Читать книгу Tender Loving Passion: Temptation and Lies - Donna Hill, Donna Hill - Страница 9

Chapter 2

Mia managed to get through the rest of the briefing without screaming. When she got behind the wheel of her Lexus, she wasn’t quite certain she’d heard anything Jean had said after she’d dropped her Michael Burke bombshell.

By rote she turned the key in the ignition. The engine purred to life, along with the sounds of Marvin Gaye’s classic, “What’s Going On.”

That was the question of the day, she mused. She put on her glasses, drew in a long steadying breath and slowly pulled off in the early-afternoon traffic.

* * *

In the privacy of her business office, a ground-floor rental in SoHo, Mia closed and locked the door on the off chance that her new assistant, Ashley Temple, might decide to burst in—as she was prone to do—to update her on the latest TMZ news (a celebrity online and off-line news outlet). She was relieved that Ashley wasn’t up front when she came in and she was able to get to her office undetected, at least for the time being.

Mia depressed the Do Not Disturb button on her phone, then removed the manila envelope from her purse.

She placed it on the desk and stared at the innocuous-looking envelope. It looked like millions of others, but she knew better. The contents had the potential to turn her life inside out.

The affair between her and Michael had been discreet. No one knew about it, especially within the business circles they traveled in. Not even Savannah or Danielle had any idea that anything had transpired. They’d always believed that she simply hadn’t found the right man and, until she’d met Michael, she hadn’t.

When they broke up, it was a long three years before she started intermittently dating. But she’d never found anyone who could measure up—until Steven Long.

Mia ran her manicured finger across the smooth surface of the envelope.

If she broke the seal and opened it, there was no turning back. She’d have to carry out the assignment. Her type-A personality wouldn’t allow her to give up or turn the reins over to someone else.

Drawing in a long breath, she exhaled her doubts and trepidations and broke the seal.

The documents detailed Michael’s rise up the business ranks to eventually running his own management company. He was considered one of the best in the management consulting business.

Her pulse pounded in her temples when she scrolled down to review his personal information.

Marital Status: Divorced

Reflexively, she gripped the pages tighter between her fingers. Her heart thumped as her breathing shortened.

Divorced. He was free. At least on paper.

He was married when they’d met. Guilt had riddled her each time they’d made love until her conscience had no longer allowed her to do that to another woman. Michael had literally begged her not to leave him. He’d promised to get a divorce—just give me some time, he’d said.

But time and promises were things she could not depend on, nor did she want to.

“I can’t do this anymore, Michael,” she recalled saying to him, the agony of speaking the words making her voice paper thin, sounding weak and without conviction.

He turned onto his side. His dark brown eyes moved slowly along her face. His thumb brushed across her bottom lip. “Do what?” he asked, his voice husky and taunting. “This?” His large hand slid between her damp thighs and gently caressed her there.

Mia drew in a sharp breath as the powerful sensations rippled through her.

“Michael...” Her hips arched. She gripped his shoulders and he rose above her, bracing his weight on his forearms.

“I love you so much, Mia,” he said on a ragged breath as he pushed slowly inside her.

Mia wrapped her body and her heart around him, giving him all of her because she knew that this could never happen again.

And it didn’t.

* * *

Mia ran her hand along the length of her hair and for a moment shut her eyes, wishing the images of the past away.

She looked down and read further. Michael had been under surveillance for a while. He’d come under suspicion during a routine audit of his company’s finances. There were several discrepancies, which had apparently been cleared up, but he remained a blip on the radar screen.

Apparently, deposits of three to five thousand dollars were routinely placed in one of his secondary accounts, then were quickly transferred to an offshore account in the Cayman Islands.

The more she read, the more ill she became.

The Michael Burke she knew was ambitious, and he could be manipulative if it would land him an account. But this man on paper was not the man she remembered and had once loved.

She closed the folder and knew that shortly the ink would disappear, as if the damning words had never existed.

The knock on her door snapped her to attention. She shoved the envelope into her desk drawer, removed her glasses and went to unlock the door.

“Hi. Come in.”

Ashley’s updated Angela Davis fro bounced in a cinnamon-brown halo around her openly expressive face.

Every time she looked at Ashley, Mia thought of a highly energetic, inquisitive child, even though Ashley was easily in her early thirties.

Ashley was a godsend after Mia lost her last assistant to marriage and happily ever after. Ashley was bright, totally efficient and loved the event-planning business. She was so good, in fact, that Mia had given Ashley two of her own accounts to manage, and her clients loved her.

“Hey, boss,” Ashley greeted her, her warm brown eyes sparkling, as always. Her deep dimples flashed.

“What’s up?”

“A couple of calls that I thought you’d want to handle personally.” She handed Mia a slip of the company’s teal-colored message paper.

They walked toward the small circular table in the far corner of the office and sat down.

Mia squinted at the words on the page until they came into focus. “Sahara Club?” she asked.

Ashley read from a sheet in her hand detailing all the particulars about the Sahara Club, which catered to married couples who wanted to plan quick romantic getaways. The club management wanted to put together an event to promote their business, inviting previous guests to give testimonials about their experience.

Mia’s brows rose as she listened.

“I did an Internet search on them,” Ashley offered in response to the question that hovered on Mia’s lips. She handed over her research material. “I also have a short list of some of their clients. I can have them checked, if you want.”

Mia took the notes and briefly scanned them, the words blurry around the edges.

“This one is for the grand opening of a boutique in Tribeca,” she went on reading her second set of notes. “They want something really upscale. They’d like to come in and talk with you. Should I schedule it?”

“Why don’t you take that one?” Mia said absently. “I’ll sit in on the initial meeting if you need me, but I think you can handle it.”

“No problem.” She paused a moment. “Are you okay? You seem really out of it.”

In the six months that Ashley had worked for Mia, they’d grown rather close, sharing stories and giving each other advice on things like clothes, cars, best deals, politics, religion. Mia had even invited Ashley to join her, Savannah and Danielle for their weekly girls’ brunch at their favorite hangout, The Shop. Over time Mia had grown to respect Ashley’s judgment and clearheaded opinions, which she often sought out. But her current dilemma she could not share.

“I’m fine. Just a little headache.”

Ashley leaned forward. “Maybe if you wore your glasses to read and move around in the world, your head would stop hurting. It’s probably eyestrain.”

Mia made a face. It was her personal pet peeve. “I’ll be fine. I’ll take something for it.”

Ashley huffed. “Suit yourself.” She pushed up from the desk. “I’ll give these ladies from the boutique a call and get that set up.”

“Thanks.”

* * *

Alone now, Mia’s thoughts reluctantly turned to her most pressing situation: in order to complete her assignment, she was going to have to see Michael again. And she wasn’t sure how she was going to handle that.

What she needed was some advice. Savannah was totally out of the question. She was a devout believer in the sanctity of marriage. She’d had her own scare with her husband, Blake, and she didn’t look favorably on the “other woman,” which is what Mia had been.

Danielle, though much more open-minded, had mellowed since she’d settled down with Nick. And although she might be more understanding, Dani’s quick, sharp tongue was not something she wanted to deal with, either.

Those were the reasons why she’d never told her two best friends about what had gone on between her and Michael. It went against everything they believed in. She’d cringe every time the topic of adultery and cheating came up during their chats. She never wanted to disappoint them or see that appalled look in their eyes. She knew they’d demand an explanation as to why, and she wouldn’t be able to provide one, because she didn’t know why.

Sounds of Ashley singing a very bad rendition of a Mary J. Blige tune drifted to her ears. Mia smiled. Oh, to be carefree, she mused.

Her phone rang.

“MT Management, Mia speaking.”

“Hey, baby. Caught you at your desk.”

“Hi, sweetie. This is a surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I have a couple of hours and I thought I’d swing by and take my favorite girl to a late lunch. If you haven’t eaten already.”

“I’d love to.”

“Great. See you in about twenty minutes.”

“Okay.” Mia hung up the phone. Spending some time with Steven was just what she needed.

* * *

As promised, twenty minutes later, Steven came walking through the door.

Mia’s heart skipped a beat when she saw him. She stood and came from behind her desk, her body warming with every step.

“Hi,” she whispered as she came to a stop in front of him.

Steven Long was, for lack of a better word, gorgeous. His complexion was the color of polished mahogany, he had a hard square jaw and chocolate-brown eyes with silky brows and lashes to die for.

Two years in a row Jet magazine had listed him as one of New York’s most eligible bachelors. That was before he’d hooked up with Mia. Now he was off the market—permanently, if Mia had any say in the matter.

His gunmetal gray suit fit every inch of his six-foot frame, and damn if she didn’t love a man in a good-looking suit. His pearl-gray shirt and burgundy-and-gray-striped tie set off the suit and his skin to perfection.

Steven snaked his arm around Mia’s waist and swept her into a deep, lingering kiss that took her breath away. When he released her, she felt shaken and hot with desire.

“You’re going to have to stop by more often,” she said, stroking his cheek with the tip of her finger.

He grinned. “If only I could, gorgeous. How’s your day been so far?”

Reality slammed into her. Her heart thumped. “Uh, not bad. We may have two more clients.”

“That’s great. Congrats.”

“Good for business, but not great for relationships. It means that I’ll be even busier,” she said, knowing that in the coming weeks she would need time away from Steven.

He took her hand and massaged the center of her palm in sensuous circular motions that sent shivers running through her.

“If anyone can multitask and make it look like child’s play, it’s you, babe.” He pecked her softly on the lips. “I ain’t worried,” he said with a grin. “Come on, let’s go before we spend all our free time talking about what time we won’t have.”

“Lead the way.”

* * *

“How did you manage to get time away from the office?” Mia asked as they were seated in a back booth at Brothers Bistro, a great health-food eatery within walking distance of her office.

“Blake is in the field taking some sketches of the renovation project in Brooklyn. This morning I put the finishing touches on the blueprints for the town houses in D.C. and realized I actually had some breathing room for a change.”

It was amazing how far Steven and Blake had come in just over a decade. They’d built their business from a two-man company, working out of a storefront, to one of the major players with a staff of ten, an office in midtown and contracts that were expanding their business from its Manhattan locale to the capital.

“If business keeps growing this way, any midday getaway would be wishful thinking,” Steven said.

“Are you and Blake planning to hire more people?”

“We may have to, just to handle the volume. But my fear is, as I’ve explained to Blake, at some point the bottom is going to drop out. Builders are going to stop building because no one can afford to buy.”

Mia nodded in agreement. She knew all too well the fragility of the current economy and how it had wreaked havoc on countless American businesses, not to mention the thousands who’d lost their homes.

“I don’t want to have to hire new people and realize in six months or a year that we have to let them go.”

“What does Blake say?”

“You know Blake, Mr. Optimistic. But I think I’m getting him to see my point.”

“So what’s plan B?”

“Work our asses off,” he said with a chuckle.

Mia raised her water glass. “To working our asses off.”

As she sat there laughing and talking with the man she loved and who loved her back, she knew that it was only a matter of time before the lies began. And she could only pray that he never found out—not so much about the Cartel, which would be devastating enough—but about her and Michael.

Savannah’s censure she could live with. Danielle’s sharp tongue she could handle. But the hurt and lack of respect that she knew would be in Steven’s eyes would kill her inside. She would do whatever it took to keep that information from him. She’d get through it.

But the true test would come when she saw Michael again for the first time. She knew it would be soon.

Much too soon.