He read a newspaper clipping reporting on her father’s passing. The close-knit family had had to deal with his early death in a public way because he had been a prominent figure. Her father’s lengthy illness had caused him to have to cancel many events. As a result, Tamara and her mother had stepped up and filled many of the appointments. Supporters praised her direction, although she drew criticism for not being as powerful as her father. According to the article, she didn’t have the oratory power of her father, but Grant didn’t agree. She had had the power to sway him with her magnetic charisma.
A few snide articles called her the trust fund activist. There was a sole picture of her exiting a nightclub with friends, which had earned the wrath of a writer who was eager to vent about today’s youth. He was about to turn the page when he noticed that Tamara had issued a letter to the editor, taking the writer to task for being narrow-minded and not performing the proper research. He admired her for defending herself. That spark of fire that he had seen flash in her eyes when she was making a point had stirred up more than his approval. It was closer to an arousal.
But he had the desire to go deeper than these reports. The bare-bones information didn’t feed every detail of his curiosity. He was intrigued, and admittedly suspicious, that she chose this vocation when her life could have been lived with relative ease. Yet, if she was so down-to-earth with her students, why did she hobnob at the country club wearing designer fashion from head to toe and drive a shiny Bentley?
He suspected there were two sides to Tamara. He wondered which one was real. His schedule was filled for days, but he planned to make revealing the real Tamara Wendell a new priority. If there was one iota of questionable behavior from her or her students, he would be done with her. She’d regret the day that she had brazenly crashed his golf game.
One way to get close to her would be to accept her proposal to place the at-risk guys in his company. But he didn’t want to use the teens like that. He’d do his best for them, even if his charitable nature didn’t extend to their mentor.
Yes, he would enjoy uncovering Tamara. His thoughts drifted to the actual act of uncovering, disrobing, the full reveal. The thought of those hips that she’d wiggled at him at each hole sent him into a tailspin of dirty thoughts. At least nine times, not that he had counted, she had caused him to have to bite his inner cheek to remain cool while his sexual energy had been beating in his body.
Chapter 5
Latrice knocked and popped her head into his office. Before she could utter a word, Vanessa Lord sidestepped his assistant to gain entry.
“Hello, Grant. It’s so good to see you.”
Grant roused himself from his wandering thoughts and focused on the woman in front of him. He had been expecting her. She had invited him to lunch, but he’d turned that down and instead had invited her to his office. He wanted no misperception on her part that this meeting was a date.
He waved away Latrice before turning his attention on his ex-fiancée. “Let’s have a seat over here.” He motioned toward the suite of furniture arranged for small meetings.
“You know, I was worried that you weren’t going to meet me.” Vanessa’s tone took on a whine. No matter how unattractively she acted, she had the good fortune to look like a model: perfect face, perfect body and perfect fashion sense. He had known her long enough to know that the perfection didn’t go much farther than the outer shell. She had a mean, selfish streak that ran deep and hot like the earth’s magma center.
“You said that you had something important to say that had to be said in person,” Grant began. “I know you had a health scare recently. So I dropped what I was doing to meet with you. And that’s the only reason why you’re here.”
He’d dated Vanessa for a year. Even now he was ashamed to say that he had been infatuated with her beauty. Having a supermodel be interested in him and pursue him had played with his ego. Truly, if he’d bothered to pay attention to his instincts, and especially his mother’s nagging, he would have avoided the major damage Vanessa had caused.
They had had nothing in common. She’d wanted to take the relationship to the next level, so he’d given in and proposed. But he had listened to his father and brought up a prenup agreement. Grant still hadn’t recovered from the ringing sound of her enraged shriek when he’d mentioned the word prenup. Their breakup had resembled a violent tornado, and Vanessa had unleashed her venom until the law had had to intervene. Now he didn’t have a problem closing off his heart to her. But when he’d heard that she had battled breast cancer, he’d allowed a thaw in their relations. But since their painful and bitter breakup, he’d had no appetite to connect more than casually with any woman, much less ask anyone on a date.
Vanessa flipped her hair over her shoulder. “My mother wants to meet you again.”
He was certain that she knew how much he’d once admired the length and grace of her neck that now showcased her thick, luxurious hair cascading over one shoulder. The difference today was that she meant nothing to him; therefore, nothing she did registered even a blip on his radar.
“Your mother? Meet me? Again?” An icy trickle of fear slithered down his spine. He twitched involuntarily. “Are you pregnant?” He hadn’t been with her in over a year, but that never stopped someone from tossing out the accusation. He pushed on, not even waiting for an answer. “Is it about your health?”
She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “I’m fine. No baby.” She tapped her flat stomach and then pulled out a cigarette. “I’d have to put these down, and nine months without one isn’t going to happen.” She shifted her expression into more of an amicable, easygoing countenance. “I admitted to my mom the other day how much I was moved by your thoughtful gift when I was sick. Gosh, and those flowers were to die for. Can you believe some people didn’t even send me a get-well email?” Her brow knitted, as if the reason for the snub was beyond her comprehension. “Ever since then, you’ve been on my mind. I think that I’ve fallen in love with you all over again.”
“And you told this to your mom?” Suddenly Grant needed a drink of water. “I don’t think this conversation is for me.”
“It’s more than just talk. You’re my soul mate. I know because when you close your eyes, you should be able to hear your soul mate’s voice or see his face instantaneously.”
Grant wanted to object. He knew that closing his eyes conjured only Tamara’s face. And, as a point of fact, there was no way that he thought of Tamara as his soul mate. Even she would issue one of her throaty, guttural laughs at that notion.
“This conversation is over.” Grant pushed back from his chair and stood. “I don’t know what you’d hoped would happen. Frankly that doesn’t matter.” He signaled in the space between her and him. “We are over.”
“I was hoping that you’d change your mind.” Vanessa’s smile wavered. “If you meet with my mother, she’ll make you understand—”
“Stop. I shouldn’t have done this.” He didn’t want to give life to something that was long dead and buried. He hated being the bad guy and feeling as if he was being insensitive, but truly nothing lingered in his heart for her. And he didn’t want any reminders of what could have been with Vanessa as his wife.
“I don’t mind signing the prenup. I even brought a copy.” She smoothed out a copy of the original document. “I shouldn’t have listened to my girlfriends. They said that you weren’t in love with me if you had to give me a prenup.” She wiped the tears from her eyes. “All I’m asking for is a second chance.” She wiped another escaping tear.
The more that Vanessa reiterated her point, the more Grant withdrew. No part of him wanted anything to do with Vanessa. He had made the mistake of settling for her, letting his ego get the better of him, rushing toward a fantasy that had remained elusive.
When he thought of beauty, brains and a sexy body that could cause a fantasy or two,
only one person came to mind—Tamara Wendell. But he was wiser and much tougher now, and he knew that there was no real connection with Tamara. How could there be? The sexual nudge to his system when he was around her or even thought about her was only a tiny spark. He didn’t want to call it anything more significant.
“Let’s end this conversation on a civil note, shall we? Good-bye. And I wish you well, Vanessa.”
More tears welled in Vanessa’s eyes. Underneath the sorrow, he could see the anger of being scorned. The niggling sense that this might not be over hung in the room. He knew that she could go from sorrow to rage in an instant. A relationship that had started as a blind date had now turned into a recurring nightmare.
Vanessa gathered up her purse. “Since you are a man who hasn’t given up on his dream, then you should recognize a kindred spirit. I won’t give up on mine.” She stood with an erect posture, turned and walked away from him with her head held high. In a final show of anger, she flung open the office door and marched past a bewildered Latrice, who had to scoot back to get out of Vanessa’s way.
Grant didn’t move. He wasn’t worried about Vanessa’s new obsession, at least not in a way that made him worry about his safety. Instead, he wondered how much of a bother she’d be, especially once he notified security that she was persona non grata. Her mother! Like hell that would happen. He shook his head at the thought.
Grant wasted no time in calling Latrice and passing on his new instructions about Vanessa. Now that he’d wasted an hour, he had to get back to work. On his list of things to do was to call Tamara with his decision.
By the time he’d wrapped up pending items on his desk, he had changed his mind about calling Tamara. “Latrice, get in touch with Tamara Wendell. Let her know that I’m on my way to her academy to talk to her.”
Paying a visit to Tamara wasn’t on his to-do list, but dealing with Vanessa had royally screwed his mind from concentrating on anything. Tamara’s face had been popping into his head all day, and he wanted to see her. Plus, what better way to observe her than on her turf?
Grant left Rockville and headed over to the academy on the other side of the Beltway that wound around Maryland, Virginia and Washington, D.C. The academy was nestled on the outskirts of College Park, near the main campus of the University of Maryland. The mainly residential area had been split into several subdivisions along the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad.
As he crested a steep hill in his car, New Horizons Leadership Academy popped into view. The red brick building had been a middle school. Its former name was still etched in the bricks arched over the entrance. The area looked worn around the edges. There were a few homes nearby that had For Sale signs or whose doors and windows were boarded shut. A dog ambled down the road, barking halfheartedly at his car. He pulled into the parking lot, surveying the area for any signs of life. A few cars were already parked. Otherwise, there weren’t signs of anyone.
The grass around the school had been recently mowed, and there was a small flower garden outlining the property. A fenced-in play area with new playground equipment was situated off to the side. Despite the dreary neighborhood and dated style of the school, a fresh coat of paint had been applied to the trimmings and windows. He was impressed with the efforts made to enhance the community.
He walked up the few steps leading to the massive entrance door. The door was locked, and not until he announced his name through the intercom was he allowed entry. Stepping into the lobby, he could see the signs of a small community of children. He stepped beyond another door and a glass wall and noticed that the classrooms were occupied. One class of young children was singing, another one was writing and another was listening to the instructor read from an oversized picture book.
Nowhere did he see any older teens. Considering it was only two o’clock, they may still be in school. He looked forward to learning more about them and their time at the academy. He wanted to do his own research so that he could make an independent decision. But his first impression was crucial. He walked back to the lobby and was greeted by the receptionist.
“May I help you?”
“I’m here to see Tamara Wendell.”
“Grant, good to see you.”
That familiar husky voice greeted him from behind with a crisp, businesslike tone. His shoulders instantly tensed...waiting. He turned to face her. She had approached from the hallway and was now stopped with arms crossed and a hip cocked to the side. He was ready for her signature brashness and cocky smile.
Instead, she pinned him with a cool look. Yes, she smiled. Yes, she welcomed him. Those eyes, however, fastened on him and cast a cool, disdainful inspection over him. What had he done?
“Come this way.” She led the way to the first room and stepped aside in the doorway to her office. More than a little curious, Grant approached her, almost ready to tiptoe across the room if that would relax the tension. He imagined how any misbehaving student must feel to be summoned by her. Yet, she appeared more irritated than angry about his presence. He followed her invitation.
As Grant walked into her office, he readied himself for her attack. Surely, there had to be a reason for the icy reception. One thing for sure, he had no intention of leaving until he found out why she seemed prickly. He paused, wanting to confront her for an explanation. Her perfumed scent tantalized his senses, causing wild thoughts to form. What if he reached out to lift her small chin? What if he smoothed back the wayward strands of her hair? What if he kissed her mouth and tasted those full lips that toyed with his imagination? He struggled to get his breathing under control.
Mere feet away from her now, he noted all the small details of where her moles dotted her skin, the various shades of auburn that streaked throughout her hair and the natural lift of her round eyes, which added to their unique beauty. Under different circumstances, he would be tempted to touch her silky hair and let his fingers gently comb it into submission.
However, he risked his fingers being broken and handed back to him if he tried that move now. Taking the safer route, he muted his explosive, internal reactions and looked around at her office.
“Wow!” Grant exclaimed. “This is an awesome setup you have.” He spun around in a circle to admire the room.
The decor was neither haphazard nor average as many offices were. Instead, the room infused him with a sense of calm, mixed with easy comfort. She had created an inviting place away from the hectic world beyond her office walls. He didn’t know the specifics of the color spectrum, but he knew what he liked. And the various shades of soft browns mixed with the bolder richness of gold hues created a soothing mood in the room.
She didn’t use the average, heavy office furniture. Clean and efficient could describe the modern flair of the desk, bookcases and chairs. The bookcases were filled with a variety of books and magazines geared toward younger readers.
“I have an open-door policy with my students and staff. They can come in and read or talk or take a calming time-out.”
“And you work in here?”
“For the most part. I have a smaller room if I need privacy. But I never want to shut myself off at the academy.”
“I see you also have a day care.”
“Yes, there is always a need for a good day care. It’s fairly new to our list of activities. We provide the day care throughout the day, and then our after-school program is for the older teens.”
“You’ve done a lot in over a year. I read up on the academy and was surprised that you have seventy-five boys and that they’re all between the ages of twelve and eighteen. Some of the boys who have moved on spoke highly of you and the staff in their testimonials.”
She sighed, and her shoulders relaxed. “Have a seat, please.” Her wary gaze still hovered over him.
He complied. This quieter version of Tamara made him uneasy. He had gotten used to her exuberance by the end of their
game last time. How could he not admire her tenacity and energy? Even Hadfield and Norton still reminisced about the game, dropping heavy hints that they wanted to play again with her.
From the cool reception she’d given him, he doubted that she’d volunteer to fill in for a game of golf.
“How can I help you? Your assistant’s insistence that I see you today has made me curious.”
“I wanted to talk some more about your proposal.”
“I didn’t think you were interested. It’s been a week.” A slight tone of disapproval crept into her tone.
“I’ve been thinking about it every day,” he countered. He couldn’t stop thinking about her grand plan, but mostly he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
She crossed her arms, clearly waiting for him to continue. Her chin jutted out, ready to take him to task for any perceived slight. Now she made him tense.
The distance between them seemed like hundreds of feet, and a thick layer of frost covered the gap.
“So you want my company to commit to six months with ten guys.” Grant repeated the proposal to ensure that they were still on the same page.
“Yes.” Now her foot tapped. If he waited any longer, he expected to see her explode from the anticipation.
“I want to talk about the young men.” He wasn’t ready to give in just yet.
“What would you like to know?”
“I don’t want more information about them. I want to talk to them—that’s what my assistant should have told you.”
“She did. However, your request is a bit unusual. No one has ever asked to meet them before taking them on.”
Passionate Game (Kimani Hotties) Page 5
