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“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.
Chapter 3
It had been three days since Mia received her assignment and she had yet to do anything about it. She felt frozen, torn between what she had agreed to do—the oath she’d sworn—and the possible repercussions if she did what was necessary.
“Mia.”
She glanced up from the files on her desk and was surprised to see Ashley standing in front of her.
“I...didn’t hear you come in,” she muttered.
“I know. I knocked three times, but you didn’t answer. I’ve been standing here for a good thirty seconds and you didn’t budge. Is everything okay? You’ve been totally distracted for the past few days. That’s so not like you.”
Mia sighed heavily and leaned back in her chair. She’d been debating about sharing some of her dilemma with Ashley—an abridged version—in hopes of getting an objective view. But because of the sensitivity of the issue, she’d balked at airing her dirty laundry. But holding it in was driving her crazy.
She was a person of action, one who dealt with issues head-on. This inertia was maddening.
“You want to talk?” Ashley gently nudged. “I’m a pretty good listener,” she added with an encouraging smile.
Mia pressed her lips together in thought. Finally, she spoke. “Have you ever been in a situation when an old flame came back into your life?”
“Sure. Why?” She sat down on the chair beside Mia’s desk.
“What did you do?”
“Well, we had dinner, talked about old times, the way things were. I spent the night at his place and we woke up the next morning and realized that it was truly over—you can’t go back. At least Dave and I couldn’t.”
“Hmm.” Mia’s gaze drifted away. Spending the night with Michael was not an option. She couldn’t do that to Steven in a million years.
“Is that what’s going on?” Ashley tentatively asked.
Mia turned her gaze on Ashley. “Something like that. I’ll put it this way, seeing him again is inevitable.”
“And you don’t know how to handle it.”
“It’s been a long time,” Mia admitted. “But a lot was left unresolved.”
“Well, I’d never be one to tell somebody what to do, but the one thing I do know, unless you resolve whatever it is that’s eating at you, it will always jump up and get in your way.” She smiled softly. “You’ll work it out.”
Ashley hopped up from her seat. “My bill is in the mail,” she teased, drawing a chuckle from Mia. “The meeting with Verve Boutique is still on for noon.”
“Right. The ones from Tribeca.”
“Yep. They should be here soon.”
Mia nodded. “Buzz me when you’re ready.”
“Sure.” She headed for the door then stopped. “Mia...”
“Yes.”
“As I said, I don’t give advice often, but if I can offer this one piece—just think with your head and not with your heart.” She tossed up her hands. “That’s it.” She grinned and sauntered out.
Ashley was right, Mia thought. She was thinking and projecting based on pure emotion and old memories.
Michael was more than over her by now. She was sure he’d moved on and was probably involved with someone else.
She was getting bent out of shape about nothing. What she needed to concentrate on was finding a way to get the information she needed.
That thought was like a knife to the chest. The idea that Michael could be behind an escort service still stunned her. It seemed impossible. But the reality was that people change. And if that adage was true, then Michael Burke was definitely not the man she remembered.
Think with your head.
That’s exactly what she was going to start doing. She swiveled her chair toward the flat-screen computer monitor that sat on the right-hand side of her desk. She did a quick search of Avante Enterprises. Within moments a list of choices came up on the screen. She chose the link that opened the company Web site.
Michael’s handsome face greeted her and her breath caught in her throat as a flood of memories rushed to the surface. Think with your head. She pushed the images back and started taking notes.
Before she knew it, she’d filled three pages and Ashley was buzzing her about their noon appointment. She shoved the notes in her desk. At least she’d done something concrete, she thought, mildly satisfied with herself.
She closed the file, got up from her desk and went to join the ladies in the conference space.
* * *
Felicia and Linda Hall were sisters and the proud owners of Verve. They’d been in business for about a year, but had never had the grand opening that they really wanted. Now, with some experience under their belts and a solid customer base, they thought it was time.
Felicia was the talker of the two, and wasted no time laying out what they wanted: a full weekend with music, entertainment, food and plenty of media coverage, she’d said.
“What kind of budget do you have to work with?” Mia asked.
“Five thousand dollars. Six max,” Felicia answered. “But we’re really hoping you can do it for four.” She flashed a hopeful smile that revealed a tiny gap in her front teeth.
On cue, Ashley and Mia stole a glance at each other. Five would barely cover their expenses, not to mention putting on the event.
Ashley’s look clearly said, It’s your decision, but I like them.
“Why don’t I have Ashley put some ideas together for you and what we think is feasible and we’ll get back to you with a proposal by the end of the week. How’s that?”
The sisters smiled in unison. The gap mirrored on their faces.
Felicia stuck out her hand toward Mia. “Thank you so much.” She shook Mia’s hand, then did the same with Ashley.
“I really hope you’ll consider taking us on,” Linda said, the first time she’d spoken since they’d arrived.
Ashley stood. Her notebook pressed against her small breasts. “By the way, I meant to ask, how did you find out about us?”
“Oh, a friend of ours who helped to get our business up and running,” Felicia offered.
“Michael Burke,” the sisters sang in harmony.
“He recommended you very highly,” Felicia added.
Mia held back a yelp of surprise. Her pulse pounded so loudly that the voices faded into the background. She wasn’t sure if she’d even said goodbye.
The sound of the front door closing snapped her to attention. She was alone in the conference room.
Recommended by Michael Burke. Coincidence or just her luck? Manhattan, for all its pomp and circumstance and worldwide notoriety, was nothing more than an island jam-packed with people and buildings. Sooner or later paths were bound to cross.
So he hadn’t forgotten about her and even thought enough of her to recommend a possible client. She didn’t know if that was a good or a bad thing, but it was one thing—the opening that she needed.
Chapter 4
Michael Burke tugged off his suit jacket and tossed it on the back of the couch before heading across the gleaming wood floor of his condo to the minibar on the far side of the living room.
He took out a bottle of brandy and poured a short tumbler full—no ice. It was a habit he’d picked up over the past few years. The years after his divorce, the years after Mia.
He took a long swallow, closed his eyes and let the smooth, warm liquid work its way down and hopefully soothe the constant ache that had found a home in the center of his gut.
Absently, he put the glass on the top of the bar counter and went to the window. Lights flickered in apartment windows and in offices inhabited by the lone employee working overtime to impress the boss.
Michael braced his palm against the frame of the window. The sky suddenly lit up, followed by a loud crack of thunder.
The rain would come soon, Michael thought. On nights like this, when he could get away, he remembered walking through the city with Mia, laughing and hugging as they darted under the eaves of buildings and into doorways, stealing kisses like teenagers.
His jaw clenched reflexively. He had many memories of Mia. But the one that stood out in his mind was the day she walked out of his life.
They’d spent a glorious night together at the Hilton on Avenue of the Americas. His wife, Christine, was visiting her mother in Philadelphia, her childhood home. She’d been gone for a week and was due back the following day. Michael intended to make the most of his last night of freedom.
“I can’t do this,” she’d said. He remembered teasing her about what she’d meant before making love to her, pouring his heart and soul into her.
When he awoke the next morning she was gone. He called and called. He went to her apartment and got no answer. Her neighbors said they hadn’t seen her.
She was working for a small management company at the time, and when he inquired about her, he was informed that she’d taken a leave of absence.
For weeks afterward, he couldn’t sleep, and he barely ate. Every time his phone rang, he knew it would be Mia, but it never was.
Then about three months later a letter came to his office, no return address.
Dear Michael,
I know I took the coward’s way out. But if I didn’t I would have never found the strength to leave you.
No matter what it is that we feel for each other, it was wrong. We were wrong. And if I could do that to another woman, then what kind of woman did that make me?
I hurt. Every day I hurt. But I know in time it will get better. And you will find a way to be the husband Christine deserves.
I wish you all good things, my love, now and always.
Please don’t try to contact me. It’s best for all of us.
Mia
He still had that letter. He’d kept it all these years. Memorized every line. He would recite it to himself whenever the overwhelming urge to call or see her would consume him.
Most ironic, less than a year after Mia walked out of his life, Christine filed for divorce. She’d found someone else.
He supposed it was what he’d deserved, and he’d agreed to the divorce uncontested.
Michael turned away from the window, just as the rain began to fall. He was a free man now, a wealthy man who could have whomever and whatever he wanted. He wanted Mia Turner. And he was going to have her, no matter how long it took or what it took to achieve his goal. He’d honored her wishes not to contact her, until now.
He picked up the remnants of his drink and finished it off. It was just a matter of time, he thought as the golden-brown liquid heated his insides. A matter of time.
* * *
“Whew, it’s pouring out there,” Steven muttered, shaking himself off as he crossed the threshold of the apartment that he and Mia shared.
He’d given up his tiny one-bedroom apartment when he and Mia decided that they wanted to be with each other exclusively. That was six months ago, and he hadn’t regretted a day of it.
He’d often envied the stability of Blake and Savannah’s marriage, although he would never admit that to Blake, even though they were best friends. Blake and Savannah were a team and the union had grounded and matured Blake in a way that nothing else had. Savannah and now their new baby were his life. And the business that he and Blake had built from the ground up, which had been his number-one priority, now took second place to his wife and daughter.
Steven had often teased Blake about how square he’d become since his marriage: no more hanging out with the fellas, dating, chasing women, or even talking about them. Steven couldn’t imagine himself with the same woman day in and day out—tied down. The thought often chilled him. Until he met Mia. She turned his world on its ear and he was still pleasantly reeling from the aftershocks. Never in his wildest imaginings did he think he’d be looking forward to coming home to his woman at night.
He shook his head in wonder as he dropped his umbrella in the stand by the door.
Sounds of the evening news drifted from the television set in the living room, mixed with the tantalizing aromas of something distinctly Italian.
Steven grinned. Mia sure knew the way to her man’s heart—knockout sex and a mouthwatering meal.
Mia poked her head out from the archway leading to the kitchen. Her face was scrubbed clean of makeup and her skin seemed to glow. Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail, revealing the soft angles of her brown sugar-toned face. She greeted him with one of her heart-stopping smiles. God, he loved her.
Steven moved in her direction until he was right next to her. His gray-green eyes moved like a trained masseur’s stroke across her face.
“Hey, baby.” His tone was low and very intimate—just for her.
She slid her right hand around the back of his neck and took the last step that separated them. Her body melded with his like putty, molding itself to the hard lines of his from the broad expanse of his chest to his muscular thighs.
Mia tilted her head slightly upward and brought her mouth to his.
Steven groaned deep in his throat when the softness of her lips connected with his. He maneuvered her so that her back was against the frame of the archway to the kitchen.
The sweetness of her tongue set off a firestorm in his gut. His erection was electrifying and so suddenly powerful that the world receded and an uncontrolled need took its place.
Her long, slender fingers grazed along his body, stoking the growing fire of desire. She reached up and pushed down the fragile spaghetti straps of her thin top and tugged it down, exposing her bare breasts.
Steven nearly hollered. Instead, he feasted on one then the other, as Mia’s short nails dug into his shoulder blades and her whispers of “Yes, yes, yes,” rose in concert with the thunder that boomed in the night.
He dropped to his knees, pulling down her cutoff shorts and pink thong in the process, until he came face-to-face with her hidden treasure. Like a moth to a flame he was drawn to her, taking the tiny pearl between his lips and teasing and stroking it with his tongue until her inner thighs began to tremble and her knees grew weak.
Steven rose, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants in one smooth motion, freeing himself, his phallus hard and pulsing. He lifted her off the floor and she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist and locked her arms around his neck.
She was hot and wet when Steven pushed up inside her and he nearly exploded with that first thrust.
Their coupling was hard and fast, the need between them so intense that fulfillment was the one and only goal.
And when it came, their cries of ecstasy rose above the drumroll of thunder and was more brilliant than the lightning that kept silhouetting the Manhattan skyline.
* * *
Mia sat behind the closed doors of her office, reviewing the data that she’d collected on Michael and Avante Enterprises. He was currently the management company for Mercury Entertainment, which groomed and produced new R & B stars. She did a check of the client list and found it to be impressive, to say the least. She recognized more than a few of the names. According to the information that she had, Avante was in the process of planning a major red-carpet event to debut its new artists.
She smiled. She had what she needed. Although Avante oversaw the operations, they subcontracted out all the work.
Mia turned on her shredder and one by one she slid the pages through. Couldn’t be too careful.
All night, even after that incredible erotic romp with Steven, her thoughts continued to drift back to Michael and the job at hand. She knew how weak she could be when it came to Michael. She had maintained her strength by staying away from him all these years. That was about to end.
She knew that she was tempting fate by opening a door that would best be left closed. However, she’d sworn an oath to the Cartel: not only would she uphold the tenets of secrecy, but she would execute her assignments to the best of her ability for the ultimate good of society, without regard to personal interest.
Mia believed in the mission of the Cartel to right wrongs and to protect the welfare of the innocent, as an aid to law enforcement. She took it all very seriously, and she could not allow her personal issues to hamper her ability to get the information that she needed on the escort service.
Besides, she was a big girl. She could handle herself with Michael. Plenty of time, space and other people had passed between them—enough to make what she had to do strictly business.
Strictly business, she counseled herself, as she dialed the offices of Avante Enterprises.
“Good morning. My name is Mia Turner, MT Management. I’d like to speak with Mr. Burke.”
“Please hold.”
Mia squeezed her eyes shut and sucked in a breath. She wondered if the receptionist could hear the uncontrollable pounding of her heart that was surely vibrating through the phone.
Another voice, more controlled, less perky came on the line.
“May I help you?”
“Yes. I’m calling to speak with Mr. Burke.”
“Mr. Burke is very busy at the moment. Maybe I can help you.”
She hadn’t realized that Michael had risen to the point of having two screeners for his calls.
“Perhaps if you let him know that it’s Mia Turner...”
There was a moment of deafening silence.
Ms. Control cleared her throat. “He really cannot be disturbed, but I’ll be happy to take a message.”
Mia’s slender neck jerked back. She was about to blurt out, “Say what?” but remembered who she was—a professional.