What They Don't Know (Won't Hurt Them Trilogy #1)

by O. Y. Flemming

  “Okay, what time and where?”

  “At 8 p.m., at the Vodka Bar.”

  “Great,” I say with sarcasm in my voice.

  “What? What's wrong with the Vodka Bar?”

  “Nothing, nothing. I'll be there, just let me go home and change.”

  “I'm sure you look fine.”

  “Yeah, in office attire?”

  “Sexy office assistant look, yeah, I like that,” he says devilishly.

  I can hear him smiling.

  “Bryant, I'm going home.”

  “You need any help?”

  “No, I'll be just fine.”

  “Are you sure? Sometimes women need a little help.”

  “I'm sure. I'll be quicker if you aren't around.”

  “Shit, if quick is what you want.”

  “Bryant, goodbye,” I laugh.

  “All right, Bree, see you in a few.”

  “Okay”

  “Bree?”

  “Yeah, Bry?”

  “I appreciate your friendship. I think it would have been weird.”

  “Yeah,” I say.

  “Love you, baby cakes; see you later.”

  “Love you too, Bry; see you.”

  “Don't be late,” he says quickly.

  “OKAAAY!”

  * * *

  I hang up with Bryant, as I pull up to my house. I figure it’s going to take me twenty minutes to get back to the Vodka Bar. I keep my blouse on and turn it into an off-the-shoulder number. I change into different heels just to feel sexy, just the way Bryant likes for me to be. Wait, am I trying to be sexy for Bryant? No, I'm not; I'm being sexy for me. Am I? I am. If Bryant notices, then it’s a win. If his new colleague notices… then it’s win-win. I finish up and leave the house with a few minutes to spare.

  When I arrive at the Vodka Bar, I scan the parking lot. I spot Bryant’s car right away. I circle the lot again to get a spot near the entrance, because walking far is not an option in these shoes. As I’m entering the bar, I see a car come into the parking lot. It looks like… It looks like an Infiniti G37 Convertible Coupe.

  “Holy shit.” I hurry into the bar to avoid being spotted, if it’s that ass of a man. I want to be as far out of his sight as I possibly can be. I scan the small crowd; I find Bryant right away. He's toward the back in a booth. Great, a booth, out of sight. I make my way toward him and Bryant stands to hug me. I return the hug tightly and quickly take a seat. He eyes me curiously.

  “Hey, what are you drinking?” I question.

  “Well, water for now, waiting on Cruz.”

  “Cruz?”

  “Yeah, new colleague,” he says as if I forgot.

  “Oh, you never mentioned his name.”

  “Yeah, he's an investor and small business owner.”

  “How did you meet?”

  “He owns, well, silently co-owns, a chain of health clubs. I'm a member of one of them.”

  My inner-body has just shut down. I can't breathe.

  “Wanted you guys to meet because of your financial input.”

  I'm gasping for a breath, as I calmly try to speak.

  “What did you say his name was?”

  “Cruz, Cruz King.”

  Fuuuck! I silently scream in my head.

  “I need to run to the bathroom right quick.”

  “Okay, hurry back. He just texted; he's pulling up.”

  I make it to the bathroom, and I'm still experiencing inner-body issues. What the fuck am I going to do? I was his 7:30 that didn't show. Oh God, my stomach convulses as I dry heave. Slow, deep breaths for a few minutes and two sticks of gum are needed to calm me. Okay, Bria. Man up, get your ass out there. Big chick panties, check. Balls of steel, check. Let's do this! I'm my own hype man.

  I step out of the ladies’ room and spot our booth from where I am. Yep, that's that ass all right. Fuckin’ Cruz King. My stomach is turning flips like those Jesse White tumblers. I'm damn near dry heaving again. I try to calm myself as I walk toward the booth. I feel like sprinting the other way. Shit, I can run in heels with no problem; this bitch will pull a Flo Jo in some pumps. If an opportunity presents itself. I take deep breaths as I get closer to the booth. Bryant stands to greet me, as well as Pool King. He turns around with a million-dollar smile, and his smile turns into a devilish smirk as he looks me up and down. He grabs my hand to shake; however, more transpires with the movement of our hands. His index finger rubs the inside of my palm, while his other hand covers my hand completely. My body is warm.

  “Cruz, this is Bria Watts, my best friend.” Bryant introduces us like the professional businessman he is. “Bria, this is Cruz King, hopefully, my new business colleague.”

  “Nice to meet you, Bria? Bria, did you say?” He knows damn well that’s what he said.

  “Yes,” we both answer in unison.

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. King.” I try to stifle a smile.

  “Please, call me, Cruz.”

  “Cruz, nice to meet you.” He lets go of my hand, as I make my way to Bryant's side of the booth. He escorts me there with his hand on the small of my back. I can’t help but feel my body shutter. Bryant must notice my lack of comfort, because he takes over the escort by placing his hand too… on the small of my back.

  Holy hell, this is too much for my body to take today. The heat from both of their hands sparks my core. There isn’t much to my panties, so I’m sure they could melt between my thighs.

  “Wow,” I say. Shit, did I just say that aloud? I only took a few steps, down boys. They are really making me feel uncomfortable. We all sit, as I try not to look across the table.

  “Cruz was just telling me about his meeting prior to this. It was a no show,” Bryant informs me. “He thought you weren't coming as well. I told him you were in the ladies’ room. I also informed him you're an on-time kind of woman, and you crush deadlines with your heels.” We all laugh.

  “Well, that's not all I crush with my heels.” I smile, as I cut my eyes toward Cruz. He gives me a raised eyebrow.

  “Yeah, I thought maybe my client didn't get the messages; who knows.” He shrugs. “No worries, I'm confident I’ll get that one back.”

  “Hmmm, a little confident are we?” I ask.

  “Nah, I just know women quite well.”

  “Oh, your client is a woman?”

  “Of course. I allow my female team leads to meet with the male clients who attempt to cancel. It’s a manipulating marketing scheme, but it’s effective.”

  Definitely, the friends’ episode.

  “Is that what it’s about, cancelling a membership?” I laugh.

  “You laugh, but we really value our customers.”

  “Oh, is that so?”

  “Yes,” he says. I laugh again.

  “Bria, didn't you tell me you joined a health club a few months back?” Bryant chimes in on the conversation.

  “Yeah, which one?” Cruz asks. I have to think fast, because these gyms are popping up everywhere. I’m not sure what else Mr. King owns.

  “The only other Big Chain there is,” I coyly respond.

  He grabs his chest as if he’s hurt by my revelation.

  “That hurts, Ms. Watts, really hurts.” I smile at his gesture.

  “Not enough obviously,” I whisper.

  “So, what exactly do you do in the financial world, Bria?”

  “I am a financial analyst advisor.”

  “Sweet, for whom?”

  Shit, I can't lie while Bryant is next to me.

  “A very well-known company.”

  “Is that right, does it have a name?”

  “It does and because of legal issues—”

  “Oh, yeah, that's right,” Bryant interrupts. “She really can't say until Monday, right, Bree?”

  “Yes, that is correct.” I pinch Bryant under the table.

  “Ouch! What the hell!”

  I turn to Bryant and smile with my teeth. “Don't call me that,” I whisper.

  “What, is this a lover's
quarrel I'm witnessing?” Cruz asks.

  “No. She doesn't like me calling her by her nickname.”

  “Ah ha, so no lover's quarrel?”

  I'm silent as Bryant looks to me as he speaks. “No, I'm afraid not.” It looks like it took everything in him to say.

  “Okay,” Cruz says with his hand on his chin, his very sexy, chiseled chin. God, what’s wrong with me. Ugh.

  “Are we ready to order?” Bryant breaks the silence.

  “Yes,” Cruz, and I both answer.

  Bryant signals for the waitress, as she walks over Bryant smiles at her. Cruz orders, never taking his eyes off me. My eyes are everywhere but where he is. Our orders are taken, and Cruz suggests a very fresh red wine.

  “No, thank you.”

  Bryant eyes me. “Why not? It’s Friday and it’s your favorite.”

  I just laugh because Bryant is really digging me a grave. “I guess I'll have a glass, being it’s Friday and all.”

  “Good, you look like you had a long, stressful week. You could use a drink or two,” Cruz says making an observant suggestion.

  “Is that so?”

  “Yeah, probably have pricks inappropriately approaching you every day.”

  I side-eye him. He can't be serious.

  “I'd probably do the same thing, if I weren’t an ethical businessman.”

  This sonofabitch is serious. Bryant laughs.

  “Not this one, buddy.” Bryant points at me. “She's a hard ass, number one ball-buster,” he says.

  I just shake my head because Cruz loves every minute of my best friend confessions. I wish he would just shut up.

  “Excuse me. I need to go to the gentlemen’s room.”

  Bryant stands to leave the booth. Shit, I want to grab his arm and go with him. I'm sure he won't mind, but I'll probably be banned. Shit! Shit! Shit! As soon as Bryant is out of sight, this ass flips his perv switch.

  “So how long you two been fucking?”

  “Excuse me,” I scoff.

  “Honey, you do know lover boy is in love with you? Bree.” He laughs, as he calls me by the nickname Bryant uses. “It's cute, seriously,” he says, still chuckling. The waitress shows up with a bottle of Sweet Red. I can stall her until Bryant returns.

  “So, why didn't you come to the club tonight?”

  Shit, I see stalling isn’t going to work with this guy.

  “There is no need to meet.”

  “Why? You don't think I have anything to offer you?” He smirks on that question. I answer immediately.

  “Absolutely not. You don’t have anything to offer me.”

  “Ahh, okay. Ma'am, can you please bring her some lemon water?” He’s a sneaky bastard to send the waitress away.

  “Sure thing,” the waitress says nicely. Cruz’s eyes never leave my direction.

  “So you never answered my questions.”

  ‘What?” I say, now irritated.

  “How long have you and Mr. Lover Boy been fucking? And how long has he been in love with you?”

  “None of your business.”

  “So you are fucking? Psssh, that ends tonight.”

  “What? Excuse me?”

  “Yeah, the only cock you'll want to feel from here on out is mine. So tell Mr. Lover boy, your pussy is no longer avail…”

  This motherf—. I don't know what I'm more disgusted with, him or my moist middle. There’s no way he can have this effect on me by speaking. I just stare at him as he sips his wine. The motherfucker is smooth… This fucking guy.

  “Sorry about that, man. I had to take a call.”

  “Everything okay, Bryant?” I ask, concerned.

  “Oh yeah, good news actually.”

  “Great, that's good.”

  “All I need is for this guy to give me more good news,” he says as he points to Cruz. I pick up my wine and start to sip.

  “Well, it depends on this lady here.” Cruz points to me. I almost spit my wine across the table. Yeah, real cool and lady-like, Bria, I say to myself.

  “Oh so you two discussed it already?” Bryant asks.

  “Um, exactly what are we talking about?”

  “That you'll be my financial advisor on this project,” Cruz finally reveals.

  My heart jumps out of my chest. “Oh, um. I'm kind of taking on another project for my boss, and I need to focus on that right now. I can refer you to someone. Bryant will give you all of his information; he's brilliant.”

  “Bree, stop it. So are you.” He rubs my shoulder; I can see Cruz grinding his teeth. “This will be great exposure for you, Bree. It won't be for a few months anyway.”

  “No, I would want to get started right away.”

  “Like how soon?” Bryant questions.

  “Like Monday,” Cruz replies.

  “I'm sorry, I just can't; my financial budget is due Monday. I haven't even started it. I really need to focus on that.” I'd say anything to get the hell out of this. Bryant raises his eyebrows in question.

  “Tell you about it later.” He nods.

  “Well, Bryant, how quick can you get me another advisor?”

  “I have all of Tony’s information on my laptop at home.” I interrupt. “I can have it to you tonight. Bryant, I'll email it to you when I get home.”

  “Or you can just email it to the intended person,” Cruz insists.

  Bryant laughed and says, “Yeah, Bree, or you can do that.” I grab my phone and look at Cruz.

  “What's your email address?”

  “Cking69@fitworld.com,” he rattles off.

  I don't even comment. I can't, he's too much.

  “Great, you'll have it before midnight.”

  Bryant coughs as if he's trying to get my attention. I hear “Tomorrow” from Bryant’s supposed cough. I feel heat rush to my face. Bryant is insinuating he'll be staying over tonight. All I can do is occupy myself with my phone. I glance up. Cruz has a slightly disgusted look on his face. I'm sure he heard Bryant.

  “Hey, Bryant, say we stick around later and do a little bar hopping to celebrate great business ventures.”

  Bryant grabs Cruz's hand and shakes it excitedly. “Hell yeah, absolutely, man.”

  “Congrats, fellas.” I hold up my wine to toast.

  “You should come with us, Bree.”

  “No, I'm beat. I need to get some rest.”

  “Sure, sure,” Bryant agrees.

  “Besides, men’s night out. I can't interfere with that.”

  Our food arrives and I'm starving. I attempt to eat my salmon salad. Bryant eyes it like he's curious. He sticks his fork in my salad, pulls out a chunk of salmon and a few pieces of lettuce. He sniffs it before he sticks it in his mouth.

  “Neanderthal.”

  “Yeah and you love it,” he retorts.

  I just shake my head.

  Cruz laughs and comments. “You might want to let her eat. She could use a little more weight.”

  “That's what I've been telling her; she's always worried about her weight.”

  “Skinny women are just that, skinny,” Cruz says.

  “Exactly,” Bryant responds.

  “Uh, hello, I'm sitting right here.” They both look at me and shrug.

  “Effin men.”

  I offer to pay my portion of the bill when I finish my salad. They both look at me as if they are offended.

  “What? I'm capable.”

  “I know, Bree; I asked you to dinner.”

  “Okay, Bryant,” I nonchalantly say to him.

  “I got this, man,” Cruz offers.

  “It's cool. I got it,” Bryant says. “You pay for drinks tonight.”

  “Fine.” Cruz pockets his wallet.

  “Let me walk her to her car, and we're good to go.”

  “That's cool. I'm going to hit the john.”

  Bryant escorts me out with his arm around my shoulder, and his head leaning on mine. I glance over toward the restrooms. I can see Cruz's face. It’s serious and his jawline is moving. If he grinds his te
eth any harder, he will gnaw his gums.

  “All right, Bree, if I'm not too wasted, can I come by?”

  “Sure, Bry, don't get too drunk. If you do, call me, and I'll come get you.”

  “Okay, but I won't; you know I won't. You look good tonight by the way.” Win!

  “Thank you.” I flutter my eyelashes.

  “You do that too much; your eyelids will get stuck in one of those positions.”

  “Whatever,” I chuckle. He kisses me on my cheek.

  “Tonight, m'lady.”

  Just as he turns, Cruz comes over to my car. “Let the lady go home, lover boy. She'll be fine.”

  “She will be as soon as I get back to her. Let's do this!” Bryant bellows out.

  “Let's.”

  My heart is on the floor of my car. Cruz turns around, and mouths, “Ends tonight.”

  I'm not sure how I feel about Cruz taking some kind of ownership over me. Well, not me, just the lower part of me. She seems to be excited. Tonight’s conversation invades my thoughts on my drive home. I can hardly focus. Cruz’s demand for me to cut sexual ties with Bryant. The way Bryant seemed hurt by us not making our friendship a relationship. It’s a lot to settle within my head right now. Again, Cruz’s presumptuous demands; where does he get off? I'm not sure I can send him an email without being bitchy because of his brazen attitude. I'll CC Bryant just in case; that way it'll be more professional.

  * * *

  I'm home and showered in less than an hour. I sit at my desk in my room and fire up my laptop. As a lady of my word, I copy Tony’s profile and attach it to the subject line of the email.

  Good evening gentlemen,

  As I promised, Tony's profile is attached. You can contact him on Monday.

  I will also email him the details of the business and what is expected.

  Then you can schedule a meeting with him. Hopefully, he fits the profile of what you two are looking for.

  Regards,

  B. Watts

  Financial Analyst Advisor

  Before I can shut down my laptop, a message comes through. I see it reads Cking69@Kingindustries.com. That isn’t the email address he gave me. I open it anyway. He works very quickly or I’m just slow.

  Good evening, Honey,

  I wish you had left a call back number. I would like to speak with you regarding your decision not to work with me on this project. I hear your input is a great help to Mr. Morgan. I feel you can be a great asset to our team. If you will reconsider, I'd appreciate your knowledge on this matter.