Any Man I Want

by Michele Grant

  We all groaned. “What about her?” Belle asked with a frown.

  “In addition to her public relations firm, she contributes to an online magazine about beauty and fashion.”

  “Okay . . .” I prompted.

  “Her article from last night is being picked up by the major media outlets.”

  “Danila, you don’t have to ease us into it. Just speak it plain,” Beau coaxed her.

  “Okay, in the article she talks about how the Montgomerys are sexual predators.”

  “What?” Belle shrieked.

  “She said Roman corrupted Jewel, Beau seduced and discarded her, and Katrina only got and kept the Royal Mahogany campaigns because she was sleeping with the CEO.”

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Beau cursed.

  “The bad thing is, she does have people that corroborate her relationship with Beau. She says he sponged off of her until he got what he wanted and then moved on. Also, the CEO of Royal Mahogany is going through a divorce. His wife is claiming infidelity, but the other person wasn’t named.”

  “Madison Archeneaux is sixty years old. I mean, seriously? Renee tied together a bunch of unrelated speculative half-truths and called it fact,” I complained.

  “Of course it is, but when you put it all together, there’s enough smoke that it looks pretty flammable.”

  “That vindictive bitch,” Belle ground out.

  I punched on my speakerphone and hit speed-dial eight. Before he could say anything I told him, “You’re on speaker.”

  “Hey Kitty,” Carter answered.

  “C—it’s bad,” I warned.

  “Okay.” He reacted calmly.

  I ran down the latest for him. He was silent for a minute.

  “Okay. Is there anything else?” He waited.

  “Well, Belle might be pregnant,” I volunteered to lighten the mood.

  “I have no idea what to do with that right now,” Carter said in confusion.

  “Neither do I, bro. Neither do I,” Beau spoke up.

  Exhaling heavily, Carter announced, “Here’s what we’re going to do. We’ve played nice and we’ve tried to do this politely, but it’s time to shut all of this down and pull out the big guns.”

  “We have big guns?” I asked curiously.

  “We do. Beau, call Roman and meet me at Granddad’s spot. Ladies, we got this.” Beau got up, pulled his cell out of his pocket, and headed for the door without a backward glance. Belle, Danila, and I exchanged astounded glances. What the hell?

  “I beg your pardon?” My voice went up incredulously.

  “Yeah, um—what just happened here?” Belle queried with a lift of her brow.

  “Ladies,” Carter explained, “I’m not being a chauvinist. I promise I’m not. This just makes sense. BellaRich is your company. Your names are on the masthead. You need plausible deniability. The less you know about how we’re about to fix this, the better.”

  “It’s legal though, right? You all aren’t going to go all wannabe GI Joe–black ops, right?” Belle asked nervously.

  Carter laughed. “You shouldn’t need bail money.”

  I didn’t know about this. I was the target here and there was no way I was good with sitting on my hands daintily while the big, strong men rode in to save the day. “I don’t think I’m okay with this. I’m used to fixing my own messes. If something needs doing, just tell me what you think I should do and I’ll handle it for myself,” I argued.

  “Not this time, Kit-Kat.”

  “Carter . . .” I was deciding how much of a protest I wanted to make when he cut me off.

  “Audelia Katrina,” he said sternly in a voice he generally reserved for our private time. “I said I got this. I. Got. This.”

  Belle and Danila froze and waited for my reaction. Everything I’d worked for—my family name, my future in this business—it was all on the line. I was supposed to put the fate of everything I was into Carter’s hands? I rocked back in my chair and thought about it. This was it. Make or break. Trust or not trust. Cut or run. Forward or back. Concede or fight.

  “K,” he snapped, waiting for my response.

  I looked over at Belle and a smile spread across her face. She leaned back and put her feet up on the coffee table, crossing her fingers together and resting them on her stomach. Her whole expression asked, What are you going to do about this? I glanced at Danila, who cleared her throat, covered her growing grin with her hand, and tipped on out the office door.

  Like it or not, he could handle it. He had a point: I didn’t have to be in. It was probably best if I wasn’t. I closed my eyes with a sigh. “Fine.”

  “Fine?” he repeated.

  “Fine. You can handle it,” I conceded grudgingly.

  “That’s so kind of you to allow me to do so,” he bit out. “We’ll discuss this at home later. You can bet on that.” The call dropped abruptly.

  He was pissed. “Oh, damn.”

  “Girlie, you in trouble,” Belle said.

  “Don’t I know it.” I kept putting the wrong foot forward where this man was concerned.

  “Sugar, when a man like Carter Parks says he got you? Let him have you, okay?”

  “C’mon, Belle.” I tried to get her to see my point of view. “You know how it is. Before you had Beau, weren’t you used to handling things for yourself? Would you be okay with some random guy stepping in and taking over?”

  “I don’t miss my days before Beau.” She looked at me in confusion. “And what are you doing calling Carter Parks some random guy? Even if you haven’t all but moved in with him, he’s Beau’s best friend and he’s been a good friend to you for years.”

  I sighed again. “I know. I’m just . . . stuff is moving too fast, too many things going on.”

  She continued to glower at me and I felt about two feet tall.

  “I was so happy this morning. I thought we’d turned the corner on all of this scandalous crap. I was feeling optimistic and just generally . . . good. I felt good. Carter and I had this incredible morning,” I reminisced.

  “Do tell?” She leaned forward.

  I flushed. “Oh my God, he took these scarves and . . .” I paused. “You know what? Never mind. I’m going to have to keep some things private.”

  “Out of respect for Carter?” She quirked a brow.

  I nodded. “Out of respect for Carter and our relationship.” It didn’t feel right sharing every intimate detail. What Carter and I did together was our business and no one else’s.

  “See what you did right there?”

  She lost me. “What did I do?”

  “Just then, you put the sanctity of your relationship with Carter over some hot gossip between girls. You and I have shared plenty of girl talk over the years.”

  “Yeah, until you started doing my brother. Took all the fun out of it.”

  She smirked. “For you, maybe. My point is, what you and Carter have is special. Now before I continue lecturing you on the error of your ways, I’m going to say one more inappropriate thing.”

  “Go ahead.” She was going to say it anyway.

  “That voice Carter used when he said your full name? Sugar! Panty-melting.” Belle fanned her face with her hands.

  “I know, right? He’s so damn easygoing most of the time, but when he uses that voice and gets all strong . . . Woo. It just sends me.” I absolutely loved it when Carter went all alpha male, though I never would’ve known what a turn-on that was if he hadn’t done it so well. Both in and out of bed, the fact that he was so strong gave me the freedom to just be. It was nice not to have to take the wheel and steer. In thinking that, I just realized why I gave them such a hard time about fixing this for me. I guess I was a little conflicted.

  When you are used to driving, sometimes it’s hard to sit in the passenger seat. And doubly hard not to navigate while sitting there. But for a man the likes of Carter, I’d figure it out. He was not a man who liked to be doubted.

  “Um. Um. Um. Carter Parks, who woulda thunk it?
”

  My cell phone beeped and I looked down at the display. I waved Belle over to the desk and answered. “Hey, Jewel.”

  “Hey. What’s this macho bullshit the boys are pulling?”

  “I don’t know. Something about shutting it down and big guns,” I told her.

  “Well, Roman rode outta here like he was the sheriff rounding up a posse. Please tell me Carter’s the one with the plan, not Beau.”

  “Hey!” Belle exclaimed.

  “Oh, sorry, Belle. I love Beau like a brother, but you know your husband. He can be big on ideas and a little lax on execution.” Beau had stayed with Jewel and Roman for a few months back in his oat-sowing days, so Jewel had firsthand knowledge of some of his less stellar behavior.

  “An-y-way . . .” I interjected. “The fellas are having some sort of testosterone tribunal.”

  “And we’re supposed to sit by the hearth knitting booties or something while they do whatever damn fool thing they are going to do?”

  “You gotta better idea?” Belle asked.

  “Why does everyone keep forgetting that Renee was my friend first? I’ve known her since she had good sense. All of this mess with Kevin? I guarantee this was all Renee from the beginning. This was her plot from jump to watch us squirm. I’m over it. I got other things to do with my life than wonder when Renee will rear her head again. Veronica and I will be there in thirty minutes. Let the guys do what they do, we’ll handle a few things for ourselves.”

  “Now that’s what I’m talking about.” I high-fived Belle.

  “One other thing?” Jewel added.

  “Yeah?” Belle asked.

  “Can you order me in a veggie omelet with a side of bacon. And some hash browns. And toast? Oooh, and grits with cheese.”

  I laughed. “What are you, eating for two?”

  “Well, actually . . .” Jewel hinted.

  “Oh my God, congratulations!” Belle squealed.

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “If you two heffas end up pregnant at the same time, I swear to God . . .”

  “Wait, what?” Jewel shrieked.

  “I’m not pregnant. At least not that I know of. I could be, but it was only once and no matter what Beau says, he’s not that damned potent,” Belle answered. “But I am starving, so if we’re trying to make brunch happen, I’m all in.”

  “We’ll see you soon,” I told Jewel and disconnected. “Tara, got a minute?” I called out to my intern.

  She hustled in. “Yes, ma’am?”

  Both Belle and I winced. “No more ma’ams, okay? I can be Katrina. Anyway, have you eaten?”

  “I had a granola bar,” she admitted sheepishly.

  I shook my head. “Sweetie, that’s not breakfast. See if the chef will come early and do a brunch for the office. If she can’t, order in. Omelets, waffles, breakfast tacos, a variety of stuff.”

  “This place rocks,” Tara said as she walked out.

  “You know what?” I told Belle, “This place does rock. All those years prancing around in other people’s clothes on other people’s runways, taking midnight classes online and hopping planes and eating two sticks of celery for dinner? We did that so we could run our own house. This house. Our house. No one gets to ruin that for us. We built this. And it does rock.”

  “And once we take care of Ms. Renee? It’s going to continue to rock, sugar.” Belle and I exchanged determined nods and the fist bump for good measure.

  “She musta forgot who we are,” I said.

  Belle sat on the edge of my desk, crossed her legs, and swung her foot back and forth. “She let the pretty fool her. People do that. They see all the pretty and think we’ll put up with shit.”

  “She gonna have to learn the hard way,” I muttered.

  “Damn right.”

  17

  I’ve been three steps ahead of you since you were knee-high to a curb

  Carter—Tuesday, June 22—9:38 a.m.

  Gramps’s townhouse was in North Dallas in an area called North Park. The house was small enough for him to take care of, but big enough for him to have a small yard with a vegetable garden out back that he tended to like it was a favored child. In addition to helping out with the foundations, Gramps attended church, played bid whist, and got together with a group of retired vets at least once a week.

  When I called and told him what we needed, he snapped to attention like he was back in uniform. I climbed out of my car just as Roman pulled up.

  “Parks,” He greeted me.

  “Montgomery.” I nodded and we headed up the sidewalk.

  “This woman has been a thorn in my side from day one,” Roman said.

  “Renee has?”

  “Man, listen, I get less drama from my ex-wife than this chick.”

  Roman had a son from his ex-wife, Jacquenetta. I heard she was some piece of work, so if he thought Renee was a bigger pain in the ass? Well, that was really saying something. “How is the little man?”

  “Chase is almost ten now. He’s gonna be a big brother before too long.” Roman grinned proudly.

  “Congratulations. Did you and Beau plan this?” I knocked twice and walked in the front door.

  “Plan what?” Beau asked, reaching out a hand to fist bump first Roman and then me.

  I looked from one brother to the other. “Are both of your wives pregnant at the same time?”

  They exchanged amused glances. “Jewel is.”

  Beau clasped his younger in a hug that lifted him off the ground. “Mon frère, impressionnant! Belle might be.” Roman slapped him on the back and they grinned at each other. I had to admit I felt a little twinge of envy. Katrina and I weren’t there yet. Hell, we were barely at the point where she let me take a meeting on her behalf.

  Gramps clapped me on the shoulder. “You’re falling behind, son, you need to catch up.”

  “Whoa!” Roman put his hands up with a grimace.

  “Since any catching up he would do would be with my sister, I’m going to request that we change the subject.” Beau looked pained.

  “All right, then.” Gramps waved an older man into the room. “Come on out, Calvin. This is retired Captain Jonas Calvin. After we served together, he went to work for an agency that shall not be named. I had him look into a few things on our behalf.”

  Jonas Calvin looked every inch the serviceman-turned-not-allowed-to-say guy. He was tall, lean, and fit, with short-cropped hair. He wore gray pants and a white polo shirt with a navy jacket over it. He was light-skinned, with dark brown eyes that missed nothing. He took a moment to look each of us up and down. None of us flinched under his regard. Apparently satisfied by what he’d seen, he nodded and stepped further into the room. He had a manila folder in his hand. “Gentlemen, angry people who bear grudges are sloppy and sloppy people get caught.”

  He had our immediate and undivided attention from that moment on. “If you add in the fact that most people are not as smart by half as they think they are, that opens up a lot of doors for us.” He opened up his folder. “Kevin Eriq Delancey, thirty-five years of age, from South Carolina. Managed a B-plus average in high school, tanked his SATs, so his daddy bought his way into Morehouse. Though it’s been kept mostly secret, he did not graduate from there. He left midway through his junior year under a cloud of suspicion involving him possibly paying a young woman to take tests for him in exchange for his unfulfilled promise to marry her. There is additional controversy that Mr. Delancey did not come up with the idea for Serengeti, but stole the concept from his roommate, a Lawrence Payne, who kicked up some dust when the Web site first gained prominence and then was never heard from again. Deeper digging reveals that around that time, a Mrs. Laurencia Payne received an ‘inheritance’ from an unknown relative allowing her and her family to relocate permanently to Costa Rica, where they currently run a beachfront bed-and-breakfast.”

  Beau whistled and rubbed his hands together while Roman and I sat down on the sofa. This guy was good. He was better than good. We’d had people digg
ing into Kevin’s past and hadn’t gotten this deep.

  The captain continued. “While all of that is interesting, we’re just getting close to what you really need. The cameras that were wired up in Ms. Montgomery’s domicile were transmitted to a cloud. The cloud is really just data that jumps from remote server to remote server so that it doesn’t sit in one place. That’s hard to track unless we could tie this to terrorism, which would justify a higher-level trace. However, someone on the other end had to pull that data, in this case the video feed, down out of the cloud. The minute that happens, there is an IP address. As you know, an IP address is tied to an actual computer, router, server, or Wi-Fi system. At some point, the video file piggybacked on Katrina’s home Wi-Fi to transmit. Once we figured that out, it was like having a GPS record of every virtual location where that file landed. Who touched it, who changed it, and who it got sent to. The last thing we have yet to do is to definitively tie your friend Delancey to this file. All we have to do is show that one of these files ever interacted with an IP address he has access to and we’ve got something.”

  “There’s no way you got all of this in the half hour since Gramps called you,” I said in awe.

  “Son, I’ve been three steps ahead of you since you were knee-high to a curb and I don’t aim to slow down anytime soon,” my grandfather said.

  “Collin has had me working on this since the day you called from Barbados, Carter.” Jonas nodded.

  “Well, when you say big guns . . . you mean big guns,” Roman said.

  “So what’s next?” Beau asked.

  “We’ve got someone who can tie one of Delancey’s guys to the fake sex tape. So I’m going to reach out and see if we can incentivize that guy to flip. That’s the rundown of what we have on the Katrina side of things. We went ahead and took the information your investigator provided and went a little deeper into Serengeti’s business practices and books. I’m going to have to bring in a forensic accountant because it got real messy, real quick, in there. My goal is to get as many criminal charges thrown at this guy as we can. He’s not a good guy.”

  “What about this Renee chick? Anything on her?” I asked.