Path To Passion

Should he be impressed she’d done her homework? Once again, he had to stop comparing her to most women. She’d always shone above the rest.

For the first time since walking into his office, her smile seemed sincere. “You had the gift even back in college. Thanks to you, the football, baseball and women’s volleyball teams got a whole new look from the money you helped them raise through getting students involved in fund-raisers. And when their looks changed, the next year so did their performance. It was nothing short of brilliant.”

He hadn’t realized she’d been aware of what he’d done.

Tanya continued her speech. “Toshia Covington bragged about your role in reviving her party-planning business. She said if it hadn’t been for you, none of her husband’s money would’ve done her any good in providing CPR for her business. She said she would’ve pumped it in only for it to flow back out.”

The clenching of his stomach didn’t bode well. How did she know his sister’s best friend? And even more disconcerting was how she knew he was the one who’d helped her. “Are you friends with Toshia?”

The hard shake of her head sent her thick wavy hair flying over her shoulders. “I’ve never met her. She gave an interview in Black Women Entrepreneur magazine and sang your praises.” She crinkled her brow. “I’m surprised you didn’t have people knocking down your door to tap into your branding acumen.”

He chuckled as his body relaxed. The fear of stalkers was a real thing in his life, and he never took it for granted when someone had more information on him than they should. “I did. I had to take a trip to Argentina and then Jamaica to get away from the stress. Poor Franklin.”

“Franklin?”

“My assistant. He absorbed the brunt of it.” At her slight frown of disappointment, he rushed on to explain, “I rewarded him with a fully paid vacation to a place of his choosing once everything died down. And besides, I was scheduled to take those trips a couple of weeks later for business—I just happened to push up the dates.” Why was he defending himself? She was supposed to be impressing him, not the other way around. After clearing his throat, he asked, “What can I help you with?”

She gained an inch when she straightened her back. “Since you’re an expert when it comes to reviving products which are sorely in need of rebranding, I was wondering...” Her eyes flicked to the left toward the view of the downtown Cleveland skyline and then roamed over the room until it reached him again with her mouth open.

He hid his amused smile behind his hand. Had she only just noticed this office? Would she comment or continue with her paused presentation? Most people noted the stark difference between his conservative decor and that of the reception area as they stepped into his office. She’d lost a point for not observing it right away. But then again, would he have noticed if he’d been in her position?

Seeming to recover, she continued her spiel. “Would you kindly give me some tips on how I can revamp my nightclub back into one of the happening spots in Cleveland? If it could become a hot spot in Ohio, that would be great. And if we could have people from all over the Great Lakes region coming to party there, that would be fantastic.” She clasped her hands over the notepad and watched him.

He couldn’t help laughing. She may have matured into an alluring woman, but her honesty and forthrightness of speech hadn’t changed. He appreciated it more than she’d ever know. “Before I agree to anything, I have some questions for you.”

How her whole body proceeded to stiffen even more was a mystery. Maybe she needed some time to get accustomed to him. He picked up his water and took a sip before resting his elbows against his desk in as relaxed a manner as he could convey. “How does a computer-science major who barely socialized in college because she was studying so much come to own a nightclub?”

At her loud gulp and widened eyes, he swore she’d jump up and sprint out the room. Her eyes then turned sad enough to clench his heart, and he knew that the next words out of her mouth would shake up his world.

Chapter 3

Even if Tanya had analyzed every picture she could’ve found of Miguel on the internet, she still wouldn’t have been ready to meet him again live and in person. His persona claimed the space, swallowing her into his charm. She felt overwhelmed and drawn in at the same time. Only it wasn’t where she wanted to be.

When she’d been sitting comfortably behind her desk at her nine-to-five computer-programming job, she’d found absolutely no joy in her work, but at least it had paid her on a weekly basis. She’d never appreciated money coming in at a steady rate as she did when it was no longer happening. When had things gone so horribly wrong in her life?

The moment Miguel had rejected her during her senior year of college. That’s when she could pinpoint it to. The irony of coming full circle wasn’t lost on her. Once again, he could turn her away, only this time she’d go without breaking apart.

Since he wanted an explanation before providing his much-needed assistance, she’d give him the truth. After living with the illusion of having a perfect marriage with her ex-husband, she was done with hiding. Besides, she doubted such a busy man would make the time to help her when he had a whole marketing department to run. How was he even able to party as much as the media claimed?

Her heart thumped hard as she assessed him. Miguel hadn’t changed and yet he had. She thought he’d been hot in college. She’d been wrong. His body had filled out and his face had matured to the point of being devastating. The full head of curly hair she’d rubbed her hands through once, eliciting a moan of satisfaction from him, still beckoned her. Why had she listened to her brother? It had been a ridiculous idea to meet with him.

She picked up the notebook and jammed it into her bag, unable to be in the same room anymore without the memories flooding back and once again trampling her heart. To stop thinking about him, she took in the space of his office again. A dark expensive-looking desk, classic leather chairs and couches, all set off with a light peach–colored wall. The area was the total opposite of the waiting area and she wondered at the difference. Which one represented him?

Did it matter? She squirmed in her seat as unease refused to release its hold. She’d made a mistake coming to him and now she had to go. She’d exonerate her debt to the bank by selling her four-bedroom Victorian house that she’d paid off before the divorce.

Making it on her own sounded better than being slapped with the past every time she looked at him. Miguel should’ve been the man she’d ended up with; instead, she’d fallen into the arms of Broderick. Her ex-husband had set up the perfect marriage by making her lack for nothing. Not support, pampering, nor what she’d thought had been love. It had hurt to realize he’d used her. Her heart throbbed at what her life could’ve been if Miguel had claimed her in college.

Standing, she clutched her bag to her chest, hoping to suffocate the pain. “I’m sorry I’ve wasted your time, but thank you for agreeing to meet with me.” She pivoted and walked toward the door. Before she could reach it, Miguel had sprinted across the room to block her path.

“What’s wrong?” A shiver rolled down her spine. His voice had always been able to dig deep into her, eliciting a reaction.

She stared at his chest so he wouldn’t be able to decipher her lie. “Nothing. I just figured out a way to get the club back into the black.”

He hooked one of his elegant fingers under her chin and lifted her head until she looked into his eyes. His touch held her spellbound as her heart pounded with longing. Remembering who she was dealing with, she stepped out of his grasp and held on to the back of the chair she’d vacated so her weak knees wouldn’t buckle and land her in a heap at his feet.

“Have a seat,” he ordered.

She bristled. Who did he think he was? “No. I’m leaving.”

“I don’t think so.” Miguel strode to his desk and made the leather chair squeak under his weight. “Are you aware of how much Josh told me about your situation?”

Her legs decided they didn’t want to support her anymore, so she rounded the chair and collapsed. Her brother wouldn’t have divulged everything.

The neatly trimmed goatee made a bristling sound as he rubbed it. “Josh mentioned you were at risk of losing the club you and Broderick had purchased together.” His eyes narrowed the slightest bit. “You helped him and his partner, Jordan, to purchase the club by allowing him to use your house as collateral.”

Was he judging her for wholeheartedly supporting her ex-husband’s dream?

His light gaze held hers. “Under Broderick’s management, The Palace thrived. I even went there a couple of times.”

Her jaw dropped open.

“Why are you so surprised? We were on the same football team in college.”

Her ex had kept a lot of things from her, but what did it matter if Miguel had come to the club? Maybe Broderick had remembered how she’d cried on his shoulder after Miguel had blatantly rejected her and didn’t want to dredge up the horrific memories. It wouldn’t have mattered because the memory was always a heartbeat away, tormenting her, even after all this time. She couldn’t figure out why she’d never been able to get Miguel out of her mind and had stopped fighting it. Ten years was too damn long to hold on to someone.

Miguel opened a folder to reveal a graph with colorful squiggly lines. He pointed to a low dip and tapped on it. “He’d kept the club in the black within four months of opening it and then six months ago things went south. What happened?”

Her gaze flittered to the hidden refrigerator as her mouth dried. Why hadn’t she said yes to the water he’d offered earlier instead of letting her pride direct her answer? She didn’t want anything from him, so if she could deny whatever he offered, other than his help to get her out of this muddle, then she’d decline.

May as well come clean about her shoddy ownership skills. Air filled her lungs with her deep inhale before she released it. “We got divorced and the club and house went to me.”

His brows crinkled together and his voice lost a bit of its bass when he asked, “Why?”

Was the question regarding the divorce or the settlement? Did she need this embarrassment? Walking out would be easier. If she ran fast enough, he wouldn’t be able to catch her, but she liked her home and wanted to continue living in it for the foreseeable future. “Because the house belonged to me. I had purchased it in my name long before we got married three years ago. When he wanted to start up the club, I believed in him and used the house as collateral.”

He flipped his large hands over. She remembered the heat they’d elicited in her as he’d caressed her skin that night back in college. She shoved the thought away. “I don’t understand. Couldn’t he have paid you off? Or at the very least, you could’ve sold the club and split the profits.”

Clasping her hands together until a knuckle cracked did nothing to remove the nervous flutter from her belly. What would he think of her? That she was a loser. A little white lie wouldn’t hurt. “He insisted I keep it.” Of course he’d said it in a sarcastic, challenging tone, but her prideful self had taken him up on it. It hadn’t helped that she’d wanted him to suffer for ruining her life the way he had. How hard could it be to run a business? Not difficult with a background in finance and marketing, and six years working as the manager of a thriving club in Boston. Broderick had that experience; unfortunately, she didn’t. Where he’d made their place fly, it was flopping under her incompetent control.

Miguel shook his head and narrowed his hazel eyes. “So you’re saying that even though he’d poured his heart and soul into the club, he was willing to give it to you straight out?”

She twirled the strap of her bag as she struggled to maintain eye contact. His steady gaze had been her undoing every time she’d tried to lie to him. It turned out his eyes still had the same power of drawing out the truth when it came to her, but if she could hold on for a few more seconds, then maybe he’d be willing to let it all go. Seconds passed before the words spewed out. “I fought him for the club. With the help of my parents and my brother, I paid off his business partner so I could own it outright when the judge awarded me with it.”

Before he could ask any more questions, she held up a hand. “It turns out that a woman can get almost anything she wants when her husband is unfaithful—” she paused for the dramatic effect the moment deserved “—with the man he divorces her for once he’s able to marry him.”

Her admission seemed to have knocked Miguel for a loop as he slammed his back into the seat and stared at her. Speechless.

At least she hadn’t been the only one fooled by her ex. He’d been a master at hiding his homosexuality. “Now he’s out of the closet and ecstatic. By the way, his business partner, now husband, is who I had to buy out and when I slid the check over to them, Broderick wished me the best of luck with a condescending ‘You’re going to fail big-time’ snarl. He didn’t think I could run the place. He’d told me so on numerous occasions throughout the divorce proceedings.” She crossed her arms over her chest. His attitude had irked her to the point of spite. Just because she hadn’t been able to keep him satisfied as a wife didn’t mean she’d fail at the venture, even though her heart wasn’t really in it. Pride was named one of the deadly sins for a reason. “I couldn’t have him take away my chance at a family along with bursting my ego, so I decided to prove him wrong.”

The room pulsed with the unstated words of her failure. To her revulsion, tears stung the backs of her eyes, and she tried to swallow the lump of disappointment, which had come from nowhere and refused to leave. She had to get out of there before she embarrassed herself even further. This time she didn’t speak as she jumped out the chair and ran toward the door. She knew for certain now that coming to the man who’d driven her into Broderick’s arms in the first place had been a colossal mistake.

Firm hands held her by the shoulders and turned her around before she could grip the handle of the door. When he pulled her in close, she pressed her hands against his chest and tried to push away. She really did, but ended up gripping the lapels of his suit jacket so she could rest her head against his broad chest.

For the first time since the night he’d destroyed her, she released the pain she’d been holding in. The sobs shook her body as he rubbed her back. She cried so hard that his words were lost on her, but the calming vibrations passing into her chest soothed. When the dam finally closed, she sniffled as the hiccups made their unfortunate appearance.

He released her and looked down into what must look like a monstrous mess of a face. Wiping the tears from her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, her heart stilled when for the briefest of moments, he angled his head as if he was coming in for a kiss. Her captured breath burned within her lungs in anticipation, ready to relive his soft lips pressed to hers. Her nipples tightened at the prospect. Without warning, he stepped away.

Leading her to the couch, he sat her down and handed her a box of tissues. The unladylike sound that came when she blew her nose didn’t make her feel any more comfortable. He went to the refrigerator, took out a bottle of water and twisted off the cap before handing it to her.

Tanya gulped the liquid to reduce the flame of mortification heating her head while she avoided his gaze. Had she actually thought he’d kiss her? She may have lost weight and looked okay, but he could have any woman in the world. Why would he want her? She’d never forget how he’d treated her.

“You must have really loved him,” he said.

The water she’d just sipped slid down the wrong way, eliciting a sporadic cough. He actually thought the tears were for Broderick and the end of their marriage. If she wasn’t fighting for her life, she’d have laughed. She’d thought she’d loved him and that their marriage had been good. No television show could’ve presented a more perfect one. Over time, she’d realized her love had merely been on a friendship level. Their marriage had been doomed from the start. Only he’d known the reason, though. Yet she’d also been at fault. Why had she ever attempted to give her heart to one man when it belonged to another?

His heavy hand banged on her back. “Are you all right?”

She nodded while pushing his arm away. “Yes,” she croaked out, and held up a finger so he wouldn’t call 911. “Just...need a minute.”

The concerned man holding out his arms as if ready to catch her if she should faint was not what she’d expected after following the lifestyle he’d lived over the years. He’d recently calmed his partying, being seen on the celebrity circuit less frequently and dating women for longer than a week at a time, but even those few monthlong relationships never lasted and she wondered why.

The only thing the women he dated had in common was that they were gorgeous and all seemed to possess the same social rank. If the media were correct, he didn’t look at race, culture or size when choosing his females. He’d dated Amelia Wilson and Sara Bloom, both of whom weren’t just overweight, but obese. Her heart broke with each woman he’d been photographed with. Why couldn’t he have fallen for her?

Not paying attention to his romances would’ve led to a happier life, but she couldn’t fully release him from her world. And now here they were. Together.

She noticed the wet area on the lapel of his jacket and gasped. “Oh, my goodness. I’ve ruined your suit.” She pulled out a wad of tissues from the box he’d given her and attempted to dab the area. As if that would help her save a garment that could probably pay off a month’s rent on the club. It didn’t ease her guilt to see that she’d gotten lipstick on the tie. She’d heard he favored Hermès.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, gripping her wrist. “Besides, it’s nothing my dry cleaner can’t get out.”

Every pulse point in her body bounded at his touch. With reluctance, she slipped out of his grasp. “Okay. I’ll pay for the dry cleaning.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

She waved her hands at his chest, remembering how solid and supportive he’d felt holding her. “But it’s my fault.”

Shaking his head, he grabbed her floundering hands and held them between his. “Really, Tanya. It’s no big deal.”

Ignoring the heat thrumming into her from his touch would require too much effort from her drained body, so she pulled her hands away and picked up the bottle of water from the table.

Once again, a softness returned to his eyes. What was he thinking?

“I’ll help you get the club up and running.”

Had she heard correctly? “I... I only wanted your advice. You don’t have to help me any more than that.”

“You know Josh even better than I do. The only time he asks for help is when the situation is desperate. I can’t let him down.”

He and Josh had been close since the moment they’d met. It had taken effort to tamp down the jealousy she’d had of sharing her sibling with Miguel. “Thank you. But I’ll pay you for your consultation.”

He cocked both his head and brow.

“I don’t have the money now, but with your Midas-branding touch, I’ll be rolling in dough soon enough.”

She had missed his contagious laughter over the years. “I still won’t take your money. This is a favor to a friend. And his sister.”

Tanya bowed her head to hide the sting. So they weren’t even friends. Sure they’d spent ten years not speaking, but it sounded harsh for him not to acknowledge what they’d once been. She’d always wanted more from him, but hadn’t been able to get it, so she’d ended up with nothing. Now they’d be working together. Would she be able to keep her heart locked up and safe? Did she have a choice? She looked up to have his glorious eyes fill her vision, and for a moment, her hands itched to hold his face still so she could feel his luscious lips against hers just one more time. Maybe the need for his touch would go away if she indulged her whim.

He nodded. “No argument for once? Good.”

“I will pay you back,” she vowed.

His grin brought out those delectable dimples. “Obstinate as always, I see.”

Out of all the things that had changed, her stubbornness had probably gotten worse. “You don’t know the half of it.”

Chapter 4

Miguel got out of the most unobtrusive car he owned, a black Mercedes sedan, after parking half a block away from Tanya’s nightclub. Her tears had shattered his heart yesterday. Making things better for her had been his only goal. If he could make her club a success, then he’d do it. No matter what.

Not only had she turned out to be even more beautiful than she’d been in college, she also had the inner strength to do anything she put her mind to. Something they had in common.

Holding her had felt right. Sure, she’d been bawling, but having her body melt against his brought back the memory of the incredible kiss they’d shared in college. The one kiss he’d compared all first kisses to. They’d all fallen short. Referring her to one of his outstanding marketing officers would’ve been the most logical action to take to rebrand The Palace, with the added benefit of keeping him away from her. Away from being enticed by her beauty and the temptation of leaning in to smell her light honeysuckle perfume every chance he could get.

While they’d been in his office, he’d fought his attraction to her and won. Who was he kidding? If it wasn’t for the fact that she was related to Josh, he would’ve had her in his bed last night. Or at least tried to get her there. Normally running on instinct, he’d had difficulty reading her. One minute, she’d stared at him with the same desire in her gaze he remembered and his stomach would flip. The next moment, she’d seem to remember how much he’d disappointed her by choosing her brother’s friendship over her professed love, and she’d become cold.

Both aspects of her intrigued him. That’s why he should turn away from the cool metal door handle beneath his palm, hustle to the car and leave skid marks on the road as he raced away. A good sense of self-preservation would’ve had him doing just that. He opened the door.

The full house of patrons enjoying a meal in the downstairs restaurant piqued his interest. The club might be doing abysmally, but the restaurant conducted a brisk business. The tables were filled with people who may have felt too old to party the night away but who still wanted to have a good time in a trendy atmosphere.

The hostess didn’t recognize Miguel in his disguise of a hat, full beard and stooped stature. He’d learned to be a chameleon over the past few months in order to be incognito in his personal life. His father’s ultimatum still didn’t sit right with him, but if he wanted the job of Executive Public Relations Officer, he had to stay out of the media as the poster boy of partying for at least another month and a half. His parents wanted to see that he could represent the Astacio companies in a responsible manner, so that’s what he’d give them.

Did he need the position? With the trust fund being handed over to him when he hit thirty within the next six weeks, he’d never have to work again. Yet he couldn’t imagine not working for a living. His parents had set an example and he meant to follow it. He didn’t appreciate having to give up his partying lifestyle, or at least partying as Miguel Astacio. He’d developed aliases to keep the groove going without the media getting a whiff of him. He kept their interest by showing up at red-carpet and charity events because it wouldn’t do to lose them from his tail.

He sat at a table, switched on his tablet and scribbled his observations. The restaurant might improve its patronage by serving microbrew. The waitress fairly skipped over to him. Someone loved her job. “Welcome to The Palace Restaurant. Can I get you a drink while you decide on your order?”