The Perfect Present

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The Perfect Present Page 22

by Rochelle Alers


  At the thought of her dreamy one-night stand, her temperature rose and her nipples hardened under her plaid DKNY sweater dress. Being with him had felt right, as natural as breathing. Maya wished Javonte wasn’t controlling, and overprotective of her. Wished he treated her like a twenty-eight-year-old woman instead of like a teenager. If he wasn’t so stubborn and hardheaded, she’d tell him she was romantically interested in Marc, but experience had taught her not to confide in her brother about her love life. He couldn’t handle it. In his eyes, she was still a little girl, and although Maya hated it when he babied her, she loved him dearly, and she couldn’t have asked for a better brother.

  Maya felt someone tug on the sleeve of her dress, and turned around.

  A boy with short black hair and dark brown skin rubbed at his eyes. “I’m lost,” he said, shifting and shuffling his sneaker-clad feet. “Can you help me find my uncle?”

  Concerned, she crouched down and smiled sympathetically at the distraught child. “Sure, I can help you. What’s your name?”

  Tears spilled down his cheek, but he wiped them away. “Tyson Daniels.”

  “How old are you?”

  He held up his hands. “Six. I go to Legacy Charter School. My teacher’s name is Mr. Villanueva, but we call him Scrooge because he never gives us candy . . .”

  Maya smirked. The boy was so articulate and well-spoken, she found it hard to believe he was in the first grade. To hear him over the noise of the crowd, Maya moved closer, and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Tyson, when did you last see your uncle?”

  “I-I-I don’t remember,” he stammered, scratching his head. “We were looking at games in Toys‘R’Us, and when I turned around he was gone. Poof! Like a puff of smoke.”

  Swallowing a laugh, Maya gestured to the escalators. “Let’s go upstairs to the customer service desk. They’ll be able to help us find your uncle.”

  “I’m hungry.” Tyson licked his lips and patted his stomach. “Can I please have some milk and cookies first? I haven’t had lunch yet, and I’m starving.”

  Clasping his hand, Maya led the first-grader over to the snack table, and introduced him to Mrs. Claus. He filled his plate with cookies and grabbed a juice box. Tyson was polite and courteous, and Maya laughed as he chatted excitedly about his plans for the Christmas holidays.

  “Did you write your list, and mail it to Santa at the North Pole?”

  “Yes. I’ve been a really good boy this year, and now it’s time for Santa to pay up!” Tyson guzzled down his apple juice, then helped himself to a fourth cookie. “I want a tablet, a new PlayStation, a Spiderman desk, some WWE action figures, and a treehouse.”

  Amused, Maya asked Tyson what his parents thought of his Christmas list, but when she heard a deep, male voice behind her she broke off speaking and glanced around.

  “There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  Tyson took off running, and launched himself in the air at a tall, muscled man with short black hair and chiseled features. Her tongue froze inside her mouth. Marc, the guy who’d romanced her on Friday night, then insulted her hours later at Javonte’s estate, appeared out of nowhere. Talk about a stroke of bad luck, Maya thought.

  As she stared at the pair, a lightbulb went off in her mind. This was no coincidence. No chance encounter. Maya smelled a setup, and when Marc approached her, holding Tyson in his arms, her frown deepened. His gaze held her captive, but she rolled her eyes to the ceiling to prove she was immune to his charms. Though, when he spoke to her, her body quivered.

  “It’s great seeing you again, Maya. You’re looking as lovely as ever.”

  His voice tickled her ears, and goose bumps exploded across her arms. What’s the matter with me? she thought, swallowing hard. Why are my knees knocking together? Her makeup was impeccable, every hair was in place, and her fit-and-flare dress accentuated her curves, but her confidence withered under his smoldering gaze.

  “Thanks for finding Tyson. I was worried sick.”

  Marc was insanely hot, with a body made for sin, and her hands longed to reunite with his toned physique. Phew. So much sexy. Dressed in a wool jacket, black turtleneck, and dark blue jeans, it was no surprise the women standing nearby were ogling him, too.

  “Is Tyson actually your nephew, or did you rent him for the day?”

  The first-grader giggled. “Uncle Marc didn’t rent me!” he argued, fervently shaking his head, his eyes big and wide. “I’m his favorite nephew.”

  “Of course you are. You’re my only nephew.”

  Chuckling, Marc put him down and gave him a one-arm hug. “My sister, Kingsley, is engaged to Tyson’s dad, and now we’re all one big happy family.”

  “No, we’re not. My mom hates your sister, your mom hates my dad, and Grandma Phyllis said it’ll be a cold day in hell before she lets them get married—”

  Marc cupped a hand over the first-grader’s mouth. “Kids. They say the craziest things sometimes, especially this one. He has absolutely no filter.”

  Maya laughed, but remembered Marc was the enemy and clamped her lips together. Damn him. Why does he have to be so funny ? she thought, mad at herself for letting her guard down. Doesn’t he know I’m mad at him ? That I want nothing to do with him ?

  Her friends appeared at her side, and introduced themselves to Marc. He complimented them on their performance and their fashionable dresses, but his eyes never left Maya’s face. His piercing gaze put her on edge, and her palms were damp with sweat.

  “Tyson and I are going to the food court to have lunch,” Marc announced. “Would you lovely ladies care to join us?”

  “We’d love to!” Liberty stepped forward and linked arms with Marc. “I worked up quite an appetite during our set, and all I could think about was a cheeseburger!”

  Laughing, the group meandered through the mall toward the escalators. It amused Maya to watch Marc with her friends, and although she kept her distance from him, she was dying to know what he was saying. Was he talking about her? Was he sorry about yesterday? Had he come to the mall to see her?

  As they passed a specialty store, Marc stopped and gestured to the front window. “My dad used to have a telescope like that, and we’d look at birds, and stare at the sky for hours. I lost interest in the telescope when I was a teenager, but I never forgot those times with my dad.”

  Her girlfriends stared at him with stars in their eyes, and Maya knew they were touched by his confession, too. To keep her mind off Marc and the conversation he was having with her friends, she chatted with Tyson. He was a sweet, likable kid, and by the time they reached the food court, Maya knew all about his love of video games, Pokémon, and hockey. After much debate, the group decided to eat at a fusion-style restaurant, with large tables and low-hanging lights, and bubbly, friendly staff decked out in elf costumes.

  Conversation around the table was lively, and the Christmas music playing in the restaurant created a festive mood. Having fun with her friends and Marc, she answered his questions about her fashion line, Luxe Designs, and her long-term goals for the business.

  “Have you ever considered buying a fashion truck?” Marc asked.

  “A fashion truck?” Maya repeated. “I’ve never heard of it. What is it?”

  “Like a food truck, but with clothes instead of sandwiches and cold drinks. I’ve seen them in Montreal and London, and they seem to be real popular with millennials. With your personality and your unique, eye-catching designs, you’d make a killing if you had a fashion truck downtown or at one of the tourist hot spots.”

  “Wow, Marc, what a great idea,” Eliza praised, flashing a thumbs-up. “I love it!”

  Maya took a sip of her apple cider. Marc had certainly given her something to think about, and the more she considered his suggestion, the more excited she was about the idea of owning a fashion truck. First thing tomorrow, she’d call the Better Business Bureau to inquire about it, and she hoped someone would be able to point her in the right direction.

&nb
sp; “I finished my burger, and I drank all of my water.” Tyson tapped Marc’s shoulder, then shook it with all his might. “Uncle Marc, I’m done. Can we go to Dairy Queen now?”

  “Not now, buddy. I’m talking to Maya—”

  “But you said if I helped you find her you’d buy me chocolate ice cream,” he whined.

  Maya smirked behind her napkin. Out of the mouths of babes!

  “We’ll take you,” Aquarius offered. “Let’s go.”

  “Come on, Tyson. Follow me.” Standing, Eliza fluffed her honey-blond curls and tucked her clutch purse under her arm. “You too, chiquita.”

  Liberty shook her head. “No way. I’m staying here. I’m tired.”

  “You’re not tired. You’re nosy,” Aquarius quipped, tapping her stilettos impatiently on the floor. “If you don’t come, I’m telling everyone about your mishap on the escalator yesterday.”

  “Coming!” Liberty surged to her feet and dragged Aquarius away from the table.

  Alone with Marc now, Maya didn’t know what to say, and stared down at her cranberry spinach salad. It was so much easier to talk to him when her friends were around. They were fun, and chatty, and kept the conversation going when her nerves got the best of her. Like right now. “Tyson is a great kid.”

  “Yeah, when he’s not running his mouth!”

  Laughing, Maya picked up her glass, raised it to her lips, and sipped her cider.

  “I promised myself I’d stay away from you, but I can’t get you out of my mind . . .”

  His hands skimmed her knee, warming her all over.

  “Is that why you bribed Tyson to trick me?” she asked.

  “Yes. I couldn’t risk Chauncey, or one of your brother’s teammates, making a move on you. Not when I have strong feelings for you.”

  Maya pressed her lips together to trap a gasp inside.

  “I can’t stop thinking about you,” he continued. “And I’m mad at myself for hurting your feelings yesterday. I was angry, and upset, and I wasn’t thinking straight. Do you forgive me?”

  Yes . . . No . . . I don’t know. I’m confused, Maya thought, biting her bottom lip. At a loss for words, her mind reeling from Marc’s jaw-dropping confession, she slowly nodded her head. “Marc, what are you saying? What do you want from me?”

  “I want to date you.”

  His cell buzzed, but instead of picking it up off the table, he moved closer to her.

  “I want to take you ice-skating, and dancing, and out for dinner at fancy French restaurants I can’t spell, or pronounce.”

  The sound of his deep, hearty chuckle made Maya laugh. Her smile returned, and the butterflies in her stomach disappeared. Weighing the pros and cons of dating Marc on the down-low and telling Javonte the truth about her relationship, she decided to trust her gut. As much as she wanted to confide in her brother, she knew she couldn’t—not if she wanted Marc to live. Javonte had an explosive temper, and Maya feared what would happen if he knew she’d hooked up with Marc at the Peninsula Hotel.

  “Marc, I’d like that,” she said, a shy smile tickling the corners of her lips. “I enjoy your company, and I want to get to know you better.”

  “How do you think we should handle things with Javonte?” Marc asked, as if reading her mind. “I can talk to him before he leaves for New Orleans, or I can wait until he gets back. What do you think is best?”

  “None of the above. The less Javonte knows about us the better.”

  “Are you sure? He’s one of my favorite clients, and I don’t want to deceive him.”

  “I’m positive. It would be a huge mistake coming clean to him now. We just met.”

  Marc raised an eyebrow. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “In my experience, most men would rather play the field than commit.”

  “Not me. My grandparents got hitched after dating for a year, and my mom and dad eloped for their six-month anniversary. Both couples were happily married for decades, so I know that true love exists,” he said, meeting her gaze. “Cunningham men are bold and decisive, and when we find the right woman, we waste no time committing to her.”

  Moved by his words, Maya leaned forward in her seat. His voice was as soothing as a gentle caress, drawing her in, holding her captive. Her heart and mind were telling her that Marc was special, the kind of man she could grow old with, but after a disastrous dating history and a broken engagement, Maya knew she had to be wise. Couldn’t fall hard and fast. “Let’s give it some more time,” she proposed. “If we’re still going strong in the New Year, then we’ll sit Javonte down and talk to him together.”

  Marc kissed her, catching her off guard, but it was a wonderful surprise. His lips brushing against hers caused shivers to careen down her spine. “I have big plans for you this week.”

  Happiness ballooned inside her chest. “Well?” she prompted, playfully batting her eyelashes. “Don’t keep me in suspense. What are we doing?”

  “Tomorrow we’re going to Winter WonderFest, for tobogganing, winter mini-golf, and ice-skating,” he explained, taking her hand in his and giving it a light squeeze. “On Tuesday we’re going to Brew Lights, and on Friday we’re going to the Mistletoe Bash.”

  Feeling warm and giddy inside, Maya beamed.

  His smile was dreamy, his excitement was contagious, and this time when Marc brushed his mouth against her lips, Maya melted in his arms. His tender caress, along her shoulders and hips, put her in an amorous mood, and it took every ounce of self-control she had not to climb onto his lap, hike up her dress, and ride him until he exploded inside her.

  “I can’t get enough of you,” he whispered, nipping at her bottom lip. “You’re addictive.”

  His grip tightened around her waist, and Maya sighed inwardly. She loved his closeness, his warmth, couldn’t get enough of him. Eager to create wonderful new memories with the only man to ever capture her heart with just one kiss, Maya surrendered to the needs of her flesh, and devoured his mouth.

  Chapter 7

  Titan Management was a stone’s throw away from the United Center, and as Marc entered the attractive brick building on Monday morning, the first things he noticed were the extravagant Christmas decorations in the lobby. Icicles dangled from the ceiling, miniature trees were adorned with colored ornaments, and velvet stockings lined the windowsill. The scent of cinnamon was so heavy in the air, his mouth watered and his stomach growled.

  Pressed for time, Marc grabbed his messages from the blue-eyed receptionist and marched through the lobby. Sultry lights, leather bucket chairs, and mounted flat-screen TVs made the room look more like a sports bar than a reception area. Clients played video games, scarfed down sugar cookies, and were gathered around the espresso station, shooting the breeze. Seeing the framed photographs, autographed jerseys, and Business of the Year plaques hanging on the sable-brown walls gave Marc a rush of pride. He’d been with the award-winning agency for years, and if during the holidays he signed another superstar athlete worth millions, he was confident he’d be named vice president in the New Year.

  Marc heard his cell phone ring and fished it out of his jacket pocket. His eyes narrowed. Why did Sloane keep calling him? Couldn’t she take a hint? A text message from Maya popped up on the screen, and Marc grinned. Great. She’d cancelled her plans with her girlfriends for tonight. Pleased Maya wasn’t going to a house party in her old neighborhood, he sighed in relief. She was spending the night with him, not on the South Side, and Marc couldn’t wait to see her.

  Sunlight splashed through the windows, filling the corridor with warmth and light, instantly brightening his mood. That morning at his breakfast meeting, one of his clients had given him tickets for the movie premiere of Christmas in Monte Carlo, and he’d asked Maya to be his date. He was going to go all out tonight—flowers, a chauffeured limo. Afterwards, they’d have dinner at a Greek restaurant, then return to his house for a nightcap—and more. Just the thought of her excited him. Maya was a passionate, sensuous woman, and makin
g love to her was his new favorite pastime. Forget meeting his boys at the pub after work for beers, wings, and basketball; he was going to the theater with his girlfriend, and there was nowhere else he’d rather be. They’d been inseparable for the past two weeks. They’d attended local events, driven around the city checking out fashion trucks for sale, and hung out at his house, baking, watching Christmas movies, and making love whenever the mood struck. And, since Javonte was out of town with some of his teammates, frolicking in the Cayman Islands, Maya could spend the night at his place without her brother grilling her about where she was.

  Thirsty, Marc stopped in the staff room for a drink. Fitness magazines covered the tables, potted plants filled the air with a refreshing scent, and the stainless steel refrigerator was stocked with everything from sandwiches to fruit, and beer.

  His cell rang, and Marc glanced down at it. Damn. Why was Sloane blowing up his phone again? How many times did he have to tell her they were through? That he had a girlfriend? Before meeting Maya, he’d dated a bevy of beauties, but after he and Maya had spent a romantic three-day weekend in Rockford, he’d cut everyone else loose. Had told his friends and family he was officially off the market. Maya was the only woman he wanted, and even though his boys teased him mercilessly about being whipped, he’d never been happier. He’d found everything he’d ever wanted in a partner in Maya, and he wasn’t going to lose her by screwing around, or playing mind games. She was it for him, and he needed her in his life.

  Marc grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl and finished it in seconds. As he poured himself a cup of coffee, his eyes caught sight of the TV, and his mouth dried. ESPN was doing a segment on the NFL, and when Javonte’s image filled the screen, guilt pricked his conscience. Tonight, he’d talk to Maya about coming clean to her brother. It was time. He was too old to be sneaking around with her, and he hated deceiving his favorite client. More importantly, he wanted the world to know—especially Javonte’s entourage and teammates—that Maya was taken. Proud to have her on his arm, he wanted to take her to industry events and work functions, and hoped after he spoke to the footballer man-to-man he’d give them his blessing.

 

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