The Perfect Present

by Rochelle Alers

  “Maya, don’t be shy. Come over here and meet my new agent,” Javonte called.

  Fear flashed in her eyes, but she nodded, and cautiously approached the couch.

  His legs felt heavier than fifty-pound weights, but Marc stood and smoothed a hand over the front of his shirt. God help him. He was a mess. Couldn’t stop staring at Maya if his life depended on it—and it did. She must have just gotten out of the shower because her hair was damp, her skin was glowing, and she smelled of perfume and lotion.

  “What happened to Ike?” Maya asked, a frown bruising her glossy lips. “He’s been with you for years and you guys have a great relationship.”

  “Not anymore. I found out he was bad-mouthing me behind my back, so I fired his ass, and signed with Marc Cunningham of Titan Management,” Javonte explained.

  “I didn’t know you and Ike were having problems. Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “Because you were on the road with Lyrical Soul in Europe and I didn’t want you to worry. You know how you get.”

  Javonte winked at Maya, and the siblings shared a knowing smile.

  “Marc, this is my sister, Maya. She’s the stylist for the a capella group Lyrical Soul, and also a budding fashion designer. One day soon, she’ll be a household name. I know it.”

  Maya extended her right hand. Like playing tag in rush-hour traffic, Marc knew touching her was dangerous, but since he didn’t want to make Javonte suspicious, he forced a smile and shook her outstretched hand. Electricity rippled across his flesh, but Marc maintained his composure. Kept his game face on. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Same here.” Fiddling with the gold thumb ring on her left hand, Maya shifted and shuffled her feet. “I’d better get back to the kitchen. The wings are in the oven, and I don’t want them to burn.”

  Maya turned and walked away, and Marc tracked her every move. The woman had it all. A winning personality. A dazzling, Chiclet-white smile. Curves galore. He was drooling, but noticed the other guys in the room were slobbering all over themselves, too. His eyes narrowed. Marc didn’t like Javonte’s friends gawking at her, but there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

  Tearing his gaze away from her backside, Marc swiped his cell phone off the coffee table and shoved it into his pocket. It was time to go. Before he lost it. After his unexpected run-in with Maya, he needed a shot of vodka to calm his nerves, and a cold shower. “Javonte, I have to go, but I’ll be in touch.” Marc yanked his jacket off the coat hanger and shrugged it on. “I’ll call you once I talk to Coach, but try not to worry.”

  “Stay for lunch. My sister is a culinary genius, and her recipes have won contests.”

  “I thought you had a personal chef.”

  “I do, but Batista only works when Maya’s out of town.”

  Marc closed his gaping mouth. “She lives here with you? Why?”

  “Why not?” Glancing around the room, Javonte flung his arms wide open. “I have tons of space, I love having her around, and best of all she’s an outstanding cook.”

  The savory aroma in the air caused his stomach to groan and grumble, but Marc ignored his hunger. Staring at his watch, he tapped the glass with his index finger. “I have a one o’clock meeting with a golf prodigy in Gold Coast, and I don’t want to be late.”

  “Don’t sweat it. You have plenty of time.”

  Marc thought hard, but he couldn’t think of an excuse to get out of lunch. And when he remembered his quickie with Maya in the shower last night—how she’d turned him out with her tongue a million different ways—his life flashed before his eyes, and dread filled his stomach.

  “Now, let’s eat. I’m hungrier than a sumo wrestler on a no-carb diet!” Javonte joked, with a hearty chuckle. The matter decided, he clapped Marc on the shoulder and steered him out of the media room, with his eight-man entourage in tow.

  Chapter 5

  Christmas music was playing on the stereo system, a lively, upbeat song by the reggae group Boney M., but Marc’s thoughts were filled with guilt, not goodwill to all men. Sliding his hands into the pockets of his dress pants, he admired his surroundings. The simplicity of the cathedral ceilings, granite countertops, and tiled floors in the gourmet kitchen were a stark contrast to the adjoining great room. It had chandeliers, ten-foot-long sofas, and the gold and black color scheme was striking. Just like Maya. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled at him, but Marc pretended to admire the framed photographs hanging on the walls. He’d been to Javonte’s estate several times before, but he’d never been in the great room. If he had, he would have known about Maya. There were pictures of her everywhere.

  “J, be a good host and get Marc something to drink,” Maya advised.

  Their eyes met, and desire scorched his skin. His heart was beating so loud, he feared everyone else could hear it, too. It was stressful being in the same room as his favorite client and his one-night stand—the woman who’d given him the best sex of his life—and if he was going to survive lunch, he had to stay far away from Maya. Avoid her at all costs.

  Dodging her gaze, he accepted the wine cooler Javonte shoved into his hands, and nodded his thanks. It wasn’t a shot of Grey Goose, but it would suffice. A creature of habit, Marc pulled out Maya’s chair and waited until she was seated before he sat down beside her. So much for keeping my distance, he thought, wanting to kick himself for not sticking to his plan. His body yearned for her, but Marc kept his hands to himself and off her sinful curves.

  The walnut table, which seated twelve, was covered in silverware and round serving platters. Poinsettias were positioned between the red, scented candles. Starving, Marc picked up the bowl of short ribs, prepared to fill his plate to the brim, but froze when Javonte spoke up.

  “Hold up, man. We have to say grace first.”

  Marc thought he was joking and laughed out loud, but no one else did.

  “Don’t let the chains and tattoos fool you,” Javonte said, clasping his hands together, his expression solemn. “I was raised in the church, and I’m a very spiritual dude.”

  To Marc’s surprise, everyone at the table bowed their heads and closed their eyes. Maya took his hand, and his thoughts flashed back to last night. They’d made love in the shower, and after a midnight snack courtesy of room service, he’d escorted her to the presidential suite. Though he didn’t leave. They’d remained in the hallway, talking and laughing and kissing, and if her girlfriends hadn’t opened the door and dragged her inside, they probably would have returned to his suite to make love for the fourth time.

  “God, we bow our heads to honor you,” Javonte prayed, sounding as dignified as a bishop. “Thank you for this meal, and for the gift of good friends and family. Amen.”

  Marc couldn’t speak. His tongue was frozen inside his mouth, and his lips were glued together. Worst of all, he felt like Judas. Breaking bread with Javonte, knowing now that Maya was his kid sister, troubled his conscience, and Marc couldn’t look at the defensive lineman without being consumed with guilt and regret. And the more he tried to delete the images of last night from his mind, the more vivid they were.

  In good spirits, the group chatted about the weather, their old neighborhood, and their plans for the Christmas holidays. Marc dished himself some food, took two bites, and put down his fork. He couldn’t eat it. Not because it didn’t taste good but because his stomach was in knots. He couldn’t recall ever being this nervous, not even when he’d proposed to his ex-wife, and hoped he didn’t make a fool of himself in front of Maya during lunch.

  “What are you going to do with your signing bonus from Nike?” Chauncey asked.

  “Buy a Rolls Royce Phantom for me and all of my boys.”

  A cheer rose up from the table, and Marc rolled his eyes to the ceiling. Couldn’t believe Javonte was planning to spend his seven-figure check on his friends, even though he’d foot the bill for the group to travel to Brazil two weeks earlier. “Javonte, why don’t you invest it, or donate it to your favorite inner
-city charity?”

  The grin slid off of his mouth. “Because I want a Rolls Royce Phantom.”

  Swallowing a curse, Marc stabbed a baby tomato with his fork. He wanted to remind Javonte that he had ten luxury cars and motorcycles in his garage, but changed his mind. Why bother? The defensive lineman spent money faster than he earned it, but since he’d rather listen to his friends than sound advice, Marc held his tongue.

  “J, Marc’s right,” Maya said, a concerned expression on her pretty face. “You don’t need another sports car. You need to save. You can’t play football forever—”

  Rap music filled the air, and everyone at the table checked their electronic devices. “I have to take this call,” Maya explained, rising to her feet. “I’ll be right back.”

  Maya left the table, but this time Marc kept his eyes on his plate and off her shapely ass.

  “Hey! Knock it off !” Scowling, Javonte gave the guy in the Lakers jersey a shot in the chest with his fist. “Maya’s not one of those chicks you like messing with at the club. She’s classy and sophisticated, so stop staring at her butt or I’ll gouge your eyes out.”

  The guy gave a nervous laugh and wiped the sweat from his brow. “J, relax. I wouldn’t disrespect you like that. I wasn’t checking out your sister. I was, ah, looking out the window.”

  “That better be all you’re looking at, or you’ll be sorry.”

  Conversation turned to boxing, and everyone spoke at once, but Marc tuned them out. He wanted to talk to Maya alone before he left for his meeting, and sensed this was his opportunity. Marc finished his wine cooler, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and pushed away from the table. “Javonte, thanks for lunch. You were right, man. It was delicious.”

  “You can’t leave. We haven’t had dessert yet—”

  Chauncey sucked his teeth. “Let Preppy Boy go,” he snarled, his lips curled into a sneer. “He doesn’t want to be here. He thinks he’s better than us.”

  I don’t think I’m better than you, Marc thought, glaring at the full-time jerk and part-time barber. I am better than you. I don’t mooch off my friends, and I always pay my own way.

  “Javonte, I’ll call you once I talk to Coach.”

  “Sounds good.”

  They bumped fists, and Marc exited the kitchen. Lunch had been the longest hour of his life, and he was anxious to return to his car, but he wasn’t leaving the estate until he spoke to Maya.

  Marching through the main floor, listening for the sound of her voice, he glanced around in search of her but couldn’t find her anywhere. The door at the end of the hallway creaked open. Maya poked her head out and waved him inside. Entering the bathroom, he noticed the bright and airy space had limestone countertops, mother-of-pearl wallpaper, and sports-themed artwork.

  “I can’t believe you’re here. What a wonderful surprise.” Resting a hand on his chest, she gave him a sweet, soft kiss on the lips. “I almost fainted when I walked into the media room and saw you sitting on the couch with my brother.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you’re Javonte Malone’s sister?”

  “Because it never came up,” she said, shrugging a shoulder. “Why are you mad?”

  “If Javonte finds out we slept together, he’ll go ballistic.”

  “He won’t find out. It’s our little secret.” Maya pressed a finger to his lips. “I won’t tell a soul, and neither will you. See? Problem solved.”

  Irked by her easy-breezy attitude, Marc paced the length of the room to blow off some steam. Maya chatted excitedly about their plans for the evening, but Marc wasn’t listening. He was thinking about Javonte. In his mind’s eye, he saw the defensive lineman tackling him to the floor and beating him to a pulp. Instinctively, he wiggled his nose and jaw to make sure everything was still intact.

  “In light of everything that’s going on with Javonte right now, it’s probably best we keep our relationship under wraps,” she said. “So I’ll meet you at Tribune Plaza at seven o’clock. I can’t wait. I haven’t been ice skating in years.”

  “Maya, we can’t go out tonight, or any night, for that matter.”

  She raised her eyebrows in a questioning slant, and puckered her lips.

  “Javonte will kill me if he finds out we hooked up, and I can’t lose him as a client.”

  “Then don’t say anything,” she whispered, draping her arms around his neck.

  Taking her arms from around his neck, he took a giant step back. He had to keep his distance or his resolve would crumble, and Marc didn’t want to disrespect Javonte in his home by kissing his kid sister. “We can’t hide our relationship from him forever.”

  A mischievous expression covered her face. “Are you planning to be around forever?”

  “Maya, this is serious. It’s not a laughing matter.”

  “But I cancelled my plans with my girlfriends tonight so I could see you.”

  Hearing the sadness in her voice pierced his heart. He thought he was doing the right thing by cancelling their date, so why did he feel worse, not better?

  Silence descended on the room, and the air was colder than the North Pole. The walls were closing in, and the distant sound of voices reminded Marc what was at stake. What he could lose if the truth got out. So he unlocked the door and took his car keys out of his pocket.

  “I have to go,” he said, with a sad smile. “Happy holidays, Maya, and all the best in the New Year. I hope you find great success as a fashion designer.”

  She laughed, realized he was serious, and slid in front of him, stopping him mid-stride. “You told me I was special, and that we had a strong connection. Did you just say that to get me into bed? Was that just a slick line to seal the deal?”

  “No. I meant everything I said last night. You’re an incredible woman, Maya, the complete package, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have feelings for you. I do.”

  “If that’s true, you wouldn’t be blowing me off.”

  Maya gave him a hopeful look, but when she touched his forearm Marc’s body tensed.

  “My brother is an NFL star. Big deal! Why does it matter?”

  “Because I’m his agent. If I’d known you were Javonte Malone’s sister, I wouldn’t have slept with you last night. I would have gone home alone instead of inviting you to my suite.”

  Her face fell, and a murderous expression darkened her big brown eyes, but she spoke in a quiet tone, as if she was feeling peaceful and Zen. “You’re right.” Her hoop earrings swung back and forth as she fervently nodded her head. “Last night was a mistake.”

  Mad at himself for upsetting her, he rested a hand on his chest to convey his regret and wore an apologetic smile. “Maya, I’m sorry. That came out wrong. That’s not what I meant.”

  “Yes, it is. That’s exactly what you meant.”

  “You’re putting words in my mouth.”

  “No, I’m not. I’m quite skilled at reading between the lines, and it’s obvious you regret sleeping with me, but don’t worry. It will never, ever happen again.”

  Maya blew past him, but Marc grabbed her arm and pulled her into his arms.

  “I didn’t mean it.”

  “Yes, you did, but that’s okay. Don’t sweat it,” she said, breaking free of his grasp. “You’re not the only handsome, successful guy in Chi-Town. There are plenty of other men who’d be proud to call me their girlfriend, and treat me like the queen I am. ”

  Brushing past him, Maya yanked open the bathroom door. Marc couldn’t stomach the thought of her with another man, and called out to her, asking her to stay so they could talk. Deaf to his pleas, she flew down the hallway, and Marc felt like a jerk for hurting her feelings.

  Chapter 6

  Water Tower Place was the most exclusive shopping area in the city, and Maya’s favorite place to shop. A tourist attraction, with upscale stores and restaurants, it had a chic, contemporary design and a vibrant atmosphere. Packed with holiday shoppers clutching coffee cups, shopping bags, and unruly children, Maya couldn’t move
without someone bumping into her.

  Swaying to the beat of the music, Maya sang along with her friends and snapped her fingers. Lyrical Soul had been hired to perform at the mall during the Christmas season, and as Liberty, Aquarius, and Eliza belted out the chorus of “Jingle Bells,” Maya noticed people were cheering, whistling, and clapping. Her friends were having fun onstage, and it showed. They were blowing kisses and dancing with people in the audience, and the crowd ate it up.

  Impressed with the huge turnout, Maya knew their afternoon show was going to be a hit, and hoped it would lead to more bookings for Lyrical Soul. Santa’s Magical Winter Wonderland was on the main floor of the mall, near the Jolly Express Train, and the bright, colorful set looked like something out of a Christmas book. Blue crystal snowflakes hung from the ceiling, ten-foot trees were elaborately decorated, and Mrs. Claus handed out candy canes to the children in the audience. The air smelled of pastries and apple cider, and the mouthwatering scent made Maya hanker for a sweet treat.

  A couple walked by, holding ice skates, and the smile slid off Maya’s lips. Last night had been a bust. Another boring, uneventful evening at home. Instead of going out on a date with Marc, she’d stayed home with Javonte and his friends, eating junk food and watching videos. Outgoing and friendly, her brother was more popular than a teen heartthrob, and every time Maya returned from a road trip with Lyrical Soul, his entourage was bigger. Everyone loved Javonte and wanted to get close to him—especially people from their old neighborhood. Unscrupulous characters were always popping up on their doorstep, and Maya had a feeling Chauncey Matthews was up to no good. Sure, he was athletic and attractive, but he mooched off her brother, which was a turnoff. Add to that, he lacked ambition and flirted with anyone in a skirt. Why couldn’t he be more like Marc, and less like himself?