Книга - This Tender Melody

This Tender Melody
Kianna Alexander


Rivals—in perfect harmony…The only thing standing between Eve Franklin and her dream is over six feet of pure, arrogant alpha male. Eve has spent years preparing to take the reins of her family's software business. Now that her father is stepping down, he's putting someone else in charge—a gorgeous tech magnate who's not content with just taking Eve's place in the boardroom. He plans to woo her into his bedroom, as well!Software genius, talented musician and independently wealthy at thirty-six—Darius Winstead has always known how to get what he wants. And he wants Eve. But she is a challenge unlike any other. She's sophisticated, smart and not the least bit intimidated by his success. So Darius starts to reveal all aspects of his life and invites Eve to see the man behind the millionaire. Will it be enough to make Eve listen to her heart and trust her former enemy?







Rivals—in perfect harmony...

The only thing standing between Eve Franklin and her dream is over six feet of pure, arrogant alpha male. Eve has spent years preparing to take the reins of her family’s software business. Now that her father is stepping down, he’s putting someone else in charge—a gorgeous tech magnate who’s not content with just taking Eve’s place in the boardroom. He plans to woo her into his bedroom, as well!

Software genius, talented musician and independently wealthy at thirty-six—Darius Winstead has always known how to get what he wants. And he wants Eve. But she is a challenge unlike any other. She’s sophisticated, smart and not the least bit intimidated by his success. So Darius starts to reveal all aspects of his life and invites Eve to see the man behind the millionaire. Will it be enough to make Eve listen to her heart and trust her former enemy?


She touched his hand. “Fantastic show.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He inhaled the soft scent of her perfume.

“I thought that last song was especially moving.” She looked into his eyes, waiting.

Looks like she’s on to me. “I wrote it. It was inspired by you.” He reached out, tracing a gentle finger along her silken jaw.

She trembled beneath his touch. “I don’t know what to say—it’s beautiful.”

He hopped down from the stage, never tearing his eyes from hers.

She came to him, and he enfolded her in his embrace. He lifted her chin, watched her eyes slide closed. Her glossy lips parted in sweet invitation. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to hers.

Her delicate fingers stroked the back of his neck as the kiss deepened.

He groaned, pulling her in as close as he could. He left her lips to explore the hollow of her neck, scented with the sweet, sensual notes of her perfume. His arousal grew, increasing to the point of pain. If he didn’t have her tonight, he seriously thought he might explode.

He placed a parting kiss on her neck, then whispered in her ear. “Let’s get out of here, or I’m going to make love to you on the stage—”


Dear Reader (#ulink_071b56f1-21b6-5081-9c3b-5bc22b055ea7),

Thank you so much for picking up a copy of This Tender Melody. I’m so excited about my Mills & Boon Kimani Romance debut and I hope you are, as well. This story has been with me for quite a few years. I’d always wanted to write something that combined my two favorite things: romance and great music. The Gentlemen of Queen City series will bring you hot, sexy love stories, interwoven with the jazz music that shaped today’s hits, all set in the sultry city of Charlotte, NC.

The heroes of these books are members of a jazz quartet. Four men who have little else in common are drawn together by their love of the music. Darius Winstead, the band’s bassist, is up first, and he’s about to meet his perfect match in technology executive Eve Franklin. Get ready—it’s going to be a wild ride!

All the best,

Kianna

Facebook.com/KiannaWrites (https://www.Facebook.com/KiannaWrites)Twitter.com/KiannaWrites (https://www.Twitter.com/KiannaWrites)




This Tender Melody

Kianna Alexander





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


KIANNA ALEXANDER, like any good Southern belle, wears many hats: loving wife, doting mama, advice-dispensing sister and gabbing girlfriend. She’s a voracious reader, an amateur seamstress and occasional painter in oils. Chocolate, American history, sweet tea and Idris Elba are a few of her favorite things. A native of the Tar Heel state, Kianna still lives there with her husband, two kids and a collection of well-loved vintage ’80s Barbie dolls.


Dedication (#ulink_9c1074f8-7e4d-54c3-bb4b-61882a80dcb7)

For my son, whose bravery, curiosity and positive outlook inspire me daily.


Acknowledgments (#ulink_10ac1c4e-4c15-5df3-bb53-93fe6881a9d1)

First, I acknowledge my Creator, who lovingly made me, and gave me the gift of words.

Next, I declare my love to my family. To my husband, Keith, whose affection and support cradle my very soul, thank you. And to the two beautiful children born from our union, Mama loves you dearly.

I’d like to thank my “Council of Queens.” These are the women who have lived a bit longer than me, whose love, support and advice help me make my way in the world. They are Lillie Mae and Gwen Mckinnon, Jettlean Pettiford, Joyce Manning, Henrietta Wyatt, Virginia Stone and the venerable Beverly Jenkins. I’d also like to express my love and gratitude to my wonderful street team, The Reading Roses, and to my Hot MAMA compatriots: Altonya Washington, Angie Daniels, Bridget Midway, Cheris Hodges, Denise Jeffries, Di Topaz, Iris Bolling, Loretta Walls, Reese Ryan and Yvette Hines. And all my love to the book clubs and readers who’ve been supporting my work since I first published in 2009.


Contents

Cover (#uf0645eba-3622-5a91-85f9-565370211eaa)

Back Cover Text (#u94fec21d-9517-5e3d-b5da-1380120b60e8)

Introduction (#u917f5a50-d0c5-5395-aa22-c1e3577e87bd)

Dear Reader (#u7b9de809-62af-5899-8a3e-70b3d2bba0ec)

Title Page (#u41cc75da-149c-5f8d-87c3-3265317bef78)

About the Author (#u23fcdb0b-f6b1-5b49-99c9-ac3bf2d16ead)

Dedication (#u808ef4b3-219a-51de-9430-1d1402d8ced1)

Acknowledgments (#u87e8583a-5c95-545c-ba2c-14ec298558ed)

Chapter 1 (#u168529a4-4478-5d27-8c41-c0005db31d73)

Chapter 2 (#u071fad6e-ae79-562e-bc13-894c75abc2db)

Chapter 3 (#ua18bb41f-e699-52f5-8c5b-2f64e088e1cd)

Chapter 4 (#u3c90fbde-d84f-5ec0-9c29-fe15a25a604a)

Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 21 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 22 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 23 (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter 1 (#ulink_c8c573f7-710f-5040-b434-3ef844b54c15)

Holding a glass of iced tea, Eve Franklin strolled into the family room of her childhood home. Sundays with her parents were a sacred tradition, one that she never neglected in favor of her career or social life. Some of her girlfriends complained about her refusal to go on weekend escapades with them, lamenting that she saw enough of her parents when she went to work every day. Though she did work in the family business as chief financial officer of Franklin Technologies, Incorporated, she rarely saw her parents for more than a few minutes during a typical workday.

Her best friend, Lina, and some of her book club gal pals had taken off for the beach that weekend. Living in Charlotte, North Carolina, meant the best of both worlds—half a day’s drive to the east or west delivered one to the majestic peaks of the mountains or the shimmering beauty of the Crystal Coast. Despite Lina’s whining, protesting and threats, she’d reminded the girls that Sundays were irrevocably reserved for her parents. As she settled into her early thirties, her parents’ advancing age wasn’t lost on her. She wanted to spend as much time with them as she could manage.

By now, the group was no doubt “cutting up” at Lina’s rental property on Emerald Isle. But she quickly pushed the thought aside. She was right where she was meant to be—where she most wanted to be and she knew she’d made the right decision.

Fading sunlight streamed in through the opened gold brocade drapes, illuminating the coffee table where a game of Monopoly was set up. The surround sound music system filled the large room with the sounds of instrumental jazz. The current piece featured the peppy strains of an acoustic guitar, the light airy notes of a flute and the accompaniment of a piano, while a plucked bass drove the beat.

The plush fibers of the midnight-navy carpet cushioned her bare feet as she crossed the room. She set the glass down on the short-legged mahogany coffee table, careful of the game board that already occupied the space. She used her hands to tug the hem of her yellow knee-length sundress. Reclaiming her seat on the floor, she grabbed her glass and took a sip. “Whose move is it?”

“My turn.” Her mother, Louise, grabbed the pair of dice from the center of the game board. Shaking them inside her closed fist, she tossed the dice out, and then moved her iron-shaped game piece. “Your turn, Joseph.”

Eve’s gaze landed on her father’s face, and she couldn’t help but notice how drawn he looked. His face was a mask of exhaustion, and a bit of moisture clung to the edge of his graying hairline. The brown eyes she’d looked into all her life were now lacking the sparkle she was accustomed to seeing there. Now he looked ahead, almost as if looking through her, his expression vacant. “Daddy? It’s your move.”

He blinked, then offered her a smile. “Sorry, baby. Guess I checked out for a minute.” He picked up the dice, drawing them close to his lips, and blew on them for luck.

Eve shifted her gaze to her mother, who also viewed him with concern. Joseph Franklin was a hard worker, always had been. He’d taken the reigns at a struggling software company in the early seventies, reshaped and restructured it, and made it into a powerhouse business. The years of labor he’d put in to turn FTI into a successful multinational software firm were beginning to take a toll on his health.

“Daddy, you look like you could use a nap.” She kept her tone light and casual, wanting to avoid setting off his notorious stubborn streak.

“I’m fine.” He set his car-shaped game piece on the designated spot and drew a card from one of the two piles on the board. “Looks like I won a beauty contest. Seventy-five dollars, please, Mrs. Banker.” He showed his card to Louise, who smiled as she counted out the multicolored fake bills from the plastic tray.

She could see right through her father’s attempt to change the subject. “Really, Daddy. You look tired. I don’t want you overdoing it.”

He groaned. “Baby, I appreciate your concern but I’m fine. I’m not about to quit now—not before you land on one of my properties with a hotel.” He gestured to a few spots on the game board. “Then you’re gonna owe me some serious cash.”

She knew better than to press her father, so she looked to her mother for support.

Louise handed over the rainbow-colored stack of money she’d counted out for him. “Maybe she’s right, honey. Sunday is the day of rest, after all, and we’ve got a busy day tomorrow. A little extra sleep couldn’t hurt.”

His face twisted into a frown and he lay his winnings down on the coffee table. “All right. If it’ll get you two off my case, then I’ll take a nap.” He scooted to the edge of the sofa, then used his hands to brace himself as he got into a standing position. “You girls are always sending me to bed lately. Next, you’ll be trying to goad me into retiring.”

Louise blinked, her eyes darting away from her husband’s accusing gaze.

Eve drew a deep breath. Her father was almost seventy years old, well past the age most people would have retired, especially considering the financial security he enjoyed. She knew better than to point out his age, but she didn’t think retiring was a terrible idea. It was doubtful he’d even consider it, so she chose a different approach. “We’re just trying to take good care of you, Daddy. You think about work too much.”

He folded his arms across his chest, rumpling the striped fabric of his button-down shirt. “And you’d better be glad I do, otherwise we wouldn’t be enjoying this lifestyle.” He gestured around the room as if to draw her attention toward the expensive oil paintings, brass fixtures and other material possessions around the space.

While all the things they owned were very nice, and she did enjoy having a measure of financial security and freedom, none of that mattered to her nearly as much as her father’s well-being. “You know we appreciate all your hard work. I just don’t want you to worry. When the time comes, I’ll be ready to take over at FTI.”

Silence fell in the room. She knew she’d taken a risk by bringing up her eventual assumption of the CEO position, but she hadn’t expected this. Studying her father’s face, she found it unreadable. Was he confused or feeling out of sorts due to whatever was ailing him? Or did he doubt her ability to lead the company? She couldn’t tell, but she didn’t dare ask.

“I don’t want to talk about this now. I’m going to bed.” He turned around and stalked down the hallway, his hands formed into fists at his sides.

Once he was gone, she helped her mother tidy up. When the board game had been put away, she followed her mother into the kitchen and asked the question that was burning in her mind.

“Mama, what’s wrong with Daddy?”

She shrugged. “I wish I knew. I’ve been trying to get him to go to the doctor for two solid weeks now.” She rolled up the sleeves of her blue shirtdress, and turned on the tap to wash out the glasses they’d used.

Her mother’s words made her nervous. If her mother couldn’t get him to go see a doctor, she knew her own chances were pretty slim. Still, there was no way around the worry she felt regarding him. Maybe she was being overly cautious, but where her father’s health was concerned, she’d much rather be persistent with her requests for him to see a doctor than find out too late that something was wrong.

With the three glasses set upside down to dry, Eve followed Louise back into the family room. Every inch of the house was filled with sweet memories of her childhood. As an only child of a well-off family, it was pretty likely she’d been overindulged. What mattered most to her, though, was the love her parents had showered her with at every given opportunity. They’d always made time for her, and that was the best gift she could have received, more precious to her than a boatload of jewels. “We have to make him go in for a physical. Something is wrong, I just know it.”

Louise sat down on the sofa and sighed. “I know it, too. I’ve been with that man almost fifty years, and I can tell he’s not himself. He’s just so damn stubborn.” She ran a hand through her glossy short salt-and-pepper locks. Her brown eyes, shaped the same as Eve’s, held all the affection and concern she felt for her husband of forty-six years.

“So what are we going to do about him?” She took a seat next to her mother, looking across at the family photograph on the wall above the console table. The picture had been taken when she was about ten, around Christmastime. While part of her cringed at the wayward pigtail standing straight up on one side of her head, her heart smiled as she looked upon her father’s face. In the photograph, he looked young, strong and steadfast—a broad-shouldered, sharp-dressed man lovingly embracing his wife and daughter. That was the man she knew and loved—not the tired, bent man she’d been seeing lately.

“I’m gonna keep after him. I intend to nag him until he gets himself checked out, no matter how long it takes. I’ve been putting up with him all these years, and I’m not giving him up now.”

“Thanks, Mama. I think this software launch has put a lot of extra stress on Daddy’s shoulders.” She knew how excited her father was about the upcoming MyBusiness Sapphire product, an enthusiasm she shared. This would be the most comprehensive software suite they’d offered in years, and even though the launch was still a few months away, the product would be officially announced this week. After that, they’d have to contend with media attention and any possible competition from other firms, in addition to their already-packed launch preparation to-do list. “Everybody’s been working so hard on it.”

“I know. Times like this, I really enjoy my position as a silent board member. When y’all get to scrambling around, I don’t have to take part in any of it.”

She was familiar with her mother’s point of view. For Louise, it was enough to be a part of Joseph’s dream. She’d never had any interest in the intricate inner workings of the business, or in keeping up with ever-changing technological trends. When it came time to plan a party, though, Louise could be counted on to have everything in place. Celebrations were her forte.

“I guess I’ll get on home, and get myself together for this week.” She gave her mother a kiss on the cheek and stood. “Need help with anything before I go?”

Louise shook her head. “Maid will be in tomorrow, so go on home. I’ll see you at the offices tomorrow.”

She kissed her mother on the cheek again, then left, closing the front door behind her.

Outside, she climbed into her midsized SUV and started the engine. Alone in her car, she thought about the look that had come over her father’s face when she mentioned taking over at FTI. She was the only heir to the business, and she’d worked hard alongside her parents to make it a success. Could he really doubt her abilities now, after everything she’d put into her work?

The city lights twinkled in the darkness, dotting the I-77 corridor like gems. Easing into the turn lane, she took a moment to take in the sight of the city. For a few seconds she admired the skyline. Then the light changed, and she turned her truck in the direction of her house.

* * *

Darius Winstead lifted the lid of his grill and turned over the four steaks on the grate. As he closed the lid, he took in the magnificent view from the patio of his vacation condo. Only a few hundred yards away, the Atlantic Ocean ebbed and flowed beneath a beautiful crystal-blue sky. The view was part of the reason he had bought his little Emerald Isle retreat, and he had plans to spend many more days here during his awesome retirement.

Just beyond the patio steps, his boys were competing in an epic game of volleyball, using the net he’d perched in the sand the day he’d bought the place. The three of them were his closest friends in the world; they all shared the same passion for sports and music—jazz in particular. They were grunting and shouting, and making serves and volleys as if they were professional athletes and the championship hung in the balance. The sight of it tickled him. If he weren’t busy tending the grill, he’d be out there with them.

At twenty-eight, Darius had been a hot commodity in the tech world. Having graduated at the top of his class from North Carolina Agricultural and Technical State University with his master of science in information technology, he’d earned the opportunity to intern for his mentor, Joseph Franklin, at his software company. In a little less than four years, Darius had created the first smartphone operating system and sold it for $300 million. He then happily left the office politics and stuffy meetings behind. Even Rashad, Darius’s closest friend, had called him a dumb ass for getting out of the software game when he did, but he had no regrets. He’d loved the creative side of software development, but the business side of things had pushed him far away. He didn’t want to spend the rest of his life sitting in board meetings, going over expense reports and kowtowing to stockholders.

Now, at thirty-six, Darius spent his days doing the things he loved, and felt incredibly blessed to be able to do so. His time was his own, and that was just the way he wanted it. Just a few days after his official retirement party, he’d done the one thing he’d always wanted to do, the thing he’d been planning for months—form a band. He’d given up playing his bass during his early days in the tech business, but the day he’d picked it up again was as if he’d never put it down. His boys had been happy to join him in practicing, and once they’d felt comfortable with their skills, he’d started marketing the group. He and his friends were now the Queen City Gents, a jazz quartet that played regular local gigs and enjoyed an enthusiastic, mostly female following.

He watched Rashad McRae, his buddy since undergrad, take a flying leap that would have made any professional basketball player jealous as he returned the ball to Ken Yamada and Marco Alvarez on the other side. Rashad, who was the band’s pianist and vocalist, had always imagined himself as the world’s most powerful athlete. Darius wasn’t a bit surprised that he’d chosen to play alone against their bandmates.

The grill’s timer buzzed, and he opened the lid once again. He punctured the steaks with a fork to be sure they’d reached medium-well perfection. Satisfied, he grabbed his tongs and began moving the steaks to a ceramic platter. “Yo! Steaks are done!”

What had just moments ago been the most serious volleyball game ever played immediately came to a halt. The saxophonist, Marco Alvarez, captured the ball between his hands instead of returning it. All eyes turned toward Darius standing by the grill.

He made a gesture with his tongs, and the three men jogged up the sandy slope.

Rashad got there first, and leaned over the platter, inhaling deeply. “Smells good, man.”

Darius jabbed him in the shoulder with the nonbusiness end of the tongs. “I know, but if you don’t go wash your hands and quit breathing on my steaks, me and you are gonna fight.”

Ken, toweling the sweat from his brow, chuckled. “He’s right, Rashad. Don’t let your hot breath overcook them.” The laid-back drummer rarely spoke, but when he did, no one could predict what would come out of his mouth.

“Hardy har har.” Rashad gave Darius a slap on the back before disappearing into the condo through the open French doors.

Darius shook his head. They were a crazy bunch, but that was part of their charm. “That goes for all of you. Go wash them funky, sweaty hands before you come near my food. And put on some damn shirts while you’re at it.” The last thing he wanted was a bunch of sweaty shirtless dudes hanging around his culinary masterpiece.

While they went inside to do as they’d been told, he moved to the round table a few feet away from the grill. There, he’d set up the side items: grilled corn on the cob, baked beans and a Caesar salad. He placed the platter of steaks in the middle and set out the matching plates and the silverware. Then he lifted the lid of the cooler on the patio floor near the railing and pulled out four ice-cold beers.

By the time the guys returned, hands clean and chests covered, he was already sitting down, looking out over the water. They joined him around the table, loaded their plates and dug in.

Later, they were still reclining in their seats as the sun began to dip on the horizon. The bands of color seemed to go on forever, until they met with the rising waves. The sound of lapping water could be heard in the silence, along with the calls of a few seagulls.

Ken drained the last of his beer. “That’s a beautiful sight, man.”

Marco nodded, tossing his own empty bottle into the recycling bin. “Sure is.”

“Yep. Wish I could stay longer, but I gotta go to work in the morning.” Rashad stood up from the table, dragging his long dreadlocks into a ponytail at the base of his neck.

Darius groaned. “Aw, come on, y’all. You just gonna abandon a brother like that? How can you walk away from a sunset this magnificent?”

Marco snickered. “Easy. I just think about my mortgage.”

“I work for the county, dude. I can’t just not show up—my assistant will be happy to take my job in my absence.” Rashad worked as register of deeds for Mecklenburg County.

Darius turned to Ken. “What about you? You work for yourself. Don’t you wanna hang out here for a few more days, and enjoy the place with me?”

“I would, man, but I didn’t bring my computer.” Ken offered a shrug. “No laptop, no work.”

Marco leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head. “I could be convinced to stay if you pay my mortgage.”

“I’m with Marco. Pay my bills and I’ll hang out with you as long as you want, D.” Rashad cocked a thick eyebrow, waiting for his response.

Darius looked at his watch. “Um, never mind. Y’all better get out of here.”

Chuckling, Marco got up. “Yeah, I thought so. We’ll see you when you get back to Charlotte.”

“Bye.” Darius watched his buddies file into the condo to get their things. A short time later, he waved to them as their vehicles pulled out of the small lot in front of his condo.

Back inside his condo, he stripped out of his T-shirt and athletic shorts to climb into a hot shower. He stood there, enjoying the multiple jets of steamy water hitting his body from all angles. Once he’d dried off, he slipped into a pair of black boxers and stretched across his bed.

He mused on when he’d go back to Charlotte and decided he’d head back in a few days. He had a pet-sitter who looked after his golden retriever, Chance, so he’d just let her know when he was coming back. He would have loved to bring Chance along on the trip, but for some reason the dog hated Marco. Every time the dog got within ten feet of Mr. Costa Rico Suave, he growled and bared his teeth. What made it particularly weird was that Chance loved Ken and Rashad, the maid, the mailman and just about any other person who came by the house. Knowing Chance would’ve freaked the hell out if he had to be near Marco over the weekend, he’d decided to leave the dog with the sitter. But when he traveled alone to his vacation place, Chance was always by his side.

The faint sounds of the water splashing against the shore reminded him that he’d left the patio doors open. He got up to close and lock them, and to crack the kitchen windows to allow the breeze to flow in, before sprawling across the bed once again. He reached behind him and grabbed the remote from the niche in his headboard.

He turned on the fifty-inch flat-screen television occupying a wall of the bedroom and flipped through the channels. He paused at one of those dating reality shows, where some guy in a suit was offering a flower to a squealing girl in a too-tight dress, and scoffed. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in true love, but he damn sure didn’t believe it could be found on some corny, scripted show. He couldn’t figure out why those shows were so popular, but he guessed there had to be someone, somewhere, who really thought you could find love that way.

But he’d witnessed true love as a kid, so he knew it existed. He’d also seen what losing a true love could do to a man, when his mother had waltzed out the door, proclaiming her urge to sing was stronger than her maternal instincts. The day she’d left him and his father to fend for themselves was a day he couldn’t forget, no matter how he tried. He’d seen his father, the man he looked up to and respected more than anyone in the world, reduced to tears that day. And even at a young age, he understood that his father was in pain, and that he never wanted to suffer that way.

Still, as he stretched out in the king-sized bed, he had to admit that it might be nice to have a beautiful woman pressed up against him. He wrapped himself up in the crisp white sheets, which was as close as he was going to get to being held tonight. Sure, there were one or two ladies he could call on to warm his bed, but they didn’t really meet his requirements. A woman he would fully let into his life would have to be intelligent, independent and graceful, but most of all, she’d have to be loyal. He required nothing less than total devotion from a woman, because he had no plans of ending up like his father; disrespected, disgraced and deserted.4

She would also have to accept the fact that he didn’t have any desire to get married. To him, marriage represented nothing more than a legal contract, a piece of paper for the paperwork jockeys who worked down at the county courthouse with Rashad to sign off on. His parents had been married, but that hadn’t stopped his mother from dishonoring her vows and basically spitting in his father’s face when she left him. Why bother going through all the trouble of signing something, having a ceremony and putting on airs? None of that meant anything without a true commitment, and as far as he was concerned, there were already enough pretenses in the world.

The buzzing of his cell phone drew him back to reality. Reaching over to where it lay on the nightstand, he picked it up and looked at the display. The caller ID said Unknown, and he wondered who would be calling him on a Sunday night. Curious, he lightly touched the screen twice, answering the call and engaging the speakerphone.

“Hello?”

“Darius, is that you?” The female voice on the line sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place it. Since he’d had the same cell phone number since grad school, there was really no telling who it was.

“Yes, who’s this?” He stared at the phone’s screen.

A few moments passed in silence, as if the woman were hesitant to reveal her identity. Finally, she took a deep breath. “This is Louise Franklin.”


Chapter 2 (#ulink_19f21753-ccaf-5b69-9682-97f52d8eff1c)

Eve secured the crystal-beaded elastic around her low bun, then gave her reflection a final glance in the mirror. Satisfied with the look of her chocolate-brown pantsuit, gold jewelry and muted makeup, she flicked off the light on her vanity and rose to her feet. She was due at the monthly board meeting in less than an hour, and she knew she needed to get on the road in order to avoid the usual traffic in downtown Charlotte.

Within a few minutes, she’d made herself a cup of coffee and a bagel, grabbed her purse and briefcase, and flown out the door.

She strolled into the boardroom ten minutes before the meeting was set to begin. Glancing around the room, she could see that the seats around the long polished table were empty. Confused, she paused a moment, then backtracked to the open conference room door. There, a simple typed sign had been affixed to the glass. She read it—the board meeting had been postponed until 10 a.m. the next day. No explanation had been given.

She shrugged and returned to the corridor to get back on the elevator. The conference room was on the building’s third floor, along with the employee lounge and the security offices. Her office was on the seventh floor, where the entire finance department was housed. She slipped into the car, jabbed the appropriate button on the elevator’s panel and waited for the doors to close.

A half a second before the doors could meet, a hand wedged between them, making them part again. Her gaze followed the rather large hand up an arm clothed in a raven-black suit, the cuff of a cherry-red shirt visible at the wrist.

The doors opened fully, and in stepped the finest brother she’d ever had the pleasure of laying her eyes on. He wore a gray, red and black striped tie, a bold complement to the well-cut suit and crisp shirt. His hair was close cut, a neat fade. His chiseled, bronze-toned face was framed by a carefully trimmed beard and mustache. Two dark, mesmerizing eyes fixed on her, and two full lips turned up into a sinfully sexy smile. “Good morning.”

For a moment, she just stood there, staring. The second he’d stepped into the space, he’d brought with him an intoxicating, masculine aroma. She picked up notes of sandalwood, eucalyptus and something else she couldn’t quite identify.

Exhaling, she tried to form a verbal response, though her brain was a bit slow to cooperate. When she found her voice, she returned his greeting.

If he noticed how dumbfounded she looked, he didn’t mention it. He gripped the strap of the attaché case slung over his shoulder with one hand, and used his free hand to press the button for the eighth floor. “Good, you’re already going up. Wouldn’t want to keep a lovely lady like yourself from any important appointments.”

She tried to stop herself, but before she knew it, her tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip. Damn, this man was fine. So fine she could barely think. Looking at him was like looking at the sun—awfully pretty, but it sure did make your eyes hurt. Rather than put her foot in her mouth, she simply smiled and nodded.

No one said anything for the few moments they shared the elevator car. She was perfectly fine with pressing her back into the corner, gripping the handrail and staring at his back. The dark suit fit him so well it must have been custom-made. Despite her father’s efforts to hire on as many people of color as possible, there just weren’t that many brothers working at FTI. That was why a well-dressed brother like him stood out, or at least that was what she told herself.

As the automated voice announced their arrival at the seventh floor, she extricated herself from the corner and prepared to get off. The doors opened, and she attempted to ease by him without making eye contact.

She succeeded in doing that, but didn’t manage to evade him entirely. As he stuck his arm out to make sure the doors didn’t shut on her, his hand brushed against her arm. She glanced back, and found his smiling eyes on her.

“Have a great day, beautiful.” He gave her a wink.

She stepped back, out into the hallway, and the elevator doors closed. Just like that, Mr. Sexy Mystery Man was gone. That disappointed her a bit, but at least she could think straight now that he’d taken his sexiness and delicious scent elsewhere.

Swiveling to her right, she strode down the hall toward her corner office. By now, her secretary should have some coffee made—maybe a kick of caffeine would help her concentrate on her work and put the fine, nameless brother out of her mind.

Stepping into her custom-designed office put a smile on her face, as it did most days. Her parents had given her free reign to decorate the office in any manner she liked. She’d chosen a calming color palette of cream and periwinkle. The brocade-textured wallpaper, shelving units and furniture all reflected her tastes. She’d had light oak hardwood floors put in, and covered them with soft throw rugs in muted shades of blue. The theme started in the reception area, and carried through her personal office and washroom.

In the reception area, she found Mimi Chin, her secretary, stationed at her desk. After they’d exchanged greetings, Eve made a beeline for the coffeepot. The smell of the brew met her before she was fully in the room, and she noticed it was stronger than what she usually drank. Picking up the pot, she turned toward Mimi. “What’s this?”

“French roast. I try to make something with a little more gusto on board-meeting days.” Mimi was typing furiously on her keyboard, and didn’t look up.

“Thanks.” Even though the board meeting had been delayed, she could still use the kick to get her going.

As she headed toward the door to her private office, her phone buzzed. Removing it from the outer pocket of her leather hobo, she looked at the screen.

It was a text from Lina. Opening it, she found a picture attached of Lina and two of their girlfriends in bathing suits, standing on the beach. The message read, Girl, you missed it!

She smiled, shaking her head. Lina was about as straitlaced as could be when it came to her work as an attorney specializing in employment law. But when Lina cut loose, she did it like she was doing it for TV. She spent another moment looking at the picture, and was about to close it and tuck her phone away when she noticed something in the background.

Or rather, someone.

Standing behind her friends, mere feet away, was a handsome man, wearing nothing but a pair of bright blue swim trunks and a silver chain. The photo had been taken with him in midair, smacking a volleyball over the net. His muscled arms and chest glistened in the sunlight as he hovered a couple of inches off the ground. Dark shades obscured his eyes, but the distinctive facial hair was a dead giveaway.

The man in the picture was the same man who’d stolen her breath when he stepped into her elevator car.

* * *

Fingers laced together, Darius tucked his hands behind his head. He’d been told to make himself comfortable in the swanky eighth-floor office he’d been directed to, and was taking those instructions to heart. The burgundy chair he sat in was so comfortable he never wanted to get up. He could feel his butt sinking into the fabric, and sighed with pleasure. There was nothing like a comfortable chair to put him in a good mood. As a bonus, the chair faced a wall made entirely of glass, giving him an impressive view of the Queen City’s lush skyline beneath a sun-filled sky.

It had been years since he’d been in this building, let alone this office. Back then, he’d been fresh out of school and eager to learn everything he could about software development. His passion for innovation had been at its zenith. There was no way he could have guessed that his enthusiasm for designing programs would be extinguished by the rigors of the business side of things. The day he’d graduated, he thought he’d spend his life in the field. But in reality, he’d spent less than ten years in the industry before he became burned out.

His thoughts drifted to the lovely lady he’d been on the elevator with earlier. She was taller than most of the women he ran into, though still nowhere near his six-foot-three-inch frame. Aside from that, she had a figure that could only be described as voluptuous—full breasts, a tapered waist and round hips, all encased in a little brown pantsuit. While the suit was very professional and not at all revealing, it did nothing to hide her shape and he was glad of it. He clearly recalled the way her glossy, straight brown hair was tucked into a demure looking bun. It looked so soft, he’d had to shove his hands in his pockets to keep from touching it. But the thing about her that really got his blood flowing was her lips—plump, pouty, perfect. She’d painted them with some kind of shimmery raspberry-colored gloss that made them look incredibly tempting. If his boys had been in the elevator with him, they’d probably have come to blows over who would get to ask her out.

Behind him, the double doors of the office opened, then closed again, but he didn’t turn around. He was too busy enjoying the view.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Darius.” Joseph Franklin marched across the room to engulf Darius in a paternal embrace. Then he took a seat behind the big desk between Darius’s comfy chair and the wall of windows. “What has it been, three or four years since I’ve seen you? How have you been?”

“Yeah, it’s been about that long. I’ve been great. Retirement suits me quite nicely.” Taking in the sight of his mentor, he could see the older man had changed a lot since he’d last seen him. His shoulders slumped just a bit, his kind face had many new lines and his once dark hair had gone gray. In a word, Franklin looked tired. “How about you?”

“Busy, but good.” Franklin leaned back in the leather executive chair, running his fingertips through his graying beard.

Never one for small talk, Darius thought it prudent to proceed with the matter at hand. “I was surprised to hear from Mrs. Franklin the other night. I talked to her for a little while, but just so I’m clear, what is it you need me to do?”

Joseph hesitated for a moment, then sighed. “I know you’re enjoying your leisure, but I could really use your expertise here at FTI.”

“Okay. So you want me on a freelance basis? Some consulting?” He would do what he could to help the older man out. After all, he’d gotten his start in the tech world under Franklin’s watchful tutelage.

“The role would be a little more involved than consulting, Darius.”

Darius was becoming more and more impatient to find out what exactly Franklin wanted. He leaned forward in his seat. “What are you really asking me for, Mr. Franklin?”

“Why so formal? Call me Joe.” A ghost of a smile crossed his face.

His eyebrow hitched up. “Ok, Joe, what are we really talking about here?”

Joseph leaned forward, braced his arms on the surface of the big desk. “Darius, I’d like you to take over as CEO.”

Darius blinked, then focused on Franklin’s face again. Had he heard what he thought he heard? “Excuse me?”

“This isn’t easy for me to ask of you, Darius.”

He raised his hand, scratched his chin. His first instinct was to say no. All he wanted to do was extract his butt from the seductive chair, leave the building and get back in his car so he could go home and practice for his band’s next gig. His time was his own now, and that was just the way he liked it. No clock to punch, no boss to answer to and the freedom to pursue his own interests, any way he saw fit. He was living the life most people dreamed of, and at a very young age. He’d received plenty of offers and requests to come back to the tech business since he’d gone into retirement, but this time was different. If it hadn’t been for Franklin, he might never have had the means to take his retirement when he did. How could he flatly turn down the man who’d given him his first shot in this game? The answer was simple: he couldn’t.

Still, there was another contingency here, one that needed to be discussed. “What about your daughter? I assumed she’d be the one to take over things here when you retired.”

Franklin rose from his chair, easing toward the windows. His eyes seemed focused on the goings-on outside as he spoke. “So did I. But she isn’t ready quite yet.” His flat tone conveyed a measure of disappointment.

Having never met Franklin’s daughter, he didn’t know what her skill set was. During the time he’d been at FTI, she’d been in college and studying abroad. She might be less than prepared in Franklin’s eyes, but he found the old man’s assessment a little blunt. “Come on now, Joe. Any daughter of yours has got to be bright enough to learn the ropes, with time and training.”

He shook his head, still gazing out the window. “True, but time is a luxury I don’t have anymore. I waited too long to train her the way I should have—I thought she would’ve caught on a bit faster on her own. Now...” He stroked a hand over his head, but didn’t complete the statement.

A few moments passed in silence before Darius spoke. “Is there something else I need to know?”

“My health isn’t at its best, Darius. I’m going in for some tests this week, because if I don’t, my wife won’t give me a moment’s peace. I really don’t know what the doctor is going to tell me, but I know I’m not getting any younger.”

“And there’s no one you could promote from within the company ranks?”

Franklin shook his head. “I believe what FTI really needs is a cutting-edge, youthful approach. Besides, you’ve got the brightest technological mind to ever grace the halls of this building.”

“I appreciate that.” He could see where this was headed. Clasping his hands together, he took a moment to collect his thoughts. There was nothing interfering with his ability to do what Franklin was asking of him, though taking the job might interfere with his involvement with the Gents. Undeniably, he owed this man a debt of thanks for the role he’d played in starting his career. “If you really feel you need me, I’ll do it. But how does your daughter feel about all of this?” He searched his memory banks, but couldn’t recall her name.

For several seconds, the only sounds Darius heard were the ringing phones and low conversation beyond the doors of the private office. He folded his arms and waited, wondering what he’d gotten himself into. “Joe?”

“I’m not entirely sure. We haven’t discussed it with her yet. Either way, she’s not ready and you’re the one I want.”

Darius rolled his eyes, letting loose an exasperated sigh. “Joe, we both know that if she doesn’t agree with our little arrangement, she’s likely going to make my job very difficult.”

The old man returned to his desk, leaned over it and made eye contact with him. “Look, I may be uncertain of Eve’s leadership ability, but I don’t doubt her professionalism. So give her a chance before you make assumptions about her, all right?”

So that was her name. Picking up on the defensive edge in Franklin’s tone, he shrugged. “Fair enough.” His mentor seemed pretty torn about this whole thing—going from saying his daughter wasn’t ready to assume command, to praising her professionalism in a matter of minutes. He glanced at his watch. “So, what’s the salary? And is this a temporary position?”

“I’m not sure of the duration—that depends on Eve, and how soon she can be groomed. You’ll get a competitive salary, full benefits and vacation time, of course.”

It was a reasonable compensation offer, perhaps even a bit more than he warranted. “Sounds good.” He reached across the table to shake hands with his mentor. “I’ll do the best job I can, Joe.”

“I have no doubt of that.” Franklin stood, gesturing toward the door. “I won’t hold you up all day, but we do have a board meeting tomorrow at ten. I’d like you to be there, so I can introduce you to everyone.”

“I’ll be here.”

Pondering the many possibilities of this new venture, Darius bid his mentor goodbye and slipped out of the large office, shutting the door behind him.


Chapter 3 (#ulink_c7f28590-6723-5ce0-8e5f-1ccfea3df1af)

Eve joined her parents in the sunroom, carrying the tray of Italian fare she’d ordered for dinner. Her mother had thrown open a few of the windows, letting the late-summer breeze blow through the room. Setting the tray down on the mosaic dining table, she began taking the lids off the containers. “I got some primavera for you, Daddy, chicken Parmesan for you, Mama, and a little baked ziti for me.”

While she considered herself a woman of many talents, cooking wasn’t one of them. Her parents were well aware of her lack of culinary skills, so they weren’t surprised when she’d brought over the food prepared by her favorite private chef, Alfonzo. Some of the wealthiest families in the area could be counted among his clients.

She sat down and reached for the pitcher of iced tea on the table—the one thing she had made herself—and filled her glass. She was about to take a sip when she stopped, holding the glass in midtip. Her mother and father were staring at her, both with odd looks on their faces. “What’s the problem? Why are you guys staring at me like that?”

No answer. Instead, her parents’ gazes shifted, until they were looking at each other.

“Mama?”

Louise sighed.

Her brow furrowing, she turned to her father. “Daddy? What in the world is going on?”

Joseph picked up his glass, took a long draw of tea. “Well, baby, we have some news.”

“Okay. What is it?” She rested her palms on the table, and waited.

“First, you’ll be glad to know I made a doctor’s appointment. I’m going in on Friday for a whole slew of tests.”

She nodded, offering a smile. “That is good news. But I feel like there’s something else.”

Louise spoke up. “There is. Your father is retiring, finally.”

Eve reached across the table to grasp his hand. When she did, she found it to be a bit cool and clammy. “I’m proud of you for putting your health first, Daddy. And I want you to know I’m going to make you proud. I’ll lead FTI as honorably as you have.”

He cleared his throat, his gaze drifting away from hers.

Something wasn’t right.

She felt the tension in the room begin to creep into her shoulders and neck. Still holding his hands, she stared at him. “Daddy, what is it you’re not saying?”

He looked at her, but only briefly. Then he cast his eyes down again, as if studying the carpet beneath his slipper-clad feet. “Lord. I didn’t think this would be so hard.”

Now she was worried. Her pulse sped up, her mouth went dry. What were they keeping from her? “Will somebody please tell me what is going on?”

“I’m sorry, baby. So sorry.” He had yet to look up,

This was getting pretty disconcerting. First they’d stared at her, now her father was taking evasive maneuvers to avoid looking at her, and apologizing on top of that? Something had to give.

The silence grew thick, palpable. Her brow creasing into a frown, she looked to her mother for an explanation.

“Your father and I discussed it, and we don’t feel you’re quite ready for the CEO position, at least not yet.” Her mother’s eyes were damp, and held what appeared to be sympathy.

The words hit her like a handful of crushed ice to the face. She jerked back in her seat, drew her hand away from her father’s. “What do you mean, I’m not ready? I’ve been with FTI my whole professional life—everything I’ve done was in preparation for this day.”

“I know, Eve,” her father said. “But you’re still in need of a bit more training in the operations of the company. When you’re ready, the job is yours.” He reached for his glass of tea.

This was the last thing she’d expected to hear. She’d been watching her father run FTI all her life. Some of her earliest memories were of toddling around the Franklin Technologies building and sitting in her father’s big chair, coloring on scrap paper. Aside from that, she held an MBA with honors and had been closely studying the inner workings of the company for the past several years. She worked hard every day at the top of the finance department, so how could they think she wasn’t ready? “Who’s going to take over now, until I’m ‘ready’?” She emphasized the last word, struggling to remain respectful to her parents despite the negative emotions swirling inside her.

“He’s an old friend, and a brilliant technologist. He’s coming out of retirement to help out, until you’re ready.” He finally made eye contact with her. “I still have every faith in your abilities, Eve. But for now, I feel this is the best way to proceed.”

That drew a bitter chuckle from her lips. So, an old man, and an outsider, was coming into their family business and denying her the chance to run the company? “Seriously, Daddy? You’d rather turn things over to a senior citizen than give me a chance to prove myself?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t say he was old, just that he was an old friend. You’ll meet him at tomorrow’s board meeting. We’ll make the official announcement then.”

“What if I never meet your standards? Will this person get to keep the job, then?”

He pursed his lips. “That’s pretty unlikely, Eve.”

Anger and hurt coursed through her veins. Based on what she was hearing, her opinion on the matter didn’t count, it had already been decided. She looked down at her untouched pasta. While the delicious aroma of garlic, tomato sauce and cheese filled her nostrils, she found she’d lost her appetite. Pushing back from the table, she stood.

“Don’t run off, Eve. Stay and enjoy dinner. We’ll talk this through.” Her mother’s eyes pleaded with her.

“Sorry, Mama. I’m not hungry anymore. Besides, it doesn’t look like there’s anything to talk about. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” Tears stung the corners of her eyes. All she wanted to do was get out of there before they saw her cry. Snatching her cardigan from the back of the chair, she shrugged into it.

Joseph rose to his feet. “Eve, I expect you to be professional about all this. I haven’t lost faith in you, baby. Once you learn how to handle the shareholders, the public relations end and a few other things, you’ll be ready. You’ve got to understand...”

Her eyes locked with his, she ignored the tears streaming down her cheek. “I’m sorry, Daddy, but I don’t understand any of this.”

Before anyone could say another word, she bolted from the room. Tears blinded her path, but she swiped them away as she grabbed her purse and keys from the stone table near the front door.

With her mother calling her name, she flung open the door and ran out, slamming it behind her.

* * *

When Eve walked into the boardroom Tuesday morning, the space was alive with conversation. Most of the seats around the table were full, and as she pulled out her chair to the right of her father’s seat at the head of the table, she exchanged greetings with the other executives and board members present. In a way, this was just like any of the other board meetings she attended on a monthly basis. She knew there would be departmental reports, motions and a matter of dull details to hash out. But today’s meeting would be different, and she wasn’t sure how she’d react when the time came to make the announcement.

Last night, she’d cried herself to sleep. Today, however, she would do her best to honor her father’s request and be professional. The die had been cast, and there was no need of her making a fool of herself in front of everyone. No matter how hard it was, she was going to try to keep her emotions in check, at least until she was alone.

The room continued to fill with people as 10 a.m. approached. Louise came in, sat across from her in the chair to the left of her father’s seat and offered a small smile. Her mother reached across the table’s polished surface and grasped her hand. Eve said nothing, but offered a nod and a small smile of her own in return.

At two minutes till, her father finally strode in. Another man entered the room on his heels, and she felt a charge in the air. The atmosphere changed around her as a familiar scent filled her nostrils.

Her eyes traveled up the body of the man accompanying her father. His muscular frame was draped in a well-fitting gray suit, soft blue shirt and deep blue tie. Her gaze went higher, to meet the man’s face.

The dark eyes met hers, and recognition lit them almost immediately.

Shit!

Her mind registered who he was: the shirtless brother in the background of the picture Lina had texted her. Before she could stop herself, she said aloud, “Oh my God, it’s the elevator and volleyball guy...”

All eyes turned on her, including the sexy ones belonging to the brother in the gray suit.

He’d heard her.

She closed her eyes, and wished the floor would open up and swallow her.

* * *

What is she talking about?

Darius blinked, held his eyes closed for a moment, then opened them again.

But that didn’t change anything. The beautiful woman he’d seen on the elevator yesterday was still there, wide-eyed.

Today she wore a navy blue sheath dress that just grazed her knees. He found he much preferred it to yesterday’s pantsuit, as this getup allowed him an unobstructed view of her long, silky-looking brown legs.

Thinking he should respond to what she’d said, he dragged his eyes upward, toward her face. “I’m sorry, but I can’t say I’ve ever played volleyball in an elevator.” It was a nonsense response to match the nonsense statement, and he hoped it would break the tension hanging between them.

She appeared mortified, her cheeks filled with red. She dipped her head, lay a graceful hand over her brow, as if doing her best to disappear. “That didn’t come out right.”

Aware of the watching eyes of everyone present, he offered an easy chuckle. “Apparently.”

A few laughs sounded around the table.

Someone even made a comment about how the size of an elevator simply wasn’t conducive to a good volleyball game.

“Unless we’re talking about a handheld game,” someone else interjected.

To him, they were just disembodied voices in a crowded room. His eyes stayed on the pretty lady who’d captured his attention the previous day. The one who was now doing her best to avoid looking at him. “It’s all right to misspeak now and then, you know.”

She looked up at him, her face tight, the brown eyes narrowed. “Forget what I said. What I mean is, I’ve seen you before.”

“How could I forget?” He smiled at her, coming a little closer to her seat, and taking her hand. “It’s nice to see you again, Miss...”

Her hand trembled, and as she tilted her face to look at him, a silken lock of her upswept hair fell into her face. He found the sight captivating.

Someone cleared their throat. “I see you’ve met my daughter, Eve.”

He jerked his head around, and saw Franklin there, looking on. Releasing her hand, he studied his mentor, whose face was unreadable. “This is your daughter?”

Franklin nodded in response.

Turning back to her, he met her curious eyes. “Pleased to meet you, again, Miss Franklin. I’m Darius Winstead—an old friend of your father’s.”

In a moment, her expression changed from curiosity to anger. Her lovely brows furrowed, her sweet little painted mouth twisted into a scowl. In an outraged whisper, she said, “You! You’re the old friend?”

Not wanting to rile her any further, he stepped back. “Yes, I guess I am.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it again, as if becoming aware of the other people in the room. Blowing out a loud sigh, she folded her arms over her chest and turned toward the center of the table. She was obviously angry about something. But rather than say anything else, and risk a shouting match with her in front of the people he would soon lead, he rounded the table and took a seat in an empty leather chair across from her. She cut her eyes at him, a brief gesture that communicated her desire to either slap him, or let the air out of his tires, or both. He couldn’t tell and he didn’t want to find out.

So, the gorgeous woman from the elevator was the old man’s daughter. He never would have guessed it, having only seen pictures of her as a child scattered around Franklin’s office. What really upset him, though, was the way she reacted when he’d introduced himself. Why was she so annoyed that he called her father a friend?

Franklin stood behind the chair at the head of the table, and called the meeting to order. Soon the old man had called on the board secretary to read aloud the minutes of the last meeting. Darius knew he should probably pay attention to what was being said, but this was the part of business that bored him into a coma-like state. When he looked across the table at a tight-faced Eve, he saw her drumming the eraser end of a sharpened pencil on the tabletop. At least he wasn’t the only person struggling to stay awake.

To keep his eyelids from growing any heavier, he took a moment to look around the room. It was a very modern space, with soft gray walls and matching carpet. One wall was similar to the one in Franklin’s office, all glass, and looked out onto Trade Street. The other three walls were hung with framed magazine and newspaper articles about FTI, as well as a few pieces of colorful abstract art. The table they were sitting around was long and rectangular, made of glossy polished mahogany or some other dark wood. The twenty or so people present were all sitting in chairs the same shade of dark brown leather, with padded armrests. He shifted in his seat. It wasn’t as comfy as the memory foam one upstairs, but the slight discomfort might be just enough to keep him awake.

He heard Franklin call his daughter’s name and ask her to summarize the past month’s financial reports. She stood, tugging at the hem of the sheath dress. An aide walked over and turned on the projector set up in front of the room’s only blank wall. As the aide operated a laptop slide show, Eve pushed the wayward lock of hair away from her face and began to speak. Angling herself away from him and facing more toward her father, she spoke about profits and losses, overhead and the other particulars of the company budget with confidence. Watching her, it was pretty obvious she knew what she was talking about, and was likely damn good at her job. Why was Franklin so sure she wasn’t ready for the position of CEO? From where he sat, she seemed altogether capable and intelligent.

Once the slide show and her presentation came to an end, she sat down again. Impressed with both her body itself and her body of knowledge, Darius kept his eyes on her for the rest of the meeting.

Finally, mercifully, the meeting came to an end. Most of the people in the room filtered out, but Darius remained, along with Franklin and his daughter. The old man, who’d stood as the board members exited, sat down again. Eve remained in her seat, and they both looked in his direction. Taking the hint, he got up and moved down to the seat Mrs. Franklin had been occupying, with the old man between them.

Franklin started. “Eve, I...”

She cut him off. “Please excuse me, Daddy, but I would really like to know what qualifies your so-called ‘old friend’ to run this company. What kind of experience does he have that I don’t?” She leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table.

Darius heard the challenge in her voice. “Straight to the point, I see. I like that.”

She pursed her lips. “Then why don’t you answer my question, Mr. Winstead?”

So it’s like that. She was going to get formal with him, condescendingly. That was fine. He liked a little spark of excitement in his life. If she wanted to play the game that way, he had no qualms about laying it all out on the table. He sat back in his chair, laced his fingers in front of him. “Please, call me Darius. As for my qualifications, I hold a bachelor of science in computer science, and an MBA as well as a master’s in information technologies. I interned here at FTI in the nineties, owned my own software company, Winstead Development, in the early two-thousands. I invented the first smartphone operating system, sold it and for the past six years I’ve been enjoying a pretty sweet retirement.” He cocked his head to one side. “Does that answer your question?”

Silence.

Her dark lashes fluttered in time with her rapid blinking, the surprise evident on her face. Her cherry-red lips hung just slightly open.

Franklin looked on without a word, although the slight upturn of his mouth gave away his amusement.

The room grew so quiet, he could hear her breathing. For a moment, he watched the rise and fall of her chest as she leaned close over the tabletop.

“Ms. Franklin? Have I sufficiently satisfied your curiosity?” He flexed his fingers.

Closing her mouth, she swallowed. Making direct eye contact with him, she nodded. “Yes, Mr. Winstead. I’d say you have.” She sat up, and pressed her back against the chair’s tall backrest.

Franklin pulled a handkerchief from an inner pocket of his sport jacket, dabbed at the moisture gathering on his brow. “Good. Now I feel I can leave you two alone to get acquainted.” He stood, retrieved his briefcase from the floor and made his way toward the open door. “You two play nice.” With that, he exited.

Darius looked across the table at his new colleague. She’d let her head fall back against the top of the backrest, her eyes focused on the ceiling tiles above them. She used her feet to swivel the chair a few degrees left, then a few degrees right.

He watched her for a few moments. Something was obviously on her mind, but with the bit of tension still hanging in the air, he didn’t know if he should ask.

But finally curiosity got the better of him. “Do you think we can get along, Ms. Franklin? Can we keep this professional?” Before the last word left his lips, he knew it was going to be mighty hard to keep things that way with her. She was a beauty, full of fire and grace, like a Miles Davis recording.

She straightened, looked at him with a slight frown. “Don’t worry. Professionalism is my area of expertise. You are standing between me and my destiny, but I’m not petty.”

He circled the table until he was standing next to her chair. “I don’t doubt it, but that’s not what I meant.”

Her expression changed, and she looked away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, then.”

“Sure you do. From the moment I stepped into that elevator with you yesterday, you’ve been on my mind.” He knew he was taking a risk, but he couldn’t resist. With his fingertips, he touched the edge of her hairline, brushing back the hair that had fallen over her forehead once again. It was just as soft to his touch as he’d imagined it would be. “There’s something between us. Something incredible.”

The smallest of sighs slipped from her lips, and she clamped a hand over her mouth. Shifting in her seat to draw away from his touch, she shook her head. “Let’s not even go down that road.”

He wasn’t about to let Ms. Sassy Mouth squirm her way out of this one. “Are you trying to tell me you don’t feel it?” He touched her again, this time brushing his fingertips against her cheek.

The brief contact was enough to get her to shift again, then stand. When she did, her body was mere centimeters from his. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t date people I work with, Mr. Winstead.”

He smiled. Her mouth was telling him what she didn’t do, but what she hadn’t said resonated with him even more. She hadn’t denied her attraction to him, she’d only dismissed it as irrelevant. He eased nearer to her, closing the gap between them until his chest grazed hers. “I can’t just ignore how you make me feel. But call me Darius, and we can agree to disagree on this.”

“We both know that if I called you by your first name, I’d be encouraging you.” She raised her eyes to meet his, and for a moment, he saw the passion there. Her lips parted, as if she had more to say.

Of their own accord, his fingertips found the softness of her cheek once more. Whatever she was going to say next was muffled as he pressed his lips against hers. The kiss was short, fleeting, but unbearably sweet. Her mouth was softer and more intoxicating than anything he’d ever encountered. When she pulled away, he could feel the buttery remnants clinging to his lips—traces of her cherry lipstick left behind.

In the aftermath, she took a step back but didn’t break eye contact with him. To his mind, she looked conflicted, as if she couldn’t decide what to do or say next.

“Have a good day, Darius.”

The soft-spoken words still hanging in the air, she gathered her purse and slipped from the room.


Chapter 4 (#ulink_16c38299-95c2-59c1-9c92-766de48a25ca)

Around eight that evening, Eve pulled her car into a VIP parking space at the Charlotte Westin. Bar 10, a favorite haunt of Eve, Lina and their book club buddies, dominated the first floor of the hotel. Ophelia, Cara and Tammy weren’t joining them tonight, and she was looking forward to some one-on-one time with her closest friend.

She’d spent the entire crosstown drive replaying her encounter with Darius. There was something about him that made her common sense drain away. How could she have let herself be drawn in by his good looks and smooth talk? She knew better than to start anything with him, regardless of the fact that his good looks made her eyes sting. Yet she’d let him kiss her. She’d had ample time and the opportunity to stop him but she hadn’t. She brought her fingertips to her mouth, remembering what it felt like to have his lips crushed against her own. The memory of his kiss was vivid, intoxicating...and she could never let it happen again.

Realizing she still sat in her car, she unbuckled her seat belt, gathered her keys and purse, and hopped out. The sun hung low on the horizon, almost done with its daily trip across the sky. Up and down College Street, pedestrians strolled by, cars whizzed past and the trees lining the sidewalk swayed in the evening breeze. The beauty of the city wasn’t lost on her, but on days like this it took a bit of extra effort to put her own thoughts aside long enough to enjoy it. Perching her sunglasses on top of her head, she entered the hotel in her favorite pair of pearl-white stilettos and sauntered toward the bar. Her eyes scanned the room for her friend.

The atmosphere at Bar 10 made it the perfect place for Eve and her gal pals to hold court. The large windowed wall facing the street gave a beautiful view of the Queen City and its residents coming and going; the comfortable furniture, tasteful decor and accommodating staff all conspired to create an inviting, relaxing destination at the end of a hard day.

Lina sat near the left side of the bar, in a caramel suede armchair beneath the large window that composed the entire wall. Eve spotted her easily, sitting crossed legged on the chair, wearing her typical evening attire: a silver sequined halter top and black pencil skirt with silver stilettos. A black clutch lay on the floor at her feet. Engrossed in the latest issue of Essence magazine on her lap, she didn’t notice Eve until she slipped into the chair next to her.

“Hey, Eve,” Lina said, looking up from the magazine. “Well, even after surviving another day as a sista in corporate America, you look good, girl.” She glanced out the window, spotting Eve’s car sitting in the lot. “Ready to trade war stories?”

Eve smiled, trying to push away her introspective mood. “Sure. We’ll see who had the most interesting day.”

“So.” Lina crossed her long legs. “What are you drinking?”

To answer her question, Eve flagged down a passing waiter. “Could I get a frozen cosmo, please?”

“And I’ll have a Midori Sour,” Lina added.

“Coming right up, ladies.” The waiter disappeared behind the bar to place their order.

With an exaggerated sigh, Eve dropped her black leather designer bag onto the nearby cocktail table and sank back into her chair. “Well, get ready to hear my latest horror story.”

“Spill it.”

“Well, you know I had to sit through one of those dull-as-hell board meetings this morning, but I do that every month. Today, it was even worse because I met the guy who’s taking my job.”

Lina’s expression conveyed her empathy. “I know you were crushed when your parents told you.”

She shook her head, feeling her emotions rise just thinking about it. “It amazes me that they didn’t even talk to me about it before they made their decision. I’ve been training my whole life for this, and now I’m losing out, just because they doubt my abilities.” She knew her parents hadn’t set out to hurt her, but knowing that they didn’t believe in her at such a critical time was a truly painful thing to accept.

“We both know you’re fully capable of running FTI. Don’t worry, they’ll come around.” Lina placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “What’s this new guy like, anyway? Isn’t he a friend of your dad’s?”

“Yes.” She rolled her eyes, thinking back. “Here I was expecting a baby boomer but the brother who walked in couldn’t be more than thirty-five. So, of course, I’m wondering what a guy this young could possibly have over me, in terms of business acumen and all that.”

Lina’s brow hitched up. “Really? So what does he have?”

She recalled the things Darius had said to her when he’d introduced himself. “He’s young, but experienced. He’s educated, has owned a software business previously and apparently invented the first smartphone operating system before retiring a few years ago.”

“Wow. Sounds impressive.”

She sighed. “Well, he must hear that a lot. This man is so damn arrogant. I mean, he just walked up in there as if he was just crowned king.”

Lina didn’t say anything, but rested her chin in her hands.

“It gets worse. This isn’t the first time I met him.” She grabbed her purse and unzipped the outside compartment, fishing out her phone. “Remember the guy in the elevator the other day, the one I told you about?”

“Oh, yeah. You said he was in the picture I sent you from our girl’s weekend at Emerald Isle.” Lina pulled her own phone out of her skirt pocket. “Wait, do you mean the new CEO is Elevator Volleyball Guy?”

She nodded. “Yes, and I was so shocked I said that out loud and completely embarrassed myself.”

Her friend looked thoughtful for a moment, as if her lawyer mind was working a case. Then, she asked, “If this is the same brother in the picture, with the washboard abs...” She sucked air through her teeth. “Girl, I don’t know how you managed not to lay hands on the brother.”

Eve frowned, placed a hand to her forehead. “Well... I...I mean, we...”

Lina slid forward until she was perched on the edge of her seat. “Whatever it is, you better tell me.”

She hesitated for a moment, then caved to the scrutiny. “He hung around after the meeting. He boldly pointed out that he was attracted to me, and then...kissed me. I didn’t stop him, even though I could have.” Seeing the glint of mischief in her friend’s eyes, she shook her head. “No, Lina. Don’t start.”

“As an attorney, I can tell you that if there’s an antifraternization policy on the books at FTI, you’d better steer clear of him.” Lina leaned back in her chair. “As your girlfriend, though, I’d say you’d better take that stallion for a long ride, honey.”

Eve clamped a hand over her mouth to cover the peals of laughter, but they escaped, anyway. “Lina! You’re outrageous.” She found herself wondering if the company had such a policy, then quickly pushed the thought away. “It doesn’t matter if we have a policy against it or not. I’m not the type who can date someone I work with. It would ruin my focus.”

“Whatever. Like lusting after this dude is going to make you razor sharp.” She winked.

“I’m done talking about this with you, Lina. Now it’s time you told me about your drama.” She scanned the room, wondering where the waiter was with their drinks. All this talk about Darius had her craving the alcoholic beverage.

Lina scoffed. “You’re complaining that a good-looking man is after you. I’m not getting any play at all. Girl, I haven’t been on a date in two months.” She held up her forefinger and middle finger to emphasize her statement. “Two months! I’m about to go straight up crazy.”

“And what’s your excuse? You don’t meet any successful, eligible men in the world of law?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, that’s not it. Everywhere I turn, there’s some fine man in a suit. Judges, other lawyers, that fine-ass bailiff down at the courthouse...” Her words trailed off, and she appeared to be imagining said bailiff in her mind’s eye. “But unlike you, Ms. Executive, I have to be very careful not to violate ethics codes.”

“I could understand that. But is there really a law keeping you from getting busy with the bailiff?”

“Shut up!” Lina shouted with mock irritation, tossing one of her silver stilettos at Eve in a playful manner.

At that moment, the waiter approached with their drinks. After almost dropping the tray down on the cocktail table between their two chairs, he left. Eve and Lina continued giggling as he moved away, and then went back to gossiping.

* * *

Darius strolled into Tibbs Music and More, maneuvering the large protective case holding his bass around until it was safely inside the store. He let the door swing shut behind him and made his way over to the counter. As he walked, he bopped his head to the strains of Esperanza Spalding’s “Little Fly,” which played on the store’s PA system. He enjoyed the music of the young bassist, and also found her wild mane of curls to be very sexy.

Behind the counter, Murphy Tibbs stood, rifling through a box of receipts. “Hey there, Darius. Time for Miss Molly’s tuning and maintenance, eh?”

He nodded as he lifted the case up and set it carefully on the counter. “Sure is, and you know I don’t trust anybody with her but you, Murph.” And that was the truth. Miss Molly was a G. B. Rogeri upright bass, a copy of an instrument originally played by its famous Italian namesake. The bass was top quality, fashioned of hand-planed, hand-varnished maple and spruce. Though Miss Molly was a bit deeper than the average bass, she was an absolute dream to set up and play on stage, and she still fit into a standard case. The one he’d purchased for her, made of Kevlar, had set him back two grand on top of Miss Molly’s $4,500 purchase price. But when he was on stage, jamming with the band and getting lost in the magic of the music, he knew it was money well spent.

“I’m sure you know I value that trust.” Murphy slid the case closer to himself, then carefully moved it to the floor behind the counter. “I’ll have her ready for you bright and early tomorrow morning. Stop back in around nine.”

Darius took his wallet out from the pocket of his khaki trousers and extracted six twenty dollar bills. “Thanks a lot, Murph. See you tomorrow.” After passing the money to the shopkeeper, he turned around and left the store.

Outside, a few clouds passed over, temporarily dimming the bright sunlight streaming from above. He strode to his car, parked a few feet from the door of Tibbs, and slipped inside. Soon he eased his car into the traffic, joining the citizens of Charlotte rushing around to grab their lunch before their breaks expired.

As he sat at a red light, he pondered his current situation. He had a standing appointment, every second Thursday of the month, to drop Miss Molly off for maintenance and tuning. Other than that, Saturday basketball games and band practice, and the Gents’ regular twice monthly gig at the Blue Lounge, he had no other demands placed on his time. Now, however, that was all about to change. Accepting the job as CEO at Franklin Technologies meant doing a favor for his old mentor, but it also meant giving up a lot of the freedom he’d come to enjoy over the past several years.

Taking the ramp onto I-74, he mused on his other problem—Eve. She was obviously none too pleased with him, since she seemed to think of him as an interloper, interfering with her family’s business. He could understand that; after all, he’d warned Franklin that his daughter’s reaction to losing out on the CEO position might be negative. Still, now that he’d reconciled that gorgeous, smoking-hot woman he’d shared the elevator with a few days ago with the snapping, angry-faced daughter of his mentor, he had another dilemma on his hands. How could he convince her to go out with him without further complicating an already awkward situation?





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