Unconventional (The Manhattanites #4) (19 page)

“It’s too soon for that. You’ll ruin—”

He pressed his fingers on Dejon’s lips to shut him up. “We’ll talk about your girl later. Not here. This is about Dad. Not you.”

“Right.” Dejon pushed Dash’s hand away from his face.

“I bet these diamonds have sentimental value to our family.” Dash figured the stones must be in the hands of a designer, or maybe were being cut and polished at some off-site location, perhaps the Ivory Coast. “How hard could this be?”

“You wanna die repeating Kamara’s footsteps? Go right ahead. Not me!” Chest out, arms crossed, Dejon showed Dash he wasn’t afraid of him anymore. But Dash knew Dejon would back down. He always did. “Mum told us never to get mixed up in Daddy’s affairs.”

“Right, let’s not forget Mum.” Instinctively, Dash wrapped both hands around the back of Dejon’s neck, as if he might head-butt him. Nose to nose, he spoke harshly. “Kamara died for Dad. Mum moved us to London so we could have a better life. Now, my days are spent working for her as Kamara had done for him. Don’t you get it?”

“Not really.” Without a care in the world, Dejon shrugged.

That nonchalant gesture almost sent his foot up Dejon’s arse, but he kept his cool. He’d let Dejon be heard. He finally knew his twin’s desire to go to the States.
Well, not yet.
“You haven’t done
shit
for this family.” Dash sprayed his words on his brother’s face. “I am doing this for Dad, for Kamara, and for the millions of women and children who have died over these stones. If you don’t agree today to help me, I will make certain you
never
get to the US.”

Dejon’s chin dropped hearing his brother’s threat.

“I’ll feed you to these rebels as if you were nothing more than a scoop of bread pudding. I mean it.” He didn’t, but Dash felt like showing him how some of these locals lived. Certainly not at this beachside mansion, behind armed guards, that was for sure. “You’re spoiled, a baby with no responsibility. When did you become such a selfish twat?”

“Fuck you, Dash.”

It was his brother’s chance to grow a pair of Turay’s famously hung balls. Dash would see to it. “Step up. We are no more British than we are African. It easily could’ve been us working in those mines, Dejon. Instead, we were born into the Turays, on the other side of the glittery fence.”

“We don’t belong here.”

“Mum might’ve taken us away, but Dad is calling us back.” He licked his lips then added, “Be a man before you bugger off making babies with the American.”

Muttering curse words, Dejon tried to pull away. Dash released him, recognizing that look on his brother’s face. His twin gave in. “Daddy…we’ll do whatever you need,” Dejon shouted dramatically.

Banja didn’t reply.

“Did you hear me? Daddy, I said we’ll do it. We’ll
steal
for you.”

He put his arm around Dejon’s shoulder. “See, you wanker, that wasn’t so hard.” Just as they walked up to the bed, Dash’s right foot stepped over the folder. The papers must’ve fallen while they talked.

Blimey fuck…

On his back, Banja stared up at the ceiling. His mouth hung open.

“Daddy’s gone…” Dejon hugged himself.

Taking his father’s hand in his, Dash checked for a pulse. When he couldn’t find one, he ran his palm over his father’s eyes and closed them. “We love you, Father.”

Times Square, New York

Taddy sat in her conference room studying her calendar. Tapping her python pump against the floor, she focused on how to make the impossible work. “Paloma, darling, this season’s exhibition schedule is tighter than one of Duchess of Alba’s facelifts. I’m not sure we can manage all these trade shows for you.”

“
Sì
, put another Brill girl on my account.” Paloma Tittoni, queen of all things bedazzled, daughter to the Royal House of Girasoli and sister-in-law to Taddy’s lifelong friend Lex Easton, winked a glittered eyelash at her. “We have oodles to do. Paloma Gems is all I have. It’s my life. My days of being melancholy with this bling business are
over
. This year, I’m not just doing jewelry, I
am
jewelry! Let’s take my baby public.”

“Now we’re talking my favorite language—money.”

“So, I need more than
you
. I need the mini-me version of you working on my account, too.”

“Ha.” Taddy laughed, gliding her red acrylic nails over the statement necklace dipped in 18 carat gold. Paloma had brought with her some of the upcoming collection. “I’ll have to double your retainer for that level of manpower.”

“Triple it. This is Paloma Gems’ year to kick Cartier’s French ass.
Capisce
?”

“Ohhh, you’re turning me on.” Taddy shifted in her seat. She adored her competitive clients almost as much as those willing to pay three times her fee. Nevertheless, who could she trust with these expensive pieces? “Anyone come to mind you’d want added onto your account? How about Ragan?”

“That Ragan is
stupido
.” Paloma flipped her long, sable hair over her bare, Mediterranean-bronzed shoulder. “No. Paloma Gems requires a publicity executive who is in touch with the marketplace. One who will work harder than you have to get my media buzzing.”

“Duckie Capri? I could transfer him from Blake’s team. He’d do anything to be a part of the fashion and jewelry division. He loves his sparkles. Can’t say I blame him.” Taddy couldn’t help herself; she had to try the necklace on. Unfastening the clasp, she held the heavy bling up to her décolletage.
I feel like effin’ Cleopatra.

“Your goose, duck, whatever you call him, is cute and connected. But he can’t spell. I’ve read his emails. No. Taddy, you know who I want. Let’s not waste another minute. Put that adorable Kiki on my account. She’s got spunk!”

Since hiring Kiki Izatt, she’d been protective of her. Nurturing her career step by step, she’d only wanted to see Kiki succeed. Paloma Gems would be a massive undertaking. Compared to her other clients, a jewelry brand had the highest cost of goods, thus the most room for failure.

“Kiki is recently engaged to a young man. A disc jockey who lives in London. I’m afraid her time might not be as
focused
as you wish, Paloma.”

“Is Kiki pregnant?” Paloma asked.

Her assistant was many things. Curious, quirky, intelligent, humble, and cute to the point where Taddy had wondered if she’d had a girl-crush on her. Nevertheless, pregnant or sexually active was not on the short or long list of adjectives to describe Kiki Izatt.

Lord, had she tried over the years to get Kiki laid. Taddy had flown her virgin ass around the world, hired the hottest (and most expensive) male escorts from Greece to take Kiki out on the town, had introduced her to the who’s who of the TriBeCa nightlife, had even offered up her muscular butler from Russia, as well as her ever-so-BDSM-kinky cosmetic surgeon who had a fetish for flat-chested girls, but nothing had worked.

That girl had held on to her chastity as if it was the last piece of couture Alexandra McQueen had ever sewn.

“God willing, but no. I have an idea, Paloma darling. I’ll have Kiki shadow me until we get to the Euro Diamond Expo in Stockholm. If she’s pulling her own, then she’ll be on your account full-time as the primary lead.”

“And if not?”

“Then Paloma Gems gets the fiercely connected Duckie Capri.” She’d buy him a dictionary.

“Deal!” From around her wrist, Paloma adjusted an oversized pink diamond bangle.

“Those stones are exceptional. Where are they from?”

“Sierra Leone.” Paloma slid the bracelet off her wrist and placed it on Taddy’s. “That reminds me of one more teensy-weensy thing we must discuss. Then we’re off to lunch at Cipriani, my treat.”

“Okay.” Familiar with clients who waited ‘til the last minute of their meetings to slip in some off-the-charts request, she grimaced. Hoping this wouldn’t require half a bottle of Xanax and a vodka martini to recover from, she encouraged, “Let’s hear it.”

“I want to talk to you about something I simply
must
get my hands on.” Her iPad appeared from her bag. She turned it on, tapped the screen a few times, and then slid it across the table.

An image of a semi-clear chunk of ice glared back at Taddy.

“How many carats?” Taddy asked. She’d never seen anything so precious and large. Well, other than her boyfriend’s cock, which she’d fondly coined ‘the anaconda,’ of course. She crossed her legs, feeling a stir in her pussy from the mere thought of her Big Daddy.

“Gemologists call it The Great Nova of Africa. It has four thousand Cs, give or take. It’s the largest diamond in the world. A few weeks ago, Kristie’s put it up for auction. A sheik from the Middle East bought it as a gift for actress Scarlett Johansson. She wasn’t amused and sent it back. It’ll be on display at The Style Gala’s auction party.” Paloma squealed, clapping her adorned fingers. “Oh, Taddy, I simply must buy it.”

“And do
what
with it, exactly?” Almost wet, her thighs clenched as she inched up and squared her shoulders against the seat. Luxurious things, especially diamonds, made her hot.

“Cut the stone. Use it in my next collection. Won’t that be the best media buzz?”

“Yes, very, darling.
Huge.
Now Paloma, I know your brand is doing well. Hell, you’ve squashed Miss Tiffany in editorial. But that sheik, he must be selling this for tens of millions of dollars.”

“Try hundreds of millions,” Paloma corrected.

“Is your brother, Prince Tittoni, making a financial investment in Paloma Gems?”

“No. Massimo’s hands are tied with Easton Essentials and Lex’s pregnancy. I thought of asking…Warner Truman.”

“
My boyfriend?
” she asked as Paloma gave her a nod. “Warner buys hotels, not baubles. And even if I wanted him to do this, I’m not sure I could convince him.”

Warner had only been focused on two things since the day she’d met him: her happiness and his resort empire. Nothing else mattered to that man.

“Jiggle your
gifts
in his face.” Paloma’s attention shot straight for Taddy’s cleavage.

Taddy had always been proud of her breasts. Men loved them. Women were jealous of them. And whenever she played with them, letting Warner watch, he’d pretty much do whatever the hell she wanted.

“Meaning?” Pouting her lips innocently, she glanced down at her own set of knockers.

“I’m opening two boutiques in Warner’s hotels this year. It’s about time Warner invested. The more buzz I get, the more I sell, the more stores I open, the more mini-me’s of you I’ll need to retain. You follow me?” Paloma eyed the statement piece around Taddy’s neck and took her iPad back.

“You know I love my money right where I can see it, on my body. Perhaps I’d understand better if I had some Paloma Gems inspiration.” Letting out a slight sigh, she stroked the necklace perversely with pleasure. “I’m sure my Big Daddy, Warner Truman, would love my girls dressed up in this piece of fine craftsmanship.”

“
Capisce.
Cost me fifty Gs. It’s all yours.” With a flash of her white teeth, Paloma Tittoni, CEO of Paloma Gems, America’s hottest jewelry brand, radiated satisfaction. “Adorn a girl with jewelry and she can conquer the world!”

“Kiki will be tickled pink with this news. But we can’t tell her ‘til we get to Stockholm. I don’t want to get her hopes up.” Taddy sat back in her chair. She liked the sound of this, especially if they were going to take Paloma Gems public on the New York Stock Exchange within the year. Her assistant would shine, Warner would have another business to invest in, and Brill, Inc. would keep Paloma happy.
Everyone wins. Right?

Sierra Leone, West Coast of Africa

Dejon cried for what seemed to be hours. He wasn’t sure why, since they hadn’t seen their dad in years. Was it the lost opportunity of ever getting to know Banja that made his death so hard to take?

Maybe….

But there was no time to be sad. He couldn’t believe his brother forced him into this mission. Dash always got whatever he wanted—their mother’s love, respect from everyone they knew and tons of girls who flocked around him. Simply maddening.