Книга - Sex and Lies

Sex and Lies
Donna Hill


She has a secret…The sassy sisters who hawk Tender Loving Care body products are on a mission that goes way beyond fighting wrinkles. These lovely ladies are also undercover operatives in The Ladies Cartel–the flip-side organization of TLC cosmetics. They are so deep under, even their families and spouses don't suspect their real work or know their identities….Executive assistant extraordinaire and TLC agent, sexy Savannah Fields gets her next assignment–investigate corporate espionage at a construction site in NYC. But Savannah is in for the shock of her life when the trail of the dirty dealings, deception and adultery leads right back to her neat suburban split-level…and her hunk of a husband, Blake!









Sex and Lies

Donna Hill







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


To all my readers who have been so supportive

over the years. I thank each and every one of you

from the bottom of my heart.

Donna Hill




Contents


Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Epilogue




Chapter 1


T onight would change her life. She knew it. Anticipation tingled in Savannah’s veins. Had anyone asked her years earlier if she would ever be able to lead a double life, lie to family, friends and her husband about what she did in her spare time, she would have laughed in their faces. She spun her office chair away from her computer screen toward the ringing multiline phone.

“Billings and Tate, Attorneys-at-Law, Savannah Fields speaking.”

“Hi, sweetheart,” came the always chirpy voice.

“Hey, Mom.” Savannah noticed the flashing blip on her computer screen from the corner of her eye, indicating a new e-mail. “What’s up?” she asked as she opened the e-mail and read the note from her boss, Richard Billings. He needed a case file pulled to prepare for court. Savannah switched the call to her headset and walked to the file cabinet.

“I just wanted to remind you about the meeting tonight.”

“I’ll be there. I told Blake we were having our monthly pep meeting.”

Mother and daughter chuckled.

“If Blake only knew what TLC really was,” Claudia said.

“He’d have a fit.” Savannah imagined the expression of appalled disbelief on her husband’s face.

To the casual observer Savannah Fields was a highly paid paralegal for a small but busy corporate law firm in midtown Manhattan and married to Blake Fields, the very sexy architect and builder of upscale apartment complexes and office buildings. They lived a solid, upper-class lifestyle and enjoyed all of its perks. But Savannah, her mother and two dozen more New York women had a life that not even their closest friends would ever suspect.

“Well, tonight is important so try to get there early. I don’t want you to miss out on anything and I want a good seat.”

Savannah flipped through the files until she located the one she was looking for, then pushed the metal drawer shut. “You want me to pick you up?”

“No, I’ll take my car.”

“See you later, Mom, and no speeding,” she warned. Claudia Martin was notorious for her lead foot.

Claudia scoffed at the reprimand. “I’ll try.”

“If you get there before I do, save me a seat. Gotta go. Love you.” She smacked kisses into the phone before disconnecting the call.

“Savannah…”

She looked up into the deep-set green eyes of her boss, who was a dead ringer for an older version of the actor Keanu Reeves.

“Hey, Richard. I have that file for you.” She reached for it on her desk and handed it over.

“Thanks. Look, I know this is short notice but I’m going to need you to stay a little longer tonight.”

Her stomach knotted. “Tonight!” Her normally even timbre rose two octaves as she jerked her neck to the side.

Richard held up his hands and inadvertently took a step back. His friend and business partner Jack Tate had just been talking about a book by playwright and actor Tyler Perry— Don’t Make a Black Woman Take Off Her Earrings. He might not be up on all the black vernacular, but he got the sense that if Savannah took off her earrings at this precise moment he was in trouble.

“You know you will be paid well for the time. But I really need your help preparing for Monday.”

Savannah pursed her lips and folded her arms beneath her C-cup breasts.

“Richard,” she said, assuming her mother tone, “how many times have we been through this?” She pinched her lips and titled her head to the side.

Richard’s hopeful expression turned sheepish. “I—”

She threw up her hand, palm facing Richard. “Don’t answer. It was a rhetorical question. You can’t keep waiting until the last minute. I know you’re a brilliant attorney, which I hope to aspire to one day. But in the meantime I have a life, which begins promptly at 5:01 p.m.” Her right brow rose to emphasize her point.

Richard took the well-deserved tongue lashing. They’d had this conversation at least once every couple of months for the past five years that they’d worked together. Savannah would chew him out, he took it and eventually she would help him out.

Any other time her “Richard traumas,” which she’d dubbed these episodes, wouldn’t be more than a minor annoyance, but today was different. However, she also knew that no matter what, Richard never asked her to do anything if he didn’t really need her help—which was a lot.

Savannah blew out a breath. It was going to be a long night, but she could swing it.

“Fine,” she conceded as they both knew she would. “But I’m warning you, I’m leaving at 7:00 p.m. sharp. And if you’re not done then you explain to your client why he’s going to jail.”

Richard grinned, the dimple in his left cheek flashing. “Fair enough.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You’re the best.”

“I know,” she grumbled, and reached for the ringing phone while waving Richard away.

“Billings and Tate…”

“Hey, baby.”

Savannah’s insides did a slow sensuous dance. Her eyes darkened and a warm smile moved languidly across her mouth.

“Hey, baby, yourself.” She cuddled the phone close to her. “How’s everything?”

“Busy as usual,” Blake said with a light chuckle.

Savannah and Blake had been married for six years. Most people thought they were still newlyweds. Savannah adored her husband. He was the man she’d dreamed about since she was a little girl and when they met at an out of the way lounge in the West Village she knew that dreams did come true.

The attraction between them from the very first night was comparable to what authors who write romance novels call “hot and instantaneous.” Blake wasn’t just good-looking—Blake Fields was f-i-n-e, with a capital F. It always amazed her that she was the one who landed him. She knew she was no showstopper. Actually she was quite ordinary looking and had to watch her weight with the diligence of a priest trying to save souls—it was an unending job. But she cleaned up well, as she would tell herself when she looked in the mirror. She knew all the makeup tricks and what clothes complemented her solid frame. More often than not, many people mistook her for Nia Long. Not to mention that Savannah could make Blake Fields see heaven when they made love.

“Busy is good,” she said in response to his statement.

“I think I’m going to have some exciting news to share but I don’t want to be premature.”

Savannah grew jumpy with excitement. “You know I hate secrets,” she pleaded, although she kept plenty herself. “Can’t you at least give me a hint?”

“Okay, you beat it out of me.” He cleared his throat. “Remember I told you about the housing-complex deal that was on the table?”

“Yes.” Her pulse kicked up a notch and she held her breath. The housing complex would revitalize downtown Brooklyn and was touted to be the biggest single development in decades in the area.

“W-ell…” He drew out the word.

“Come on Blake,” Savannah begged.

“We won the bid and they love my design.”

“Blake!” she squealed, and jumped up from her seat. “Oh, my goodness, that’s incredible. I knew you could do it, baby.”

Blake laughed deep in his throat. “I am sailing! This is major. This project is so high profile. I’m going to be on the map for good.”

“I’m so proud of you,” she said, breaking down each word.

“This calls for a celebration. I thought we could go out tonight.”

The wheels of elation came to a grinding halt.

“Tonight?” she croaked.

“Yeah.” He paused. “Oh, you have that thing tonight.”

She heard the disappointment in his voice. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to think. There was no getting around missing the meeting at TLC, not to mention the extra time she would have to spend at work.

“Look, I’ll be finished by nine, nine-thirty. It’s Friday. Let’s go for a late dinner and spend the day in bed tomorrow.”

“Hmm, I like the sound of that already,” he said, perking right up. “I’ll make reservations at The Cabaret and I’ll leave tomorrow in your very capable hands.”

“Perfect,” she purred into the phone. “I’ll meet you at the restaurant no later than ten.”

“Can’t wait. I’ve been aching for you all day,” Blake said, his voice growing thick.

Savannah squirmed in her seat and licked her lips. “I’ll make it worth your while,” she cooed.

“I intend to hold you to that. See you tonight.”

“Love you,” she whispered.

“Love you right back.”

Slowly Savannah hung up the phone. Well, she certainly had her day cut out for her.




Chapter 2


B lake hung up the phone just as his assistant Jasmine poked her head in the partially open door.

“Blake, they’re waiting for you in the conference room.”

“Thanks, J. I’ll be right there.” He took his jacket from the back of his chair and put it on as he walked out. Jasmine handed him a manila folder as he passed her desk.

This meeting would be brief, Blake mused as he continued down the short hallway. Tristan Montgomery said she wanted to confirm some dates. That was something that could have easily been taken care of on the phone, but Ms. Montgomery never missed an opportunity to visit his office under one pretext or another.

“Sorry for the wait,” he said, opening the door and stepping right inside. He shook hands with Tristan and then her latest assistant. As usual Tristan was dressed to exploit all of her attributes. Today it was a burnt orange number that dipped a little too low for nine to five.

“Not a problem,” Tristan said. “Jasmine made us very comfortable.” She let her eyes wander up and down his body.

Blake cleared his throat and smoothed down his tie as he sat. “So what do you need clarified, Ms. Montgomery?”

She pouted. “Please, Blake, we’re in bed together, so to speak. You can at least call me Tristan.” She rocked him with her expensive smile.

Blake sidestepped the comment and straightened his tie again. He opened the folder that Jasmine had given him before glancing up and across the hardwood table. Tristan was staring at him as if he were a rare delicacy that had been set on the table for lunch. He wanted to tug his tie off. It was suddenly cutting off his circulation. Being in the same room with Tristan Montgomery always did that to him.

She was one of the few black elite that was born into money. Her late father, Graham Montgomery built his fortune in the real-estate game. He’d started off by renting apartments for a small agency. Learning everything he could about investment property, he bought his first building at the age of twenty-five. Upon his untimely death at sixty-two, Graham Montgomery was a billionaire with property dotting across the country, from high-rise office buildings to luxury condos and strip malls. Before his death he started to stake a claim on one of the Hawaiian Islands. With his passing, his only child inherited it all.

“Uh, based on the rollout schedule I don’t anticipate any problems,” Blake said, keeping the conversation on track and his eyes on the documents in front of him.

Tristan slowly rose from her seat and rounded the table like a panther on the prowl until she stood slightly behind him. She placed her hand on his shoulder and leaned down to read the notes in front of him. Her left breast brushed his shoulder.

Blake tugged at his tie. “I was pretty sure that Jasmine gave you a copy,” he said, trying to keep his voice light.

“You know how it is with copies…”

He was forced to look up at her. “No, actually I don’t.”

Tristan grinned and eased back. “They’re nothing like the real thing,” she said as she returned to her seat with the folder in her hand. She made show of reviewing the timeline.

“Were there any questions that you had in particular?”

“Actually, yes.” She flipped the folder shut. “With you being so busy with the design and overseeing construction, when will you ever have any free time?”

“Excuse me?” He couldn’t believe that she went there—and in front of someone else. Maybe this was all some kind of game, a test of some sort.

“You know the old saying—all work and no play…”

“I’m sure I’ll find time to relax. My main priority at the moment is getting this job up and running. That’s it,” he added, looking her deep in the eyes.

She lifted her chin ever so slightly. “I’m sure you have everything under control. But since it’s my money that is financing it, I want to make sure that every i is dotted and every t is crossed.”

“Of course. I can assure you that there is nothing to worry about.” He glanced from one woman to the other then stood, hoping she would get the hint. “Is there anything else that we need to discuss?”

“Yes, your availability next week.”

He frowned. “Excuse me?”

“I’m hosting a dinner party at my penthouse next week.” She picked up her clutch purse from the table. “There are several people I want you to meet, potential clients.”

“Sounds wonderful. Both me and my wife, Savannah, love dinner parties.” He reached across the table, snatched up the folder and tucked it beneath his arm.

Her eyes tightened just a hint. “I’ll be sure to get all the details to Jasmine.”

“Great. I’ll walk you both to the elevator.” He held the door open for her. When she passed she ran her hand along the sleeve of his suit jacket.

“Armani?”

Blake swallowed. “Yes.”

She grinned, her hazel eyes darkened. “I can always tell. You’re a man with good taste. I like that in a man.” She brushed by him and walked out.

Once they were gone, Blake released his long breath of tension. He stopped at Jasmine’s desk. “Listen, the next time that woman comes here you make sure you buzz me after five minutes.”

Jasmine tried not to laugh. “Don’t tell me she hit on you.”

“I won’t.” He walked off to his office.

Once inside the safety of his own space, he took his tie off completely. Tristan was a gorgeous woman there was no doubt about that. And he knew a come on when he saw one. In all the years of his marriage he had never strayed or contemplated straying. He was more than happy with Savannah and he didn’t need the distraction of a hot socialite to ruin his track record. He certainly hoped that Ms. Montgomery stayed on her side of the dividing line. Mixing business with pleasure could bring nothing but trouble.

He reached for the phone to make reservations for dinner. A pleasant dinner with his wife and a long night of good loving was just the thing he needed to dislodge the memory of Tristan’s lush body brushing up against his.

Just as he finished with his phone call and had his reservation confirmed for ten, his close friend and business partner, Steven Long, knocked on the door.

“Come in.” He hung up the phone. “Hey, man.”

“Hey, yourself.” He stepped inside. “I got a whiff of Ms. Hotstuff.” He chuckled. “What brings her to our neck of the woods again?”

“Nothing that couldn’t have been handled on the phone. She claimed she wanted to go over the rollout schedule.”

“But what she really wanted was to roll you out.” He plopped down in a chair opposite Blake.

“Very funny.”

“But true. That woman has a thing for you, man. Every time you step into the room her eyes light up.”

Blake grimaced. “I’m a married man.”

“I really don’t think she cares.”

“Is it that obvious that she’s…”

“I’ll put it this way, even Stevie Wonder could see it.”

Blake shook his head. “I’m trying to keep this all on the up and up. The last thing I need is to get our wires crossed.”

“Like I said, she doesn’t care. But, hey, if you don’t want it feel free to send her in my direction. I sure as hell wouldn’t throw her out of bed.”

Steve was a notorious hound from back in their college days at Moorehouse University. He’d slowed down just a little when they headed off to MIT for grad school where they received their engineering and architectural degrees, but Steven still needed a secretary to keep up with the women he dated. Not much had changed in the years since. It totally escaped Blake why Tristan had latched on to him and not Steven who was single and always available.

“She’s having some kind of gathering at her penthouse next week.”

“You know how I love hotsy-totsy parties,” he joked.

“Yeah, anyway, she’s supposed to send over the information to Jasmine. Said she has some people she wants me to meet—potential business.”

Steven nodded. “Cool. I’ll pencil her in. Wonder if she is going to have any of her rich, single girlfriends around.”

Blake held up his hand. “Don’t even think about it. I don’t want to screw up this deal when some fling of yours goes bad—as they tend to do.”

Steven held his hand to his chest. “You wound me, dawg. Can I help it if I have a short attention span and the ladies can’t take goodbye for an answer?”

“Whatever. Just don’t mess this up.”

“I don’t think it’s me you have to worry about. Ms. Thing isn’t one to take no for an answer and sooner or later she’s gonna want yours.”

Blake shot him a look of disregard but the truth of the matter was that Steven was right.




Chapter 3


S avannah’s three-inch heels clicked like shotgun fire against the concrete of the underground employee parking lot. Her navy blue skirt suit with the pristine white tank top and a strand of real pearls around her slender neck gave her the appearance of the legal eagle she could easily become.

For a woman of only five foot five she had a long stride. She swore it came from her devout adherence to Pilates. She believed she could use all the help she could get in keeping her weight under control and giving her compact body more of a sleek and lean appearance. And as she had come to discover since becoming a member of TLC, looks were definitely deceiving.

She used her remote to disengage the alarm on her black SUV and hopped up inside. The garage had a few cars left of those still burning the after-hour oil. She checked the dashboard clock against her watch—seven-forty. She cussed under her breath and put the SUV in gear, her skirt rising up her thighs to a provocative level. She’d wound up staying longer than she’d planned and now she would really have to make double-time.

Quickly maneuvering around pillars and yellow directional arrows, she used her monthly pass card and zipped up the exit ramp and out into the approaching twilight. As she made her way to the FDR she silently prayed that traffic would be light. She entered the FDR from 34th street and went north. Thankfully there was an open lane and she grinned as she watched the speedometer climb to 70 mph. At that pace she’d reach Harlem in about fifteen minutes.

In record time, she pulled onto the street that housed TLC headquarters, which was tucked away in an upscale brownstone directly across the street from the Pause for Men day spa. If she wasn’t a married woman she could certainly spend her free time man watching with all the hotties that came in and out of there. Of course, parking was at a premium and it took her another five minutes to find a spot a block away.

Savannah checked in at reception, showing her ID, and then went upstairs to where the meeting was being held.

The main room was buzzing with chatter from the members of TLC who were using the time to catch up and share stories before the formal meeting began. Savannah waved to Leslie and Dina, two of the women she recognized. They were both high up in the ranking, having been part of TLC for about five years. As a result they got the best assignments. Savannah’s goal was to one day be on par with both of them.

She walked over to the refreshment table and poured herself a cup of fruit punch just as Claudia came up behind her.

“I was wondering when you were going to get here.”

Savannah turned to see her mother. As always Claudia Martin was ready for her close-up. Claudia, unlike Savannah was tall and still slender. Her skin was butter soft, the color of warm honey and so flawless the only makeup she ever used was lipstick and mascara. Both mother and daughter loved clothes by St. John and Claudia wore hers well. Tonight she chose a red jersey sheath with a matching jacket. Gold was her accessory.

Savannah leaned up and kissed her mother’s cheek. “Richard had a last-minute project.”

Claudia made a face. “What else is new? One of these days you need to tell him just where he can go.”

“Mom!” Savannah scoffed and bit back a laugh. “He’s my boss and it’s my job.”

Claudia waved off the comment. “Humph.”

“Ladies, if everyone could take their seats we’re ready to get started,” Leslie announced from the small podium.

Claudia grabbed Savannah by the arm and hustled her to the front. “I got us a spot on the antique loveseat.”

The main room or ballroom of the brownstone was set up like an English parlor, with heavily decorated seating in a variety of brocades and velvets, crystal chandeliers, mahogany tables, gilded mirrors and a marble fireplace. It was like stepping back in time.

Savannah and Claudia took their seats. After several moments of shuffling and jockeying, the rest of the women found seats and settled down. As Savannah surveyed the assemblage she was still intrigued by the array of women who made up TLC—everything from business executives to fashion models, housewives to single mothers and in all shapes, sizes and nationalities. To everyone outside of the elite organization TLC meant Tender Loving Care body products and its members were the equivalent of Avon or Amway sales reps. They were far from it.

“The June meeting of The Ladies Cartel will now come to order,” Leslie announced. “We have a great deal to cover tonight—old business and new assignments.”

Claudia squeezed Savannah’s hand with anticipation. Savannah felt the rush of adrenaline. If she was lucky she would get her first assignment. She’d only been with the organization for a little under a year but in that time she’d made great strides in learning the intricacies of the Cartel’s operation; self-defense techniques, surveillance equipment and how to shoot a gun if necessary. She’d been recruited by her mother and she couldn’t have been more stunned than if her mother announced that she was indeed Santa Claus.

It was a Saturday afternoon; mother and daughter were in the local supermarket shopping for their annual Fourth of July barbecue. As they were loading their packages into Savannah’s SUV, Claudia out of the blue said that she was a member of a secret organization.

“What?” Savannah laughed. “What secret organization, shoppers anonymous?” Claudia was a relentless shopper, her passion for clothes and home furnishings boggled Savannah’s mind.

“I’m serious,” she said. “And I have been allowed to recruit someone and I want that someone to be you.”

“Ma, what in the world are you talking about?” Savannah put the last bag in the car and got in behind the wheel. She put on her designer sunglasses and pulled off.

“Just listen. Four years ago I met a woman in my exercise class, Dina Fleming. She told me about this group of women who are hired to perform a variety of jobs—mostly surveillance but sometimes it’s more involved. It could be anything from posing as a girlfriend to getting hired at a business to find out about illegal practices.”

Savannah turned to her mother in disbelief, peering at her over the top of her shades.

“I’ve done several jobs myself,” she said with pride.

“Are you kidding me?”

“No. Remember the big scandal about the child-care agency about a year ago?”

Savannah frowned as she tried to remember. “Sort of, why?”

“I worked that case.”

Savannah tossed her head back and laughed. “Stop playing.”

“I’m very serious. There are about thirty women who are part of the Cartel—in the New York chapter. For those outside of the circle they believe we are no more than a group of women who sell skin-care and body products. No one ever suspects us, that’s why we’re so successful at what we do.”

Maybe her mother was getting senile, Savannah thought as she drove and listened to the absurd story. She’d seen her mother’s case of bath and beauty products hundreds of times. Now she expected her to think it was all part of some elite organization?

“Do you really expect me to believe this? Is this some gimmick to recruit me to sell something?”

“I promise you it’s not. I presented your credentials to the board and they want to meet you.”

“Credentials?”

“The fact that you work for a law firm and are familiar with the law, attorneys and the court system, we believe you could be a major asset to the organization.”

Her head was spinning. This was nonsense, but she figured the least she could do was humor her mother. “Mom, I’m sure you really believe all this and if it will make you feel better I’ll meet your friends.” She patted her mother’s thigh.

Claudia pushed her daughter’s hand away. “Don’t patronize me! I’m not some blithering idiot. And you should know better.” She folded her arms in a huff. “If I’d thought for a minute that you would react this way I would have never opened my mouth.”

Savannah stole a glance at her mother and could tell by the hard set of her mouth and the deep furrow between her brows that she was dead serious.

“I’m sorry if I offended you, Mom, but you have to admit this all sounds crazy.”

“I know, I thought the same thing. But it’s real, very real. So are you interested?”

“Intrigued, for sure.”

“Good.” Her expression brightened. “I’ll set everything up.”

And she did. Savannah met with Dina and Leslie and was grilled as if she were applying for a job with the CIA. Then they did a background check and when everything came back clear she began her training which lasted for six months.

TLC was a secret society of highly skilled women who were hired to perform covert operations at the behest of scorned wives, jealous husbands, business executives, government agencies and families in dispute over inheritances. It came into being more than a decade earlier, having started in Langley, VirgiMia—home to secrets and lies. What began as a small investigative firm headed by Jean Wallington, slowly mushroomed into TLC with branches all across the country.

Savannah was ready for her very first assignment and she hoped that tonight would be the night.

“I want to begin by congratulating Tina and Marilyn for the excellent job they did with the redlining that was happening on Long Island,” Leslie said. “As a result of their hard work, the real-estate agency that was discriminating against single women home owners and black families has been closed and the owners are facing jail time.”

A cheer followed by applause filled the room.

“Brenda Levin has been promoted to level two for her hard work in recruiting the most new members in the past year.”

More applause.

“Tonight I want you all to give a warm welcome to three new recruits. When I call your names will you please stand? Margaret Jacobs, Mi Lin Chan and Denise Walker.”

The ladies stood, smiled and waved at their fellow Cartel members to shouts of “Welcome aboard.”

Leslie waited until the room quieted. She scanned the room. “As you know from the monthly newsletter that comes with your supplies, we have several cases that need our attention. The board has reviewed the experience, skills and personal backgrounds of each of you and we’ve made our selections.” Leslie cleared her throat and tucked several strands of her blond hair behind her ear. She opened a leather folder and pulled out a piece of paper. The room hushed.

“Serena Hamilton, Justine Parker and Savannah Fields.”

The collected held breath was released. Savannah clutched her mother’s hand, animation sparkling in her eyes.

“Each of you ladies will receive your instructions before you leave tonight. Of course, after reading what is required of you, you have the option to decline the assignment. Should you decide to take the assignment you will be provided with whatever support the Cartel can provide. Congratulations, ladies, and with that this portion of the meeting is adjourned. Feel free to enjoy the food and drinks and would Serena, Justine and Savannah stop in the office before you leave.” Leslie stepped away from the podium and chatter filled the room.

“Congratulations, Savannah,” Melonie, one of the early members of the Cartel said. “This is your first assignment, right?”

“Yes, it is.” Savannah was giddy with excitement. Her mind was running in a million directions at once trying to imagine what her assignment would be.

Melonie touched Savannah’s shoulder. “Well, if you need anything let me know, but you have a pro in the family,” she added, looking with admiration at Claudia. “So I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

Savannah drew in a long breath. “That I do.”

They chatted for a few minutes more and Savannah continued to get words of encouragement and support from her sister members.

Claudia yawned. “Sorry,” she said. “Long day.”

Savannah looked at her watch and gasped in alarm. It was nine forty-five. She’d promised Blake she would meet him at the restaurant at ten and she still had to meet with Leslie to get her assignment.

“I really have to go. I have a dinner date with my husband.”

“Go, girl, go,” Melonie said.

“Let me check in with Leslie. Mom, I’ll call you tomorrow.” She kissed her mother’s cheek, said her goodbyes and hurried to the main office which was down the hallway from the ballroom.

When she got to the office, Justine was just coming out. “Good luck,” she murmured as she passed Savannah.

“Thanks, you, too.”

Savannah stepped up to the closed door and knocked lightly.

“Come in,” came the voice on the other side of the door.

Savannah turned the knob and stepped inside. For an instant her step faltered. It wasn’t Leslie as she’d expected but the head honcho in charge.

“Savannah.” Jean Wallington beamed as if she’d run into a long-lost friend. “Come in. Have a seat.”

Jean Wallington rarely made an appearance. She was so high up the chain of command that you needed oxygen to hang out with her. Word had it that she was a former CIA operative who’d specialized in covert opts. Having had her fill with the old boys’ club she, over time, began recruiting for her own organization. Jean firmly believed that women had just as much, if not more, skill in the field of undercover operations, primarily because no one ever suspected a woman. But mostly because women understood people. Women had instincts and they were rarely wrong. Jean banked on those instincts of her team to get the jobs done. She was never wrong.

Savannah flashed a nervous smile and sat in the high back Queen Ann chair opposite Jean. Jean folded her hands on top of the cherrywood desk.

“I’ve been watching you for a while, Savannah,” Jean began, “and I’m very impressed by what I’ve seen.”

“Thank you.”

Jean flipped open a thin manila file folder and quickly glanced over it before sweeping her thin pink-framed glasses from her sharp nose, displaying the most intense green eyes Savannah had ever seen. They were the color of jade.

“When we make our selections, we do it very carefully. We take many factors into account—length of membership, who you were recruited by, your education, profession and how you did during training. Most important we look at what we call the unobvious skills or attributes in our members.” Jean waved her glasses toward Savannah. “In your case we discovered that you have an innate quality with people. People are drawn to you, Savannah, and for this assignment that’s exactly what we need—that, combined with your legal background. We feel you are the perfect member to handle this job.”

Savannah had no idea that she was viewed that way. She was thrilled to know it yet a bit unsettled to realize that she’d been watched that closely without her knowledge. Damn, they were good.

“Your assignment will be to gather evidence on The Montgomery Enterprises. It has been brought to our attention that the corporation has been laundering money in addition to working with substandard products in the development of their housing projects and some corporate structures. We’re confident that the confirmation we’re seeking is buried in their legal documents. They have some of the best lawyers in the country on their payroll.” She took a larger manila envelope from the file and handed it over to Savannah. “All of the information you need is inside. The information on those pages will begin to dissolve within fifteen minutes of opening the envelope and exposing it to the air. Memorize it. The tools that you need will be delivered to you in your next TLC shipment by courier.”

Savannah nodded. The name Montgomery gave her an itch that she couldn’t quite scratch. It was so familiar but she wasn’t sure why. She held the envelope to her chest. Her racing heart thumped making the envelope vibrate like a tuning fork.

“Any questions?”

“How much time do I have?”

“Three weeks.”

Savannah’s deep brown eyes widened a fraction.

“Of course, you will have the full support of TLC.”

“Any reason for the short window?”

“Yes, The Montgomery Enterprises is set to break ground on a new development by the end of the month. We need the information irrefutably verified before then.”

Montgomery…breaking ground. It couldn’t be.

“If there’s nothing else.” Jean stood and Savannah realized for the first time just how tall Jean actually was. She had to be at least five-eleven, Savannah guesstimated. She got up, took the envelope still clutched to her chest and stuck out her hand. “Thank you for the opportunity, Jean.”

“I expect great things from all of our Cartel members,” she said, shaking Savannah’s hand with a death grip, her green eyes boring into Savannah’s.

“I won’t disappoint you.”

“I know.”

Savannah drew in a short breath and lifted her chin an inch in acceptance.

With her first assignment plastered to the front of her suit jacket by a damp hand, Savannah bobbed and weaved her way out of the brownstone, accepting heartfelt congratulations along the way. Once outside she gulped in the night air then sprinted down the street to her car. It was already ten-twenty. She got in the car and immediately called Blake on her cell phone.

“Baby, I’m so sorry,” she said the instant his voice came on the phone.

“No worries, sugar. I ran into Mac and we were having a drink at the bar. How much longer will you be?”

“At least fifteen minutes.”

“See you when you get here.”

“Love you,” Savannah said, truly meaning it.

“Back at ya. Drive safe.”

She flipped the phone closed and put the car in gear. Her husband was the best. Damn she was lucky.

At least up to that point.




Chapter 4


T he Cabaret restaurant and lounge was located on the upper Eastside of Manhattan on Park Avenue and 52nd Street. Blake and Savannah had stumbled upon this jewel during the first year of their marriage when they were still exploring each other and the city that they loved. The Cabaret became “their place” and they celebrated every event worth celebrating there.

The food was exquisite, though pricey, but it was the atmosphere that drew them back time and again. It had just the right amount of dim lighting with mirrors in strategic places, candle votives on the intimate tables tucked throughout the space. And every night there was a great jazz performance.

“So how’s married life, my man?” Mac asked as he swallowed what remained of his vodka on the rocks.

Blake grinned. “Couldn’t be better. I love it.”

“Get out. You, Mr. Permanent Bachelor.” Mac chuckled.

Blake lowered his head, his grin broadening. “Yeah, I didn’t figure marriage was for me, but when I met Savannah…” He shook his head in wonder. “All the others paled in comparison to her.”

“I can’t believe it. I have women still asking me about ‘your friend, um, Blake,’” he said in a really bad falsetto.

They laughed at Mac’s bad imitation of a female voice.

“I’m off the market, man.” Blake took a swig of his drink. “What about you, ever going to settle down?”

“Why?” He signaled the waiter for another drink. “I firmly believe that men were not created to be with one woman. Why do you think they outnumber us?”

Blake cut his eyes in Mac’s direction and snorted a laugh. “Maybe because we drop dead sooner from trying to keep up with so many women.”

“But what a way to go!”

They clinked glasses.

“Other than women how’re things going on The Street?”

Mac, whose real name was Fred McDonald, worked on Wall Street. They were both Moorehouse grads, but Blake had gone on to study architecture at MIT. After graduation, Mac went to work buying and selling.

“Crazy man. The work is grueling but the rewards are worth it. Just bought my second house out in Montclair, New Jersey.”

“Congratulations! But what are you going to do with two homes?”

“The brownstone in Harlem is strictly an investment property. The one in Jersey is where I’ll live.”

“You plan to commute into New York every day? The traffic is horrific.”

“Naw, I have enough stress to deal with at work. I’ll be using mass transit.”

Blake nodded. “Good move.”

“What’s going on with you?”

“Just landed a major development deal.”

“Yeah, which one?” He angled his body on the stool toward Blake.

“Can’t really talk about it right now. The ink is still drying. But I will say that it will put me on the map for good.”

Mac slapped him on the back. “I always knew you would hit the big-time.”

“That’s what Savannah and I are celebrating tonight.” He brought his glass to his mouth and took a slow swallow.

“It’ll be good to see Savannah again. We all have to get together sometime. You and Savannah and me and whomever I’m so inclined to be with at the moment.” He chuckled.

Blake shook his head. “One of these days the right woman is gonna come along and you will be toast.”

“Like you were toast…” Savannah whispered in Blake’s ear. She pecked him on the cheek. “Sorry I’m late.”

Blake swiveled around on the stool and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Hey, baby.” His gaze danced over her face still amazed that this woman was all his. He tenderly kissed her mouth.

“Hey, get a room,” Mac jokingly cut in.

“Don’t hate,” Savannah teased, stepping out of her husband’s arms. She came around her husband and hugged Mac. “Good to see you.” She patted his arm. “Still on the prowl?” she asked, referring to his notorious womanizing.

“Like the old saying goes, can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”

Blake slid off the stool and turned to Mac. “Let’s get together soon. It’s been a long time.”

Mac stuck out his hand which Blake shook. “Definitely. Give me a call anytime. All of my numbers are the same.”

“I will,” Blake said.

“Good seeing you, Savannah,” Mac said.

“You, too,” Savannah replied.

Blake slid his arm around her waist. “Our table is waiting. Let me tell the hostess you’re here.”

They walked to the front of the restaurant. The hostess approached.

“My party has arrived,” Blake said.

“Great. Right this way.” She took two menus from the holder and led them to their table. “Your server will be with you shortly. Can I get you something to drink in the meantime?”

Blake held up his glass. “I’m good.” He turned to Savannah.

“Hmm, I’ll have a diet cola with a twist of lemon.”

“Your server will be right here with your drink and to take your orders. Have a good evening.”

Blake turned his full attention to his wife. “You have that gleam in your eyes. Something exciting happen at work or at your meeting?”

Savannah inwardly flinched. “Nothing out of the ordinary. I’m buzzed about you!” She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “Tell me everything—or at least as much as you can,” she said.

“Well, all systems are go on the development. The entire project has been kept under wraps for months, as you know. There’s been so much speculation about who was going to get the contract, if all the money would come through in time and if the City Council would approve it.” He blew out a breath. “It’s been an uphill battle the entire time. The surrounding community has been against it from the beginning.” The light in his eyes slowly dimmed. He looked at his wife. “Some folks are going to lose their homes.”

Savannah heard the sadness in his voice. “But when the project is done, it will be better than before,” she said, hoping to lift some of the weight off his shoulders. “And this project is going to provide jobs for thousands, especially minorities.”

The corner of his lush mouth curved up in a grin. “You sound like the Mayor’s press secretary.”

She waved off his comment with a light chuckle. “I don’t mean to sound like the poster child for redevelopment, but it will ultimately improve the area, bring in jobs and housing. Isn’t the city planning to provide relocation support to anyone who becomes displaced?”

“That’s what we’ve been told.”

“Then stop worrying. Enjoy your fifteen minutes of fame and put up the best damned development that this town has seen in decades.”

“That’s why I love you.”

She lowered her lids and looked at him coyly. “And why is that?”

“’Cause you always know how to make me feel good in and out of bed,” he said.

Her voice dropped to a husky whisper. “We all have our skills.” She puckered her lips and blew him a kiss.

“Are you ready to order?”

Two pairs of eyes rose to meet those of the waitress.

“We’re not hungry,” they said in unison.

Blake sliced a look at his wife. “You can bring the check for the drinks.”



Blake and Savannah tumbled through the door of their Harlem town house, giggling and groping like teenagers. The entire drive home Blake had kept one hand on the wheel and the other buried between his wife’s thighs. If there weren’t so many bright street lights on their block they would have made love right there in the front seat of the car. But being the respectable couple that they thought themselves to be, it wouldn’t look good to get caught by one of the members of the block patrol.

Savannah kicked the door shut and tugged at Blake’s shirt. Two white buttons went dancing across the sparkling hardwood floor. His tie dangled at an angle from around his neck. Blake grabbed the hem of her skirt and hitched it up around her hips. Mouths and tongues sought out any inch of exposed flesh as they tore off clothes en route to the bedroom.

Savannah and Blake tumbled onto the king-size bed, she pinned snuggly beneath his hard body.

“This is all I could think about all day,” he murmured in her ear before nibbling her lobe.

“Show me exactly what you were thinking about,” she whispered back.

The sublime pleasure that Blake evoked in her body hadn’t waned a bit in the years of their marriage. If anything her lust and passion for him seemed to have escalated with time. He knew every one of her buttons and he expertly pressed them all until she was feverish with need.

His fingertips were featherlight as they glided and caressed her hot flesh. His mouth teased and taunted the slope of her neck, inching downward to the rise of her breasts before taking a tight nipple into his mouth and laving it with his tongue.

Savannah moaned, a sound that was filled with urgency, but Blake took his time—the scenic route as he called it—and continued to chart new territory. He slipped his hand between her parted thighs and flicked his finger back and forth across her swollen bud until her entire body trembled.

Blake reluctantly left the tenderness of her breasts and eased down toward her fluttering stomach, letting his tongue dance around her navel.

Savannah’s hips instinctively moved in a slow undulating fashion. Please escaped from her lips on a rush of hot breath.

“This what you want?” he uttered just as his tongue slid across the pulse of her bud.

Savannah cried out and gripped the sheets in tight fists. Her pelvis jutted upward and Blake grabbed her behind and pulled her fully toward his eager mouth. He suckled and teased until he knew from her tortured mewls and the shuddering of her body that she was ready to explode into a million tiny pieces. He pushed her thighs farther apart then up and over his shoulders.

Hot tears squeezed out of her eyes as she was suddenly filled with the rock hardness of her husband. He moved into her by degrees giving them both a chance to savor those first moments of unity.

“Oh,” he groaned deep in his throat. “You’re so hot…so wet.” He pushed in farther and she squeezed around him while rotating her hips.

Savannah reached down between them and found his heavy, seed-filled sac and gently massaged it. Blake plunged deep inside her until there was nowhere else to go but in and out on a maddening quest to reach heaven.

Their paced picked up in unison. Savannah swore she heard ringing in her ears, every nerve ending in her body was charged. Her head swam. And then Blake did that thing he always did. He moved inside her in a circle and hit that spot.

Lights erupted. Her entire body stiffened for several seconds as if electrified. Then her insides, with a mind of their own, violently contracted and released around his stiff member. It felt as if he were growing inside her as he approached his own climax which set off another wave of contractions that spread up her belly and out to her limbs to explode in her brain.

She opened her mouth to scream out her pleasure, but all sound was trapped in her throat as her climax spun out of control. Blake rode her faster and faster, the words coming from his lips incomprehensible. He pulled her so close to his wet body that not even air separated them as he pushed and pushed and pushed. He buried his head into the valley of her neck barely muffling the growl of release that jettisoned from him into her.

Maybe this time, Savannah silently prayed as she clung to her husband, concentration on draining him of every ounce of his fertile seed, keeping her hips high in the air. Maybe this time. She felt him pulse and jerk inside her. She wrapped her legs tightly around him and used her hand to press him against her opening, not allowing even a drop to escape.

“I love you so much,” Blake whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. His body convulsed one last time before all his weight eased down on her, pinning her to the damp sheets.

“And I love you, my darling man. I love you.”

They closed their eyes, holding on to to each other, locked as one.




Chapter 5


“W e didn’t get a chance to talk much last night,” Blake said with a wicked grin on his face as he emerged from the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist.

Savannah had her knees drawn up to her chest, watching her handsome husband approach and wondered how she’d gotten so lucky. She angled her head to the side. “I think we did a lot of talking, just not the verbal kind.”

He pointed a finger in her direction. “Touché.”

Savannah patted an empty spot next to her. “So tell me about the deal.”

Blake came to sit beside her. He fluffed up a pillow and leaned back against it, folding his hands across his sculpted belly.

“Well, as I was hinting at…”

He explained the details of the deal which entailed his company being the sole architect for the project, as well as handling the contract for finding the right construction crew.

“How long will the entire project last from start to finish?”

“If we get all the clearances on time and I can seal a deal with the contractors…Hmm, from start to finish, at least a year. And that’s barring all of the unforeseen obstacles that come up with any job this size.”

Savannah nodded. “Did I tell you how proud I am of you?”

Blake snuggled close. “Probably so, but tell me again.”

She cupped his chin in her palm. “I’m so proud of you.” She pecked him on the lips then winked.

“And how did your meeting go with the ladies last night?” He yawned loudly and threw his arm across his eyes. “What I wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall.”

Savannah’s heart thumped then settled. She still had not read the details of her assignment. But she had a very strong feeling that it wasn’t going to be easy. “It went fine as usual. Girl stuff. Uh, honey…”

“Hmm?”

“What is the name of the finance people for the development again? Did you say Montgomery?”

“Yeah, The Montgomery Enterprises. Run by Miss Conglomerate herself, Tristan Montgomery.”

Lord, please don’t let it be her.

“By the way, she invited us to a get together at her home next week.”

“Really? Then she can’t be all that bad.”

“I don’t know what it is about the woman that rubs me the wrong way.”

“But you don’t work with her directly. So it shouldn’t be too much of a problem.”

“That’s just it—I don’t. But she’s what you call a ‘hands on’ person. She’s up on every detail, no matter how small.”

“Don’t let it bother you. She probably thinks she has to try harder because she’s a woman.”

“Hmm, maybe. Anyway, I don’t want to talk business today. It’s our day off. So what do you want to do today?”

“I was reading in the Village Voice that there’s a boat ride up the Hudson from nine to one. Wanna go?”

“Sounds great.” He turned on his side to face her. “That leaves us with quite a few hours to kill. Got any ideas on what we could do?” he asked as he trailed a finger down the center of her chest.

“We could try again to make a miracle happen.” Her eyes looked at him from the depths of her soul.

Blake stroked her cheek. He knew how desperately Savannah wanted a child. They’d been trying unsuccessfully for nearly a year. He saw the sadness in her eyes when every month she’d stay as regular as a Swiss clock. They could buy stock in those little testing sticks with the amount of money she’d spent on in-home pregnancy tests.

“Listen, I don’t want you to make yourself crazy about getting pregnant. The doctor said it could take time.”

She pushed out a sigh. “I know.” Her tone was full of dejection. “It’s just that every time we make love I keep hoping…ya know?”

He kissed her tenderly. “I know. And when the time is right, it will happen.” He rolled gently on top of her. “But in the meantime you know the old saying of practice makes perfect.” He stroked her hip.

Savannah giggled. “Yeah, I had heard something like that…”

And as she took her husband deep into her body once more, she sent up her continued chant, maybe this time.



Savannah was in the kitchen fixing them something to eat before they both passed out from hunger and sexual fatigue when the phone rang.

“I got it,” Blake yelled out from the bedroom where he hadn’t moved from since they woke up.

Several moments later she could hear him coming up behind her chuckling and saying, “yes, ma’am.” He handed her the phone. “Mom.” He turned and sauntered back to the bedroom.

“Hey, Mom.” She tucked the phone between her ear and shoulder and continued to fix the western omelet.

“Hey, sweetie, can you talk?”

Savannah took a quick glance over her shoulder. “Yep. What’s up?”

“You tell me,” her mother said in a conspiratorial whisper.

Savannah lowered her voice. “I didn’t get a chance to look at it yet.”

“What? Savannah,” she said in that tone she used with her as a little girl. “This is important. You wouldn’t have been chosen if they didn’t completely believe in you.”

“Mother, I know. It’s just that…well, I’ve been a little tied up.”

Her mother said, “Chile, you’re going to kill that man one of these days.”

Savannah bit back a laugh. It never ceased to amaze her how out there and open her mother was about sex. “We are trying to have a baby, so I never want to miss out on an opportunity.”

She turned off the flame beneath the frying pan and placed the omelet onto a platter. Savory steam wafted up to her nose.

“I told you before, stop trying and it will happen.”

Savannah sighed. “Yeah, that’s what Blake keeps saying.”

“And he’s right. Relax, sweetheart. I know you and Blake will make beautiful babies together when the time is right. In the meantime, I suggest you take a look at your assignment. I want you to do well on this. People are depending on you.”

Savannah swallowed hard. “I’ll take care of it. Promise.”

“Good, and if you need me for anything, let me know.”

“I will.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Slowly Savannah hung up the phone then took the platter and put it on the kitchen table. A part of her desperately wanted to read what was inside that envelope and another part of her dreaded it. But if she only had three weeks to pull off whatever it was that needed to be done, she couldn’t ignore the contents for long.




Chapter 6


“I’ m just going to relax and watch the game,” Blake said, assuming his Sunday-afternoon position on the couch.

What else is new, Savannah’s arched brow queried. She walked by and handed him the remote. It was a ritual she’d grown used to since the beginning of their marriage. Blake was willing to give all of his time and energy to her Monday through Saturday, but Sunday was sports day come hell or high water.

“Can I get you anything?” she asked.

“No, I’m good.” He’d already spread out his goodies for the afternoon—chips, pretzels and an ice bucket with beer—and was surfing through the stations. The blare of a baseball game filled the room.

Savannah leaned down and kissed his forehead then headed off to the bedroom. She closed the door behind her. Going to her dresser, she opened the bottom drawer and pulled out the envelope that was tucked beneath her lingerie.

Taking it to the bed, she felt her heart pound with trepidation. She used a nail file to slit open the top then pulled out the stapled pages. It had the TLC logo blazoned across the top. She knew she only had a short period of time to digest all of the information that was contained in the hermetically sealed envelope before the letters on the pages began to dissolve.

She read quickly, absorbing the information the way she did legal briefs, cataloging everything that was important and discarding the rest.

The more she read, the more disturbed she became. What she’d feared was no longer a bad feeling. It was a full-blown reality. The knot that had settled in her stomach since she’d gotten her assignment from Jean now threatened to loop around her lungs and cut off her air.

Her assignment was to infiltrate Montgomery headquarters on East 72nd Street, secure the original accounting documents and the legal papers that negotiated the land-acquisition deal for the development in downtown Brooklyn—the project that her husband was working on. It was believed that not only was The Montgomery Enterprises involved in illegal land deals and coercion, but several members of the City Council and the architect and developer, i.e. Blake Fields, PPC. She was to secure the necessary documents, any video tapes or audio conversations that would lead to indictments of all the parties involved—or irrefutable information to exclude them.

Her stomach roiled. Bile rose to the back of her throat and sat there burning. She stared at the pages as the words began to cloud over. She wiped the tears from her eyes as she watched the words slowly become ghostlike on the page until they were totally gone. The only thing remaining was the TLC logo.

The sudden ringing of the phone snapped through her, jerking her out of the place to which she’d descended. Dully she turned toward the intruding instrument and picked it up. She cleared her throat and sniffed hard.

“Hello…”

“Damn, girl, it’s nearly one in the afternoon, you still sleep?”

Savannah laughed. Danielle Holloway was one of her two best friends, notorious for her early morning wake-up calls. One o’clock was definitely late for Dani. “What’s up? And no, I’m not still asleep. Are you ill? It’s after ten.” She stole a glance at the now lily white pages.

“Very funny. I figured I’d give you a play since it was Sunday and all. Got any plans for today?”

“Not really. You know today is Blake’s sports day, so I’m pretty much off of his radar until bedtime.”

“I just got off the phone with Mia, we were thinking about going down to the South Street Seaport. They’re having a jazz concert on one of the boats.”

Maybe getting out of the house for the day and spending it with her girls was just the thing she needed to clear her head for a few hours.

“Sounds like a plan. What time?”

“You know me, I’ve been ready for hours.” She chuckled. “Mia was finishing getting dressed and I’m going to pick her up. Then we can swing by and get you.”

“I should be ready in about a half hour. That good?”

“We’ll be there. Casual dress. I have on jeans and flip flops.”

Yeah, Savannah knew what Dani meant by jeans and flip flops. Like Claudia, everything on Dani’s body was high-end designer. As a fashion photographer for several leading women’s magazines, Dani stayed on the cutting edge of style. “Right up my alley. See you guys in a few.”

Savannah hung up, feeling momentarily better. She got off the bed and went to her closet to find something equally casual to wear.

Blake barely turned his eyes in her direction when she emerged from the bedroom in concert with the ringing of the doorbell.

“Somebody’s at the door honey,” he called out absently.

Savannah just shook her head and went to open the door. “Hey, Dani, wanna come in for a minute?”

They kissed cheeks.

“Just a sec to say hello to my favorite married man. Mia is in the car, we’re double-parked.”

As promised, Danielle was casual, at least in her mind. Her hip-hugging black Versace jeans were encrusted with what looked like cubic zircoMia studs along the outside seams. A lavish silver chain belt hung from her waist and shimmied erotically each time she moved. Her petite size-seven feet were tucked into an exquisite pair of red Jimmy Choo sandals with a two-inch heel. Topping it all off was a single button, pristine white midriff blouse with elbow length sleeves. Her inky black hair that flowed almost to her hips when let loose and free was tossed on top of her head in a jazzy attempt at looking slightly disheveled and devilishly sexy.

Dani swept her sunglasses off the bridge of her nose with a flourish and sashayed inside. She struck a pose in front of Blake blocking his view of the game.

“Didn’t your good southern mama teach you any manners?” she chastised.

“Yes, never to hit a woman even if she is blocking the game.” Blake tried to push her aside and failed. “Come on, Dani, this is the top of the fourth. Mets at bat.”

“You mean, you actually recognized me and I don’t have on a sport’s uniform? I’m impressed.” She swatted his arm. “Say hello.”

“Hello, Dani,” he barked. “You’re going to force me to sit up and loose my position on the couch if you don’t get out of the way,” he practically whined trying to see around her.

Savannah marched over and grabbed Dani by the hand. “It’s useless, sis. I could walk in front of him butt naked and he wouldn’t notice.” She pulled her toward the door. “See you later, baby. Going out with the girls.”

He mumbled something unintelligible.

Savannah picked up her mango-colored Kate Spade purse—which matched her open-toed sandals—from the table in the foyer. “By the time he realizes I’m gone, I’ll be back already,” she said with a laugh of acceptance. “Come on, let’s go.”

“I’m determined to break that hypnotic stare one of these days,” Danielle said, emphasizing the last four words.

“Good luck.” Savannah shut the door behind them.

“Love that bag, by the way,” Dani said with a hint of envy in her voice.

“Thanks. And no, you can’t borrow it.”

Dani huffed in mock offense.

They stepped out into the very warm June afternoon and down the concrete steps of Savannah and Blake’s three-story town house, located in Harlem’s historic Sugar Hill.

The house was originally owned by Savannah’s great-grandparents, who turned it over to Claudia’s mother, Sylvia, when she married and then Sylvia passed it on to Claudia on her wedding day and Claudia turned it over to Savannah as a wedding gift to her and Blake just as it had been done in the family for generations. Hopefully, one day Savannah would be able to turn the grand home over to her son or daughter. The family rumor was that Great-Granddad Jessie won the house in a high-stakes poker game from an old white land baron who figured he’d finally gotten rid of an albatross. It was no more than a rotting shell when Great-Granddad won it, but he and his four brothers worked on it for three solid years until they restored it to its former glory. It had been in the family ever since. A house that was once not worth the time it took to walk past it was now valued at more than one million dollars.

Mia waved as the duo came down the steps toward Dani’s brand-new Ford Edge.

Savannah stood for a moment in front of the spanking new SUV with a hand on her hip. She snapped her head toward Dani who had a big smug smirk on her perfectly made-up face.

“So whatcha think?”

“Girl—” Savannah walked around it slowly “—when did you get this?”

“Picked it up yesterday from the dealer. Hop in.”

“That little camera thing you do is really paying off,” Savannah teased, and got inside the plush vehicle. Dani’s job as a fashion photographer for all of the elite magazines afforded her many luxuries; invitations to all the major events and premieres inside and out of the country along with meeting folks that the average person only reads about in the tabloids. She couldn’t count the “A list” of stars and socialites who’d become friends over the years that she had in her Rolodex.

Dani laughed, buckled her seat belt and began pulling out. “Gotta do a little something to pay the bills.”

Moments later they sped off and headed for downtown Manhattan. By the time they arrived at the Seaport it was bustling with Sunday afternoon activity. The day was glorious, comfortably warm with a light breeze blowing in off the Hudson River, which thankfully didn’t smell like garbage, its usual aroma.

“Let’s get our tickets first,” Mia suggested, “then get something to eat. The first set is at five.”

Mia Turner was the organizer of the trio. As a very well-respected and highly paid event planner for major corporations, she was beyond diligent when it came to scheduling and getting people where they needed to be. It got on Savannah’s and Dani’s last nerve at times but they still relied on her to pull everything together. As typical of Mia, she had their entire day planned right down to the menu at the restaurant she’d selected for brunch.

“Mia, when in the hell do you have time to do all of this with a full-time job?” Savannah asked as Mia led the way to the ticket booth to pick up the concert tickets.

Mia looked over her narrow shoulder with a puzzled expression on her face. “Time to do what?”

Savannah and Dani stole a glance at each other, shook their heads and kept marching along.

After securing the tickets they headed over to Trio, a new Caribbean restaurant with an outdoor café that Mia had discovered and was aching to try out.

“If this place lives up to its reputation I may put it on my list of recommended locations for my clients,” Mia said as they were led to their seats beneath a wide white umbrella.

That was another thing about Mia—even when she wasn’t working, she was working. She found some kind of way to tie her job in to darn near everything she did. As a result, the three of them often ate for free, got free spa days, discounts on designer clothes, product samples and they were even able to finagle a trip to the island of St. Kitts as part of Mia’s “focus group” for a new resort on the island. All the little perks made Mia’s drill-sergeant demeanor all the more bearable. Besides, she really was a sweetheart.

“Oh, and lunch is on me,” Mia announced once they were settled in their seats. “But everyone needs to order something different. I want to get a good cross-sampling of the menu, as well as the service.” She snapped her menu open then put on her glasses. Truth be told, Mia was blind as a bat but hated to admit it. She spent a great majority of her time squinting, which gave her a rather sour expression to those who didn’t know her. Yet her vanity wouldn’t allow her to mar her near-perfect face with glasses 24/7. And she was terrified of “sticking anything in my eyes,” so contacts were out of the question.

“So what have you ladies been up to?” Dani asked as she perused the menu.

“Up to my eyeballs with work,” Savannah said. “But that’s not unusual.”

“Richard still working you to death?”

“He damn sure tries.” She laughed lightly. “But it’s cool. I like my job.”

Mia lowered her menu and quickly tucked away her glasses before blearily focusing on Savannah. “You are entirely too talented to be someone’s assistant for the rest of your life, and too damned smart. You need to take your butt back to school and finish your law degree. Then you could run the show, open your own office and work other people to death.”

“She’s right, Savannah,” Dani chimed in. “I decided a long time ago that I was not cut out to be someone’s underling. That’s why I have to do my own thing. When I don’t feel like working, I don’t work.”

This was a conversation they had at least once every three months. When she looked at her friends’ busy, exciting and carefree lives she often questioned whether or not she’d made all the right choices; from settling down and getting married to settling for a job she could do with her eyes closed. Each time she asked the question the answer was still the same— yes. Besides, she had what neither of them had—a loving husband and a secret life. Inwardly she smiled.

“Enough about me,” Savannah said before they got on a roll that would last through brunch. “What have you two been up to?”

Dani and Mia alternated with stories about their latest clients while Savannah tried to concentrate on the nonstop chatter, saying all the appropriate “Mmm, hmms” at all the right places and laughing on cue. But her mind was elsewhere. She had what the girls would call a DDD— a damned difficult dilemma. Under normal circumstances she would happily spill her tale all over the white linen tablecloth and listen with amazement as Dani and Mia put their personal spin on what she needed to do. More often than not they were on point. This time as much as she needed their savvy wisdom, she couldn’t risk it.

As Mia predicted, the food was incredible. The service was top-notch and Mia had penciled Trio in as a restaurant to recommend. Of course, before they could leave, Mia gained introductions to the owner and manager.

“You did good,” Savannah said to Mia as they made their way to the boat.

Mia grinned, flashing a dimple beneath her right eye. “Gotta keep my contacts fresh. My clients only expect the best.” Mia linked her arm through Savannah’s. “How’s the ‘family planning’ going?” she asked in a soft voice.

Savannah’s expression mirrored her internal disappointment. “So far, no good,” she said. “But we’ll keep trying.”

“It will happen when the time is right.”

Savannah tilted her head and rested it momentarily on Mia’s shoulder. “I hope so. That’s the only thing missing in our marriage.”

“What’s the only thing missing in your marriage?” Dani cut in with her supersonic hearing.

“A baby,” Savannah said.

“It ain’t all it’s cracked up to be. Just think, if you had a baby, you’d be home changing Pampers instead of hanging with your girls.”

“That much is true,” Mia conceded. “And what about furthering your career? A baby would definitely put a damper on that.”

Savannah drew in a long breath. “I could always go back to school. It would just take longer.”

“Hmm,” the duo hummed in unison.

“Listen, sis, if it’s for you and Blake it will happen and as much as I detest stinky diapers I’d be in your corner, girl. You know that,” Dani said.

“Me, too,” Mia said, giving Savannah a squeeze.

Savannah smiled. “Thanks.” She knew as tough as they pretended to be about permanent relationships and kids, they were true softies at heart. Beneath all the glitz and glamour of Mia and Dani they were both searching for Mr. Right.





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