Playing for Keeps (11 page)

“Everyone, I'd like to introduce world-renowned photographer, Quentin Davis. Mr. Davis is going to be shooting a spread on me for
Capitalist Magazine.
Please give him your full cooperation.” The executives nodded their heads.

An hour later, Quentin had several interesting shots. One of which was Richard pulling off his jacket, one of Richard rolling up his sleeves and another when he loosened his tie to get down to business. Quentin was rather surprised that he didn't let his right-hand man do all the work for him. Instead, Richard seemed apprised of all the pressing deals going on in his multimillion-dollar enterprise and wasn't afraid of getting his hands dirty. Quentin had expected a tyrant; instead he got a man who listened to his top executives' ideas and suggestions yet offered a firm hand to guide them in the right direction. Quentin couldn't help but be impressed by Richard's fairness. How could a man treat his employees fairly on one hand and destroy a community on the other? Quentin just didn't understand it.

When the conversation turned to the Harlem deal, Quentin's ears perked up. The architect was led in with a mock-up model of the proposed site that would house residential condominiums, offices, retail stores and several restaurants. It was an ambitious deal and one that apparently Richard King wanted desperately. When it came to discussion of how to convince the store owners to sell, Quentin felt it was unethical to stay. “If you'll excuse me,” he said and started toward the door.

“No, stay,” Richard said, rising from his seat and shutting the door. “This is a new project that the King Corporation has in development. I'm very excited about it. Please stay.”

Quentin didn't want to hear of any underhanded methods they were willing to use to run poor people out of their community, but Richard had insisted, so he stayed put.

One of his top executives began. “Richard, our main opposition is the community center. That center is the lifeblood of the community. Without its support, this project is doomed.”

“How do we get it?” Richard asked, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“The director and community-center board adamantly refuse to even hear our offer. We've proposed rebuilding the center in another location down the street. The new building would have all the latest computer and high-tech medical equipment available, but they will not budge.”

“Perhaps I should go by the site myself later in the week and talk with the director,” Richard said. He remembered a time when he'd frequented Harlem in his youth. It held a lot of dear memories for him, ones he would never forget.

“Are you sure that's a good idea, Richard?” an executive asked. “I can handle this.”

“I'm sure you can, but I think I'll stop by there later in the week. Quentin, you should join me and take some photographs.”

Quentin hated that idea. What if Malik saw the two of them together? That would only further infuriate his dear friend.

“As you wish.” The executive sat down, clearly defeated.

“Don't worry, you're still in charge of this deal,” Richard said, “but before we get too far financially, I want to know we've got all the bases covered. With that being said, I have another meeting to attend to. Meeting adjourned.”

Richard swiftly headed to the door, leaving Quentin to wonder just how far Richard King would go to seal this deal. And what did that mean for the community center and Malik?

 

When Avery came to work on Monday morning with her new haircut and wearing a black pencil skirt, cream lace halter and short black jacket, Hunter commented on her appearance.

“Avery, what did you do to yourself?” he asked, eyeing her up and down. He'd seen her look polished before, but this was different. This sexy new look stopped traffic.

“I had a little makeover at the Dominic Sabatani Salon,” Avery replied, smiling confidently.

“Well, you look great,” Hunter said, glancing at her, and just as soon as he'd said something nice, he took the words away with a sorry comment. “I'm sure your new look will do wonders for the gallery.”

“Excuse me,” Avery said, folding her arms across her chest. “Are you saying that my former appearance brought down the gallery?” She'd always dressed appropriately.

“No, of course not. Don't be so touchy.” Hunter patted her shoulder. “You've always been the utmost of professionalism. I merely meant that…”

“That I wasn't all that attractive before?” Avery said. “Thanks a lot, Hunter. You really have a way with the compliments. You need to stop while you're ahead.” She turned on her heel and walked away.

“I merely meant you're more appealing to a buyer now,” Hunter explained to her retreating back as she stalked up the stairs to her office.

Avery could just wring that guy's neck. Everything he said was laced with venom. She was going through the mail and her paperwork when she stumbled upon the fax from Woody from the other day. Why had she left the certificate at work instead of taking it home? Perhaps because she was running away from the unknown as she had done with Quentin on Friday night. Maybe it was time she confronted the truth head-on rather than fear it. Slowly, Avery slid the cover sheet off to reveal her Certificate of Live Birth. She learned she was named Baby Gordon. Had her birth mother been too busy to give her a name? She was born at 1:54 p.m. on November 3, 1974, in Manchester, New Hampshire, to Leah Gordon. But what Woody hadn't revealed over the phone was that her birth father's name had been left blank. Had her birth mother not known who her father was? Or had she been so ashamed at having a child out of wedlock that she'd left his name off on purpose?

The certificate claimed her mother's birthplace was Manchester and listed an address, but was that the truth? Had her birth mother given a fake address and birthplace so that she'd never be found? It was the first time Avery thought that maybe she wouldn't want to be found. But why not? How could a mother not want to know the child she gave away was all right? Had lived a good life? Her birth mother would want to meet her, Avery convinced herself. She was positive of it and when Woody found her, they would take steps to form some kind of relationship. Avery wasn't sure what that would be, but she would not expect the worst. Instead, she would hope for the best.

 

Malik had had a couple of days to cool off when Quentin stopped by the community center for his Monday afternoon photography session with the boys. When he arrived, he found that the room Malik had promised was being used.

Furious, Quentin stormed into Malik's office. He was in a meeting and sitting at a circular table with several people when Quentin burst in. “Malik, I want to talk to you
now!
”

Malik glanced in Quentin's direction and turned to his colleagues. “If you'll all excuse me, I'd like to talk to Mr. Davis,” he said. They rose from their chairs and quickly exited the room.

“Quentin, don't come in here starting trouble because that's the last thing I need right now. Why don't you just go back to your SoHo loft or Rome or Paris or wherever you feel comfortable these days and leave me to deal with real life issues?”

“Malik.” Quentin walked up to his best friend and looked him dead in the eye. “I know you may be upset with me, but that is no reason for you to take it out on those boys. I gave them my word.”

“Your word,” Malik laughed derisively. “Your word isn't worth squat. I believe you gave
me
your word that you would help the center and as soon as it wasn't convenient for you or it might interfere with your next big paycheck, you bailed. Leaving me holding the bag. Well, you know what, Q? I won't let you do that to those young men.”

“
I
am not doing anything to them.” Quentin's voice rose. “You're the one that's punishing them. I know they enjoyed that lesson and I was eager to see what they'd come up with.”

“Well, don't bother,” Malik said. “We don't need you. Andrew was kind enough to volunteer and take your place. Since unlike you, he cares about this center.”

“That's not fair, Malik.” Quentin shook his head. “I want to be here and I would think that would be obvious by the generous donation I gave last week.”

“Money? Sure, we could use that anytime. But what we needed from you was clout and influence and since you can't be bothered, then consider your services no longer needed.” Malik reached into his desk, pulled out the check Quentin had signed and held it out to him. “Here, take it. We don't need your guilt money either.”

Quentin was crushed. “Keep it.” He shook his head. “Whether you approve of my actions or not, the center needs it.” He started toward the door, but then stopped. “I'm really sorry you feel this way, Malik. I came here today to try and make amends. We've been friends for a long time. Hell, you've been a brother to me when I had no one. You and Dante have gotten me out of more scrapes than I can remember. But if this is the way you want it, then I'll honor your wishes and stay away.”

“I would appreciate that,” Malik replied and turned his back on Quentin. “Now could you please close the door on your way out?”

Quietly, Quentin shut the door behind himself and walked out of the center, and perhaps out of Malik's life for good.

T
here wasn't a cloud in the sky on Saturday when Avery and Quentin met for a picnic on the Great Lawn in the middle of Central Park. The green grass, colorful trees and blooming flowers was a romantic setting for their third date. Quentin had dressed casually for the occasion in a Tommy Bahama shirt and linen trousers while he waited by the Bethesda Fountain. He was snapping photos when a stylish woman walked toward him and kissed him on the cheek.

“Avery?” Quentin's gaze traveled up and down her slender frame, from her skinny capris that showed off her narrow waist to her skimpy halter tank underneath a shrug that revealed a generous swell of breasts. She sure didn't look like the Avery Roberts he knew. Sheer foundation adorned her face and mascara and shadow tinted her eyes, but once she smiled back at him and he made contact with those brilliant green eyes of hers, Quentin knew she was one and the same. “Wow!” He drew a shallow breath.

“So, do you like?” Avery asked, spinning around so Quentin could get a full view of the new and improved Avery Roberts, complete with new haircut, makeup and a brand new wardrobe thanks to Jenna.

Quentin grinned. “Yes, of course. You're stunning!”

Avery couldn't help but grin from ear to ear because that was the exact response she'd been looking for. “Thank you.”

“What prompted the change?” Quentin asked. He wasn't sure what to make of this new Avery. He'd looked forward to exploring a different side of her, but the Avery standing in front of him looked very sure of herself. Perhaps she wouldn't need coaxing at all.

“You did,” Avery answered honestly. “You asked me to loosen up and let myself go, and this is it.” She placed her hands on her hips.

“Well, you definitely know how to let go,” Quentin said, taking the picnic basket from her. They strolled through the mall underneath the green canopy of overhanging trees to the Great Lawn. Quentin laid out the blanket he'd brought with him and sat down. He offered his hand and Avery joined him on the blanket.

The look in Quentin's eye was unmistakable. He liked the new Avery. No, make that he
wanted
the new Avery. The knowledge sent a little shiver up and down her spine. She was glad he enjoyed looking at her as much as she enjoyed looking at his African features and strong jawline. She had to clench her stomach muscles tightly to curtail the sensual heat that threatened to escape should he touch her again.

“So, what did you bring?” Quentin asked, looking over her shoulder at the picnic basket.

“Oh, a little of this, a little of that.” Avery smiled knowingly. She'd brought cold cuts, pasta salad, Brie, crackers, fruit and a nice bottle of wine from her favorite delicatessen to wash it all down with. “Here, pop this open.” Avery handed him the bottle of white wine and bottle opener. He quickly uncorked it and leaned over to pour wine into the plastic flutes she'd brought.

Quentin's mouth watered when she laid out the appetizing spread. For the next hour, they indulged in stimulating conversation along with their picnic feast. Afterward, they both lay out and soaked in the sun's rays. Quentin was amazed at how comfortable he was with Avery. He felt as if he could talk to her about anything, and so he did. He used the opportunity to get an unbiased opinion about his new assignment and its effect on his relationship with Malik. “He's terribly upset with me, Avery, and I don't know how to make it right.”

Avery was ecstatic that Quentin felt he could confide in her. It showed that their relationship was progressing beyond the physical. “I'm sorry to hear that,” she said. “Doesn't Malik understand that it's just an assignment? It's your career on the line.”

“I'm afraid not,” Quentin said, turning to face her. “He sees that if I'm not with him, I'm against him. Malik only sees things in black in white.”

“And life is in shades of gray,” Avery replied. Boy, had she learned that. It would be so easy if she could just hate her parents and turn her back on them, but she couldn't. She loved them. And although she was angry that they'd kept the truth from her, she knew that deep down they loved her. And that was what she told Quentin. “I know he's angry with you now, but he still loves you, Quentin,” Avery said, stroking his cheek lightly with her hand.

That tiny but tender action warmed Quentin's heart and caused him to reach over, pull her toward him and brush his lips across hers. She tasted of strawberries, ripe and sweet. “You taste so good,” Quentin groaned.

“So do you,” Avery whispered and kissed him again.

“Come with me.” He pulled her to her feet. “Since you are feeling so carefree, let's take a ride on the carousel.”

“Are you for real?” Avery laughed. “The carousel is for kids.”

“Who says?” Quentin asked. “You have to get in touch with your inner child.”

After a leisurely walk, he was helping her on to the back of a hand-carved horse and joining her on the horse next to hers. “You are so crazy!” Avery yelled when the carousel took off.

“And you love it!” Quentin replied.

She laughed. Because he was absolutely right. She loved that about Quentin. He was fun and exciting. He kept her on her toes and she never knew what was coming next.

When the three-and-a-half-minute ride was over, they strolled over to the zoo to watch the polar bears, harbor seals, penguins and sea lions. When Quentin reached out to hold her hand, Avery didn't object. She was having the perfect date. They were admiring the sea lions when she felt a raindrop. “Did you feel that?” she asked.

“Feel what?” he asked, and then he felt it, too. Rain. Why did it have to rain when they were having such a perfect day? “C'mon, we better head out of here.” He picked up the picnic basket from the floor and grabbed her hand. But before they could even make it out of the zoo, they were caught in a torrential downpour.

“Ohmigod!” Avery said as the rain ruined her brand-new haircut and soaked her clothes.

“Don't you live around here?” Quentin said, squinting at Avery through the rain.

“Yes, I live on Seventy-ninth and Central Park West.”

“Great, let's go,” he yelled. They quickly ran through the park and once they made it to Fifth Avenue, he hailed a cab. Luckily, a yellow taxi pulled up immediately to the curb and they hopped inside.

“Can you believe that weather?” Quentin asked. One minute it had been bright and sunny, and the next it was raining cats and dogs.

“No,” Avery replied, shivering. “Look at me. I'm a mess.” She glanced down at her ruined outfit. She'd been trying to make an impression and thanks to the weather her new look was ruined.

“No, you're not. You're beautiful,” Quentin responded, brushing the damp hair out of his way so he could see her face. “And you're shivering.” He leaned over and rubbed her shoulders to warm her up. Avery instantly heated at the touch of his big strong hands against her cool flesh. When the cab stopped in front of her building, her doorman graciously came out with an umbrella, though it would hardly do much good since they were both soaking wet.

“Thanks, Mike,” she said, nodding to the doorman. An air of sexual tension permeated the ride up to her apartment. Quentin was staring at her with such naked hunger that Avery thought she would combust if he didn't touch her soon. The prolonged anticipation was almost unbearable. Thankfully, the elevator stopped and they entered the comfort of her apartment.

“I guess we should get out of these wet clothes,” Avery said once Quentin had shut the door and dropped the picnic basket to the floor.

“Yeah, I think that would be a smart move,” he responded, looking at her seductively. Heat flared brightly in his eyes. When Avery went to remove her shrug, Quentin said, “Here, let me help you with that.”

He swiftly closed the distance between them and her hands trembled slightly when Quentin slid the shrug off her slender shoulders then leaned down to delicately brush his lips against her damp skin. Avery shuddered, but she didn't stop him. Instead she helped by throwing her arms up in the air so he could pull the wet halter off her body.

She wasn't wearing a bra, so her beautifully shaped breasts were exposed to Quentin's appreciative male gaze. “Hmmm,” he groaned before voraciously claiming one luscious brown nipple. His teeth taunted it until it turned into a rocky peak. Quentin lathed it with his hot, wet tongue. Avery tasted so good and so sweet, but he wasn't nearly satisfied enough. When he was done with one breast, he feasted on the other, until she was so overwhelmed, she whimpered aloud.

“Oh, yes,” Avery moaned as moisture settled in her panties. She pressed herself against him, eager for fulfillment, but Quentin wanted to take his time.

He pulled away briefly to search Avery's eyes for any apprehension, and when he found none, he swept her into the circle of his arms and claimed her lips. His mouth covered hers hungrily. His kiss sent spirals of ecstasy rocketing through Avery and she returned it with reckless abandon. She wanted to be closer to him, to feel his hard body against hers. When they finally parted, Avery reached down and pulled his damp shirt out of his trousers. She looked up at him as she undid each button slowly and deliberately.

Quentin thought he was going to go mad with desire if she continued the slow pace. When she reached the final button, he ripped the shirt off and tossed it across the room. Then he swept her weightlessly into his arms and marched toward her bedroom. She was surprised he remembered since she'd only shown him once. He gently deposited her on the bed, but Avery sat up. She didn't want to be a bystander; she wanted to be an equal participant.

She threw the covers back and beckoned him with her index finger. “Come here,” she ordered.

Quentin smiled. “My, my, aren't we eager?” He was enjoying this new self-confident Avery and allowed her to unzip his trousers.

“Yes, I am,” she replied, pushing them down his legs. “I want you, Quentin Davis.”

“Oh, you can have me, Avery. The question is, can you handle it?” he challenged, stepping out of his pants and joining her on the bed. Now it was her turn. She wasn't nearly naked enough. He reached for the zipper on her capris.

“Oh, I can handle it.” She smiled seductively at him as she lifted her hips, allowing him easier access to remove her capris. When Quentin hooked his finger in her sexy bikini panties next, they followed the same path as her capris and quickly hit the floor.

Quentin gently laid her back on the bed and spread her legs. Then he brought his warm mouth in contact with that intimate part of her and hovered, leaving Avery eager for him to know her fully. When she finally felt the entry of his teasing tongue at the apex of her womanhood, she couldn't resist lifting her bottom off the bed. That was when Quentin grasped her hips firmly in his hands and tongued her, devouring her greedily. A spasm quickly engulfed Avery and a scream escaped from her lips. As she came, her womanly scent inflamed Quentin while her moans were music to his ears. He moved back upward and nuzzled the skin at the nape of her neck.

“Quentin, take me now,” she whimpered as her hands restlessly moved across his chest, shoulders and back. “I want you now.”

That was all the incentive Quentin needed to reach for the foil packets in his pants on the floor. He'd decided to have some on hand after the way things had heated up after dinner at his loft.

He couldn't resist her urgent pleas and after protecting them with a condom first, only then did he shift his body over hers and slide his painfully hard erection into her moist center, her heat, her fire. He began thrusting deep inside. He wanted to possess her as no other man had. When Avery bucked underneath him, Quentin had to cup her bottom before he slipped out. He didn't want to lose one ounce of their momentum. Making love with Avery was a deeply carnal pleasure that he wanted to enjoy and enjoy. He smiled when he heard the lustful sounds of their mutual pleasure echoing off the walls.

Avery locked her fingers behind his head and branded him hers with a stirringly passionate kiss seconds before she let out a wild, unfettered cry and climaxed violently. Quentin was not slow to follow as nirvana soon overtook him. Afterward, he threw a sheet over their satiated bodies.

“Wow, that was pretty incredible,” Avery said when she finally caught her breath and was able to sit upright.

“You're telling me,” Quentin said. “I didn't know you'd be such a tigress.” She'd given herself so completely, she'd thrown him for a loop.

“I didn't know I was capable of that kind of passion. Quite frankly, I've never cared for sex. I could take it or leave it. Other men never made me feel the way you make me feel, Quentin.”

He stared down at her and gently stroked her hair. He appreciated her forthrightness. She was being so open and honest, it made him feel guilty for not doing the same. He'd bet his friends that he could get Avery into bed, and now that he'd won, he felt he'd lost something, too. Because if he ever told her about the truth, she'd never forgive him.

“You know, being with you, Quentin, has changed me. I feel more alive and open to new experiences.”

“Such as…”