Enchanted Heart (15 page)

He jumped down while people scrambled for pencils to put their names in the drawing.

A child about six or seven tugged at T.J.'s sleeve.

“Hey there, little man. What's up?”

“What's household?”

T.J. squatted down. “You and all the people who live in your house or apartment.”

The kid frowned. “That's a lot. My cousins staying with us.”

“Well, your mom and any brothers and sisters you have make one household. Your cousins and their parents make another household.”

The kid nodded. “We really need that computer.”

“Why is that?” Lance asked as he walked up.

“It's for my big sister. She wants to be a doctor. We don't have a computer at home so she always has to go to Pearl Bailey Library. That's where she is now. I told her I'd stand in line to get the computer for her.”

Lance considered for a moment what the boy had said. “And what about you? What do you want to be when you grow up?”

“I'm going to be an astronaut,” the child said, clearly, distinctly, without hesitation.

“That's pretty impressive,” Lance said. And he was impressed. At his age, he'd only been concerned about the next bike or skateboard he was going to get.

Some of the fun of his impulsive decision with the sulky teenagers diminished. From all accounts—T.J.'s horrified reaction chief among them—Lance had thrown away good money on five teens he knew nothing about. And here, standing in front of him, was real need, and more importantly, true potential.

“What made you decide on being an astronaut?” Lance asked.

“I'm very good at math and science,” the boy said. “And I want to help finish the experiments for all those people who blew up in space. A speaker at school told us about them.”

Lance realized the boy had been influenced by NASA astronauts. He rubbed his chin. “Well, did you get your form filled out?”

“Yes, sir.”

The boy handed the registration paper up to Lance who read the information, folded the sheet and tucked it in the pocket of his slacks. “Well, it's good meeting you today. I'm Lance.”

“My name's Thomas and my sister is Shakira.”

Formally, he shook hands with the boy.

“I hope we win,” Thomas said. “It'll mean a lot. Nice meeting you.”

Lance watched the boy fade back into the crowd.

“No, Lance,” T.J. said.

“What?”

“Give me the paper.”

“What paper?”

“The one you stuck in your pocket so you can go play Santa Claus again.”

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

T.J. sighed. “What are you gonna do, send him to space camp?”

Lance ignored that. “I like Santa.”

“You can't do it this way.”

“Why not?”

Someone else approached T.J. with a question about the block party. He held a finger up to Lance, indicating he wanted him to hand over the boy's name and address. But with a grin, Lance merged into the crowd.

No, Lance thought as he mingled with the people who'd come to the rec center today on just the chance and a rumor that there might be something there to better their circumstances. His grandmother, great-uncle and a few other relatives sat on boards only after carefully assessing the personal return. Community service was something for convicts.

No one would ever accuse the Hearts of being civic or community-minded. With the help of Cole's secretary, Lance had managed to trick Cole into participating in a community-service project about two years ago. Cole had been furious—until he'd seen Sonja there.

That, among many other things about his family, had always bothered Lance. Maybe he could thank his parents and the non-Heart genes in him for the stab of conscience that prodded him to do a little good every now and then. No one else in the family ever seemed to suffer the malady. Cole being the exception, but he'd changed only after meeting Sonja. His entire Bahia project was a case in point. While Cole stood to make an awful lot of money on return of investments in the start-ups he'd fund, the core of that project was helping communities use their available resources.

In the case of the kids who came to T.J.'s rec center, ambition and dreams were natural resources.

Lance's gaze roamed over the gym. The resources in this room weren't basketballs or tennis rackets. This community's assets were its people—kids like Thomas and Shakira who despite the odds had big dreams and goals.

What were his own dreams and goals? He'd always wanted to have his own company, but he'd never put forth the effort to lay out a business plan or do anything beyond think how great he'd look on the cover of a business magazine. He knew which Armani he'd wear for the photo shoot. But before there could be a photo shoot and long before he'd be on the cover of a magazine, he had to have a plan.

“Lance?”

“Yeah.”

“You all right, man?” T.J. asked.

“Yeah, just thinking about some things.”

“Your crew is here for you.”

Lance nodded. Then, still thinking about what he wanted, and filtering that through the accusations of his grandmother, he headed toward the tiny conference room where he'd meet for an hour with his crew of pre-delinquents.

12

“S
o if he isn't a drug dealer or Mafioso,” Cole asked casually, “how does a man with no visible means of support spend his days?”

The attempt at levity didn't sit well with Lance. He scowled at Cole. “I'm a trust-fund baby. You keep forgetting that.”

“No,
you
haven't. That's why my mother is all over you.”

“Can she really do this?”

Cole shrugged. The two men had met by accident at a luxury car wash. They stood outside enjoying the bright day in late spring while their vehicles, Cole's Town Car and Lance's Jag, were being buffed and polished.

“You know, there was a time when I'd unequivocally say no. But after the way she screwed me over”—he shrugged again—“your guess is as good as mine.”

“My money is secure though? The part you've been investing ?”

“Like Fort Knox.”

“How much is wrapped up in your Brazil project?”

“Not that much. I figured if you'd wanted in deep, you'd have said something.”

Lance nodded. “I trust your judgment.”

Cole slapped him on the shoulder. “Good. You should.”

The midnight-blue Lincoln came out of the hand wash. Four guys wiped it down. When they finished, they waved toward Cole. Lance's car was next up.

“I have to go,” Cole said. “I have several appointments this afternoon.”

Lance nodded. The two tapped fists. “Later.”

 

 

Not too many blocks away at a new restaurant named Indigo Dreams, Sonja and Jack Spencer waited for Cole. The three were to have lunch together. The restaurant choice had been Sonja's. She wanted to try the new place.

“Cole is never late,” she said. “As a matter of fact, he's extremely punctual. Something must have come up.”

He leaned back in his chair regarding her. “I make you nervous, don't I?”

“Excuse me?”

Jack Spencer leaned back even farther, ignoring the creak of protest from the wood. “It's the attraction, you know.”

“Mr. Spencer.”

“Call me Jack. And don't worry. I'm not going to act on it. And neither, I suppose, are you. You don't strike me as the straying kind. Once committed, and all that.”

Sonja reached for a crunchy breadstick. “Is that your way of saying you don't mind breaking commandments?”

His laugh was rich and deep, melodic. Sonja was appalled to discover it slid through her and over her like a warm wave in a heated pool.

She reached for her water goblet and took a healthy, cooling sip. “I think we should order. I'm sure Cole will be along soon.”

“I never saw myself as the marrying kind. I'm a rambler at heart. There are too many places to see, too many undiscovered lands to visit to settle down with one person.”

“And you're telling me this because?”

Jack smiled. Sonja shifted in her seat. She caught the waiter's eye and nodded.

“Our third party hasn't arrived, but we'll order now.”

“Very good, madam.” The waiter rattled off the specials. After they ordered their meals, Jack answered her question.

“It's been a long time since I was in the company of an accomplished woman of the civilized world. Add beauty to that, and, well, I just about think I've died and gone to heaven.”

“This is a highly inappropriate conversation. I'm sure Cole will be here any minute.”

He just smiled. “I can tell you this, Sonja Pride. If you were my woman, I'd never stand you up for a date.”

 

 

Cole didn't remember the lunch date he'd made with Sonja until his pager went off, the pager he'd left in the car. Several messages awaited him.

Sonja's cell rang twice. “This is Sonja Pride.”

Cole scowled. “You know, your name really is Heart.”

“Where the hell were you?”

“I'm sorry. I forgot all about lunch. Did Jack show up?”

“What do you care?” she snapped at him. “You've dumped him on me the entire time he's been in town. If this is supposed to be an example of how you treat your best buddy, I can see why you don't have any freaking friends.”

Cole stared at his phone. Was that Sonja? “What's gotten into you?”

“Don't you ‘what's gotten into you' me, Coleman Heart. I'm tired of being . . .” She paused.

“Hello? Are you still there?” Cole stepped away, trying to get a better signal on the cell. “Sonja?”

The line hadn't gone dead and there wasn't anything wrong with Cole's phone. Sonja found herself struck mute by the image of Jack Spencer emerging from the powder room at her house. His chest was bare, a towel draped around his neck. His jeans rode low on his hips and the top button was undone. The only thing the picture lacked was him being barefoot.

Jack stared at Sonja, the invitation clear.

“Sonja? Sonja, are you still there?”

She pressed the reset button, hanging up on her husband.

 

 

After leaving his juvies, Lance called Guilty Pleasures and asked to speak with Vivienne.

“You were serious,” she said when she got on the line. Her voice was honey and cinnamon. It smoothed over Lance, evening out the rough edges on his day so far. For whatever reason, she'd apparently forgiven him for that debacle at the oceanfront. He'd been cocky and arrogant with her, two traits he'd apparently inherited from his family.

“Of course, I was serious. What did you think?”

“We didn't exactly get off to a great business start.”

“No,” he agreed. “And I hope you won't hold that against me.”

“Not at all. Virginia Heart was very gracious when she stopped by.”

The wind left Lance's lungs. “Virginia Heart? My grandmother ?”

“I didn't ask the relation,” Viv said. “I suppose she was old enough to be your grandmother. Very elegant. Patrician almost. Drives a cream-colored Bentley.”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

Lance thought quickly. What was she up to now? How had she found out about his plan? He hadn't mentioned it to anyone. Not even Cole. Lance always suspected that his grandmother was part witch. Cole would have used another rhyming word, but Lance was more gracious.

“I'd like to finalize the plans for the project,” he said. “Let's get this show on the road.”

Over brushcetta at one of the Colley Avenue restaurants, Viv asked again. “You're serious, Lance?”

“Once my mind is made up, I like to get things rolling.”

She grinned. “Let's do it.” She stuck her hand out, and they shook on the deal.

Lance ordered champagne and ignored the waiter who lifted an eyebrow. When it arrived, Lance lifted his glass. “To good fortune, high sales volume and better-than-expected return on my investment.”

“You won't regret this, Lance.”

He smiled. “I know.”

They touched glasses and drank to Guilty Pleasures.

“I'll have my attorney put the paperwork together. You should have it by the end of next week.”

“Lance, this is . . . this is just phenomenal,” Viv said. She was wearing a white halter dress,
à la
Marilyn Monroe, and stiletto heels with barely-there straps. “I want you to know that even though we started off . . .” She glanced away, unaccountably embarrassed.

He took her hand. “Vivienne, we're both grown-ups here. You're a beautiful woman. An enchanting woman. And, believe me, nothing would please me more than if we had something going between us.”

“Mixing business and pleasure . . .”

“Can be dangerous. But, as I said, we're both adults. And adults should know how to behave themselves. We have a business agreement on the table. No matter what develops . . .”

She opened her mouth to refute that part. He placed a finger at her lips.

“No matter what develops or doesn't develop between us, this business arrangement has nothing to do with us.”

“There is no us, Lance.”

He nodded, removed his finger and picked up his champagne flute. “To maturity.”

Her brown eyes sparkled. And Lance realized he
was
well and truly enchanted with the woman. He'd had a lot to consider in the weeks since he'd first walked into Guilty Pleasures. Vivienne might say she didn't want a relationship with him. But too well he remembered the fire between them. The passion that he, who should know, had never had with another woman. That was real—too good to give up.

So he made a toast to maturity, and the new level of seduction he'd launch to win Viv over.

 

 

“Vicki! Vicki, where are you?”

Vivienne burst into the house.

Vicki quickly typed
Something's come up. gotta go
on the keyboard. The instant message to Clay popped onto the monitor.

She shut down her computer and made her way to the kitchen where Viv was kicking out of her shoes.

“What's wrong?”

Vivienne ran to Vicki and grabbed her. “We got it! We got the funding for the expansion project.” Viv, jumping up and down, nearly toppled them both over.

“Whoops, sorry,” Viv said as she steadied her sister. “Come on, I'll tell you all about it.” She grabbed two wineglasses and a bottle of wine she'd picked up in the Alsace region of France while on a shoot there. She had been saving it for a special occasion.

Vicki settled in her favorite chair. Viv opened the wine and poured for them both. “To sweet success.”

“I'll drink to that.” Vicki did, then she patted the armrest. “So, tell me every little detail.”

Viv got her sister up to speed on all that had transpired, leaving out no details. When she finished, Vicki looked thoughtful.

“Isn't there supposed to be some sort of presentation? I thought that was pretty standard operating procedure.”

Viv topped off her glass. “I wondered about that, too. Particularly when Virginia Heart came in. God, I swear, Vick. It was like she'd come in to do a white-glove inspection.”

“Apparently you passed the test.”

Viv grinned. “Apparently. Though the funding is coming directly from Lance. And,” she said, “Lance and I have come to terms regarding our
not
having a relationship.”

“Hmm.”

Viv turned, facing Vicki. “What's that ‘hmm' mean?”

“It means, I've never seen you quite so animated.”

“What are you talking about? I'm always animated.”

“True. But this is different. When you talk about Lance there's something else there.”

Viv nodded. “You're right. A big fat check.” Her smile told that story. “And something else, too. Gratitude. He's saved me from abject boredom.”

“Boredom, huh? I don't think you're going to have to worry about that.”

 

 

“I think you should go.”

Even as she said the words, Sonja wondered if she really meant them.

Jack glanced down at his bare chest. “Without my shirt?”

Sonja rubbed her eyes. “I'll go check on the dryer.”

A waiter had tripped over a handbag. The result, duck à la orange and asparagus with hollandaise sauce wound up all over Jack and another unfortunate diner.

Sonja took the sign as Divine intervention.

The horrified restaurant manager had been beside herself. When everything was cleaned up as best it could be and ruffled feathers soothed, the patron whose purse caused the accident picked up the tab for the victims, and the restaurant offered Sonja and Jack vouchers for make-good meals at another time.

With the house so close, she'd offered to run his shirt through the wash. Why she'd even opened her mouth remained a mystery.

All that was well and good, but right now, Sonja's problem was that a man she found attractive was standing in her hallway half dressed.

“I'm not going to jump your bones.”

“Well, that's a good thing. Seeing as how I'm your best friend's wife.”

Jack just smiled.

Sonja got the impression—one she was sure he'd intended her to get—that her status as Cole's wife was something that Jack didn't put much stock in. Had he and Cole talked? She couldn't imagine Cole opening up to anyone, particularly when it came to his own marriage being on shaky ground. Then again, Sonja hadn't even known this Jack person existed until recently. What did she know about his views on fidelity?