“I know.” He cut her off, instantly regretting that it sounded curt.
“I know you’re busy.”
“Yeah, I’m heading to a meeting, but I always have time to talk to you.” Grant left out that reporters had draped themselves over his car.
“Well, I just wanted to see how you were doing.”
Grant tapped the phone against his temple, right at the spot where his headache seemed to thrive. He emitted a groan before returning the phone to his ear. “I’ve changed my mind. You may produce the documentary, but I want a say in the final cut.” His teeth gritted in frustration.
“Whoa! That’s a big change.” Her voice held a tinge of disbelief. “You’re a stubborn man. Why the change?”
“I thought about it and, well, your argument made sense.”
* * *
Two hours later, Grant sat in Tamara’s office repeating his decision.
“Okay, where’s the real Grant?” Tamara walked around the room, opening and closing doors, pulling aside the blinds. “Someone come get this impostor.”
“Keep it up and I’ll change my mind.”
“Spoilsport.”
Grant pushed aside the humor. “I know you’ve thought about the details, so fill me in with the what, when, where and how.”
To her credit, Tamara got straight to the point. She fed him all the information. He listened attentively, peppering her with questions only when some detail made him uncomfortable.
“How soon can you get started?”
Her eyebrows popped.
“You have every detail ironed out, so I’m figuring that you’re ready to fly with this.” Grant wanted to see her commit, but more important, he wanted the project to be done with the highest quality.
She nodded. “It will only take one phone call.” She gazed at him.
His agitation increased. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Weren’t you the one hounding me to do this?”
“Asking. Suggesting. Recommending. But, hounding—that’s a bit much.” She stepped back, resting her hip against the wall. Her expression showed how much she was interested in what he said.
“I don’t want to take advantage of the guys.” And somewhere not too deep under the surface, Grant knew that was exactly what he was doing.
“I don’t think you would do that.”
“You’d suggested that I should be putting on a different face for the media. What does that involve?”
She nodded. “But you look like you’ve had to swallow a bitter pill to agree to the film. If you’re hesitant or unconvincing, that will come through on screen. Then you’ll be faced with a bigger problem—damage control.”
Grant said nothing.
“Is there anything that you’d rather not come out under public scrutiny?”
“No.”
“Okay,” she said quietly.
Grant stepped away from Tamara. This plan to keep her in his close circle should work, and it would also get the media off his back. Increasing the good press for the internship program would help all involved. Yet, he felt as if he’d walked in mud up to his knees to make this happen.
“You worry too much,” Tamara scolded. “You’ve got so much stuff locked up in that head.” She laughed, no humor lacing the sound. “The entire world isn’t your enemy.”
Her message came through.
They were already lovers. Since when was that enough to hold a relationship together, though? Lovers betrayed each other all the time. Witnessing and living through betrayal left the soul a minefield.
He wrenched his gaze away from Tamara. Her soft sigh did even more damage; it was as if she had hit him squarely between the shoulder blades. She wasn’t the enemy. His heart had made its declaration. But it did have a track record for faulty logic.
Tamara clapped her hands together. “Let me get on the phone and get the ball rolling. Then we can meet with the crew and talk about specifics,” she said in a crisp, all-business tone.
“Sounds good.”
Tamara walked to her desk and sat. Her face was stoic, giving away nothing. They said a quick good-bye and he took his exit.
Outside her door, he exhaled. A burden had been lifted, somewhat. The bad publicity against his company and his plans would be averted. He had to save what he’d built at any cost. His gut did its tap dance with indigestion. He popped an antacid and headed for his car.
* * *
Tamara had gotten what she wanted. Filming Grant in his surroundings, sharing his passion and presenting his vision, had quickly become her main goal. From the first time she’d met him, he’d had a unique ability to draw her in. And she didn’t count herself as someone who easily fell for a handsome face or even charming manners.
Grant had that “it” factor that caused everyone to want to be around him. She’d seen it with his employees. She saw it when they went out on their dates. She saw it with the young interns. But Grant never showed that he needed that stroke to his ego. If anything, he almost seemed bashful at the attention.
And yet, what did she really know about him? The media had touched on some of the sides of Grant that she wondered about, but she’d like to think that she didn’t believe some of the negative hype.
Liar.
Her cheeks burned with the thought that she did have reservations about Grant, especially his wealth and his motivation for doing what he did.
The next day, Tamara placed the last of the follow-up calls to set things in motion. She couldn’t help the excitement that was stirring into existence. Despite her curiosity about him and his company, he had nothing to fear from her motives.
By the time she hung up from the call, her writing pad was filled with pages of how the production would unfold. Little by little, she mapped out the story line, making sure to add pieces that highlighted the guys but that also detailed Grant’s personal involvement with them.
He had to come across as a man who was ready to roll up his sleeves and work; a man who wasn’t afraid to sit down among his employees and build something into a much-coveted product; a man who wasn’t so full of his success that he couldn’t reach out to be an inspiration to others.
Once she was satisfied with what she’d written, she emailed it to the head of the film production crew, copying Grant on the email. She didn’t want to spring anything on him. His feelings mattered to her, despite how suspicious he had been when she’d briefed him.
Her cell phone buzzed—Becky.
“What’s up?” she greeted.
“You’re sounding way too perky. I thought you’d be upset that I was gone for a bit longer than I said,” Becky said.
“I am. But I don’t want you rushing from your mom’s side. How’s your mother?”
“She’s not doing as well as expected. The fractured hip is now their main concern. Once she’s stable, they will deal with the pacemaker. She’s on complete bed rest, not that she has a choice.”
“I’m so sorry. I’ll keep her health in my prayers.” Tamara dreaded what Becky would undoubtedly tell her next.
“I’m going to stay here. I have no idea about anything right now.”
“Hey, don’t worry about us here. Clear your head of this place. Okay?” Tamara’s stomach clenched. Becky was her right-hand woman. “Take as long as you need. Keep me in the loop, and pass on my love to your mom.”
“Thanks, Tamara. I’m so freaked out by everything.”
“By the way, what does your brother think?”
“He doesn’t have a say because his girlfriend is acting as if she’s his wife and she’s ruling the homestead. But I want to concentrate on making our mother as comfortable as possible. More than likely I will have to put her in a senior home. Not my favorite choice, but it’s that time in life t
o make the difficult decisions.”
“I understand.” Tamara pinched the bridge of her nose. Listening to Becky talk about her mother reminded her about how difficult it had been with her father. “Take care of your mother.”
“Thank you. I could just hug you.”
“I miss your hugs, too.”
“Hey, how is it going with your boy toy?”
“I will pretend that I don’t know who you are talking about.” Tamara filled her in on the documentary and updated her on the various stages of production.
“I’m impressed. You have way more sway than I thought you had over Grant. You are a woman of hidden talents. Or you’re relentless as heck and he couldn’t take your badgering anymore.”
“You’re lucky that you’re thousands of miles away. I can’t strangle you.”
Becky laughed.
“Time for me to get back to work. Time for you to go check on your mother. Give your brother a hug.”
“One out of the two requests is doable. That last one you may have to pay me.”
This time it was Tamara’s turn to chuckle.
“With all seriousness, Tammy...”
Tamara knew that when her friend used her childhood nickname, they were communicating on a deeper level, like sisters. They had gone through a heck of a lot through the years.
They had been there for each other as they dealt with boyfriend breakups, breast cancer health scares and workplace drama.
Becky restarted. “Look, Tammy, staying here with my mother has made me think a lot about my mother’s health, my own mortality, the family that I really want to have. Sometimes, it’s good to slow down to really live.”
Tamara heard the message and she even agreed with Becky, but only when it came to Becky’s life. She operated under a different set of rules. Slowing down wasn’t a solution for her.
Becky continued. “I like Grant. Because I’m a spectator, I can see ahead of you. If you’d bother to open your eyes and heart, whatever you’re running from or wherever you’re trying to go wouldn’t matter. Don’t let fear overtake you.” Becky paused. “Are you listening to me?”
“Uh-huh.” Tamara didn’t want to wander down the romantic road that Becky used to navigate her own life. She wasn’t a total skeptic on love, although marriage did require a bit more effort than she was willing to provide. But the expectation that she would go after Grant for marriage was not only a bit premature, but highly unlikely given their mutual views on the matter.
“I hear the wheels turning in your head,” Becky said.
“Leave me alone, woman.”
“Please tell me that you haven’t already ditched the man and moved on to someone else. You need to give this man a chance. I can feel that he’s the right one for you.”
“What pills are you taking? I’m not trying to get attached to anyone. My left ring finger will be void of any jewelry for a long time, and I’ve taken a blood oath to that, in case you didn’t know.”
“One day you’ll wake up.”
“Doubt it, because I’m already awake and seeing the world just fine.”
If, and that was a big if, Grant and she ever got together in a serious way, he had to know from the start that she wasn’t willing to play Tammy, the happy wife and housekeeper.
“You know, sometimes Tamara doesn’t always know what’s best.”
“Why are you so stressed about me and Grant? A month ago, we were on the same page.” About hating men, she wanted to add.
“I met someone.”
“When? Why are you holding back on me? I should have known. Okay, ’fess up.”
“I met a guy who is in a band.”
“What the hell?” Tamara rolled her eyes. She could see the drama already starting for Round One. She didn’t know if she had the stamina for all ten rounds, especially when she’d be the one to pick up the pieces for Becky.
“His name is G-Dragon,” Becky announced with a dreamy lilt in her voice.
“Oh, no.”
“What?”
“G-Dragon! What the hell? Where did you meet Mr. Dragon?”
“Stop being a nit. That’s his stage name. He’s in a hip-hop group. I first saw him perform over the summer at the international rock festival in New Jersey.”
“That one? The group you dragged me to see in the fall?”
“Yep.”
“Oh, my God, not the Asian dude with blond hair and tats? I knew we shouldn’t have bought the VIP tickets!” Only Becky could make a backstage encounter more than a normal fan meet and greet. She should have known that the small-framed, bad boy type would have ensnared her friend.
“South Korean to be specific,” Becky corrected.
“Whatever. I—I don’t know what to say. He’s not even local, as in not a citizen of the U.S. of A.”
“Don’t you think we know that?”
“Are you using your mother’s illness as an excuse? Are you with him now?” Tamara hated to think that she’d been duped.
“Give me some credit.”
“Why should I? You kept this a secret for several months.” Tamara didn’t try to hide her disappointment.
“Sorry, but I knew you’d lecture me, so... Anyway, he’s coming back through the area in the fall. Then, we’ll see how it goes.”
“I’m supposed to lecture. That’s what BFFs do. I’m glad that I still have several months to pull you off that romantic cliff.”
“I’m not you, Tammy. I need someone in my life. Not to make me complete, but because I’m not afraid to open my heart and feel and respond.”
“Also to have that heart broken.”
“I don’t have the energy to walk around waiting for the world to come crashing down on me or to expect the worst from people.”
“Don’t try to make me out to be the party pooper.” Tamara smarted under the criticism. “Let me know how your mom is doing and whatever you need worked out on this side of the world.”
Her friend sighed. “Okay.”
After the call ended, Tamara sat back, trying not to nurse the feeling of abandonment. Somehow she felt as if Becky had pulled up stakes and they were no longer in their girl-independence mode together.
Tamara had to admit that she sometimes took Becky’s presence for granted. After high school, they had gone off to college together and then declared New York City their city of choice to start their careers. They’d leased an apartment that had sucked their finances dry. In the Big Apple, they’d embarked on the dating scene, casting themselves as the fresh faces of Sex and the City, only to come out with bumps and bruises to their egos. Finally, after an especially disastrous double date and too many cosmos to count, they’d declared that New York City had won. They’d headed back home to northern Virginia to reenergize and settle into a new groove.
During that time of self-discovery, Tamara had thought she could erase her past. But she couldn’t let go; she couldn’t move forward. The young man who had intersected her life with sad brevity still haunted her years later. Deep within her heart, regret and guilt lingered. So, outwardly she pretended everything was all right and refocused her energy on the kids at the academy.
Now her best friend might as well have run off with the circus. How could she hook up with a Korean musician named G-Dragon? The scenario was laughable. Once she was done with the documentary, Tamara had all intentions to intervene, even if Becky pitched a fit.
Unlike Becky, she could work and be around a man without falling for him. Grant may be a hottie. He may have a drop-dead gorgeous smile. He definitely could make her blush with his lovemaking skills. But she could take the witness stand that she had no deep feelings for him. Because whatever feelings stirred to life at the thought or sight of him couldn’t possibly be attributed to falling in love.
Chapter 10
Three weeks later, after much haggling over what would be covered in the minidocumentary on Benson Technologies, the film production had officially begun. Grant watched the film crew march in and take over his house. Tamara was nowhere in sight, which raised his anxiety level. Maybe it was a good thing for her that she was unreachable. This disruption was beyond anything she had described. So much for her Excel spreadsheet filled with false information.
A bulky lighting device hit his living room wall as two men struggled unsuccessfully to maneuver through the area. Recent rain showers had softened the dirt outside, and now the crew was tracking in mud on his wood floor. Grant swore with a ferocity that caused a lull in nearby conversations. His patience had withered down to a frail thread promising to snap at any moment.
To the workers’ credit, they apologized profusely, but Grant only raised his hand to signal that all was okay. Whenever he passed, they’d stop what they were working on to apologize. By the third round of apologies, Grant had had enough. Instead of using the path through the living room, he took a longer way around to avoid their penitence.
“Mr. Benson, if I may have a moment,” said a young woman in a crisp suit. “While the crew sets up, let’s run through the interview.”
“Sure.” He turned his attention to the young lady, who was looking efficient with a writing pad in hand.
“Tamara said we should go with a soft look. Could you change out of the black shirt and go with a pastel polo shirt?”
“But this is what I wear to work. It’s my uniform. Everyone knows that I wear black on black and black athletic shoes.” He kicked out his foot to show the proof.
“This isn’t just a run-of-the-mill story, Mr. Benson.” Her voice dropped a tone as if she was addressing a wayward child on the playground. “The wardrobe is important for the visual impact.”
“Ah, Wendy, I’ll take this from here.” Tamara walked up and interjected herself between him and the woman. “I promise to bring him back in one piece and dressed in the right clothing.”
“Is that so?” he growled, less from irritation and more from wanting her. They had had small meet-ups, a mixture of romantic dates and torrid sexual throw downs, but those were frustrating because they were both busy and it was difficult to squeeze in real quality time to see each other. Now just the sight of her made him both aroused and crabbier than before.
Passionate Game (Kimani Hotties) Page 11
