The CEO's Dilemma ; Undeniable Passion

by Lindsay Evans

  “I wouldn’t want to mess up your hair,” he said while still draped across her, his powerful arm slowly working the window crank.

  The smell of the truck’s vintage leather seats, Roman’s natural, masculine scent and the musky notes of his aftershave all settled a wild heat in Aisha’s lap.

  God, he was making it hard to not jump his bones.

  When he finally drew back to his side of the truck, she breathlessly thanked him, squeezed her thighs together and prayed he couldn’t detect how badly she wanted him.

  “Where are we heading?” he asked.

  Aisha told him the address. “Do you want me to put it in the GPS?”

  “No,” he said. “I’m familiar with that part of town.”

  Feminist to the core, she didn’t realize how sexy it was for a man not to need directions until she watched him confidently head for the highway and point the truck toward her sister’s new gallery. Less than a half hour later, they pulled into the parking lot of the gallery, laughter filling the truck as they finished their conversation about alien architecture in movies they’d both seen.

  The parking lot serviced the cluster of six businesses in a row of two-story buildings. It was typical for the north Atlanta neighborhood with its restaurants, yoga spots and boutiques vying for attention from the steady foot traffic.

  In the middle, the gallery would have been just like its neighbors except for the pair of twenty-foot-high wings rising above it made of reinforced and laminated multicolored glass. Even in the light of evening, they glistened like they’d been plucked from the back of a giant firebird, drawing the eye in and then down to the small gallery protected by them.

  “This is an incredible building.” Roman pulled the truck to a complete stop, already looking out at the glassed-in, two-story gallery in front of them.

  “Isn’t it, though?” Aisha kept the gallery in her sights as she left the truck without waiting for Roman to open the door for her.

  Every time she saw it, it made her smile.

  During the day this part of town was casual, Atlanta-wealthy chic. Now Aisha could see a significant portion of the foot traffic, dressed in cocktail casual as Dev had suggested, making its way to the glittering wings. The warm night sang with the sound of conversation and laughter.

  Roman locked the truck and came around the front to join Aisha. “Ready?”

  “Of course.” She tucked her arm through his and they walked toward the gallery together. The clear glass doors automatically parted to let them in, then stayed open, allowing the people behind them in, as well. Cool air from inside the large space brushed over Aisha’s face and bare arms, and she shivered and smiled.

  It all felt very fresh, very new. The ceiling was high and soaring and led the eye to the lofted space above. It, too, was glassed in, but because the glass was reflective and UV repellant, no one outside could see in. And, most important, artwork stored up there was in the safest possible place. The entire building was light and airy and gave the paintings on display room to breathe, to be seen. It was perfect.

  Beautiful people wove their way through the gallery. Soft jazz played from the speakers and wait staff circulated with champagne in flutes. Along the walls, Aisha noticed some paintings already had red dots next to them, indicating that they were sold.

  God, Dev must be so happy!

  As if she’d conjured her sister out of thin air, Aisha saw Dev across the room. Partially hidden from view behind a sculpted steel tree, her sister whispered intimately with her husband. Bennett’s pale gray, three-piece suit was the perfect complement to Dev’s black dress and high heels. They even looked like they belonged together.

  Bennett’s hand lingered on Dev’s waist, his mouth close to her ear as they stood in a pool of golden light meant to illuminate the sculpture. Their love for each other was so obvious, it was blinding.

  Aisha let out a low sigh of mingled happiness and longing as she watched them. This was what she wanted for herself one day.

  But Dev’s guests weren’t about to allow her time with her husband. Despite the intimacy of her stance with Bennett, a man tapped her on the shoulder, clearing asking her a question only she had the answer to. Waving away his wife’s look of disappointment, Bennett dropped a kiss to the inside of her wrist and left her to her adoring crowd.

  “Tonight is going to be amazing for her.” Aisha leaned into Roman with the joy for her sister’s success fizzing in her chest.

  “I agree,” he said, his eyes glowing down into hers. “The turnout is as impressive as the place itself.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  Suddenly, Aisha heard Dev call her name. She forced herself to look away from Roman’s dark eyes and the sensuous curve of his faintly smiling lips.

  “There you are!” Her sister walked quickly toward her, dragging a besotted-looking man in her wake. The man who’d interrupted her and Bennett. “This is my sister, Aisha. She designed the building.”

  Smiling wide, Dev swept Aisha into a tight embrace. She smelled of success and champagne. “There’s someone I’d love for you to meet, Aisha.” She indicated the man at her side. “This is Sidney Dubois from that architectural magazine I mentioned the other day. He called as soon as I announced the opening, begging for an invitation so he could come to gawk at the inside of the building.” With a teasing look, she turned to Sidney, a flush of success on her high cheeks. “Aisha is the brilliant architect who helped make tonight possible.”

  Aisha’s own cheeks grew warm. “You did all the work, Dev. I just gave you the only gift you’d allow me to.”

  Before Dev made the gallery happen mostly on her own, Aisha had offered her some money to get it started, to help buy the building and begin the process of acquiring art. But her sister had fought her tooth and nail, wanting to do it all on her own and not accept what she’d thought of at the time as charity.

  So Aisha had done what she could. Before Dev had even told her she had the money from another source to get the gallery off the ground, Aisha had jumped into action. She’d drafted the building and, with her brother’s help, had bought the property—after asking Dev some pointed questions about what her ideal space would be like—and then started the construction. While designing it, she’d known the exterior had to represent her sister’s dreams finally taking flight. Which was why it had the wings, glittering and protective and attention-grabbing.

  Once Dev had finally decided to push forward with plans to open her own gallery, Aisha had presented her with the gift. And now, here they were.

  Ignoring Sidney, she grabbed Dev again. “Congratulations, sister.” Aisha hugged her tight. “You made this happen for yourself. You deserve all of this.”

  When they pulled back from each other, Devyn’s eyes were wet, too. “It’s been so incredible. God! I feel so blessed. So lucky.”

  “You’ll get nothing less when you follow your dreams,” Aisha said. She gestured to the building around them and the wings rising outside where they stood, the skylight above them open and looking up into the starry night threaded with wisps of clouds. It was like they were being lifted by the wings up into the sky. “You’ll fly.”

  “Stop! You’re going to make me cry again.” But Dev was already crying anyway. Good thing she’d worn her waterproof mascara.

  Over her shoulder, Aisha saw a couple moving purposefully toward Dev. “Your people are coming for you.” She gently wiped the tears from her sister’s face and gave her a quick kiss. Then she quickly introduced Roman before the couple arrived to claim her sister. “Now go be awesome.”

  “Devyn,” the man said as he drew close, “how did you manage to get such an impressive collection so quickly? I want to buy absolutely everything.”

  With an encouraging smile, Aisha waved her sister off and moved into the crowd. Roman kept step at her side.

  “So you’re the one who designed
this place.” He swept his gaze around them, eyes lingering on different parts of the space, as if he was somehow trying to connect it with Aisha.

  “Yes, I did.” She heard the pride in her voice and tried to pull it back, not wanting to seem too boastful. But she’d worked hard on the design, a part of her reminded. “I’m just glad she ended up loving it. Nothing like giving someone a present they hate.”

  A waiter paused near them as they made their way through the crush of people. Roman took a pair of champagne flutes and passed one to Aisha. “This design is creative and eye-catching. I can’t imagine anyone not loving it. Like I said outside, it’s damn incredible.”

  She flushed with pleasure and bit her lip on a smile. “Thank you.”

  As they passed an empty high table, Aisha put down her glass of untouched champagne.

  “Trying to stay sober tonight?”

  “Not really. I just don’t drink champagne,” Aisha said. “Makes my nose itch. And next day, no matter how little I drink, I have a headache from hell.”

  “Ah...” Roman nodded and sipped from his glass. “This is nice,” he said, eyeing the champagne and the bubbles that danced inside the golden liquid.

  “I’ll take your word for it.” Actually, she was pretty sure it was excellent. Probably imported from some small, centuries-old, family-run vineyard in the Champagne region of France. Bennett, Devyn’s husband, had taken care of all the food and drinks for the opening and, like Aisha, he wanted and no doubt got only the best for Devyn. As for Aisha, she’d never been able to stand champagne, no matter how expensive, no matter how much the people she dated tried to convince her she just hadn’t tasted the right one yet. “For now, I’ll leave it to people who can appreciate it.”

  “I’ll appreciate it for both of us then,” Roman said with one of his eye-crinkling smiles.

  It wasn’t long before they found Ahmed and his wife. They stood in front of a painting, Ahmed’s arm around Elle’s waist, her head leaning against him. They were arguing, as only lovers could, about what image they were supposed to be seeing in the abstract work.

  “I think it’s a penis with legs,” Elle said, wrinkling her brow. She brought her half-finished glass of white wine to her lips and dared her husband with a look. “And you can’t tell me it’s anything else.”

  “Back in the day, that would’ve been describing my brother to a T.” Aisha slipped between them to give her sister-in-law a quick hug then teased her brother by nudging him even further away from his wife with her hip. “A giant penis with legs.”

  “I know you think you’re funny, Aisha. Hate to break it to you, but you’re not.”

  Her brother poked her waist and Aisha giggled, jumping away before his tickling could get any more aggressive. “Stop! It’s not my fault you don’t have a sense of humor.”

  Elle squeezed Aisha’s waist and pointedly jerked her chin at Roman, who patiently waited to be introduced. Aisha mentally crossed her fingers that her brother wouldn’t do anything to embarrass her. She beckoned Roman forward, fingers curling into his belt loops when he was close enough to touch him. “Let me introduce you guys to Roman.” She shot her brother a warning glare. “Roman, this is my brother, Ahmed, and his wife, Elle.”

  “A pleasure.” Roman shook hands with Ahmed and, when Elle looked at him with her open expression, leaned down to give her a brief hug. “It’s good to meet you both,” he said. “Aisha hasn’t told me a thing about you.”

  Ahmed let out a shout of laughter. “I think I’m going to like this one, Aisha.”

  Roman grinned. “Seriously, though. Props to you for all the good work you’re doing in the community. Saving Black kids and Black schools should be a priority for more people.”

  Ahmed nodded, his face growing serious. “I can’t imagine doing anything else.” When Elle shifted next to him, her face soft with pride, he took her hand in his. “Other than loving my wife, of course.”

  “Ugh! You guys are so gross.” Aisha made a gagging noise.

  Elle giggled and her brother lunged forward to tickle her again. “Stop being such a baby, Aisha.”

  Aisha rolled her eyes. For all her antics and teasing, she was so proud of Ahmed. Not only for being such a role model in their community but also for shifting his world view in a way that opened him up to love. A few years ago she could never have imagined him doing something like this—holding a woman’s hand in public and showing how he felt about her. Some days, parts of her ached with jealousy for what he’d found. Mostly though, she was just very happy for him.

  She felt a warm weight settle on her back, soothing her through the thin material of her dress. Roman. She dipped her gaze to watch him from the corner of her eye. A smile touched his face and he seemed relaxed next to her, sipping his champagne and taking everything in.

  Even just taking up space, he was beautiful to look at.

  “—job, Aisha.”

  “What?” Elle had said something and Aisha had missed it completely.

  Her sister-in-law gave a knowing smile. “I was saying how beautiful the building is and it’s so perfect for Devyn. You did an amazing job finding the space and designing it.”

  “Oh! Thank you.” Her cheeks warmed as she waved aside the compliment. “It’s the only present she’s getting from me this year so she better enjoy it.”

  Elle laughed and Ahmed rolled his eyes. Again.

  Suddenly, Roman’s hand disappeared from Aisha’s back. Immediately she missed its warmth. Then she shivered when he pulled her close and dipped his mouth to her ear. His lips brushed the side of her neck and he drew back with an apologetic smile.

  “Excuse me. I see someone I need to say hello to.” Once he got Aisha’s trembling response, he nodded at Elle and Ahmed. “I’m sure I’ll see you guys again later.” Then he was off, slipping between the clusters of strangers to make his way to the other side of the room.

  Aisha shamelessly watched him. The broad sweep of his shoulders, his narrow waist, the way the slim fit of the slacks hugged his butt. She bit her lip and barely suppressed a sigh of lust.

  “He’s the Sykes Global guy, isn’t he?”

  “Huh?”

  Elle’s soft peals of laughter dragged her attention off Roman’s ass. “That answers my question.”

  “What are you talking about?” But the color rushed furiously to Aisha’s cheeks.

  She knew exactly what her sister-in-law meant. The only way she would have been more obvious about her infatuation with Roman Sykes was if she wrote it across the sky in giant, passion-red letters.

  “He’s cute,” Elle said with a dip of her shoulder and a smile. “I can see why you’re all aflutter.”

  “I’m not ‘aflutter’ about him,” Aisha said, her blush only getting worse.

  “I don’t even know what the hell ‘aflutter’ means, but I agree a hundred percent that you’re gone for this guy,” Ahmed muttered. “So much for taking it easy where he’s concerned.”

  Oh God. Must he do the whole big brother thing right now?

  Elle tapped her husband’s arm. “I’m pretty sure you told her to take it easy, love. She didn’t exactly agree that was going to be her strategy.”

  “Are you both ganging up on me now?” Ahmed looked between Aisha and his wife, and Aisha couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Excuse me. Are you Aisha Clark?”

  The sound of the low, cultured voice nearby made her turn. A woman walked up to where she, Ahmed and Elle were talking, confident in a black dress that draped loosely around her body and brushed the floor. Her lipstick was a deep red and her hair the darkest tone Aisha had ever seen on a person in real life. It shone under the gallery’s lights, jewel-like. Something about this woman was familiar.

  “Yes, I am.” Aisha offered her hand. “And you are?”

  “Emersyn.” The woman clasped her hand in a cool and con
fident greeting. “Pleased to meet you.”

  The man with her nodded, a motion that was at once warm and elegant. He was beautiful, with smooth skin, a keenly intelligent face and eyes that missed nothing. After the nod, he didn’t offer his hand.

  “Patrick,” he said by way of introducing himself. “It’s a pleasure for me, as well. You designed this building, yes?”

  In his rich Nigerian accent, the question was more a statement.

  Aisha felt more than saw her brother and his wife exchange puzzled looks. “Yes, I did.”

  “It’s very well done,” Emersyn said with a smile. “The building, even with the wings, fits nicely into the old space but doesn’t at all blend in.”

  “Very lovely. Very functional. Wonderful use of the glass. It reminds me of a cathedral. And it’s obvious you had it in mind to house this gallery all along.”

  “Thank you,” Aisha said, puzzled but pleased.

  “Do you mind very much showing us around the building? It really is quite unique.” Patrick swept an approving glance around them, smiling in a way that was both oddly cool and warm.

  “It’s my sister’s gallery opening and it’s her space. I’d suggest you speak with her. She’d be happy to talk with you about it.”

  “You wouldn’t be happy to talk about it?” Emersyn asked, her head tilted in a way that made it seem like she was examining Aisha for more than just her answer to that particular question.

  “Stop teasing the woman, Emersyn.” Still smiling, Patrick tugged at the light scarf around his neck, resettling it into a configuration that was no different from the original. “She’s teasing,” he said to Aisha. “We’ve already spoken with your sister and she’s very charming, but she’s also busy with selling the art and enjoying her golden moment. We thought it would be lovely to get a different view of things from you.”

  Patrick and Emersyn weren’t obnoxious, exactly, but they seemed almost too interested in talking with her. What was going on here?

  But this was Devyn’s moment, and it made sense that her sister was busy doing what she was meant to, namely enjoy her success and all the people who’d come out to see her. Aisha was still uncertain, though. “Ah...sure.”