Chante wished she had her grandmother’s fearless nature. She knew for a fact that Elsie Mae would’ve started her own firm without giving it a second thought. Her grandmother wouldn’t have taken all the grief she’d subjected herself to for that partnership. Part of her knew she’d be fine if she struck out on her own. She had a huge client base, and she was a proven winner who’d made millions for her clients. But she was afraid. Afraid that if she failed, her mother would lord it over her, just as she’d always done with the fact that she isn’t married.
As if that was the only thing she was supposed to do with her life. Rolling her eyes at the ringing phone, Chante hit the IGNORE button on another unknown call, then shut the phone off.
When she received Liza’s e-mail with her statement and a list of contacts to send it to, Chante was ready to pound the pavement and Robert’s face. Lacing up her sneakers and popping her ear buds in, she opened the front door and was blinded by flashbulbs.
“What the . . . ?”
“Ms. Britt, have you forgiven Robert?”
“When is the wedding?”
“Will Senator and Mrs. Franklin be there? Have all of you kissed and made up after such an ugly election cycle?”
“Get off my doorstep!” Chante exclaimed. When the members of the media took a step back, she thought they had heeded her demand. That was until she saw Robert walking her way. Narrowing her eyes at him, all she could think was that the media had just saved his life.
“Chante, darling, I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he said with a huge smile on his face. She watched in abject horror as he walked up the steps and stood in her face.
“You son of a . . .”
Robert wrapped his arms around her and attempted to kiss her. Chante kneed him in the family jewels before storming into her house and slamming the door. All she could hope was that the cameras had caught every minute of it. One thing was for certain: she wasn’t going to stick around to be harassed by the media or Robert freaking Montgomery!
* * *
Zach Harrington downed a mojito as if it was a glass of water while he sat on the white shores of Folly Beach. It felt good to be an anonymous man in the crowd. In South Carolina, he was just a man on the beach. Back in New York, he was the ex-husband of the “Harlem Madame.” Just thinking about the moniker the media had given his ex-wife made him cringe. And the circus! Cameras followed him around the city and camped out at his office building and his temporary home.
He couldn’t even meet with the Crawfords about a tract of land they wanted to purchase in Manhattan for new office space. He was sure that Solomon and Richmond Crawford wouldn’t want to be photographed outside his office after what their family had gone through in the media lately. Solomon and Richmond had discovered that their father, Elliot, had a son—Adrian Bryant—before his death. Adrian had taken the story to the media around the same time that Richmond had been arrested in Los Angeles for solicitation of sex.
Then there had been Richmond’s messy divorce. The businessman in Zach knew that any partnership they’d enter into right now would be a disaster. And he hadn’t told the Crawfords that he and Adrian had been friends long before the scandal broke.
Just thinking about the media circus and the money it was costing him made him crave something stronger than a sweet rum highball. When he’d filed for divorce from his wife, Natalie, he thought she’d been having an affair. He had no clue that she was running an escort service from their home on Long Island. It had taken three months for him to clear his name and prove to the district attorney that he didn’t have anything to do with Natalie’s illegal empire.
She’d been clearing about a million dollars a year. At least she was sleazy enough to hide the money in an account that had nothing to do with his business or their personal accounts. Shaking his head, Zach brought himself back to what was in front of him: a beautiful shoreline, women in barely there bikinis, and the blazing southern sun.
Digging his toes into the warm sand, Zach tugged at his Brooklyn Nets ball cap and grinned. For the next seven days or more, he was going to be anyone he wanted to be, without worrying about the glare of the New York media. Just as he was about to close his eyes, his cell phone vibrated in his pocket. Grabbing it, he smiled when he saw it was his assistant, Kia Clarke.
“What’s up, Special K?”
“Your final divorce decree just arrived. You are officially unattached.”
“Been unattached. I’m just glad the state has approved it,” he said. “Have the reporters stopped calling yet?”
Kia sighed. “You haven’t heard the latest?”
“I’ve been listening to ocean waves. Do I even want to know?”
“She claims there’s a black book and you know where it is. We’ve had a few agents stop by the office, but I told them that without a warrant they couldn’t come in. And three more clients have dropped us.”
Zach muttered curses that caused a few people to give him the side eye. “Why does she keep tarnishing my name?”
“She doesn’t want to let you go, and she isn’t trying to go down without taking a lot of innocent people with her. I’ve never liked Ms. Shady Boots, and I told you that from the beginning.”
“I wish I’d seen her true colors years ago,” he said, then expelled a sigh.
“Tried to warn you, boss. But you were blinded by something else.”
“Don’t remind me. How’s the baby?”
“Still baking. I’m two weeks overdue, and Dave is stressing me out. That’s why I came into the office today.”
“Please don’t give birth in my office,” he quipped. “I’m so happy for you and Dave. I wish I could be there to celebrate with you guys.”
“Zach, I’m not mad at you for staying away and getting your head together. And why not have some fun while you’re out there?”
“That’s my plan. When I come back to New York, hopefully this news cycle will be over and I can get back to my business and spoiling my godson.”
“Excuse you, I’m having a daughter. So, you better get some of the southern girly-girl stuff while you’re in Charleston.”
“I’m bringing football helmets and shoulder pads,” he said with a laugh.
“Anyway. Unless anything major happens, the next time you hear from me, I’ll be calling with the news of your goddaughter’s entrance into the world,” Kia said.
When they said good-bye, Zach turned his phone off, leaned back in his lounge chair, and closed his eyes. The warmth of the sun did little to ease the chill he felt creeping up his spine. Even though he’d divorced his criminal wife and had had nothing to do with her sex peddling, his boutique real estate firm was suffering. A couple of clients had taken their business elsewhere, costing him fifteen million dollars. The loss hurt, but his company was strong—for now. If he kept losing the big clients, then he would be hurting, as well as his employees.
Part of him wanted to push Natalie into the Hudson River with a hundred pounds of weights attached to her Louboutins. But he was nonviolent, and he just planned to let everything blow over. He was going to have to diversify, and maybe he would find a great investment down south that would make up for his losses. Down here, he wouldn’t be cast as the husband of the “Harlem Madame.” He could create a southern branch of his business, buy some cheap land, and turn it into gold. After all, he knew his Midas touch was still intact. At least, he hoped so.
Groaning, Zach decided it was time for another drink and some more girl watching.
Deadly Rumors Page 29