by Zuri Day
Jeremiah’s hand might have caught Lyric’s attention. But the gorgeous specimen of a man standing next to him was what held it.
He looked to be the same height as Jeremiah. That put him somewhere a little above six feet tall. His skin was the color of tanned oak, with an inviting golden hue that called out to her. His dark curls were cropped low with a sharp edge at his hairline and his temples. She’d always loved to see a man edged out to precision. But on him, it looked so good it tempted her to reach out and run the pads of her fingers over his hair.
He had high cheekbones and full lips that looked like they could render a woman needy and begging for the joy they could bring her.
With his tuxedo hanging perfectly on his striking form, he was the very picture of masculine beauty that kept her thinking things no self-respecting widow would allow to cross her mind.
That time in your life is over, Lyric. Don’t let a set of thick lips and cute dimples take your focus off the prize.
She gave herself a mental shake as she joined the men, trying to keep her attention on the safe and familiar Jeremiah instead of his companion.
“Hey, J.”
“Hey, Lyric.” He leaned down and gave her a quick peck on her cheek before turning to the stranger standing next to him.
“Lyric, this is my boy Josiah Manning. Josiah, this is Lyric Devereaux-Smith. She’s our family celebrity.”
She cut her eyes at Jeremiah before extending her hand to Josiah. She expected him to shake it, but he gently hooked his fingers beneath hers and brought her knuckles to his mouth. Never once taking his eyes off her, he pressed a delicate kiss on her skin.
“It’s lovely to meet you, Lyric.” His voice was like cognac, spicy and rich, filling her with decadent warmth.
“It’s lovely to meet you, too.”
Jeremiah cleared his throat, tossing her a knowing glance over the drink he had strategically placed in front of his mouth.
“Speaking of lovely.” Jeremiah stepped back to take in the sight of her. “You are wearing that outfit, Lyric. Between you and Trey, I’m gonna be busting heads all night.”
“I just met Trey. How’s she taking all of this in? It can’t be easy for her to deal with all of this pomp and circumstance.”
Jeremiah shrugged. “She’s handling it like a Devereaux, walking straight into the fire with no hesitation. But like I said, between you and her, I gotta keep my eyes open tonight. As a matter of fact, I need to check on her now. Josiah—” he pointed toward his friend “—why don’t you keep Lyric company for a bit? At least I know I can trust you around her. Right?”
“Absolutely.” Josiah never took his eyes off Lyric as he answered. Something powerful and intense flashed in his eyes, leaving Lyric unsure if he was a would-be protector or predator. But either way his acute stare kept her feet planted to the ground and her gaze locked with his.
Jeremiah gave her another quick peck on the cheek, breaking Josiah’s spell and giving her a chance to gather her wits.
“Is he always that overprotective?” Josiah asked when he and Lyric were alone.
Lyric glanced briefly at Jeremiah’s retreating form and smiled. “Jeremiah and I came to the Devereaux family at the same time. I was a twenty-year-old bride to Ace’s nephew, Randall, and he was Ace’s sixteen-year-old ward. We kind of bonded as outcasts, helping each other find our place in the family. Since Randall’s passing two years ago, he’s kept an eye out for me. He’s never overbearing, but I always know he’s there if I need him.”
Compassion softened Josiah’s chiseled features as he leaned against the bar, inching closer to her. “You have my condolences. I can’t imagine experiencing that loss was easy.”
It had been two years since Randall had left this world, and this was the first time she’d heard someone say that and not wanted to crumble into a broken pile of jagged pieces on the floor.
“Thank you,” she replied as she dropped her gaze, needing a moment to pull herself together. “It wasn’t. But with family like Jeremiah around, I didn’t have to battle the worst of it on my own. Now I’m in a much better place and doing my best to embrace all that life has to offer.”
“It’s funny that you say that,” he responded. “As luck would have it, I’m actually here to make an offer of sorts to you myself.”
She lifted her brow and stepped back, putting some much-needed distance between them. She was pretty certain Jeremiah would never leave her in the presence of a sleazy jerk with bad pickup lines. But just in case she needed an out, she created some space for herself.
He chuckled, putting his hands up. “I promise, it’s not that kind of proposition. This is all business.”
He summoned the bartender, giving her a chance to watch him without the pull of his gaze on her. His carved jawline was clean-shaven, his mouth and chin covered by a thin mustache and goatee that put those gorgeous thick lips on display. His shoulders were broad and solid, and this close to him, she could see the bulge of his defined arms stretching the fabric of his tuxedo. And his hair, it wasn’t a simple edged-up low cut like she’d thought. No, he had soft waves that started at the crown of his head and went all the way forward to his hairline. She once again felt the urge to run her fingers over it.
Don’t you dare touch that man’s hair.
He turned around just in time to see her putting her polite veneer in place. She offered him a pleasant smile as the bartender handed them each a glass of champagne.
“Are we celebrating?”
“Of course,” he answered.
“What exactly?”
“First, me having the good fortune of meeting such a lovely woman. Second, that this same woman and I are going to make daytime television history.”
He lifted his glass and clinked it against hers as she stood there with her head tilted and gaze narrowed on him.
“I’m not exactly sure what any of that means.”
He nodded. “I’m sorry. I sometimes get ahead of myself when I can already see the triumphant end to a fabulous story. Let me start at the beginning.”
He took another sip of his champagne before continuing. “I’m Josiah Manning, the owner and executive producer of Kings Creative Production Company. I produce daytime television programming that often takes a more modern and Afrocentric direction with storytelling and casting.”
She took a slow sip of her drink, needing a moment to digest what he’d said.
“Kings? You’re located in what used to be that empty lot at the very end of Linden Boulevard in East New York. That space was abandoned for as long as I can remember, and then you came in. Your studio brought much-needed jobs and an influx of money into that area without tipping the balance into gentrification.”
His eyes widened, as if he hadn’t expected her to know anything about his business.
“Yeah, that’s me.” His answer was simple. She couldn’t tell if he was being modest or succinct. Either way, he’d done what many new businesses in poverty-stricken areas of Brooklyn had failed to: renewed the neighborhood without erasing the beauty of the people and culture that lived there.
“Did you name your company Kings because you think of yourself as one, or because we’re in Kings County?”
He winked at her before taking another sip of his drink, and the amount of sexy confidence dripping off him made her tighten her grip on her own glass.
She cleared her throat, glancing down inside her glass in an attempt to break the spell he was weaving over her. “Your business…it sounds intriguing. But I fail to see what it has to do with me.”
He leaned against the bar, and she had a hard time keeping her eyes from dipping down to watch the confident smile spread across those kissable lips.
“I’ve got a killer lineup for the fall season on PBN. I just need a powerhouse in that eleven-to-twelve spot to go up against The View over on ABC. You
, Ms. Devereaux-Smith, you are the star I want for this particular role.”
“You can’t be serious. This has to be the most elaborate pickup line I’ve ever heard.”
He sat his glass down on the bar as he stared at her. The smile he wore slipped from his face as he stood tall, commanding her attention.
“I never joke about work, Lyric.” His voice spilled over her like a medicinal elixir, soothing long-forgotten aches. “You are an amazing YouTube and Instagram influencer. Every video and picture you post goes viral. If we took your YouTube and Instagram content and used it as a basis for a beauty, fashion and lifestyle daytime talk show, we’d have a clear hit on our hands.”
Her amusement dissipated as she listened to his elevator pitch. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Of course I am.”
“But what makes you think my success as a social media influencer would necessarily mean anyone would care what I have to say on television?”
“You tell people who they are or who they want to be is more than good enough. You encourage them to set their own standards. In a world and an industry that tells people they have to look, live and love a certain way, you tell them, ‘Screw that. Do you.’ And believe it or not, there are more people in the world than you think that need that kind of message. We could create something life-changing, Lyric. All I need you to do is sign on as my host. What do you say?”
She stood dumbstruck with her mouth open and her eyes blinking, shocked at all the words that had fallen out of this man’s mouth. What he was offering was an incredible opportunity, and it would probably catapult her career into a new stratosphere. How on earth could she turn that down?
“No,” she answered. “I say no.”
Copyright © 2021 by Laquette R. Holmes
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ISBN-13: 9780369708373
Inconvenient Attraction
Copyright © 2021 by Zuri Day
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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