Dark Deals (The Dark Deals Series Book 1)

by Diana W.

  “It was so nice meeting you,” the woman waved goodbye to Harley.

  “Likewise,” Harley smirked.

  Cornell gave Harley a disapproving stare and to that, Harley chuckled to the ceiling. If she was forced to be here, she would find some form of entertainment, regardless of who it affected.

  She decided on the Moscato Mule and took her drink as she ventured back into the sea of people. After listening to the opening presentation and a few political speakers, Harley drifted to one of the open exhibits of the museum. As the mild effects of the drink settled in, she became less concerned about Justin or Cornell, for that matter. She decided that if she didn’t run into him within the next fifteen minutes, she was heading to the prime rib section of the buffet line to load up on enough meat to make PETA throw paint on her.

  Harley moved from painting to painting, trying her best to relate the title of the work to what she was seeing. For some, she understood immediately what the artist was trying to convey, but for others, she assumed she needed to be either high or under the influence of a ‘shroom.

  She stopped in front of one in particular and lowered her glass. “No fucking way,” she giggled to herself.

  “You see them, too, don’t you?” a man observed as he stepped next to her.

  Harley snorted and held her mouth, trying not to break out into a full out laughing fit.

  “The title,” a tear she prayed didn’t mess her makeup, rolled down her face from containing it. “Look at the title.”

  The man stepped forward to read the name and doubled over.

  “Release! They actually named it that!” His reddened face looked back in disbelief and almost doused Harley’s entire mood. Of course, it was when she was being crass, laughing at a painting full of what she was certain was spread-open human assholes, that Justin would be the person to hear it.

  She took another sip of her drink and plastered a disarming smile on her face. There was no need to panic if he didn’t seem perturbed. “I clearly didn’t select the right profession if butts are considered a work of art.”

  “There are some plastic surgeons that wouldn’t argue that.” He stood back next to her. He was better looking in person and taller than she assumed. “Justin.” He offered her his hand.

  “Harley.” She returned the gesture with a knotted stomach that was replaced with the tiniest of flutters when he brought her hand to his lips for a gentle kiss.

  “It’s nice to meet you.” He smiled as his low-cut curls glistened under the light looking like the new and improved spokesperson for Soul Glo hair products.

  “Same here.” She slowly retracted her hand to her side.

  “Excuse me for saying this, but I’ve never seen you around before, and I find that hard to believe. I don’t think I could not see somebody as fine as you.”

  Harley’s fingers tapped her glass. “A compliment and an inquiry?”

  “Not at all,” Justin smirked. “Just a compliment. Hanging around you breaks this otherwise dull atmosphere.”

  “Now that would be the second time tonight that I’ve heard how unexciting this type of event can be.” She held her glass near her lips. “Why even come? Why contribute at all if all everyone does is complain about it?” It was starting to feel like the attendees didn’t understand the gravity of what those scholarships meant to kids who received them. It was risky being so blunt, but she had a feeling it appealed to Justin, unlike Cornell who took it as being argumentative.

  “Because...aesthetics,” he shrugged, unfazed. “It looks good to say you contributed to a worthy cause, right? You smile for the cameras. You write it off on your taxes, and some lucky students go to school for free. It’s a win-win all around.” He leaned toward her and whispered, “I just wish the event planners understood that not everyone who has money likes bland caviar, snails’ backs, and dated jazz bands.”

  Harley held her hand to her chest and giggled. Of all the preconceived expectations she had of Justin, a sense of humor wasn’t one of them. “Ahh, so you actually like seasoning?” she teased. “And here I was thinking you were a beet juice kind of man.”

  Justin’s chest rumbled in delight. “I mean, it is good for you, but I like my food on the hearty side.” He eyed her. “You know, the kind that sticks to your ribs and speaks to your soul.” His tongue swiped over his bottom lip, and he swiveled his head back to the painting with a mischievous grin.

  The unsubtle implication informed Harley that Justin had no hang-ups about her, which meant she was in. Now would be the perfect time for her to exit. It would prompt that thing all men shared whether they knew it or not. They all found sport in women who gave them just enough to keep them interested but not enough to think they’d completely won them over. The thrill of the chase was a real thing, and Harley was about to fire the starting pistol.

  “Well, Justin, this discussion about asses was fun, but I feel that I must do the adult thing and go mingle. Maybe we’ll run into each other again.” Harley threw him a bone and playfully walked away from him. She knew his eyes would be glued to her ass because her dress made it too perfectly obnoxious to miss.

  “Harley,” Justin called out to her, just as she neared the open exit of the exhibit. The view of her from behind didn’t need a disruption, but he couldn’t risk her disappearing. He didn’t even have a last name.

  “Yes?”

  “Make sure that you say yes again.”

  “To what?” Harley lit up with confusion.

  “The dance I ask you for when I not-so-mistakenly run into you again tonight.”

  A little smoothness was always all right with her. “Guess you’ll just have to ask and see what happens.” Harley gave him a lopsided smirk then exited.

  Toward the end of the night, Harley had a few more of those signature drinks and found herself engaged in a conversation with some big shot lawyer named Jason Wheeler. He wasn’t attractive by any means and his breath smelled like hooves, but she did enjoy his shit-talking of the other people in attendance.

  “Yeah, and you see that one there?” He motioned with his chin. “The man with the salt and pepper beard to the right.”

  “Un-huh.” Harley’s antennas were on full alert at the object of his next rant. Any juicy information she could get on the Gaines family would be advantageous.

  “His name is Robert Gaines. Owns The Gaines Corporation. I’m sure you heard of it.”

  “Yeah, of course. Home products, right?”

  “Right, but you know a few of us like to call him Keven Lomax.” He chuckled at himself.

  “Kevin Lomax?” Harley questioned. “Why? What kind of nickname is that?”

  “You ever see the movie The Devil’s Advocate?”

  “Uhh, I have, but it’s been a while.”

  “Well,” he leaned in closer to her, “no one could ever trace back how Robert started his business, and he always claims it was all pure luck, like being in the right place at the right time. Well, in the movie, Kevin Lomax is a lawyer that never loses a case, and it’s because he does whatever it takes to win. Turns out his father was actually the devil and played on Kevin’s value in vanity.” Jason took a gulp of his drink. “Now, I‘m not saying Robert is of the devil or anything, but the muthafucka is vain and something about him just ain’t right. And don't get me started on those boys of his.”

  “Please get started.”

  The sound of Cornell’s voice made Jason almost fumble the drink in his hand and made Harley wish she could make herself disappear.

  “I didn’t take you for a gossip, Wheeler.” Cornell stepped to the balding, heavyset man who reeked of pussy desperation. He’d been watching him circle Harley like prey since the second time she left the bar. “But based on your lack of wins in the courtroom lately, speaking on my family must make your dick extra hard.”

  “Now, Cornell.” Jason seemed prepared to backtrack, “I was just having a conversation with—”

  Harley felt a tug on her hand and turned around
to a smiling Justin. “I’m here for that dance if you’re interested.”

  Even though Justin had been doing the diplomatic thing of shaking a few hands with stakeholders, he had an eye on Harley at all times. The minute he saw Cornell add himself to the equation, he knew he needed to act. A new face in this type of social circle, especially a pretty one, was like catnip. Every man would want an opportunity to flex their status to her like a bunch of strutting peacocks playing “Look At Me”. He and Cornell played similar roles in their respective families, which usually put them at odds with one another. He knew the Gaines were after his family’s business. They took his dad’s health decline as blood in the water, but Justin didn’t care how successful they were, their business practices were dirty, and he would die before he allowed his father to sell to them.

  Harley was grateful for the unexpected out and didn’t hesitate to take the offer. “Excuse me, gentlemen.” She took Justin’s hand and followed him to the dance floor.

  Jason used the temporary distraction of Cornell’s seething gaze on Harley and Justin to remove himself from the line of fire. Cornell couldn’t explain the source of his anger, especially since people talked worst shit about his family. It was something about the way Jason stared at Harley’s body and touched her arm or back during a laughing moment that pissed him off. He was a certified creep with a track record of inappropriateness, and although Harley wasn’t his to speak for, she was his responsibility.

  “Well, this isn’t too bad for boring, huh?” Harley smiled as she and Justin swayed to the band’s version of “Can You Stand the Rain”.

  “Not too bad at all.” Justin adjusted his hand her back. “I told you I’d be back for you. And now that I’ve got you here, I want to know more about you.”

  “Like?”

  “Hmmm.” He looked up at one of the expensive chandeliers and brought his gaze back to her. "What's your favorite color?”

  “Really?” Harley stopped dancing to give him a look of disapproval. “You really want to do this generic question thing after our first conversation consisted of assholes? You thought ‘favorite colors’ was the logical next step?”

  “Well, damn.” Justin playfully squeezed her tighter to set her back in motion. “Excuse me for treading delicately.”

  “Now, you tell me what part of me looks like it needs to be handled delicately?”

  His eyebrow rose. “Is that a challenge?”

  “If you’d like to get slapped, sure it is,” she grinned.

  “Man,” Justin laughed. If he thought Harley had his interest piqued in the exhibit, she’d just raised the stakes. “It may be too soon, but I’d like to call you sometime.”

  “Would you now?” Harley reveled in her accomplishment. She was one step closer to bagging Justin and another step closer to getting rid of Cornell.

  “I would,” he pushed.

  “Let’s see how well you continue to dance and maybe we’ll discuss putting your number in my phone.”

  Justin playfully shook his head. “Well, let me go ahead and seal the deal then.” He held her arm up and spun her around, making them both laugh.

  From their table, to the right of the dance floor, Mo leaned over to Cornell. “Looks like she has him locked.”

  “It would seem so.” Cornell tried not to focus on the dancing couple, but he couldn’t help it. Either Harley was that good at pretending, or she was truly enjoying herself. And for some reason, it was getting under his skin.

  “They’re all out of the artichoke-stuffed mushrooms.” Victoria sulked her way into her chair on the opposite side of Cornell. Mo tried his best to hide his amusement and got up from his seat to leave Cornell alone with her. Mo thought Victoria was fine as fuck, but she wasn’t worth the tantrums that came with her.

  “We can pick up something on the way home.” Cornell offered a level-headed solution.

  “When are we leaving anyway?” Victoria sucked her teeth and folded her arms.

  Rather than continue to subject himself to a foul mood that Vicki would only heighten, Cornell decided it was the perfect time to exit.

  “We can leave now actually. Let me say goodbye to my brother and father, and I’ll meet you by the entrance.”

  “Ok.” She ran her fingers over his chest, hoping it signaled that their night didn’t have to end after the event.

  Cornell caught the hint and casually disregarded it. Vicki’s bedroom skills were decent, but he wasn’t interested in the least bit. Not with the kind of weird mood he was in. He wasn’t sure Madam Sinclair’s would even fix it.

  “You wanna go grab some real food?” Justin snapped Harley out the eye-stalking she was doing to Cornell as he exited with the vegan warrior princess.

  “Real food as in?”

  “I told you,” he smiled. “I like soul food. There’s a spot I know that’s open late. I’m friends with the owner.”

  “Sure.” Harley smiled and then suddenly remembered she didn’t drive. Hell, she barely remembered what her driver looked like. “I think I need to find my driver and let him know.”

  “It’s no problem.” Justin felt comfortable enough to hold her hand, an action she didn’t find objective. “Let’s go find him. I can drop you off at home.”

  Harley gave Justin a mean side-eye. “Don’t go getting any ideas.”

  “I’m just trying to feed you." Justin innocently held his hands up. “That’s it.”

  “Un-huh.” She rolled her eyes then smirked. “Let’s go.”

  CHAPTER 16

  It was nearly three in the morning and Harley, although tired, was beaming when she shoved her keycard into the elevator. She couldn’t remember the last time she talked and laughed that much with anybody besides Gianna. Justin fed her everything from sweet potato casserole to smothered oxtails and didn’t judge her when she cleaned her plate.

  Harley stepped into the pitch-black living room and sighed in relief when she slid off her heels. Her feet had been calling her everything but a child of God since she decided to add dancing to her activities for the night.

  “Enjoyed yourself?”

  Harley shrilled at the sound of the deep voice and flipped on the light switch nearest her.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?!”

  Cornell, still in his tuxedo, bowtie loosened, was seated on the sofa with his hands locked in his lap. “I asked you a question, Miss Dupree.”

  “And I asked you why the fuck are you up in here, sitting in the goddamn dark like a serial killer?!”

  They continued to stare down one another, neither willing to answer first.

  “How was the food at Neville’s?”

  Cornell shifted his line of questioning although he could give a shit how it tasted. He just needed Harley to know that he would always know her whereabouts as long as she was under his watch.

  “Better than the vegan twat you had your face smothered in, I’m sure,” Harley bit back. She had no reason to bring up his date, but since he was coming at her sideways about hers, all bets were off.

  Cornell slowly dragged his tongue over the top row of his teeth. Between the cussing and the attitude, Harley was testing him more often than he cared for, but whatever that thing was that she did to him when she was being feisty and combative was intensifying. He stood up and with his hands in his pockets, carefully studied her. The bone straight hairstyle she had when she left for the gala was now frizzed from the evening’s festivities. Her makeup, though still intact, had begun to fade, especially her lipstick. At that particular observation, his entire body tensed.

  “You kissed him?”

  Offended by his intrusiveness, Harley placed her hand on her hips. “And if I did, why would that be any of your business? If the end result is acquiring his company, why would the method of obtaining it concern you?”

  She had a point that Cornell couldn’t dispute. He wasn’t sure what made him come here, but now that he was, he had to save face.

  “Because your method,” he emp
hasized, “could look suspicious. We can’t take the risk of you looking too eager. Even if Justin is persuaded by your ‘charms’, his family would call him out on it. Do you want to be pegged as some opportunistic gold digger?”

  “Is that why you’re here?” Harley laughed off the indirect insult. “To lecture me on how to go about getting a man to want me? Because last time I checked, I didn’t have a problem doing the same to you or is your short-term memory as raggedy as your control issues?”

  “I beg your pardon?” Cornell took offense to the accusation and practically charged her. Keeping the chaos that constantly circled his family at bay demanded order, and he would never apologize for enforcing his authority when it was warranted.

  “You heard me.” She brushed past him to put her purse down. “You could be balls deep in some Save The Rainforest Pussy, yet you’re in my face, having a testosterone tantrum because I didn’t do things to your overbearing liking.”

  “Miss Dupree.” Cornell issued the warning, feeling that familiar urge building again.

  “It’s Harley!” She stepped to him with her itching fist balled. “I’m not a fucking school teacher!” She slammed her palm into the wall.

  He eyed the victim of her wrath, wondering if the hit was meant for him. “I suggest you take a minute to calm down.”

  “Or. What. Nigga?!” She clapped her hands to each syllable. She never did well with threats, no matter who was dishing them out. Cornell’s head would become one with the expensive vase in the corner if he tried anything crazy.

  “Or I’ll calm you down myself,” he warned, his breathing labored.

  Her manicured, accusatory finger was barely inches from his face. “You ain’t gon’ do shit!”

  She barely got the last word out before she was pushed against the wall with a hand around her neck and his tongue down her throat. She moaned at the familiar taste of the alcohol they shared yesterday until reality violently reminded her of what she was doing and who she was doing it with.

  Harley forcefully pushed him off in disbelief and unexplainable horniness, breathing almost as heavy he was. There was a wild look in his eyes. The same one she witnessed that night at Madam Sinclair’s.