing his chest off hers, freeing her from where he had pinned her back to the door.
Once she caught her breath, Jackie followed him deeper into the room where he began switching on lights. He appeared to be doing everything possible to avoid looking at her. Once he rotated the bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket of ice, he gazed at her legs briefly before slowly looking upward until deep-set dark pupils were gazing into the sea blue shade of hers.
