Читать книгу Sex and Lies - Donna Hill, Donna Hill - Страница 6

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.