Diamond Dreams

by Zuri Day

  “Jackson!” Diamond called to his rapidly retreating back. But without a backward glance he was up the steps and through the door. Diamond marched up the stairs in her bare feet ready to demand an answer and, considering what they’d both just experienced, a more proper goodbye. No matter what the person on the phone had just told him, how could he just up and leave like she was already yesterday’s news? “Jackson!” she called out again as she entered the large warehouse. She hurried down the aisle toward the double doors, but as she neared the front of the building, her eyes told her what her heart already knew…he was gone.

  Chapter 14

  Jackson reached the Boss Construction parking lot and swerved into his reserved space. The thirty minutes that it had taken him to reach the office—when under the legal speed limit it would have taken at least forty-five—had done nothing to cool his ire. He’d mentally kicked himself for not answering the phone earlier and potentially putting both his valued assistant and his business in even more danger. It wasn’t like he was an eighteen-year-old teenager with raging hormones. Why hadn’t he answered his phone when he’d heard it vibrating through his jeans on the cement floor? He knew the reason. Because his head had been between Diamond’s delicious legs, and his singular focus after that had been to place his dick there.

  The elevator couldn’t come soon enough, and once it reached the Boss offices on the thirty-story building’s top floor, Jackson’s long strides quickly ate up the distance between the lobby and the spacious corner offices with spectacular views of the Pacific Ocean on one side and downtown San Diego on the other. Once Jackson entered, however, he didn’t see the illustrious tableau that painters would envy. The first thing he saw was a still-shaken Marissa sitting on the couch and his attorney, Abe Swartz, occupying one of the wingbacked chairs opposite her. Both stood when Jackson entered, and Marissa raced to his side.

  “Where were you?” she asked, while in an uncharacteristic show of emotion she flung her arms around Jackson’s waist. “I was so afraid.” In this moment, Jackson knew that whatever had happened in his office was more serious than a threatening letter. “I hope you don’t mind that I called Mr. Swartz,” Marissa continued, nervously twisting the ring on her right hand. “But I didn’t want to involve the police before speaking with you. I didn’t know what else to do.”

  Jackson took a step and placed a hand on Marissa’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I didn’t get your calls from the beginning. I was…in a meeting, and my phone was on vibrate. You did the right thing in waiting until I got here.” Jackson reached over and shook Abe’s hand. “Guys, come into my office.” Once there and seated, he looked back at Marissa. “Now, tell me again exactly what happened.”

  Marissa took a deep breath as she prepared to repeat what she’d shared via telephone as Jackson raced down the I-15. “I went to lunch around twelve-thirty, and when I got back, I noticed that Gia wasn’t at the receptionist desk. This was strange only because we’d talked before I left and she’d said that she was working through lunch so that she could take off at four for her daughter’s dentist appointment. I didn’t think too much about it until I came back here, inserted my key and found the door already unlocked.”

  Jackson sat forward. “You’re sure the door was unlocked.”

  “Positive.”

  “Was it open?”

  “No, the door was closed, but it was definitely unlocked. That dead bolt has a distinctive click, plus if I don’t put my key in just the right way, it sometimes sticks. I’d barely put my key in when I turned the knob and the door opened.”

  Jackson looked around the office. Everything seemed to be in its rightful place. “Were any of the file cabinets opened?”

  Marissa shook her head.

  “Anything missing that you can see?”

  “No.”

  Jackson took a breath and eyed Marissa with a serious expression. “Are you sure you locked the door?”

  Marissa shot out of her chair and began to pace the room. “Of course I’m sure, Boss! How many times have you told me to be sure to lock up? You’ve reiterated how costly it could be if some of the information on upcoming projects got into the wrong hands. I locked the door and then double-checked it, as always. It. Was. Locked!”

  “All right, Marissa. I know this is alarming, but you’ve got to calm down. We have a situation, but since it looks like nothing was taken, I don’t get why you’re so upset.”

  “It’s because of the information she didn’t share with you,” Abe interrupted. “I told her to wait until you got here so you could see for yourself.”

  The hairs on the back of Jackson’s neck stood up. “See what?”

  “This,” Marissa said, motioning him out of his office and over to her cubicle, which was just outside his door.

  Jackson rounded the corner of the wood-and-glass enclosure that afforded Marissa a modicum of privacy and saw the shattered glass that was once her computer screen, along with the bullet holes that riddled the area around it.

  While still trying to take in the shock of someone firing a weapon in his office, Abe walked up and silently handed him a slip of paper. “This was placed on Marissa’s chair.”

  Jackson glanced at Abe and took the piece of paper. His heart caught as he read the words that had been written with one of his assistant’s markers: The next bullet has your name on it. And as you can see, there will be no stopping me when I’m ready to 187 your no good snitch ass.

  Snitch? This definitely sounded like a word from his former life. But who from those years so long ago would want to threaten him now? And why? Jackson looked up in time to see Marissa’s eyes flutter close. He didn’t have to ask whether or not she’d read the note. “I’m sorry you had to find all of this,” he said to her softly, his voice filled with compassion. “But I’m glad you weren’t here when…whoever did this came by.” He now totally understood her earlier outburst and felt like a heel for having been enjoying a little bit of heaven while his assistant was going through hell. Very few knew just how much turmoil his assistant had endured, why he’d hired her as his assistant with virtually no secretarial experience and why, after a painful incident she went through a few months ago, he was even more protective. Even fewer people in the present circles he traveled knew about Jackson’s past. At first he’d hidden it to fit in with the private-school kids, and now he hid it because he felt it was no one’s business. It was a part of his life that he wasn’t proud of but also the part that caused the insecurity: having to fend for himself from the age of seven, not having a father or mother to guide these early, formative years and falling into a crowd whose machismo was often judged by how many pounds of crack you’d sold, places you’d robbed or people you’d killed. He’d left his old life more than a decade ago but at times still felt like he didn’t belong to the life he’d fully embraced once he turned sixteen. “I’m sorry,” he said again, knowing these words were not enough. But for now, they would have to do. “Let’s go back into my office.”

  The three of them returned to Jackson’s office, where he shut the door. “No one heard gunshots?” he asked Marissa.

  She shook her head.

  “I’m sure a silencer was used,” Abe said.

  Jackson nodded, his mind whirling with thoughts of who was behind the increasingly ominous threats.

  “I know you want to keep this quiet,” Abe said. “But a crime has been committed. It’s time for the police to get involved. The place needs to be dusted for fingerprints, and the employees need to be questioned.”

  “No!”

  Abe’s eyes narrowed. His voice remained calm. “Someone came into this building, broke into your office and damaged your property…with a gun! I’d say these threats are now too close for comfort, Jackson.”

  “If news leaks out about any of this, especially the part that invol
ves weapons, the press will have a field day. They’ll turn finding a bullet hole into some kind of gang activity. You know how small this industry is, how easily a bid can be swayed from one company to the next. I don’t want to have that kind of negative publicity.” What he said was true, but that wasn’t all of it. Though it was irrational, a part of Jackson was ashamed of his old life: the things he’d done and the plight of his mother. There was a slight yet undeniable fear that if all of the truth ever came out, his empire could disappear just as rapidly as it had come to him. He and Marissa shared a look, one that Abe Swartz observed. “We have to keep a lid on this.”

  Abe leaned more comfortably into the large leather chair that sat opposite Jackson’s desk. He steepled his fingers and gazed at Jackson intently. “I knew your uncle a long time,” he said at last. “And I’ll honor his memory by keeping this quiet, for now, and helping you as much as I can. But I’m going to need two things from you. One, I need to know what it is you’re hiding and, two, who you’ve pissed off enough to want to see you dead.”

  Chapter 15

  Back at Drake Wines, Diamond stewed. Her fingers itched to dial Jackson’s number. But she would not. She’d rather dive headfirst into a vat of smushed grapes—fully clothed…in designer originals. She’d chided herself a thousand times for giving in to her desires, let alone the fact that she had enjoyed herself immensely while doing so. Her nether muscles clenched at the memory, and as much as she hated it, her body wanted more of Jackson “Boss” Wright. Even now she could hear him laugh, that irritatingly smug sound that hours earlier she’d deemed one of the sexiest noises she’d ever heard. Of course, at the time a certain body part was being tickled by his tongue. Enough! Diamond snatched up the revisions of the latest newsletter she’d printed out and forced herself to concentrate. Yeah, right. Good luck with that.

  A light tap sounded on Diamond’s door. “I’m outta here,” Kathleen said, as she entered. “Do you need anything before I go?”

  “Nope.” Diamond spoke without looking up. “Close the door on your way out.” She knew Kathleen still stood there, could envision the look of motherly concern on her face. Her frustration caused her to speak more sharply than she intended. “I’m fine, Kat. See you tomorrow.”

  There was silence for a moment and then she said, “Bye, Diamond.” A soft click of the door punctuated Kathleen’s departure.

  Diamond sighed, even as Jackson’s voice invaded her conscience: Black American princess. She knew that right now her actions were those of exactly that, a spoiled diva. Kathleen was the last person who deserved such treatment. But she was still too much in sulk mode to dismiss her assistant getting all up in her business—sanely translated—showing genuine concern. At least she’s gone and I can mope in private. But, no; Kathleen was obviously a glutton for punishment because less than a minute later the click of the doorknob signaled her return.

  Okay, I’ve had it. Steaming, Diamond whirled around. “What is it now? Oh, hey, Dex.”

  A slight smirk accompanied Dexter into the room. “Hey, sis.” He walked over and sat in the chair across from Diamond’s desk.

  Diamond never looked up. “I’m busy, so whatever it is, make it quick.”

  Dexter leaned over, snatched what she was reading out of her hands and laughed at her glowering countenance like he was twelve.

  “I mean it, Dexter.” Oh, she was really serious now, full name used and all. “I’m trying to get out of here.”

  Dexter placed the paper back down. “Hot date tonight?”

  Diamond huffed, glared at Dexter and returned to her reading, hoping he’d get the don’t-mess-with-me-’cause-I’m-not-in-the-mood message. “Bye, brother.”

  He didn’t. Rather, he kept sitting there, staring, a stupid I’ve-got-a-secret look on his face. Diamond didn’t even care what that was about. But she was getting ready to find out.

  “Or was that date this afternoon?”

  Had everybody on the premises been drinking nosy water? Not four hours away from her first dalliance in a year and suddenly everyone was interested in her dating schedule and mental status. That “everyone” at this point included only Kathleen and Dexter was beside the point. Two people in her business were two people too many. Diamond stopped looking at the report she’d been holding but not reading the past ten minutes and tried to keep her cool by adopting a nonchalant attitude. “Ha-ha. My brother’s got jokes. You must have seen Jackson by my offices earlier. He owns the construction company that is doing our renovation, or have you forgotten that minor detail?” She waited. The smirk remained on Dexter’s face. “It was business.”

  Dexter’s eyes stayed locked on hers. The smirk stayed, too. “Uh-huh.”

  “Whatever.” Diamond was proud of how apparently bored she must look. The disguise took effort.

  “You’re going to sit there and tell me that nothing happened between you and Jackson when you took him on a tour of the vineyard?”

  So he’s talked to Daddy. Either that or he saw Jackson leaving the warehouse. “That got interrupted. Jackson received a phone call from his assistant. Emergency. Had to dash back to his office.”

  “That may be true, but he didn’t leave too quickly.”

  Diamond shrugged. “I don’t know how he left. I stayed behind to check out the inventory.”

  Dexter laughed. “You checked out more than wine.” He reached into his pocket. “I admit to my share of dallying, but—” flicking his wrist, he tossed something on Diamond’s desk “—this ain’t mine.”

  The reflection of the gold foil on Diamond’s varnished desktop shone like a thousand suns.

  “What’s that?” she asked, her casual attitude slipping a notch.

  “If we were in court, I’d call it admissible evidence,” Dexter said, stretching his legs out in front of him.

  “And I’d argue reasonable doubt.” Diamond willed herself not to blush as she flicked the “evidence” off her desk. “Not to mention that you’re nasty…picking up an anonymous condom wrapper. A dozen people are in and out of that cellar. It could belong to any of them.”

  “Uh-huh.” Dexter continued to eye his sister. “But the way you’re over there squirming, I’d say I’m closer to the truth.”

  “What you’re closer to is getting kicked out of my office. Shouldn’t you be focused on your own love life, hanging out with your Latin flavor and whatnot?”

  “Besides,” Dexter continued, ignoring Diamond’s attempt to shift the focus, “I was down at the site earlier and talked to some of the men. One of them saw you showing Jackson around. The rumor mill is hopping, sister.”

  “Just make sure you don’t add to it, brother. My interest in Jackson ends at the construction site.”

  “Maybe,” Dexter said, rising from the chair and heading to the door. “But is that all that Jackson wants?”

  Diamond waited until her brother had closed the door and then leaned back heavily against the chair. The truth of the matter was Diamond had no idea what Jackson wanted. And from the hurried way he left after they’d made love, she deduced that when it came to anything outside of the workplace, maybe the cocky, arrogant love machine that still had her throbbing had already gotten what he came for.

  Chapter 16

  Jackson placed his hands on either side of the marble shower and let the six powerful shower jets hit him from all sides. Abe’s interrogation—because to call it a discussion would be putting it too mildly—had been grueling but necessary. It had been years since Jackson had opened up about his less than humble beginnings, the start in life that he swore to put behind him the moment he left South Central and landed in San Diego’s tony suburb of La Jolla. He’d hoped—prayed even—that the severing from his childhood could be clean and complete. A part of him, however, knew that there was no total escape from the ties that b
ound him. Family was family, and blood was thicker than concrete.

  Moving his head from side to side, he let the water run over his close-cropped curls and tried to work out the kinks in his neck. Mental pictures from another meeting, the one that had happened before Abe’s pointed questioning, came to mind. He instantly hardened and was reminded that the break-in and letter weren’t the only things that had Jackson tight. After Abe left, he’d tried to reach Diamond. Her assistant had told him that she was unavailable. He could just about guess what that meant. She was pissed and didn’t want to talk. He’d be the first to admit that his exit was whack. But she needed to know that the extenuating circumstances made his quick getaway necessary.

  Cutting off the water, he stepped from the shower and, after wrapping a towel around his waist, he reached for his phone. There was one text: from Marissa. She’d been able to locate Diamond’s personal number. He opened it up and smiled for the first time since he and Diamond made love. Seconds later, he tapped the number that Marissa had sent him, and seconds after that, he heard the voice that made things beat faster and get harder. “Hello, Diamond. It’s Jackson.”

  The intake of breath on the other end of the phone was audible. “Jackson! How did you get my cell number?”

  “That’s one thing you need to learn about me, baby girl. I always get what I want.”

  * * *

  The next evening, Jackson and Diamond sat at a restaurant located midway between Temecula and San Diego. It was a Friday night, and as such, the place was fairly crowded. But Jackson had finagled a corner booth for them and then sat down beside Diamond instead of opposite her.

  “Thanks for coming,” he said after they’d placed drink orders.

  “You left me little choice,” Diamond replied, trying without success to keep the pout out of her voice.

  “Spoiled brat,” Jackson mumbled.