Heart's Secret

by Adrianne Byrd

  Zora accepted the card while Melanie sat back with an I-told-you-so expression. “That doesn’t count,” Zora said. “Fans do things like that all the time. It’s flattering but—” she shrugged “—they’re more in love with an image. You know. You’ve been there.”

  Melanie had indeed been there. In her early twenties, she, too, had been on the fast track in the high-fashion world of modeling. In fact, she and Zora met and were roommates in a Manhattan apartment building that housed young models back in the day. Within minutes of meeting, the two women fell into an easy friendship that lasted over the years.

  “Then in that case,” Melanie continued, “you should trust me to find you someone that won’t be intimidated by your money or fame.”

  “I don’t know. This whole thing still has a pimpish feel to it.”

  Melanie rolled her eyes. This isn’t gonna be easy.

  The waiter poured the ladies two new glasses of wine and instructed them to “Enjoy.”

  They both flashed him a brief butterfly smile and then fell silent as Zora read and then reread the business card. Either she was contemplating calling the brotha or tossing the card like she normally did.

  “Soooo.” Melanie picked up her fork and stabbed a few vegetables in her salad. “Are you going to call him?”

  “Yes,” Zora decided, but then countered. “Maybe.” She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “See?” Melanie dropped her fork and shook her head. “Why do you do that? You always shut the door on opportunity.”

  “Please don’t lecture. I didn’t bring my bottle of Excedrin.”

  Melanie kept charging ahead. “A career is great, Zora. But it won’t warm your bed at night.”

  Zora laughed. “You’re a fine one to talk.” She reached across the table and grabbed Melanie’s right hand. “I don’t see a ring on your finger, Ms. Millionaire Matchmaker. Don’t you think you’re being just a little hypocritical?”

  “We’re not talking about me,” Melanie said, a bit more testily than she liked.

  “Maybe we should talk about you.” Zora wasn’t going to relent now that she had an opening to get her dear, but nosy and pushy, friend off her back. “I mean…shouldn’t you lead by example?”

  “Hold up. That’s not fair. I’m a widow,” Melanie countered. “Or have you forgotten that?”

  “Of course I haven’t forgotten.” Zora released her hand, but then chose her next words carefully and softly. “But Steven has been gone for quite a while.”

  Melanie reached for her wine. “It doesn’t feel like it was all that long ago.”

  “I’m sorry,” Zora said contritely. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

  Melanie drew a deep breath and tried to force the memories back where they belonged—in the past. She needed to focus on the matter at hand and that was pulling off the miracle of getting Zora Campbell and Jaxon Landon together. For now she would have to chalk this day up as a loss. She had lost control of the conversation and she would have to approach the subject another time and in another way. But no worries. Melanie wasn’t the type to give up so easily.

  “So I hear you’re getting married,” Dale Forrester yelled above the Velvet Rope’s pulsing hip-hop bass before he invited himself to plop down at Jaxon’s private booth with his usual double Scotch sloshing in his left hand. “When I heard, I couldn’t fuckin’ believe it so I figured that I would come and get it straight from the horse’s mouth.”

  Relaxed and dressed head to toe in casual, black Valentino, Jaxon favored his old friend and mentor with a lopsided grin. “Do you come bearing gifts?”

  “Hell, no,” he half slurred. “I came to beat some sense into you.” Lately Dale’s face seemed to be permanently flushed a deep burgundy. Either it was way too much booze or rising cholesterol. Jaxon didn’t know which, so he constantly hounded his friend about both.

  Each time, Dale just waved off any and all health concerns. He didn’t like being preached to and only mildly tolerated it from Jaxon.

  “Please tell me that it’s nothing but a nasty rumor and then maybe I can get back to living my life vicariously through you—such as it was.” He turned up his drink and drained the contents in one long gulp.

  Amused, Jaxon took a swig of his own whiskey sour and cast a lazy glance toward the exotic dancer working the pole. She wore a bit too much makeup, but he could tell that she at least had some formal dance training.

  “So what’s the story?” Dale asked, pulling Jaxon’s attention back from the stage. “Are you walking the single’s man plank or what?”

  Jaxon considered toying with the man, but there was such a desperate hope twinkling in his eyes that he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. “Chill, old man. I’m not engaged.”

  A broad, goofy grin broke across Dale’s face. “Sweetheart,” he yelled out to a passing waitress and held up his empty glass. “Another round. Happy days are here again.”

  Jaxon laughed. It was what he did whenever he and Dale partied together. For all the man’s talk of idolizing Jaxon and his Midas touch when it came to business, Jaxon knew it was more because Dale remembered a time when he was hailed as the Prince of Wall Street. Unfortunately, his reign was shorter than he’d liked and it all ended with him serving some jail time. For the most part, the friends avoided both subjects. However, Jaxon was determined to learn from his friend’s mistakes and he made sure that all his dealings were aboveboard.

  Given all the temptations of Wall Street, it was harder than it sounded.

  “I shoulda known to have more faith in you.” Dale winked, plopping a fat ice cube into his mouth and then chomping away as if he was munching on a handful of M&M’s. “Take it from me, marriage is highly overrated and expensive to boot.”

  “Better not let Mrs. Forrester hear you talking like that.”

  “Trust me. I’m not telling you nothing she doesn’t know or hear from me on a regular basis. Destiny married me for my money and she’ll divorce me for my money one of these days. That or she’ll kill me for it.”

  “You poor, miserable soul.” Jaxon chuckled, and then cast another fleeting glance toward the stage in time to see Gemini do a classic V swing, stand, drop it real low and back her luscious behind toward the crowd of panting customers. Benjamins rained down onto the stage and Gemini continued working her hips like the rent was due in the morning.

  “God bless her,” Dale muttered under his breath and then wiped the side of his mouth for a drool check. “I swear that girl makes me want to put her momma on my Christmas list.”

  Jaxon suppressed a grin with another gulp of whiskey. He smiled when he finally felt his afternoon buzz kick in. In fact, all that was missing was a fat Cuban cigar and busty temptress to end another trying day.

  “Your drinks, gentlemen.” Honey flashed them each a radiant smile and then set their new drinks on the table before them.

  Jaxon and Dale took the opportunity to appreciate their favorite waitress’s large glitter-dusted breasts and caramel-capped nipples.

  “Can I get you two anything else?” she asked, centering her twinkling gaze on Jaxon. “Anything at all?”

  The corners of Jaxon’s lips curved upward. “I think we’re good.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Dale countered gruffly and then smacked a crisp hundred-dollar bill on top of the table. “Junior and I are in the mood for a lap dance.”

  Jaxon didn’t correct him because everyone—or rather all the regulars—knew Dale referred to his small dick as Junior. There was never any shame to his game, either. He laughed at small dick jokes and would crack a few himself. If there was any time that Jaxon grew uncomfortable with his friend’s self-deprecating humor, it was when Dale kept talking about his dick as if it was a separate entity. Dale was always going with, “Junior was looking for a nice warm place to sleep for the night” or “Junior was just standing up to say hello” or “Junior and I was talking last night.”

  Jaxon used to find Dale and Junior’s stories hilar
ious. Now, since a night didn’t pass without Junior being mentioned, Jaxon worried whether Dale and Junior were getting a little too close. (If that made any sense.)

  Despite the fact that Honey was supposed to be waitressing, she set her small tray down and instantly started rocking and swinging her hips in perfect time to Beyoncé’s latest jam. One of Dale’s silly grins slid into place as he watched the up close and personal action prance in front of him, tempting and seducing him to reach for his wallet again.

  Jaxon split his attention between Gemini and Honey and realized that he held their attention, as well. Gemini took a deep bend at the waist, wiggled her gorgeous brown behind and tossed Jaxon a smile. To his right, Honey shimmied her gravity-defying tits in Dale’s face while giving Jaxon the anytime-anyplace look.

  Jaxon smoothly gave both women an appreciative smile that neither encouraged nor discouraged their pursuit. It was a gift. His mother used to brag endlessly about him being a born charmer. He couldn’t remember a time when he didn’t love or more importantly when women didn’t love him. In his adolescent days he played doctor so much it was assumed that he would become one.

  He didn’t, but he still played one from time to time.

  “Well, if it isn’t my lovable fiancé,” Kitty cooed as she sauntered over to the small table. For Honey’s benefit, she lazily but very dramatically draped an arm around Jaxon’s shoulders. “Glad to see that you could make it.”

  “Of course.” Jaxon smiled. “You know I always keep my promises.”

  Kitty’s smile broadened as she eased down onto his lap. “In that case, what do you say to you and me hooking up after the show?”

  “I’d say I love to,” he admitted, running a finger beneath her chin.

  Kitty lit up like a Christmas tree.

  “But—I can’t. I’m flying out of the city tonight right after I watch your set.”

  Caught between disappointment and flattery, Kitty’s smile faltered. There wouldn’t be any point in complaining or pouting. That would be the fastest way to chase Jaxon Landon away. She had been playing her cards right all this time, she wasn’t about to screw it up now.

  “Well, I’m glad you made it tonight.” She caught sight of Bishop nodding his head, signaling for her to get ready for her number. The only problem was that she was all too comfortable leaning against Jaxon’s firm muscled chest. Not only did he feel good, but he smelled divine.

  Jaxon glanced at his Rolex. “Showtime.”

  Reluctantly, Kitty climbed out of his lap but then caught sight of Richard Myers coming in the door. The man was as predictable as the seasons. “Well, it looks like I have another fan tonight.”

  Jaxon followed Kitty’s line of vision and felt his general good mood take a nosedive.

  “Oh, cheer up. You could do with a little competition,” Kitty said and sashayed her way backstage.

  “Yeah. You could do with a little competition.” Dale chuckled under his breath as he slid one last Benjamin between Honey’s string thong at the end of her dance.

  “Thank you, baby.” She blew him an air kiss, but tossed a wink over her shoulder at Jaxon.

  Dale caught the sly move and sighed. “Fifteen hundred dollars down the tube.”

  Jaxon grinned. “I don’t know. It seems like you were enjoying it to me.”

  “My dick is hard if that’s what you mean.” Dale smirked. “But it doesn’t mean that I’m going to get any tonight.”

  “I don’t know.” Jaxon shrugged. “You could always go home and screw your wife for once.”

  Dale laughed. “I might have a pocket full of Viagra, but that doesn’t mean that I’m that desperate.”

  Jaxon’s head rocked back with a rumbling laugh. “You’re a complicated man, Dale. No doubt about that.”

  “Speaking of complicated, when the hell are you going to fill me in on this vicious rumor circulating around town?”

  Jaxon’s smile ballooned. “It’s a long story.”

  “You’re in luck. I like bedtime stories.”

  Jaxon shrugged and leaned forward. “Let’s just say it’s a little joke at my grandfather’s expense. I took Kitty up to my grandparents’ place this weekend. Figured I’d try to get them off my back about settling down by bringing a woman they would never approve of as my fiancée. I never knew a man could turn so many different shades of purple.”

  “Should’ve known.” Dale’s smirk stretched into a callous grin. “I hate to be the one to tell you this, but you and Carlton are two peas in a pod.”

  “Don’t even joke about something like that.”

  “The truth is an inconvenient thing, my brotha. Inconvenient indeed.”

  “Hello, gentlemen,” Richard said after finally making his way over to the table. “Mind if I grab a seat?”

  “Knock yourself out,” Jaxon said, determined to be unfazed by the intrusion.

  But Richard had a sixth sense when he was gettin’ under Jaxon’s skin and he reveled in it as he took his seat.

  As if to spare them from having any further conversation, the club’s music changed and the main attraction got underway. Jaxon gladly turned his attention toward the stage. Kitty stretched out a long, curvy leg from behind a red curtain. Every man in the joint hooted and whistled their approval only for Kitty to pull the leg back as if she was suddenly too shy. The next time there was a little more leg, plus the curve of her hip. A very nice hip at that.

  “The girl is a pro,” Dale praised. “I’m getting so hard, I just might have to go home and screw my wife.”

  Jaxon laughed. “God forbid.”

  “All right, so he’s good-looking,” Zora said, handing back the Forbes magazine, and then surrendering herself to the wonderful massage Alejandro was performing on her back and shoulders. This was day two of Melanie’s relentless campaign.

  “Don’t forget rich,” Melanie reminded her as she too let her eyes drift while a hunky masseur worked knots out of places she had long forgotten existed.

  “C’mon, Mel. You oughta know by now that I’m not impressed by a man’s bank account. The brotha I want in my life has to have a good heart and won’t feel threatened by a strong woman with her own bling. I’m so over men who try to make me feel bad for being independent.”

  Melanie laughed. “Oh, I musta hit the sistagirl nerve. I feel ya.”

  Zora chuckled. “Nah, girl. I’m just keepin’ it real. I get more grief from men about the money I’m pullin’ down than a little bit. The few relationships I have been in all start the same. ‘Baby, you know I looove you,’” she imitated with fake, deep baritone. “‘I don’t care about you making that long money. Just long as you’re bringing all that sweet lovin’ to me.’”

  Melanie cracked up.

  “Don’t act like I’m the only one. You’re not exactly broke, either.”

  One side of Melanie’s lips quirked up. “I realize as successful women, we have a unique set of hurdles to deal with. But we can get over them.”

  Zora peeled open one eye to stare at the friend lying on the massage table next to her. In the brief silence that followed, she thought how hypocritical Melanie was.

  “I’m telling you, Zora. You and Jaxon Landon will hit it off,” Melanie insisted, hammering the wild idea that Zora was the perfect woman to really reel in Jaxon Landon. Of course she was going on nothing more than a hunch, but her hunches had a 95 percent batting average. There was also a lot of luck riding on this, too. Zora was perhaps one of the few women in elite New York circles who hadn’t gotten wind of Jaxon’s reputation.

  And what a reputation it was.

  The women who had been with Jaxon had described him as a certified sex freak and bragged that he had a libido to put the Energizer bunny to shame. He wasn’t opposed to doing it anytime and anyplace. Normally, Melanie wouldn’t take on a client with such a voracious sexual appetite. They were usually too hard, if not impossible, to tame.

  But to Zora, there was just something about Melanie’s instincts that told her she
was on the right track. The two women had met back in Melanie’s brief stint modeling. She had liked Zora instantly. She wasn’t like the other girls in the house where they lived with other models. She had a real brain in her head and it didn’t surprise her in the least at just how fast the world and the fashion industry fell in love with her. It also didn’t surprise her that Zora turned the platform into an enormous business opportunity.

  “Just meet him,” Melanie said, sounding sooo close to begging. “What harm is there in just meeting the man?”

  Zora released a long sigh. Her resistance was starting to wear down.

  “It can be at a party. You come separately and leave separately. We can make it as casual as you want.”

  Another sigh.

  “Trust me.” Melanie made one last desperate plea. “You’ll thank me for it at your wedding.”

  Zora laughed at the unlikely notion.

  “There’s just one thing.”

  “Aha! I knew there was a catch. What is it? He has a tribe of children by half a dozen women?”

  “It’s nothing like that.” Melanie frowned and then pulled herself up into a sitting position while clutching her towel.

  Zora picked up her friend’s hesitation and felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up. “All right. Then what?”

  Melanie shrugged as if to suggest that it really wasn’t such a big deal. “I just need for you not to tell him…you know.”

  Zora signaled for Alejandro to stop rubbing her shoulders. “No. I don’t know. Why don’t you just spit it out?”

  “Let’s just say that Jaxon doesn’t know that I’m setting this…meeting up.”

  Zora closed her eyes to prevent herself from rolling them out the back of her head. “A blind date? You’re trying to set up a blind date?”

  Melanie’s smile returned and grew even wider. “Remember. You’ll thank me on your wedding day.”

  Zora’s eyes rolled again. “Something tells me that I highly doubt that.”