Lies Lovers Tell (15 page)

“Same ‘s,’ different day. You want to hear the latest?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Zeke wants me to stop working as Sam’s housekeeper.”

“Uh, isn’t that good news?”

“And start working as his research assistant!”

“What the ‘f’?”

Maya gave Trish the one-minute version of her meeting with Zeke.

“Well, that’s not so bad, My. I’m surprised you don’t see the benefits. You’re not usually one to shy away from a challenge, and I definitely think you can handle one fat ‘a’ Brit. It was one thing when you were a maid, but now he’s going to see you as someone valuable, someone who’s working for the top real estate man in Cali. I say you change the way you’re looking at this whole thing…turn it around to work in your favor.”

“That’s why you’re my best friend, Trish, because during those rare times I act like I have none, you share your common sense.”

Maya exited the freeway onto Manchester Boulevard but instead of going home, decided to go by the mall. She planned to look her absolute best the next time she saw Sam Walters. If she was going to do this, she was going to do it to the best of her ability. A smile broke across her face as she imagined meeting Sam for the first time as Maya Jamison. Trish was right. This was the opportunity of a lifetime, an even better, more productive way to take the leap from assistant to top Realtor. And Maya intended to take full advantage of it, and of Sam Walters. After the “h” he’d put her through as his housekeeper, she was going to work on a creative way to return the favor.

Maya stepped out of her BMW with confidence. It had been two days since her conversation with Zeke about Sam Walters, enough time for her to develop a game plan and have a few confidence-building conversations with Trish. That was after the very first conversation she’d had regarding this new employment, a call to the house-cleaning agency with her resignation. That was one of the most satisfying calls she’d ever made.

She’d also talked to Mr. Walters over the phone. But now he was Sam, as he had insisted at the beginning of the conference call between her, him, and Zeke. Sam was quite appreciative of Zeke’s generosity in offering one of his top employees to help S.W.I. Maya felt better after the phone conference, during which Sam was pleasant and gracious. Maya imagined he limited his “total a-hole” persona to lowly housekeepers, and maybe stray dogs if any dared cross his portly path.

Maya held on to thoughts of the person with whom she’d quipped over the phone, the “sane” Sam Walters. She was determined to lose the hostile feelings she’d developed toward him while working with Cecilia, and intended to put her absolute best foot forward during their first meeting. To this end, and her game plan, she had added some new, sexier suits and a couple of party dresses, courtesy of her hefty commission on the Santa Monica deal, to her wardrobe. She meant to wow not only anyone they met with, but Sam Walters as well. Knowing that men’s lower heads often overruled their higher ones, she decided to take Trish’s advice and appeal to Sam’s sexual, manly side. Get him hot for her; then she’d be in control, and at the same time remain the epitome of professionalism. If Trish was right, he wouldn’t be able to resist a combination that appealed to both his intellect and what Maya guessed was probably his pencil-sized manhood. Someone as snooty as Sam Walters couldn’t possibly carry a big stick.

Maya rang the doorbell and waited for Cecilia to answer. As she did, she remembered a day not long ago when she’d rung this doorbell, under very different circumstances. She shook her head as she thought about what a crazy ride she’d been on for the past month and a half.

“Ms. Jamison?”

Maya turned around at the sound of Cecilia’s voice.

“Yes.” She resisted the natural inclination to hold out her hand. Shaking the help’s hand was not something one in her position would do.

“Come this way.”

Maya walked with authority through the foyer she’d often admired with a dust mop in her hand. She felt she looked exceptional in a formfitting chocolate suit, beige knit blouse with a V neck that offered just enough but not too much cleavage, and spiked heels. Her brown leather Coach briefcase was the perfect accent, and she’d had her hair freshly done over the weekend, along with a brow wax. A mani/pedi had been the last step in what she hoped was the perfect outfit for this latest assignment regarding one certain Brit. There were very few challenges where Maya Jamison didn’t end up victorious. She expected this time to be no different; she had every intention of wowing not the pants off, but the information out of Sam Walters.

Cecilia led Maya toward a side of the house she’d rarely ventured into when she worked there. She didn’t even think Sam used it, and as she thought of it, she realized that aside from Sean, she’d never seen a visitor come to the house. Interesting that he had asked her to meet here. She didn’t have time to think about that now, though; they’d reached what looked to be a study/library. Sam, his gray-streaked Afro looking unkempt with his bushy mustache and beard, obviously not wanting to go against the grain, was seated behind a massive desk.
To go with his massive ego
, Maya thought, but kept a pleasant smile plastered on her face as she walked toward him with outstretched hand.

“It’s nice to formally meet you, though I must say after our conference call, I feel as if I know you already.”

Sam gave a curt nod, barely looking at her as he sat back down behind the desk. “Have a seat, please.”

Maya sat, wondering why Sam the stuffy Brit had shown up, and where was the affable gentleman who’d conversed easily during the conference calls? He looked like the same old Sam she’d grown to know and despise during her time here as Martha: trademark khaki pants, a wrinkled shirt, and a tacky tie that lay askew over his unsightly potbelly. But she had to keep her eye on the prize. She would not be deterred from her vow of remaining pleasantly professional, even sexy, at all times, even if it killed her—which, if Sam was going to act like this during the entire meeting, it just might. Still, she kept the smile on her face as she sat, placed her briefcase on the floor beside her, and waited for him to speak.

It seemed to take forever. For a moment, Sean was speechless, drinking her in as if she were water and he were dying of thirst. He hadn’t expected her to show up looking so fine. Where was that conservative, frigid-looking woman he’d seen in the B&A employee portfolio, the one with the severe bangs and dour expression devoid of makeup? The woman who sat before him was stunning: hair and makeup flawless, lips kissed ever so rightly with a pearl-pink lipstick that matched the knit top that was hugging her breasts the way his hands itched to do. He hoped she didn’t turn around any time soon; he was positive the slim, fitted skirt she wore caressed her booty with the same perfection as he did the last time she rode him into ecstasy. This crazy scheme Zeke concocted once again seemed a bad idea.

Wait a minute. She doesn’t know it’s me. She’s meeting Sam Walters. So why is she showing up looking this sexy? Is she thinking of using her feminine wiles to get to me…I mean, him?
Sean wasn’t aware that he was frowning, or that he had yet to say anything further as Maya waited.

“Mr. Walters, Sam, are you all right?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Sam snapped.

What is this fool’s problem?
He’d been friendly during their phone conversation, she was being friendly right now…why couldn’t they all just get along? Maya took a deep breath and decided to try a different tactic.

She reached down and opened her briefcase, purposely taking a moment before pulling out two folders and sitting up. Her breasts pressed together and ridged the top of her blouse like two chocolate bonbons. Sean’s frown deepened, even as blood rushed straight to the tip of his shaft.

“I brought some information that I thought may be of interest to you,” Maya said. “The top folder contains information about the Century City corridor, a really hot real estate area right now. You might already be aware of the recent purchases made there by the Rosenthal Group. Admittedly, those were some nice buys, but we, B&A, are focusing further west, in Santa Monica.” Maya wondered whether or not to tell him about her involvement in one of those sales, and decided to do so, figuring it might up her professional stature in his eyes. “In fact,” she continued, “I just helped close my first deal there, the Esperion Building on Wilshire.” Maya smiled broadly, not even trying to keep the pride out of her voice.

Sam peeped over the folder he’d been holding up to his face to block Maya from his view and recapture control of his member and his mind. He knew he was being a cad, and knew that for Maya Jamison this was totally out of the character he’d exhibited on the phone. He was normally the epitome of professionalism; he could change characters and demeanors on a dime. Now, he knew, needed to be one of those times.

“Why, Maya, that’s just smashing,” he offered, putting down the folder and folding his hands across his stomach. “I didn’t know your, uh, myriad of talents extended outside the office.”

Did he just try and insult me?
Maya took a breath to keep her composure. What was it about this man that rankled her so? She squared her shoulders as if preparing to go into battle and reminded herself who she was: the woman who by sheer will and a mother’s love had escaped South Central, graduated with honors, held her family together after her mother died, and landed one of the most coveted jobs in real estate. If she could do all that, then surely she could handle Sam Walters.
Pull it together, Maya!

She sat with perfect posture, slowly crossed her legs, and smiled. “Yes, Sam, I have many talents that are exhibited outside the office.” After a moment’s pause she continued. “I’ve had my Realtor’s license for a little over a year now, but this is my first, multimillion-dollar deal. In addition, I belong to several professional organizations and sit on the board of the Boys and Girls Club located in my old neighborhood. I believe one should use one’s…talents…in as many ways as possible, in a…variety of positions. Don’t you agree?”

Sean knew it was ridiculous, but he was jealous of his alter ego, jealous of himself! How was it that Maya could flirt shamelessly with who she referred to as the bumbling Brit Sam Walters. Well, if she thought to do this job on her back, he’d be more than accommodating. “Yes, Ms. Jamison, I couldn’t agree with you more.” Sam licked his lips. “I believe in filling a…variety of…positions…myself.”

Maya resisted the urge to gag. She didn’t want her flirtations to work too well, too fast. Her voice became authoritative. “The second folder has information on a few key professional organizations that may be of interest to you, as well as members-only clubs that are frequented by real estate professionals, and one that seems to be a favorite among British transports.”

Sam picked up the second folder and slowly flipped through its contents. As he did so, Maya’s attention became fixated on his hands, particularly his fingers. They were long, with tapered, manicured fingernails, totally out of character with the rest of Sam’s bumbling persona. Her eyes ran the length of Sam’s arm up to his face, where, for the first time, she carefully studied it. Granted, the Afro gave his face a rounder appearance, but were it not for the mustache and beard, it could be quite angular. His lips were barely visible underneath the bushy mustache, but when he’d licked them…Maya’s eyes narrowed as she tried to imagine Sam without all the facial hair. That’s when Sam looked up.

“That’s some fairly thorough scrutinizing you’re doing,” Sam said, narrowing his eyes as well. “As if you’re sizing up your prey. Shall I be one fortunate enough to witness your…hunting skills, Ms. Jamison?”

“Someone of your stature and intelligence could hardly be called prey, Mr. Walters,” Maya retorted. “Actually, I was trying to figure out who you remind me of. There’s something about your nose and eyes but”—Maya shrugged—“nobody I know of comes to mind. Excuse me for making you uncomfortable.”

“Hardly,” Sam said, placing the papers back inside the folders and putting the folders in a desk drawer. “I plan to become very comfortable with you, Maya. I’m very glad Zeke suggested you for my research and to help me get better acclimated here socially.”

Sam rose from his seat, went to look out the window, and spoke to Maya without facing her. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Excuse me?” Maya wasn’t ready for the rapid change of topic.

“Tonight,” Sam said, turning around. “What are you doing?”

Maya reached for her BlackBerry, and after a quick check replied, “I have a meeting at six o’clock that will last about an hour.”

“Good. Let’s say dinner at…seven thirty?”

“Dinner?”

“Or should I call it a dinner meeting? Will that make
you
more comfortable?”

Maya hid her chagrin behind a laugh. “Dinner is fine.” She glanced at her watch, picked up her briefcase, and stood. “Where shall I meet you?”

“I’ll send a car for you. Leave your address, please.”

“That’s quite all right, I’d rather drive.”

“And I’d rather you be chauffered. You don’t want to upset Zeke’s client, now, do you?”

Maya was seething but when she spoke, her voice was smooth as silk. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Sam.”

She reached for the pen and pad on his desk, rapidly wrote down her address, and once finished held out her hand. Their handshake was strong and very businesslike.

“It’s been a pleasure,” Sam said.
But not half as pleasurable as when I’m pounding that tight pudding of yours.

“I look forward to tonight,” Maya responded.
About as much as a pig looks forward to becoming sausage.

After cordial good-byes, Maya turned and left, putting just enough sway in her hips to tease Sam with just how well she could move them. She felt she’d walked the line perfectly, part temptress, part top-notch executive. Tonight would be trickier to navigate, but with round one under her belt, she was more than ready for round two.

Sean’s eyes stayed glued to Maya’s backside as he watched her glide from the office in her high-heeled pumps. As he’d imagined, the suedelike material hugged her body like an overeager lover, while staying just inside what qualified as professional attire.

Sean slowly sank back into the large leather chair behind the large, impersonal desk.
This is madness. How am I going to keep my hands off her?
His best-laid plans had flown out the window the moment Maya walked, or rather flowed, into the room, a chocolate Aphrodite come to steal his soul. His were the best intentions in devising the plan to keep Maya close, and safe. But he didn’t know if it would go as he’d planned. She was supposed to be the one fidgeting right now, the one out of sorts and off-balance. But Maya was the picture of poise and while she’d ridged a bit when he came on to her in his sloppy, Sam Walters style, she’d recovered quickly and proceeded to give him a dose of his own medicine, with her clever banter and discreetly displayed assets. Sean knew he needed to step up his game, and he needed to do it quickly.