Adieu to Destiny (The Adventures of Anabel Axelrod Book 4)

by Tracy Ellen

  “We’re blood, so that speaks for itself,” James thought it over for a second and then nodded judiciously, “but yes, I’d call him a good friend, too.”

  “That’s cool,” I replied, happy for him, since I knew James was an only child.

  He was wearing an earring in one ear, a gold jingle bell hanging from a short chain that trailed a thin red feather. The scarlet color stood out in his black hair. It had jingled when he nodded. No stoic face tonight, it looked like James might be another man that had imbibed more than his fair share of the happy juice this evening.

  He said, “I had almost given up on you making it tonight.”

  “What?” I exclaimed. “No way. I promised to come when I was with you at the bowling alley the other night. Jazy and I waited for Mia to get off work, so that we could come together.”

  He nodded. “Mia is here, too? I haven’t seen her yet.”

  I glanced around. “Yes, and we all want to know where you’re hiding the naked dancing men?”

  ‘Oh, yay!’ the sex kitten voice squeaked out.

  “You’ve been very patient to wait two minutes before asking,” James replied with a straight-face and then raised black brows, “but why don’t we get a drink first. After that, if you ask real nice, I can give you the fifty cent tour of my home. Perhaps you’ll see one or two along the way.”

  “I waited two entire minutes? That is patient for me.” I laughed. “Lead on, James, my good man, I’d love a tour.”

  The next song started and James smiled, hooked my wrist with his hand, and led me out of the crowd. We’d almost reached the hall when I saw Jazy dancing with her great-looking man, and Max Byrd dancing not too far away with his women--now there were four.

  The song was “Beautiful Liar” by Beyoncé and Shakira. I slowed down to a halt, captivated at the sight of the dance off taking place under the noses of the entire party. Mia was off to the side and watching the dancers, as well.

  “Wait!” I called out urgently to James, yanking on his arm to stop him.

  I was positive Jazy had arranged with the DJ to play this song. When I saw the way she danced with her great-looker, I suddenly understood why she had picked him, too. The thought crossed my mind that Jazy could have flown him in from “Dancing with the Stars”, the man danced that great and my sister was that devious. More importantly, he understood how to showcase a woman so that she appeared sexily alluring. Jazy was already both, so their dancing was hot. I thought Jazy’s moves were more seductive tonight compared to years ago at the Halloween party where we last performed this dance--she was Beyoncé then and I was Shakira.

  However, Jazy had extra incentive tonight. I could safely assume paddy-whacking Max would soon be sporting a boner large enough to shish-ka-bob the butts of the four women riding his thighs.

  “Talk about overkill,” I muttered at all the women, pleased that Jazy intrinsically understood less was more, since Anna and I would never agree on that subject.

  I cut my eyes to James. I saw I didn’t have to explain. His eyeballs were moving back and forth between the two dance groups, the smile growing wider on his face with every passing second.

  We watched until the song was over and then James pulled me out of the crowd into the wide hallway area.

  Once it was relatively quiet enough to talk normally again, he stopped. He surprised me by not saying a word about the dance battle we’d just witnessed, but held out my arm away from my body. He ran his eyes over me briefly before glancing up and smiling.

  “Look at you--a new hair style and a beautiful tan. As usual, you look pretty tonight.” His eyes lowered slightly again and his grin was sinful when it traveled slowly back up. “Maybe even a little…prettier than usual?”

  James Byrd was unbelievably gorgeous when he was a silent statue to be admired from afar. In the flesh and acting frisky, I had no doubt women tripped over their own two feet trying to get off their panties while they had his attention.

  “Thank you.” I released his hand and started walking again. “It’s so nice to hear a compliment from a co-worker with no ulterior motive.”

  “So polite and mannerly,” James mocked lightly as he followed. “Tell me, Anabel, does that line work for you to keep men in their place?”

  “Depends on how smart they are.” When he laughed, I took a second to admire his jingling bell and his crooked vampire tooth before I said, “But we both know how brilliant you are, so I was being sincere, not polite.”

  “My mistake then, thank you,” he murmured, humor still warm in his tone.

  “Hey, no problem,” I said cheerfully, and hooked my arm through his again as we strolled towards a bar set up in an alcove down the hall. “Here’s what I’ve been thinking this past week, Admiral Byrd. I would love us to be friends. Real friends.”

  He slowed again and frowned. “Did you just call me Admiral Byrd?”

  “Uh, yeah.” I laughed a little sheepishly. “Sorry, it slipped out. It was a private joke when I first heard you were Mr. Kinky superstud.” Looking up into his startled face, I headed off his questions and said, “Oh okay, in the spirit of honesty between real friends, I will probably call you many names, so you’ll have to get used to it. The names are meant affectionately.” I tilted my head and added truthfully, “Well, most…some of the time.” Shaking my head impatiently, I laid it out for James. “I don’t have many male friends that aren’t also a relative. My other male friends are guys I dated briefly, or they’re not…” I hesitated, trying to put into words what I was feeling, “well-rounded like you.”

  “You want to be good friends because you think I’m a well-rounded, Mr. Kinky superstud,” James repeated. He was back to being stoic, so I couldn’t tell by his face or voice inflection what he was thinking.

  “I don’t think it, you are well-rounded.” I counted on my fingers. “You have brains, personality, integrity, money, you say those weird Shaman mystical comments, and you are one of the top three sexiest men alive that I have ever seen in the flesh--fully clothed flesh. That’s based on sex appeal alone,” I patted his arm, “although in your case, I have heard nothing but glowing reports on your actual talents.” I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea, so I added quickly, “Not that how you perform sexually matters between friends, but you have to admit it does rack up the cool factor a few notches that you’re infamous for doing those smexy things you do. The woman waiting in the closet,” I shook my head in wonderment. “Man, I still can’t wrap my head around that one.”

  Suddenly parched, I waved a hand in front of my warm face and looked around for a drink. James’ head moved infinitesimally and a waiter appeared at his side with a tray and two champagne flutes filled with sparkling bubbles.

  I murmured my thanks when James silently handed me a flute.

  Toasting him slightly, I took a sip. “Holy Hannah, this is yummy champagne.” I drained the flute and smiled gratefully when James exchanged my empty with the second full flute. I took another long sip of the cool, peachy fizz and then flashed two fingers at the hovering waiter. He grinned and hurried off. I waved my flute. “Where was I?”

  “I’m…smexy,” James supplied helpfully, “and you’re getting your head wrapped around a woman in a closet.”

  “I don’t think that will ever happen.” I laughed and then drained the second flute, licking my lips at the incredible flavor. I’ve never tasted such delicious champagne. “Anyway, I’ve learned recently that sharing life’s details with friends does have some minor benefits.” I beamed at James, loving this concept more every minute. “Besides sharing a work association, you have much to offer in the way of friendship; so I’d very much like us to become good friends--time allowing, of course.” Flashing on a few more of the erotic details Jazy had described in detail about James Byrd sexual activities, I laughed and squeezed his arm. “As for your kinky superstudness, my God, thanks for bringing that up. Now that you’ve offered, I’m standing here getting goose pimples just thinking of all the quest
ions I can ask you about your sex life. Books don’t cut it compared to the depths of your hands on experience just sitting around waiting to be plumbed.”

  James stood perfectly still, and his eyes were shuttered when he restated slowly, “You want to be good friends and ask me questions about my sex life?”

  Accepting the two new champagne flutes from the waiter with a smile of thanks, I passed one to James.

  “Yes, James.” I rolled my eyes because whether men were relatives, friends, or lovers, some character traits were universal to their gender. Men built the first rockets to send people to the moon, but they had the hardest time with the simplest concepts. I giggled and teased, “Well, I may ask you a question or two on other subjects as well, but sure, I’ll ask you questions about your sex life if you want.”

  I held up my flute and he somewhat absently clinked before we both tossed back the champagne.

  James ran a hand over his face and then chuckled slightly. “Anabel, you do know I am a man, right?”

  “Well, duh, absolutely I do.” I chuckled, too, while setting our empty glasses aside on a ledge along the wall. “If you weren’t such a man, I probably wouldn’t want to be your real friend because then you’d be like most of the other men that I’m friends with already that aren’t so well...”

  “Well-rounded,” James finished, nodding. “Yes, I get it.”

  I squeezed his arm again. “See, that proves my point right there.”

  While James covered his face with both hands and laughed rather wildly, another thought flashed across my mind and I frowned. I noticed James hadn’t exactly jumped all over my offer to be friends. We were already involved in a business relationship, so I didn’t flatter myself the reason could be James hoped to date me. When listing all the gifts he’d bring to the table, I couldn’t help but comparing them to mine. James might not believe I had as much to offer in return as a real friend.

  A surge of people came into the hallway from behind us and I glanced over at them briefly. Not seeing Mia or Jazy in their midst, I faced James again and gripped the laughing man’s upper arms.

  That might have been a mistake because I was immediately distracted by the size of his biceps. Purely out of muscle memory, my fingers started to knead, but once I was aware of their actions, I ordered them to behave. To avoid temptation, I slid down and clenched his forearms.

  I shook James a little to get his attention. “Excuse me for interrupting you laughing your butt off, but did I mention all the perks of being my friend?”

  James dropped his hands from his face. Chiseled lips were curved as he raised his black brows. “If I’m as brilliant as you say, should you have to?”

  “Touché, pussycat!” I exclaimed, and shook him again for emphasis. “Oh my God, see what I mean? I’m feeling the perks of our friendship already.”

  James casually gripped my forearms in return when my boot heel slid on the slate floor and I tottered for a second. He asked dryly, “Are you sure that’s not the three glasses of champagne you slammed back in three minutes you’re feeling?”

  “James, don’t be so humble,” I chidingly teased, as we stood like Greco-Roman wrestlers-- platonic Greco-Roman wrestlers because what those dudes got up to in their matches made Tantric yoga for lovers look tame. “It takes a heck of a lot more than three baby thimbles of the bubbly to get me tipsy,” I added with a pointed look, “something you’d know if we were real friends.”

  Long black hair gleaming like satin fell forward on either side of his face when he leaned his head down to look at me and laughed. “Okay, sell me on the perks I can expect in our friendship.”

  I made sure the milling partygoers weren’t too close and listening. My eye landed on a flash of bright yellow down the hall, but then it was gone and I didn’t spot anyone I knew.

  I faced James, flicked his jungle bell earring, and said softly, “I do not want or need your money. I do not want or need your protection. I do not want or need you for your good looks or your body. What you can expect is a woman who will be your friend for the person you are inside. You can trust me and you can confide in me, but you don’t have to take my word on that. Let time show you.” I smiled and squeezed his forearms. “Think how fun it will be to be liked for the real you, and to like a woman for herself. Not as a flirty prerequisite to becoming a plaything to have kinky sex with and then disregard because it’s too awkward to be friends.”

  “You do remember I just told you I was man, don’t you? There’s nothing men like more than new playthings and kinky sex.” His grip tightened on my forearms, but his voice was lightly curious. “What if that is the real me and that’s the only use I have for women in my life?”

  I shook my head. “Eerie. I was rudely asked a version of that same question regarding myself today. I guess that man is a part of the real you, but there’s other parts of us that need attention, too. I can’t believe you have no use for women besides sex and giving them business direction. You’re no misogynist. That’s where our friendship comes in. Should we give it a try?”

  He let me go and tapped a lip with one finger while he nodded slowly. “It’s not like you won’t be around, since I’m already giving you business direction, so the extra time outlay will be minimal. Now that I know you better, I’m not attracted to you sexually, so it should be no problem holding back the kinky superstud in me...”

  I laughed and applauded. “Tell me, James, does that line work for you to keep women in their place in your closet?”

  He smiled broadly. “Unlike your line, mine does not require brains in the recipient.”

  I whistled soundlessly. “The origin of the term ‘dumb fuck’. Thank you.” I nodded in understanding. “Now I have my head wrapped around why you need to have a drink and wait a half hour to build enthusiasm for your woman in a closet, poor man.”

  James groaned. “Is this what our real friendship is going to be like? You ask me questions about my sex life and then pick apart my motivations?”

  “Sure, if you want.” I laughed. “Oh wait. You do know I’m a woman, right?”

  Behind me, a voice said, “In that shirt, Anabel, a blind man could see you’re a woman.”

  Even slightly slurred and being more than slightly offensive, that deep voice still caused shivers to race up and down my entire body.

  I slowly turned around to see Luke and entourage standing behind us in a loose semi-circle.

  Chapter IX

  “Wicked Game” by Chris Isaak

  Saturday, 12/15

  11:50 PM

  Luke looked past me, and for a second there was something dangerous in his gaze. “Lucky for us, we’re not anywhere near blind, are we, Byrd?”

  “I’m not,” James replied easily, his face wearing a polite social smile. “I have perfect vision.”

  Glancing back at Luke, there was a friendly smile curving his lips, too. Nothing on his face indicated what I thought I’d seen flash in his eyes a moment ago. Instead, Luke had the blank, distant expression of a stranger again that was starting to give me the freakin’ willies.

  I opened my mouth to ask him to walk down the hallway with me, but my boyfriend started talking to James.

  “Thanks for the invite.” He raised a fist to James’, and didn’t appear fazed when he missed the bump by about a mile, but merely chuckled. “Your house is something else, man. These are my partners from Chicago.” He motioned vaguely to each person as he introduced them. “Dan White, Emma, his wife. Daniel Boynton and his girlfriend, Pussy,” he grinned wolfishly while she giggled and slapped his arm, “I mean, Prissy Powers.” He pointed a thumb over his shoulder at Pam and John. “Think you’ve met those two already.”

  While James nodded and exchanged greetings with everyone, encouraging them to get drinks, dance, and enjoy the party, I burned at Luke’s crude joke and the fact he had introduced his partners to James. I added two more line items underlined on my mental Luke Drake shit list to be addressed. When I got to the bottom of whatever th
is drinking stranger act was all about, Torquemada was going to be on the receiving end of some unpleasantness that would make thumb screws feel like foreplay.

  Luke smiled widely around at his friends. “We’ve been dancing and enjoying James’ hospitality for a while, right, guys?”

  Daniel agreed loudly and lifted a silver flask to James, drinking deeply.

  They must have left Brisbane’s right after we did. I hoped it was Dan who had driven the Chicago group to the party because everyone else looked smashed. They had reached their legal limit on alcohol hours ago. Dan looked uptight, but at least he wasn’t swaying on his feet or talking in tongues like his disturbed wife. Or maybe they all rode with John, since he was driving his own SUV. He’d spent the last week helping Pam sort out her life while they stayed at Luke’s farm.

  While I was AWOLing in concern over their personal safety and possible arrests, Bucky was giggling and had reached over to rub Luke’s biceps again. I stared at the spot, only vaguely hearing her flirty, drunken compliments of Luke’s dancing while she whined that Daniel never danced. She was running off the mouth next praising Luke’s fighting abilities and athletic prowess. At the rate she was going, maybe she scored his lovemaking skills next, but I was no longer listening. I had experienced a moment of illumination, as if I was stuck by a lightning bolt.

  I had danced for Luke at His Turn, but Luke and I had never been out dancing together on any of our dates. I had no idea he could dance, but when I imagined him now on the dance floor with Bucky riding his leg like the women on Max Byrd, of course my black panther would be hot as hell.

  ‘I love to dance,’ I wailed inside, inexplicably anxious we’d missed something important that couldn’t be regained. ‘How could it be that we’ve never danced together?’

  ‘Too busy busting moves in the bedroom?’ the detective voice replied matter-of-factly.

  That explanation while true did not make me feel one bit better.