With hardly a glance at the board, Carlton reached over and made his own move. “Check.”
Jaxon clamped his jaw tight and started to grind his back molars. How in the hell did he miss that move?
“Okay,” Carlton said, staring at Jaxon from across the table. “Mind if I ask why you would fake an engagement—or is that sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong again?”
The conversation was quickly becoming an unwanted distraction. As usual Jaxon tried to concentrate 200 percent on beating his grandfather—a feat that he had never managed to accomplish. Hell, at this point in his life, he would be happy to just achieve a stalemate compared to the all-out ass-whooping Carlton usually gave him on the board.
“Jaxon?” Carlton probed.
“Um? Oh, it was just a practical joke that got out of hand,” he admitted without pulling his gaze from the board. “I know I was wrong and I’m sorry for not coming clean sooner.”
Carlton was quiet for a long time. But long stretches of silence weren’t uncommon between them so Jaxon continued to contemplate his next move.
“Son,” he started.
Jaxon’s gaze shot up. “I’ve asked you not to call me that.” As intended, Carlton appeared rebuffed by Jaxon’s tone. In the next second, Jaxon regretted snapping.
Carlton tried again. “I just find it a little disappointing that you felt that you needed to go to such extremes to…”
“To what?” Jaxon challenged. “To get both of you off my back?”
“We weren’t trying to—”
“Please.” Jaxon pushed away from the table and stood. “Let’s not kid each other. Nothing I do is ever good enough in this family.”
“What—you need a constant pat on the back?” Carlton thundered. His blue eyes were bright with disappointment. “It’s not my job to stand here and coddle you. I did all I could to toughen you up—prepare you for the sharks.”
“Coddle? What the hell are you talking about?” Jaxon felt hot around the collar. “I’m a success, Carlton. And we could have a fierce debate over whether it was because of you or in spite of you. But let’s make one thing clear, I never looked to you to coddle me. I’ll be damned if I’ll make the same mistake my father did.”
His grandfather turned beet-red. “Do not bring Junior into this. This is not about him.”
Jaxon laughed. “Riiight. Let me tell you something. It has always been about him between me and you. You don’t think I know that you look at me and see him? You don’t think I know that you spent years trying to change the things in me that you hated about him?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he huffed, but his gaze darted around the room like a lost beacon.
“Admit it. Please. You never wanted me here. You took me in out of obligation, but you never wanted me.”
“That’s not true.”
Jaxon waited for his grandfather’s gaze, but clearly he was waiting in vain. “It is true. I could respect you more if you could just admit it.” He glanced back down at the board and saw clearly the next move his grandfather was about to take. “Go ahead.”
Carlton pretended like he didn’t hear him.
“Do it.”
“Forget it.” He gave a careless wave toward the board as if the game suddenly didn’t matter. “We can just play another time.”
“What? Now you want to coddle me?”
Bullied into finishing the game, Carlton reached across the board and made his last move. “Checkmate.”
Without another word, Jaxon grabbed his suit jacket and strolled out of his grandfather’s office.
Richard Myers hadn’t stopped thinking about Zora Campbell since the night he had met her, but a man’s patience could only go so far. By now, he must’ve sent over a whole floral shop and still he hadn’t heard a single word from her. However, he had no problems believing that Jaxon was also making his moves and probably getting much further with the curvy sexpot than Richard was at the moment. In fact, half of New York knew it if Page Six was to be believed. Eyewitness accounts, including one cab driver, leaked to the paper that Zora and Jaxon were seen in some sort of lovers’ spat. And today the grapevine was buzzing about how Jaxon’s engagement to adult entertainer Kitty Ervin was just a hoax. It figured. Something about that whole thing hadn’t smelled right with him from the beginning.
Richard tossed the morning edition of the New York Post on a chair, but a few seconds later, his gaze snagged back on Zora’s picture in the upper right-hand corner. It was actually something that he had been doing a lot lately. Not to the point that he was obsessed, but enough to know that he was in danger of falling head over heels.
He couldn’t help it—especially since knowing that she was even more beautiful in person. And the idea that he could possibly lose out to Jaxon Landon again didn’t sit too well. Somehow, someway, he needed to make sure that didn’t happen.
Zora was surprised when Vogue came calling. Then she was pleased and flattered that they wanted to include her in a special edition cover—that included her and seven other supermodels from various decades. Of course more models meant more drama. To make sure that she kept her drama to a minimum, Zora made sure she was extra early to the photo shoot, kept her mouth shut and put a smile on her face.
Despite all of that, drama found her anyway.
“So what’s this I hear about you and the so-called Prince of Wall Street?” the shoot’s makeup artist asked before even introducing himself. “Are you guys really an item or what?”
Excuse you? “Now, you know better than that,” she chided gently. “You really shouldn’t believe everything you read in the papers.”
“Chile, there’s more truth in that trash than most people are willing to admit,” he said, practically attacking her with a Kabuki powder brush. “’Course, a lot of us was just surprised to see your name printed in the gossip pages. Usually you keep your business out of the headlights. So y’all must have really caused a scene.”
Zora kept her smile leveled at the appropriate angle and didn’t say another word until Keira Lee, famous from fashion’s heroin-chic phase, plopped down in the chair beside her. In the fifteen years since she was at her peak, Keira looked as if she may have put on a whole whopping two pounds.
“Is there anything I can get you to drink, Ms. Lee?” an anxiety-riddled intern asked, rushing to her side.
“Water—and can you get me a couple of carrots from the buffet table? I’m famished.”
“Right away,” he said and then rushed off.
Keira’s bored gaze finally landed on Zora. “Well, I’ll be damned. If it isn’t the world’s number one Ebony Princess,” she said in an exaggerated British accent.
Zora grimaced at the label Europeans had given her. “How are you, Keira?”
“High,” she said matter-of-factly. “Either that or hungover.”
“Still a party girl, I see.”
“It passes the time. A chick gotta do something when she hits thirty and is considered over-the-hill in this industry.” She accepted her bottled water and two carrots from the intern before her own makeup artist magically appeared at her side.
The comment was a bit of an exaggeration, but Zora understood what she meant. The modeling industry was fast, ruthless and short. Those that didn’t educate themselves about their money and investments were just S.O.L. and usually ended up on reality rehab shows.
Keira had her own stint two years ago and clearly it hadn’t worked.
As the morning went on and the other models showed up on set—most of them late as hell and costing the magazine a fortune, Zora began to relax. After all, she was in her element. She had never had a problem relating or, as some critics praised, making love to the camera.
“That’s it, Zora,” Erik Peterson, the magazine’s photographer directed. “Beautiful! Beautiful!”
After completing one roll of film, she was sent back to wardrobe for a quick change, but the minute she made it over to the long racks of clothes, she was in for
a surprise.
“Richard.” She blinked and then looked around. “What are you doing here?”
His smile ballooned. “I’m here to see you.” He offered up a single rose. “And to try one last time to ask you out.”
Zora accepted the single rose and was just on the verge of declining his offer when she stopped herself. What the hell?
Chapter 12
Charity is big business in New York City. And tonight’s annual gala for the Elton John AIDS Foundation brought out all the who’s who. It wasn’t the typical affair for a first date, but Zora was humbled and honored to attend on Richard’s arm. And why not—the man hadn’t done anything wrong. In fact, he had been nothing but a charming gentleman from the moment she’d met him.
She was the one who was tripping. All because Jaxon was a witness to the most embarrassing night of her life—well, the second most embarrassing night of her life. Plus, she wanted to put on a good face for the gossips at the New York Post. History proved that hiding from scandal only gave rumormongers license to escalate their outrageous charges. Hell, even Todd kept calling, hoping to spin some great yarn about her dating Wall Street royalty. To him and his kind there was no such thing as bad publicity.
The fundraiser was being held at Cipriani’s and the event included the requisite red carpet and paparazzi. Richard, once again, was dressed to the nines in an impeccably clean, black Armani suit. When Zora had answered the door, she was struck by how easily he could’ve made a living in the modeling world himself—well, him and Jaxon.
Definitely Jaxon.
Stop it. Stop it. Don’t go there. But hell, she’d been telling herself that for the past week. All her mental chastising seemed to do was make her think about Jaxon even more—especially the way he stole all the oxygen in a room, and the way she couldn’t think clearly whenever he was around and how amazing his hand felt caressing the base of her clit in the back of that restaurant.
Zora quivered from the memory.
“Are you cold?” Richard asked, as they inched their way down the red carpet among flashing white lights.
“No. No. I’m good.” She reassured him with a bright smile and then continued to pose for pictures in a stunning red silk taffeta gown. Truth be told, she was pleased that the dress was available on such short notice, but her friendship with the designer pulled off a miracle.
“Who are you wearing, Ms. Campbell?” several reporters shouted at the same time.
“John Galliano,” she responded and then gave everyone a back view.
More flashing lights and then, “Who are you with this evening?” one bold photograph asked.
Zora quickly returned to her date’s side. “Richard Myers,” she answered in her best bubbly voice.
“Is he your new boyfriend?” another shouted.
“Now. Now.” She waved a finger at the press pool. “You guys know better than that.”
“What about Jaxon Landon—the Prince of Wall Street? Are you two still together?”
Zora felt Richard’s arm stiffen beneath hers. “Mr. Landon and I were never an item.” She didn’t know whether anyone bought it, but it was the answer she’d practiced in front of the mirror for two hours.
“What about the rumors that—”
Zora didn’t get to hear the rest of the question because Richard directed her down the rest of the carpet like the damn thing suddenly caught fire. She didn’t take it too personally. It couldn’t be easy to stand there like a bump on a log while your date was being quizzed about some other man.
Walking into the building with its multicolumned exterior was like walking into a huge mausoleum with its opulent decor and sexy, dimly lit interior. Also upon entering, she and Richard were immediately enveloped by a throng of smiling and chatting people. Small talk was an art form among the rich. You smile a little, gush how fabulous everyone looks and then brag about some expensive piece of jewelry or exotic vacation you just took. You never ever talked about politics, books or money.
Money was implied.
“Looks like it’s going to be a full house,” Zora joked to Richard once they’d broken away from one laughing crowd.
However, Richard still looked peeved about what had happened on the red carpet and was slow to return the smile. Was he going to be like this for the rest of the night?
“Ah, Richard, you came.” A boisterous older man with a mane of silvery hair and an outstretched hand greeted them.
“Mr. Colbert.” Richard finally snapped out of his funk to shake hands with the man. “You know I make it here every year. I think what this foundation has managed to accomplish over the years is just extraordinary.” Then he stopped as if remembering something. “You had a personal tragedy involving this cause, didn’t you?”
Colbert nodded his head. “Yes, yes. Sadly, I lost my nephew to this awful disease. I have to tell you, it’s very disappointing that with all our scientific advancements we haven’t been able to find a cure.”
“One day we will, sir. One day we will.”
After a beat of silence, Colbert’s sharp gray eyes darted in Zora’s direction. “I see that your taste in women has improved.” Laughing, he reached for her hand.
Richard turned toward her, his easy smile and charm fully restored. “Mr. Colbert, may I introduce you to the lovely Zora Campbell. Zora, Keith Colbert, the president of Epicon. My firm has been trying to convince this man to let us manage his portfolio for the past three years. He’s as slippery as they come.”
“What can I say, kid? There are a lot of offers on the table—most of them promising the world when all I want is the moon.” He winked and then laughed at his own joke.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Zora said.
“The pleasure is all mine.” Colbert bent over at the waist in a dramatic gesture and planted a kiss on the back of her hand. “I have to tell you that I’m a great admirer of your work.”
“Thank you.” Such gallantry won him another favorable smile from Zora.
“Colbert, old man!” someone shouted.
Zora turned in time to see another Armani-clad gentleman, waving frantically in the crowd.
“Ah, my grandson.” Colbert laughed and gave a casual nod. “It was good, catching up with you, Myers. We ought to do it again sometime.” He started to walk off, but Richard held up an index finger to ask for another minute.
“Actually, my secretary called your office today to see if I could get on your schedule. I’ve finally worked out a package I think you might like.”
Colbert huffed out his chest and shook his head. “I gotta be honest with you, Richard. I’m sort of leaning to signing up with Jaxon Landon.”
Richard tensed again.
“What can I tell you, kid? The man has the Midas touch. Everyone wants to work with the Prince of Wall Street, right?” He laughed again and gave Richard a hearty pat on the shoulder. “I’m sure you understand. It’s just business, kid.”
Richard didn’t answer. However, when Colbert tried to sidestep him, Richard blocked his exit. “I…think maybe there’s something I need to be brought to your attention.”
“Oh?” His smiling face turned somber. “Sounds serious.”
Zora agreed but she didn’t have any idea what was going on, but she could definitely tell Richard was angry. He had two protruding veins along his right temple that seemed ready to pop at any moment.
Richard started to say something else when his gaze snagged on someone across the room.
Zora and Colbert turned and tried to see who had grabbed his attention. Colbert may have been lost, but Zora’s gaze had no trouble zeroing in on the towering Jaxon Landon. Instantly her body reacted. Parts of her grew warm, parts of her grew wet and the rest quivered with longing. Had he grown taller in the week since she’d last seen him—more buffed—and if possible, more handsome?
The vivid memory of his lips pressed against hers and his seductive scent enfolding her caused Zora’s heart to race. Regret washed over her like a tsunami. Ther
e were at least a hundred ways she could’ve handled their last encounter better. Any of them would have been better than her running out of a crowded restaurant like she had a serial rapist on her heels.
“It is serious,” Richard finally said. “You should talk to me before you finalize anything with Jaxon Landon.”
Zora frowned and returned her attention back to Richard. She didn’t like the tone of his voice. And there was something about the way he was staring at Jaxon that chilled Zora’s blood.
“All right then,” Colbert said soberly. “I’ll make sure I get you worked into the schedule. Have your secretary call again.”
Richard smiled, but it was a tight one that looked as if it hurt to produce. “Thank you, sir.”
Free to leave, Colbert trickled back into the crowd, his recognizable laugh boomed from the next circle of friends.
“How about something to drink?” Richard asked and then waved a waiter over. “I know I can definitely use one.”
Seconds later, she was handed a flute of pink champagne and before she could bring the glass to her lips, Richard had drained his empty in one gulp. “Sooo. I take it that you and Jaxon don’t exactly get along,” she chanced saying.
Richard looked at her, hesitated. “Is that a question or a statement?”
“Maybe it’s both.”
He laughed. “It’s complicated.”
“Maybe you can simplify it for me?” she pressed.
He hesitated again. “I can’t stand the smug sonofabitch,” he said, leveling a hard stare. “For as long as I can remember, he’s been a thorn in my side. First in school, when everyone thought he could do no wrong, to now when businessmen and colleagues call me kid and him the Prince of Wall Street.”
“So you’re…”
“What? Jealous?” he asked with a sinister smile. “Hardly. I’m competitive and determined. Just because I’m not among the flock that thinks the sun rises and sets on his ass doesn’t mean I’m jealous. I just happen to see the devil through his sheep’s clothing.”
Zora blinked at him, mainly because she couldn’t think of anything to say. His explanation didn’t have any specifics and the hate radiating off him at the time wasn’t like anything she’d ever witnessed before. True, she had her own haters—people targeting her because she was at one time at the top of the industry. She had always dismissed it as just being part of the game. But she had never seen hatred such as this up close and personal.
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