“Hell no.”
DeAndra Rice closed her eyes in response to her cousin’s adamant refusal. Of course she knew better than to argue. “Just tell me you’re on your way,” she said instead.
“I’m fifteen minutes away,” Alexander Rice assured the woman and clicked off his cell phone before she could utter another word.
A fierce scowl marred Alex’s light caramel-toned face as he tossed the phone to the floor of the passenger side of his Navigator. For the fifth time that day, he found himself asking how he had allowed De to talk him into attending one of her uptight social get-togethers. Then, as if on cue, De’s high-pitched nasal voice filled his ears: As a respected newspaper publisher, you should be introduced to the people who will be welcoming you into their circle.
Alex knew that was a “circle” he didn’t care to become involved with. Still, he did realize that his attendance would be in the best interest of his paper. Besides, his managing editor and president, Clifton Knowles, would be out of commission until he recovered from a recent ski injury. Alex felt the smile tugging at his mouth as he anticipated the jokes Cliff would have to endure regarding black folks and skiing. Cliff would be the man in charge eventually, but tonight that job would fall to Alex. Though the paper was his brainchild, he chose to remain as far from the spotlight as possible.
“Come on, Zan. You’re gonna be uptight enough once you get there,” Alex told himself, deciding to push the aggravations from his mind. He hit the Play button of the CD changer and set his head back against the padded rest. The thriving combination of spoken words over rhythms filled the car as the sounds of MOP spilled from the high-tech speakers.
Again, Alex smiled as he imagined what his society-ensconced cousin would say about his musical tastes. DeAndra Rice would never believe one could actually enjoy the rawest hip-hop and possess a love of the classical genre as well. Alex, however, took great pride in his interests. He thought of how far he had come during the last three years. His newspaper had been little more than a neighborhood newsletter then. Now the small Charlotte-based paper had grown into a must-read piece of literature.
The Queen City Happening drew readers from all ethnic and social backgrounds. It covered the latest shows and concerts—for all musical tastes. There was coverage of local news pertinent to the arts and business crowds. The publication had most recently garnered several awards and had received a slew of recognition. This all made its thirty-two-year-old owner as pleased as he was successful. Unfortunately, success carried its own share of unwanted elements. Snobs, gold diggers, and an overabundance of advice givers seemed to appear out of nowhere and gave Alex more reason to relish social hermitage.
Alex’s extraordinary turquoise gaze suddenly narrowed behind the black sunglasses he sported, and he lowered the volume of the music. In the distance, a classic white Corvette sat along the side of the road. The captivating craftsmanship of the Anniversary Edition model beckoned more than a passing glance.
Alex was taken in only by the sensual appeal of the car. When he noticed its driver, he forgot about the sleek vehicle.
“My God,” he whispered and pulled his black SUV to the shoulder of the road several feet ahead of the sports car. He shut down the engine and watched an incredible-looking woman leave the car. A moment later he exited the SUV.
Alex strolled closer to the distressed vehicle, taking note of the woman’s provocative attire. The white evening gown teased the senses despite the fact that it reached her ankles. The hem flared about a pair of stylish, square, open-toed white wedge heels. The dress itself was a sleeveless number with straps that tied upon her shoulders and dipped low in the back. The bodice was secured by a row of strappy ties that offered fleeting glimpses of a full pair of firm breasts, flat tummy, and toned thighs and legs.
For a while, the intensely handsome, no-nonsense publishing entrepreneur was in awe. The piece of eye candy brought his male hormones to life like nothing he’d known. Still, Alex forced himself to shake off the pleasurable sensations before he approached her.
“Excuse me?” he called to her in a rough, yet seductively soft tone. He cleared his throat to quell the surge of arousal still coursing through his body. “Do you need any help here?” he managed to ask.
Topaz Emerson had just raised the hood of the sports car when she heard the man’s voice. She turned, just as wind stirred the dust, which flew up around her like an entrancing mist. The rush of air lifted the long spiral curls that dangled from the classy chignon she wore. The man she found standing a few feet behind her rendered her speechless for several seconds. Her own devastating amber stare narrowed as she studied his shocking blue-green gaze.
“Oh no—no, thank you,” she finally found her voice. “I, um, I have it under control.”
Alex smiled at the clear, almost regal tone of her voice. His eyes raked her svelte, voluptuous body once again, before he nodded toward the car. “Looks like it’s overheated,” he noted.
A grimace flashed on Topaz’s lovely chocolate-toned face and she looked back at the engine. “Not quite, but if I don’t get water in it soon, it will be.”
“Well, I know a pretty decent mechanic. He’s looked at my car a few times and I think he’s a pretty good guy,” Alex explained, hoping he wasn’t coming across as condescending. “I don’t think he’ll jerk you around on the price or anything,” he added.
Topaz chuckled, loving the sweet soft way he spoke to her. “I’m very thankful,” she whispered, taking a couple of steps closer to him. “It’s just that I know a shop that I trust with my life.”
Alex’s heavy, sleek black brows rose as he tilted his head. “Trust with your life, hmm? Maybe I should switch.”
Topaz’s shoulder rose slowly. “Well, I’m always in the market for new business.”
Alex folded his arms across the front of the cream shirt that molded to his chest and back. “You ... are?” he inquired, obviously confused.
Topaz wouldn’t allow him to see her amusement. “What I really need is a new water pump. I’m such a procrastinator. I haven’t gotten around to putting it in my shop,” she explained.
Alex, however, was still confused and tried to grasp her meaning. He watched her go to the trunk and return to the hood with a jug of water.
“Your shop?” he probed.
Topaz propped the jug against the mouth of the water tank and went back to the driver’s side of the car. She handed Alex a gray business card when she returned.
TOP E TOWING AND MECHANICAL, it read. “Yours?” he asked.
“Mmm-hmm,” she sweetly confirmed, emptying the jug and taking it back to the trunk. She was about to put the hood down when Alex stepped before the car and performed the task. Topaz felt her her eyes widen at the breadth of his torso and arms. “Thank you,” she whispered when he was done.
“No problem, Miss?”
“Emerson. Topaz Emerson.”
“Topaz,” Alex repeated, smirking a bit as he thought how well the name suited her. There was something ... a dazzling quality, shimmering almost, he didn’t know. Whatever it was, it held him captivated.
Topaz blinked as the startling effect of the gorgeous stranger’s eyes entranced her once more. Whoever he was, he was quite remarkable to look at. She would wager he stood almost seven feet tall, and he had a lean, chiseled frame that could rival the most fit basketball player’s. Curly black hair was cropped into a close cut that flattered his very handsome, slightly angular, caramel-toned face, complete with a cleft in the center of his chin. Still, it was the unsettling quality of his deep-set turquoise stare that she could not shake.
“Well, I, um, I better get going,” she told him when she shook herself from the spell his looks had drawn her into. “I’m already late.”
“Yeah, so am I,” Alex replied, though he made no effort to move. Instead, he watched Topaz walk back to the driver’s side of her car. He couldn’t help but admire her graceful stride and the manner in which her hands trailed the car; much like the manner a model would use as she displayed a prize. He tilted his head up in response when she wiggled her fingers toward him to say good-bye.
The car roared to life then and she zoomed away amid a flurry of dust. When the vehicle disappeared down the long back road, Alex studied the card he held.
Topaz angled the Corvette into an empty space far away from the majestic brick house, which seemed to span the distance of the entire block.
“Thank you,” she whispered, pleased that she would be able to make a quick escape should the high-profile get-together become too much for her to handle.
“How’d I get talked into this thing?” she asked, once she was standing outside the car and gazing upon the stately house.
