SYLVIE HATED THE COUNTDOWN TO A NEW YEAR. ESPECIALLY IN A CROWD OF COUPLES.
Everybody would be kissing in nine seconds and she was standing there with her third glass of champagne. Glancing around the room, Sylvie locked eyes with the only other guy who looked as though he wanted to be anywhere but there.
Nine!
That man is fine! she thought as she set her empty glass on the edge of a table. Maybe she was tipsy and that’s why she started walking toward Mr. Sex Appeal.
Eight!
Sylvie heard the voice of reason telling her to stop, pump her breaks, and don’t head over to this stranger. It wasn’t as if she had a right to expect a midnight kiss from him. But her feet wouldn’t stop, especially when their eyes met.
His golden-brown eyes reminded her of warm honey, and his slow once-over heated her body like a rocket ready to explode. Maybe he wanted this kiss as much as she needed it.
Also by Cheris Hodges
Just Can’t Get Enough
Let’s Get It On
More Than He Can Handle
Betting on Love
No Other Lover Will Do
His Sexy Bad Habit
Too Hot for TV
Recipe for Desire
Forces of Nature
Love After War
Rumor Has It
I Heard a Rumor
Deadly Rumors
Strategic Seduction
Published by Kensington Publishing Corp.
Tempted at Midnight
CHERIS HODGES
Kensington Publishing Corp.
www.kensingtonbooks.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
SYLVIE HATED THE COUNTDOWN TO A NEW YEAR. ESPECIALLY IN A CROWD OF COUPLES.
Also by
Title Page
Copyright Page
Acknowledgments
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Teaser chapter
To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.
DAFINA BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2019 by Cheris Hodges
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
Dafina and the Dafina logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
ISBN: 978-1-4967-2382-6
First Kensington Mass Market Edition: October 2019
ISBN-13: 978-1-4967-2383-3 (ebook)
ISBN-10: 1-4967-2383-X (ebook)
Acknowledgments
Writing can be a lonely gig, and I wouldn’t be anywhere without my family and my tribe of sister friend writers who have always had my back. So, to my Mom and Dad, my big sister, Adrienne, and my big brother, Timothy, thank you for believing in a little girl’s dream.
To my tribe of sister writer friends—Farrah Rochon, KD King, Carla Fredd, Adrienne Mishel, Sharina Harris, Synithia Williams, Piper G. Huguley, Seressia Glass, K.M. Jackson, Kaia Danielle, Jamie Wesley, Vanessa Riley, Jacki C. Kelly, Phyllis Bourne, Deborah Fletcher Mello, Carolyn Hector Hall, LaShon Hill, Sharon C. Cooper, Kianna Alexander—thank you for the love, the support, and kicks in the butt when needed!
To all the readers who continue to read my books and allow me a little time in their lives, thank you. Without you, there is no me.
Prologue
Sylvia Elaine Gates knew two things for sure. She had a thriving design business and enough money in her account to pay for the forty thousand dollars’ worth of Christmas decorations she needed to create a winter wonderland at Ella Kaye’s house. The local actress had commissioned SG Designs to decorate her house for the holidays. Despite the argument she and her partner, Amanda West, had had about all of the holiday jobs they’d committed to, Sylvie had added this one because she loved Ella Kaye’s style. The fact that her favorite actress noticed her work and wanted her to design her holiday theme left her beyond proud.
Amanda had called her selfish and told her that overextending the company with all of these decorating jobs was more about ego than the company’s expansion.
And expanding the company had been another argument the women were having on a daily basis. With their headquarters now in Atlanta, Sylvie wanted to open an office in New Orleans, her hometown, and dedicate it to the memory of her father. She knew of a couple of designers in the Big Easy who would be happy to work for her. Amanda thought the move was so that she could show people who doubted her how successful she was.
Standing in the middle of a shop, holding a declined bank card, made her feel like anything but a success.
“Can you try it again?” she whispered to the clerk.
“Sure. We have been having issues with the system today.” The clerk smiled and Sylvie felt as if she had said that just to spare her feelings.
Sylvie held her breath, hoping the card would go through this time. But when her phone vibrated in her pocket, she’d gotten her answer as to why she was having these issues.
Pulling the phone out, she read Amanda’s text message.
I’ve decided to end our partnership and I’ve taken my investment from the corporate account. Good luck in your future endeavors.
“Fucking bitch!” Sylvie exclaimed, then placed her hand over her mouth when the clerk eyed her with extra attitude. Sylvie held up her hand. “That was not directed at you.” She reached into her purse and pulled out her personal credit card. “Just put it on here.”
“Is it going to work?”
Now Sylvie could understand little sister getting tired of running a card with no money on it, but could she put a little bit of respect out there? “Yes, it will.” Of course, once this purchase went through, she was going to be in more debt than she wanted to think about. Closing her eyes, she imagined wrapping her hands around Amanda’s throat and squeezing until she lost her breath for about three minutes. She didn’t want to kill her, just make her as uncomfortable as she felt right now.
“Thank you, Miss Gates,” the clerk said as she handed Sylvie her credit card back.
Sylvie nodded and waited for a couple of workers to load her items in the SGD van. She put on a brave face as she drove to Ella’s, but in the back of her mind, all she could think about were the fifteen projects that she and Amanda had on the schedule.
It was way too late to call people and cancel. She would be ruined. In Atlanta, reputation is everything. And the way people love to spill tea, the first time Sylvie canceled a job, everyone would know.
Then there was her career-making project, the remodel of Jordan Industries—the premier African American cosmetics company. The business was going to be featured in a few national magazines, and the owners wanted to update the company’s image. When she’d gotten the call from the CEO’s assistant, she was floored. Growing up, Saturday mornings meant going to the mall and getting the latest Yvonne red lipstick. According to her mother, every woman should have the perfect tube of red lipstick. Obviously, her father agreed. Because when her mother painted her lips with a Jordan cosmetics product, her father always smiled. And later on in the evening, Sylvie always heard what she called kissy noises.
Working for JI would give her a chance to find out something she’d been wondering about for years. What happened to the Yvonne red lipstick?
* * *
Erik Jordan wished he could hide out in the lab down on the bottom floor of Jordan Industries; instead he was walking into a meeting with the board of directors, tasked with explaining the unexplainable—the arrest of his father, the founder of the company. Simon Jordan had been stealing from the company for years. Had he not been pushing the sale of Jordan Industries so hard, Erik may have never discovered his dad’s wrongdoing. The last thing Erik wanted was to see someone else run the company. It had always been a source of pride to be a member of the family who made women of color look more beautiful. When he found out the chemistry that went into creating makeup, he dove in feetfirst. Though he wasn’t an artist like his little brother, Logan, Erik knew he created masterpieces.
Times had changed and there were now multiple companies catering to black women when it came to makeup. Many times Erik and Simon bumped heads about Jordan Industries being behind the times. His father felt as if the company could just rest on its history, but Erik knew enough about marketing and social media to know that wasn’t going to work. People were beginning call their cosmetics “grandma makeup.”
Last year, though, Erik designed a line that brought the company into the twenty-first century. It had been one of the most profitable lines in recent history. When he’d approached his father about doing another line similar to that one, as well as some skin-care products, Simon said the money wasn’t there. Erik didn’t believe it, and as a board member, he started looking into the financial health of the company.
When he found two sets of books and unexplained losses, he took the information to the board. Once the investigation started, Simon called his son a traitor and told him they’d never be able to prove a thing. Erik had been smart enough to install cameras in his father’s office and caught him trying to destroy evidence two nights ago.
By the grace of God, Simon’s arrest hadn’t made headlines yet, but it was only a matter of time before the scandal was picked up by the media.
Heading into the building, Erik ignored the whispers about his father’s arrest. When the receptionist stopped him, Erik sighed. “Yes, Diane?”
“The board is in the main conference room.” She flipped her blond weave. “Now, I have a question.”
He eyed her and counted to five in his head. “What is it?”
“Are we going to shut down now that Mr. Jordan is in jail?”
“Tell everybody to calm down. We’re not shutting down, because one person doesn’t make this company.”
“Why do you think I’m—”
“Let’s not go there, okay.”
Diane grinned. Her reputation as an office gossip was well earned. Erik winked and smiled at her, then headed to the conference room, ready to pay for the sins of his father.
Standing outside the room, he gripped the door handle and counted to ten. He was going to miss working for JI. But he was sure the last thing the board wanted was a Jordan anywhere near the company.
The board actually applauded when Erik walked in to the conference room.
Chairman of the board Jack Taylor stood up and walked over to Erik. “Took some balls to stand up against your father and do the right thing.”
Erik shrugged. “I did what was right for the company. This is bigger than my father and my family.” He pointed around the room. “All of you and our stockholders deserve better.”
Louise Parker cleared her throat. “What you did had to have been hard. Even if it was the proper thing to do. But we need people in leadership positions who will make hard choices when those are the only choices to make. We’re going to be in that position real soon.”
“And people we can trust to restore our financial health.” Jack held up a copy of the true financial state of the company. “We don’t want to sell, but if we can’t turn things around, then we won’t have much of a choice.”
Erik gritted his teeth. Despite all their praise for him turning Simon in, he knew the next thing was probably going to be these people asking for his resignation. “When we start our national search for a new CEO, we need to make sure our new CEO is financially responsible and—”
“And we know you will be.” Jack smiled. “Erik, you have what it takes to save this company.”
“I make the products. I’m not—”
Graham Shaw raised his hand. “Jordans built this company, and to keep up appearances, we need a Jordan at the helm or our only choice will be to sell. Erik, I’m not trying to pressure you, but when the truth comes out about your father, we’re going to need some good PR.”
Erik knew Shaw was right. But he hadn’t wanted to be the man in charge. All he wanted to do was save the company and keep creating products that women loved. CEO? But if he had to do it to keep the company from being sold, then he would.
“We’ll make the announcement on the second of January. New Year, new direction,” Jack said with a nod.
“We haven’t voted yet or officially removed our current CEO.” Erik folded his arms across his broad chest.
“Erik, if we have any chance of saving this company, you are going to have to spearhead the charge. We took a straw vote and you’re in.” Jack leaned back on his heels. “Think about a new future, a new era for Jordan Industries.”
Erik sighed. He’d expected that he’d be giving his resignation, but he’d been promoted. Now he just had to figure out how he was going to save the company and his family.
* * *
Over the next two weeks, Erik realized that his PR team was underpaid. There had only been one news brief about Simon’s arrest. Granted, it was the holiday season and good news ruled the airwaves.
But there would be no merry Christmas for the Jordan family. When Erik finally spoke to his mother, she told him in no uncertain terms that neither he nor Logan were welcome in the house for the holiday.
“You’ve betrayed your father for a taste of power.”
“Dad brought this on himself.”
“You always thought you knew everything, son. I hope you know this little coup of yours won’t stand.” And with that she ended the call.
Seconds later, Logan called. “You talked to our mother?”
“Yeah. I’m a bastard and not welcome for Christmas.”
“Good, come to Paris. I have a show and Olivia’s coming . . .”
“Not a third wheel. Besides, this banishment will give me a chance to figure out how to bring the company back from the brink of destruction.”
“Ah, you’re going to be that guy.”
“What guy is that?”
“Mr. All Work, All the Time.”
“I don’t think so, but I can’t ignore the fucked-up situation Dad left the company in.”
“Rome wasn’t built on Christmas Day.”
“Well, this ain’t Rome.”
“All right, I’ll give you Christmas, but I’m hosting a New Year’s Eve gala in Atlanta and you have to be there or I’m going to kick your workaholic ass.”
Erik sighed. “First of all, you got one more time to threaten me. What’s up with all the parties, though?”
“Because life is a celebration. And I’m going to ask Olivia to marry me.”
Erik grunted. He hadn�
�t been a party boy for years. There was a time when he’d been photographed with some of the most beautiful women in the world and hunted supermodels for sport. Of course, it was all in fun and consensual. Erik loved photo shoots where he’d get to see his products on the most beautiful women in the world.
Some of them ended up smearing their makeup all over his thousand-thread-count Egyptian-cotton sheets.
For the most part, Erik had been satisfied with loving them and leaving them. No hurt feelings, no stalker chicks in the background. He even had a girl call him the real MVP once—most valuable penis. Not that he was looking to settle down and get married anytime soon; Erik was starting to enjoy the quiet life and the booty call on his terms.
Logan, on the other hand, was head over heels in love with this girlfriend and muse, Olivia Brown. Erik wasn’t big on romance, but Olivia and Logan were the kind of couple who inspired rom-com movies. If anyone had a soul mate, it was Logan. He and Olivia fit perfectly.
Erik didn’t see himself connecting with someone on that level. Love was more work than he planned to put in for something that might not last. “I’ll be there, only because you’re surprising Liv.”
“I guess I’ll accept that. And maybe Mom will come around when she realizes how wrong Dad is.”
Erik didn’t want to say it out loud, but what if their mother was involved too? “Maybe,” he said after a beat.
Logan muttered something in French and then told Erik he had to go. Closing his eyes, Erik knew things would get a whole lot worse before they got better.
Chapter 1
Ten!
Sylvie hated the countdown to a New Year. Especially in a crowd of couples. Everybody would be kissing in nine seconds and she was standing there with her third glass of champagne. Sylvie didn’t even like champagne, but as the room celebrated the engagement of her best friend, Olivia Brown, and her man, LJ, she had to drink the swill. The ballroom was buzzing with excitement, though. Everyone wanted a look at Olivia’s ring and the portrait LJ, a renowned artist who’d just finished a family portrait for the former first family, had painted of his future wife. It was beautiful. The night was romantic. Sylvie was bored.
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