Love after Betrayal: An Interracial, Billionaire Romance

by Black, Yuwanda

  "Nobody said Mr. Right Now has to be from the firm. I did cater-waiting in college. I happen to know from personal experience that there are some fine men behind the bar and lighting those pans of Bunsen burners, keeping the chicken cacciatore warm," Maya joked.

  "Surely you jest," Bria said in mock surprise. "Are you suggesting that I slum it with the help? I'm a partner now. I shall do no such thing."

  "A cocktail or two and avoiding one too many Viagra-sporting old coots will change your mind," Maya said.

  "Hmmm, I see your point. Then I shall head straight for the bar upon entrance," Bria declared, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

  The two women burst out laughing.

  Chapter 8

  BRIA LOOKED AROUND upon entering the large ballroom. A gentleman working the event greeted her at the door.

  "May I take your coat miss?"

  "Yes. Thank you." Bria let him slide her coat off of her shoulders. She felt air hit her bare back, making her aware – and a little self-conscious – of how naked she felt in the dress she'd chosen. At that moment, she wished she hadn't let Maya annoy her into impulsively choosing the garment. Normally, she would have gone for something much more conservative. She should have followed her mind, but too late now, she thought. She sucked in a breath and surveyed the elegant room, trying her best to relax before making her way to the bar through the crowd.

  A drink. It was just what she needed to steady her nerves. It had been a long time since she'd socialized on her own. Too long, she realized. Gunner had been at practically every major social event she'd attended in the last twenty years. Maybe Maya was right; maybe it was time she got back out there because right now she felt as nervous as a fourteen-year-old freshman at a brand new high school.

  Bria tried to relax as she continued to take in the festive scene. Twenty-foot, classically decorated Christmas tress stood in each corner of the room; their clear lights adding an ethereal presence to the sparkling ballroom. There were round tables placed strategically throughout with enough space between them for people to get up and mingle. The tablecloths were navy blue and cream, accented with tall, silver centerpieces. Nice touch, she mused. She hated centerpieces that obscured the view of others seated at the table. Whomever had created these got it just right down to the last detail.

  "Bria, my love! How are you?" a senior partner, arms outstretched, beamed as he came towards her. He was dressed in a very expensive tuxedo, cut perfectly to fit his thin, wiry frame. His stringy, silver hair with splotches of pink scalp peeking through was combed neatly away from his pinched face. His cheeks were rimmed in red, as were his eyes. Someone had definitely hit the eggnog bowl more than a time or two.

  Bria wasn't used to seeing him like that, so his enthusiasm at seeing her took her a little by surprise. She smiled inwardly, remembering Maya's comment about ‘Viagra-sporting old coots' earlier. He definitely qualified, she realized as she stifled a giggle. She stuck out a hand before he could engulf her in an uncomfortable hug.

  "Marcus," she greeted with a smile.

  "You look stunning, my girl. Absolutely stunning," he said, his eyes landing in the zone of her bosom.

  "As do you," she said, admiring his tux. His tailor was to be commended. The garment made him look elegant and refined. It almost masked his lasciviousness.

  "Marcus," a slightly shrill voice coming up behind him stated.

  Bria could have sworn she saw a scowl trip across the old man's face.

  "There you are. I was wondering where you got off to," the overly powdered woman said, examining Bria through slits that passed for eyes.

  Marcus turned. "Bria this is the better half," he explained, not even bothering to call her by name.

  "Pleased to meet you," Bria said, holding out her hand.

  The older woman barely touched the tips of her fingers. She turned her attention back to her husband. "Darling we're firming up plans for Aspen in a few weeks," she said, pointing to a group of four across the room. "You will excuse us," Marcus's wife said to Bria.

  "Of course," Bria said, almost having to cover her mouth to keep her suppressed giggle from escaping. She somehow knew that Marcus's wife had been running after him at events like this for decades – all in an effort to keep him for straying with the latest up-and-coming young legal professional; one who had no qualms about trading her favors to get what she wanted from a rich, powerful man like Marcus.

  Bria felt sorry for the older woman – and for herself. Honey, if they wanna stray, they're gonna stray, she wanted to tell the other woman. And it doesn't matter if you're young or old.

  Is this what it would have been like had she stayed with Gunner? Would she be chasing him around functions like this, like a yapping puppy nipping at his heels, trying to keep him loyal? Afraid to let him out of her sight? Looking at every female suspiciously? Bria shivered at the thought, and for the first time in a long time, didn't regret her divorce. She knew she couldn't live like that. So maybe Maya was right: getting back out there was the only thing to do. And here she was.

  Now about that drink, she thought, and determinedly made her way across the room to the bar.

  "The servers seem a little behind," a voice said behind her.

  Bria jumped.

  "Didn't mean to startle you," CJ Thurston, another senior partner said. "Just wanted to congratulate you on the work on the Stevenson case, and more importantly," he smiled, "let you know that there's another, less crowded bar at the back of the room."

  "Thank you, Mr. Thurston," Bria said.

  CJ ‘The Hammer' Thurston was the crème de la crème of environmental defense lawyers. At SLAW, he was practically a god. Bria had no idea that he even knew who she was.

  "Please call me CJ; none of this Mr. Thurston stuff."

  "Alright CJ," Bria said a bit shakily, holding out her hand. Not her type, but definitely not a Viagra-sporting old coot either, she thought as she smiled. "Thank you."

  "You're welcome. Enjoy the party," he said, holding up his drink in salute as he moved off to mingle with other new partners Bria surmised.

  This holiday party thing wasn't such a bad idea at all, Bria grinned as she headed to the back for the bar. CJ ‘The Hammer' Thurston knew who she was. She could barely believe it. She felt a little vindicated. She may have lost her marriage, but she'd made strides in her career.

  Spirits buoyed and nerves a little less frayed, Bria glanced at each table she passed, checking for her name on a place card so she'd know where her seat was when the speeches began. She stopped and looked around for a second. There was a smaller table in the front close to the stage. She wondered if that's where they put her along with the other newest partners so that they'd be front and center. Dear god she hoped not!

  She hated being the center of attention; hated it with a passion. She got a knot in her stomach at the mere possibility – a possibility that became all-too-real real when she spotted her name in perfect curly script on a silver-embossed place card. Dammit! Just when she thought she might enjoy herself at this shindig. All of a sudden, her enthusiasm sank like the Titanic, her blood turning to ice like a doomed passenger on the luxury liner. Now, all she wanted was to do was escape; to go back home, curl up in bed, put on her fuzzy pink socks and soak in her sorrows.

  "What can I get for you miss?" the bartender asked a few seconds later. Liquid courage. Exactly what the doctor ordered, she thought. The bartender cocked his eyebrows and widened his smile just enough to show his interest without breaking any professional rules.

  "Just a glass of white wine please," Bria smiled back, noting that Maya was right again. The bartender was very handsome – almost too handsome – but at twenty-six or twenty-seven at the most, too young for her. There was not an ounce of cougar in her. She preferred fully cooked, grown-ass men. And someone in their twenties, no matter how ‘on the ball' they were, would never cut it.

  As she turned from the bar, Bria felt the dark cloud that was ever-present these last ten months s
tart to descend again. She took a sip of her wine, hoping it had a sun cloud or two in it to brighten her mood. She was sick of this roller coaster of emotions she was on. If she didn't know there wasn't a shot in hell of it being true, she'd have sworn that she was pregnant. She was tingling with excitement one minute, and on the verge of tears the next.

  On the ride to the party, she had been alright. She'd just had a pep talk from Maya and felt hopeful. Entering the festivities, she'd gotten rid of one old coot and gotten kudos from a powerful partner on her work. Things were looking up.

  With the coming spotlight on new partners, she felt heavy and alone. She couldn't help regretting that Gunner wasn't there to celebrate her success with her. And to top it off, plenty of her co-workers knew she was married, but might not know she was now divorced, as she didn't talk about her personal life at work. One thing she loved about working for a large firm was that you could disappear into your work if you wanted. And disappear she did. She barely kept track of the days of the week, never mind water-cooler gossip.

  All of this made her wonder how she was going to handle the "Where's your better half?" question when she ran into it. Normally, Gunner was right by her side, taking pride in her success and making contacts of his own for his construction business. It had been a perfect partnership on so many levels. She hated him for doing this to them; for killing everything they had built together. Every little social grace – good or bad – she now had to learn to navigate alone.

  You have to learn how to be single, Maya had said to her once. Tonight brought that into full focus. That had never been part of her plan; their plan.

  Bria took another sip of her wine; more like a gulp. She needed to loosen up, and the faster the better. She was here, she wanted to try to have some semblance of a good time dammit.

  Her eyes scanned the room again, stopping on the people she knew. She felt the wine relaxing her jingling nerves. It gave her the courage to start moving fluidly through the room, stopping here and there to speak to colleagues she knew, and accept introductions to those she didn't.

  She made her way to her seat and settled next to Teddy Wilkins, a fellow, newly minted partner. Teddy was as big and round as a grizzly bear, and always a barrel of laughs. He could steal the spotlight from anyone. She was glad he was her seat mate. He greeted her with a wide a smile, but didn't have a chance to launch into one of his hilarious tirades because Andrew Wasserman, one of the founders of the firm, promptly took the stage to officially begin the recognition portion of the evening’s festivities.

  Bria had never formally met any of SLAW's founders, but she – and every other attorney in the 800-plus member firm – knew who they were. And the "W" in the firm’s name was standing mere feet from her now.

  Mr. Wasserman looked to be pushing eighty. Despite his age though, he had a head full of hair, white and combed neatly to the side. His manner was open, friendly and youthful. He even managed to work the currently hot slang phrase of ‘Bye Felicia' into his opening monologue. Bria, along with the rest of the room, laughed so hard that she forgot what he was talking about. What eighty-year-old founder of a blue-blood law firm did that?! Nope, Mr. Wasserman definitely didn't fit the picture she had in her head – at all.

  Mr. Wasserman was in the middle of a story about how the firm started when Bria finally corralled her laughter enough to refocus her attention. As Mr. Wasserman continued to speak, the wait staff began to serve the first course of the meal. There was a buffet table set up with finger foods, but the main courses were served to each table. SLAW never spared any expense on its events – whether it was for employees, or potential clients.

  Bria smiled to herself. That's why she could bill almost $500 per hour. She looked across the room at The Founder's Table, which contained seating for eight. She only saw two other men, both as old as Mr. Wasserman. They were two of the four whose last names contributed to the SLAW acronym. She wondered where the fourth founder was.

  A polite round of applause signaled the end of Mr. Wasserman's speech. He informed the room that there would be a half-hour intermission of sorts for them to enjoy their dinner before more speeches resumed. As he exited the stage, a server set a steaming bowl of soup in front of Bria. It smelled rich and flavorful, but she had no appetite. Feeling like she was suffocating, she muttered an ‘Excuse me' to her table mates and exited the room.

  Bria felt lighter immediately upon stepping out onto the smaller, covered patio off the huge ballroom. She knew a large part of the stifled feeling that engulfed her was because she was alone at this event. The effort to appear happy and cheerful had begun to overwhelm. Away from the prying eyes of the crowded ballroom, she felt freer to let her eyes glisten with misery, without fear of someone spotting it and whispering about it behind her back.

  All over again, she hated herself for letting Maya talk her into coming. She'd been kidding herself that she would enjoy the festivities; putting herself back out there, as Maya constantly called it. And she most especially couldn't fathom meeting someone who'd interest her, never mind interest her enough to have a fling. She must've taken a stupid pill to let herself even consider anything Maya said, as good as her intentions were.

  Bria scanned the room from her perch on the enclosed patio. There wasn't a man there she'd seen thus far that she was even remotely interested in. At that suited her just fine, as the last thing she needed was an office fling ... if she was even gonna have a fling.

  FINALLY FEELING COMPOSED enough to continue the evening, Bria found the ladies room. It was large and bright and modern, with a sitting area set up away from the stalls. A very long and large mirror spread across the entire expanse of the bathroom. She went to stand in front of it. Did her eyes really look that puffy? Had her mouth been this turned down the entire time? Was her misery as evident to everyone else as it was to her?

  While she may not have been meant to be single, she sure as hell wasn't in any state to meet anyone either, even if it was just casual. Her mind was so messed up she'd scare off any prospect within thirty seconds.

  Bria sighed. She couldn't leave now, as she was sorely tempted to. It wouldn't be proper to exit so soon, especially as she was one of the guests of honor. She took a deep breath and smoothed her hand over the sleek, low ponytail she was wearing. She pinched her cheeks to give them more color and applied a fresh coat of lipstick. As satisfied as she was going to be with her appearance, she turned away from her reflection. She resolved to make the best of a bad situation, as women have been doing since the beginning of time.

  Bria forced her lips upward into a semblance of a smile. She reminded herself that her ex-husband was probably somewhere celebrating the holidays with his daughter and his baby mama, as she always referred to the woman who'd contributed to the breakup of her marriage. Whatever he was doing now, he most definitely was not thinking about her, a voice in her head said.

  The realization angered her. Bria closed one hand tighter around her silver beaded clutch, and almost stomped out of the restroom. Gunner Michaels had stolen too much from her. She wouldn't let him steal this evening. She would not! she repeated silently as she left the ladies room.

  "Whoa, should I call the fire department?" a husky baritone said.

  Bria's head swiveled up. "Excuse me?"

  "The way you almost ran me over, I figured there must be a fire in there," the too-handsome stranger with the forest-green eyes explained.

  "I'm sorry," Bria apologized.

  "I'm not," he returned brazenly, those hypnotic eyes sliding over her in slow-moving inches.

  Bria felt exposed, as if those orbs were gifted with lasers and they could see every part of her. She blushed as he continued to stare.

  "I ... uh uhm ... I was just headed to the bar."

  "What a coincidence. So was I?" he said, his gaze never leaving her.

  "Do you always stare so intently at strangers?" she couldn't stop herself from asking. If she wasn't so mesmerized, the way he looked at her would have se
emed almost barbaric.

  "When I see something – or someone – I like, yes, I do tend to focus intently. It's an awful habit; one I have no desire to break," he said boldly.

  Bria's knees actually buckled a little. For all that is mighty and right in the world, where did the creator come up with a smile like that?! The fact that a slight scar marred the right side of his otherwise too-perfect lips only added to his handsomeness – which was so severely understated with the way he actually looked that it was almost a crime to describe him as such. His nose was straight and perfectly centered. His eyes were framed by thick, dark lashes that matched the slicked-back thickness of the mass of hair on his head.

  "Do you ever get sick of these things?" he asked as they entered the full fray of the ballroom. The words were almost melodic in his low, deep voice. He smirked at her through full, pink lips.

  Damn, he was some kind of gorgeous!

  Bria found herself cursing Maya as she remembered the advice her friend had given her about getting over a broken heart.

  "THE BEST WAY TO GET over one man is to find another."

  "Really Maya. That is so high school. Grown women don't act like that."

  "Grown women are just little girls in big girl bodies. Honey, if the right piece of fine floats before you, trust me, you'll find it hard to remember Gunner's name."

  "And you're speaking from experience, I presume?"

  "How do you think I got over Charles so quick?"

  "You still love Charles," Bria insisted.

  "I love what we had. But it had run its course, so it was time to move on. And move on I did, did I not?"

  "Yeah, too quickly in my opinion."

  "Well it's a good thing I never asked your opinion now ain't it?"

  "Well Dexter is fine, I'll give you that," Bria said, thinking of Maya's current boyfriend. "I'll give you that two times over. He is fine as hell!"

  "Charles who?" Maya said, and burst out laughing.