“Come on, Ray. What does ‘he’s Barker Grant’ mean?”
Ray faced her friend then. “It means the man’s got way too much going on to start an involvement like the one you’re speculating over.”
“All right, I’ll give you that, but why do I get the sense that’s not what you really mean?”
“Hell, Clari, give me a break, okay?” Ray resumed her walk around the office. “Respected, award-winning journalist who also happens to be an heir to family wealth that goes back to Civil War times falls in love with an exotic-dancer-turned-dance-studio-manager? Right.”
Clarissa blinked as she heard the pain in the voice of her oldest friend. “I’d say that makes Barker Grant a lucky guy.”
“Don’t patronize me, Clari.”
“I wouldn’t do that and you know it. This is truth.”
“As you see it.”
“And you don’t?”
“I doubt that would matter.”
“To who? Barker? Because it sounds like he feels the same as I do.”
It was Ray’s turn to snort then. “Barker’s respectability would fly right out the window if he started something with me.”
“Because you manage a dance school.” Clarissa made her point drily and overlooked the face Ray made in return. “But technically you’re not a dance-school manager since you haven’t accepted my offer. And you’re no exotic dancer, either. That hasn’t been you since what? Twenty-one, twenty-two? You’re a long way from those days, hon.” She gave her friend a casually measured look.
Again, Ray snorted. “Thanks.”
Clarissa shrugged. “Anytime. You manage a respected club, Ray, and have a respected name of your own. That’s the woman Barker Grant met, the one he started a friendship with—took it to the next level with.”
Ray had no comeback, so Clarissa opted to end her argument there. She stood up, crossed over to Ray and pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry, all right?”
Ray eased back from the embrace. “Sorry?”
“For being so pushy with this. Guess I’m just out of my mind happy, and I want everyone else as happy as I am.”
“I get it, Clari.” Understanding bloomed in Ray’s eyes. “I see how Elias Joss affects you, and I’m pretty sure we’ll be attending yet another wedding sometime soon. I haven’t even unpacked yet because I know we’ll all be heading to sunny skies in the near future.”
Clarissa was already shaking her head. “It’s too soon for that. It’s barely been a year,” she insisted at Ray’s dubious look. “It’s way too soon for us to be talking marriage.”
“Says who?”
“Ray...it’s just not the way things are done.”
“Ah...so there are some absolutes in your happy world?” Ray wagged an index finger. “That means I’m allowed to have at least one. A man like Barker Grant doesn’t throw over his entire life for—” She stopped at Clarissa’s warning look. “For a nightclub manager,” she finished.
Clarissa looked totally flummoxed. “I give up.”
“All I ask.”
“I give up until Barker proves me right.”
Ray rolled her eyes and kept them shut even when Clarissa put a kiss to her cheek.
“Get back to me soon, all right? I need to confirm you as manager...or not.” Clarissa squeezed Ray’s arm, waited for their eyes to meet. “Or not is just fine, too. You know that, right?”
“I know, Clari. It’s just a big step, you know? If I’m gonna do this, I need to be sure I’m doing right by Miss Jaz.”
“I get it.” Clarissa pulled Ray into another hug. “I’ll get out of your hair. Think about what I said about Barker, okay? At least admit to yourself that you deserve happiness same as the rest of us.”
Ray put a kiss to Clarissa’s cheek and forehead. “You don’t have to worry over me like that. I’m not stressing out over some old drama that’s making me feel unworthy, trust me.”
“I know.” Clarissa gave a quick, tight smile but stifled any additional comment.
Ray watched Clarissa leave. Alone then, she made a stab at gathering the papers that had spilled from the folder. Quickly losing interest in the task, she settled to the edge of the desk and hissed a curse.
* * *
“Why now?” Barker was the image of a content soul as he swiveled the chair at the end of the long rectangular conference-room table.
WPXI programming executives Willard Harold and Garrett Cole occupied seats at the other end of the table. Willard Harold began to chortle, which caused his slightly jowled chin to quiver.
“I’ll never figure you out, Grant,” he said. “We’re giving you the keys—”
“Keys you’ve damn well earned, by the way.” Garrett Cole’s blue-gray eyes held their usual chill, but sincerity lurked just the same.
“Right,” Harold confirmed.
“But you want me to stop earning it now, is that right?”
“We want you to take on something more,” Cole argued.
“Finally.” Harold’s jowls shook once more as he pulled a hand through his thinning dark blond hair.
“And what I’ve got here now? What about that?” Barker’s tone was easy, his deep stare unwavering...and aware.
“You’ve been so thorough, the copy could practically write itself.” Cole pointed toward the conference-room door. “With your team on it, putting this thing to bed should be a piece of cake.”
Except it wouldn’t be. Barker knew that and was well aware that his colleagues knew the same. Of course his staff was well-trained—he’d trained them. Still, they had precious little time on the job. They were getting experience and had already cut their teeth on some pretty rigorous features, but they still had no idea how the other side of the game was played.
The office politick back and forth would eat them alive. Barker knew Harold and Cole well enough to see behind the smokescreens. The thing was, they hadn’t made seeing behind it difficult at all. That told Barker they were desperate—so much so, they’d gotten sloppy. It also told him that what he’d uncovered to that point was enough to move forward with the story. He had enough to let the public know properties in the city’s least affluent areas were being bought at five times their worth. He was on the heels of uncovering the who, but he still needed to know the why.
His old colleagues were most likely caught up in their own share of the politick, as well. Chances were high they were being strong-armed to pull out every stop at getting Barker to drop the story. Why? Perhaps what he was on to reached people who would prefer this story go away. If it couldn’t be dropped, it could damn well be buried. Leaving it all in the hands of an eager-to-please crew might be the perfect way to accomplish that.
He hated to conceive that the crew he’d taken under his wing would ever shrug off all they’d learned and allow themselves to be pulled off the hunt of a cover-up. As he looked down the table at the two well-seasoned news vets, however, he knew that pressure—applied just right and by the right entities—could unsteady the most learned and determined.
Regardless of his suspicions, Barker couldn’t totally cast aside Harold and Cole’s offer. The spot on the programming board was one that could’ve been his years ago if he hadn’t been so steeped in the grittier side of his job.
In the ivory tower of the programming boardroom, he could be more certain that the stories needing to be told would be. As one of the powers that be, he’d have the authority to determine what WPXI showed its viewing public. Sadly, he wouldn’t be in as much of a position to contribute to that potential viewing pool. Saying goodbye to that aspect of the job wouldn’t be such a hardship given the devotion he’d shown to his career over the last several years. He’d given enough of himself and supposed that outlook had a lot to do with where he’d spent his weekend.
The sex had been superior and the reason his sleep had been piss-
poor over the last three nights. Superior sex, however, wasn’t all that had kept him so happily ensconced in Rayelle Keats’s domain. Knowing what it was like to sleep with and awaken next to the same woman was a pleasure he’d never really afforded himself—not the way he had with Ray.
He was sure that because they’d been working on a real friendship, it played heavily into the allure of the situation, as well. He’d almost been able to gain a sense of what had consumed all of his closest friends in the world. Almost. He wasn’t naive enough to believe that a few nights of excellent sex was the foundation for lifelong devotion.
He wasn’t about to walk away, though. Part of him knew Ray would think sex was the reason why. Given what he knew of her life, he supposed that was to be expected. He wasn’t going anywhere, though, and with that settled, there was only one thing left—getting her plans to align with his. Again, Barker found himself preoccupied with the varied and satisfying ways for making that happen.
Barker’s preoccupation didn’t last long when he remembered his co-workers seated at the other end of the table.
“So? Why now?” He restated his question. “Over the years, you two have done everything to stifle coverage of almost all my stories. Now you want to reward me for them? Why? And why now?”
“Dammit, Grant, we already told you why—”
“Will you make us beg?” Cole interrupted his partner.
“Beg? Why would you do that? Exactly who is this offer coming from?” Barker felt close to laughter. “Contrary to what the two of you might believe, I’m not egotistical enough to think you’ve finally seen the light. That you’re ready to acknowledge my flair and excellence in the world of journalism with a seat of power on a board you’re not even a part of.”
The executives both grimaced over that.
“You know the game as well as we do, Barker,” Harold spat. “In the end, affluence always wins. The privileged get what they want no matter how well others play.”
“So this generous offer isn’t coming from you two after all. What a surprise. Could it be from whoever’s pulling your strings to get me to back off of finding out who’s buying this property and why?”
“Hell, Barker, everything isn’t a cover-up!” Cole raged. “There’s no one behind the scenes running an agenda at every turn—”
“Only most of the turns,” Barker pointed out, still maddeningly calm. Silently, he thanked Rayelle. True, his easy manner could’ve been due to the sun and relaxation of the Bahamas. He knew he owed the abundance of his stress relief, however, to Rayelle Keats. Had this “chat” occurred a month ago, he would’ve already been on his feet and seriously considering upending the table he sat so calmly behind.
“Accept our offer or don’t, Grant.” Harold seemed to be drawing on a measure of calm, as well. “If you’re curious about where the offer came from, try the station owners. They don’t want to lose you for obvious reasons.”
“Look Barker,” Cole chimed in, “no matter our personal issues with each other, you’re one helluva reporter. If we can’t have you out there uncovering well-buried leads, we at least want you in the fold.”
“Is there some question about the way I’ve been uncovering my leads?” Barker straightened in his chair, intrigue all but crushing him then. “Is my job in danger?”
The executives laughed.
“Far from it!” Cole cried. “You’re the best on our staff. The on-air team would lose their minds without you to depend on.”
“Even still, Barker,” Harold interjected. “No one could fault you for walking away in light of things.”
Barker’s sleek brows knit. “In light of what things?”
Harold and Cole traded looks.
“Barker, we’ve heard about the threats.” Cole winced amid the confession. “Minor ones, but it doesn’t take much for stuff like this to escalate.”
“And we all know it’s not the first time I’ve been threatened.”
“But it’s the first time others have noticed it taking a toll.” The hint of a smile crossed Harold’s face when he saw Barker bristle.
Garrett Cole appeared to have noticed Barker’s reaction, as well. “Think on it, Barker. That’s all we ask.”
Following another exchange of looks, the duo stood and left the room. Barker remained. After a while, he reached for the phone and told the person who answered that they needed to talk.
Chapter 5
Endeavor House was a teen girls’ center and group home not far from the downtown area. The remodeled old Victorian house was grand in size and impression, and struck its visitors with a sense of reverence for history and purpose. It was a good thing since many of its visitors were young and uncertain, with little regard for their history and no clue of their purpose.
The Endeavor House mission was to give a sense of both. As for purpose, that was what its staff hoped to most greatly instill among the young charges. Ray considered the Endeavor House mission part of a more personal goal. Fourteen years ago, she’d arrived in Philadelphia from Miami. She was a kid herself, very much like the ones who frequented the home.
She’d been a girl full of attitude and self-presumed wisdom, whose rough upbringing had taken her down a series of rocky roads. This, until fate cut her a break and landed her in the world of a powerful woman with a good heart and a determination to change her path.
Jazmina Beaumont had been Rayelle’s Endeavor House, and Ray was now indebted to pay that goodness forward. It was a debt she was happy to repay. Her life could’ve turned down a truly grotesque path had Jaz Beaumont not seen her as more than a young girl content with spending her life on display for the pleasure of those who could’ve cared less about her well-being.
While her first step upon arrival in Philadelphia had been Jazzy B’s, it didn’t take Ray long to scope out others among the young and wayward. She found teen shelters—not like Endeavor House—but places where girls like her had lost their way. She’d gone into those places not to have a roof over her head—Jaz Beaumont had seen to that. She had gone so she wouldn’t forget.
Haunted by her past, Ray knew that pretending it never existed, that she’d never been affected by it, made the odds that much greater that her past could once again become her present. When her life began to take shape, growing in definition and purpose, she decided it was time to do more than sit and observe others.
She had walked through the doors of Endeavor House determined to make a difference. She’d volunteered there for just over ten years and had gotten so good at what she did there, the staff had made a flurry of offers in hopes of luring her away from Jaz Beaumont. Ray had declined, but accepted the offer to mentor. Her most recent group included a small, yet decidedly driven group of young women. Ray had sensed an immediate kinship among the circle of four. They looked at Endeavor House not as a destination, but a place to begin again.
Ray knew some of their histories, but not all. It was clear to her that the girls were determined to make their own way in the world, but drew the line at doing that in ways that might be hard or impossible to come back from.
She’d arrived that afternoon with a stash of goodies from the Bahamas. The twenty-five women of the Endeavor House staff adored every item Ray brought in: packets of coffees, teas, island jewelry and hats. For her group of mentees, she’d put together a slideshow that would be shown to them first. The presentation was saved to a drive so that the vivid shots could be shared with the other residents. Ray was excited to get the show underway, eager to see the light of hope and possibility in her group’s eyes.
When she made it into the cozy staff lounge, however, she found that she was one mentee short.
“That damn job of hers.” Leona Best blew out a laugh. “That’s why Suze isn’t here.”
“Well, it’s good to know she’s working,” Ray said, referring to Suzanne Jessup. “Don’t worry, she can watch the s
how with the others when she gets back.”
“Oh, she’s not at work, Ray.” Bettina Franks spoke up. “She’s upstairs, sleeping.”
“That’s why we’re all so peeved about it,” Leona said. “The place has her working like a slave ’til all sorts of hours.”
“This morning she didn’t get here until six thirty,” Ajani Pinkney added. “How’s she supposed to make it through school with hours like that? She lucked out that today’s a teacher workday.”
“Those are the breaks, ladies.” Ray gave them a crooked smile. “At least she’s keeping high school on the plate. Without that diploma, you’re at the mercy of whatever job you can get. You guys wanna make it on your own terms? Start by finishing your educations.”
Ajani groaned. “Prepare yourselves, guys, it’s another college chat.”
“No, that way isn’t for everyone.” Ray clicked on the drive’s icon. “There are lots of great choices besides college—at least give yourselves the benefit of starting strong, you know?”
Bettina nodded. “We get it, Ray. Promise.”
“Good, ’cause I’m ready to get to the fun stuff.” Ray engaged the file and the show started. Applause and laughter livened the room.
* * *
Barker was just topping off his coffee when Elias Joss entered the small meeting room. The old friends met in the center and greeted each other with hearty handshakes and hugs.
“Look at you, all relaxed!” Eli raved, devilry and teasing vivid in his blue-green eyes. “Where was that relaxation in the tropics?”
Barker rolled his eyes. “Don’t start, E.”
“Hey, I’m just remarking on verified info.” Eli spread his hands and backed away. “We all saw how you made a point of escorting Ray home.”
“Just being a gentleman.” Barker studied his coffee.
“Mmm...” Eli sounded far less convinced, while helping himself to juice from the beverage cart. “That why you weren’t home all weekend? Being a gentleman?”
Seductive Moments Page 5
