Vegas Surrender Page 3

  At the end of the session, we thanked her and made our way home. Daniel had come straight from work so we rode in separate cars. I pulled up next to him at the light, and the memories of our first meeting came rushing back.

  I dodged in an out traffic on my way for an appointment. With the delays from rush hour traffic on I85, I was running late. As soon as I had an open break, I pushed down on the gas pedal and jumped off the exit. My business had taken a hit by the economy but this potential client would make a big difference. The family owned most of the casinos in North Carolina, Illinois, and Ohio. Due to my expertise, one of my high-paying individual clients had put in a referral.

  “Hey, buddy, the light’s green! Freaking go!” I screamed to the guy driving the car in front of me as I blew my horn to get his attention.

  The car didn’t move. I whipped into the left lane to try and go around him. The light turned back red, and I fumed. I turned my head to face the driver and give him the death stare. To my surprise, he smiled.

  “I don’t know what the heck you’re smiling at.”

  The light turned green again. I pushed on the gas, put a little distance between us, then moved back into the right lane in order to make my turn into the parking garage. Within a few moments, I parked my car and was off to my destination. I followed the signs for the entrance into the W Hotel and made my way on the elevator. Just as the door was closing, a hand slid in and popped them back open. It was the guy who refused to drive. I rolled my eyes and moved over, giving us space.

  “You look really nice.” He leaned his body against the back wall. The spicy scent of his cologne filled the small space.

  “Thanks.” Why couldn’t he be like most people in an elevator and say nothing?

  The elevator dinged at the lobby. He held his hand out and allowed me to walk first. I nodded my thanks and speed walked to the bar area of the restaurant. I hated meetings in hotel restaurants but did so to accommodate my clients. Not seeing the older gentleman who I’d communicated via Skype with, I took a seat at the bar and ordered a ginger ale.

  “Mind if I join you?” The non-driver’s hazel eyes were on me.

  “I’m not going to be here long, but sure, why not?”

  “Daniel.” He extended his hand after taking a seat on the barstool next to me.

  Our hands connected, his large hand covering my small one, and I felt a slight electric charge. I withdrew my fingers and sat them on the bar. “Jennifer, and I’m waiting on some people to arrive for a meeting.”

  “That will explain why you look so nice.”

  Was he flirting with me? I gave him the once over. Dark brown hair, so dark it almost looked black. Nice white straight teeth. Beard—low but hadn’t been trimmed up that morning and was a contrast to the business suit he wore. He had a sexy rugged look about him, even if he was shorter than I preferred. Outside of eye color and height, he resembled Paul Walker. Secretly I’d been a huge Fast and Furious fan and had a crush on Paul Walker for years.

  “Thank you.”

  “What time is this meeting?”

  I looked at the clock on the bar wall. “Five minutes ago.”

  “And may I ask with whom?”

  He was being a bit nosey, but I answered anyway. Not like I had much else to do. “A Mr. Whitman.”

  “Owner of all the casinos? He used to be with Mr. Trump, didn’t he?”

  “That would be him.”

  He shook his head. “Oh, he can’t make it.”

  I took a sip off my ginger ale. “And you would know because?”

  “Because I was sent to fill in for him. I saw your picture off your business website, and I must say it doesn’t do you any justice.”

  My mouth dropped. “Mr. um…”

  “Daniel Ross, but Daniel’s fine.”

  “Daniel,” I started uncomfortably. How many of my not–so-ladylike hand gestures did he see? “Would you like to move to a booth?”

  “Not really. Mr. Whitman already has his mind made up. After doing my research, I must say I agree. We’ll be going with you. Now, that that is out the way, how about joining me for a real drink?”

  I sat dumbfounded.

  He waved his hand, motioning for the bartender. “I’d like a dirty martini. And, the lady…”

  “The same.”

  The bartender took the order and walked away from us. Over the course of two hours, I found out Daniel and I had a lot in common. We exchanged numbers and began dating. A year and a half later, we were married. Daniel had swept me off my feet, but in the recent years, something was missing.

  I let go of those thoughts as I neared our house. Daniel stood in the garage, waiting for me to pull in and open my door. Always the gentleman. I had to prepare for a client the next day, and Daniel had a late Skype conference call. So much for finishing up later. I fell asleep before he even made it to the bed.

  Chapter Five

  “Jennifer, Dolores Green is on the line.” Kathy’s voice rang out of my speaker phone before sending the call through.

  “Hello, Dolores.”

  “Jennifer, how are you, darling?”

  I knew that tone. Dolores wanted something. She was one of my better clients but always looked for extras in some way. She paid for them, though, so I shouldn’t complain.

  “Great, Dolores, what can I do for you today?”

  My Facebook window sat open on Daniel’s page. I noticed a new friend request but ignored it and focused on Dolores.

  “I need twenty thousand released. I want to make an investment,” she said in her fake British accent.

  I’d laughed when I found out Dolores had been born and raised in Jonesboro, Arkansas. She moved up north for college and met her husband. His entire family was in the banking industry. She made a complete transformation from a country bumpkin. When her husband passed at an early age twenty years prior, she’d fared well. She returned to the south and reinvented herself.

  “It’s your money. You may do as you please. I’d like to know what the investment is for, though.” This was how I handled all of my clients. I affirmed their money was theirs yet made sure they informed me of their intent so I could guide their hand. This stopped them from feeling like they had to request permission from me.

  “A dear friend of mine’s son is starting his own business, and he needs startup money. He came to me because he wanted me in on his great deal. I’m assured we’d make a lot of money,” she gushed.

  “And what is this business?” I held my breath.

  “He wants to start a life insurance company.”

  Red flags went off in my head. Unlicensed sales and internet scams were at the top for senior citizens. Not to mention the numerous unsolicited emails I received, trying to offer me a great sales position as an agent due to my resume, a resume I’d never submitted or was on any career site for them to have reviewed. “Does he have a broker license or any history working with an insurance company? Also did he or your friend contact you?”

  “I’ve been friends with Gloria now for over thirty-two years. I know all her boys, but as I recall, it’s been years since I’ve seen Chris. He contacted me by phone the other day. I don’t know anything about licensing or things of that nature.” Her usually cheery voice took on a defensive undertone.

  “Dolores, I tell you what. Let me do a bit of research and get back to you on this one.”

  My hands sped across my keyboard. I started the internet search almost before we said our goodbyes. I assumed Colver was Chris’s last name, like his mother’s. In less than fifteen minutes, his rap sheet flashed on the screen. No wonder he hadn’t been around his family. He’d been locked up the last three years for running Ponzi Schemes. He had a record in two different states. I clicked print in order to have the information to give to Dolores in a few days. She wasn’t too fond of technology. Giving it to her too soon would freak her out. I had to pretend I actually contacted the authorities for the information.

  My search finished, I went back
to my husband’s Facebook page. Cynthia Trapp was a new friend. The profile picture was of a close-up of the woman’s lips. I wasn’t impressed and clicked on her page. Her status was married, and her wall posts were about her kids and cooking.

  Probably one of his friend’s from college or high school.

  Glancing in the right corner of my PC, I noticed the time. It was time to head out for date night. I adjusted the mouse to the logoff button as a notification popped up. It was a friend request from the same woman. I’d answer from my tablet later on. I X’d off the networking site and logged off my PC.

  “Night, Kathy. See you in the morning.” I gave her a nod and waved on my way out.

  “Night.”

  I had no doubt she’d probably be surfing the internet for her last hour there. I didn’t mind. She did her job well.

  Gridlocked traffic slowed my ride, but I still managed to make it home with enough time to change for our date. I didn’t plan on being in the house long so I parked in the driveway and entered through the front door. Sheba nipping at my heels and the aroma of food cooking greeted me. I walked into the living room and spotted lit candles in the dining room next to it.

  I stood there, staring at the set table we hadn’t used since we’d moved in the house. We ate in the kitchen, in our offices, or in the living room, but the dining room had become a part of the décor. The white burning flames pulled me into a trance and into the room.

  Moving closer, I caught sight of a bucket of ice with wine in it as the center piece instead of the vase with fake flowers. Clanking to my left drew my attention to the kitchen.

  “Daniel?” The food smelled so good I wasn’t sure who to expect.

  “Get settled and have a seat, love,” he replied from the other room. “And no, you can’t come in the kitchen.”

  I rushed upstairs and did a quick wash-up. Though I’d sat in an office all day and took a shower in the morning, it was my routine to wash again when I came home. I slipped into a summer dress though it was far from summer outside. It was spring and the high so far had been seventy-two degrees, but I wanted to be comfortable.

  When I made my way downstairs, a smiling Daniel stood in the living room, his arms held out wide. “Welcome to date night.”

  He pulled out a chair for me, and I took a seat. After picking up the wine glass from the setting in front of me, Daniel poured me a glass of the white liquid. He handed it to me, kissed my neck, and headed back to the kitchen. A few minutes later, he returned with a covered dish. “For you, love.” He removed the top.

  My stomach growled at the pan-seared scallops with pesto and tomatoes. “When… How?”

  “Funny what you can learn on the internet. Courtesy of Rachel Ray.”

  I beamed at him and the dish. Pulling him close, I landed a big kiss on his lips. “I’m impressed.”

  He smiled at me and headed back into the kitchen. This time, he returned with his own plate of food. After taking a seat, he grabbed my hand. “Thank you for not giving up on us.”

  “Not in a million years. I love you. I love us. We just got so busy we forgot to make time for us.” I looked into his eyes, hoping he could see all the love I had for him reflected through mine. He was my soul mate. I knew it long before we went to Vegas. Somewhere along the lines, love had gotten filed on the shelf with work, bills, and life. Once taken down and dusted off, it sparked and fired up just like new.

  “I love you too. Now, please take a bite of your food before it gets cold.”

  I took a bite, and the flavors melted on my tongue. “You’ve been practicing. There is no way you got it this perfect on the first try.”

  He winked at me and continued chewing on his own meal. I smiled back at him, took another bite, and washed it down with a swallow of wine. We made small talk until we both finished. I tried taking my plate into the kitchen, but Daniel stopped me.

  “Let me. Enjoy your drink.” He refilled my glass and whisked my plate away.

  I took a long swallow and held the glass. My body relaxed in the chair. It felt great to come home to a meal instead of being the one to cook or going out. A sultry jazz tune played in the background, and I turned my attention to the living room. Daniel bent over and fiddled with buttons on the iPod tower.

  He stood and looked in my direction. “Join me.”

  I set my glass down and made my way over to him. He wrapped me up in his arms and held me tight. His embraced provided all the security I’d ever needed. No other man had ever made me feel as he did.

  “Dance with me.”

  Daniel hated slow dancing. He wanted to be closer to me. I enjoyed the way he went about it. I wrapped myself in his outstretched arms and took in the spicy scent of his cologne. The smell brought back memories of cold winter nights with us wrapped up in a blanket in front of the fireplace. He was the same man I’d fallen in love with. I couldn’t ask for a kinder, more caring partner.

  The music filled the room as I rested my head on his chest, listening to the rhythm of his strong heartbeat.

  “Jen.”

  I looked up into his eyes and saw passion. The candlelight flickered, reflecting off them. The many shades of brown and green hues did a seductive dance.

  His brow knitted as he gazed down at me. “I don’t care what the shrink says. I was never on the verge of divorcing you, nor would I let you leave me. You’re my heart.” His lips covered mine, and an electric current shot down the back of my neck and to the crease of my thighs. He slowly walked me to the couch.

  He removed my dress and tossed it to the floor. His hand went between my thighs, grazing the silkiness of my underwear. We finished off the evening with the sweetest of deserts.

  Chapter Six

  I pulled up to the parking garage of Lenox Square Mall and found a spot close as I could to the front entrance without having to valet. Blowing out a breath, I stepped out the car. Going shopping ranked just as high as going to the dentist in my book. The weather forecast called for clear skies, but the dark clouds off in the distance told another story. I put my mini umbrella in my purse just in case and proceeded inside.

  Tina stood on the other side of the entrance with a frown on her face. “Why are you wearing flats?”

  I looked from my shoes to her four-inch Red Bottoms and shrugged. “Because I want to be comfortable while you drag me from store to store. It’s not like they’re tennis shoes. Plus I’m not the Fashion Queen, that’s you.”

  Her frown faded a little. “I guess. But this trip is for you not me.”

  We headed away from the entrance. Labels didn’t call out to me as they did my sister. If an item looked nice, I didn’t care who made it. Unfortunately, owning my own business required me to do otherwise.

  It took money to make money, and I came to realize potential clients were more receptive when I donned designer tags. Atlanta considered itself one of the fashion capitals, and I needed to fall in line, especially within the black community. My clothing was a sign of my own financial status as well as my husband’s.

  “Is this event formal or little black dress?” Tina asked as we neared her favorite store, Michael Kors.

  “I’m thinking little black dress. The casino crowd is a fun bunch.”

  We weren’t in the store a full minute before my mind started processing the price tags. Daniel and I both brought in a substantial income, but there was a time when I didn’t. One outfit in there could easily blow nearly a month’s worth of pay before I started my consulting firm.

  Tina held up a black dress with the price tag of seven hundred and fifty dollars.

  Car note plus insurance. I shook my head.

  She shoved the dress back on the rack. “Do you even want to go to this thing?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Then act like it and help me look for your dress!”

  We left the store. Her long legs out matched mine as we made our way to the next destination. I winced as we stepped inside another high end retailer.

&nbs
p; “Tina!” a male sales associate called out. His eyebrows were arched to perfection, and he walked better than me in the heels he wore. “Girl, where have you been?”

  They hugged and blew each other fake kisses.

  “Around. Look.” She pointed at me. “This is my sister, and we need a killer dress for her to wear to an event. She’s married to a white guy, and the dress needs to send a statement to the white women to know they don’t stand a chance.”

  I rolled my eyes. What did whom I’m married to or the fact that I am married at all have to do with anything with getting a dress? Yes, I’ve encountered women who felt they should be the object of my husband’s affection in the past, but not once had Daniel ever made me doubt his love.

  From now on, I was keeping my stories to myself instead of telling blabbermouth.

  “Honey.” He bobbed his head up and down. I felt like a lab specimen. “I have a white man, and these old crows know better. Follow me.” He did a twirl and walked off.

  I held back a laugh as I followed along, watching him rip the mock runway. Five dresses later, I found the one—or given up on trying on anymore. It was a simple with a small swoop in the front and an exaggerated V-dip in the back.

  “Are you happy now?” I asked my sister.

  “Yes. One day, you’re going to let me completely have my way instead of getting these onesie twosie outfits for you.”

  “One day.” I checked the time on my watch. “I need to get to my office. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

  I left Tina to finish her own shopping and headed to the other side of town. Kathy greeted me with a smile and my messages as I walked in the building. Two were from my current clients and one from a prospective, Cynthia Trapp.

  Dolores was first on my list to call once I was settled in my office.

  “Good afternoon, Jennifer,” she said.

  “Hello, Dolores. Do you have a moment?” I clicked on the file I saved.