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The Last Little Secret

Page 3

by Zuri Day


  “He’s Trey’s father, Sam.” Danni’s voice was a whisper as well. “He shouldn’t have to find out. He should be told. The sooner the better.”

  Sam understood what was behind that last statement. Her ex, Oba, what he knew and how he could use the information if things turned ugly.

  Danielle reached out and placed a hand on Sam’s arm. “As much as you wanted to deny it, cousin, you knew this day would come. I told you it would.”

  Sam stared at the fireplace, feeling tears threaten. She watched flames dance and felt a personal inferno.

  “It all happened so fast. I was so scared back then. Your friend Joi called. We talked. She gave her brother my number. Oba reached out, then flew over. The next thing I knew I was saying I do. An admittedly hasty arrangement that at the time seemed to solve both his and my problems. I thought leaving without telling Nick was best for everyone. I planned to keep the secret for the rest of my life.”

  “I know. I’m not blaming or judging you for your choices. If anything, I feel partly responsible. I hate that I shared what Joi told me about her brother looking for a marriage of convenience to beat their egotistical brother to the throne.”

  “Don’t blame yourself. I jumped at the chance. Knowing how Nick felt about marriage, let alone children, made Oba’s proposal seem like a magical solution. That I was pregnant gave me an advantage over the other possible candidates. At the time it seemed like a win-win for everyone.”

  Sam thought back to the morning after she and Nick had been together. How he’d questioned her about birth control, asked if she was protected. She told him yes because she’d been absolutely sure at that time that she could not get pregnant. A problem with fibroids that she’d had for years. He’d worn condoms from then on, two more rounds before leaving the suite that afternoon. All except for that wild, hedonistic, incredible first romp when Trey was created.

  “You did the best that you could at the time. But when we know better, we do better.”

  Now it was Danielle who stood and began walking a hole in the rug. “This is all my fault, really.”

  Sam looked up. “Did you not hear a word of what I just said?”

  “I heard you, Sam. If I’d never heard about the prince or told Joi you were pregnant...”

  “As a wise person just told me, you did what you thought was best at the time. When we know better, we do better.”

  Danielle returned to the sofa. “What’s the best decision now? Not just for you but for Trey, even Nick? It doesn’t seem right that your ex-husband knows he’s not Trey’s father but Nick doesn’t know that he is. I know that’s advice you didn’t ask for but...”

  “No, you’re right. I can’t keep the secret forever. Nick deserves to know that he is a father and Trey needs to grow up with his dad.”

  “Does Trey ask about Oba?”

  Sam shook her head. “Trey was always a means to an end for him. He wasn’t harsh or anything—they had playful interactions. But Oba isn’t overly affectionate and was never hands-on. He also felt child-rearing was ‘the woman’s job.’” Sam used air quotes, and made a face. “Plus, he was always gone, handling royal business, or jet-setting all over the world.”

  “From everything you’ve told me about Nick’s offer, sounds like you’ll be the one jet-setting now.”

  “For sure. Designing luxury homes on beautiful islands with an unlimited budget would be a job beyond my wildest dreams.” Sam sighed, rested her head on the back of the couch. “But how can I work with Nick and not tell him about Trey? And once that happens, how could he hire me or, if I’ve taken the job, keep me on?”

  “All good questions,” Danielle said, as she stood to leave the room. “And only one way to find out.”

  Sam had just gone to bed when her phone pinged. She checked the text. Oba. Again. Danielle was right. She needed to tell Nick about Trey. But with her mother’s cancer battle draining Sam’s savings, and the rest used to flee Africa for the safety of home, she also desperately needed the job.

  Sam got little sleep that night. She was grateful that Danielle had made arrangements for Trey to join his cousins at day care again. Her husband, Scott, left just before Danielle and the kids. Sam found a yoga video online, one that focused on specific postures and deep breathing. For an hour she worked to think about nothing at all and was mostly successful. As soon as the last chime on the video sounded, however, it was like all of the thoughts and questions she’d held at bay during the workout rushed in at once.

  Would Nick be angry?

  Would he consider giving a job to someone who lied by omission, one he’d almost surely not trust?

  Would the powerful Breedloves fight to take her child?

  Could she support her son financially without them?

  Sam took a shower, then walked to her closet to dress for success. From the time she was young her mother told her, “When you look good, you feel good.” It was a lesson Sam never forgot. She flipped through the meager wardrobe she’d packed and considered a well-fitting yet respectable red dress with long sleeves and a scoop neck. She remembered yesterday’s meeting, and how Nick’s eyes had slid to her legs when she crossed them, his surreptitious glance when she’d shifted in the chair and her blouse played peekaboo. It had taken everything to act as though she hadn’t noticed. Or that muscle memory from their single rendezvous hadn’t kicked in, and caused her to clench and harden in places that should he become her boss would be totally off-limits. His charm drove her crazy and he was still as fine as forbidden fruit. But the only thing more out of the question than whether or not she should work with Nick was whether to sleep with him. That answer was a big fat irrefutable no.

  When she pulled into CANN Casino Hotel and Spa’s valet parking, Sam still hadn’t made up her mind. Time had run out before the right answer revealed itself. She entered the building, retraced her steps from the day before and decided to go with the flow. While walking through the opulent lobby, with its contemporary motif of marble, stainless steel and crystal chandeliers, her phone rang. She almost didn’t answer it. But it could be about Trey.

  “Sam Price.”

  “Hey, it’s Nick.”

  “Am I late? I’m in the lobby and—”

  “No, you’re not late. I’m hungry. I hope you don’t mind that I’ve moved our meeting to Zest, one of our restaurants. Just get on one of the upper-floor elevators. It’s got its own button.”

  “Oh, okay. I’m on my way.” Before having time to process this change of events, the sleek, fast elevator had whisked her far above the bustling metropolis below and landed her into the kind of luxury she came to enjoy as the princess of Kabata, the province her ex-husband Oba and his family had ruled for several generations. Her heartbeat quickened in anticipation.

  “Good afternoon. Welcome to Zest.”

  “Hi, I’m Sam. Samantha Price. I’m here to meet—”

  “We’ve been expecting you, Ms. Price,” the hostess said, with sparkling blue eyes and a genuine smile. “Please, come right this way.”

  Sam took in the floor-to-ceiling paneless glass that blended the clear blue sky with the room’s similarly painted ceilings and expected to be escorted into the dining area. Instead, they went along the outer hall of the smartly appointed main dining room to a series of doors along the dimly lit corridor. The hostess stopped in front of the first door on the left, tapped lightly and opened it.

  “Mr. Breedlove, Ms. Price has arrived.” She stepped back to allow Sam to enter the room. “Enjoy your meal.”

  Sam thought she’d do better at seeing Nick this time, since she’d just seen him hours before. But his handsomeness still unnerved her. His gentlemanly action of standing as she entered warmed her insides. What guy did that these days? The way his eyes swept her body touched her to the core, brought back feelings from that one single night as though it had just happened. Which was why in
that moment she knew their one-night stand was the first thing they needed to discuss.

  “Hello, Nick,” she said, holding out a stiff arm. A firm handshake was all of this man’s touch she could handle.

  “Sam, good to see you.” He motioned to a chair. “Please, have a seat. I hope you don’t mind that I moved our meeting. I’ve been here working since before seven this morning. It wasn’t until Anita reminded me of our meeting that I realized I hadn’t eaten all day.”

  “It’s no problem at all.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Sam knew why he asked. She was acting strangely, not like herself. If she was going to work with him, a possibility that was not yet decided, she’d have to pull it together.

  “Positive,” she managed, trying to relax as she spoke.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “I know that,” Nick said with a mischievous grin. “You’re still as beautiful as ever. But would you like something to eat?”

  Sam refused to be distracted by Nick’s limitless charisma. “I’m not hungry, thanks.”

  “I hope that wasn’t offensive.”

  Sam looked away from his unflinching gaze, deep chocolate orbs framed by curly black lashes. That’s how the dance that started at the party all those years ago had ended up in a luxury suite. She’d gotten lost in those eyes.

  Nick continued. “In this post-#MeToo world, we male execs have to be extra careful. But given our past friendship, well, I hope complimenting you wasn’t uncomfortable. I meant no disrespect.”

  “No worries.”

  A second later, there was a knock at the door. A white-haired server entered with a rolling tray containing glasses and a pitcher filled with pomegranate iced tea.

  “May I recommend the chateaubriand today, sir? It is exceptional.”

  Nick looked across the table. “Sam?”

  “Nothing for me, thanks.”

  The server looked at Nick. “I’ll take the chateau, Fredrich,” he said, resting against the high-backed leather chair.

  “Excellent choice,” Fredrich replied as he poured two glasses of tea. “The tenderloin comes from an award-winning ranch not far from here.” Fredrich winked at Nick, then looked at Sam.

  “If I may,” Fredrich began with a benevolent smile. “May I have the pleasure of choosing something for you, something light, or a smaller dish if you prefer?”

  “The beef is from my brother Adam’s ranch,” Nick added. “It’s some of the best in the country. Plus, I’m buying, and this place has a Michelin star.”

  When Sam hesitated, Nick continued. “Come on, woman. It’s not wise to turn down a fancy free meal.”

  The server looked so hopeful Sam couldn’t refuse. “Sure,” she said, blessing him with a smile. “Thanks.”

  Fredrich gave a short bow and left.

  “Good choice. You won’t be sorry.” Nick raised a glass. “To a productive meeting.”

  Sam wasn’t so sure about how productive it would be. But she raised a delicately chiseled crystal goblet, clinked it against Nick’s and said, “Cheers.”

  “I know twenty-four hours wasn’t a long time to make this decision, but I hope you’ve had time to think about the benefits of accepting our offer.”

  “It’s all I’ve thought about,” Sam honestly responded. “But before we talk about the job offer, there’s something else we need to address.”

  Nick reached for his glass and sat back. “Oh?”

  “That night the last time we saw each other. I don’t know about you but for me, it’s the elephant in the room.”

  “If memory serves me correctly, I believe it was a cat.”

  Nick smiled. Sam didn’t.

  “I need to make sure that what happened years ago has no bearing on our potential relationship now. If I decide to work for CANN International, the interaction between you and me must be strictly professional. Nothing else.”

  Nick gave her a look. “Of course.”

  It was the exact answer Sam wanted, but did he have to reply so quickly? As if the thought of a rekindled affair, even briefly, had not even crossed his mind?

  Four

  Nick was taken aback by Sam’s statement but like the great amateur poker player he was, he didn’t let that fact show on his face. Sam had just laid out in no uncertain terms the boundaries of their relationship. Hers was a wise choice, the only one really, especially given the time crunch they’d be under. What else was there to say?

  “I didn’t mean to imply that you... I just didn’t want to assume anything. I wanted to be very clear that this is a business relationship.”

  “A business relationship? Does that mean you’re giving serious consideration to the job offer?”

  “I’d be crazy not to,” Sam admitted. “Especially since you offered to assist with childcare, which was a major concern, and probably the number one challenge to me accepting the offer.”

  Number two, she inwardly corrected herself. Her secret about Trey was numero uno.

  “If that issue is resolved, you’ll take the job?”

  “You’ve made it a very difficult offer to turn down. If it was just me to consider, the decision would be easier. But I have to think of my son. As I said yesterday, he’s had what was a very stable world turned upside down. He’s been relocated across continents and removed from almost all of the people he knows.”

  “I can’t imagine.” Nick’s eyes conveyed the compassion he felt. “You a newly single mom. His dad now so far away.”

  Or not, Sam thought, but said nothing.

  “Listen, Sam. CANN International, this project, means a great deal to me, but family is everything. I wouldn’t want to do anything to compromise the well-being of your son. It’s why throwing in the benefits of an au pair plus was a no-brainer. Both Christian and Adam swear that their assistants are invaluable, like part of the family.”

  “That’s who helped compile the list of childcare options you sent over, your brothers?”

  “I talked to them, but Mom and her assistant Hazel made the list. She thinks live-in help who can also provide tutoring would be the best type of aide for your situation. Isabella and Kirtu, the young women who work for my brothers, are very important components in the smooth running of their households. Given what you’ve just told me about Trey, I know that familiarity and routine are extremely important right now.”

  Sam nodded. Was it her imagination or did a softness enter Nick’s voice when he said his son’s name?

  “I think Trey having another constant in his life, someone who’d be there no matter where you’re working or what the hours, would be a good thing.”

  “What happens when the job is over?”

  “Good question, though one you might not have to confront right away. CANN International is a huge corporation. Lots of properties to decorate and stage. I could see you being a part of it for the long haul.”

  “That’s what I thought about my marriage,” Sam mumbled.

  Nick rarely squirmed. At this comment, however, he shifted in his seat. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, it’s not you. It’s me. There’s a lot going on. I would like to explore working with CANN but honestly, Nick, I’m in no shape to make long-term decisions right now.”

  “Fair enough. We could bring you on as a contractor and if it works out, look at something more permanent later on. Would that work?”

  Sam hesitated before nodding her head. “It sounds like a great opportunity. I’d love to take you up on it.”

  Nick felt his shoulders relax. Until that moment of relief, he hadn’t realized how badly he wanted to hear some type of yes in her response.

  “Good answer.” The door opened. Nick looked up as Fredrich entered behind a rolling tray. “And perfect timing.”

  Fredrich placed a bread b
asket in the center of the table, along with a carousel of butters and jams. Nick reached for the butter knife with one hand and a biscuit with the other.

  “These are legendary,” he began, spreading a lavish amount of herbed butter on the still-warm bun. “Made fresh daily, as are all of the bakery items. Come on, you’ve got to try one.”

  “I have to admit that the smell coming from beneath that cloth is amazing.” She lifted the linen, perused the assortment of mini-treats and picked up a roll. She sniffed. “Parmesan.”

  Nick paused to watch her. She closed her eyes and took a bite. Despite his determination to keep their relationship professional, the look of pure bliss on her face reminded him of a different type of nibbling they’d enjoyed one other time.

  “These should be illegal,” she said after finishing the roll.

  “I told you,” Nick said, with a laugh. “Bon appétit.”

  They spent the next several minutes discussing specifics of the contract. Fredrich returned with a medium-rare delight for Nick and an exquisite chopped salad topped with velvety slices of chateaubriand for Sam. Conversation was momentarily paused as Nick dug into his roasted vegetables and Sam poured a tangy vinaigrette over her fare.

  After a few bites, she put down her fork and picked up her napkin. “I had some amazing meals while living in the palace. But I never knew a simple salad could taste like this.”

  “I wouldn’t use that word in front of the chef. He’d probably say there’s nothing simple about it.”

  Sam took another bite of the delectable combination of brussels sprouts, kale, sweet onion and beef, drizzled with the sweet tangy dressing and sprinkled with a finely grated cheese. She closed her eyes, chewed slowly and moaned.

  Nick’s dick jumped. Down, boy. Memories best forgotten threatened to derail his thought process again.

  Sam opened her eyes. “You’re right. It looks that way. So few ingredients. But the depth of flavor...”

  “Sounds like you know your way around a kitchen.”

  “Not at all. My cousin does, though. Cooking shows are her obsession.”

 

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