“Harry! Hey, dude!”
“AJ and Dench. You two are going to be old and gray, and you’ll always sound like those two hard-headed kids who used to run over me on the field. How are you doing?”
“Good, man, really good. And it’s good to hear your voice.” AJ’s laughter deepened. “Dench is on the extension.”
“Yeah, dude, I’m here. You gonna take us up on that invitation?”
“Absolutely. That’s what I called about.” The men on the other end whooped wildly. Still kids at heart. Holding the phone to his ear, Harry crossed the room to look out over the city. “But as nice as this Guys’ Night Out is, when am I going to get to meet your wives?”
“You already know Rissa,” AJ teased.
“Hey!” Dench was feeling protective.
“She’s married.” AJ wasn’t going to say it, but there had been a time when Harry’s feelings had been more than a little hurt when AJ’s pretty sister had shown a definite preference for Dench Traylor. And even though Harry had gotten over it long before they married, AJ couldn’t resist the reminder.
“I’ve never met your wife, though. I’d really like to know what you did to get her to love you,” Harry countered.
“Then you’re going to have to plan to stay in Atlanta for a while. She’ll have to tell you what a complicated man I am,” AJ said and laughed. “We’ll have you out to the house for dinner. You’ll get to meet my kids, too. But I’ve got to warn you, Jabari is definitely my son, full of questions and challenges. And my daughter, Nia, is a pretty charmer, like her mother, so you’re going to have to watch your heart.”
“Dude, my wife and kids are complicated, too.”
“Right, Dench.” Harry laughed. “I’ll take my chances on that, but I’m all about watching the Falcons work out. You know I still like the Browns. Never did buy into the Ravens, but Atlanta’s my home team. Can’t wait to see what your boys will bring to the field.”
“Then let’s do this next week.”
“I’ll call and confirm.” Harry was still smiling when the call ended. Standing, he felt relaxed, happy with his life. Maybe this was a good time for that nap.
Two steps away from his desk, he heard the distinctive business ring of his cellphone. Tempted to let the call go to voicemail, he knew he would regret it if the caller was Deb, or Yamada with news about Roppongi. He watched the phone vibrate, then sighed heavily. Answering, he was stunned by the sultry voice on the other end.
“Hi, Harry.”
“Karen. This call is a surprise.” Deb said the caller was aggressive. Is aggressive another word for voracious? For the first time since he’d met her, Karen Dodge sounded exactly like what Harry was beginning to realize she was: a man-eater.
She let a satisfied hum cross the line between them, the sound soft and low, almost a slurp of sensuality. He imagined her in bed, knew what she would look like bare, warm, and available. “I’m in town for a few more days. I thought we might get together and enjoy each other. You know, for old time’s sake.”
Harry gave it a moment’s thought and knew they didn’t have any old times he was willing to relive. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Karen.”
“You’re home now.” It wasn’t a question and it wouldn’t have been Karen’s style to ask, anyway. “I already have your address, and I could be there in…oh, say, fifteen minutes.”
Not so long ago, that invitation would have left Harry hard and hungry. Now, it only left him realizing how much he missed Bianca. “No, that’s not a good idea. I don’t want you here, or anywhere else.”
Disbelief rippled between them. “Did you just say no to me? Harry, if you don’t want to sound like you’re begging, I understand. No big deal, it’s just a little ‘thanks for the memories’ sex between friends.”
“I don’t want to be that kind of friend, Karen.”
“I see,” she finally said. “Whose friend are you now? A man like you doesn’t go long without, so if you don’t have anything left for me, who is getting the best of you these days?”
“That’s not your business, Karen.”
“Really? Oh, I can’t wait to meet this woman.”
“I don’t ever see that happening. I’m going to hang up, but I don’t ever see us having another conversation, Karen.”
“Oh, darling, gorgeous, naive Harry, never say never.”
The line went dead in his hand, and, sitting on the corner of his desk, Harry looked out the windows and shook his head, wondering how he’d ever been so shallow and stupid. Yeah, Karen was great to look at, and even better to touch, but she was hard on a man’s ego. She thought men were pets. Once you got past her money and looks and the sex, there was nothing about her strong enough to base a future on. Superficial, he thought, a synonym for Karen Dodge.
He sighed and tossed the phone onto the desktop. No man wanted a woman who stood for nothing but herself and shopping, and if he did, he didn’t want her for long or for much other than her looks and sex. At some point, you have to get out of bed and have a life. And Karen didn’t want to put in the work.
Karen had never had a job, not really. Being born with money and a knack for investment, she’d never really needed one, but just because she didn’t work didn’t mean she didn’t know how to work it. And for Karen, it meant working her social connections to get the information and results she wanted. And right now, she was determined to know and eliminate her competition.
“Who would know?” She scrolled through her phone list, shaking her head as she went through the alphabet. “That damned reclusive Harry spends so much time out of the country, nobody in Atlanta knows him anymore.” But that wasn’t quite right, was it? Somebody, some female somebody, knew Harry. Biting down on her full lower lip, Karen tightened her gaze and scrolled further, finally coming to a name she recognized.
She pressed SEND and waited. If this one didn’t know, she would know someone who did. Karen took a deep breath and waited until Paisley Denham answered her phone.
“Paisley? Sweetie, this is Karen.”
“Who?”
Dippy Southern twit! “Karen Dodge, honey. We talked at that Project ABLE fundraiser last year, remember?”
Paisley’s voice brightened. “I remember you had on that red dress that I would have just sold my very soul for! Well, honey, it’s been a long time. How are you?”
“Really good. I was just wondering, a friend of mine has a new friend, and I’m trying to track her down to…”
She never got the next words out.
“Find out what she’s up to with your friend?” Paisley’s accent went deep and all of the Scarlett O’Hara in her soul vaulted to the fore. “What’s your friend’s name?”
Paisley may have been slow about a lot of things, but she knew how to connect the dots when it came to men and women. Must be how she got that Miss Whatever-the-hell-she-was title. Karen hesitated and then thought, what the hell. I don’t sleep with this woman, and I don’t live in her little world. I could not care less what she thinks or who she tells. “Harry Jordan. He was at that fundraiser, too.”
“Oh,” Paisley squealed. “I don’t know him, but I know of him. His brother lives just across the way. Bobby and me, Bobby is my dog, we walk over there all the time. He’s a cutie, the brother is, though my dog’s pretty sweet, too.”
If I didn’t need her…“I’m sure he is, sweetie. The brother?”
“Oh, yeah, well just a little while ago, Akemi, the brother who lives across the way, he said he was trying to find a way to match his brother up with this woman. He never came right out and mentioned her name, but Akemi owns Kin Kura International. Maybe I could give him a call and pry the information out of him for you. Akemi is so easy to talk to, and did I tell you how good-looking he is?”
This fool is simply looking for a way to separate that man from his clothes. And damned if I’m going to be her excuse. “I’m only going to be in town for another day or so. It’s really not that important. Thanks for offe
ring, though. Bye, now.”
“Oh, maybe next time.”
Karen hung up knowing there was never going to be a next time. There had to be a better way. Scrolling through her cellphone, she looked at Harry’s business number again. Oh sure, he’d given it to her in happier times, but it was all she had for now. Her breasts rose and fell heavily. It was either try again or admit defeat, and no man had ever made her admit anything she didn’t want to—not even Harry Jordan.
She pressed SEND and waited. “And if it’s that same snippy wench as before, I will clear my afternoon calendar and go over there for the sheer pleasure of slapping her silly.”
Luckily for both Deb and Karen, Deb had just stepped away from her desk to retrieve a fax. In her stead Lauren Owens, the new Georgia Tech engineering intern, was in charge of the phones. Lauren was just over five feet tall and weighed a hundred pounds, soaking wet. Her green eyes and blonde hair had a tendency to shine almost as brightly as her intelligence. A National Merit Scholar with an affinity for math, she was also an incorrigible gossip—but nobody ever asked her about it, and she never volunteered it on her internship application.
When the phone rang, she seized the opportunity and hoped for excitement, though she still couldn’t understand why Harry Jordan preferred to have the phones answered by his human staff during the workday. “Good morning, you’ve reached the offices of NeoTech Integrated Security Systems. This is Lauren Owens, how may I direct your call?”
Karen was a little sorry not to have an excuse for a good smackdown. This wasn’t the snippy one. This one sounded like a kid playing grown-up. “Good morning. May I speak with Mr. Jordan, please?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Jordan is unavailable.” Lauren pressed a finger to the headset.
The caller sighed into the phone. “I’ve missed him, then?”
Sexy voice, sexy lady, Lauren decided. “Is this a personal call?”
Karen decided to jiggle the bait a bit and sighed the affirmative.
Lauren wondered what this woman looked like and what her personal business with The Boss could possibly be. Then it occurred to her—this could only be his new interest. Lauren had heard the word around the office, even though she’d missed the woman’s visit, but she remembered the name and threw it out—a little bait of her own. “Is this Ms. Coltrane?”
Coltrane? Like the musician? Karen almost hooted. All she had was a last name and a location for Harry’s brother’s business, but she knew how to put two and two together and get what she wanted. She hung up.
“Hello?” Lauren flopped back in Deb’s chair, wishing the woman had been Ms. Coltrane. Oh, well. She looked around the office and sighed. Maybe something exciting would happen soon.
Better armed, Karen used her phone like a weapon and clicked through to directory assistance to find a number for Kin Kura International. Loving the essential cloak and dagger feel of her approach, she dialed the number and couldn’t stop smiling when she asked for an appointment. She had been told, she lied, to ask for Ms. Coltrane’s assistance. The associate was polite when she asked for her name. Thinking quickly, she gave her grandmother’s name. Ella Gray’s appointment was made and confirmed—with Bianca Coltrane.
And thirty minutes out of bed, Karen was plucking Prada and Dolce and Gabbana from her closets with one objective in mind: Finding out about the woman who had Harry Jordan turning her down. She paused at a rack of shoes, selected a pair of open-toed pumps, and refused to think about what she would do when she found the woman.
It wasn’t as though there weren’t other men in the world; she just wanted this one. And he turned me down. She huffed out her frustration and dropped the shoes on a small cushioned bench. Hands on hips, she pursed her lips and let the thought spin itself out. I know what this is about. He’s thinking about his future again, and we don’t have a future together.
Dropping her robe, Karen stood in front of the full length mirrors lining the dressing room of her Atlanta home and took stock of herself. Angling her head, she could see that even at forty-five, the good genes she’d inherited from her father’s Moorish mother and Cuban father were still standing her in good stead, but it was the rich unlined dark skin of her mother’s hearty Jamaican ancestors who would keep her looking good well into her seventieth year. “Good genes,” she sighed.
Leaving the robe where it was, knowing someone would get it, Karen ran her hands through her hair and strolling into her bathroom, thought of what life in a city like Atlanta could offer. Not much, she decided, letting her hair fall around her shoulders. But for some odd reason, he likes it here. Not that she was trying to establish anything permanent with Harry; she just didn’t want to lose what she’d always had with him—good old emotionally unencumbered sex.
Harry Jordan and what she wanted to do with him was still on Karen’s mind when she touched the wide brim of her hat before sauntering away from her limousine and into Peachtree Center’s North Tower lobby. Second thoughts stalled her momentarily when she had to find Kin Kura International in the building’s computerized directory. A deep breath and a sense of entitlement let her shake the question off.
Still, what she did next was going to depend on luck as much as anything else. Kin Kura International was owned by Harry’s brother. She’d only met the man once, and it had taken Paisley Denham’s prattle to dredge up the memory. It was at the Project ABLE fundraiser, for about a minute, and that was nearly a year ago. In that minute, they’d never discussed her relationship to Harry.
But what if he recognizes me and figures out why I’m here? Frustration did a naughty little can-can across her nerves and she felt her pulse buck and quicken. He can’t be there, Karen ordered the Universe, he can’t.
Determined, she pulled out her cellphone and turned her back on the security guard seated at the desk. Finding the number she’d used earlier, Karen waited impatiently for her call to be answered. When a woman who gave her name as Joi Lansing answered the phone, Karen asked for Mr. Jordan.
The woman said he was out at this time, and Karen’s pulse slowed to normal. She terminated the call before Joi could say anything else, not caring whether there was anything else to say. She had all the information she wanted. Walking across the lobby, stepping onto the elevator, she couldn’t help feeling a sense of satisfaction. As she pressed the button for the twenty-first floor, Karen felt good—this was going to be even easier than she’d expected, and she could deal with the fallout later. Harry’s little friend was going to be toast.
Like an itch, a pair of sudden thoughts rattled her calm. What if they’ve found a way to love each other? What if there’s no room for me between them? Karen stood taller and her fingers tightened on her handbag. That is not going to happen.
The elevator rocked a little as it stopped to pick up another pair of passengers and Karen kept her eyes straight ahead. Am I really this willing to risk making a fool of myself over this man? As fine and noble as he is, there are other men. There are others. But her head and maybe even a little bit of her heart wanted Harry.
The brunette standing to her left in the elevator gave her an odd glance and an extra step’s worth of space when Karen gave the thought a haughty sniff of disdain. Not caring, Karen kept her eyes and thoughts fixed as the elevator rose. Stepping out on the twenty-first floor, looking around the North Tower, she saw pretty much what she’d expected: bright hardware and polished wood. Stopping at the first reflective surface she found, she peered at her face. Touching a careful finger to the corners of her mouth, she had to admit she liked what she saw.
Sensual, seductive, stunning beauty, the kind most women only imagined could be found between the pages of a magazine—that was what Karen saw. She knew that was the face Harry’s little upstart of a temptation would see, and Karen hoped it would leave her feeling like two cents waiting for change. Satisfied with her look and her power, Karen walked down the hall.
Outside the showroom, an artful plaque displayed Kin Kura International’s name, and Karen e
xperienced a hunter’s adrenaline rush. Pushing through the heavy wooden double doors, she let her eyes sweep the intriguingly appointed floor space. Much of the décor was exactly what she’d expected: buttery soft leather settees, soothing bonsai, and expensive hand-carved wood. Not bad. He has nice taste.
From the shadow of her hat’s brim, Karen inspected the two women who looked up when she entered the showroom. One of them was her quarry, and she made a little bet with herself. The tall one, slender but with plenty of curves. Something about her eyes…She watched the woman walk toward her, pretty much a one-woman parade, with her head held high and her carriage confident, all she needed was a little music and an excuse to wave like a pageant winner.
Karen saw the question in the woman’s eyes before she asked, so she stepped forward. “I’m Ella Gray. I have an appointment with Ms. Coltrane.”
The woman smiled and Karen gave her points; it was a smile Harry would have liked.
“I’m Bianca Coltrane, and it’s very nice to meet you.” She offered her hand and ‘Ella Gray’ deliberately moved both her hands to her purse, ignoring the extended greeting.
Caught off guard, Bianca’s smile tightened when she brought her hands together in front of her body. Smart enough not to huff in the woman’s face, she tried to think happy thoughts while ‘Ella Gray’ stood unperturbed.
Moving to a small table holding copies of Kin Kura International’s most recent catalogue, ‘Ella Gray’ pursed her lips as she lifted one and paged through it silently, giving Bianca a chance to study her. They were of approximately the same height and weight, though ‘Ella Gray’ was darker and older. Her wide-brimmed hat and deceptively simple black sheath were eye-catching, but the long strands of pearls draped around her slender neck were a bit too ostentatiously Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast At Tiffany’s for Bianca’s taste.
When ‘Ella’ snapped the catalogue closed, she appeared refined, but with an air of over-indulged entitlement, and when she looked up, her feline-tilted eyes were dark enough to be called black. “I am most interested in the dynastic jade. The nineteenth-century piece, the celadon and russet jade model of the lady and phoenix.”
Wayward Dreams Page 22