by Zuri Day
“No can do, sis. I have a meeting with the distributors for the restaurants.” As the innovative VP of sales, Donovan had recently secured a lucrative contract with a midlevel restaurant chain. The Drake line would be unveiled there during the holidays.
Diamond hid her disappointment. “No worries. I’ll ask Dex.”
“He’s not here.”
“Where is he?”
“In Vegas, mixing business with pleasure. He’ll be back the day after tomorrow. Look, sis, I have another call. I’ve got to go.”
Diamond let out a sigh as she hung up the phone. She knew she was being irrational, but there was no way she was ready to face Jackson again. It was too soon after their encounter. She could still feel his hands caressing her buttocks, could still taste his lips. I’ll talk to Taylor. She can handle this. With the decision made, Diamond reached for the folder containing the advertising company’s promo of the second leg of the Drake holiday campaign beginning next month. She’d seen the ads and reviewed the commercial several times but wanted to incorporate the theme into the company’s November newsletter. Happy to take her mind off Jackson by letting her creative juices flow, Diamond dove into writing and was just hitting her groove when her intercom buzzed.
“Yes, Kat.”
“Line one, Diamond. It’s O Magazine.”
“Okay, I’ll take it. Thanks.” Diamond punched the flashing white light. “Diamond Drake.” Thirty minutes later, she sat stunned yet excited. O Magazine wanted to do a four-page spread on Drake Wines Resort & Spa and not only that but the queen of daytime talk was planning a visit, the filming of which could end up as a special on OWN. She squealed, and after sharing the news with Kat, she walked to her father’s office.
“Dad! You’ll never guess what just happened.”
Donald looked up from the report he was reading, looking very much the part of a successful company COO. “No, but I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”
“We’re going to be featured in O Magazine!” She relayed what the magazine editor had shared with her, including the fact that Oprah Winfrey wanted to visit their vineyard during the holiday season.
“That’s great news, honey,” Donald said. “When is this supposed to take place?”
“That’s the one tiny hitch in the giddyup,” Diamond said. “They want to feature us in one of their summer issues, which means the shoot and interviews can happen no later than January or February.”
“Well, having been opened a couple months at that point, we should have everything in place.”
“I think so, but I’m even more determined to finish the construction on schedule so that we can focus on interior design.” Diamond’s eyes narrowed with a realization. In order to make sure the renovation was finished and the interior design flawless, she’d have to stay more involved in the renovation than she’d planned. There was no way she’d be able to avoid Jackson—at least for the next four weeks. “I’ve got a meeting tomorrow night with Jackson and Taylor. Now, along with the last-minute changes we’ve proposed, I need to let them know that we’ll need to implement those changes and complete this project by the third week in November. No excuses, no exceptions.”
“That’s only four weeks away. Can we do it?”
“We’ll have to—even if it means increasing the budget to double the crews.”
“Well, baby girl, if anybody can make it happen, it’s you.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“One more thing, Diamond.”
“Yes, Dad.”
“Since you’re working late tomorrow night, try and take some time off later this week. You’re becoming a workaholic, like your old man.”
“All right, Dad. I’ll think about it.” As Diamond left her father’s office, she felt confident that everyone would rise to the challenge and make this new deadline. She only wished she were as certain that she could behave herself at the meeting tomorrow night…and keep her hands off Jackson.
Chapter 10
The next evening, Diamond arrived at the restaurant on schedule and quickly found a parking space near the building. She wore her power business suit, and, while she’d convinced herself that this had nothing to do with whom she was meeting, she’d freshened her makeup and sleeked down the short do she was still getting used to.
The waiter led her to the table that Jackson occupied. He stood as she approached. “Ms. Drake.”
“All right, Jackson.” She sat. “You may call me Diamond.”
“As you wish.” Jackson sat, as well. “But you very much look like Ms. Drake right now, up to that sleek hairstyle and down to your sexy heels. I really like your hair short like that. It looks good.”
The waiter interrupted. “Would you like to place a drink order?”
“We’re waiting for another person,” Diamond quickly replied, thinking that the last thing she needed was alcohol. This man’s looks alone made her feel tipsy. I’ve got to keep my wits about me.
“While we wait, I think I’ll have a glass of cabernet,” Jackson said. Mr. Bravado concealed the nervousness he hadn’t felt since he’d asked Misty Adams to meet him behind the skating rink: a request that had ended in his loss of virginity. There was something about Diamond Drake that brought out his chivalry and need to protect, along with every insecurity he’d ever known. “Would you like one, Diamond?”
“I’ll take a glass of sparkling water with lemon slices.” She quickly shifted the focus to business. “Did Taylor forward the ideas we discussed last week?”
Jackson nodded. “I had my architect draw up some diagrams to present. As soon as… Ah, here she is.” Jackson stood as Taylor approached the table. Both he and Diamond immediately noticed her demeanor. “Are you okay?”
“No,” Taylor said, sitting quickly. “I don’t know what it is about this project and disturbing phone calls, but I got another just now as I was parking my car. My dad was en route to meet some friends for dinner. There was an accident.”
Jackson’s brow creased.
“Taylor,” Diamond said, placing a hand on Taylor’s arm. “Is he all right?”
“We don’t know,” Taylor replied, shaking her head. “Yes, I’d like a glass of your top-shelf merlot, please,” she said to the waiter who approached their table. And then back to Diamond, she said, “My sister called on her way to the hospital. We’re trying to stay optimistic at this point.”
“Taylor, we’ll totally understand you having to leave this meeting.” Jackson’s voice was filled with concern. “You must be worried sick.”
“Our family’s pretty dramatic,” Taylor said with a nervous laugh. “It could be a fender bender and an APB would still be sent out to all corners of the globe.” The waiter arrived, and Taylor took a healthy gulp from her wineglass. The trio passed on appetizers for the moment and instead tried to focus on work. But it wasn’t meant to be. A couple minutes later, Taylor’s phone rang. She nodded as she listened to the person on the other end of the phone. “That’s good news, but I still want to see him,” she said. After hanging up the phone, she began gathering the items she’d placed on the table. “That was my sister. Dad is going to be fine. There were no internal or life-threatening injuries. But there’s still no way I can concentrate tonight,” she said to Diamond with an apologetic smile. “So sorry to have to run out on you guys, but I’m the consummate daddy’s girl.”
“I totally understand,” Diamond said, knowing that if she’d heard that her father was in an accident, she’d feel the same way. “I’m glad to know that it wasn’t more serious.”
When Taylor stood, Jackson did, as well. “Sorry to hear about your father, but I, too, am very glad he’s okay.”
“Thanks, Jackson.”
“And when you see your father, give him a hug.”
Taylor smiled at Jackson. “I sure will.”
Jackson and Diamond watched Taylor rush out of the restaurant. When he sat, Jackson’s mood was somber. They ordered appetizers and tried to continue the meeting, but his mind was obviously elsewhere. “Maybe we should continue this discussion another time,” Diamond finally said.
“Sorry,” Jackson replied. “The news that Taylor received—and the way she received it—hit close to home.”
Diamond was used to seeing cockiness and swagger when she looked at Jackson. But now she saw something else—vulnerability. “Do you want to talk about it?”
For a while, it seemed as though Jackson’s answer was no. When he began speaking, his voice was low, his eyes downcast. “I lost the people who raised me almost seven years ago,” he said, idly fingering the water glass before him. “It was a car wreck.”
Jackson looked at Diamond. Her heart clenched at the pain she saw in his eyes. “Oh, Jackson, that must have been terrible.”
Jackson nodded, remembering experiences that had been equally as devastating: his mother’s drug use, for instance, and his brushes with the law. “A drag-racing teenager killed my aunt Evie and uncle John, who’d built the construction company I own from the ground up. He taught me almost everything I know, especially how to be a man. Had it not been for my uncle’s influence, my life would probably look very different from what it does now.”
“And someone called you about their accident?”
“I was in a club partying, getting my groove on when I got the call that changed my life.” Jackson sat back in the booth, looked beyond Diamond into the worst day of his life. “I’d intended to visit them that day but went on an impromptu date instead.” The smile on Jackson’s face was fleeting and bittersweet. “I never got a chance for that last hug, you know? Never got to say goodbye.”
For the first time since meeting him, Diamond initiated contact. She reached over and placed a comforting hand on Jackson’s arm. “I’m sorry.”
Jackson shrugged, putting his Teflon veneer firmly back in place. “Death is a part of life.”
Diamond was silent, finding it impossible to imagine a life without Donald and Genevieve Drake. The kids often joked with their parents that they had to at least outlive Papa Dee, who was two years shy of one hundred. “Do you have siblings?”
“No.”
The dark look crossed Jackson’s face so quickly that Diamond thought she’d imagined it. It occurred to her how little she knew about Jackson Wright. But now felt like an inappropriate time for questions. She looked at her watch. “I should be going. Is there any way we can continue this meeting Thursday, at the site?”
“Can I confirm that morning? I don’t know what’s going on until Marissa tells me.”
“Marissa?”
“My assistant.”
“Oh, okay.”
Jackson smiled for the first time in several minutes. “You thought I was talking about my woman or wife?”
“No, I—”
“Ha! Yes, you did.”
There it was…that irritating chuckle. Here was the Jackson that Diamond had come to know, the one who helped her remember that she didn’t like him, wasn’t attracted to him and wasn’t interested in anything more than business when it came to him. “Look, I don’t care who Melissa—”
“Marissa, Marissa Hayes. She’s been my assistant since I took over the business six years ago.”
Is that a smile or a smirk on his face? Diamond took a surreptitious breath to calm her ire. No man had ever gotten her this hot, in anger or desire. I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of thinking he’s upset me. I’m not jealous! I couldn’t care less about Marissa! “Thanks for the company history,” Diamond nonchalantly replied in a tone that her mother, the queen of dry, would be proud of. “If you’re free, around one o’clock Thursday will work for me. If I’m not available, you can leave a message with my assistant, Kathleen Fitzpatrick. She’s been with the company for twenty years.”
With that, Diamond walked out of the restaurant with her head held high. But it was not fast enough to escape the sound of Jackson’s low, soft chuckle that tickled her back the way his fingers had three days before.
Chapter 11
“My, don’t we look lovely,” Kathleen said as soon as Diamond entered the office.
“I look the same as always, Kat.”
“It’s understandable,” Kathleen continued, her fingers flying across the keyboard and eyes glued to the screen, “since that handsome construction fellow is meeting you for lunch.”
This news stopped Diamond in her tracks. “Jackson called?” Of course, she’d hoped he would. That’s why she’d taken special care with her wardrobe and added an extra spray of perfume to the day’s preparations, her “same as always” comment notwithstanding. She’d hoped that these extra touches would come off casual and nonchalant. She wore a tan-colored pencil skirt with a billowy floral top that cinched at the waist. The neckline was tasteful yet hinted at treasures. She returned her short hair to its spiky form. It was just another day at the office—no big deal. But Kathleen had noticed. “We mentioned meeting today at one o’clock,” Diamond continued, “but we didn’t discuss lunch.”
“I assumed it would be a lunch meeting since that’s how you generally handle clients who meet between noon and two.”
“Did you mention that to him?”
“No.”
“Good. We’ll meet at the site and then, if necessary, come back to the office.”
“So I shouldn’t set up a spread in the conference room?”
“No, Kat, but thank you for asking.” Jeez, what is with this woman? Doesn’t she know that just seeing Jackson stirs up an entirely different kind of appetite?
Diamond went into her office. Four hours passed in which Diamond had no idea what she did. Floating on autopilot was an understatement. All she could think about was the dichotomy that was Jackson Wright: the superassured macho man she’d first met juxtaposed with the caring, vulnerable human being she’d glimpsed Tuesday night, after hearing the news about Taylor’s dad. Wafting through these thoughts were the memories that had rarely left her since the concert: his kiss. By the time Kathleen buzzed to let her know that Jackson had arrived, Diamond was a composed, organized, calm-looking mess.
When Jackson entered her office, Diamond came around her desk. “Hello, Jackson.”
“Ms. Drake,” Jackson replied, looking absolutely decadent in black jeans, red shirt and cowboy boots.
Cowboy boots? When it comes to Mr. Wright, will the surprises ever end?
In the most utmost act of professionalism, he reached out for a handshake. “It’s good to see you again.”
“You just saw me Tuesday night,” Diamond answered, hoping that she sounded appropriately relaxed. “Let’s set up here, at the conference table. Once I’m sure we’re on the same page, we can go to the site.” She missed Kathleen’s confused expression, having totally forgotten that mere moments ago she’d informed Kathleen that the exact opposite would occur.
Jackson followed Diamond to the area of her large L-shaped office that housed an oval conference table. While he’d vowed that unlike during other encounters he would be the “strictly business” brother Diamond said she wanted, he couldn’t help but notice how the skirt she wore cupped her luscious booty the way his hands longed to, couldn’t stop remembering how his hands felt buried in her hair. He thought of other things he’d like to bury in other places before forcing away the train of thought and the inevitable evidence of desire that would embarrass them both.
“Nice office,” he said, eating up the distance to the table with long, sure strides and placing his briefcase on the table. “Did Taylor design it?”
“No. We didn’t meet her until this renovation.
Her credentials are impeccable and awards impressive. But then again, seeing as you’re in the building profession, I might be telling you something that you already know.”
“Taylor Stevens isn’t famous yet, but in the architectural community, she’s a household name.” Jackson spread the drawings on the table as he talked. “We’ve worked together in the past, and I can tell you that these are some of the most ambitious plans I’ve seen from her.”
“Even so, we need to kick things up another notch.”
Jackson raised his brow in question.
Diamond told him about the call from O Magazine. “I’m totally in love with what we’ve planned so far. If you have any further ideas that would add to this site’s uniqueness, I’m open.”
Jackson’s eyes darkened at thoughts of the woman before him being open and in love. “Come here,” he commanded, changing the subject along with his demeanor—still professional, but with just enough sexy thrown into his voice to make Diamond’s heart skip a beat. “I want to show you how I’m going to make all of your dreams come true.”
Diamond’s breath caught in her throat. What she was dreaming about in this moment had absolutely nothing to do with Drake Wines Resort & Spa and everything to do with the man standing next to her. He evoked in her images best left forgotten, like diamond rings and wedding bells, silk dresses with shoes dyed to match. In her mind’s eye, Diamond saw Jackson sauntering down the aisle, his bow askew, that lovable, cocky smile on his face. She almost moaned aloud. Strictly professional. That’s how I roll. No colleagues or playboys. Ignoring the sudden wetness between her legs, she walked closer to where Jackson was standing.
“I propose that we install a glass ceiling, from the fireplace and front sitting area—” Jackson’s long, tapered finger slid across the paper “—all the way to here, the second sitting area where the piano bar and Stage B will be erected.”
