Читать книгу Risky Business of Love - Yahrah John St. - Страница 8

When Ciara arrived at Capital Grille, she found Jonathan waiting for her at the bar having a Scotch neat. Ciara was somewhat nervous about her attire. “I hope this is okay?” she asked, referring to her buttercup business suit. She hadn’t had the time to go home and change.

“Of course it is.” Jonathan grinned widely. “You look beautiful.” From where he was, he liked everything he saw.

“Have a seat, you’ll love this place. They make the best lobster bisque.”

“Ooh, it sounds delicious,” Ciara said. “And I’m starved.”

“CG has excellent entrées and a great selection of wines.”

“Sounds mouthwatering,” Ciara licked her lips in anticipation.

Jonathan followed the tiny action, mesmerized by her mouth.

“Your table is ready,” the hostess said, interrupting them.

“I’m curious as to why a guy like you would choose to get involved with me, a television reporter. I’m sure your family advised against it.” Once they were seated, Ciara wasted no time cutting to the chase.

“True, they don’t agree,” he replied. “But I make my own decisions.”

“In a political campaign, I doubt that’s even possible,” Ciara said aloud.

“So you think I’m a puppet and my father pulls the strings?”

“No, no, no,” Ciara explained herself. “I merely meant that you probably have a lot of people telling you how to dress, how to talk, how to act. It must be extremely difficult. I’m sure they’re the reason you didn’t announce your candidacy today. I think that was a wise decision.”

“Thank you.” Jon smiled. At least someone appreciated his game plan. “I thought I might appear too eager to the public and not respectful of my father’s tenure if I announced my candidacy five minutes after he resigned from office.”

“I agree with you. The public can be somewhat fickle, but that’s what makes the news so exciting and unpredictable.”

The way she talked about her job with such passion made Jonathan envious. It must be nice to decide for yourself the direction your life would take. For him, his life had been planned out since birth: private school, Harvard, law school, and now running for office. “Have you always known you wanted to be a reporter?” Jonathan asked. “Because you seem to enjoy what you do.”

“Well, of course,” Ciara replied as if the thought to do anything else had never crossed her mind. She’d always wanted to be a reporter. That was why she’d run her high school and college newspapers. “I love what I do. Being a journalist is in my blood. I live it, I breathe it, 24-7.”

“Wow, say how you truly feel!” Jonathan said, overwhelmed by the sheer enthusiasm in Ciara’s voice. He wished he knew what that felt like. Yes, he was good at being a lawyer and politician. He’d trained his whole life for it, but was it his true passion? He didn’t know. He’d never been allowed to find out.

“Don’t you love what you do?” Ciara asked.

“No, not always,” Jonathan answered truthfully.

Ciara was surprised by his answer. Did the golden boy have problems like the rest of the human race? What troubles could someone like him, born with a silver spoon in his mouth, ever have that couldn’t be solved by one flick of his father’s wand?

“Why not?” Ciara asked. “From what I can see you’re a natural. The camera loves you,” she said. She wondered if she could get an exclusive interview for WTCF.

“Thank you.” Jonathan blushed, causing Ciara’s heart to go pitter-patter.

“You’re welcome. But I’m sure I’m not telling you something you haven’t been told before. You have the it factor, now you just need to show that you can back it up.”

“Well, that’s exactly what I intend to do. I intend to showcase issues important to my community like educating our children and taxes.”

“Sounds like you know the issues and that’s important. Because trust me, the press won’t let you get away with a pat answer.”

“Don’t I know it,” Jonathan replied.

The waitress came back with their lobster bisque and placed it in front of them. “This looks delicious.” Ciara wasted no time in digging her spoon into the creamy mixture with chunky bits of lobster. She tore into the bowl and it was empty before Jonathan had hardly had a bite.

He’d been so busy watching her facial expressions as she devoured the soup, he’d barely touched his. She’d looked up several times and found him openly staring.

“Mmmm, was that good,” Ciara commented. She placed her spoon in the empty bowl and peeled a nibble off the warm loaf of bread the waitress had brought to accompany the soup.

“I can tell.” Jonathan leaned over and wiped some of the liquid off the corner of her mouth with his finger and licked it off with his tongue.

Ciara was the first to break their gaze and speak. “Enough about our respective careers. I’m curious as to what makes a man like you tick.”

“What do you want to know?”

“C’mon, something tells me you’re a man of many talents,” Ciara replied flirtatiously. “You’re surrounded by all that money and power, it must be intoxicating.”

“Sometimes it is,” he responded. And sometimes he wished for a moment of peace. Over the next three months he wouldn’t have much of it with the special election coming up in November. That was why he’d been so hell-bent on keeping his date this evening. The women he typically dated were all the same.

Beautiful, well-bred socialites skilled in the art of conversation, parties and none of whom had the least bit of substance, which was why Ciara Miller intrigued him. He was sure he’d barely touched the surface of such a complex woman.

“And you’re unattached because?” Ciara asked.

“I choose to be. And you? Why is a beautiful woman like you still single?”

“I’m not the settling-down type,” Ciara stated. “I didn’t grow up with a white picket fence with dreams of having a family. I was raised by a single mother and grew up poor with barely a roof over my head.” Ciara drew her water glass to her lips and took a generous sip.

Jonathan’s brow rose. Her statement revealed a lot about Ciara. Clearly there were some things in her past that had affected her deeply because hurt was etched across her face, but just as soon as it surfaced, the pain was gone.

“I can’t wait for dinner,” Ciara said, smiling again while she changed the subject. “Because if that bisque was any indicator, dinner ought to be darn good.”

After a leisurely dinner and light conversation about their various interests, they shared a decadent chocolate mousse that afterward left Ciara feeling frisky. Could it be because Jonathan had removed his overcoat, rolled up his sleeves and unbuttoned his top button? Just that little bit of skin was making Ciara all kinds of horny. What was it they said about chocolate?

“Listen, I enjoy my freedom,” Ciara said after regaling Jonathan with tales of her bad-girl youth. “No restrictions. You know what I’m saying. I like being completely uninhibited.”

“I like uninhibited,” Jonathan said, leaning in closer until their arms touched.

“Do you?” Ciara scooted closer and lightly rubbed his arm.

At the slightest touch of her hand, all the hairs on Jonathan’s arm stood up at attention. He was more aware of her than ever.

“Yes, I do,” Jonathan said. He appreciated a woman in touch with her sexual side and one so completely unpredictable. “So let’s get out of here and perhaps we can get uninhibited together.”

“No can do, sweetheart,” Ciara replied and rose to her feet. “I have to work tomorrow and with the way my boss has been riding me I can’t afford to be late again.”

“Oh, you’re no fun.” Jonathan pouted.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Ciara replied, seductively leaving Jonathan no doubt of her intentions.

“Promise?” Jonathan raised a brow.

“I promise.”

“I’m home,” Ciara yelled later that evening as she walked inside the apartment.

Rachel poked her head out from the kitchen and wiped her hands against her flowery apron. “How was your day?”

“Oh, it was rough,” Ciara said, kicking off her shoes and flopping down on the chaise on their sectional sofa. She tucked her legs underneath her and laid her head against the armrest.

“How about a glass of wine?” Rachel suggested.

“That sounds wonderful,” Ciara said, massaging her temples.

Ciara smiled at her younger sister. Poor thing couldn’t dress worth a darn. Rachel was more comfortable in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt than in Ciara’s high-fashion wardrobe. Rachel was wearing a pair of old sweats and her long hair hung in a ponytail.

Rachel returned several minutes later carrying two glasses of red wine and sat beside Ciara. “Mine wasn’t any better. My professor ripped apart my psychology paper.”

“Guess who I saw today?” Ciara asked, taking a sip of wine.

“Please don’t tell me it was Diamond,” Rachel guessed correctly. Ciara nodded. “Asking for money no doubt?”

“Which I don’t really have, but…”

Rachel turned and glared at her sister. “Please tell me you didn’t give it to her?”

Ciara shrugged her shoulders. “Why do you let her do this to you, Ci-Ci?” Rachel called Ciara by the nickname she’d come up with when she was two years old and hadn’t been able to say her name. “You let Diamond run a guilt trip on you every time because she had a hard life. Well so did you, sis. That woman dragged you around the country. You don’t owe her anything.” Rachel had seen Diamond come time and time again to Ciara for a handout and she was sick of it.

“I know, I know,” Ciara said. She hadn’t forgotten being kicked out of their apartment because Diamond couldn’t pay the rent or doing her homework in the back of some scummy bar. All because Diamond refused to grow up and keep a job. “But I can’t just leave her hanging in the wind. She’s my mother.”

“Yes, she is. But she’s a grown woman and quite capable of taking care of herself,” Rachel replied. Every time Rachel saw her, Diamond had another man on her arm. So why was she always looking to her daughter for a handout? “I’m tired of seeing her use you, Ciara. You have to stand up for yourself and stop letting her walk all over you. She only does this because you let her get away with it.”

Ciara stood up and walked over to stare out the window at the passing cars. “I know you’re right, Rachel. But you just don’t understand the bond Diamond and I share. Despite her shortcomings, we’ve always been there for each other through all the ups and downs. I don’t know how to walk away from that.”

Rachel jumped up, came over and squeezed her sister’s shoulders. “Ci-Ci, I’m not asking you to walk away from Diamond. I just don’t want to see Diamond continue to take advantage of you.”

Ciara patted Rachel’s hand and pulled away. “I know you mean well, Rachel, and I thank you for your concern, but I’m going to have to deal with Diamond myself.”

Rachel threw up her hands. “Okay, okay. It’s your funeral. I’ve spoken my piece. I told Dad I would have a talk with you and I did.”

“So Dad put you up to this?” Ciara inquired. “I should have known.” Diamond was Robert Miller’s least favorite person, which was surprising considering they’d once had a grand love affair. But then again, her father had been young and naive and maybe somewhat of a risk taker. And of course now after twenty-five years with her stepmother, Pilar, Robert had become somewhat of a stuffed shirt. “Well you can tell him that I’ve been properly warned, but that I’ll take it from here.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Rachel couldn’t resist delivering one final comment.

“Duly noted,” Ciara said.

Jonathan began his Friday clashing with his father’s expert opinion even though he’d rather have spent a leisurely morning making love to Ciara. He’d already prepared himself to hear about the dangers of dallying with the press because his father would have had overnight to think of an appropriate lecture.

True to form, when he arrived at his campaign headquarters, Zach, Reid and his parents were already huddled together in the conference room.

“Good morning,” Jonathan said to the elderly woman serving as his receptionist. A retiree, she’d generously volunteered her time as a contribution to his campaign and she just so happened to make the best cup of coffee Jonathan had ever had.

He was dropping his briefcase in his office and walking toward the conference room when Dorothy handed him a mug. “Thanks, Dorothy, you’re a doll.”

Dorothy returned a generous smile right back at him. She just loved it when the young man showed his pearly whites.

Jonathan knocked on the door before entering. “Can anyone join in this conversation? Or should I make myself scarce?”

“Come on in, Johnny boy,” Zach said, rising from his seat and shaking his best friend’s hand, “because we have a lot to discuss.” As Jonathan entered, Zach closed the door behind him.

His father didn’t waste any time laying into him. “You can’t get involved with a member of the press. Do you have any idea the damage you could do or might have already done? And the campaign hasn’t even started yet.” Charles Butler shook his head.

Jonathan took a seat at the head of the table. They must have thought he had never been in a campaign before. “I’m well aware of my actions, Dad. I’m not five years old.”

“Then you must know how precarious this situation is.”

“Jonathan, you know we only want what’s best for you.” His mother tried the maternal approach. “Perhaps you should end things with this Ciara Miller before it begins.”

“So you know her name,” Jonathan said. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. But what all of you need to know is I won’t be interrogated by any of you. This is my life and I choose how to live it.”

“Once you become a politician and are in the public eye,” his father said sternly, “you give up all rights to life solely as you see fit. I urge you to reconsider this behavior. It could be detrimental to your campaign.”

“I have to agree with your father.” Zach looked at Reid, who was sitting next to Jonathan. Reid stood up and moved to another chair down the table. “Listen, to me, Jonathan.” Zach scooted his chair next to his friend. “How do you know this Miller woman isn’t setting you up for some sort of scandal? That she hasn’t been paid off by the opposition to bring you down?”

“I don’t, but I will keep my eyes wide open,” Jonathan said defensively. He didn’t know why he was fighting so hard to maintain contact with Ciara; he barely knew her. Could it be because Ciara had completely surprised the heck out of him? Sure, they’d had great sex, but it was more than that—she excited him more than any woman ever had.