Undisclosed Desire (The Complete Box Set

by Falon Gold

  Feisty beneath her cool exterior. Who knew?

  And dammit, I don’t want anyone else to have it.

  “With any other woman, I’d be glad to hear you say you have something at stake, Camron. It means you have genuine feelings for someone. The older Powers don’t encourage that, but this is not any other woman you’re dealing with. Amari doesn’t play by rules that you do. She doesn’t still need to learn when it comes to what matters the most in life. She already knows. I thought she and Astrid were going to cry when Apollo damn near carried Malisa back home and told her he’ll be her personal butler until the triplets were born. He’s setting the bar high for the rest of us.”

  “No such thing, Blake. I excel at everything I do.”

  “Because you don’t play fair, Camron, or know when to give up. I swear if you do something stupid or illegal to get her back, I’ll handcuff your ass myself and take you—”

  “Yeah, yeah, to the woods and give me the ‘do right by Amari, or this’ll be where I lay’ speech that you used to give to Malisa’s boyfriends in school. We’re too old for that, Blake.” Always the protector, but Amari couldn’t be safer with me.

  Or she will be when I make her mine.

  “No one is too old to be stranded in the forest to find their way back out again, while cuffed. I don’t think you’d survive.”

  I find that extremely hilarious. “I’ve survived worse. You wouldn’t arrest me anyway. You can’t! You’re not a cop anymore, remember?” Thank God for that.

  “Break her heart, Camron,” he says deadly serious, “and you’ll find out the hard way what I can do. Right now, she has no idea who’s coming after her, so she needs a shield, because going after her is exactly what you’re going to do, isn’t it?”

  I stop laughing. “I don’t want to break her heart. That’ll be counterproductive when I need it and her. Never wanted anything or anyone like this. It’s killing me that she’s not near right now. I don’t know what to do with the emptiness I feel.”

  “That empty feeling has a name. It’s called consequences and repercussions. You’ve had them coming for a long time, cousin. You can’t really treat people how you want to and expect for it not to come back eventually. Not everyone is going to just fall at your feet, Camron. You’ll have to put in work this time, and it takes time for women like Amari to warm up to you. You’ll have to show her you can be a better man who’s willing to wait for her affections, and then cherish them.”

  “Done, done, and done, Blake. I’ll give her the best of my world, while she walks me through hers in the meantime.”

  “Yeah, that sounds good in theory, but you’re saying it, so no I’m still not feeling good about whatever the hell you got planned for her. Don’t do it, Camron.”

  “If it doesn’t work, I’ll let her go, for good.” I hope I can anyway. “Show up at my house two days from now. I’ll tell you what I’m up to, and I’ll have the jet on standby at Arrow’s airport today. Whenever you guys can get away, just ask for my pilot Nathan Hamilton at check-in. The clerks will have instructions to call him for you, if he’s not there looking for you. You need to see what Ashley has planned for Astrid’s party and approve her engagement ring anyway.”

  “And check on Amari.”

  “You’ll probably actually be checking on me. I’m not sure she isn’t going to kill me after this.”

  “Camron! I swear if-”

  “Blake, I heard you the first time. I... I love you, cousin.” I don’t know why I suddenly want to say that to him, never have before.

  I guess I thought he always just knew it, and I need the practice. Or maybe Amari’s totally going to murder me, and I should be telling everyone how I feel about them while I can.

  “I love you too, cousin,” he mimics softly. “I don’t think we’ve ever said that to each other.”

  “Powers don’t say it period, remember? It’s time we changed the dynamics in this family, by bringing in people who actually know what real happiness is.” I sure as hell don’t.

  “Yeah, no, I don’t like how I feel after you say that either, Camron. You’ll go over and beyond the call of duty to get this family on whatever path you think it should be on.” Absolutely.

  I chuckle low into the mouthpiece. “Bye, Blake.”

  “Bye, Camron. Astrid, we got to start packing!” he yells out without hanging up. “And bring your badge! Camron is up to some shit! It’s about to hit the fan! Amari is in the middle of it!”

  “Babes, Amari is resilient,” she shouts back. “She lasted five years in your family’s world. Much longer than me. I was ready to run after meeting Camron, and besides New York isn’t my jurisdiction!”

  “No, it’s going to be mine! Hey, sweetheart,” he finishes in his gentler voice.

  Oh God, they’re about to kiss.

  Riots of laughter explode from Astrid. “I don’t think my badge works that way for a former Sheriff out of Colorado in New York, or anywhere else on this earth for that matter. And hello to you, too.”

  “We’ll see about that, woman.”

  “The Powers men are something—”

  As interesting as the conversation they’re having is, I cut the connection to make the first of many calls to call in quite a few favors. It looks like I’m going to have to play hardball with Ms. Amari Spencer before she becomes Mrs. Amari Powers. Hardball, I can do with one hand tied behind my back.

  Chapter Two

  ~Amari~

  Home sweet home is the third floor of my apartment building that I found the same day I interviewed for my job with Powers Enterprises. I haven’t been here at this time of day in never, other than the weekends or sick days. Those are so few and far apart that they don’t even count.

  I lock the front entrance, then follow the walkway of off-white, ceramic blocks to the short countertop that borders it. Dropping my purse down on it, taking care not to bump the canisters and the plants spilling out of their pots, I descend three wide steps into my sunken living room.

  For a moment, I stand behind the oversized couch with attached chaise, smiling, and letting the sun wash over me as it streams through huge, undressed windows from across the room. I’m depriving some of the houseplants of the light, but it’s worth it. I feel lighter than I have in years. My job had become like a weight around my neck that I’ve offloaded once and for all.

  Peacefulness closes around me, squeezing out the bad energy lingering from my argument with Mr. Powers. This place has always been my refuge for as long as I’ve known him. I needed one when all his faults and bad tendencies started to manifest. It’s fortunate for me that he’s never been here to taint my home. He wouldn’t come anyway. It’s only fifteen hundred square feet with two bedrooms and one and a half baths. Anything that doesn’t boast excessive and elegant is beneath him. Here, he’ll develop a case of claustrophobia quickly.

  For the first time, I’m glad that Mr. Powers is uppity. I don’t have to worry about him showing up here, but he’ll still have to bear the burden of feeding his superiors and picking up his own dry-cleaning until he finds another victim to do it. The next personal assistant will have no clue as to what they’re getting themselves into. Not my problem though. I need to worry more about replacing my job soon.

  You should probably look for that in the next state, too.

  The sooner, and the further away I get from Candleton, the better. I’ll get right on that after I eat something.

  At the top of the stairs, I enter the rectangular kitchen. At the far end is a simple, white refrigerator. In it, I find the essentials for a working, single, black female: eggs, cheese, butter, milk, two-day old pizza, and half a six-pack of bottled water. If I want an omelet, I’m set. I’d rather celebrate quitting my job with a real meal, which means a run to...

  Oh wait, I can stroll to the corner grocery store and down its aisles today, not jog there before it closes just to shop in a rush for everything I’m out of. Getting back in the car and finding parking all over again
would cost me time I wouldn’t have if I’d worked all day.

  It’s often I get home too late to catch the small grocer open, because I’ve waited around for Mr. Powers’ choice of takeout to arrive; gourmet meals that always have to be cooked right before delivery. Then I have to settle for a bottle of water before falling into my bed face first. Most times, I’m too exhausted to eat and nauseous after spreading out the takeout on a small dining-table in the bedroom at the office for two. Mr. Powers doesn’t dine alone regularly.

  And you’ve still got him and his repulsive ways at the brain.

  Dammit! My gut roils.

  Well, stop thinking about him. He’s no longer a part of your world, Amari.

  Right. So why is that giving me acute indigestion when I detest the ground he walks on?

  When at least one reason doesn’t come to me, and the roiling stops, a yearning for my mother’s spaghetti recipe and a salad manifests. I’m not up for making anything out of scratch today though.

  But you should go visit your family tomorrow.

  It’s been six months since I’ve seen my parents, my brother, and his wife, and I won’t have anything else to do.

  Grabbing my purse and keys, I backtrack out the door, then amble down the block to the store where I peruse the shelves, dropping random ingredients in my cart. Enjoying the simple shopping trip, I drive the groceries to the register line with an older lady stocking tins of cat food on the belt. If I don’t start dating soon, that’ll be me.

  I make a pact with myself to mingle as much as I can outside the house from here on out, after a lazy night at home. While I unload my buggy, the cashier, a white guy, who’s fresh out of his teens in a short-sleeve dress shirt and red apron, grins at me. I haven’t seen him here before, but it’s almost afternoon and I haven’t been in the store this early. Hell, I’m not sure who works here in the evening.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile before,” he says when I lean over the rim of the cart to reach for a canned spaghetti sauce.

  I straighten up to drop it on the belt. “I haven’t had a reason to…” I glance at his nametag. “…Jimmy. I haven’t seen you here before, have I?”

  He snickers and rings up the first of my supplies. “I’ve worked here for two years while I attend college, but you’re usually in a hurry when you come in, so I won’t take offense.”

  I let the threads of the conversation drop, to retrieve my matching wallet from my generic purse, which has no money in it. According to my mother, I need to keep cash and a fresh pair of panties on me for emergencies. I try to at least keep the money on me.

  Jimmy gives me my total. I swipe my bank card and wait for him to give me two hundred dollars cashback.

  Sweeping the plastic bags up into my hands, I nod at him before exiting the store. I’d take my time going home, basking in the warm temperature and the clear, sunny day, but my arms are already sagging under the strain of my purchases.

  After speaking to the doorman at the sliding doors of my building and refusing his help, I rush into the elevator. In my kitchen, I release the bags to the countertop, kick off my shoes, and turn on the plasma screen television mounted to the wall between the windows of the living area. My headspace is clear as I get right down to cooking.

  You should’ve brought some wine.

  Would have, but I’m a lightweight who wants to get up early enough to beat the afternoon traffic to Winchester. One glass would make me sleep ‘til then. As soon as I fill a plate with my meal, my cell phone shrills in my purse. I answer on my way to the couch.

  “Hey, Mama.”

  “Hey sweetheart,” Cecilia Spencer chirps back. “I thought I’d get your voicemail.”

  I laugh, then dump the plate on my glass coffee table. “Not today.”

  “You sound… happy, Amari. What’s going on?” Her suspicion isn’t unusual.

  Normally, I’m venting about working for Powers Enterprises by now.

  “Nothing’s going on, and I like it. You should too, Mama.”

  “Well, I would if I knew why. That boss of yours has you busy and madder than a wet hen by now.”

  “He’s no longer my boss!” I squeal. “I quit an hour ago!”

  She chuckles. “If you sound this good, I guess you should’ve quit a long time ago.”

  I pinch the phone between my shoulder and ear, forking food into my mouth. “My thoughts exactly. How is everyone?”

  “Well, your father is still here and his heart condition isn’t getting any worse, so I’m grateful for that. Oh, and your brother is going to be a father. Gabriela’s pregnant.”

  My fork clatters into the plate. “I’m going to be an auntie?”

  I love children. If I ever meet the right man, I’ll love my own so much more.

  “Yes, you are, Amari, and I’m going to be a grandmother.” Her tinkling laughter fills the receiver. She is overjoyed about her first grandchild.

  God knows she’s harassed her children enough about giving her some for years. I can’t because I don’t have what Brandon has with Gabriela. I won’t, if I don’t get out into the dating world.

  “How far along is she? How does Brandon feel?”

  “He walks around with his chest puffed out like he hung the damn moon. Gabriela is six weeks and sick every afternoon. Don’t know why they call it morning sickness. Must’ve been a man who thought of that name for it. Anyway, she and Brandon told me and Mitchum today. Now, I’m telling you. When are you coming up? Mitchum and I haven’t seen our baby girl since Easter.”

  “I miss you both too, Mama.”

  “Good, now come up tomorrow,” she demands. “Seeing you a few days after your birthday is better than not seeing you at all.”

  I scoff, as if I hadn’t planned the trip as a surprise anyway. “Fine, Mama. You talked me into it.”

  “Good. We’ll have some of your favorite foods when you get here. Are you staying overnight?”

  I mull that over. I hadn’t thought about spending the night, mainly because I wanted to join Candleton’s nightlife as soon as possible. Waiting one more day to make my mother happy won’t hurt anything. I’ll just have to get up in time Friday morning to avoid the heavy morning traffic.

  “Okay, I’ll stay until Friday.”

  “Glad to hear it, Amari. Now, I have to go make your bed up and let your father know you’re coming and that he needs to go to the store. Oh, I need to make a list, or he’ll come back the way he went.”

  “Empty-handed!” we chant together.

  “Alright, Amari. Call me before you leave so I’m here when you arrive. I love you, baby girl.”

  “Love you too, Mama. Give my love to everyone else. Bye.”

  After hanging up, the day and night pass just how I want them to, free of anything consisting of work. Every now and again, during the break in the television shows, Mr. Powers slips into my thoughts. My middle curdles. I prompt myself to stop thinking about him, then stick to that advice rigidly. Then comes the next break for commercials.

  Fortunately, I drift off to sleep, until red dots appearing behind my eyelids forces me to open them to the morning ball of fire in the sky that’s causing them. I pop up from the suede upholstery of my sofa, then load the dishwasher with last night’s dishes. After taking a leisure shower, washing away the last of Powers Enterprise, I stand, examining the woman in the mirror in front of the single-sink beneath a mirror topped with a trio of large light bulbs.

  Today is the first day of the rest of your life, Amari. Make it count for something.

  With a nod, I strip the common ponytail from the back of my head and begin a morning routine that I have every intention of keeping up. Thirty minutes tick away before I’m satisfied with my hair flowing like a wavy curtain down my back and a thin layer of foundation that makes me look airbrushed. I coat the gift of long eyelashes from my mother with mascara, the duplicate set of her lips with gloss, and unplug the curling irons that I’ll take with me on my trip.

 
In the top of the small closet at the foot of the bed, I locate a fake Burberry duffel bag. As I pull it down, the doorbell sounds off. I freeze, wondering who would be visiting me. Sheryl is at work already, probably wondering where I am. I don’t know any of my neighbors well enough to do more than speak in passing in the hallways. I haven’t had time for getting to know many people in Candleton while working for Powers Enterprises.

  The bell chimes again, stirring me into action. I toss the bag on the bed, snatch a satiny, black housecoat from a hanger, and pull it on while moving for the front door. The damn bell rings again.

  “I’m coming!” I shout. “Keep your shirt on.”

  Through the peephole, I get a distorted view of my visitor. I can tell it’s a man who’s tall, staring down the hallway, with black hair, and that’s all. All I need to make my stomach drop.

  “Who is it?” I ask warily.

  “Camron Powers! Is Amari Spencer in?”

  Air whooshes out of me. I was so hoping it was another tall, black-haired man. He’s not supposed to be here. We have nothing else to say to one another, besides whether I should pick it up my last check at the human resource department or wait for it to arrive in the mail.

  I drop my forehead against the door. I wanted my first day to go well as the new Amari, well, the Amari I used to be when I still had time to comb my hair and wear attractive clothes. The last time that happened, I was in college, when Mr. Powers wasn’t mucking up a perfectly good day.

  And he won’t again. This is just a hiccup in the rest of your life. Now, answer the door.

  I fling it open. “What can I do for you, Mr. Powers?”

  His mouth falls open as if I surprised him. He rakes his eyes over me. When warmth rushes up from my bare toes to my chest, I grow disturbed. A cold draft wraps around my legs where the robe stops midthigh. I should’ve put on more clothes, like a jogging suit. Why is he looking at me like that anyway?

  “Mr. Powers,” I call through clamped lips.

  His attention snaps up to my face then he grins. “Hello, Amari.”