“While you watch the videos, I’ll take care of all this food.” Brent reclosed the boxes.
“You can put the food in the refrigerator. Someone always eats the leftovers.”
Brent finished putting away the food. He debated with himself whether to show Charisse the underbelly of the group. The group’s egos were proving to be their weak point. But hiding the messy details from her wouldn’t help with finding the right road map for them. He hoped the journey wouldn’t be too painstaking.
“Too much for you?” he asked when he returned to the room.
“It’s a bit random, which makes branding difficult. The rawness is okay if that’s the collective image of the band. I suspect it isn’t, though. Let’s get that nailed down before we allow the individual personalities to take over. Although by the look of how many friends and followers they have, it might be too late to contain the more colorful members of the group.”
“The one thing I don’t want is to sugarcoat who they are. All For One are four guys from different backgrounds, and despite their rough beginnings, they’ve formed a bond like brothers.” Brent felt compelled to defend them when he saw the frown etched along her forehead.
“You know, whenever you talk about them, your voice softens.” She played with a fortune cookie in her hand. “Tell me about your connection with them.”
Charisse’s voice coaxed him to share. This woman had a special knack for getting him to open up.
“I first saw them at a high school talent show.” Brent paused. “At the time, I wasn’t in the business as an agent. The instant that they took the stage the crowd went crazy. Their style reminded me of the R & B bands from the 1990s. They could sing, dance and knew how to work the audience. The icing on the cake was their passion.” Brent broke off, a bit embarrassed at how much he had gushed. He looked at Charisse for her reaction. She remained quiet and thoughtful. At least her frown had been erased.
“I know what you mean. When I reviewed the concert footage you sent me, I have to admit that not only was I impressed but I immediately saw many viable possibilities. That made me excited.” She smiled at him widely, and his body reacted as if jolted.
“Having the right person to do this project is paramount. But having someone like you, who is excited about the guys and their potential, is even more important.”
“Thank you,” she said with a quiet simplicity.
Brent didn’t understand what was happening to him. He suddenly had the strong urge to rub his finger along her cheek until it rested on her soft lips. He didn’t want to face the reality that only a separation could diminish his feelings.
He’d never pushed himself on a woman. Work usually served to kill any romantic efforts. Charisse, he suspected, was too much of a professional to be feeling the sparks he was feeling. He tried to refocus his mind.
Brent took a deep breath and plunged forward. “They also sang at my wife’s funeral. She died in a car accident two years ago. In a way, I guess they do have more of a special connection with me than any other group.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your loss.” She covered his hand with hers briefly. The moment she removed her hand, he wanted to protest.
No one had sparked any iota of interest in him since his wife’s passing. He’d grieved for Marjorie almost to the detriment of his health. Counseling and his career switch had helped him focus on the present and future. But he struggled to allow his guilt to dissipate.
“Tell me about the guys on that day,” she asked softly.
“By the time they were done, there wasn’t a dry eye. They sang a hymn a cappella with an abundance of soul that you’re used to hearing from someone like Smokey Robinson, not this young group of guys. I definitely would love to issue it as a single. Of course their online presence doesn’t quite go with a spiritual song.”
“You’re right. But there might be a way to spin this. More important, I can’t wait to meet them.”
Brent appreciated that Charisse had not barged ahead with tons of questions. Only recently had he been able to talk about his wife and begin reconnecting with friends. Each time, he tested his ability to be levelheaded and normal again.
“I know that I can give them the platform they need to shine. Each one is gifted and can probably go solo, but in the meantime, we are focusing on them as a group.”
Charisse nodded. “They’ve been performing long enough that I’m sure others have seen that special something that makes them memorable. Do you sing?”
Brent laughed. “Sorry, I’m sure it’s a fair question. If you heard me, you’d probably change that to ‘I hope you don’t sing.’”
“I’m sure you have some talent. You know the business side, but I think there is also a love for music and performing in you.”
“I can play the piano.” Brent felt himself relax under her soft smile. “Used to play in a little jazz club during college.”
“Oh, now I really want to see you play. I pictured you as the athletic type.”
“Did all that, too. That’s how I got scholarship money. But I wasn’t a star, nor did I want to be one. Now I use my music to relax, to have fun.”
“I’m betting that you can sing.”
“Maybe one day you’ll find out.”
“One day…” Charisse grinned. Then her mood shifted. “Well, it’s getting late. I think that I’ve got enough here to get started.”
“Yes.” Brent struggled to kill the intimate mood that had crept in quietly and settled softly around them.
The small windowless room stirred a longing in him. He didn’t want to analyze it. How could he explain what he wanted most at that moment? Don’t even go there. His brain, ever so logical, jabbed at his conscience. All he had to do was pull away and board his flight.
“Here’s to hard work and success. Let’s seal with a handshake.” Charisse offered her hand.
Brent took her hand and nodded. “See you in two weeks.”
He wanted to turn her hand over and softly place a kiss on her pulse. Would her heartbeat spike the way his did right now at the mere thought of the temptation?
Thankfully, he didn’t have to think about the option. Charisse led the way out of the room. She chatted about always being there when the cleaning crew came through. He offered the expected nods and interested tilt of the head as he listened.
But he couldn’t focus. Her new haircut allowed the tip of a rose tattoo to peep above the collar of her blouse.
“You were saying?” Charisse stopped and turned.
Brent almost bumped into her back. “Oh, I was…complimenting your new hairdo. Suits you.” His hand rose to touch her hair.
Her face turned into his hand, perfectly molding into his palm. Before he could pull away his hand, she covered it with hers. Her gaze rested on his face, almost at his chin, before she scanned his face slowly, finally locking eyes with him.
He only hesitated for a second before lowering his mouth to seal his kiss.
Chapter 6
Brent accepted the sweet invitation of Charisse’s parted lips. He couldn’t believe that he was kissing her, and he cocooned her within his arms to savor the reality. Excitement zipped along his nerve endings like a caffeinated blast.
She moaned and settled against his taut body. He felt her curves, from the firm breasts, to her flat abs, to the small hips where his hands lightly rested. He didn’t want to rush this, nor end it.
Yet he pulled back, a whispered breath apart.
“What…are you doing?”
“This is so wrong,” Brent whispered.
“But it feels so right.” She stood on tiptoe, sliding her body along his, flicking the On switch to his body. This time she had her hands locked firmly on his hips.
Brent groaned. He shook
away the frail vapors of rules and decorum.
Desires flamed.
His mouth sought refuge at the spot under her earlobe. The perfume she must have dabbed there acted like an accelerant. He tasted her skin, seeking to know every part of her. His kisses peppered her face softly.
She unbuttoned his shirt. Her eyes were bright and filled with desire. He lifted her and placed her on the edge of the conference table. Her tongue seared a path down his chest.
He couldn’t be outdone. His fingers clumsily worked to unbutton her shirt. His throat went dry.
The black lacy bra offered her breasts in a delectable display. She took his hand and allowed him to cup her breast. His thumb swept back and forth, teasing her aroused nipple.
“Allow me,” she whispered. Her mouth looked tender and delicious, moist for the taking.
“Darn it, who cares,” he muttered. He took it, claiming her mouth with a guttural charge.
Her hand reciprocated the attention by cupping him between his legs.
Their bodies touched, skin meeting skin. Their mouths celebrated their connection. He tasted her, enticed by her bold strokes. He craved hearing her moan against his lips. The sheer rapture of the moment reached addictive levels.
A phone rang.
The noise only barely penetrated the heightened sensuality of the moment. Finally, the ringing stopped.
Brent kissed Charisse’s shoulder. Although she was beautiful in the lacy bra, he’d much rather it be off. Right now, he wanted to slowly suck her nipple. The thought almost made him explode.
The phone rang again.
“I think it’s mine.” Charisse released him and reached for the phone.
The minute she answered, he noticed a wave of realization cascade over her. He stepped back before she pushed him away. There was no mistaking the regret in her face. She grabbed her shirt and scooted off the table and out of the conference room.
Charisse had done some stupid things in her life. But this had to rank up there in the top three. Acting like a horny teen was one thing, if she was a teen. Now she had to face Brent and hope that he’d still want to work with her.
Never mind that he’d seemed turned on. Most men would take anything being offered—on the conference table, of all places. She wanted to cry but couldn’t.
Deep down inside, she knew why she couldn’t shed a tear. The remorse had left the building. She shook her head. In how many office gossip stories had she delivered her scathing opinion of office relationships and inappropriate client behavior?
Thankfully, Tracy had called to check up on her.
She only wished that she’d sounded a little less like she’d just woken. But she couldn’t switch off the sexual energy that had her mind in a fog.
Now she wanted to go home. Her front door needed to be closed on Brent and his all-powerful sexiness. She needed to be gone in case Tracy took the initiative to come to the office to reassure herself that everything was okay.
Charisse tucked in her shirt, straightened her skirt and fiddled with her hair, which had decided not to cooperate. She took deep breaths before leaving her office. Right now, her emotions needed a sanctuary.
She almost jumped out of her skin when she opened the door and Brent stood there, as if he’d been waiting for her to reemerge.
“I am truly sorry,” Brent blurted.
She nodded. “I should be the one apologizing. I shouldn’t have…it’s been a long day.”
“I apologize for that, too. Sometimes I suffer from insomnia and think that the entire world does, too.” Brent rubbed his forehead furiously. He walked away but then came back to stand in front of her.
“Yes?” Charisse braced herself for the tongue lashing that she expected from him.
“I am sorry. I meant no disrespect to you. Not trying to take advantage.” His mouth pursed. Something troubled him, hanging over his shoulder like a weight.
“I’m fine,” she said, hoping to ease him from his torture.
“It’s just that I have no regrets. I liked kissing you. I enjoyed having you in my arms. I’m only sorry that I skipped so many steps without your consent.” Although he looked pained with the admission, he never once avoided eye contact.
She was impressed. He could’ve brushed aside her feelings, headed out the door and pretended it didn’t happen or, worse, thought that he had an open door to express his desires. Instead, he had stepped up like a man.
“Well, that’s all I wanted to say.”
“Hold on a second. You’re not the only one who has the floor.” She saw his shoulders square, and he took a deep breath. A small tic worked at his clenched jaw. She wanted to lay a comforting touch on his jaw until he relaxed. But no, that had gotten her into trouble only minutes ago.
“I am ashamed for not showing proper restraint—and with a client, nonetheless. What happened tonight wouldn’t or couldn’t have happened with just anyone. I’d hoped that you’d kiss me. I’m glad that you did.” The last statement almost caught in her throat. She tried to keep her gaze locked on those gray-blue eyes, but she suddenly felt shy. She lowered her gaze to her fingers that were nervously chipping away at her nail polish.
He grinned. “Whew, I’m so relieved.”
“Me, too,” she said, with her own wide grin.
“Now what?”
“We can’t do this again,” she said without conviction.
“You’re right. We can’t.”
Charisse already knew that she’d be in trouble again. The only thing missing now was an opportunity. She’d find a way back into Brent’s arms. Very little caused any sort of addictive behavior within her. Brent’s influence had a searing effect on her nervous system and, try as she might, she couldn’t make herself immune to it.
The memory of his hand stroking her breast made her catch her breath.
“Are you okay?” Brent hovered.
“Just a bit tired.”
“I won’t keep you any longer. It’s time for me to get on that plane, anyway.”
“Great. I’ll walk out with you. Meet you back here in a few minutes? I’ll gather my stuff. Believe it or not, I’ll probably put in another hour of work when I get home.”
“No one at home waiting for you?”
“No, I’m all alone.” Charisse hadn’t invited a man to her house in a long time. All she knew how to do was to add a tone of invite to her words. For her, being flirty was like cranking up a rusty, neglected tractor but that wouldn’t stop her from trying.
Brent surveyed the area in the conference room. He made sure no evidence lingered of what had almost transpired. The only thing left to do was for the cleaning crew to come through, to vacuum and dust. Brent picked up his briefcase and turned out the light.
Time for him to return to reality.
But at least he’d have this night to remember. He appreciated that Charisse had not put him through the wringer. He wanted to believe that she did want him as much as he wanted her.
His doubts were underscored by the fact that they had only known each other for less than a week. But their instant attraction was undeniable. Yet that was only the beginning of what he felt. His attraction gave way to open respect and a desire to be with her. He wanted a friendship, too. But he refused to push himself on her and didn’t know how far he could go.
He headed toward Charisse’s office. He wondered why his phone hadn’t rung all night. A check of the instrument revealed that he’d mistakenly turned it off. Hopefully there were no emergencies. He’d been too distracted to be aware of the rare uninterrupted evening.
His phone buzzed in the various messages and texts that now came through the system. One reminder was to get him headed to the airport. Realizing the time, he summoned his driver.
“Rea
dy?” he asked.
Charisse walked toward him with bags in her hands. They headed to the elevator, taking the ride down together. No conversation, not even small talk, was shared between them. His thoughts centered on what she might be thinking at that moment. Did she regret sharing her desires?
When he pushed open the door, the brisk cool temperature hit them in the face. He wrapped an arm around Charisse to shield her from the wind.
As soon as the car stopped, he opened the door and helped her in. He waved to the driver to get back in the car.
“The weather turned a little brutal.” He stated the obvious. “I didn’t mean to shove you in the car.”
“I appreciate the warmth. Seems like this spring weather is going to stay put for a little bit.” She rubbed her legs, a move that tantalized him.
“Can I give you a lift somewhere?”
“I usually take the subway just a couple of blocks away.”
Another gust of wind slammed litter against the car window. A trash can crashed onto its side and rolled back and forth as the breeze toyed with it.
“Like you said, it’s much warmer in here. I’d be happy to drop you off at home.”
“You have your flight. I don’t want to put you out of your way.”
“That’s the beauty of chartering the plane. Besides, I’d feel better making sure you got home safely.”
“You’re going to spoil me with all these rides. I won’t know how to handle the subway with the masses. But you don’t hear me protesting too much. And this forecast sure isn’t working with my clothing choices.”
“Where to?” Brent couldn’t complain about the clothing choices. From his vantage point, her fashion sense was excellent. Her lingerie also had the power to invoke a massive coronary in him.
“I’m in Brooklyn, Brownsville neighborhood.”
“The driver has a GPS. Go ahead and tell him your address.”
If I Had You Page 7