Joy (15 page)

“Okay, Dianna. After I go over these files, I'll be out of here. I'm not even going to answer the phone.”

The shrill of the ringing phone shocked them for a moment, then they laughed.

Dianna answered it at Anya's desk. “Oh, yes, Mr. Greene.”

Anya nodded and took the phone from Dianna. Still standing in the office, Dianna sighed as she watched her boss's face.

“I can answer any questions you have now.” Anya twisted the ring on her finger. “Okay, we'll see you in a little while.” She hung up.

“It doesn't sound good,” Dianna said.

“Mr. Greene said that some of his employees had questions that he hadn't thought about. He wants to come over now.” She slammed her hand against the desk. “Sometimes I think this man makes up excuses for meetings. What am I going to do?”

“Do you want me to try to reach Braxton?”

Anya glanced at the clock again. Braxton was probably already on his way. “No, I'll do it. Buzz David and tell him I need to see him in five minutes.”

When Dianna left, Anya sighed loudly. This would probably end their truce.

She dialed Braxton's cell phone, only to hear his voice mail. She knew it would be worse now.

Just as she put down the phone, there was a knock on her door.

Braxton stepped into the office with a wide grin. “Hey, honey. Ready?”

“Braxton—”

He searched her face. “Oh, don't tell me …”

Her gaze broke from his. “Braxton, the people from Linden just called. They have some questions—I tried to reach you.”

“You can't go.” His words were flat.

“I am so sorry.”

“I rearranged my whole afternoon.” He stepped away from the desk and jammed his hands into his pockets. “Ohh-kay.” It was a long, low groan. “Will it take the rest of the afternoon?”

“No!” she spoke quickly. “They'll be here in less than an hour, and it won't take more than an hour or two, depending on—”

“Why don't we say three hours?” He looked at his watch. “I'll give you a call at four. The stores don't close until seven.”

With a relieved step, Anya went to him and put her arms around his waist. “Thank you for understanding. I'll be finished by four, I promise.”

He kissed her forehead. “We can't have lunch, but maybe I can plan something for dinner.”

“That would be great.” She hugged him.

There was a knock on her open door. “Excuse me.”

Anya broke their embrace. “Braxton, you remember David?”

Braxton held out his hand. “Nice to see you again. Congratulations on the Linden account. My fiancée tells me she got it because of you.”

“Anya is generous, but thank you. Speaking of Linden, Dianna said that we're having a special meeting?” David asked Anya.

Braxton held up his hands. “Let me get out of here. Honey, I'll call around four.”

She squeezed his hand. “Thank you,” she said softly.

She smiled as she watched him leave. This was a sign—her prayers were being answered.

David's cough interrupted her short reverie.

“Okay, let's get to work,” she said with renewed energy. “I have to get out of here by four!”

Braxton slapped his hand against the wall, missing the elevator button. It had taken every bit of control to hold back. With Anya, there was always something that took precedence over him. When was their relationship going to become a priority?

In the elevator, he flexed his hands, willing himself not to slam his fist against the wall. When the doors opened, he jogged to his car and sat motionless inside.

The entire afternoon had been planned. First, a romantic lunch, then to the diamond district. And tonight, he would have finally broken the news. Carlos told him that Anya had to be brought in if he was to have any chance of getting his son by the first of the year.

Braxton knew that Carlos didn't approve. But he was doing what he had to do.

“This is going to be a tough one, Braxton,” Carlos had said to him this morning.

They were sitting in the lavish offices of Beekman, Joseph, and Stone. Carlos was a partner in the prestigious firm he'd joined over ten years ago.

“Judges always favor the mother, and Roxanne is a good mother.”

“I don't care.” Braxton had shaken his head stubbornly. “Just tell me what I have to do to get my son.”

Carlos had sighed and leaned across the large mahogany desk. They'd been friends since childhood. As Braxton had been moved from one foster home to another, Carlos and his family provided Braxton with the only stability he'd known.

Now, as Carlos held his best friend's stare, he knew there was little he could do to change Braxton's mind. “Well,” Carlos began, “you're right about needing things stacked in your favor. And Anya being at home full-time
may
help, but, Braxton, I can't see Anya giving up her business.”

“She doesn't need the business. I have more than enough money.”

“It's not about money with Anya. I think—”

“I don't care what you think!” Braxton snapped.

With a surprised look, Carlos moved back in his chair and held up his hands.

“I'm sorry,” Braxton said, “but I want my son with me, Carlos. Junior is on the verge of being a man, and he needs his father.” Braxton began pacing the floor. “Do you know what's wrong with this picture? The news is full of stories about Black men who don't want to take care of their babies. I'm dying to take care of my son and you're telling me that it's going to be just about impossible for me to win.”

“Braxton, you are taking care of your son.”

“I want to be more than the monthly check.”

Carlos nodded. He couldn't find fault with that. “Okay, man. I'll do what I can. I've alerted Benjamin Stein. He handled the McLeod case, remember that one?”

Braxton had nodded solemnly.

“Against all odds, he got the father custody there, so if you have any chance, it'll be with Benjamin.”

Braxton sat silently as Carlos buzzed his secretary. Benjamin was in his office. Braxton followed Carlos down the dark-oak hallway, lined with pictures of all the partners.

In a meeting that took almost an hour, Benjamin had expressed the same concerns as Carlos. But he agreed to accept the case.

“The only chance we have, Mr. Vance,” Benjamin Stein had said as he accepted the five-thousand-dollar retainer, “is to bring out anything against your ex-wife that will work in our favor.”

Braxton had grimaced, but remained silent. He had no intention of going after Roxanne. He would wait until they began planning, then he would tell the lawyer how to do this. All he needed to do was prove that his home would be better and with Anya as a full-time mother, there would be nothing that he wouldn't be able to provide his son.

Braxton sighed now as he remembered the looks on Carlos's and Benjamin's faces. They didn't have much hope, but he had enough for all of them.

Finally, he turned on the ignition and maneuvered his car from the parking structure. He shook his head in disgust. This was the type of thing that had to end. Well, tonight, he would tell her she had to sell her business and with Junior in her plans, he knew she'd never say no.

It was exactly four, and Anya snapped her briefcase with a flourish. The knock on the door made her smile. She put her purse on her shoulder, ready to impress her fiancé.

When the door opened, Anya's smile disappeared. “David, don't even think about it! I don't want to hear anything.” She put her hands over her ears. “Whatever it is, handle it.”

David laughed. “I wanted to tell you that I scheduled a meeting with Bleu Foods for an annual review.”

“Good idea. Have Dianna put it on my calendar.”

“Already done.”

Her smile returned. “You really do have everything under control.” She sat in the chair in front of her desk.

He grinned with that crooked half-smile and sat next to her. “That's why you hired me.”

“You're doing quite a job. We have a great future.”

“That's what I was thinking,” David said.

To her, it seemed his voice dropped an octave, and Anya felt the warm rush of heat rise to her face. She was grateful when, a second later, the ringing phone broke the silence.

Dianna tapped on her door. “Anya, it's Braxton.”

As she reached for the phone, David asked, “Do you want me to leave?”

“No, this will only take a moment.” She picked up the phone. “Hi, honey. You won't believe this, but I'm ready.”

“And you won't believe this. I have to do a conference call with New York.”

“It must be important.” Anya frowned, looking at her watch. “It's already after seven in New York. Is everything all right?”

“Oh, yeah. Carolyn said they want to talk through some points on the contract. But I don't know how long it will take. I'm sorry, babe.”

“That's okay. No one understands better than I do. Do you want me to come over there and wait for you?”

Braxton was tempted to say yes. Then he would know for sure she was away from that business. But there was no need for that. In just twenty-four hours, Mitchell and Associates would be on its way to being a bad memory. “No, why don't we plan a late dinner for tomorrow after counseling,” he said, thinking that Anya was always in a better mood after meeting with Pastor Ford. “There's something we have to talk about.”

“That works. I'll see you then.”

“I love you.”

Anya glanced over her shoulder at David, who was flicking invisible lint from his jacket. “Me too,” she whispered.

She hung up and leaned back in her chair. “Looks like I'm free.”

“Great! Have dinner with me.”

She looked at him for a long moment, then dropped her eyes. “No, I have some work to do.”

“I'm talking about a
working
dinner. We can go over some of the upcoming account meetings and”—David glanced at his watch—“we'll finish early enough for you to come back to the office and impress me with your workaholic ways.” When Anya twisted her lips in doubt, David continued. “We can accomplish a lot together.”

She smiled and wondered if he was flirting. Probably not. She picked up her purse. “Where do you want to go?”

“Doesn't matter. I'll follow you anywhere.”

There it was again, she thought.

He stood and put his hand out. “After you.” He smiled and his dark eyes bore into her once again. This time, Anya stared back, refusing to break away. When he finally took a step forward, she exhaled and followed, walking past Dianna and into the hallway, never noticing the raised eyebrows that Dianna sent her way.

Chapter 20

T
here was a light knock on her door. “Anya, may I talk to you for a moment?”

She swerved around in her chair. Her lips tightened slightly when she saw Alaister standing stiffly in the doorway, but she maintained her smile. “Come on in.”

She wasn't surprised when he closed the door; from the look on his face, this wasn't going to be quick. A glance at the clock made her sigh. She needed to leave in fifteen minutes if she were going to make it to church on time.

Alaister shifted his feet, keeping his eyes lowered as he approached her desk. His hands were stuffed deep inside his pockets.

Anya leaned back in her chair, never taking her eyes from him. As she had done many times before, she noted his resemblance to Prince William, and wondered again if Alaister was related to the royal family. He acted as if blue blood were furiously pumping through his veins.

Alaister continued his silent stance and Anya motioned for him to have a seat. “What can I help you with, Alaister?”

When he lifted his head, his eyes flashed at her. “I don't agree with you on the Linden case, Anya. It's not fair that I have to split commissions with Melissa. I did all the work, all the strategic planning,” he said forcefully, pointing to his chest. “It was my lead.”

Anya placed her elbows on the arms of her chair and waited a moment before she spoke. “I thought David brought in this business.”

Alaister stood and walked behind the chair he'd been sitting in. “You know what I mean,” he said, his British accent thick with agitation. “I was with David when he made the contact. This is
my
case!”

Keeping emotion from her face, she folded her hands. “First of all, Alaister, we'll talk about this, but only on a professional level. Calm down.” His gaze, once again, dropped to the floor as he sat.

Anya allowed a few long seconds to pass before she continued. “I'm really surprised by your attitude.”

His thick blond eyebrows rose in question and she leaned forward on her desk. “I know how hard you worked, but I also know that you're the first one to consider what's best for the client.”

“I am thinking about Linden and—”

She held up her hand. “What's best for Linden is having a full team to enroll the employees. There are over two hundred fifty people we have to handle.”

“My team can handle it. It might take a day or two longer.”

“There's no need for that.” Anya stood and went to the other side of her desk. She perched herself on the edge. “Alaister, you've always been a team player, so I know you understand my position on this. What's
really
bothering you?”

His shoulders slumped as he leaned forward, and Anya watched silently as Alaister breathed deeply. Finally he said, “I've worked really hard and now Melissa is about to make as much money on this as I am.”

“But Alaister, we've always shared accounts and you've made money from Melissa's leads. So why do you care how much money she'll make?” Anya frowned and crossed her arms in front of her.

He looked up at her, his eyes again flashing. His lips parted, then he paused and turned away.

With the patience that had come from managing sales people for ten years, Anya waited.

Suddenly Alaister stood. “If that's your final decision …” He sounded defeated.

“It is.” She smiled, but her tone was firm.

Without another word, he moved toward the door. Before he opened the door, he turned back. “You're not being fair.”

Before she could respond, he stepped from her office.

Anya covered her face with her hands. It's a good thing I love this business, she thought. She dropped her hands and picked up her purse. She didn't have time to ponder. She had a pastor and fiancé waiting.