Be My Hope: A BWWM Romance (Make It Marriage Book 7)

by Nia Arthurs

  “What? No! Absolutely not.”

  Lies.

  I did dress up.

  But it’s not to impress Brett.

  It’s to resist him.

  After our conversation last night, I realized that I might have crossed the line.

  Whenever I’m around him, I…

  It’s like my brain goes blank. Like I lose myself.

  So I came prepared today. Nothing makes me feel more confident than a put-together outfit.

  I tore through my room this morning. Searched every nook and cranny. Dove way to the back of my closet.

  And found this.

  A flattering power-suit ensemble a la Kayla Montgomery.

  My boss rocks these all the time.

  I figured I could too.

  Consider it an armor. A battle shield of sorts.

  This suit screams ‘I’m here for business’ not ‘I want your hands all over me’.

  I want to convey the right message.

  We're going to dinner.

  To discuss his future wife.

  That’s it.

  “Most billionaires are really casual,” Kayla says in a kind voice. “You don’t have to over-do it to impress them.”

  Venus smirks. “She should know. Since she’s sleeping with one.”

  “Married.” Kayla lifts her ring finger.

  I lift a hand to shade my face, blind from the bling. All these women are brandishing some hefty stones on their fingers. Geez.

  “So how’d it go with McQueen?” Amina leans forward. “Did he shoot you down?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “I doubt he’d let you close enough to say no,” Kayla says.

  Venus snags the bag of pastries from Amina. “You know him personally, Kay?”

  “He’s friends with Brendon.”

  “Of course he’s part of the secret billionaire club.” Venus laughs. “I should have guessed.”

  “Troy’s a part of that club too, you know,” Kayla says.

  Venus rolls her eyes.

  “Anyway,” Kayla swats at Venus and takes the pastry bag from her, “Brendon says that Brett is cutthroat. Like really, really intense.”

  “Why? Is he afraid to lose his money or something?” Venus snorts.

  “It’s because he started from nothing.”

  “I read about that,” I say thoughtfully. “His family had it really hard.”

  “Both his parents were alcoholics so they weren’t any help. Brett had to grow up fast. His sister? The one who died recently? He took care of her all by himself. Basically, he had to be both parents.”

  I chew on my bottom lip.

  No wonder he and Sharon were so close. No wonder he didn’t hesitate to beat her ex to a pulp for his callous comments.

  They were all each other had.

  Though I’d read about most of his history in Brett’s Wikipedia, hearing Kayla discuss how much he’s respected in his circles makes me feel even prouder of how much Brett’s accomplished on his own.

  “This is really important, Tierra.” Kayla meets my eyes. “I didn’t allow you to take on this case because Sharon paid triple or because Brett is so high profile. I did it because Brett McQueen deserves our help and Sharon chose you to deliver it.”

  I pick at invisible lint. “I know.”

  “I hope you realize how much trust I’m putting in you.”

  “I do.” I glance away. Swallow hard.

  It’s like Kayla knows the kind of thoughts I’ve been having about Brett. Like she can sense the attraction. The camaraderie.

  She’s putting a stop to it before it even begins.

  “I won’t let you down,” I add.

  I won’t let him down either.

  It’s a silent promise.

  No more muddying the waters.

  No more crossed lines.

  This is business, pure and simple.

  “Good.” Kayla pats my shoulder. “By the way, I’ve been planning a ‘welcome to the team’ party and I wanted you to—” She clamps her lips together, eyes bugging and a hand slung around her stomach as she stops mid-sentence.

  Venus jumps in concern. “Kayla?”

  “Are you alright?” Amina asks.

  Kayla makes a retching sound and slaps a hand over her mouth.

  “Kayla?”

  She rushes out of the room.

  Venus tears after her.

  “Is she okay?” I wring my hands.

  Amina checks Brew Drop’s paper bag. “Was it the pastries?”

  “I don’t think so. I buy their stuff all the time and it’s always high quality.”

  Amina casts me a worried look. “I should go check on her.”

  “Wait,” I call. “About Brett…”

  “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine. Just focus on acing this case. A lot of eyes will be on you.” She wiggles a finger. "So don’t screw it up.”

  “Got it.”

  Amina juts her chin at the hallway. “I’ll go see how Kayla’s doing.”

  “Let her know I’ll be here if she needs anything.”

  Amina shuffles away.

  I close my door.

  A few minutes later, I get a text from Venus letting me know that Kayla’s gone home. I thank her for the update and then throw my focus into work.

  The day flashes by.

  When I glance up again, the sun’s about to set and shadows dance around my office.

  My phone buzzes.

  It’s Brett.

  He sent the directions.

  I’m glad I didn’t follow him up when he suggested sending a car for me. That would have raised more than a few eyebrows.

  Really. Why would a client send a car for his matchmaker?

  I shudder to think of what Kayla, Amina or Venus would say if they found out he was even entertaining that idea.

  It doesn’t matter. You’re going to course-correct now.

  I toss the files I need to discuss with Brent into my purse and close my fingers around the handles. With a decisive nod, I march out of the Make It Marriage building and hurry into a cab.

  After giving directions, I sit back and watch the city dash by.

  Black skies. Brilliant stars.

  Huge skyscrapers.

  The man-made towers can never choke out the sky.

  I wind the window down.

  Suck in a deep breath.

  Try to settle my frazzled nerves.

  The wind blows my thick black hair away from my face. It’s probably messing up my curls. Grabbing a ponytail, I gather the mass of my kinky hair and shove it in until I’ve tamed it into a neat and proper bun.

  There.

  I’m even more in control.

  More aloof.

  More… Brett-proof.

  The taxi lets me out in front of a giant building on the snobbier side of town.

  Glass windows. Orange lights.

  Women in designer dresses. Men in tuxes.

  So not my scene.

  I step toward the door, my heart in my throat.

  Light piano music kisses my ears. The hostess seems to recognize me before I’ve even spoken my name. She smiles brightly and gestures to a private enclave that leads to a set of stairs.

  I take them hesitantly, my heels clopping against the tiles.

  The stairs lead to an open room with walls made completely of glass. The cityscape I’d been admiring on the way here sparkles like stars I can reach out and touch.

  I drag my eyes away from the stunning view.

  Focus on the room.

  There’s a piano. Lush vegetation beautifully presented in a long box.

  A waterfall gurgles happily, providing a light, tinkling backdrop.

  There’s only one table.

  And one man sitting around it.

  My heart thumps harder in my chest.

  Brett.

  Ten

  Brett

  I came to several conclusions last night and, seeing Tierra again in person, my determination swell
s. Along with a few other things.

  She steps confidently toward the table. Eyes ringed with something dark. Lips a shade of deep, powerful red.

  A purple jacket shrouds her slender figure.

  Flowy pants taper down to her ankles.

  A picture of grace.

  Elegance.

  My fingers tighten around my wine glass. “You’re early.”

  “So are you.” She falls into the chair across the table.

  I glance down and notice the way she’s gripping her purse for dear life.

  The thought that I make her nervous pleases me.

  My voice rumbles with satisfaction. “I don’t like to waste time.”

  “Time is money?”

  “I’m not complaining.” I take a sip of my wine.

  It’s bitter on the tongue.

  Sweet to the soul.

  “No?” Tierra tilts her head.

  “I’m happy to spend that time with you.”

  Her lips tighten. So do her fingers on that purse strap.

  I smirk. “Hungry?”

  “No, actually. I was hoping we could get right to the point.” She reaches down and pulls out a file from her purse. Looking up, she adds, “Since your time is money and all that.”

  She’s distancing herself from me.

  I can feel it.

  A solid wall in my face.

  A locked door.

  Only, she doesn’t know that I’ve made my billions blasting every wall that stood in my way and charging through every door that denied me entrance.

  People like me don’t get to where we are by being polite.

  By waiting our turn.

  By waiting.

  “Wine then.” I gesture to the sommelier.

  Tierra holds up a hand. The one with the file. “I don’t drink on the job.”

  “It’s after hours.”

  “A matchmaker is always ‘on the job’ when she’s with a client. We make our own hours.”

  “Sounds draconian. You never get time off?”

  “Not with clients.”

  I fold my fingers beneath my chin. “I see.”

  She gets straight down to business. “I made a few matches based on the preferences you shared with me yesterday.” Tierra plops the file on the desk. The tan sheet spreads against the stark white cloth.

  Disturbing.

  Out of place.

  I brush it away. “No small talk first?”

  “Nope.” Her eyebrows crash together. “None at all.”

  I lean back, a smile twitching my lips. “Come on now, T. I’m sure you can at least chit-chat. Break the ice. Something like that.” I sip my wine. “Would you be this harsh with other clients?”

  Her nose scrunches. Black eyes dart to the left.

  I can hear what she’s thinking. You’re not other clients.

  No.

  I’m not.

  And I’m glad she knows it.

  I’m glad she’s tightening up and trying to put me in my place.

  It means she felt that thing between us too.

  Wasn’t all in my head.

  One step forward, two steps back.

  I like a challenge.

  “T?”

  “My name’s Tierra.”

  My eyes steady on hers. “I know. It’s beautiful.”

  “I…” She ducks. Swallows hard.

  Slender brown fingers dive back to her purse strap.

  “Brett,” she whispers, “what are you doing?”

  “Having dinner.”

  “Exactly.” She peers at me, determination rising behind the nerves I see in her eyes. “We’re here on business. Given the man that you are, you should understand what that means.”

  I rub my fingers beneath my chin. “I’m your client, but you’re treating me like a stranger.” Tilting my head, I throw it right back at her. “You shouldn’t be so cold after everything we’ve been through.”

  “And what exactly have we been through? I just met you yesterday.” Amusement lingers beneath her words.

  “We went to a club together.”

  “Technically, you dragged me there so you could break a champagne bottle and threaten your sister’s assistant.”

  “We got into a fight together.”

  She laughs. “Not together. I slapped some guy and you ran off with me.”

  “I saved your life.”

  “I had it under control!” she shrieks, laughter ringing in her voice.

  “I’m talking about when I took care of your hand.” Feigning a serious tone, I add, “I don’t know what would have happened if I wasn’t there to buy that salve. In fact, I shudder to think of it.”

  Tierra rolls her eyes. “Fine. I’ll admit. I’m trying to shift modes. We started on a… crazy foot.”

  “Crazy? I’d say it was fun.”

  “Your definition of fun needs some tweaking.”

  The sommelier pours her wine.

  I smirk when Tierra sips of it and makes a face.

  “Not a fan?” I ask.

  She cringes. “Let’s get started.” Throwing open the file again, she selects a headshot of a beautiful blonde with bright green eyes and plump lips. They’re bigger than Tierra’s but in that strange, augmented way.

  My eyes lift to Tierra’s mouth in comparison.

  Hers is a naturally beautiful shape.

  A slight dip on the top.

  Full and succulent on the bottom.

  Damn.

  I want those lips.

  More today than I did yesterday.

  “What do you think about her?” Tierra asks, pointing at the girl.

  I jerk my gaze away from her gorgeous mouth and try to focus. “No.”

  “No?”

  I fold my arms over my chest, waiting to see her reaction.

  She delivers.

  Spectacularly.

  Eyebrow twitching, she sucks in a deep breath.

  Out.

  Back in.

  “Her?” Another blonde.

  “No.”

  “What’s wrong with her?”

  “She’s not The One.”

  “You can’t know that by a picture.”

  “Then why are you showing her picture to me?”

  She grits her teeth. “I’m not supposed to.” She lifts a hand. “I’m only doing it because I know how important appearances are to you.”

  “You make me sound shallow.”

  She arches an eyebrow you are.

  I chuckle.

  Tierra sighs. “She’s a baker who loves walks on the beach and—”

  I press my elbows to the table. “It’s still a no.”

  “Fine.” Tierra bites out.

  Her fingers shuffle through the files.

  Tosses one.

  Grabs another.

  “Here.” She slides another headshot at me.

  Another blonde.

  Blue eyes this time.

  Still, a carbon copy.

  “She’s athletic. Loves the outdoors. And the gym.” Her eyes zip to my shoulders and arms before she quickly averts her gaze, but not before I notice the flare of attraction simmering in her. “You two have a lot in common.”

  I shake my head.

  Her inhale is loud enough to wake the dead. “Brett.”

  “T.”

  “You didn’t even look at her.”

  “I did. She’s blonde.” I chuckle. “You really took that comment to heart, didn’t you?”

  “Enough.” She slaps the folder closed. “My time is just as valuable as yours, and I’d like you to respect it. These ladies are all classy, intelligent and open to finding love. I need to know if you’re going to work with me or not.”

  I stare intently at her. “I know what I want when your thirty days are over.”

  “What? We’re not even talking about—”

  “I want you.”

  Tierra blinks once.

  Twice.

  Shakes her head.

  “I’m sorry. I
must have heard you wrong. Could you repeat that? Because it sounded like—”

  “You heard me.”

  Thick eyelashes flutter. “You want… are we talking about sex?”

  “I don’t do relationships.”

  “So we are talking about hooking up. Again.”

  “Friends with benefits.”

  “A pig in a dress.”

  “We’d be exclusive.”

  “Your own personal hooker. Should I be flattered?”

  “I want you.”

  There.

  I get what I want and I don’t get hurt.

  And Tierra gets…

  “In exchange, I’ll recommend the agency to all my bachelor friends. Some very powerful social media influencers run in my circle. The moment they catch this story…” I snap my fingers. “Make It Marriage will rise like that. And you with it.”

  Her lips tighten. “So you screw me for a couple nights, throw me away, and in exchange I get a few references?”

  I stiffen. “That’s not how I would—”

  “Maybe a mention in the paper.”

  “Tierra…”

  “Or a promotion.” Her eyes lift. Fury snaps around in their brown depths like a hurricane. “Do I look like that kind of person to you?”

  “Wait…”

  Sweat beads on my neck.

  No woman has turned me down before.

  None.

  And no woman has ever looked so offended in my presence.

  I didn’t read her wrong.

  Tierra stares at me the same way I stare at her. The connection between us is hot enough to singe. So why does it feel like I just put my foot in my mouth?

  She laughs bitterly. “I wore this freaking jacket…” Brown fingers dig at the buttons of her oversized blazer. They fall off one by one. “I thought this suit would hide me from you.” The jacket comes off. “I was wrong.”

  I study her, confused.

  Amused.

  Taken aback.

  She continues to undress as her eyes spit sparks.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  That gaze of hers is sharp enough to tear my head straight off my body.

  I pissed her off. And yet her defiant expression coupled with her frantic fingers unbuttoning her top are giving me all kinds of ideas.

  “Tierra…”

  She shrugs out of her shirt until she’s in only a tank top and her long purple pants.

  Damn.

  She’s so beautiful when she’s pissed.

  Her chest heaves. Black eyes gleam like marbles.

  “What am I doing?” She strides over to me, her hips swaying. Stopping by my chair, she bends down to whisper in my ear, “I’m giving you what you want.”