The Ramseys Boxed Set

by Altonya Washington

  “Ms. Warren? Are you alright over here?”

  County smiled up at the waiter. “Actually, I’d like to send a bottle of champagne to that noisy table over there,” she cast an airy wave in the general direction.

  The giggly, busty beauties at Fernando Ramsey’s table had grown consistently louder. The waiter had no confusion as to whom County was referring and nodded.

  “This can’t be Contessa Warren all by herself on New Year’s Eve?”

  County rolled her eyes when she heard the question voiced just a few seconds following the waiter’s departure. Forcing a smile, she looked up to see two more male acquaintances who had been successful in sniffing her out.

  “It’s me,” she sang, clasping her hands together as Gayle Hubbard and Cory Preston joined her.

  “All alone?” Cory asked, sounding as though he couldn’t believe it.

  County folded her arms across the sequined square bodice of the pink silk and chiffon spaghetti strapped tunic she wore. “Believe it Cory and I’d like to keep it that way,” she shared pointedly.

  “Ouch,” Gayle bristled as though her words had cut deep. “Baby don’t start the year off this way. You’re much too fine to be all alone on a night like this.”

  “Mmm, I know,” County sighed, shaking her head when the two men chuckled. They launched a debate on which one of them was more worthy of her company for the remainder of the evening. Meanwhile, Contessa’s attention and gaze returned to Fernando’s table in time to see the waiter arriving there with the champagne.

  Confusion registered on Fernando’s handsome face, as the waiter motioned toward County’s table. Fernando’s gaze narrowed as he sought to get a better look at the woman with the two men across the room. He took in her honey toned skin bared by the elegant style of her outfit, the chic boyish cut she now sported and realization rushed forth.

  Clearly, Fernando’s two companions didn’t care who sent the additional refreshment. They began to wiggle in their seats, clinking their glasses in anticipation of the bubbly delight.

  At her table, Contessa reached for her handbag and the stylish peony burlap long coat. “‘Scuse me, fellas,” she said amidst Gayle’s and Cory’s incessant discussion. Her thoughts wholly focused on the devastating Ramsey across the room, she took a stroll to the bar, knowing he’d be by her side soon enough.

  ~~~

  “When a man buys a woman a drink, it’s usually because he’d like to join her. Does that hold true for women as well?”

  County smiled at his question, feeling her flesh riddle with goose bumps in reaction to the warm depth of his voice. She turned, tilting her head back to study him as his eyes caressed her face before moving on to the generous swell of her bosom.

  County followed the line of his gaze and then looked up and nodded toward the two women he’d been with. “I thought your dates could use a bit more,” she said.

  Fernando responded with a slow nod and smile. “So you did it just for them?”

  “And you too,” County quickly added, her expression turning wicked. “I’m sure you want to keep them happy.”

  “And why is that?”

  Again, County cast another suggestive look across the room. “Oh, I’d say you’re gonna have the time of your life tonight.”

  “I’m beginning to think so too,” Fernando agreed, still focused completely on her.

  County tilted back her head, not pretending to misread him in the least. “What about your dates?”

  “That was business, not pleasure.”

  “And what am I?”

  “Definitely not business.”

  County pushed one hand inside the pocket of her black moleskin trousers. “So you think I’m that sort of girl?” she asked in a challenging tone. “To go home with a man I hardly know?”

  Fernando drew closer, practically shielding County’s view of the room with his massive build. She studied the breadth of his shoulders beneath the gorgeous fabric of his navy wool boucle textured suit coat and wondered if all that size really belonged to him.

  “We can talk all night, but in the morning you’re mine,” he spoke just loudly enough for her to hear.

  Contessa shut out the voice that sang, “danger, danger,” and cleared her throat softly. “Does that line usually work?”

  Fernando grinned, leaning closer still to retrieve her coat from the bar. “I’ve never used it before,” he admitted, “I suppose we’ll find out in the morning.”

  County prayed he couldn’t hear her breathing and told the singing voice inside her head to shut up. She let him help her into her coat, then curved her fingers into the crook of the arm he offered. She prayed again that he didn’t hear the low moan she uttered at the feel of the rock solid bicep that flexed ever so gently. Hell, it’s New Year’s, she reasoned.

  Together, they left the yacht.

  ~~~

  One week later…

  “I know Jay pulled out all the stops,” Mick guessed when she and County spoke by phone one January afternoon.

  “He did at that.”

  Contessa’s unenthusiastic response earned a raised eyebrow from Mick. Her curiosity roused and then her suspicion.

  “It was a party on a boat and not a very good one,” County remarked when Mick remained silent. “Jay’s losing his touch,” she added hastily in reference to their friend James Aston. “I left before the balloons fell,” she saw fit to share.

  Mick got more comfortable in the lounge she occupied and smiled at County’s rambling- very uncharacteristic. “Mmm, you say you left before the balloons fell, eh? Alone?”

  “Dammit, now what’s that supposed to mean?” County snapped.

  Mick let the silence carry the conversation for almost twenty seconds. “Jeez, it’s me who’s pregnant. I thought I was supposed to be the touchy one.”

  “I’m not touchy.”

  “I disagree. Your New Year’s must’ve been a bust.”

  “Hell Mick, what’s your hang-up with New Year’s all of a sudden?”

  “It is usual conversation for supposed friends who haven’t talked since before the holidays,” Mick retorted, her own temper beginning to simmer.

  “The holidays,” County sniffed indignantly. “Holiday’s are for families. You have Quest and-”

  “You’re still my family,” Mick shook her head when she heard County sigh over the line. “I’m surprised to be doing all of the talking anyway. You usually have my head spinning with one of your scandalous tales of an all night romp with one of your-”

  “Damn, you must really think I’m a slut,” County hissed, massaging the tension that had suddenly formed in her neck.

  Mick was unsettled, having heard the subtle change in her friend’s voice. Again, she let silence take control. “I’m sorry, Count. I’m truly sorry,” she swore.

  County rolled her eyes, knowing the last thing she wanted to do was upset her pregnant friend. “Listen,” it’s just business aggravations and I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Mick didn’t believe for a second that business woes were at the root of County’s mood.

  “Nooo, I don’t want to talk about it. It’s petty.”

  “And I’m worried about you.”

  “Aw Mick, come on. You know how we do. Don’t start getting sappy on me now. You always tease me and I love it.”

  “Yeah, but there comes a time when a joke isn’t funny anymore and I am sorry.”

  “Accepted,” County replied, praying that was the end of it. “It’s alright, Mick. I’m good.”

  Far from convinced, Mick decided to stop pressing. “Just come to me if you need to.”

  “I promise,” County crossed her fingers as she uttered the lie.

  “Now, about my baby shower.” Mick switched conversations and sat a little straighter on the lounge.

  “You’re scandalous,” County criticized. “Planning your own damn shower. Other people are supposed to do that for you, you know?�
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  Mick rolled her eyes. “Please, I want this one my way since this will be my only child and therefore my only shower.”

  “Your only child?” County parrotted, more than a little stunned. “Does Quest know this?”

  “Please County,” Mick’s tone was solemn. “You know I’ll be lucky to even do a halfway decent job with this baby. I don’t think it’d be wise to test the waters more than once, you know?”

  “Michaela, please don’t make a decision like this based on your own childhood.”

  Mick couldn’t manage a response.

  “So when is this shower?” County hoped to lighten the mood by asking.

  “March, if I can move by then,” Mick said, curls falling across her eyes when she looked down at her ever-increasing tummy. “I’ll be six months by then.”

  “Ha! Six months and the size of a baby whale.” County teased.

  “Anyway, just make sure your butt is out here two weeks early. I wanna spend some time with you. Just us.”

  “Aw Mick, girl, do you really need me out there that long?” County whined.

  “Please,” Mick groaned. “You have a million-dollar, independent publishing house that practically runs itself, so don’t even try it. Besides, I miss you.”

  County raked her fingers across her short cut and smiled. “I miss you too.”

  “So?”

  “So I’ll be in Seattle two weeks early.”

  “Good. Now I’m hanging up before you find another reason to back out. I love you.”

  “Love you too,” County returned, sending Mick a kiss through the receiver before clicking off the phone.

  Leaning back in the vanilla suede chair behind her glass desk, she closed her eyes and tried to block out how much she really missed her dear friend. I could really use your advice now, Mick, she admitted silently. Alas, Mick was finally happy with a man who cherished her. Now they were going to have a child together. The last thing County wanted was to give her worries. Besides, County was sure that what she was going through was only a phase. She’d be thirty-four next year and it was just the chiming of her biological clock. Yeah, that had to be it.

  Moderately satisfied by the assumption, County sighed and nodded. Tugging on the cuffs of her gray tweed suit coat, she sat straight and prepared to tackle another day’s chores at the office. She was settling in to read another proposal from the conglomerate that had been salivating to buy her publishing house, when a knock sounded on her office door.

  “Hey,” County watched her head editor Spivey Freeman and Jenean Rays; head of the fact checking department, arrive with serious expressions.

  Groaning, County let her head fall back against her chair. “Not now guys,” she knew what they wanted to discuss: the unfinished Ramsey novel.

  “County we’ve been more than patient,” Spivey’s high brow was rippling with frown lines.

  “Spivey’s right County, you’ve gotta make a decision sometime.” Jeanean added.

  “We’ve been damned lucky someone else hasn’t already jumped on this thing,” Spivey cited.

  “You’re right,” County was surprised as well that a Ramsey novel hadn’t already beat the Contessa House version to the shelves. Spivey made a valid point and even she couldn’t deny the novel would be more engrossing in light of the fact that the killer had been caught-more or less.

  Spivey and Jenean watched their boss expectantly, waiting on some tilt of her head or wave of her hand to signify the go-ahead.

  “What about the rest of the family?” County asked, idly studying the spiked heel of one of the black leather boots she wore. “There’s more to the Ramseys’ story than what happened to Sera Black,” she reminded them.

  In response, Spivey hefted the three accordion folders he’d brought into the office. The folders teemed with so much information they had to be secured with several fat rubber bands.

  “All the data collected on every member of the Ramseys,” Spivey announced.

  “Every member?” County asked, her thoughts turning immediately to Fernando Ramsey.

  “Even though formal charges have never been filed, there are some pretty brow raising facts in that mountain of stuff,” Jenean shared, entwining a heavy braid between her fingers. “We’ve got the makings of one hell of a book,” she predicted.

  “Maybe two even,” Spivey mused.

  “Is the research complete?” County inquired, rearing back in her chair while considering their news. “Are we really ready to go forward with this? Do you guys have an author in mind to work on the draft, or at the very least an outline?”

  “There’s still work to be done,” Spivey admitted, exchanging a glance with Jenean.

  “There’re a lot of Ramseys. All of them with interesting backgrounds,” Jenean cautioned.

  County agreed. “So how long would it take to complete the research if I give the go-ahead to continue? Well?” She prompted, when the two remained silent.

  “That’s hard to pinpoint, County,” Spivey shrugged. “We’re successful, but we’re still a small house. It’d take the efforts of almost everyone on staff to wade through the information we do have.”

  “But the rewards of such hard work would be astronomical.” Jenean guaranteed.

  County knew it was true. In spite of the house being such a financial success, it still lacked name recognition. She wanted Contessa House to be on the lips of the most discerning personalities in the literary world. After all, her business was all she had. Her resolve in place, County stood and fixed Spivey and Jenean with challenging looks. “Alright, get on it. Get on it. Get everyone you can spare on it and we’ll talk again next week.”

  Spivey and Jenean almost tripped over themselves when the decision reached their ears. They rambled non stop on their way out the door. Alone in her office again, County hugged herself and then turned to judge the view of downtown from her tenth story window.

  Chicago in winter was no joke. The wind whipped without mercy. Snow blanketed the streets and then revisited with even more of its icy white for days to come. County shook her head, watching a crew of city workers preparing for that weekend’s expected storm. The group set up sturdy ropes along the sidewalks to assist pedestrians who had to travel the treacherous area by foot.

  “Dammit,” County hissed, suddenly remembering the lunch appointment she was about to be late for. Glancing repeatedly at her watch, she grabbed a heavy black double breasted trench from the sofa and raced out the office.

  ~~~

  Marvin’s was a high profile neighborhood club located a few blocks from Contessa House. County had received her weekly call from Dark Squires Enterprises requesting another meeting. The two men she usually met with were so kind and persuasive, County often hated turning them down. Still, they tried.

  Unfortunately, for the Dark Squires partners, today she was in no mood to coddle men no matter how sweet and charming they were. It was freezing, she was aggravated and she was starving.

  “This is what makes working here worth all the headache.”

  County forgot her frustration the moment she stepped past the restaurant’s double maple doors. The proprietor’s nephews Sam and Charles, greeted her with their usual tease.

  “The two of you say that to all us old ladies,” County voiced her usual reply and accepted her hug and kiss on the cheek from the tall, nineteen year old brothers who worked their uncle’s shop during their college breaks. “Isn’t it a bit late, though?” she inquired, once Charles released her. “Shouldn’t you guys be back at school?”

  Sam’s and Charles’s expressions mirrored unease. “Uncle Les is pretty bad, so we’re overseeing things until he’s better,” Charles said.

  As Lester Marvin was a staple in the area, the news of his lingering illness hit County deeply. She could tell from the looks on the boys’ faces that the man’s recovery was not expected.

  “We’re gonna transfer our credits to finish school instead of going back to D.C.,” Sam explained.

/>   “I’ll be sure to visit Mr. Les this weekend,” County promised. “I want you two to call if you need anything, alright?” She waited for their nods. Standing on her toes, she favored them both with a sweet kiss to the jaw.

  The handsome teens escorted Contessa to the table where her lunch companions waited. Meanwhile, Fernando Ramsey followed her movement across the dining room. He was mildly surprised to feel his hand curve into a fist as he watched the tender moment she shared with her escorts. Young-too young, he decided, as a smirk curved his mouth. Of course, he realized women who looked like Contessa Warren had their pick of anyone at anytime.

  It was more than looks with her though, he acknowledged, and watched as she took her place at the table. The woman exuded something- a silken tether that beckoned a man to simply reach out and take hold to the promise of supreme pleasure that waited with her.

  Come off it, Fern, he told himself. She was just a woman. More than a woman, something forced him to admit. Fernando leaned back against the booth he occupied. He shook his head as his thoughts took him back to New Year’s Eve. Regardless of how impromptu that night or the day after had been, something had happened. She’d done something-affected some part of his psyche.

  Taking great pleasure in the arms of a woman was about as natural for him as breathing. The next day, the event was a distant memory as was the woman. But not with Contessa. She matched him sexually yes- oh, hell yes. But her wit and verbal banter seemed to arouse him just as easily. Sure she’d probably slap his face if he told her he’d very much like to see her and sleep with her again. In spite of her allure and confidence, he got the impression one-night stands weren’t the norm for her. Besides, after their seventh round of lovemaking on New Year’s Day, she as much as told him it would never happen again. She seemed to hate saying it as much as he’d hated hearing it.

  Fernando was willing to bet good money that Contessa Warren wasn’t a woman who reversed her decisions once they were made. Damn.