She turned, opened the door and nearly smacked into Richard Myers.
“Well, hello there, Kitty,” Richard greeted coolly. “I didn’t know you did house calls.”
Kitty smiled at Jaxon’s number-one rival—in everything from looks, women and business. The man took competition to a whole new level and didn’t care who knew it. Kitty didn’t mind it so much, since it meant twice the haters and two rich, gorgeous men lavishing her with money and gifts.
“Really, Richard. You should get your mind out of the gutter,” she teased playfully. “I’ll see you tonight, Jaxon,” she said, tossing him a final wink. The comment was for Richard as well as Jaxon and if her calculations were correct, she would be seeing Richard tonight at the club, too. “G’bye, you two.” She gave them a dainty wave and practically floated out of the office.
Richard stood at the door and watched Kitty’s rear view until she disappeared from the office lobby. Then he turned his sly smile toward Jaxon. “She’s quite a woman, isn’t she?”
Instead of answering, Jaxon relaxed behind his desk. “So what brings you here, Dick?”
Richard’s smile only stretched wider as he closed Jaxon’s office door and casually strolled over to the bar. “Oh, I was in the neighborhood and thought that I would come by and congratulate you on the Culberson deal. It must have been an awfully reliable bird that told you that they were in talks with Microsoft.”
Jaxon kept his face neutral while he mentally patted himself on the back for putting the pieces of a very large puzzle together on his own. “Oh, I don’t know. I’d say it was just a lucky guess.”
A smile slithered across Richard’s face while he poured himself some of Jaxon’s good brandy. “Let you tell it, you’re the luckiest sonofbitch in New York.”
“Maybe I am,” he said, holding his straight face.
A muscle twitched just below Richard’s right eye. A telltale sign of what the man was really thinking and feeling—which was also the reason Jaxon always beat the man at poker.
Some things were too easy.
“You want to know what I think?” Richard asked, taking his glass and making his way over to the empty chair in front of Jaxon’s desk.
“The better question is, ‘Do I care?’”
“I think,” Richard went on, “that you have an inside track on what’s going on.”
Jaxon glared. “That’s one helluva accusation.”
Richard’s devious smile stretched almost from ear to ear. “Come now. I’m not accusing you of anything…yet.” He sipped his drink. “Then again. It could be just like you said.” He met Jaxon’s stony gaze. “You’re lucky.”
The room thickened with a deadly tension, but the ever cool Jaxon waited out his adversary.
“Anyway, congratulations are in order.” Richard drained the rest of his brandy and got back to his feet. “We all can’t make ninety million in a day.” He purposely set his empty glass on Jaxon’s desk and headed back toward the door. “See you around, Jax.”
“Sure thing, Dick.”
Richard only chuckled as he made his grand exit.
Jaxon waited until the door slammed closed before muttering under his breath. “I really hate that asshole.”
Chapter 2
“Hell, no,” Zora said, and then proceeded to laugh in Melanie’s face. “What did you do, fall and bump your head?”
Melanie laughed, as well. “I know it may sound crazy…”
Zora cocked a brow. “It may?”
Melanie tried again. “Okay. It is crazy. But come on. Humor me. I’ve got a feeling about this.”
“Oh. One of your feelings.” Zora made air quotes and a look that said Melanie had lost her damn mind. “No offense, Mel. But I’m not sure I even get what it is that you do. Rich men pay you to find them women. Isn’t there another word for that? Starts and ends with a P?”
“You’re not funny,” Melanie said. “Why are you giving me grief about this? It’s not like you’re dating someone.” She frowned. “Are you?”
“If I said yes, would you drop this ridiculous idea?”
“Probably after I ran a background check on the guy.”
Zora laughed as she reached for her wineglass. “That would be funny if it weren’t probably true.”
“We’ll never know since you never date.”
Stunned, Zora set her glass back down. “What are you talking about? I date.”
“Yeah. Every full moon.” Melanie shook her head at such a waste. “And I don’t get it. Everywhere you go men are asking you out, but you never accept.”
Indignant, Zora sputtered, “That’s not true.”
“Excuse me, ladies,” their waiter interrupted as he returned to their table with a new bottle of wine. He showed Zora the label.
“What’s that? We didn’t order more wine,” Zora said.
The waiter smiled. “Yes, ma’am. The bottle is compliments of the gentleman over at the bar.” He popped the cork.
Melanie’s and Zora’s gazes followed the direction their waiter indicated with the tilt of his head to where a tall, handsome brotha lifted his glass and winked. The women smiled their thanks and then glanced at one another.
“See?” Melanie said.
“Whoa. We don’t know if the bottle was for me, you or both of us,” Zora reasoned.
The waiter cut in. “Mr. Blackburn asked that I also give you this, Ms. Campbell.” He held out the gold-embossed business card. “And to tell you that he enjoys your work.”
Zora accepted the card while Melanie sat back with an I-told-you-so expression. “That doesn’t count,” Zora said. “Fans do things like that all the time. It’s flattering but—” she shrugged “—they’re more in love with an image. You know. You’ve been there.”
Melanie had indeed been there. In her early twenties, she, too, had been on the fast track in the high-fashion world of modeling. In fact, she and Zora met and were roommates in a Manhattan apartment building that housed young models back in the day. Within minutes of meeting, the two women fell into an easy friendship that lasted over the years.
“Then in that case,” Melanie continued, “you should trust me to find you someone that won’t be intimidated by your money or fame.”
“I don’t know. This whole thing still has a pimpish feel to it.”
Melanie rolled her eyes. This isn’t gonna be easy.
The waiter poured the ladies two new glasses of wine and instructed them to “Enjoy.”
They both flashed him a brief butterfly smile and then fell silent as Zora read and then reread the business card. Either she was contemplating calling the brotha or tossing the card like she normally did.
“Soooo.” Melanie picked up her fork and stabbed a few vegetables in her salad. “Are you going to call him?”
“Yes,” Zora decided, but then countered. “Maybe.” She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“See?” Melanie dropped her fork and shook her head. “Why do you do that? You always shut the door on opportunity.”
“Please don’t lecture. I didn’t bring my bottle of Excedrin.”
Melanie kept charging