by Donna Hill
He poured himself a cup and returned to his desk. “So, let me hear your thoughts about last night.”
“I thought it went off without a hitch.” She handed over the copies of the early reviews.
He briefly glanced at them, nodding and smiling before setting them aside. “I wanted to thank you for all of your help. Raven was a difficult client to handle, but you made it work.”
“Thank you.”
He was quiet for a moment. “I want to host a private gathering at my place in the Poconos for some of my clients in two weeks. It will be for the entire weekend.”
“Okay. Do you know who you want to invite?”
“I’ll put the list of names together and get it to you so you can begin contacting them.” He took a sip of his coffee. “I want to use MT Management again.”
She didn’t respond.
“How do you feel about that?”
“Why should I feel one way or the other?” she said, a bit more harshly than she intended.
“Look, I’m sorry for how things turned out between us. I shouldn’t have led you on all this time, let you think that it could be more than what it was. But you have to know that I do care about you, Brenda, at least as much as I’m capable of caring for anyone. You’re an incredible woman. I never wanted to hurt you and I hope that what happened with us isn’t going to interfere with us continuing to work together, especially since you’ve made it clear that…we can’t have what we once did.”
“What about Mia? Did you only care about her as much as you were capable of caring for anyone?”
He glanced away. “Maybe more than that. But she left me, and with good reason.” He sighed heavily. “After that I haven’t been able to commit myself to anyone. So…this has nothing to do with you.”
“I was just a replacement,” she challenged.
He didn’t respond.
“I guess that’s my answer.” She got up. “I need to get some work started on the Pocono event. I’ll work with Mia to put it together.” She turned to leave.
“Brenda…”
Her hand stilled on the knob of the door.
“I’m sorry.”
She straightened her shoulders and walked out.
Within the hour Michael e-mailed her the list of ten men he wanted to invite to the gathering. Even Traci was impressed. She immediately e-mailed the list to Mia. It was up to her now.
Mia was thinking about the information that Traci had e-mailed to her earlier as she prepared dinner. The guest list was staggering. If this final sting panned out, it would rock the city. The list included Senator Max Hopkinson, who was currently running for reelection; CEO Carl Ruthers, founder of Ruthers Technology and the man who had single-handedly revolutionized identity-scanning systems worldwide; and Breck Hamilton, the chairman of Backstreet Records, among others. She couldn’t begin to imagine the fallout.
She put two handfuls of mixed greens into the colander, rinsed them then tossed them into a teal-and-white-colored ceramic mixing bowl that she’d picked up on a business jaunt in Mexico a couple of years earlier and began adding her ingredients. She’d already grilled a fresh piece of salmon, which she began to slice into slender pieces. She would add this as the final topping.
The wine was chilled. She had showered and applied body lotion in Steven’s favorite scent. She’d slipped into a brand-new Victoria’s Secret teddy in a shimmering hot pink that did wonderful things to her skin.
She put the salmon salad in the fridge to chill just a bit, cleaned her fingers—first with lemon juice, followed by warm water and soap, to get rid of the fish smell—then hurried into the living room to lower the lights and put on a CD of the Dells’ greatest hits to be followed by her favorite, Luther. But she was pretty sure they’d never be sitting around long enough to actually hear it.
Several small aromatic candles burned in strategic places around the room, enveloping the space in the soft scent of lavender.
Mia took a look around, satisfied with her setup. She planned to give Steven the loving that he deserved and that she wanted. Being with him, being a part of him, seemed to help exorcise Michael from her system and keep at bay the double life that she led. When she was with Steven, she could just be Mia, the neurotic, quirky event planner who refused to wear her glasses. And that was okay.
She smiled at the thought. It had taken almost making a fatal mistake with Michael, having his true side and her own weakness revealed to her for her to realize what it was that she already had. Michael was a fantasy, a passion from her past. Steven was her here, her now and her tomorrow.
As she toweled off her hands, she heard the front door open. She tossed the towel onto the counter, grabbed the wine from the bottom of the fridge, along with the two long-stemmed wineglasses, and met Steven just as he was putting down the briefcase that held his laptop. That’s when he spotted the hot-pink beauty in the archway of the kitchen that opened onto the dining and living-room area. He also noticed the low lights, the heady scent of jasmine and the dark look in his woman’s eyes.
The corner of his mouth rose ever so slightly. He shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on the coatrack near the closet door. He moved slowly in her direction, as she posed provocatively against the frame of the archway with the two glasses swinging from her hand.
“Hey, handsome,” she said, her voice soft and inviting.
Steven walked up to her. “Hey, yourself.” He took the bottle from her hand, leaned down and kissed her softly. He uncorked the bottle. She held out the glasses and he poured.
They touched glasses and took their first sip before they both turned to the sound of the Dells’ “Stay in My Corner.”
Steven tossed his head back and laughed, then looked down into Mia’s teasing gaze. “You know that’s the jam.”
He took the glass from her hand, set his down, along with the bottle of wine, then slipped his arm around her silken waist, pulling her up against him. “Can I have this dance?”
“I’d love to,” she whispered.
They moved to the center of the living room and fell into perfect step with each other, swaying to the serious old-school love song. Mia rested her head on Steven’s chest as he held her, running his hand up and down along the soft fabric, intermittently cupping her rear to pull her tighter against him.
Mia was on a natural high: the music, the aromas, the man. They all contributed to her feeling of peace, mixed with a sensual heat that made her almost light-headed with the growing need that rushed through her insides, much like the hot flame of a match tossed on kindling.
“I fixed dinner,” she murmured against his ear as the song was drawing to its hip-grinding last note, which made the standard a favorite among generations of slow dancers.
“We can bring it inside,” he said, nibbling on her neck. He stroked her back, running his hand along the curve of her hip.
“We could. Why don’t you get settled and I’ll serve you dinner in bed.”
“Loving the sound of that.” He kissed her and headed off toward the back of the condo.
Moments later, Mia heard the sound of running water. She returned to the kitchen, took out the salad, got plates and silverware and placed them all on the large serving tray that they used when they ate in bed. She added linen napkins, two clean glasses and the bottle of wine. Balancing it all like a professional, she took it to their bedroom and set it all on the side table. She turned back the blanket, fluffed the pillows and dimmed the lights.
Looking around with her hands on her hips, she was satisfied with the ambience.
Michael stepped out of the adjoining bathroom, followed by a rush of steam. He had a towel wrapped around his waist and was drying off his hair and face with another one. When he pulled the towel away from his face, his eyes lit up.
“Woman, you sure know how to welcome a man home from a hard day’s work.”
Mia sat on the side of the bed, her long legs crossed at the knee. “I try.” She patted the space next to her. St
even didn’t need to be invited twice. He read her body language very well.
Once he was next to her, she lifted a forkful of the salmon salad to his lips. “Taste.”
His eyes closed in what looked like ecstasy. “Hmm, delicious.” He chewed slowly.
“Here, have a sip.” She held up the glass of wine to his lips.
He took a long swallow, removed the glass from her fingers. He reached around her and filled a fork with the salad and fed her, then offered her a sip of wine.
The entire ritual of feeding each other, the submissiveness of allowing yourself to be fed, and the dominance of being the provider was an intoxicating, sensory turn-on for them both, as the positions of power and vulnerability shifted back and forth between them.
When the food and most of the wine was gone and their roles had blurred, all they wanted to feast on was each other.
Tonight Mia was feeling her feminine power, and as much as she loved Steven taking the lead, tonight was her night. She removed their plates and glasses, setting them back on the tray. She stood in front of him as he gazed up at her, trying to anticipate what she might do.
She reached down and loosened the towel around his waist, then instructed him to take it off and sit back down. When he was seated and she eyed his steadily growing erection, she took the first strap and then the other of her teddy and pushed them down her shoulders and shimmied out of it, allowing the fabric to float into a pink pool at her feet. She stepped over it, draped her legs on either side of Steven’s hard thighs. She clasped the back of his head and pulled him flush against the softness of her stomach, allowing him to momentarily inhale the scent that he loved.
She took his hands and lifted them to her breasts, which demanded to be fondled.
Steven cupped them, their ripeness overflowing his palms. He allowed his thumbs to gently graze back and forth across her nipples, the way he knew she liked it.
Mia moaned. For a moment her eyes closed, as she gave in to the sensual delight that fired through her veins. As he caressed her, she slowly lowered herself onto his hardened shaft, which was pointing toward heaven. As she slid down on the hot thickness of him, her mind spun, her belly was on fire, her heart pumped as she felt her insides open up to welcome him.
She enveloped him to the hilt and, as always, it took a moment for her body to adjust to the solid rock hardness of him, which seemed to grow thicker with every beat of her heart, taking her breath away.
Steven grabbed a handful of her behind in each palm, his mouth replacing where his hands once were.
Mia cried out his name, wrapped her hands around his neck, planted the balls of her feet solidly on the floor and rode him like a seasoned rodeo rider, making Steven holler with pleasure.
Later, they rested in a tangle of sheets and limbs, talking softly to each other about their workday, when Steven sprang his surprise.
“This is the kind of time we need to spend together,” he began.
“Hmm, umm,” she mumbled against his chest. She ran a manicured finger down the center.
“I know we are both crazy busy with work, so I figured the only real alone time we’re going to have is if we get away somewhere.”
Her eyes opened slowly.
“That’s why I went ahead and got us two tickets for a Bahamas weekend getaway, everything included. I knew if we kept talking about when we have some free time to do something, it would never happen. So I got us tickets for two weeks from now. We leave on Thursday and come back on Sunday. That will give us both some time to prepare staff, get anything important out of the way.”
“Weekend after next?” She was paying attention now.
“Yep, all paid for.”
Mia’s stomach knotted. It was the same weekend as the Poconos. What the hell was she going to do?
Chapter 21
Mia barely slept. Her eyes were wide-open when the sun crested the horizon. All she could think about all night was her dilemma. How damn Twilight Zone was it that Steven had bought tickets to the Bahamas for the same freaking weekend as Michael’s getaway weekend for his “special” friends. Her eyes felt as if someone had shoveled sand under her lids, but she couldn’t lie in bed a minute longer.
While Steven was still sound asleep, she tiptoed into the kitchen with her cell phone pressed to her chest and, checking to make sure he hadn’t awakened, she dialed the girls, leaving urgent messages on all their cell phones. They needed an emergency meeting ASAP.
Mia did all she could not to push Steven out the door. Today of all days he wanted to linger, talk, make love again…and again. Any other time, she would have been all for it, but she had cases to crack and people to see.
Sometime during the night it had rained. The streets were still wet, with water pooling in the numerous indentations of New York City sidewalks and streets. By the time she reached her car, which she’d parked on the next block, she felt as if she’d completed the Olympic hurdles. Her condo had a parking facility attached to the building—and well it should, for all the money the tenants shelled out—but she’d never bothered to take advantage of it, especially during the spring and summer. Parking around the corner or down the block gave her a chance to get in her minimal amount of exercise. Steven had practically begged her to use the parking garage, especially because she had so many late nights, but she’d been adamant. The winter would be there soon enough, she’d explained, and she would be forced to park in the garage and take the elevator, and so that would bring an end to her meager attempt at fitness.
Once behind the wheel, she turned on the radio to keep her company and to keep her mind off her newest dilemma. The Steve Harvey Morning Show was on, and one of the hosts was tearing into some poor soul about discovering that her man had a whole other family on the other side of a very small town in North Carolina.
Mia just shook her head and chuckled. If only she could write to Steve about her ongoing drama. She’d pay good money to hear what he had to say about it. He’d probably tell her that she was lying about the whole mess.
What she really needed was Danielle and Savannah’s input. They’d always given her sound advice and now that they knew the whole story, she was sure they’d be objective. She’d even invited Ashley, whose personality was a nice fit for their group. The fact that she, too, was a Cartel member only strengthened the bond.
Unfortunately, bad weather brought out the worst drivers. They suddenly became totally inept at moving from point A to point B with any degree of speed. The ultimate result was that Mia’s fifteen-minute ride turned into a half hour of stop and go.
Finally, she reached The Shop and, shock of all shocks, Danielle, the queen of “Janie Come Lately,” had actually arrived first and was holding down their favorite booth. She really must be off her game, Mia thought as she moved toward the table, especially if Danielle of all people was the first to arrive anywhere. Maybe the moon was in Aquarius or something.
“Hey, girl, what in the hell are you doing here so early?” She sat down and slid across the booth on her side until she reached the end. She placed her purse between her and the partition.
“I’m trying to turn over a new leaf,” Danielle confessed. “Being early, less cussing, listening before speaking, being considerate of others.” She took a sip of tea.
Mia sat there with her eyes wide with disbelief. “You’re kidding me, right?”
Danielle made a face. “No. For real.”
“Why?” Mia asked, totally perplexed. “We’re already used to you being a tactless, late, pain in the neck, supersweet friend. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”
“I think that was some kind of compliment, but I’m not sure.”
“Did Nick get on you about something?”
“No. Actually during a photo shoot, one of the product placement items was this book, Twenty Days to a Better You. During the break I checked it out and figured, why not?” She shrugged lightly.
“Hmm. How’s it going so far?”
“Got me her
e early.” She grinned. “But it’s too soon to tell. Somebody piss me off and it’s on.”
They laughed just as Savannah and Ashley pushed through the door, both shaking out their umbrellas. A flash of lightning was followed by a roll of thunder.
“Damn, I thought this kind of weather was reserved for April,” Savannah groused as she kissed cheeks, slid out of her raincoat and sat down.
“Hey, y’all,” Ashley greeted them. She fluffed her fro and hung her jacket on the back of the booth chair. She turned to Mia. “So what’s up and who’s paying for breakfast?”
“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Danielle said. “I knew I liked you for a reason. Straight, no chaser.”
“Well, since I called the meeting, I guess I’ll pay for breakfast,” Mia said. She flitted her hand around the table, as if sprinkling fairy dust. “But everyone choose something different. That way I can charge it as a business expense.” She grinned.
Danielle and Savannah shook their heads. Mia was notorious for finding creative ways to use her business account.
“So, sister girl, what’s the story?” Savannah asked.
Mia drew in a long breath then leaned forward. “Well, you all know that Michael is planning a private party.”
Nodding heads all around.
“Last night—”
“What can I get you ladies this morning?” the waitress asked, cutting Mia off.
They each placed their orders—everything from egg-white omelets to Belgian waffles. Once the waitress was gone, Mia continued.
“Steven and I…well, we had a fantastic night.” She blushed and the girls humm-ummed her, knowing just what she meant. “So afterward we were lying there, and I’m thinking, ‘Yes, this is where I want to be, where my heart is,’ ya know, and he starts telling me that we really need more time like this together without a lot of distractions…blah, blah, blah. So I’m all for it. Sounding really good, right. Then BAM. He drops an atom bomb. He got us two round-trip tickets to the Bahamas.”
