If I Had You Page 6

  “Brent, yoo-hoo.” A woman standing near the registration table waved her hand madly at him.

  “Hi, Francine. It’s good to see you.” He submitted to her kissing each of his cheeks. The woman wanted so badly to be British, and it was always painful to listen to her faux accent.

  “Didn’t know you were in town. I told you to look me up the next time you were here.” She slid her hand between his arm and his body, then pressed her breast against his arm.

  “I’m only popping in. I’ve got a busy day tomorrow, along with it being a long one.” He attempted to extricate his arm, but her hand tightened.

  “Have a drink with me?”

  Brent nodded, but this time he peeled her fingers off his arm. The woman had a grip like a python. He headed for the bar. She didn’t let him out of her sight as she stayed on his flank.

  “Cheers.” She toasted. “Why are you playing hard to get?” She wiggled her shoulders.

  “It’s not a game.”

  “I’d hope not.” Her mouth shaped into a pout.

  “Have you seen your father?” Brent had no intention of being caught up in Francine’s crazy fantasies. Dealing with the record label and with her father, the CEO, made the situation particularly dicey.

  “Daddy is here chatting it up with the European bigwigs. Brent, please dance with me.” Francine threw up her hands and danced provocatively in front of him.

  A female body that had been fine-tuned to perfection didn’t escape unnoticed by him. That didn’t mean that he didn’t have discerning tastes when it came to actually socializing with the woman. If he could have a straightforward conversation with Francine, he’d be able to explain their incompatibility. Something was lacking in her, and it had nothing to do with her physical self.

  He was more inclined to look for that inner beauty that seemed indefinable. Yet he could sense the quality, like he had when he was in Charisse’s company on the first night they’d met.

  “If you keep standing there like a statue, you’ll make me think that you don’t want to be with me.” She tiptoed and leaned close to his ear. “You don’t have to worry about daddy finding out.” She blew into his ear.

  Brent brushed his ear, more irritated than turned on.

  “Francine, if you don’t mind, I need to talk to Brent.”

  “Sure, Daddy.” Francine slid herself off his body and walked away with her hips bouncing with ever more emphatic beats.

  “Good to see you, Brent.”

  “Mr. Caldwell, how are you?” Brent could do without the hearty handshake and heavy arm around his shoulders. He didn’t know if the welcome was business or personal.

  “I’m a happy camper. We’ve got acts that are hitting the charts in their debut. Others have nabbed some key nominations. Your solo act, Tairelle, is gaining a fan base with the young women that’s unbelievable.”

  Brent nodded.

  “Not sure where your head is at, but we are pleased with the advance copies of the sample songs. The single collaboration with that Miami reggaeton group is soaring up the charts. All the clubs are playing it.”

  “All good news.” Brent already knew the details of his artists. He made sure his team kept up with their progress, in case they had to make any quick adjustments.

  “Got anyone else you want me to take a look at?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Well, you know what to do.” Caldwell smacked him on the shoulder and offered a curt nod.

  Brent felt as if he should stand at attention and not move until Caldwell was out of sight. The man ran over anyone who didn’t get out of his way fast.

  “I’ll let you get back to Francine.” Caldwell grinned like a used-car salesman before heading back into the crowd.

  The loud music kept rhythm with the pounding in Brent’s head. This scene didn’t mesh with his vibe. It was time to go.

  The second that he emerged from the building, he took a deep breath. Over his shoulder, he took note of the various celebrities still arriving. Thankfully, his car arrived in time for his escape.

  “Brent!”

  “Darn it.” Brent turned to see Francine hobbling her way to his car. Her giggling was a sure sign that she’d had too much to drink. He waited for what he knew was coming.

  “I’m not letting you out of my sight.” She pushed herself against his body.

  Brent turned his head to avoid being imprinted by her bloodred lipstick.

  “Let’s go,” she begged. “I can hardly wait for us to finally get into bed.”

  The idea of being with her triggered him into action. He held her firmly by the shoulders and pushed her away.

  “I’m going to my hotel—alone. Let’s end this on an amicable note.”

  Her eyes flashed from sleepy and provocative to cold diamonds of anger.

  “You bastard! How dare you treat me like this?”

  “Good night, Francine.” Brent got into the car. Having an argument with her in her current state wouldn’t do either one of them any good.

  From his window, he read her lips as she cursed at him. A number of passersby stopped to gawk and openly laugh. Brent closed his eyes. He couldn’t help but look forward to tomorrow evening, which he was sure would not have the drama of this night.

  Charisse didn’t mean to stay at work as late as she did. By the time she got home, took her shower and fell into bed, there were only a few more hours until her morning alarm clock would blare.

  Normally she’d be ready to go and face the mountain of things to complete. Today was a bit different. Now she sat in her office sipping on coffee, waiting for the day to begin.

  A knock on the door roused her.

  “Do you have a life beyond these four walls?” Shelby asked, walking in.

  “Didn’t expect you quite so early.” Charisse couldn’t help her mouth from opening to show how stunned she was. Shelby stood in her office in a black suit, posing as if she were at the end of a fashion runway. Her background in runway modeling was evident.

  “Okay, now you’re exaggerating. Why is my presence so shocking?”

  Charisse shrugged. Her partner didn’t need to make an appointment to talk to her or to visit the office. However, her reluctance in joining New Vision hadn’t left Charisse with much confidence that it would ever be a reality.

  “Hello, Shelby.” Tracy popped her head into the office. “Sorry, I’m late, boss.”

  Charisse waved away the apology.

  “Will you be using your office, Shelby?” Tracy asked. The corner of her mouth lifted derisively.

  Shelby shook her head. “I’ll be gone soon after I speak with Charisse.” She moved to the other side of the door and rested her hand on the knob.

  Tracy didn’t push. Like Charisse, she must have heard Shelby’s very businesslike tone. She had barely left the doorway when Shelby closed the door.

  So it was going to be like that. Charisse took a deep breath, readying herself for an encounter that was already making her stomach rumble nervously.

  “The office looks great.” Shelby flicked her hand in a way that showed off the sparkling bracelet at her wrist. “You’ve done a good job with the decorating. If I had the time, I would have brought in my decorating team. They owe me for the amount of work they’ve done in my house.” She smiled, but the effort looked cold. “You haven’t been to my parties.”

  “You didn’t invite me.”

  “We’re friends. Why on earth do you need an official invitation. Mi casa es su casa.”

  Charisse sighed. She didn’t want to dance around the issues, but obviously Shelby had such plans. The way she strolled around her office and offered lopsided smiles came across as if she were toying with her.

  “Look, Shelby, I have to
get busy. Work to do. Appointments to keep.”

  “I remember when you and I were the green ones in the office. We helped each other. We looked out for each other.”

  “And then you went your way.”

  Shelby nodded. She removed her glasses and bit the edge of the handle. “I sidestepped to climb that ladder.”

  “I know.”

  “And I haven’t stopped climbing, Charisse.”

  Charisse noted Shelby’s calm demeanor. She had always been quiet but deliberate. Today, however, there were subtle changes. Her fingers clenched and unclenched along the edge of her blouse. A soft blush that wasn’t the product of makeup bloomed on her cheeks. A muted excitement burned in her eyes, stirring chills through Charisse.

  “I’ve started my own company.”

  “What?” Charisse snapped the rubber band that she’d worked around her fingers, disregarding the slight sting of the band popping.

  “I landed that big contract at my company. Then it hit me—kind of the way your it moment suddenly hit you.”

  “It didn’t suddenly hit me.” Charisse tried to sound rational, despite her raging thoughts. “My goal has always been to have my own company.”

  “Anyway, I figured that you’d set this up.” Shelby shrugged. “This is your place, your dream.” She sniffed. “I needed my own thing.” She pointed to her chest.

  “We were going to combine resources.”

  “This is a big city. Room enough for both of us. For the moment, I’m concentrating on fashion designers and that industry.”

  “You’ve already done this?” Charisse rubbed her forehead.

  “A month ago. I have a small staff that’s the face of the company. However, next week I will have a coming-out party of sorts. I’d like for you to come.”

  Charisse stood. She had to move, get her body engaged in an activity. One foot in front of the other was her motto. Keep moving forward. She headed to her office door and opened it wide. She ignored Shelby’s call to her. Down the hall, past the framed photos, she moved as if someone had power over her body. Tracy looked up in confusion.

  Not until she stood in front of Shelby’s office did she realize why she was there.

  “Charisse, you’re scaring me.” Shelby’s voice took on a shrill note.

  “What’s going on?” Tracy whispered, as she swooped in on Charisse.

  Shelby’s name was on a plaque on the wall near the door. The care that had gone into picking the right frame and the right font didn’t matter anymore. Charisse would have to get her mind wrapped around being the sole owner of New Vision.

  Doubt did its dance in her gut. Waves of nausea swirled, ready to take her down the moment she showed any sign of weakness. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths.

  When her nerves were slightly calmer, she opened her eyes. Her gaze focused on the nameplate. She removed Shelby’s name and handed it to her.

  “Goodbye, Shelby.”

  “Charisse, you’re being childish. Let’s talk about this.”

  Tracy stayed at her side. Her rigid stance resembled a soldier ready to protect, ready to deliver a powerful blow. Despite a slight stature, she more than made up for her physical limitations with a fierce glare.

  “Jo.” Charisse stood next to the receptionist’s desk. “Could you take Shelby’s name off the telephone listing?” She was amazed at the calmness of her voice.

  “What’s next? Are you going to kick me out?” Shelby’s head bobbed at each word.

  “You know, that’s an excellent idea.”

  “Please, allow me the satisfaction.” Tracy stepped between them.

  “Don’t you dare touch me.” Shelby held her purse up as a shield.

  Charisse touched Tracy’s arm in case she’d have to restrain her overprotective assistant. Tracy didn’t move an inch. Instead, her eyes shot laser beams of venom at Shelby, who was backtracking her way to the elevator.

  Charisse turned, not bothering to wait for the elevator to arrive. Shelby’s eviction was all that mattered.

  “Is everything okay with you, Charisse?” Jo asked.

  “Yes. It will be.”

  She walked back to her office and flopped onto the couch. Her phone rang, but she ignored it. As she stared up at the skylight, she had to admit that not even the clouds drifting past could raise the curtain of funk she was in.

  “I’m not surprised,” Tracy said, closing the door.

  “Deep down inside, I knew she wasn’t coming on board.”

  “Did she get a promotion?”

  Charisse shook her head. “Opening a firm. Has opened a firm.” She looked over at Tracy. “We’re invited to the open house.”

  Tracy muttered a curse.

  “I’m going to need a moment to get used to the new arrangement.” Charisse kept her eyes closed.

  “Do you want me to cancel Brent?”

  “No.” Charisse sighed. “I should be fine by this evening. I’ll need to work on something to take my mind off…” This betrayal.

  Tracy left, allowing her some much needed space. All her calls were routed to other employees. No one had to know the turmoil beneath the surface at New Vision.

  By late afternoon, numbness had set into Charisse’s spirit. Work still had to be done. Phone calls had to be made. Now she might have to hire one or two more employees to fill in the gaps in her staff. Tracy and Jo had popped into her office to let her know they were leaving. She didn’t ask Tracy about her interview the next day. The timing couldn’t be worse. She needed more clients to make the job secure enough for Tracy. Yet she couldn’t take on more clients without someone like Tracy to assist her.

  Her cell phone rang. It was Brent. She answered.

  “I’m outside the office. The door is locked.”

  She hung up and hurried to the door.

  He stood near the elevator bank, wearing a toothy grin and holding up a bag that looked like carryout food.

  “Whatever you have smells good.” Charisse hadn’t realized that she’d skipped breakfast and lunch until the rich, savory aroma of the food permeated the office.

  “Figured that I’m keeping you from dinner. Sorry.”

  “Guess we should get underway, then. What time is your flight?”

  “I have a plane at my disposal. Whenever we’re done, I’ll take off for Boston. I’m hoping that we can map out a basic outline.”

  Charisse nodded. “Anyone ever called you a micromanager?”

  “Not to my face. Are you going to?”

  “I’ll wait until you leave.” She headed toward her office to get her files.

  When she reemerged, she heard him in the kitchenette. The delicious smell pulled her in to the source.

  “This is very thoughtful.”

  “I do manage sometimes. It’s also my apology for being such a pain yesterday and possibly in the future.”

  “In that case, I may have to give you the menus for all my favorite takeout places.” She surveyed the various boxes lining the table.

  “Too much?”

  “Nope.” Charisse popped a box open and saw the fried rice. Her mouth watered. The next box contained Hunan chicken. The man had a knack for picking her favorites. She spotted the familiar name of the Chinese restaurant a block from the office. He must have pestered Tracy to learn all her favorites.

  With the day she’d had, she’d take whatever peace offering she could have. Her rumbling stomach concurred.

  “Don’t be shy. Or else I’m going first.” Brent held his paper plate in front of him.

  “I do have a sharp weapon,” she joked, holding up a fork.

  They jostled with each other, jockeying for the prime position in front of each box of food.
Soon Charisse had filled her plate with a sample of each dish. Brent followed her path around the table. Conversation remained light and neutral.

  Charisse motioned with her head. “Let’s go into the conference room.”

  She set down her food on the circular table. She took her seat and smiled when Brent took the seat next to her.

  Brent looked up from his plate. “I’m working on getting the guys down here when I return at the end of the week.”

  “Good. I’d like to meet them and get to know them.” She twirled lo mein around her fork. “Are we starting from scratch with them?”

  “For the most part, yes. They have a website that’s pretty crappy—kind of amateurish. One of the guys started a mailing list, but then that fell to the wayside. Now I think they’re on the latest social networks.”

  “At least they’re aware of all the small things that make a difference in today’s scene. Would you pull up a few of the accounts so I can take a look?”

  Brent had already pulled out his laptop. With a few keystrokes, he had their Twitter account on his screen. “Some of the stuff is pretty raw.”

  Charisse pushed away her half-eaten food and scooted closer to Brent. She read the shorthand note and almost choked.

  “Click on his profile name, please.” She read all the latest updates, which were in the same cryptic style. What the young man had managed to write made her shake her head in frustration.

  “Keep going, please. Next one.”

  “I told you they were raw. I tried to explain to them about image and brand. They think that they’re keeping it real.” Brent brought up the next site.

  Charisse grabbed a notepad. Time to write the list of dos and don’ts that needed immediate attention. Over the next hour, she had Brent bring up all their online sites.

  “That was quite…ah…interesting.” She rubbed her tired eyes.

  “An understatement. They also have videos.” Brent got up and stretched. He cleared the table of their forgotten plates.

  Charisse looked at her watch but knew that she had to push through watching the videos to know what else was out there. This was a job that she’d normally give to Tracy. But, Brent had been adamant that only she work on the project, and with his hovering, she would have to review the online videos.