Read Her Little Black Book Online

Authors: Brenda Jackson

Her Little Black Book (5 page)

BOOK: Her Little Black Book
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Barbara met her sister's gaze, saw the concern in her eyes and understood why. There was a seven year difference in their ages and Peggy had always been overprotective when it came to her sister. It would be pointless to explain why she continued to stay with a man who had made a mockery of their marriage more times than she cared to remember; especially after what Peggy had gone through with Joe.
“Yes, I've decided to work things out. It's for the best.”
Peggy rolled her eyes. “For who? You don't have any little ones, and if it was left up to Courtney, you would have ended things with Ron long ago.”
“It's hard to explain.”
“Try. And don't use the excuse that I don't like Ron because you would be right. I don't like him. I don't like what he's done to you; what he'll do to you again if you let him. How can you even trust him?”
Barbara felt the tiny shiver that ran down her spine with Peggy's question. It was hard to trust him again but she felt she had to. She loved him. She had always loved
him, and was determined to make her marriage work. “I understand him. He doesn't mean to hurt me.”
Peggy frowned. “How can you sit there and say that when the man has two outside children, and if what I've heard is true, Melissa Langley is pregnant.”
“Ron says the child might not be his.”
Peggy placed her wineglass down with a thump. “Might not be his? Isn't it enough that he slept with her, even if the baby isn't his?”
“Can we change the subject, please?” She heard the anger in Peggy's voice. The last thing Barbara wanted was tension between them. She understood Peggy's concern, but Barbara loved her husband and she had to believe that he wanted to save their marriage as much as she did. He had promised on his mother's grave that he would not cheat on her again. She had to believe him because the thought of being alone actually scared her. She saw what Peggy had gone through after Joe had walked out on her; the misery and the depression. She had watched her sister go through it, and wasn't sure if she was strong enough to handle something like that herself. She would be the first to admit that Ron wasn't perfect; he had plenty of faults but then, so did she. And lately, she couldn't help but wonder what she could do to improve their marriage, to make him want her as his only woman, the way it should be.
Barbara knew that nobody understood, not her sister and not her daughter. Especially not Courtney.
“All right, we'll change subjects, but I hope you understand that I think you're making a mistake.”
“For wanting to make my marriage work?”
“No, for setting yourself up for another heartbreak.”
“It won't happen. He promised on his mother's grave, and he loved his mother.”
Peggy looked at her for a long time and said nothing. “You love him in a way that is consuming you. For your sake, I hope Ron doesn't screw up again.”
Barbara took a sip of her wine thinking that for her sake, she hoped he didn't screw up again, too.
Courtney walked into City Jazz and glanced around. She had arrived thirty minutes early to obtain a level of comfort and get her bearings.
Harper had asked how he would recognize her, but not once did he mention how she would recognize him. Lucky for her, a photograph of him had been posted on his company's Web site. Although he was sitting down behind a desk, she could tell he was tall, well-built, and that his features were pretty nice. Clean-shaven head, coffee-colored skin, dark eyes, nice set of lips, and a smile that had reached out to her.
She walked over to the bar to say hello to Stan the bartender. They'd grown up in the same neighborhood and had attended high school together, so their friendship went way back. The room was crowded, not unusual
for a Friday night, and the musicians were getting geared up on stage. This would be her first blind date, and since she now possessed the black book, it wouldn't be her last—unless she struck gold with Harper. She slid onto the stool and smiled at Stan Freemont. “Hi, Stan.”
“Court, how you've been?”
“Fine. How's the liquor business going?”
“Great. And the drugs?”
“Still paying the bills.”
He nodded and wiped off the counter in front of her. “I hadn't seen you around lately.”
“Been studying. Trying to move up within the company.”
“Good luck on that, but I'm sure you'll do fine. You were always smart in school.”
“Thanks, but with age comes fuzz on the brain. How's Marla and the boys?” she asked. His wife was also a former classmate, and his two sons were just adorable.
“Everyone in the Freemont household is doing fine. So what would you like to drink? Your usual?”
“No, just cola for now. I'm meeting someone tonight, so drinks will come later. I don't want to start too early, since I need to keep a clear head.”
He chuckled as he walked off to get her soda.
She turned and watched the club's entrance. Every time a man walked in alone, she felt her heart rate increase. “Okay, get a grip,” she whispered to herself and waved when a couple she knew from the local spa recognized her as they were leaving.
“Here you are,” Stan said, placing the drink in front
of her. “If you change your mind and want something with a little more kick, let me know. The margaritas are two for one tonight.”
He knew that was her favorite drink. “Thanks, but I'm limiting myself, since I need to drive home later.”
“Good decision.”
When Stan walked off again, Courtney took a sip of her drink and turned on her stool toward the stage to enjoy the musicians. A short while later, she glanced at her watch. Harper was fifteen minutes late. The only thing about arriving at a place early was that it annoyed her when someone else was late. Suddenly things that she hadn't thought about earlier went flying through her mind. What if he changed his mind and wasn't coming? Not once had she considered the possibility that he might stand her up, since during their phone conversation he'd seemed so eager to connect with her.
A few minutes later—ten, to be exact—she was still watching the door. Thirty full minutes would be the max. Anything else, as far as she was concerned, was unacceptable. She was about to turn around and motion for Stan to refill her drink when a man she immediately knew was Harper walked in.
He was as tall as she'd assumed he would be, and his features were just as they were on the Internet—striking. Her annoyance with his inability to arrive for their date on time fell by the wayside when he looked at her, met her gaze, then slowly glanced down at her crossed legs. His eyes locked on her anklet, and then he looked back up at her face and blinked as if he was taken back. Apparently,
he'd thought the woman he was meeting tonight was less than desirable. Blind dates, she realized, could indeed be like that. So far, she was happy with what she saw, and if the smile on his face was any indication, so was he.
He crossed the room to where she sat. “Courtney?” he asked, as if he needed to be absolutely sure.
She knew the feeling. Letting go of a small breath, she smiled. “Yes. Harper?”
He returned her smile. “Yes?”
Courtney offered him her hand. He took it, and his eyes twinkled. “Nice meeting you, and I'm in no way disappointed.”
“Neither am I.” For whatever reason, she got the distinct feeling she was going to enjoy his company tonight.
He slid onto the stool beside her. “I reserved a table for us.” He looked at his watch. “It should be ready in a few minutes.”
“All right.”
He studied her curiously, and her lips twitched slightly before she looked away to where a renowned trumpeter had taken center stage. She found it amusing that he thought she was a puzzle he needed to figure out.
Slightly inclining his head, he asked. “So, would I be wasting my time asking where you got my number to contact me?”
She met his gaze. “Does it really matter?”
His eyes skimmed down her body, and then he looked back to her, smiled, and said, “No.”
She looped some loose strands of hair behind her ear
and said, “Then, yes, it would be a waste of your time.” He laughed, and suddenly she felt at ease with him.
He glanced at his watch. “Our table should be ready now. Would you do me the honor of joining me for dinner?” he asked, standing.
Smiling, she replied softly. “I would love to.”
By the end of dinner, Courtney was convinced that she liked him. He was pleasant company who liked talking about himself and his job. But he hadn't dominated the conversation, and he seemed interested in her life and occupation, as well. He was impressed that she could speak several different languages. And it didn't go unnoticed that most of the time his gaze focused on her with laser-like concentration.
“So, tell me something in French,” he leaned over and whispered huskily.
She smiled and did what he'd asked.
“What did you say?”
She took a sip of her drink before saying, “I said that I'm enjoying your company and I'm glad we met tonight.”
“I feel likewise.”
“Sorry to interrupt, but are you Harper Isaac?”
Both turned automatically toward the sound of the intruding voice and found two men in dark suits standing beside their table. Even from across the table, she could feel Harper suddenly tense when he said, “Yes, I'm Harper Isaac.”
One of the men suddenly flashed a badge. “We're with the FBI, and you're under arrest for embezzlement.”
Harper stood. “There must be some mistake.”
“I'm afraid not,” the other man said, and before Courtney could blink, a pair of handcuffs were placed on Harper's hands while one of the agents read him his rights.
They had already become the center of attention, and now with the string of loud obscenities pouring forth from Harper's lips, they were doubly so. She wanted to speak up in his behalf, declare there must be some mistake, but she didn't trust herself to speak, mainly because she had just met him tonight. What had the FBI agent said? Harper had embezzled his employer?
“I need you to get me an attorney.”
She came out of her daze to realize Harper had spoken to her. “An attorney?”
“Yes,” he all but snapped.
“What's his name, and I'll be glad to call him for you.”
He was looking at her with impatience. “I don't have one. I need you to get one for me. Please do that for me, sweetheart, and when this is over, I'll repay every cent you put out to help clear my name.”
Sweetheart?
How had she gone from just Courtney to sweetheart?
And clear his name?
Was he insinuating that he wanted her to pay any legal fees associated with his arrest? Good grief! She glanced around, and it seemed all eyes were on them. She knew Stan, but she suddenly prayed that no one else in the establishment knew her.
She opened her mouth to say something, but it was too late. The two federal agents were dragging a loud and
belligerent Harper Isaac away. Suddenly, Stan was there at her side. “Go ahead and leave, Court. I'll take care of the bill.”
She again opened her mouth, but Stan's stern expression told her it was best to do what he suggested. She had never felt so embarrassed in her entire life. She bit back a relieved sigh, grateful those agents hadn't thought she was an accomplice and hauled her off to jail along with Harper.
With fluid ease and as much dignity as she could muster under the circumstances, she stood from her chair. “Thanks, Stan.”
“That's what friends are for. I'll call and check on you later.”
She nodded. Her knees trembled as she crossed the floor. She left the club thinking Harper Isaac's name would definitely get scratched from her little black book.
The city of romance …
Lake sipped his café au lait while eating his croissant and watching the tourists and Parisians walking by. Maybe it was his imagination, but everyone seemed to be in couples; not only that, but they were also hugged up, snuggled up close, even in the warm weather as they maneuvered through the maze of streets. Paris was a city used to celebrating love and romance. It set the mood, opened the doors to passion.
He was still thinking about Courtney Andrews. He had yet to officially meet her, but he couldn't dismiss her from his mind. The very idea that after a full week he would be sitting at a café with thoughts of one particular woman was simply startling. And so unlike him.
Of course, he was practically married to his business,
but that hadn't stopped him from seeking out female companionship when there was a need. Most of the women he dated found his personality challenging. He knew what he wanted in life, and no feminine wiles could steer him from his goal. Numerous had tried. All had failed.
The thought that he was fast approaching forty and not involved in a committed relationship didn't bother him. The fact that he was the only one of his four brothers without a wife meant nothing. He operated on a different drive, his own unique way of both doing and looking at things. If he wanted something, he got it. He didn't waste time analyzing, dissecting, or evaluating. Once he made his mind up about something, that was it. And he was not the nitpicky type. He was a person who didn't mind being tested. To his way of thinking, that only sharpened his predatory skills.
Smiling, he thought he could definitely come up with his own ideas about any given subject, which was probably why the advertisement business was his calling. Being creative, he'd discovered very early in life, was his forte. More often than not, he had to tamp down his enthusiasm and remind himself he had a very skilled and experienced team that he had groomed to take Masters Unlimited just where he wanted it to go.
But still, he enjoyed getting back into the thick of things every once in a while. Check out the market to see where it was going and to make sure his company was right there in the forefront, no matter where it led. And when it came to acquiring accounts that were as significant as Falconer Cosmetics, he couldn't help but take a personal
interest, which was why he was in Paris. He glanced at his watch. It was time to take care of business.
A few hours later, he was sitting in the office of Tammi Grier, one of Falconer's top executives. Tammi was intent on mixing business with pleasure. He figured that out the moment she'd accepted his handshake. There had been something about the way she gripped his hand, hesitated in letting it go with a keen look of interest in her ebony eyes. She was about thirty-six, tall, attractive, shapely, and from all accounts, a dynamic force when it came to the cosmetics business.
There was no doubt in his mind she was an easy mark and wanted him to know it. If he were to take her up on what she was offering, he would be relieving himself of eight months of going without. And he bet she had no qualms as far as him taking care of the matter right here in this office, probably right smack on her desk if he so desired.
He didn't.
Although he had a sharp sense of the sexually charged air surrounding them, he had a rule not to mix business with pleasure. And it was a rule he stuck to. It could be costly if things didn't work out the way one of the parties thought they should. He'd rather make deals in the office, not the bedroom. Besides, with Tammi he was being hunted, and he much preferred the role of the hunter.
That made his thoughts shift to Courtney Andrews again. He had considered finding out her address and sending her flowers with a card that would simply inform her that she had a secret admirer. But instead he decided
to wait until he returned to Orlando for them to be introduced properly before making his interest known.
He leaned back in the chair and turned his attention to the matter at hand. “So, what do you think of the proposal?” he asked Tammi, mainly because the room had gotten quiet. She had stopped reading the documents a while ago and had begun studying him instead with the intensity of someone trying to acquire his innermost secrets. A trace of her perfume hung on the air, a sensuous scent, and no doubt one of Falconer's own brands.
The company she represented had expanded to include a clothing line, a designer label Falconer wanted to promote worldwide. Masters Unlimited had been hired to take them to that level. Already the tone of the ad had been set for something sophisticated, edgy, and in your face. The target market was women of all ages, but the prominent hit was women between the ages of twenty-five and forty. The Falconer Woman was to become as popular as the Marlboro Man had years ago.
“I think it's more than we anticipated,” she responded in a sultry voice. “But then I'm not surprised. I'd heard you were a man known to deliver.”
Lake took in her meaningful expression, along with her suggestive words and shrugged. “I try. I don't believe in giving any less than one hundred percent.” And to let her know he was speaking strictly of business, he added, “And I expect the same of anyone who works for me.”
She nodded. “I understand you're related to Alexia Bennett-Masters.”
She had shifted topics on him, which was fine, since
he intended to keep up with her. You could never let a woman of Tammi Grier's caliber think she had your mind screwed up or your reasoning twisted into knots. “Yes, Alexia is married to my brother Quinn.”
“And what does he do for a living?”
He wondered why she wanted to know, but decided to answer anyway. “He's an entertainment attorney in Los Angeles. In fact, that's how they met.”
Her eyes raked over him slowly, as if she was still looking for a crack in his armor. “Did you know she's here in Paris performing?”
No, he hadn't known that. Alexia was a nationally known recording artist whose songs were legendary in becoming number-one hits on the R & B charts. The last time he'd talked to Quinn, his brother had mentioned she would be doing an international tour but hadn't said in what countries Alexia would be performing.
“No, I didn't,” he finally answered, and hoped she wasn't fishing to accompany him to one of Alexia's concerts on a date. And just in case she was, he added, “In that case, I need to find out what hotel she's staying at and invite her to have dinner with me.”
He watched her purse her lips. Even with her boldness, she wouldn't lower her pride to include herself in a threesome. She had too much class for that.
“Can I interest you in a drink after we finish up business here today?”
Her question made him smile. She was determined not to give up, and he was just as determined that she do so. But still, to maintain a smooth working relationship
and not ruffle her feathers, he decided sharing a drink with her wouldn't hurt matters. In fact, it might help them. Even with her man-eating demeanor, she was still good at what she did at Falconer. The old man was her uncle. Family ties, he knew, were what they were.
“Yes, you can interest me in that,” he answered smoothly, with a smile.
A grin touched the corners of her lips, and her hot-and-heavy gaze was still intent on him. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that she thought them sharing a drink would be just the beginning. She had two weeks to break down his resistance before he returned to the States. There was no doubt in his mind that she was determined to work it with everything she had.
The corner of his own mouth twitched. She could definitely take pleasure in trying.
“You were wonderful tonight, Alexia,” Lake said as his eyes roamed over the strikingly beautiful woman who was married to his brother. He had been escorted backstage to her dressing room the moment she performed her last song.
“Thanks, Lake,” she said, leaning up and kissing him on the cheek. “Quinn didn't mention you would be in Paris.”
“Only because the last time we talked, our conversation was rushed. I think he was trying to get the boys out of the house to day-care.”
Alexia laughed, and Lake thought the sound was just
as smooth and silky as what came out of her mouth whenever she performed. “Bennett and Blake are handfuls and keep us on our toes. But then Quinn is such a wonderful father. I wouldn't be able to go on tour like I do without him. It's good knowing how well he can hold things down on the home front, but I miss my guys, though.”
Lake heard the profound love in her voice for her four-year-old twin sons and for his brother, as well. Considering what she did for a living, she and Quinn had a good marriage, a sturdy one. For years, long marriages never seemed to work in the Masters family. His paternal grandmother had been married three times, and his paternal grandfather was on his fifth wife. That's why his generation of Masterses had vowed not to marry until they were sure they had found the right mate. He was proud to say that his brothers had married wisely.
“So when are you coming back out to L.A.? Your nephews are dying to see you again.”
Alexia knew the best way to get to him was through the kids. He was considered the fun uncle to all his nieces and nephews because he knew how to do magic tricks, something he'd picked up from one of his roommates in college who had a knack for it. “Once I've come up with a few new routines. Don't want to bore them with the old ones.” He laughed. “Last time I think Bennett was on to me.”
“That wouldn't surprise me,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “Blake sleeps through anything, but Bennett misses nothing. Now, how about joining me in a late dinner? I'd love the company. Besides, I want to hear about all the things you've been doing since I last saw you.”
“You'll be bored to tears.”
She smiled and patted his arm affectionately. “I'll take my chances.”
He couldn't hold back his grin. She intended to pump him for information she could pass on to his other two sisters-in-law, Faith and Brandy. The three of them thought his days as a single man were numbered—or should be, anyway. “Are you sure about that?”
“I am.”
“Then I'd love joining you.”
“Why me, Toni?”
Peggy Morrison stopped pacing the office of her boss and friend, Antonia Siplin, not sure she could handle what she was being asked to do.
“Because you are the logical person to do it, Peg. We both know you're here, working away in the media office, getting lost in the shuffle when your real level of expertise lies in public relations. And I need to utilize that expertise to make sure Willie Baker understands just what we're all about.”
Feeling a headache of defeat coming on, Peggy dropped into a chair across from her best friend's desk. Her friendship with Antonia went back a long way, all the way to their high school days. Toni had been there for her through thick and thin, had given her a shoulder to cry on when Joe asked for a divorce to marry a younger woman, had been the one to convince her to join Dropped Wives Anonymous when her self-esteem had plummeted so low,
she'd nearly driven everyone around her crazy. Now almost three years later, she had finally gotten her act together. She no longer blamed herself or everyone else for the breakup of her marriage. The fact that her husband had left her for a younger woman didn't rush her to tears and bouts of hysteria as it once had. Her support group of women who'd gone through the same thing was wonderful, and because of them she now thought of a brighter future and new beginnings.
And Toni had been instrumental in hiring her when she'd been out of the workforce for more than twenty years, to take charge of the media department for Making Dreams Come True, a nonprofit organization that granted dreams to terminally ill kids.
She turned her full attention back to Toni and said, “But everyone knows what we're about, Toni. Why is this donor being given special treatment?”
Toni flipped a mass of blond hair from her face, and her blue eyes shone with determination and dedication when she said, “Because we're not talking about the sponsorship of a dream trip for a few of our kids. I'm talking about him footing the money to build our own amusement park here in Orlando. Can you imagine such a thing?”
Peggy smiled. Yes and no. Yes, she could imagine such a park and knew how instrumental one would be for the kids. And no, because the very thought that a single person would consider solely footing the bill for such a place went beyond her level of comprehension. “That's a lot of money.”
Toni nodded. “Yes, and it's either going to come to us or our sister organization in Atlanta. We want it here, and it's important that while I'm gone Mr. Baker gets a special tour and breakdown of our facilities by someone with exemplary charm, grace, and style.”
Peggy rolled her eyes, knowing Toni was laying it on thick, or at least trying to. “There has to be someone else you can get.”
“But there's no one else that I'd trust. My first grandchild picked the worst possible time to be born, but nothing is going to keep me from being there to see it happen, and I want to arrive in Detroit knowing everything is under control back here. So please tell me that you'll do it.”
BOOK: Her Little Black Book
3.21Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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