Sweet Obsession (Men of Whiskey Row Book 1)

by D. A. Young

  “We should go with this man,” Jack said softly as he and Ian continued to stare at each other. The older man smiled slightly and reached for Casey. Darby stepped forward, “I’m watching ya’. Try anything stupid and you’ll not live through the night. Do ya’ ken?”

  Ian rolled his eyes and picked Casey up gently. “Young man, you are entirely too blood thirsty for your age. Perhaps a stint of military academy will straighten you out.”

  Jack placed a hand on Darby’s shoulder to calm him while looking at the blond man now cradling his youngest brother. “We stay together, Ian.” His tone was ice cold and his eyes far wiser than his years.

  Alexei gave a sharp bark of laughter and Jack could sense his approval. Eyebrows raised, Ian said calmly “Of course, Jackson. Please, let’s leave now and get out of this dreadful weather.”

  As he walked past Ian to the car, Darby muttered under his breath, “City girl.”

  “Go on, boys. I’ll take care of this,” Alexei said in his heavily accented English; his gaze approving as he looked up the mountain to the flames burning bright despite the rain.

  Jack started to follow his brother to the car, but Ian stopped him with a question.

  “Want to tell me what happened up there?” He asked speculatively. Jack looked up at him and could see the reflection of the fire burning in the older man’s eyes.

  “Bonfire party,” he murmured, not looking back as he stepped into the warm vehicle.

  Chapter One

  Present day…

  New York City, New York

  The door to the study flew open, startling the tall, handsome man who was just about to knock on it. He immediately stepped out of the way as a ball of fury with a mutinous expression flew by him, leaving a cloud of orange blossom and white gardenia in her wake. The scent instantly aroused him just as it had for the last four years whenever he encountered it. He watched for a moment as her long, lean legs carried her swiftly towards the front doors; a butler with a bland expression, already holding one open for her.

  “Get back here, Noelle! We are not finished! Noelle! Noelle!!” The older black gentleman shouted furiously as he stood behind his desk waiting for his command to be obeyed.

  He’ll be waiting awhile, Jack thought before he spoke for the first time. “She’s gone, Ronald.”

  Jack watched with a barely suppressed smile as the other man, now annoyed, threw himself back into his chair. The normally personable senator looked more like a petulant child throwing a tantrum. “Anything I can help you with?”

  Jack was curious as to what would make the normally shy and quiet woman break that pattern and rise like a stormy phoenix. The transformation had been magnificent, he mused, thinking of the fire in her eyes and elevated color to her face. Her movements reminded him of an electric storm back home in Tennessee.

  Ronald sighed, shaking his head in the negative. “Noelle’s asking me to release some of her money from the trust fund my parents left her so that she and her girlfriend can start that damned event planning business. I don’t think it’s a good idea. There are already too many companies like that in this city. They’ll get swallowed whole by all the bigwigs, and then she’ll be out of that money. I tried to explain that to her, and what do I get for my troubles? Ungratefulness and a temper that rivals her mother’s to boot.”

  Jack inwardly cursed the older man for his assumptions. Didn’t he know that doubt was the biggest killer of dreams, and not failure? As he looked at the well-polished man sitting across from him, he knew that Ronald Kramer didn’t have a clue. He and his wife Alicia came from old money. From birth, he’d been groomed to be a successful politician like his father, grandfather, and great-grandfather before him. His idea of struggling would be whether he should wear the dark red tie or the burgundy one.

  “How much was she asking for?” Jack asked casually, hoping his tone conveyed just the right amount of disinterest. “By the way, here’s the list of charity events that I thought you and Alicia might want to look into sponsoring. I highlighted the ones that are close to the First Lady’s heart.”

  Ronald eagerly reached for the papers that Jack held out. “Noelle wanted a two hundred-thousand-dollar advance. Thanks; I’ll go over these with Alicia tonight when she gets in from Florida.”

  Jack frowned. This was Alicia Kramer’s third trip to Florida this month. “What’s going on in Florida?”

  “We’re looking into having a home built there, and she’s been scouting properties,” Ronald replied absently as he flipped through the pages. “I see a couple already that I know she’ll want in on.”

  Alicia Kramer, with her coolly unflappable personality, was the epitome of class. Secretly, her staff called her “The Robot” as she appeared devoid of emotion. This statement wasn’t entirely true though because she did have two passions: The first was meddling in her children and grandchildren’s lives, often by giving tons of unsolicited advice. And the second was Michelle Obama.

  Alicia was obsessed with being at every event that the First Lady attended as well as what she wore. It was in the Kramer’s contract with R.R. & S Relations that Alicia was at every event that Mrs. Obama attended, if possible. Jack had to also add his own clause that the Kramer’s would be on their own if they were deemed a stalking threat due to Alicia’s extreme fondness for Mrs. O. Normally, Ronald indulged his wife to her heart’s desire, but even he had to draw the line at spending Christmas in Hawaii just so they could run into the First Family.

  When it came to her passions, Alicia was nuttier than a squirrel’s den before winter. It was one of the main reasons that made Jack hesitant to jump into her crosshairs regarding a certain beauty. Not that he’d had much of an opportunity to, considering she avoided him like the plague whenever they happened to be in the same vicinity.

  “Well let me know what she likes, and we’ll see about getting her in. I’m gonna take off now. Call if you need anything,” Jack said and quickly left the room. He waited until he got into his matte black Range Rover Sport to make the call. The phone rang twice before it was picked up on the other end. A raspy voice with a heavy Long Island accent answered, “Hello?”

  “Ira, its Jack. How you doing?” he greeted his longtime friend and client.

  “Jack, my boy! I can’t complain. Business is booming, but the wife wants me to turn in my reigns and retire; leave the daily grind to our boys. But, I says to myself, if I do that then I might as well give my company away for free, ya know?”

  Before Jack could answer, Ira continued. “Those two knuckleheads don’t got the business sense God gave a sloth. And on top of that, they fight like freakin’ cats and dogs. All your hard work into establishing our reputation would go down the toilet if I even thought of retiring, Jack.” His last comment was said with a despondent sigh.

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Ira. Perhaps I have a solution that will work for both of us,” Jack said pleasantly. He was already aware of the tense circumstances at Rothman Investments and planned on speaking to Ira about them. The situation with Noelle Kramer was only speeding up the process.

  “I’m listening,” Ira urged. “I love making money, but Maureen won’t wait on me forever to give her time. Got to do it while I’m young ya’ know?”

  Jack smiled into the phone. Ira was sixty-five years old and hated the thought of retiring. He would probably die at his desk because he wouldn’t make time to go to the hospital. “I have a friend with a sound business plan. All that’s needed is the funding to make it happen….”

  Chapter Two

  New York City, New York

  Strawberry Rhubarb. Cherry Lemon Curd. Sweet Potato Praline. Pie flavors ran through Noelle’s mind as she waited alone in the large conference room. She couldn’t help it; baking relaxed her, and she’d just recently discovered a love for pie making. Chocolate Crème Brulee. Coconut Key Lime Cream. Bananas Foster. Why had she let Sidra talk her into this? Noelle Kramer asked herself ruefully for the hundredth time. Lattice. Crimped. Graham�
��she was moving on to crusts now.

  “Girl, call Jack. He’ll know what to do. He’s a fixer,” Sidra Barton, one of her two best friends urged. “All the bigwigs use him as a consultant when they need to clean up an image. His ideas are brilliant, and he’s damn good at what he does. I mean, he does a great job for your dad, right? Jack is really smart and nice too, unlike that asshole brother of his. Besides, he’s so damn fine on the eyes; I totally feel like I should pay him just for the view whenever I’m in his company.”

  Sidra finished with her signature husky laugh, and Noelle joined in with a weak one of her own. No one, not even her closest friends Sidra and Avery, knew how she felt about Jack Sullivan. And they’d been her best friends since the second week of first grade at My Lady Prep Academy.

  “I just feel so angry and humiliated; not to mention terrified about how this will affect my family,” Noelle murmured. Inwardly she cringed at the backlash that would undoubtedly ensue and how her well-respected family would weather it. The Kramer name would forever be tarnished. God, and her mother’s reaction; Noelle shuddered at the thought of being on the receiving end of Alicia Kramer’s sharp tongue. And then there was Jack’s reaction…

  Noelle nervously paced the large conference room floor, her stomach swirling with butterflies as she waited breathlessly for Jack Sullivan, P.R. Extraordinaire, a.k.a. “The Fixer”. He was a man who walked into a room and commanded everyone’s attention without saying a word. His gorgeous, rugged looks took her breath away, and his swag vibrated at the highest frequency possible. And the intensity of his hazel eyes touched her to the very depths of her soul.

  Over the years Jack barely said more than a handful of sentences to her, but it was enough to make her panties wet just the same. Nothing sexual, just simple shit like ‘Hi, how are you?’ But he possessed a deep, slow southern drawl that was so sexy; it made country crooner Sam Hunt’s voice sound like Pee Wee Herman. Whenever Jack spoke, all she heard was ‘I want to make you scream with my tongue.’ So perhaps there was a bit of a lost in translation problem, and that usually resulted in her gaping at him like an idiot, which was why she tended to avoid him as much as she could.

  Whenever they were at the same functions, Noelle could hardly glance at Jack. She was afraid that everyone would see her ill-concealed yearning for him. Her nights though were filled with visions of his big, muscular body totally dominating hers; and often she’d awake having to finish off what was started in her wild fantasies.

  Not that those dreams would ever turn into reality. In Jack’s presence all Noelle ever felt from him was pity. Since her parents were his clients, and her godfather one of his business partners, he was often exposed to various stages of “Operation Fix Noelle”; interventions staged on her behalf by her overly-caring and too nosy for their own good family. As he stared at her with those unreadable hazel eyes, Noelle could feel Jack’s disgust coming off of him in waves at how pathetic she was. He would excuse himself as if he could hardly stand to be in the same room with someone as pitiful as her, and she wanted to die of embarrassment.

  The run-ins weren’t so bad now that Noelle rarely saw Jack since she’d finally moved out of the Kramer fortress. Against her parent’s protests, she decided to go forward with her business plans after receiving a pre-approved loan letter in the mail. The letter almost seemed too good to be true as it outlined plans for helping small businesses owners to achieve their dreams, but she knew she had to try. Much to her surprise, her request for a loan was approved; and the owner of the bank Mr. Rothman had worked closely with her and her business partner and other best friend Avery Monroe to ensure they were set up for success.

  The event planning company On a Whim that she co-owned with Avery was off to a good start with a steady stream of small businesses looking to do events. Just two weeks ago they were asked by an aristocratic polo player to plan his birthday party without even proposing a bid. It was going to be the event of the season, and it would definitely open doors for them. The ladies could hardly contain themselves.

  Ever since they were little, they’d dreamed of doing something like this. Avery would cut flowers from the garden and make pretty arrangements for their tea parties, while Noelle would make the scones and sandwiches. Sidra would provide the music by beat boxing until it was time to eat. Now they were all grown up, turning dreams into reality. Noelle was in charge of menu planning and catering. Avery was in charge of entertainment and decorating. Currently they were working out of their homes to save money for an office space. Sidra was still dee-jaying but worked for Jack’s firm as well.

  The growing business was a good thing because it afforded Noelle less time to think about the one man she couldn’t have. But now she needed his help and would result to begging if needed. The door slowly opened, and she steeled herself in anticipation of seeing the man she’d been desperately in love with since she was twenty-one walk through it.

  ***

  Jack, with his iPhone glued to his ear, hurried through the elevator doors of the tenth floor office suites of his business R.R. & S. Public Relations. The crisis he was presently dealing with involved the current Miss World Beauty and her now ex drug-dealing boyfriend who’d supplied endless amounts of drugs to two of the three judges on the panel in exchange for her winning the title. The truth was discovered this morning when, during a heated lover’s quarrel, he decided to throw it in her face that she would not have the title if it weren’t for him. After blackening his eye, Inez Gaines promptly informed Jack and the authorities of his illegal activities. Jimmy Vasquez and the two judges were quickly arrested and waiting to make bail.

  Jack knew that as soon as Jimmy got out, he would stop at nothing to slander Inez’s image and that of the pageant. A buddy of his in the NYPD had tipped him that Jimmy was already screaming in holding that the bitch had used him just to win the title. He needed every piece of information on the little fucker that he could get his hands on, but for now, he had to concentrate on making sure both of his clients came out ahead.

  “I want it leaked to the press that Inez and the douchebag have been separated for a while because she suspected something had transpired, and she’s been working with authorities to get a full confession from him. I don’t want her portrayed as a victim, but for whom she is,” Jack barked orders to his second assistant, Eli Johnson.

  “Inez Gaines is a strong woman who knows right from wrong. She hit him in self-defense because he tried to get physical with her. Get me the list of charity functions that she has lined up. She is going to attend each event and will be handheld through them. Under no circumstances is she to be left unattended with an audience or access to social media. Call Darby and make sure he tightened her security detail already and knows she is not to speak to the press! Her volatile personality makes Donald Trump look spineless, and I’ll be damned if her ex’s lawyer will get to paint an image of him being a victim of domestic violence.”

  Jack fired off more orders as he walked through the sliding office doors and waved at Margo his first assistant. She stood up to follow him into his office. Sensing that she wanted a word with him, he quickly lowered his voice, ending the call with “And please remind my brother that Ms. Gaines is a client and to be treated like one. Translation: We. Don’t. Fuck. Our. Clients. He’s a goddamn lawsuit waiting to happen.”

  Just thinking of his hellion of a brother made Jack wince. Women loved Darby Sullivan, and he loved them right back until they wanted something permanent. Turning, he faced his personal assistant with a charming smile.

  “Good morning, Margo. I like your new haircut and isn’t that the scarf I gave you for your birthday two weeks ago?” he asked smoothly. Although she was almost fifty-eight and a happily married grandmother, Margo felt her heart stutter as she took in her boss’s gorgeous face. Merciful heavens, he was a good looking man. One that had women acting like all types of fools. They attempted to sneak past her into his office and called all hours of her shift trying to reach him. All of the
m wanted to be Mrs. Jack Sullivan, and who could blame them?

  Jack Sullivan was movie star handsome; extremely easy on the eyes with his thick, curling black hair, straight nose, and square jaw. His broad muscular body filled out tailor-made suits to perfection. His mama, Margo surmised, had raised him right. He was as kind as he was smart. Jack believed in treating people fairly, and he worked hard. He had forty employees under him and made it a point to touch base with all of them during the workweek. That wasn’t to say that he didn’t have a temper if you crossed him. Margo winced thinking about those who had challenged him.

  Now what was he saying? Margo wondered. Ah yes, the scarf and her hair, which she self-consciously touched. Her Albert hadn’t been crazy about the pixie look, but she thought it was time to retire the salt and pepper chignon style she’d worn for the last ten years. Her bright smile was stunning against her walnut complexion. “It is indeed, sir, and thank you.”

  Jack flashed a quick smile. “Looks nice. Excuse my language, but we’ve got a real shit storm heading our way, and it will take precedence over anything else we’re working on. Eli will be contacting you shortly with the details for a press release to write up. Hold everything and today’s lunch will be a mandatory in house affair for everyone while we brainstorm in the big conference room. Order it from Ruth’s Deli for a delivery around one this afternoon. Field any calls for me from Vivi and Ian got it?” he asked absently while he sorted through the stack of memos on his desk. His two partners were blowing his phone up because they’d been adamant about not taking Miss World Beauty on as a client, especially when the gorgeous, but temperamental, Inez Gaines won the title. He loved and respected them dearly, as they had shown him the ropes of this business; but his gut insisted that they get Inez, and Jack always went with his gut.