Unconventional (The Manhattanites #4) (22 page)

Fuck no!

“All on my own?” Her feminine hands shot into the air.

“Make your fellow Brill girls proud, darling. Both accounts are
all yours
.”

Blimy.

“Miss Brill!” Kiki’s body shook excitedly. Jumping, she dropped her hair brush and turned into Dejon, hugging him above his waist. “I’m so happy. I’ve been waiting since I started working there to get my own publicity portfolio.”

This wasn’t the news he wanted to hear. The Style Gala was his next heist.

Her glassy blue eyes looked up at him, waiting to catch his shared enthusiasm.

“I’m proud of you, babe.” He leaned down, pressing his lips to hers. She wrapped her legs around him as he lifted her up. Holding her close, he hoped she wouldn’t notice the panic swelling in his throat.

His disc jockey cover had worked so well for the last few months. He and his brother had stolen the blood diamonds to give back to his people in West Africa. It was a modern day Robin Hood scenario. They couldn’t get caught. Not when they’d worked hard and had come so close to fulfilling the promise made to their late father. After the night’s event, all of the stones will have been retrieved.

“Kiki, you still there?” Taddy asked then shouted at someone in the background to go through the next traffic light, and drive faster. Her directive followed many curse words. Dejon could’ve sworn it sounded as though Taddy puffed on a cigarette. Kiki said she’d quit.

“Yes, I’m here.” Her svelte figure slid down Dejon’s torso ‘til she touched the floor.

“I’m not at the conference but on my way to the airport. Lex called after our dinner last night. Appears Vive escaped Hampton Horizons’. Warner sent his jet to come pick me up. He’s so sweet. It should be at the gate any minute. When I land, I’m off to search for her.”

“Oh, no!” Kiki gasped.

“What’s Hampton Horizons?” he mouthed to Kiki, so Taddy couldn’t hear him.

“Rehab,” she whispered.

Dejon noted this drama as another day in the lifestyles of the rich and famous.
Escaping from rehab.
“Who does such a thing?” he asked.

“Viveca Farnworth, that’s who! She drinks too much.” Rolling her stormy blue eyes, Kiki showed her disappointment in Taddy’s friend.

“At the concierge desk, I left your notes for the day. Paloma is at her booth. When you see her, she’s got news of her own to share with you about her upcoming jewelry collection, so act excited. Paloma thrives on your enthusiasm. You’re both on the red-eye tonight. I’m sorry you’re flying commercial, honey. It leaves after the dinner with that HerSay magazine editor.”

“Got it.”

“Get that journalist loosened up, would ya? She’s been a nasty b-i-t-c-h this entire press trip to Stockholm.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Remember, it’s our job to make the media love our clients, while enjoying themselves in the process.”

“I’m on it.”

Dejon rested his chin on Kiki’s forehead, wrapping her tight in his arms while she talked. Eyes shut, he tried to think of what to do. Quitting the blood diamond missions was a must if he was ever going to marry Kiki.
I want my life back.

“Darling, assuming I find Vive and soon, I’ll see you back in the Big Apple. Come straight to my office after you land. We’ll go over The Style Gala, okay?”

“Will do. Please, tell Mr. Truman I said hello.” Her body straightened, “Ah…and Miss Brill…please, let the customs agents know you have a gun when you land at JFK. If not, you’ll be detained. Again.”

He laughed, thinking back to when Kiki had mentioned Taddy carried a handgun in her purse with her at all times. Said it had something to do with Taddy’s teen years, and her needing to feel protected.

“No worries. I got my Fendi right here. Bye, kids. Ohhh, and hello, Dejon. You love-sick puppy!” Taddy snorted then hung up.

Relieved to have Kiki to himself, he inhaled deeply, trying to think about how to handle this disaster. How does one tell their fiancée they’re going to steal from their client? Should he tell Dash that Kiki stepped even deeper into their blood diamond territory? He couldn’t. Dash didn’t even know Kiki was in Stockholm, let alone working at the exhibit.
Stay calm.

“Sounds as though you’re on your own today. No one to boss you around. We could order room service and snog, yeah?”

“First
shag
now
snog
. Ha!” Turning around, she zipped up her brown roller bag then pushed it to the door. “You don’t let up, do you? I have to attend to Paloma. With Miss Brill gone, this means my day will be spent filling her shoes, as well as walking in my own.”

“I love your
walk,
regardless of what shoes you wear, babe. But you work too hard.” Dejon couldn’t believe Kiki was representing Paloma Gems and The Style Gala. When they’d met, she didn’t have anything to do with the diamond industry. Hell, neither did he—
until a few months ago
.

At the time, Dejon had mixed records as one of the world’s best disc jockeys. He still was, but he also spun conveniently at private parties honoring trinkets and baubles, to get in the door of famous jewelry designers. And once there, he’d put Banja’s disarming instructions into action, busting into safes, stealing stones, and replacing them with crystal duplicates. It had fooled security for a few hours ‘til he and Dash could fly off to the next soirée.

Banja had left behind cutting equipment to reshape the stones before bringing them back to Africa. It had become pretty clear to him and Dash that Banja had been retrieving blood diamonds for years.

“My schedule is only going to get more intense, but in a good way. To think, I’ve been assisting on the Paloma Gems account, and now I get the reins of the industry’s hottest jewelry brand. Every celeb wears Paloma.”

More like hottest conspirator of blood diamonds.
The idea of it all made him nauseous, but he had to be supportive to her. “How can I help?”

“Get to your own room, mister. I’m checking out.” She came over and hugged him. He pulled her in tight for a deep, wet kiss as his cock stiffened against her. “What party did you say you’re spinning at tonight?” For the first time, Kiki looked up at him suspiciously.

“I didn’t.”

“Which one?” she asked, tucking her blouse into her slacks.

“Sweedorvski.”

“Wow! Dejon. That’s the Iced Sherbet Diamond premier party. Very impressive. And here Miss Brill thinks you’re stalking me,” Kiki joked.

“It’s not my fault that wherever you go, there’s a party for me to work.” That much was true. Brill, Inc. held steady as the nuclei of all things fabulous.

“You really are the go-to guy for music and parties for the well-off. Maybe my
new
client, The Style Gala, should retain you to spin there, too.”

“Already booked for that event.”
Bloody fuck. I wish I wasn’t.

“Of course you are.” Kiki hummed a song he’d mixed for her when he’d proposed, called, “I Married a DJ.” She reached for his hand. “So then, in a way, we’ll be working together on the gala.”

“More time for us to be together, babe.”

He’d seen more of his fiancée in recent weeks than he had in the two years they’d dated long-distance. Dejon had rented his own apartment in New York a few weeks back, so their goodbyes weren’t as bittersweet as before.

“My flight isn’t ‘til late.”

“The Sweedorvski’s peeps will be fist-pumping to my trance mixes while you’re up in the air.” He smiled, trying to show some ease.

He was anything but. While the party indeed would be in full swing, he’d have the music set to auto-play while he and Dash stole the Iced Sherbet diamond.

“I wish you would’ve told me sooner. We could’ve made plans.”

“Change your ticket, stay longer. Come to the party. I’ll buy you a dress to wear.” He knew she’d say no.

“You heard
her
. We have to plan for The Style Gala.” Kiki’s face beamed. “You know, for my first client.” He loved her expressive face. It was the shape of a heart with big kewpie doll eyes and a small mouth, one he’d just learned was very good at sucking.

“We always have next week. I’m off to Africa for a few days, after here. Then home to New York. I could bring lunch to your office when I get back.” Kissing her on the lips, then on each wrist, he hoped the vanilla scent might stay with him. Dejon didn’t want her to go.

“Thank you, I’d love that. Is your brother still coming to New York?” She slipped on her blazer.

“Ugh.”
I hope Dash cancels.

“I can’t wait to meet him.” She stepped into her shoes.

“Right. Next week it is.”

“Jilly was so gracious last month. I loved the jewelry she gave me.” Fingering the trinket around her slender neck, she seemed to put thought before saying, “I’d never met a retired soap star before. She wears the funkiest hats and wigs.”

“That’s Mum.”

“I just know your brother will be nice, too.”

“Suppose I’ll set up a dinner.” He couldn’t put off having Kiki meet his twin any longer.

Dash had tried several times to see her when he’d come to town. But Kiki was traveling with Taddy for work. At least, that’s what Dejon had told him.

“Yay! You never talk about Dash.” Kiki paused as if she’d said his name incorrectly. She hadn’t. “I don’t even know what he looks like. Is he as handsome as you?”

“Wait and see.” Dejon felt his mouth draw into a frown, realizing he’d avoided telling Kiki that he and Dash were identical. He’d learned a long time before not to.

Every girl who’d found out they were twins wanted to meet the other one. It wasn’t long after that, the girl’s ‘twin-cest’ fantasies ignited like the Great Fire of London. Then, before he knew it, she’d be somewhere between them, orgasming.

Was it hot? Sure, for her.

For Dejon, it was exhausting. Dash played up his stud part, while he was the one emotionally available. The good boyfriend while his brother was—well, according to the women they’d shared, Dash was a really dominant fuck who always made the girl’s orgasm his priority.

“What’s Dash like?”

He’s no fanny. Impossible to stand up to. An attention hog in bed and in life. Off his nut. A girlfriend stealer. My twin.
“Different from your siblings, that’s for sure.”

When he’d flown to Provo two years back and met the Izatts, they’d put him up in a nearby hotel. Mr. and Mrs. Izatt had made it clear that since he and Kiki were merely dating, he couldn’t stay at the house. Kiki grew up in a conservative Mormon home, and although she didn’t live there anymore, they still stuck by their traditions when she visited.

“How so?” Kiki asked, slipping on her wristwatch.

“Dash is adventurous.”

Sexually, Dash would desire Kiki. Everyone wanted Kiki. Irresistible, she was a rare find.
His
find, not his twin’s. But he wasn’t sure how Kiki would take to Dash. He didn’t think she was that type of girl, and he sure as hell didn’t want to scare her away finding out. Plus, he and Dash weren’t kids anymore. It was time to grow up and stop sharing
everything
.

“You said he’s older. By how much?”

“Mum had us right after each other.”

“Ah-huh, my mom did, too. I’d get my sisters’ hand-me-downs. I hated that. But it taught me to share, appreciate new things and make the best of the old ones.”

“Sharing is caring.” Dejon didn’t mean to sound saucy. He was done with Dash. After this third and last heist in New York, he’d marry Kiki and start over.

Kiki perked up. “Oh, and Dejon…maybe when you get back, we could finish what you started this morning. You know, the….”

“Sex?”

“Oral,” Kiki corrected.

“How about anal?” He swatted her butt as she walked to the door.

Turning around, he noticed her cheeks redden. She chewed at her lower lip for almost a full minute. Long enough to hear the shower, in the room next to theirs, go on. “Maybe.” Kiki’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at her own response. She opened the door and left.

“Cheers!” He collapsed on the bed.
Cor, love a duck. What’ll I do now?

His pants vibrated. Pulling his cell from his pocket, he read the text.

Dash: Dude, WTF R U?

Err.
He couldn’t tell him Kiki was there.

Dejon: Coffee. Want some?

Dash: No. Thnx. Got the autodialer to work. :-)

Ugh!

Dejon: Great. C U soon. Stop texting me!!!

He’d told his brother a million times
not
to message him about their heists. Leave no traces. Indeed relieved the tools their father had given them were working properly, Dejon still wasn’t ready to steal The Iced Sherbet diamond.

When he slid his phone back in his pocket, he withdrew his wallet, turning to a picture of Helen, but not the one he had before. It was the new one her foster parents had sent him last week. This picture made him feel more ready for the night’s mission.

Helen waved at him. Her prosthetic arms fit her as if natural. And her smile, wider than the River Thames in England—Helen was happy. The resale of the Tivian Diamond they’d lifted in Dubai had made this possible. To think, it was that very diamond that had cost Helen her limbs and her family by the rebels.

No longer a mutilated child, it was Helen’s second chance at life. Helen was a special little girl, one who was learning to read and write. Somehow, though, Dejon didn’t think it was enough.
There’s so much more we can do for these victims.