“Let’s see, I have it somewhere. Let me check,” Brandan replied and opened the black leather-bound notebook in his hand, flipping through it until he’d found the page he was looking for.
Though he really didn’t need to check. The project details, as well as Leila James, were firmly entrenched in his mind.
“It’s all good. Just waiting for one last tenant.”
“Same woman who sent us the letter protesting us ‘destroying her livelihood?’” Mateo asked and laughed.
“Yeah,” Brandan said, and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Leila James. Owner of Aunt Sadie’s Café. In fact, she’s taking it up a notch. Says she going to fight us. Going to the city’s Hall of Historical Records to stop us from buying the land.”
“How in hell is she going to do that?” Mateo asked, his good humor rapidly disintegrating.
“She says there’s some tree on her property that has historical significance.”
“Damn, if it’s not one thing, it’s something else. She’s the only one holding out on us, and holding up the project. The other owners were more than happy to sell and get five times what their businesses were worth!” he replied, a frown creasing his brow as he glanced over the document. “What the hell does she want? You’d think she’d be happy to get it off her hands. Didn’t she inherit it or something?”
“Let me see it,” Damian asked. With a sigh of disgust, Mateo handed the document over.
Just the mention of the woman—Leila James—caused conflicting emotions for Brandan. He’d been the one “assigned” to deal with her. Over the course of the last few months, the woman had raised his blood pressure to soaring levels. He didn’t know what would happen if he were to actually come face-to-face with the woman, but it was something that admittedly—embarrassingly—he inexplicably got hard just thinking about.
Damn. Yeah, he needed a woman.
“I’ll contact her again,” was all he said to his partners.
“So that’s it, right?”
“You got plans?” Damian asked, handing the document back to Brandan.
“Yeah. A date,” Brandan replied absentmindedly, and placed the document back in its file.
“With who, Serena?”
“No, broke it off a few weeks ago with her.”
“This makes what? The third new woman in as many weeks, amigo?” Mateo replied with an easy laugh.
“And the problem with that is…?”
They all laughed. Brandan knew he wasn’t known to keep dating one woman much longer than a few months, but even for him, this was a lot.
“Looking for Ms. Right?” Mateo asked, and a small smile lifted one corner of his mouth.
“About as much as you are.”
“Yeah…right.”
“You guys never know, stranger things have happened. The right woman could come along, and you’ll be trading your sports cars for minivans with built-in TVs to keep the kiddies occupied while you take a road trip to Disneyland,” Damian laughingly warned.
A look of indescribable horror flashed across Mateo’s face, and Brandan barked out a laugh, only to have Damian turn to him.
“What are you laughing at? Out of the two of you, I’d lay my kids’ college fund that you’re the first one to be picking out a beige tricked-out minivan!”
“Yeah, well, I don’t think Wanda would like you losing your kids’ tuition money on that one. I like the single life just fine.”
“Man, not every woman is the same.”
When his friend turned his dark-eyed gaze toward him, Brandan felt the slightest bit of discomfort, as though Damian was looking right through him.
He knew Damian was referring to his mother and their uncomfortable relationship. “The right woman comes along and man, it’s like BAM, that’s all she wrote. Tagged and bagged…the rest is history.”
“That would have to be one hell of a woman. And one big-ass bag,” Brandan replied nonchalantly.
Before Damian could respond, the office door flung open abruptly.
“Miss, I’m sorry, but you don’t have an appointment! You can’t just go in there—”
“I’m sorry Mr. Walters—gentlemen—I thought she’d left after I told her you were unavailable. I went to the restroom but when I came back, she was going inside! I tried to stop her but she—”
Surprised, all three men stared, each with varying expressions on their face, as a beautiful, tall, determined-looking woman stood towering behind Brandan’s small, very flustered assistant.
“Look, miss, I’ve told you—”
“No, that’s fine, Judith. She can come in. In fact, why don’t you head out for the day. I’ll lock up,” he said, never taking his eyes off the woman who’d moved from behind Judith, and was now watching all of them with an air of majestic expectancy. As though she had every right to barge into his office without notice.
It was the woman from the lobby.
Brandan barely noticed when Judith reluctantly took her leave. He saw both of his partners staring at the woman with just as much interest as he, and when he noticed a sly-ass grin cross Mateo’s face, something in him wanted to knock the man’s teeth down his throat.
He turned to the woman and asked, “We have an appointment, Ms…?”
5
Okay, so now that she’d barged inside, she had to do something.
She thought Brandan was alone, even though his assistant told her he was busy. After she’d come up earlier and had seen the amount of traffic going in and out of his office, she’d decided to retreat and figure out some sort of game plan.
So instead of going to his office, she’d left instead, done a bit of window shopping, absentmindedly strolling around the busy midtown area, her mind working through the puzzle of saving her restaurant.
She’d returned after a hour or so, wanting to catch him before he left for the day. She still didn’t exactly know what she was going to say to him.
Now she stood in the room, with three very interested pair of eyes staring at her, each with varying expressions on their faces.
As Judith firmly closed the door behind her, Leila in turn glanced at each of the men in the room.
She vaguely remembered the assistant telling her that Mr. Walters was leaving after the meeting with his partners. At the time, her only thought had been to catch him before he left for the weekend.
Leila quickly ran an assessing eye over each of them, her natural ability to sum up a man quickly coming to her aid.
Like Brandan, the two other men in the room were large, although neither had the breadth of shoulders and sheer overall intense masculine presence that Brandan did.
These were his partners, she assumed, and the one lounging in the chair closest to Brandan was probably Mateo Sanchez. His olive-colored skin and dark wavy hair suggested that he was.
His eyes, nearly black, ran over her in a lazy, very sexual manner, a look she was quite used to. And though he was gorgeous, with his dark coloring, classic features, and olive-colored complexion set off to perfection against this designer suit—Armani if her guess was correct—his obvious interest didn’t do a thing for her.
She turned her gaze to the third man occupying the room. He too was large, muscled, and one fine specimen of manhood as well. His skin was the color of bitter milk chocolate, and his features were bold, with lips full and luscious, her personal favorite. The kind of lips that devoured a woman in one fatal swoop. The kind of lips a woman would be crazy not to want to devour her.
He must be Damian Reed, the third partner in their firm. Whereas Sanchez’s gaze was openly interested, openly sexual in his appraisal, this man’s was much more subtle, as though he appreciated the way she looked, but that was about it.
Leila wasn’t conceited, but she had a mirror, had grown up with them in fact, so she was quite aware she was attractive. She just didn’t allow it to define her.
So yes, in his dark-eyed gaze she saw male appreciation, but that was all she detected. A quick
look at his left hand, with its gleaming gold band, told her the reason.
Although that never stopped half the men she knew from checking out a woman, this one simply gave her the impression that he was curious as to who she was, not that he wanted to get in her panties.
And the eyes told it all. Leila had been taught by her great-aunt that a person’s eyes never lied. Sanchez’s eyes told her he was a player. This man’s eyes told her he wasn’t.
After her quick assessment, she turned to Brandan. And though this was the first time they’d met in person, she felt as though she knew him.
The look in his bright blue eyes shot electric awareness her way, just as she’d experienced downstairs in the lobby, straight to her gut. The same sparks she’d been feeling from the first time they’d exchanged communication, before she’d ever met the man.
She shivered, cleared her throat, and spoke. “I, uh…I thought I’d come by…so that we could continue our business discussion,” she said, clearing her throat again.
She hoped to God he wouldn’t embarrass her by asking what the hell she was talking about. She held her breath.
As soon as she spoke, she saw his eyes narrow, a frown creasing his forehead. Her heart sank straight to her toes and her gut clenched, preparing for him to bust her out.
He surprised her.
“Absolutely. I agree,” he said, and Leila almost sank to the floor in relief.
Some of the nervous flutters in her stomach calmed, and she inhaled a small, quick breath and sent a quiet “thank you” heavenward. “Why don’t you come in, have a seat. My partners and I were just finishing up for the day.”
Leila felt like crossing her arms over her chest in feminine protection against his looks, as he leisurely glanced her over as she stood stiffly in the doorway.
The two stared at each other, the attraction she felt downstairs hitting her again. She tried to ignore it, reminding herself she was on a mission here—not to get laid, but to save her business.
“I thought you had plans, Brandan. I’d be happy to sit in for you with Ms.—”
Leila reluctantly moved her eyes away from Brandan Walters and surveyed the man who was watching the exchange with interested dark brown eyes.
“James,” she replied. “Leila James,” she said, noticing all three men sitting up further in their chairs.
She waited for recognition to set in. The wait wasn’t long.
“Would that be the same Leila James who owns Aunt Sadie’s Café?”
Leila turned to the tall, handsome black man who asked the question, and mentally braced herself to remain calm, stiffening her spine when she noted how the atmosphere in the room subtly changed from idly curious to hostile in five seconds flat.
“Yes,” she replied.
“Didn’t know you had a meeting planned with Ms. James,” the one she assumed was Sanchez casually replied, but Leila wasn’t fooled.
“We’re done here, right gentlemen?” Brandan asked, turning to his partners with expectancy. “Ms. James and I have dinner plans.”
Her head whipped around, surprised. A fiery spark of awareness arced wildly between them as he waited to see if she’d dispute his words. When she only slightly nodded her head, he turned to his partners in satisfaction.
Although both Mateo and Damian rose to their feet, it was Mateo who, with a slightly raised dark brow, asked, “I thought you had plans of a different sort tonight, amigo. Weren’t they with Selena?” He snapped two fingers and “tsked” himself before continuing. “Sorry amigo, that would be Angela, wouldn’t it? Serena was last week, si?” he blithely continued.
He strolled toward Leila with his hand outstretched and a small half grin on his face.
Brandan wanted to knock his gleaming-ass teeth down his throat, anger washing over him in crimson waves.
She allowed Mateo to grasp her hand with both of his. He lifted it to his lips and kissed the back of her hand.
Brandan’s jealousy eased when he caught her withdrawal and the fleeting flash of irritation cross her face before she schooled her expression, and gave his partner a tight smile.
Yes. This was the woman he had come to know through their emails. The kind of woman who, if given the right provocation, would not tolerate such liberties from a man she didn’t know.
“Why don’t you allow me to take you to dinner instead? I’m more than willing to listen to whatever…proposition you have in mind,” Mateo murmured, and when he released her hand, Leila resisted the very tempting desire to wipe her hand on her skirt.
Everyone’s attention was on Brandan, and Leila was fascinated by the slight flush that colored his cheeks.
He walked over to Mateo and, although the two men were of similar height, Brandan seemed, at that moment, to tower over his partner as he stood glowering at him.
“That won’t be necessary, amigo, I can make arrangements to reschedule my other…appointment,” he said, subtly maneuvering his body so that he stood closer to Leila.
Leila looked at both men, biting the inside of her cheek, working this new puzzle in her mind.
By any means necessary.
That was her motto when it came to saving Aunt Sadie’s.
She glanced toward the other partner, as he too came sauntering her way, a look of supreme amusement on his dark handsome face.
“Whichever one of my partners you decide to discuss your situation with, Ms. James, I’m sure you’ll make the right choice.”
Leila tried to discern a deeper meaning in his words from his facial expression, but with that cryptic answer, he wished them all a good weekend and left the office, leaving Leila alone with two men, both of whom wanted, for their own reasons, to take her out to dinner.
She bit back a smile.
Things were looking up for her and Aunt Sadie’s, she thought, hiding her smile of satisfaction as she glanced at each man in turn.
6
“Beautiful. I’ve never been here before,” Leila said as Mateo handed the waiter both of their menus.
She’d come to the upscale French restaurant, Loiseau’s, at his enthused suggestion after she’d decided to allow him to take her out to dinner.
She had been torn. She’d come to the office, not sure what to expect, and with the surprise outcome of both men wanting to take her out, the tension in Brandan’s office had been palpable.
Her objective was to petition that they abandon their plans to buy the block of land and toward that end, she debated which man would be the one more likely to hear her side. Which one would really listen to what she had to say.
She was a painfully honest woman, even to herself, therefore she acknowledged there was the added tantalizing element that both men were interested in her. And she doubted it had much to do with urban renewal and development.
For reasons beyond her, or ones she chose not to examine closely, she’d decided to take Mateo up on his offer of dinner and conversation. She’d had communication with Brandan for over two months, and all the man had managed to do was infuriate her, and have her long to strangle his neck.
She’d then taken a look at him, his big body casually leaning against his desk, observing her with a look that sent crazy chills running down her spine, and revised her opinion.
Hmmm. As thick as his neck was, she doubted she could wrap her hands around them to make good on her threats. She’d caught him staring at her, one corner of his mouth hitched in a smile that made her teeth clench, as though he could read her thoughts.
After seeing the smirk on his infuriating, albeit handsome face, her mind was most definitely made up.
She accepted Mateo’s offer, telling Brandan she didn’t want to cause him to change his plans for her. At her decision, some of the smugness dropped and she saw his face tighten when Mateo had escorted her out of the office.
She’d not been able to resist looking back over her shoulder as they left. She’d caught the tic in the corner of his mouth, denoting his irritation, along with the hooded look in
his eyes when his gaze had centered on Mateo’s hand at the small of her back as he ushered her out the door.
“Yes, it is. I come as much as I can. Particularly with a beautiful woman. Makes it that much more…appealing.”
Leila gave him a small smile in acknowledgement of the compliment. Even if it was a tad on the cheesy side, she thought.
After she’d agreed to accompany him, Mateo immediately insisted he drive and Leila had politely told him no. She didn’t like the predatory gleam in his eyes, and no matter what he thought her reasons were for agreeing to go with him, hers were purely for business.
And well, maybe a bit of spite thrown in, against Brandan.
At any rate, she didn’t give him an explanation, despite the fact that he seemed to be waiting for her to do so. After a small awkward pause, after she’d told him she’d drive herself and follow him, they’d caravanned to the restaurant.
Now, as she sat across from him, she glanced around at the romantic candle-lit restaurant.
It was decorated in subtle, varying shades of reds. The stone walls were color-washed in crimson, with a faux finish that complimented the large murals depicting various scenes of couples, some subtle, some more overtly sexual, forms blending into the next, bodies molding against others. It all added to the overall sensual vibe of the restaurant.
She had to look at one mural twice to make sure she was seeing it right.
“Sensual, isn’t it?” Mateo asked, bringing her attention back to him.
Just then the waiter returned and brought a bottle of wine to the table. With a flourish, he presented the bottle to Mateo and after his nod of approval, poured a taste into his glass.
After accepting the fluted glass from the waiter, he brought the wine to his nose, gently swirled the contents, and took a sip. Once again, Mateo nodded his approval and the waiter filled his glass, then poured a second one and handed it to Leila.
“Yes, it is,” she agreed, lightly stroking her fingers down the side of the crystal wine goblet.
“I know the artist,” he said, referring to the murals. “He’s a friend. I’ve commissioned him to do some private work for me. He does commissioned works at a few local businesses. If you ever want to add something different in the way of decorating to your restaurant, I could introduce you to him. He’s a personal friend,” he finished, placing the glass of wine down on the soft cloth-covered table.
Scream My Name Page 4
