I Heard A Rumor (8 page)

“Listen, if you ever decide that you want to work for the family company, I'd love to have you heading up the legal department at Britt Industries,” Eli said. “And your mother would love to have you closer.”

“Charlotte isn't that far away.”

“She hates traffic, darling. Will you and Zach be making Charlotte home?”

Zach stroked Chante's shoulder. “We haven't decided yet.”

“Have you taken the New York State Bar Exam?” Mike asked Chante. She looked down into her half-empty glass.

“Yes, and I passed it. But the thought of opening a firm there is a little scary,” she replied. “There is a lot of competition.”

“That's nothing for you, darling,” Zach said. “You'd take New York by storm.”

Eli and Mike nodded in agreement. “And if you moved to New York, it would give your mother and her friends a reason to go shopping more often.”

Chante grinned and took a sip of her drink. “Then it's settled,” she said after swallowing. “Zach, we're making Charlotte home.”

The group laughed, and Allison headed in their direction. “Everyone seems to be having a good time,” she said as she approached the group. She shot Mike an icy glance, and Chante shook her head.

It wasn't a secret that Allison and Mike didn't get along. Eli and Mike were fraternity brothers, and he was one of Deloris's ex-husbands. If it had been up to Allison, Eli would've turned his back on his friend after the divorce, but Eli had told his wife to stay out of grown people's business and remained friends with Mike.

“Yes, we are, darling,” Eli said, then planted a kiss on Allison's cheek.

“Eli,” she admonished, “we're in public.”

“We're in our home,” he said, then shook his head. Allison rolled her eyes.

“Allison, I see you're still pretending that the North lost the war,” Mike said with a smirk.

She rolled her eyes, then turned to Zach. “I hope you're not fooled by this guy's so-called charm. He's a snake with a government job.”

Mike clutched his chest. “Ouch, Allie. You'd think I'd divorced you.”

“Eli, it's almost time to eat. Do you think I can borrow our daughter for a moment?”

Chante groaned inwardly. “Mom, I wanted to show Zach your art collection. Can it wait?”

“It will only take a second, dear,” Allison said, then gripped her daughter's elbow. Chante unwillingly followed her mother into the kitchen. As suspected, the kitchen was filled with caterers preparing the low-country boil.

“May we have the room?” Allison said to the kitchen staff.

The workers headed outside to prepare the tables, leaving Chante and her mother alone. “What's going on, Mom?”

Allison drew in a deep breath. “I don't want to alarm you, but how much do you know about Zach.”

“Enough,” Chante replied.

Allison pulled her smartphone from her pocket. “Did you know he was divorced?” She showed Chante a Google search that had pulled up Zach's Wikipedia listing.

“Yes, I knew this.” She shook her head. “You do realize that most people my age are divorced or have children.”

“And that's why you should've gotten married earlier. Like, right after college. I swear, I don't understand . . .”

“Mother. I just want to eat and enjoy the day. I don't need you and your friends judging my choices.”

Allison folded her arms. “You haven't been making the best choices. Robert Montgomery, for example?” She held her phone up and showed Chante a headline about Robert's quest for mayor. “Were you going to tell me about this?”

Chante folded her arms across her chest. This was an argument she'd been hoping to avoid. Old ladies and smartphones were a dangerous combination.

“I'm going to walk away, Mom,” Chante said.

“No, you need to explain this to me. He asked you to marry him and cheated on you with a hooker? Why couldn't you keep this man happy at home?”

Chante's right eyebrow shot up. “Are you serious? It's my fault that he didn't keep his dick in his pants.”

“Language!”

“You know what, why don't you look at what I've done with my career. Show that to your friends who have daughters who are living off the taxpayers' dime and three baby daddies. I'm not doing this with you, and if I wasn't looking forward to having dinner with my father, I'd leave right now.” Chante stormed out of the kitchen and rejoined Zach, her father, and Mike. Just like Allison, she put on a fake smile and pretended that she wasn't mad as hell.

Taiwon glared at Nic. “How dare you come into my office with this bullshit?”

Nic smiled and smoothed his hand down his pant leg. “Listen, Mr. Myrick. You were one of our biggest supporters in the senate race.”

“Until your candidate was exposed as sleeping with a hooker. How does a law firm look supporting a criminal?”

“As opposed to having one as a partner?” Nic smiled and leaned back in the leather chair. “Your juvenile record may have been expunged, but you were charged with armed robbery.”

“And they had the wrong person. It's clearly written in the judge's dismissal of the case. What do you want from me?”

“Chante Britt.”

“What in the hell does she have to . . . ?”

“I need her in Charlotte. I know her suspension hasn't been lifted. Maybe if . . .”

“She is the reason our firm was associated with your client, a man who solicited sex while running for office, as if no one would find out. Do you know how much money we tied up in that loser? Chante is lucky she still has a job.” Taiwon snorted. “And she's dumb and desperate enough to stay with him? I told them she wouldn't be good candidate for partner.”

“Obviously, they aren't together; otherwise I wouldn't be here. You'd better do all you can to get her back in Charlotte and working here.”

“Why would I do that?” Taiwon asked as he leaned back in his chair. “She put us in the middle of Montgomery's scandal. We lost several conservative clients because of our endorsement of that louse.”

“And how many more clients do you want to lose? Make no mistake, I will destroy you if you don't work with me in making sure Robert wins this mayoral race.”

Taiwon shook his head. “And you think the people of this city will forgive him for sleeping with a hooker? Look at the last mayor. The voters want someone they can trust, and I don't think Montgomery fits that role.”

“And how do you think your partners will feel about a lying lawyer who wormed his way into the corner office? As a member of the bar, you were supposed to disclose your youthful transgressions. I know you didn't.”

“Blackmail is how you want to handle this?”

“I haven't blackmailed you. All I've done is make promises. Trust me, Mr. Myrick, you want me as an ally. Lift Chante's suspension, and she'll come back to Charlotte.”

“I don't take well to threats. Get the hell out of my office.”

Nic rose to his feet and shot Taiwon an icy glare. “You don't want me as your enemy. If you want to think about this for the next twenty-four hours, I'll give you that. But you need to do everything in your power to get Chante Britt reinstated at this law firm.” Nic walked out, feeling comfortable that Taiwon would do everything he ordered.

Once Chante and Robert were seen together, the voters would think she had forgiven him and would do the same. Nic wanted to show Teresa Flores, Jackson Franklin's campaign manager and political advisor, that he was still a player, and getting Robert elected mayor would do just that. If he had to use every dirty trick he'd invented, he would.

 

 

Chante yawned as she listened to Zach tell stories about some of the deals he'd closed in New York. It wasn't that she was bored; just like all the other guests at the table, that man enthralled her.

She, however, was tired and a little drunk. Chante wasn't a big drinker, but after her conversation with her mother she'd downed two more glasses of bourbon. Of course, Allison blamed her for Robert's bad choice. She toyed with her fork as conversations went on around her.

“Are you all right?” Zach asked when he noticed she'd gone silent.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm fine.”

“No, you're not,” he said leaning closer to her. “What happened with you and your mother? Since your tête-à-tête with her, you've been quiet, and you seem kind of tipsy.”

“I'm ready to go,” she blurted out. “I'm tired of pretending I'm getting married and acting as if that's going to make my mother acknowledge that I've made something of my life.”

A few heads turned in Chante and Zach's direction, and she didn't give a damn what they heard. When she saw her mother coming her way, she rose to her feet—in very wobbly fashion. Zach stood and held her steady.

“What's going on down here? A lover's quarrel?” Allison asked.

“No,” Chante said, “Zach and I have decided we're going . . .”

“To head back to the hotel,” he chimed in. “My fiancée had a little too much to drink and isn't feeling well.”

Allison shook her head. “You are so much like your father,” she said.

“Well, thank God for small miracles.”

“Chante, why do you have to . . . ?”

“Ladies,” Zach said, “let's table this for later. I need to get my baby into bed.”

Chante and her mother looked at Zach with their mouths in the shapes of Os. Allison may have been scandalized by his announcement, but Chante was intrigued. In bed? Did he know that after this dinner party, that was a strong possibility? Did he know that she'd wanted to hop into bed with him right after they'd finished playing in the ocean?

Knowing him, though, he probably meant he was going to take her up to her suite and make sure she got into bed and slept off her bourbon-induced insanity. Still, Chante brought her mouth to his and kissed him with an unbridled passion that made her mother gasp and some of the dinner guests clap.

“It's so good to see young people in love,” said one of the women sitting next to where Chante and Zach stood. Breaking the kiss, she looked up at him and smiled.

“Let's go.”

“I can't believe you,” Allison cried out, then dropped her head in her hands and started to sob.

Chante was sure her mother was faking it and didn't give her a second glance as Zach walked her to the front lawn.

“Chante, what was that back there?” he asked as he unlocked the Mustang.

“A lot of history and anger. Thanks to Jack Daniels, I just felt like telling her how I feel.”

Zach helped Chante into the car. “You and your mother have some deep-rooted issues.”

“And I've had too much to drink.” Chante blinked. “I think I'm going to be sick.”

Before Zach could move out of the way, Chante barfed all over his leather shoes.

 

 

When Chante woke up, she was sure that the last few hours had been a dream. She was wrapped in a blanket in her bed at the Charleston Harbor Bed and Breakfast. She stretched her arms above her head and turned toward the double doors leading out onto the balcony. She saw how dark it was and realized she'd been dreaming about having an argument with her mother at the low-country boil. And there was no way that Allison knew about Robert, nor did she . . .

“Hello, Sleeping Beauty. You owe me a new pair of loafers.”

“Oh my God,” she groaned. “It wasn't a dream.”

“It was quite real,” Zach said with a chuckle. “I think the best part was when your mother started crying and you walked off like you were so unbothered.”

Chante sat up and the room started to spin. “Oh no, I think I'm going to be sick.”

Zach rushed to her side with a glass of water. “Drink this slowly,” he ordered.

She took a quick sip of the cool water and then a slower one. The bile she felt rushing forward dissipated. “So,” Zach continued, “what is Taiwan?”

“Why?” she asked.

“If you have connections to that Asian country, you pretty much ruined them. That phone call was brutal. Remind me to never wake you up.”

The cup of water fell from Chante's hand. “I have pretty much ruined my life. Taiwon is one of the partners at my law firm.”

Zach released a low whistle. “I think you're going to be looking for a new job after the conversation you had with him. You made me blush, and I'm a New Yorker.”

Chante groaned and shook her head. “This is just getting worse.”

“Do you want to talk about what's going on?”

She swung her legs over the side of the bed. “Let's see, I pretty much ruined my life. Not much else to talk about.”

“There has to be a reason behind it. You seem way too level-headed to spaz out the way you did.”

I used to be. I used to have everything in control until I allowed the wrong man to ruin everything that was important to me,
she thought as she turned away from Zach's glare.

“I have a headache, and I'm hungry.”

“Good side step. But avoiding the question won't make me stop asking.”

Chante rolled her eyes as she rose from the bed. “Zach, why are you here?”

“Making sure you didn't have alcohol poisoning. Bourbon is not water.”

“You can see that I'm fine,” she said, even though the room seemed to be spinning as she tried to cross to the bathroom. Zach's strong arms kept her from falling to the floor.

“Slow down. You need more water.”

Looking into his eyes, Chante knew she needed his lips on top of hers. She knew she needed his arms around her until the sun came up. Sighing, she also knew that she and Zach didn't have to pretend they were getting married anymore.

“I'm fine. I have to go to the bathroom.” She wiggled out of his embrace, though staying in his arms would've made her forget all the drunken bad decisions she'd made tonight.

“All right,” he said as he watched her walk into the restroom. “But just so you know, I'm not leaving until we eat.”

“Who said I wanted you to leave?” she called from behind the closed door.

Zach crossed the room, ordered an assortment of appetizers from room service, and opened the doors to the balcony to allow the salty warm air to blow into the room. Looking out over the ocean, he couldn't help but smile. Someone had a situation that was even more messed up than his, even if he didn't know the details yet. But from the short time he'd known Chante, he felt as if her actions were showing that she had something deep going on and was lashing out at everyone.

You're here to have fun. It isn't your job to figure out what's going on with a woman you barely know,
he thought as he took a deep breath. Then he heard the shower start inside the bathroom. Part of him wanted to run in there with Chante and join her underneath the water and kiss her until whatever her issues were turned into afterthoughts. Just thinking about her wet and naked made him hard.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd wanted a woman this way. Over the last few months, Natalie had turned him against sex, which had become linked to her crimes. He had been ready to take a vow of celibacy, and he'd hoped to start it while he was in South Carolina. But Chante had to walk into his view. Those hips, lips, and dangerous thighs made him want her with a powerful longing.

The water stopped, and he walked back into the room. When the bathroom door opened, he expected a naked Chante to saunter out. He was disappointed when she walked out covered by a white terry-cloth robe.

“Where's the food?” she asked as she caught his glance. “And I hope you . . .”

Zach crossed over to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “You hope that I untie this sash,” he said as he did just that, “then lay you on this bed and feast on you?”

He lifted her in his arms and walked backward to the bed. Gently dropping her on the bed, he knelt, pulled her thighs apart, and dove into her wetness. His tongue darted in and out the wet folds of flesh, greedily seeking her throbbing bud of womanhood. When he found it, he sucked it until she gripped his neck and cried out his name.

“Ooh,” Chante moaned, “Zachary! Zachary!”

He replaced his tongue with his finger and looked into her eyes as he brought her to the edge of an orgasm. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked.

“Don't. Stop,” she said as she writhed underneath his touch. Zach kissed the sensitive spot between her thighs. Her legs trembled as she thrust her hips forward.

Zach deepened his kiss, probed her deeper with his tongue as she moaned in pleasure.

“Come for me, baby,” he groaned, then returned his mouth to her womanly core. With a few more licks and nibbles, Chante exploded. Her sweetness covered his face, and he licked his lips, savoring her taste.

“Whoa,” she moaned, her body shivering from the aftershocks of her intense orgasm. “That was . . .”

“Delicious,” he replied with a smile. “Feel better?”

Chante smiled, but before she could answer, there was a knock at the door. “I guess you better get that,” she said.