The Accidental Mistress (11 page)

"That's not how those
people work. They put their name on companies and then take over.
It's what Montague does. That Elliot guy made it very clear when he
met with
père
,"
Joi reminded her.

"Maybe, maybe not. We need to sweeten the
deal."

"With what?" Jean-Paul asked.

Zuri shrugged, but she secretly knew. "Let
me worry about that. What we must do is make them think that the
Oasis is a class act, which it is. So call the staff and have them
here in the morning. I'll take care of the accounts, move some
money around. We can do it."

Joi and Jean-Paul exchanged worried
looks.

"There's something else," Zuri said. "This
you won't like. This is where complete discretion is needed."

"What?" they asked in unison.

"Me."

"You?" Jean-Paul asked.

"He doesn't need to know who I am. I work
for the resort. I represent the family but I am not Claude
Baptiste's daughter."

"Why?" Joi asked.

Zuri had pondered hard on
the
why's
. She
wouldn't let Christophe use her mistake against her father. She'd
tell him that she was the hotel manager and working directly with
the attorneys. And if he wanted to exploit her, well she was
banking on this time making him pay big for it."

"Trust me."

"Fine," Joi said, but Jean-Paul remained
unconvinced. Zuri forced a smile. She shared with him when she
returned from the states, her heartbreak over Christophe's
treatment. Not the details, a very watered down version. But she
shared her pain. He was a comfort. They were friends, and she
ruined it, took advantage of his feelings for comfort. She sucked
at the mating game.

“
Can I speak to
you?”

“
Sure,” she said casually.
“Joi, I'll see you later this evening.”

“
Yeah, yeah,” Joi waved
them both off and left.

Jean-Paul stepped to her the moment Joi left
the room. "You know we haven't seen each other in a while."

“
Since
Christmas.”

“
Yes. Christmas. How have
you been? Really. I've thought of you so often.”

Zuri gave him her best
smile. "Life has been good. I'm good. Now I need to um, focus, you
know, on the Oasis. This is
père's
legacy we're talking about. I let him down before.
He needs this place. I plan to do whatever it takes to make sure he
has it."

“
Zuri, you never let him
down.” He cupped her face. His lips drew closer as if he wanted to
kiss her. She braced her palms against his chest and pushed back.
“JP, I can't. I just can't. Okay?”

“
Will you ever lower your
walls? Allow a man to love you?”

Her eyes drifted down.

Jean-Paul hooked his finger
under her chin and lifted her face.
« 
Je pense
toujours à toi.
I am always thinking of
you.
”

“
I think of you too, JP.
Just... just not like this. I'm sorry.”

Jean-Paul dropped his forehead to hers. “I'm
a patient man.”

***

Zuri brushed her hair until it was shiny and
flat to her head after the shower. Her bungalow location made it a
short walk from where Christophe Montague would stay. This she did
on purpose. She needed to have access to Christophe beyond the eyes
of the others if she was to pull this off. Even now, she found her
plan risky, and flawed. It had been four years since they met. What
if he didn't remember her? What if he had married? Or worse, what
if he had no interest in her beyond that one night.

Zuri threw the brush into the sink. The
choice was simple. She'd negotiate and play to his business side.
Hell, she had gotten through law school. She'd been hired by one of
the top law firms in Chicago before passing the bar. She'd done
that on her own. Not because she was Claude Baptiste daughter. No,
she'd done it because she’s capable. Christophe would be in for a
surprise as to the woman she was now.

Zuri stared at her reflection: the doubt,
fear, panic had been replaced by her pride, and conviction. But the
question of who Christophe was now, nagged her. All she really knew
about him was he was a cold bastard.

Agitated, she left the bathroom, located her
master key to all the rooms and exited her bungalow. She returned
to the one she had prepared for him. She checked and then
double-checked everything. She even made sure the bar had been
stocked with Johnny Walker Blue. Tomorrow would be show time.

“
Oh,
père
,” Zuri said sitting on the bed.
She reached for the phone, dialing her parents despite the late
hour.

"
Hello,
mère
?"

"Zuri?"

"How's
père
?"

"Better. Today he sat up on his own. He's
getting stronger. I feel it."

"And you,
mère
? How are
you?"

"
Bien
. He asked about Montague, the
meeting you plan to have tomorrow."

“
Tell him that I met with
Detrick. We have enough in our accounts for him to be on retainer.
I'm handling it,
mère
.”

"I don't think Detrick will be much
help."

Zuri frowned. “Why?”

“
He's been here and
I
—
” her mother's
voice faltered. “I don't like others hovering around your father
like he's dying. He's recovering. He needs positive
energy.”

“
You think Detrick betrayed
dad?”

"No. No, Zuri, I just think that we should
help ourselves, chérie. The best we can. Zuri, what about the bar
exam? You were so worried about studying and passing your
test."

"I can take the bar later.
This is more important. Now tell
père
, that I will see him in a few
days. I'll have news. Tell him to rest, and oh, tell him I love him
okay."

"
Oui, ma chérie
. You and Joi call me
if you need me."

"Take care of you
too,
mère
."

"Love you."

"
Moi aussi, je
t'aime
."

Zuri set the phone down. She fell over on
the bed, and closed her eyes. Tears leaked and trekked down her
cheeks. Zuri curled up and let go her pain. It would be the last
time she cried. Soon she drifted to sleep.

***

“
Bonjour
, um, we weren't expecting you
for two days.” A young beauty flashed a smile despite the late
hour. Christophe yawned. Elliot announced once again how important
they were. To hear him talk one would think he struck his fortune
yesterday, instead of having been born with a golden pacifier.
Christophe tired of the show. The flight with the ‘Zuri look alike’
fighting off his cousin's advances had taken its toll. He wanted
sleep, and quiet.

"Can I have my room," Christophe
grumbled.

"Ah, um, well...
oui
of course. I know
that Mademoiselle Baptiste wanted to greet you personally. If you
wait, I can ring her and have her come and meet you."

"Give me the key, I'll meet
with your manager tomorrow."
Christophe said.

"
Oui
.
Bien sûr
."

"What about you sweetie? You working all
night? Maybe you can give me a private tour of my suite?" Elliot
asked.

The woman's smile faded. She nervously
fiddled with the keys handing it over with a map that would lead
Christophe out to his bungalow. He nodded his thanks, picked up his
luggage despite the offer from the flustered valet and headed for
the doors. A glance back over his shoulder confirmed what he
suspected. Elliot was on the prowl, managing to turn off every
woman he met. His cousin reached across the counter and touched the
braids cascading past the shoulders of the young woman, with a sly
smile. The appraisal of the Oasis will be done on his own.

***

What the hell is going
on
?

A woman, whom he'd never met, lay in his
bed. A thick white terrycloth robe covered her. He discovered her
with her arms curled around her pillow and her bed tossed hair was
spread over her face. Christophe stood mute in his confusion. Had
the receptionist given him the wrong room key? Did he access the
wrong room?

"Hello?" he said.

He only spoke once. The
brown beauty sat up startled, and the sight of her cut off
Christophe's breathing.
It's not her, it
can't be, this is some kind of cosmic joke, has to be!
He had only been thinking of her hours earlier.
Were his eyes deceiving him now? Was it delirium from the long
flight, or possibly a fever?

"Zuri?"

"Hello." Zuri clutched the top lapel of the
robe in one hand and fixed the split that had revealed more of her
thighs than intended. "I'm surprised you remember my name."

"What the hell is going on? Why are you
here?"

"Sorry, I fell asleep. I only came in here
to make sure things were to your liking," she said dryly.

"I want an explanation." Christophe
demanded.

"Do you?" There was an unmistakable frost in
her tone. It came a close second to the contempt in her eyes. She
was different. Still radiant, but minus the wide-eyed innocence and
girlish purity he found in her before. Zuri rose, poised and
confident despite the impropriety. She slipped her hands in her
robe; her bare feet were flat to the hardwood floor.

"I'm the manager here at Oasis."

Christophe ran his hand back through his
hair and scratched the bewilderment itching his scalp. "You? The
manager?"

"Is that so hard to believe?" she
snipped.

"No, I just, well I'm surprised."

"So am I, you weren't supposed to arrive
until Friday. Guess you decided to catch us off guard. Is your wife
with you?" she asked looking past him to the open door.

Christophe chuckled. "I'm
not married, Zuri. Damn this is weird, a coincidence, but weird
because I
—
"
Christophe found it impossible to articulate his thoughts. He'd
played this moment over in his head a hundred times. She in his
bed, basking in afterglow after sharing the most remarkable night
with her, he'd explain his actions and she'd giggle softly,
sweetly, and then tell him she knew his fears and she forgave him
his faults.

"Well, goodnight. We can discuss matters
officially in the morning."

"Wait," he said matching her step,
effectively positioning himself between her and the only door in
the room. "This is some coincidence, huh?"

She didn't look amused.

"I never thought... I just never thought
we'd meet again, like this."

"And so we have. Coincidence over. Now if
you will excuse me."

"Zuri, wait. Are you from here? I noticed a
bit of a Caribbean accent with you, French Caribbean, so it's
Martinique?"

"Tomorrow morning I will
introduce you to my staff. From there, I'd like to meet with you to
go over the business plans for restoration of the Oasis. I
represent the Baptiste family Mr. Montague
—
"

"Mr.? Don't call
me
—
"

"And their wishes are for you to enjoy the
pleasures of Oasis and their island home before you make any
decisions on the acquisition. I will see to it. There is much to
love about Martinique."

"Zuri, I want to talk to
you, about that night. When we
—
"

"We had fun. I planned it, remember? Let
that be the end of the discussion of that unfortunate incident. I
rather discuss business, and business only."

"Fine. Have it your way. Business, let's
discuss it. We do it now, not in the morning." He gave her a sly
smirk. "Give me your pitch. You got ten minutes. I know you have a
counter proposal. Let's hear it or else I make a call and stamp a
big M on the front of the building."

Zuri's smug coolness chipped. He saw it
first in those beautiful round brown eyes of hers. Had she thought
of him at all? Had she let another man touch her since he had the
pleasure? A heated surge of regret boiled his gut at the thought of
it, which he struggled to cover under his expressionless mask.
Emotions were a weakness. How was he to control his with her
standing so close?

"Well, Zuri? I'm waiting."

"Here's my counter offer."
She cut him off. "The Baptiste are smart business people. They only
suffered misfortune because of the hurricane but so has all of
Martinique. The republic is slow to rebuild, and as for business
owners, well as you know we stand on our own. I want you to agree
to a partnership. A very profitable deal for your company, if you
consider the rich cosmopolitan appeal of this
island
—
"

"Get to the point."

"The Baptiste will obtain financial backing
through Montague with a 60, 40 split of ownership in favor of their
interests of course."

"Really?" Christophe said amused, wiping his
hand down his face. "Now why would I approve such a outlandish deal
for a fledging hotel?"

"Because Montague needs us."

"This I have to hear." said Christophe.

"Although Montague is doing well in the
States, the company has long ties to France. Think of the political
climate with the Martinican's who believe they will never have any
independence thanks to the sovereign rule. To make this deal will
make you a champion of these people and a caring French
businessman. It would soften your image."