The Perfect Present

by Rochelle Alers

  Encouraged by his thoughts, Marc picked up his mug and exited the staff room. Passing several of his colleagues in the hallway, he nodded and smiled. He didn’t have time to chitchat. Not when he was booked solid. Marc had a full day ahead of him, and there was no way in hell he was working late tonight. He had plans with Maya, and nothing mattered more to him than spending time with his girlfriend.

  Dumping his leather satchel on a padded chair in his office, Marc glanced up and was shocked to see his boss seated behind his desk, puffing on a cigar. Thirty pounds overweight, with tinted eyeglasses and salt-and-pepper hair, the Brooklyn native bore an uncanny resemblance to Samuel L. Jackson, and had the attitude to match. Marc felt like an intruder in his own office, but Mr. Frederick waved him inside and said, “Get in here, son. We need to talk.”

  “Sure, sir, is everything okay?”

  “That depends. Who is she, and how serious are you about her?”

  Eyes wide, his mouth ajar, he felt a cold chill flood his body. Marc wouldn’t have been more surprised if an elf had popped out of the closet, singing “Santa Baby.” How does Mr. Frederick know I have a girlfriend? Who told him I’m dating Maya? He’d been discreet, hadn’t told anyone about her except his family, and couldn’t figure out how his secret had gotten out. Marc coughed into his fist, but the lump in his throat remained.

  “Out with it,” Mr. Frederick snapped. “Who is she?”

  “Sir, I don’t know what you’re—”

  “Don’t sir me, and quit playing dumb. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

  Annoyed, Marc swallowed a curse and slid his hands into his pockets. He didn’t like Mr. Frederick’s tone. His attitude. His pissed-off vibe. But he didn’t wither under the New Yorker’s cold, dark stare. “I give a hundred percent to my clients, day in and day out.”

  “True,” he conceded with a nod. “But you haven’t been to happy hour in weeks, and you don’t answer your cell phone in the evenings anymore . . .”

  That’s because my evenings are for Maya now, he thought, as images of his girlfriend filled his mind. She challenged his way of thinking, made him laugh out loud, and brought out the best in him. Her thoughtfulness and compassion had not only renewed his faith in the opposite sex, but changed him for the better. Life was about more than making money and partying with his clients, and these days he’d rather spend time with his family than hit the clubs. He valued Maya’s opinion, appreciated her sound advice, and couldn’t recall ever being this smitten with a woman, not even his ex-wife, and they were together for years.

  “Worst of all, Alexis Ray said she invited you to her penthouse for drinks on Saturday night, and you shot her down. What’s that about? Have you lost your ever-loving mind? She’s stunning, with a body that doesn’t quit, and a three-time Wimbledon champion.”

  His boss was a riot, unintentionally entertaining, and Marc had to swallow a laugh every time Mr. Frederick wagged his finger in the air and rubbed his round, protruding belly.

  “Alexis Ray is the highest paid tennis player in the world, and I want her to sign with Titan Management, so quit blowing her off, and close the deal before one of our rivals swoops in and steals her away.”

  “I don’t believe in mixing business with pleasure.”

  “Since when?” Mr. Frederick barked a laugh, and his double chin quivered. “You didn’t mind mixing business with pleasure to sign Olympic gymnast Dominique Rowe.”

  Embarrassed by his past transgressions, Marc wished he could turn back the hands of time. His ego had taken a hit when his wife filed for divorce, and he’d foolishly hooked up with a client. A year later, he still regretted the choices he’d made in his career.

  “You’ve dated other clients on your roster as well,” his boss pointed out.

  “People change.”

  “You don’t. You’re a player, and women love you, especially our female clients.”

  “Mr. Frederick, I have a girlfriend now, and I’d never do anything to disrespect her.”

  The grin slid off his boss’s face, and his bushy eyebrows climbed up his forehead.

  Marc noticed Mr. Frederick was gripping the armrest, and straightened to his full height. He wasn’t going to let his boss intimidate him. Not when he’d done nothing wrong. He wasn’t going out with Alexis Ray, and if his boss didn’t like it that was too damn bad. He was 100 percent committed to Maya, and he wasn’t going to blow things with her by hooking up with a potential client—not even a woman his colleagues drooled over.

  “Date whoever you want, but whatever you do, don’t fall in love.”

  His boss’s words gave him pause, something to think about. Three months ago, he never would have considered settling down with one woman, let alone getting married again, but Marc liked the idea of spending the rest of his life with Maya, and couldn’t picture himself with anyone else. Crazy, considering he’d been burned by love before, but everything about Maya appealed to him, and every day she taught him something new. On Friday, it was how to make the perfect omelet, on Saturday it was how to do the Downward Dog while they did yoga in his home gym, and yesterday she’d helped him finish the New York Times crossword puzzle. In three short weeks, she’d become his best friend, and when they were apart Maya was all he could think about. Like right now. His boss was talking, but his thoughts were a million miles away and his girlfriend was the reason why.

  “Love’s bad for business,” Mr. Frederick said, taking a puff of his cigar.

  “Bad for business? But you’ve been happily married for years.”

  “That’s because Rosa-Ann is one in a million. She loves me, in sickness and in health, and there’s nothing in the world she wouldn’t do for me, or our three sons . . .”

  A grin overwhelmed Marc’s mouth. Listening to his boss gush about his wife, he realized Maya and Mrs. Frederick were cut from the same cloth. That’s why he wanted to spend all of his free time with her, why he thought about her nonstop, and why he’d cut loose every other girl weeks ago. Maya was it for him, and he was ready to introduce her to his family. In his mother’s eyes, no one would ever be good enough for him, but he wanted a future with Maya and hoped his mother would welcome her into the family with open arms.

  “Sir, I don’t mean to be rude,” Marc said, noting the time on the wall clock. “But I have a conference call within the hour with Adidas, and I need to review my notes before I speak to the president about a potential endorsement deal for Javonte Malone.”

  “Fine, I won’t keep you.” Standing, his cigar dangling from his thin lips, he strode around the desk and clapped Marc on the back. “One more thing. I want you to plan the anniversary bash.”

  “But I plan it every year,” he pointed out. “It’s time I give someone else at the agency the opportunity to shine. If I don’t, everyone will hate me!”

  His joke fell flat, and the scowl on Mr. Frederick’s face deepened.

  “Why mess with a winning formula? You’re the most popular agent at Titan Management, and when our clients hear you’re throwing one of your legendary parties, they’ll come out in droves, and bring their rich friends and teammates. Cha-ching!”

  “Sebastian has tons of great ideas for the event—”

  His face hardened. “Sebastian’s no longer with the agency.”

  Shock reverberated through Marc’s brain. “He quit? Why? Sebastian loves it here, and his clients practically worship the ground he walks on.”

  “He didn’t quit. I canned his sorry ass.”

  Marc’s eyes widened and his ears perked up.

  “Insubordination is something I won’t tolerate at Titan Management, so I fired him.”

  At a loss for words, Marc leaned against his desk to support his shaky legs.

  “If you sign Alexis Ray, you could be my new VP. Wouldn’t that be something?”

  “Yes, sir,” he said, reclaiming his voice. “That would be an honor.”

  “Good, then plan a kick-ass party that makes me the envy of all my com
petitors . . .”

  Marc heard his cell ring, knew it was Maya calling from the sound of the Rihanna ringtone, but he didn’t take his iPhone out of his pocket. He couldn’t think, let alone talk, and knew he’d have to splash some cold water on his face before his one o’clock conference call. Torn between pleasing his boss and following his heart, Marc struggled over what to do. His job was on the line, and his reputation, and if he wanted to be vice president of Titan Management, he’d have to find a way to sign Alexis Ray without compromising his integrity.

  “I want it all.” Talking with his hands, Mr. Frederick spoke with an animated expression on his face. “Champagne, celebrities, exotic dancers, and fireworks. Spare no expense, son. Go all out.”

  “What date do you have in mind?”

  “New Year’s Eve, of course.”

  Bewildered, Marc closed his gaping mouth and shook his head. “I can’t plan the anniversary bash in three weeks. This will take months of planning.”

  “You can, and you will. I have complete faith in you, son.”

  Marc groaned inwardly. Damn. Could this day get any worse? Tugging at his shirt collar, he hid his frustration by speaking in a lighthearted tone of voice. “What’s the rush? Our anniversary isn’t for another month.”

  “I know, but those jerks at Sports for Life are throwing a New Year’s Eve bash at Clinique Nightclub, and I won’t let them outshine me. Anything they can do, I can do better.”

  Marc’s shoulders sagged and his spirits plummeted. He had plans with Maya on New Year’s Eve. Big plans. He’d bought tickets for the New Year’s Eve black-tie party, booked a limo and the presidential suite at the Peninsula Hotel. In honor of the event, Maya was making her own gown, and Marc knew she’d be disappointed if he cancelled on her, which is exactly what his boss wanted him to do. Drop everything for work. It felt as if a pinecone was stuck in his throat, and heartburn spread through his chest like fire. Marc was bummed that he couldn’t spend his favorite holiday with his girlfriend, but he said, “I’ll get right on it.”

  “That’s just what I wanted to hear.” His boss chuckled. “And remember, this is an exclusive event. No wives, no kids, and absolutely no girlfriends. What happens at Titan Management on New Year’s Eve stays at Titan Management. Understood?”

  Marc nodded, but guilt troubled his conscience. Watching Mr. Frederick march out of the office door, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d just made a deal with the Devil.

  Chapter 8

  Maya sat in the darkened auditorium of the Rosemont Theatre, listening to the soul-stirring music, riveted by the performers dancing across the stage. Marc clasped her hand, squeezing it, and Maya snuggled against him. Hours earlier, he’d picked her up at home and greeted her with a kiss that instantly made her wet. Horny. Aroused, she’d considered dragging him inside the house for a quickie, but she remembered they were going to see The Hip Hop Nutcracker and had broken off the kiss. After a year of being single, it felt great having someone to spend time with on her days off, and Marc was everything she’d ever wanted in a boyfriend, and more.

  Escorting her to his car, he’d showered her with compliments, telling her repeatedly how stunning she looked in her gold backless dress. Being with Marc was a heady, mind-blowing feeling. Quick to laugh, Marc was always the most popular person in the room, and although his cell rang nonstop, he never made her feel insecure or jealous. He doted on her, and thanks to Marc she’d fallen in love with the holiday season all over again.

  As the musical ended, her thoughts returned to their dream date last Saturday. They’d driven to a popular downtown restaurant that attracted a young, chic crowd. Sophisticated, yet inviting, Jerk Hut was Maya’s favorite Caribbean restaurant in the city. Filled with dark wood, colorful paintings, and candlelight, the décor evoked feelings of calm, and live jazz music and poetry readings added to the romantic ambience. They’d shared a bottle of wine, and Maya’s entrée had tasted so good she’d eaten with a smile on her face. Even better than her three-course meal was her conversation with Marc. A great listener, with a quick smile and a calm disposition, he was easy to open up to about her hopes and dreams for the future.

  Stroking his forearm, Maya studied his handsome profile. It was hard to believe they’d only known each other for a month; it felt like they’d been dating for years. He was never too busy to call her or text her, and Maya beamed every time his name and number popped up on her screen. She looked forward to their dates, never knew what to expect when he picked her up after work, but was guaranteed a good time with the hunky sports agent. One night he took her bowling, the next to the opera, or they’d hang out at his house, cooking, playing board games, and watching old Christmas movies. Yesterday, they’d donned their ugliest, flashiest sweaters and headed to Portage Park to take part in the five-mile charity run. Marc had won, and they’d celebrated his first-place win with their friends at a nearby pub. They’d laughed at the same jokes, finished each other’s sentences, and had fed each other dessert. Liberty had teased them for acting like an old married couple, but Maya didn’t take offense and had laughed louder than anyone. It was true. She was smitten with Marc, and proud to be his girlfriend. Marc knew when to let go, when to take charge, and he was impressed—not intimidated—by her strength.

  “Are you having a good time?” he whispered, glancing at her.

  “The best. The music is incredible.”

  His eyes brightened, and a proud smile curled his lips. “I knew you’d like it. My sister got us tickets for the show last year, and we danced and rapped all night.”

  The performers took a bow, and the lights came on in the auditorium, but the young, energetic crowd continued to sing and dance. The audience cheered long after the cast left the stage, and Maya giggled when Marc pulled her into his arms and dipped her, drawing the attention of every woman in the room. Seeing their envious looks, Maya felt proud.

  Exiting the auditorium, hand in hand, they strolled outside into the crisp winter night, talking and laughing about their favorite parts of the ninety-minute show. Starving, they decided to have dinner at one of the restaurants along Park Place, and ducked inside Seven Lounge.

  At Seven Lounge, the hostess escorted them to a booth positioned in front of the window. The restaurant had an elegant black and gold color scheme, and Maya loved the holiday décor, the vanilla-scented candles on the table, and the comfy red cushions in their corner booth.

  Snowflakes fell from the sky, blanketing the streets in snow. The wind howled, and it looked like a winter wonderland outside, but thanks to the fireplace Maya felt warm and cozy. They placed their orders with the blond, suit-clad waiter, then chatted about their day while they waited for their appetizers to arrive.

  “Guess what?” Maya said, feeling as if she’d burst with happiness. “Lyrical Soul’s been added to the list of performers for the New Year’s Eve black-tie bash. Isn’t that awesome? Thousands of tickets have been sold, and tons of A-list celebrities will be there.”

  “Baby, that’s great. The more people who see outfits from your fashion line the better.” Marc kissed her forehead. “This is the big break you’ve been waiting for. I can feel it.”

  “You sound like Javonte.”

  “Your brother’s right. You’re talented, creative, and hardworking, and it’s just a matter of time before you’re a household name in the fashion world.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “I meant what I said earlier, Maya. If you need financial help, just say the word and I’ll write you a check. I believe in you, and I’ll do anything to support your vision.”

  “Marc, I appreciate the offer, but I can’t take your money. I want to make it as a designer by my own merit, not because my brother or my boyfriend paid my way.”

  “Ripping up that check Javonte gave you took a lot of guts, Maya.”

  “My friends think I’m crazy, but it was the right thing to do. Javonte’s been giving me money for years, and it’s time I quit l
iving off him and stand on my own two feet,” she said, speaking from the heart. “I want to get my own place, purchase a fashion truck, and maybe even live in Paris for the summer.”

  The light went out in Marc’s eyes, but he wore a broad smile. “Why not? You only live once, right?” His voice was flat, and his expression was wary, full of concern. “What does Javonte think about your plan? Is he on board?”

  “No,” she said, fiddling with the silver bangles on her wrist. “I mentioned it to him a few days ago, while he was packing for his trip, but he totally brushed me off. He said I wasn’t savvy enough to travel alone, but I am, and I will.”

  “Maybe I should come with you. You know, to make sure everything’s copacetic.”

  “Yeah, right. As if. You’re a big-time sports agent with dozens of superstar clients.”

  “I’ll take a leave of absence, and we’ll travel together next summer.” Marc took her hand, lowered his mouth, and kissed her palm. “I’ve always wanted to see the City of Lights, and there’s no one else in this world I’d rather go to Paris with than you.”

  Maya wanted to throw herself in his arms and kiss him passionately, but she tamped down her excitement. Was this for real? Was Marc serious? Maya studied him for several seconds. He looked serious, but his offer was too good to be true, and Maya didn’t want to get her hopes up. She loved the idea of traveling with him, but she knew it would never happen. How could it? He had clients to manage, and millions of dollars to make for his agency.

  “After dinner, we’ll go to my place and discuss it further,” Marc suggested.

  “Baby, I want to, but I can’t stay out late tonight. Lyrical Soul is performing at Covenant Nursing Home tomorrow, and I still have to plan their hairstyles and select their wardrobe.”

  Moving closer to her, he draped an arm around her shoulders. “Maya, I understand.”

  His voice was soft and soothing, causing her to instantly fall under his spell.