by Donna Hill
“Whoa. You go, girl,” Ashley said.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Danielle added.
“I hear a but in there somewhere,” said Savannah, always the astute one.
“A big one. The tickets are for the exact same weekend as the private party.”
“Daayum,” they chorused, turning the one word into two.
“Talk about bad timing,” Ashley said.
“I have no idea what to do. I have to be up in the Poconos.”
“You need to go with Steven,” Savannah said emphatically.
“I agree,” Danielle said.
“But how am I going to explain my absence to Michael?”
“You don’t. I’ll take your place,” Savannah said.
“What?”
“We’ll make it work. Danielle is already one of the ladies. I’m helping out because you’re ill. I’ll work it out with Traci. Ashley had to cover one of your other events.” She shrugged her shoulders and held her palms facing the ceiling. “Simple.”
Mia looked from one expectant face to other. “Do you really think he’d go for it?”
“What choice does he have?” Danielle said. “You don’t tell him jack until the last second. By then all the players are in place.”
Mia nodded slowly. “I can’t jeopardize what Steven and I have. I just can’t. I cringe to think I was involved with a man who could do what he’s doing.” She gave a slight shiver.
“Let’s be honest. Michael Burke is fine, charming, intelligent, well-off. What woman wouldn’t fall for him?” Savannah said. “And, to be honest, I really believe he cared for you and still does. But that doesn’t excuse what he’s done and is still doing. Besides, if he would cheat on his wife, one of these days he’d do the same thing to you.”
For a moment Mia looked crestfallen. Hearing the hard truth was definitely a reality check. “Let’s work this plan, then,” she finally conceded. “I’m sure this will be my last assignment once Jean finds out that I opted to pursue my love life instead of my job.”
“Jean will get over it,” Ashley said. “If she can take Traci back into the fold, she’ll do the same for you.”
“I sure hope so.”
Danielle and her fiancé, Nick, decided to take in a movie instead of going home after the end of their day of shooting.
“I think things went pretty well today,” Nick said as they stood in line waiting for tickets to Denzel’s latest movie.
Danielle hooked her arm through Nick’s. It had taken her a while to feel comfortable expressing her feelings for Nick in public. For one thing, they worked together. And then there was the whole race thing. Although both of them—in the animal kingdom—would be considered mutts for their mixed breeding, Danielle had always lived as a black girl in an “I’m not sure what she is” body. Nick, on the other hand, grew up as a white boy with white-boy privileges, even though his heart and soul were darker than hers.
But none of that mattered anymore. She’d made her peace with herself and, more important, with her family—her dad, in particular—and ever since then she had felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders.
“Fortunately, everything was in studio. I’m hoping tomorrow is better. We have the shots to take for the winter coat line for JCPenney.”
“I know. We’ll improvise.”
Nick paid for their tickets and they walked inside, both heading straight for the popcorn. They turned to each other and grinned. Popcorn was the thing that had broken the employer/employee ice between them. Danielle was a fiend for popcorn. She could never turn it down. And one afternoon during a photo shoot on Long Island, Nick had whipped out a bag of popcorn and Danielle had begun to salivate. When Nick offered her some, she nearly screamed yes. As they shared the oversize bag, they started talking, finding that they had tons of things in common: music, movies, books, neighborhoods, musicians, architecture. It was amazing and the rest, as they say, is history—in the making.
“Make sure you ask for extra butter, ’cause I ain’t sharing,” Nick said.
Danielle rolled her eyes.
They placed their orders and walked into the darkened theater. They had about ten minutes before the feature presentation, so they settled down to watch the previews. It was Nick who changed the direction of their inconsequential conversation.
“So what’s new with the Cartel?” he asked.
On her last case, Danielle had broken one of the cardinal rules of the Cartel; she’d told Nick some details after he discovered her kit. Not everything, but enough for him to know that she had “another life,” one that she wouldn’t always share with him. Actually, he’d had a hand in her last case, which had involved identity theft.
“It’s Mia’s case this time,” she said, before shoving a handful of popcorn in her mouth.
“Anything you can talk about?”
“I wasn’t supposed to say that,” she said, with a hint of laughter in her voice.
“My bad.”
“All I can say is that it’s major. There’s a party coming up soon. Very exclusive. Very highbrow guests.”
“I can mingle,” Nick said. “Something like that you need a bartender, right?” He grinned into the darkness. “I’m your man.”
She munched on her popcorn. “I’ll let you know. But don’t count on it.”
“Party pooper.”
She poked him in the side with her elbow. Relaxing in her seat, she was amazed at how far they’d come. Both of them had struggled with intimacy issues, trusting another person totally. But once she finally opened her heart and spirit to Nick, everything changed. She relished the fact that she could trust him with her darkest secrets, even being a member of the Cartel. That level of trust brought them closer. She glanced down at the diamond sparkling on the third finger of her left hand. Yes, things had definitely changed for the better. And, if need be, she would certainly take Nick up on his offer. Nothing like having two spies in the family.
Mia dreaded what she was about to do, but she had no choice. Throughout the night, she’d struggled with what she would say and how Jean would react. But truth be told, she’d rather jeopardize her standing with the Cartel than with Steven.
She parked her car across the street from the brownstone. For several moments she sat behind the wheel, rehearsing in her head what she was going to say. She watched the comings and goings of the men attending the Pause for Men Spa. One of these days she was going to pay the spa a visit just to see what all the hype was about.
Unable to stall any longer, she took off her glasses, tucked them in the glove compartment, grabbed her coat and got out.
Claudia answered the door.
“Good morning, sweetheart.”
“Hi, Claudia.”
“You don’t sound happy.”
“I’m not looking forward to my conversation with Jean.”
Claudia patted her shoulder. “Whatever it is, I’m sure it will work out. Jean really isn’t as bad as everyone thinks.”
“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind while she chews off my head,” she said, laughing derisively. “And we really need to get together to talk about your wedding plans.”
“I know. Time is flying by. But we’ll make time to talk once you’re finished with your assignment.”
“That might be sooner than you think.” She took a deep breath. “Wish me luck.” She headed upstairs.
When she’d called earlier to tell Jean that she needed to speak with her in person, she got a sense that Jean already knew what she was coming to say. She walked down the hall of fame until she reached Jean’s office. She knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
Jean barely looked up when Mia came in.
“Have a seat.”
Mia’s throat was suddenly bone-dry. She thought she might suffocate.
“You wanted to talk. I’m listening.” She peered at Mia through the lenses of her red-framed glasses.
Mia cleared her dry throat
. “I’m not going to be able to handle the event in the Poconos…”
She went on to explain, as best she could, her current circumstances. She laid out plan B, which had the approval of Savannah and Danielle.
While Mia rambled on about the whys and wherefores of her predicament, Jean didn’t move, didn’t seem to blink, didn’t appear to breathe. Mia was certain that at any moment Jean was simply going to implode.
Stumbling toward the finish line, she wrapped up her monologue and awaited Jean’s verdict. She’d resigned herself to the notion that she would be kicked to the curb. However, Jean’s response was more devastating than she imagined.
Slowly, Jean removed her glasses and set them down in front of her on the desk. She zeroed in on Mia, making her squirm in her seat.
“The downfall of some of my best operatives has been over a relationship. If you intend to succeed, you must find a way to separate the two. I’m disappointed in you, Mia. But I know that Savannah and Danielle can handle it. They’ve proven themselves.”
Mia felt physically stung by the barb.
“Do what you must.” She put her glasses back on and returned to what she was doing before Mia came in.
Mia took that as her cue to leave. And as far as she was concerned, she couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
She couldn’t even face Claudia so she hurried out and practically sprinted to her car.
Hot tears of defeat and frustration filled her eyes. She’d failed before she’d gotten started. She lowered her head to the steering wheel and let the tears fall. She wasn’t a quitter. Her entire life was built on organization and thinking outside the box. She was analytical by nature. And she’d somehow let what came easy to her get away from her. She’d allowed herself to get distracted and out of focus.
She had to return to what came natural to her. Planning.
Chapter 22
Mia took her time getting to her office. At this point, she felt her day could only go from bad to worst. Throughout the ride downtown, she played out a variety of scenarios to make the impossible possible—everything from going with Steven to the Bahamas, buying an extra ticket and flying back to New York then returning to the island. That, of course, was beyond ridiculous. How would she ever explain her absence to Steven for hours on end? She’d even considered telling Steven everything—except the part about her and Michael’s past—and taking him with her to the Poconos then flying off to the Bahamas. But she was already on the blacklist with Jean. The last thing she needed to do was involve Steven.
She eventually dragged herself into her office, feeling as gloomy as the overcast day.
“Can’t be that bad,” Ashley said, upon seeing her distraught expression.
Mia shrugged out of her coat and draped it across her arm. “It is.”
“What happened?”
“She told me I was a disappointment and that she was sure that Savannah and Danielle could handle the assignment. After all, they’d proven themselves.”
Ashley grimaced. “Ouch. Sorry. Look she’s probably disappointed, sure, but she’ll get over it. The Cartel will be there with or without us, but we have to have a life, too. If I was in your shoes, I’d do the same thing…if that’s any consolation.”
Mia half smiled. “Thanks.” She sighed heavily. “Any messages?”
“Not sure if you want to hear it, but Michael called to remind you about lunch.”
Her day had just gotten worst.
Michael had made reservations for them at the Russian Tea Room—pretty swanky for a simple lunch. But she wasn’t buying so no need to complain. Hopefully, the serene and upscale atmosphere, suffused with old-world charm, would have enough of an ambience to lift her dour mood and help her get through an hour or more in Michael’s presence.
She arrived at one-thirty and was shown immediately to her table. He must come here often, Mia thought as she was ushered toward the back. The moment she said she was meeting Michael Burke for lunch, the hostess’s bright blue eyes lit up. At this point, unfortunately, Mia couldn’t tell if the recognition was due to Michael’s standing in the business community or if this young girl was part of his stable of escorts.
As she approached their somewhat secluded booth, Michael spotted her. A slow smile—the one that creased the corners of his eyes and did something to her insides that she was never able to explain or understand—moved across his mouth, showing just a hint of teeth.
Her heart knocked hard in her chest, forcing the blood to rush to her head. For an instant she felt dizzy, as if she were about to swoon like the ladies sitting on a Charleston porch at the height of summer, sipping mint julips.
He extended his hand to her and she found herself enveloped in its warmth. He slid his other lightly around her waist, then kissed her gently on the cheek before helping her into her chair as the heady scent of his cologne short-circuited her thoughts.
The moment she sat, she reached for the glass of water and took several swallows as Michael swung back into his seat opposite her.
At least the water had a cooling effect and she slowly began to clear her head. Michael always had that power over her, to be able to seduce her mind and body with no more effort than simply being in her space. His smile, his touch, the scent of him were all aphrodisiacs, and even after all these years that combination was still as potent as it had ever been.
That was what kept her on the fence. That was what made her so indecisive and hesitant. She wanted him to be the Michael she knew—an adulterer, certainly—but not a common pimp.
“Thanks for coming,” he said, the familiar timbre of his voice snapping her out of her musings. “I appreciate it.”
“I try to accommodate my business clients as much as possible.” She folded her hands in her lap.
The waitress appeared to take their drink and food orders.
Michael ordered wine and a Caesar salad, Mia a bottle of Pellegrino and grilled salmon salad. They returned the menus to the waitress.
“I must tell you again how impressed I was with the red-carpet event. The calls haven’t stopped coming in about what a great time everyone had.”
Mia nodded and smiled. “It’s what I do.”
“You were always good,” he said, his voice lowering to a tone too intimate for a business lunch.
Mia adjusted herself in her seat and took out her notepad. “So, what did you want to talk to me about?” she asked, trying to stay focused.
The right corner of his mouth rose upward for a split second. “All work and no play…”
“Michael—”
“Okay, okay.” He clasped his hands on top of the table and Mia couldn’t help but notice the fresh manicure and the way his long fingers laced in and out of each other. “My house in the Poconos is fine for the party. There’s plenty of space. I think it would still make sense for you to come up and take a look first.”
Mia made a note then returned her gaze to Michael.
The waitress reappeared with their drinks order and food.
“However,” he continued, “my guests will be…staying over for the weekend. They are going to need accommodations in the immediate area. So I will need ten suites reserved.”
The light bulb went off. That was her opening! “I’ll take care of it and ensure that your guests have only the best. I’ll need a list of their preferences and any special requests.”
“Of course. I’ll make sure that Brenda gets that information to you as soon as possible, as well as the catering menu. We’ll need some entertainment as well. I was thinking a small jazz band.”
Mia’s mind was racing. She just might be able to pull this off after all. “Of course. I know just the band. They’ll be perfect.”
Michael took a sip of his drink before focusing on his salad. He stabbed the fork into his food then stopped. “Tell me why you’ve been avoiding…us.”
Her stomach rose and fell. “What are you talking about?”
“Us.” He suddenly covered her hand with his.
“Please don’t pull away. Just hear me out. I know I made mistakes. I should never have cheated on my wife and had you living the kind of life that wasn’t worthy of you.” He paused. “I never saw you as the other woman—but as my woman, the one I wanted to be with. But by the time I got my act together, you were gone. I’d give it all up, everything, the business, the deals…other women if I could have you.”
“Michael, too much time has passed.”
“Enough to heal the hurts, the disappointments?”
She looked away.
“All I ask is that you give me a chance—one chance to prove to you that I’ve changed. Please.”
“How are you going to do that?”
“You’ll see. After the party, you’ll see.”
Mia stared at his bowed head as he ate his food. What did he mean?
She shouldn’t even be entertaining Michael’s thinly veiled proposition. He always had a way of making her see and believe what he wanted. That was his strength and her weakness. But there was no time for weakness, not now, she thought as she maneuvered her car around the late-afternoon traffic.
After he’d made his declaration, he’d steered clear of anything else on a personal level. They talked about politics, the upcoming election and what it could mean for the country. They talked about movies, music, all the things they had in common, and for a while she totally forgot that this could never be. For a while she was the old Mia Turner who was totally enamored of the dashing Michael Burke. That was then, she reminded herself, reliving the easy banter that had characterized their past relationship. No place for memories now, she reminded herself as she pulled into the last parking spot on the block.
Yet, his statement clung to her like a static-charged skirt against panty hose without a slip. And as much as she tried to disconnect the electricity that drew the skirt to the hose, she couldn’t. It just kept on clinging, riding up and down her thigh, making her uncomfortable.
Mia turned off the ignition and got out. She glanced sky-ward. Dark clouds still hovered threateningly over the city. Even though it was only October, it felt like snow. Shivering slightly, she pulled her coat around her and hurried toward her office.