You're Not Alone: BWWM Romance (Brothers From Money Book 17)

by Shanade White

  Heading a committee for Tabletop that did nothing but occupy the wives of the older board members, she would accept no less than a VIP invitation to this event. Richard had no partner to bring so she was his plus one.

  Dodging the women whispering in his direction, he glanced back at the valet driving away the Hummer, straightened his fitted black jacket he went inside the stately building. The house was close to ancient and chosen because if its history.

  It was the home of legendary Bill Masters, the first corporate giant to speak out about environmental concerns and offered his company as the martyr for the concern of a better world. Dissecting it and then reconstructing the mills he owned one at a time, Masters had survived the almost total devaluation of his entire stock. In the end, those who bailed out when he needed them most were forever sorry that they didn’t keep their investments with him.

  The company rose to the helm once again, stronger than before and Bill retained all of his shares. A new bar was set for the manufacturing sector and a bruised Bill went after each company ignoring the new environmental laws with a vengeance not seen since.

  The foyer was well lit and the light dazzled on the sequins and shiny earrings of the women and bounced off the glass of the expensive watches of the wealthy men. Richard felt alone. As he searched the crowd for his miserable mother, he laughed. Mr. Richard Damask- net worth in the billions, handsome, articulate and single. Nature could be so cruel.

  *****

  Shelly called Kimberly as she was exploring the drawers of her desk. How could something made from an artificial substance resemble wood so closely? The phone rang and she cleared her throat as she answered the very first external call on her sleek new phone with the touch screen keypad. Kimberly’s very own private secretary announced the call and in her most professional tone she answered.

  “Good day, this is Kimberly Walsh. How can I be of assistance today?”

  “Hi Kim it's Shelly. How are you settling in?”

  Kimberly was aware of the glowing comments she dropped in the reference call from the HR Manager and sensed that Shelly was crossing the circle from a professional acquaintance to friend. The warmth of Shelly’s voice indicated likewise.

  “I am doing great Shelly. The place stands on good moral ground and the workload is, thankfully, enough for one person. I can finally find something to do with my spare time.”

  “That’s so nice to hear Kimberly. You are an intelligent woman and I know you will fit in nicely there. Funny that you should mention spare time... I have an invitation to a black tie event tonight and because you have moved to a place with a little more soul than the God forsaken Goldman & Parks, I thought it would be nice for you to attend. The Coalition of Business Environmental Protection hosts this shindig for all the manufacturers. It would be a good place for you to rub shoulders with the other people in your new industry. I didn’t invite my husband yet in case you accept. What do you say?”

  New job, new attitude. Kimberly had a list that included getting a social life. It wasn’t exactly a club scene, but it was an outing that would let her relax and still be in a professional mode at the same time. Did she have an outfit for such an affair? Yes she did-or at least she would get one.

  “You know what Shelly, I would love to. I haven’t been anywhere but to yoga, in ages and it would be good to rub shoulders with rich and famous.”

  “I am so surprised you said yes! Don’t let me ruin this moment in case it’s not real.”

  Both women laughed at Kimberly’s social immaturity and made the final plans.

  “Ok, the dinner is being held at Bill Masters’s estate on the edge of town. You get to it just before the lake where they do boat racing on Sundays. Are you familiar with it?”

  Kimberly said yes, but in actuality she only knew it was south of her street. The GPS in her car would have to do the rest. Shelly never detected the lie and continued.

  “Dinner is being served at seven thirty but you are expected to be there by seven. I will try to meet you at the door, but I will call the organizer now and have your name added to the list. I am on a minor committee so I am shrimp compared to the big wigs in attendance. None the less, we can pretend to be important while we mingle.”

  Like school girls they giggled again and then quickly said goodbye. Kimberly wondered if Richard had received such an invitation, but declined to ask when he popped his head in to check on her before heading out.

  Richard was always looking in on her. He never made any off putting comments or made her feel uncomfortable in his presence, but there was something about him that she couldn’t put her finger on.

  In his office, she caught him staring, but she didn’t mention anything about it. The bull dog she was raised to be, would have called him out on being rude or sexually suggestive, but there was nothing creepy about Richard. Instead, Kimberly sensed sadness that ran deep and felt more sympathy than anything else in his presence.

  Truthfully, she found him handsome. Dating in her life had come to an end just after she started working at the law firm because there simply had been no time. On the rare occasions she did go out, it was within her own race and for a moment, she wondered about adding some vanilla to her usual morning coffee as she stirred it with a dainty little spoon. Given to her by Auntie when Kimberly went off to conquer the world, she took the gift with her everywhere.

  Born without a silver spoon in her mouth, Kimberly struggled to keep her head above the water with only her nostrils sticking out. When she got the scholarship to law school and then answered the call to The Bar, Auntie gave her the spoon in a small velvet box with bronze corners and an antique clasp.

  With the words, “Be blessed child,” engraved on the slender stem of the spoon, Kimberly used it daily as a reminder of how much easier life was now that she actually had something to stir.

  The days at Tabletop passed quickly and today was no different. By 4:30 she was home considering what exactly one wore to an exclusive event with rich people who had large amounts to spend on a wardrobe. Admittedly, Kimberly was a disciplined spender who budgeted to the penny. Though she had a nice little nest egg and a few minor investments here and there, she rarely splurged. The high rise apartment was her largest overhead. Justified by the memories of cold nights with her mother and cheap second hand furniture, Kimberly insisted that her living conditions be comfortable and even a little indulgent.

  She loved art and hated clutter. For this reason the spacious two bedroom apartment was decorated in a contemporary black and white with pops of color punctuating the décor. An aged portrait of Diana Ross hung on the main wall behind the three seater, and the music theme continued throughout the modern home.

  The definite reminder that her past was ever present in all that Kimberly did, was her bedroom. Breaking the color scheme, it was a girl’s room. Pinks, lilacs, purples and powder blues made the landscape of her sanctuary and it was her secret treasure. As a girl, she longed for one of the dream bedrooms displayed in the random flyer ads dropped in her absent mother’s mailbox.

  A canopy bed in the middle and a small vanity on the wall were the center of Kimberly’s pride. She did her makeup every morning sitting on the upholstered stool, occasionally wondering if she could be any more favored by the spirits that had once taken her life on such a rough path.

  The closet was walk in, but not filled with expensive clothes. Instead, Kimberly chose to fill it with sale items from sample sites. Every morning around nine, an email was sent to her inbox and inside she would find Italian and other international brands at sometimes as much as eighty percent off.

  The right of the closet was more cramped and reserved for business attire. The scant left side spoke to her lack of a social life as fewer than ten outfits hung from felted hangers. Still, there were options.

  Thumbing through the limited choices, Kimberly arrived at a salmon colored gown. Small waves of almost transparent fabric, cut on the bias, flowed down from her hips, the dress barely swept
the floor. A bib like bodice covered her breasts. Suspended by thin straps over her slender shoulders, it gave the illusion of a full dress, but the back revealed flesh from neck to lower back. No bra could be worn with this dress.

  Kimberly’s ass had developed even more after the yoga sessions became a staple. Secretly, she hoped not to be judged as lewd for her figure in such a dress, but the decision to wear it was already made. To reassure herself further, Kimberly repeated her new motto, “new job, new attitude.”

  *****

  Diamantes on her heeled sandals sparkled as Kimberly placed her first leg on the paved driveway of the Bill Masters Estate. The breeze was cool and the decorative shawl on her shoulders added no protection. She would hand it to the attendant inside where it was sure to be warmer.

  Maybe it was apparent to others that she was not from money, maybe it wasn’t. Kimberly stared at the magnificent construction before her nonetheless. Vines added a distinct vintage look to the well kept building and only the cars moving up and down the drive way gave any indication that this was 2015. Slowly, Kimberly ascended the stairs, clinging to the aged wrought iron banisters while gripping the dress and appearing very lady like. As promised, her name was by the door, but finding the illusive Shelly would prove to be a task among the over two hundred and fifty folks mulling around before dinner was announced.

  People were staring, unbeknownst to Kimberly. She was busy chatting with an old college mate who intercepted her search for Shelly. Ronald was now the president of a small fortune five hundred company and was pleased to see her.

  “Kimberly! It’s been forever since I saw you last. Oh my God! How have you been?”

  “Ronald? I can’t believe it! I’m great… I really am!”

  The usually silent competition that took place between long lost acquaintances started. Where do you work? Who do you know? Husband? Children?

  The last two inquiries meant different things coming from a man than a woman. With a female she would be measuring the status of another’s womanhood with that question. Coming from a man it meant, are you available to sleep with me?

  For most, the answer would have been yes because Ronald was handsome. His skin was a delicious brown and his eyes appeared to give him a depth of character that would be attractive to an intellectual lady. The dollars in his bank account and the Mercedes he drove would have added the superficial and simplistic women to the pool.

  The conversation deepened and two of the few black faces in the place went to the corner to catch up. Kimberly’s freshly curled tresses bounced as she laughed at the jokes of the man towering over her. Her painted lips parted with appreciative smiles of the glowing compliments her companion was dealing out. The evening was turning out better than she anticipated.

  *****

  Lena was quipping about the quality of the champagne being served and Richard was tired. Males should not be seen in public with their mothers at social events past the age of fifteen, Richard lamented internally. There was no question in his mind as to why his father left her. The alimony was enough to keep Lena happy and buy dad peace of mind as he frolicked in the sunshine of the Caribbean. Old white wives could be so boring.

  A tall blonde had interrupted Richards scowl at Lena as she tossed a miniature kebab back into the silver tray of a server with words about missing salt and pepper. The poor girl was not the chef and could do nothing but drop her head and return to the kitchen.

  The blonde was invading Richard’s personal space. Alissa, she said her name was, and her Daddy was Pierce Angelo. He owned a recycling center and paper mill in the south and was dripping with money. The drippings extended to his daughter’s neck. Alissa’s throat was heavy with rare gems and while wanting to appear regal, she looked strained under the weight of her own wealth.

  Tilting, Richard tried to play the bachelor game and whispered in her ear. It wasn’t a joke, it was a question, but Alissa laughed anyway and he immediately knew that any treasures she possessed didn’t extend past the exterior.

  Lena was not such an excellent judge of character and lunged at the opportunity to change her lonely, divorced son’s status from single to taken. Interviewing the girl replaced any desire Lena had to yell at the staff, and soon Richard became ignored by both women.

  Taking the opportunity to wander off, he rested assured that mother dearest would return with a passing verdict on Alissa and press for a date. It would never happen.

  Mulling through the crowd and shaking hands with the other industry players, Richard pretended to be good at socializing. Jared Simmons had an unassuming name but packed a punch in the financial area. They were discussing the stock market when heads began to turn. Both men and women alike stared at a passing person, but Richard couldn’t see. A very tall black man was shielding the subject of everyone’s curiosity.

  Lena had found herself at Richard's side again and of course, tried to deliver a report on the girl with the decorated throat. Calling his name repeatedly, she realized that he was craning his neck to see something she could not. Old and aggressive, Lena had no time to gawk from afar. On her trod forward, the black man shifted to the corner, holding the elbow of the woman everyone seemed fixated on.

  As the ass came into view and then a naked back covered in brown skin, Richard's mother stopped in her tracks and followed his intense gaze. “Kimberly?” His lips said, and his face scrunched up with confusion and excitement balled into one. Were his eyes deceiving him or was she really there in a dress that made his and every other man’s blood race? As he stepped forward slowly, ignoring his still talking friend, his mother looked back and forth, connecting the dots. Taking a long stemmed flute from a passing server, she shook her head and sipped viciously. There was going to be a problem.

  Chapter 4

  This is nice, Kimberly thought, socializing and chatting with an actual man. Yes, this was definitely nice. Roland was a talker and he had much to share. He was on to the messy divorce with his wife Sondra, who Kimberly also knew, when an equally tall figure emerged behind him. Admiring the dress of the girl he approached with, Kimberly was unaware of Richard’s presence until his smooth voice said, “Excuse me for interrupting, but I thought I saw someone here that I knew.” Roland was not the rude type and genuinely glanced around for who he might mean, totally oblivious that the subject of Richard’s search was Kimberly.

  Richard had watched her for what seemed to be an eternity before he walked over. As if possible, she looked even more stunning than her daytime splendor and by God was her figure epic.

  The ringlets of curls made Kimberly appear youthful and innocent but her body was that of a developed woman-in every way. Pouting lips were exaggerated with the deep plum lip color she wore and whatever she added to her eyes made them appear to be as black and mysterious as midnight itself. He wasn’t aware that he was gawking until his mother’s incessant voice barged through his thoughts. The old woman was his mother, but she wasn’t dying or ill. Whatever her latest tirade was about could wait. Kimberly was here.

  Richard was convinced that he was having a TV slow motion moment where all the activity in the room ceased, and everyone but Kimberly stood on suspended animation. The way she touched her chest as she paid a compliment to the girl next to her, and the way she laughed graciously as they exchanged comments, was timeless. In a second, he was expecting the soundtrack from an old soap opera to strum in the background.

  “Richard?” Kimberly asked, looking up at the sound of his rich baritone. “What a surprise to find you here!”

  “No,” Richard said, “I am the one who is surprised!”

  Ronald had allowed Richard to interject in his conversation and unfortunately for him, Kimberly would now be occupied for the rest of the night.

  “If I knew you were coming here I would have escorted you.” Richard said. In her usual assertive manner.

  Kimberly replied, “That’s fine Richard, I am a big girl, I can escort myself.”

  She flashed a grin and R
ichard’s heart turned to mush. The butterflies in his stomach were feasting on it. What was she doing? Would this appear unprofessional? He thought. Yes, it was a social outing, but still things could be misinterpreted for something else if the hound dog reporters picked up a scent. Richard was unsure if he cared.

  The Chef appeared from the back of the large dining room to announce that dinner would be served momentarily. Again, clasping her hand over her chest in that gentle way only she could, Kimberly was suddenly concerned that she didn’t know the seating arrangements. Better informed guests were moving to their tables and she stood still.

  “Kimberly,” Richard said, above the din of pulling chairs and shuffling feet. “Would you like to sit at my table?”

  “I don’t know if it works like that boss. It seems everyone knows where to go except me.”

  Authoritatively, he took her hand and said, “Come with me.”

  If sparks could have flown from the electricity that the two connecting palms ignited, it would have created a brilliant firework show. Both aware of the heat, Kimberly and Richard hesitated momentarily, knowing that this was quickly becoming more than a boss-employee situation.

  Stalking past Lena, who stood with her mouth open, Richard pulled out a chair and seated Kimberly to his left and then took his rightful place at the head of the table. Tabletop made hefty donations to many environmental committees represented here. He would have whoever he pleased at his table.

  Mother dearest was the one who made the ruckus, and anyone would have sworn she was an organizer of the event. With her deceptively sweet smile she walked over to the pair who had just begun whispering to each other and cleared her throat.

  Richard looked up from his important conversation as though agitated by the intrusion, and cocked his ear to his mother while the girl with the overly decorated neck stood behind her.