An Unexpected Attraction (Love Unexpected Book 3) (4 page)

“Afraid so,” he said with the appropriate amount of gravity in his voice. “And that completes today’s lesson in
italiano
.”

She giggled, a lighter sound this time that still generated tiny tremors on his skin.

“But you’re right, they do have really good cannoli here,” Jay confessed.

“Uh-huh, I knew it!” She wagged a finger at him. “I know your M.O., too, mister. You’re craving comfort food and came to where you knew you’d get it. You really need to learn self-control.”

She looked mighty pleased with herself that she’d called him out. Eyes bright, full lips curved up. He had brought that animated expression to her face.

“I don’t seem to have any self-control when it comes to certain things,” he said in a low voice.

The words had slipped out. In response, her smile dimmed with uncertainty for a nanosecond.

The line moved forward and they moved with it.

Jay scanned the menu board. Different colored chalk scrawled across the blackboard announced a fifty-percent off sale on focaccia bread. He’d buy a couple of loaves and place one in the freezer for later.

“Did you finally unpack?” he asked.

The day of Charlie’s funeral, Brenda had confessed that after a year, she still had unpacked boxes lying around.

“Finally. Charlie’s death made me think about all the things I’d left undone that needed to be completed. No more putting off until tomorrow what could be done today.”

He’d had similar thoughts. Charlie had postponed marrying his high school sweetheart for years, too focused on his job and the projects he’d worked on. Only when she’d threatened to finally leave him did he give in to the pressure of setting a date. They’d planned to have a civil ceremony at the courthouse, but all too soon he was gone.

Brenda turned halfway toward him. “How about you? How’s the house coming?”

“They estimate it’ll be completed by the fall.”

Having lived close to the city for years, Jay had decided to build a five-bedroom home with a full basement in Alpharetta, close to good schools and right in the middle of suburban life. The move had been precipitated by the fact that his boys were moving from Bradenton, Florida to live with him in Atlanta next year. They’d be at the age when he felt they needed more of a male influence as they grew into young men. He couldn’t wait to play a more active role in their lives.

“My office is in Alpharetta,” Brenda said.

“Right off the parkway, right?”

She nodded. “I’m so happy for you. So it’ll be you and the boys in a bachelor pad, huh? Watch out, Atlanta.”

He chuckled. “It won’t be that bad.”

To be honest, he hadn’t thought the move would ever happen. When he’d first broached the topic to Jenna a few years ago, she’d expressed reservations. Eventually she’d come around to his way of thinking, but in typical fashion, she’d backpedaled when he’d walked her out to the car at the Italian restaurant. She’d claimed she couldn’t let her “babies” go. An argument had ensued, but Jay had been adamant the boys were coming to live with him. They were excited, he was excited. End of story.

“Once the house is completed, I promised they could pick their own bedroom colors and decorate any way they want—within reason, of course.”

“Of course. There always has to be a caveat when you make an offer to kids.”

“Always.” The line moved again and they shuffled forward. “So what meeting do you have this afternoon?”

“I’m on the board of the Fulton County Performing Arts & Community Center. We have a big fundraiser coming up in the fall, and there’s a board meeting tonight. Pray for me that I don’t strangle anyone.”

“I promise to say three Hail Marys.” He did the sign of the cross.

“Thank you,” Brenda said, with exaggerated gratitude. She swept hair higher on her forehead, and he had a vague recollection of filtering the soft strands through his fingers. “I’m tired of hearing excuses for why the other committee members haven’t done their part. I’ve done mine. Through my media contacts I’m able to get the word out, using bloggers and other channels, but my other task is to secure the celebrity appearances. Tyler Perry has already committed and even offered a five-figure donation. God bless him. The man is generous to a fault. The MC has a popular morning show, and I’m waiting to hear from an Academy Award winning actress—who shall remain nameless because I don’t want to jinx it.”

The line moved forward and they edged forward, too.

Jay thought for a moment. An idea formulated in his head. “You need anyone else? I signed a new client today and this fundraiser sounds like the kind of thing he’s expressed interest in doing to revamp his image.”

Her brow furrowed with tiny little creases. “Who did you have in mind?”

“Have you heard of DJ Terror?”

“The rapper? Of course.” He had her attention. “But I thought you only worked with businesses.”

“DJ Terror—or rather, Vince Combes—is a business,” Jay explained. “During his years as a rap artist he invested well and if he never wanted to work again now that he’s retired, he doesn’t have to. His empire includes stakes in real estate and restaurants, and he’s a silent partner in a number of other ventures. But he’s still young—only thirty-five—and wants to stay busy. He’s worked on his paintings—”

“Did you say
paintings
?”

The incredulous expression on her face made him laugh. “Yes. He’s painted abstracts for years but is only now willing to share his art with the world. He works in oils and plans to unveil his best pieces in a small exhibition this summer. He’ll do at least one performance painting at the venue, which means while he paints, music plays and influences the design of the final product. Interested?”

“Absolutely. It would be great for us to get someone so well known. Even better if he’d do a performance painting at the center.” Her eyes lit up with the possibilities. “You know, we could do a couple of features on him for the magazine, leading up to the event. It could help establish his new image. What do you think?”

“I think it’s a great idea. I’ll talk to the head of my creative services department and get back to you.”

Free publicity was better than any ad Omega Advertising could purchase. Creative services would jump at the chance to do the features. The team just had to decide on the best strategy for incorporating them into the overall plan.

“Excellent.” She rubbed her hands together and turned back around. Knowing Brenda, her mind was probably spinning angles for the articles already.

His eyes settled on her exposed neck, and he had a sudden urge to touch her skin, to hear her softly inhale as he traced a hand down her spine. His gaze continued a downward slide over her shoulders and the silver cowl-neck blouse that hugged her body without being too revealing. Lower still, he took stock of the black, wide-legged pants and stopped. His body tensed, and he tore his eyes away from her hips and ass before the vulgar thoughts that had flashed through his mind took such control they manifested outwardly and he embarrassed himself in the line.

When he’d calmed down enough to speak again, he said, “You know how we were talking about getting together more often? You and Sophie should come to game night at my house. It’s a lot of fun. Adult fun.”

“Oh?” She sounded interested, but as she dug in her purse, he only saw her profile and couldn’t tell if she really was or not. “When’s the next one?”

“In a couple of weeks.”

She raised her eyes to his. “Do we have to bring anything?”

“Only if you want to, but I have plenty of food and beverages, so it’s not necessary.”

She pulled out her wallet while he waited for a response. What was going through that head of hers?

“So what do you think?” he pressed. “Do you think you’ll come?”

“I might be able to swing that,” she said over her shoulder.

“Next!” The cashier’s sharp cry broke into their conversation. No one else stood in front of Brenda, and they’d both been distracted enough to hold up the line.

She hurried forward and made her purchase. Afterward, she waited for him near the door, out of the flow of traffic. Once he had his box of cannoli, Jay joined her and they strolled out to the parking lot. As they walked, he gave her the details of game night, including the time and his address, since she’d never been to his house.

They ended their walk at her gold Jetta.

“So you’re definitely coming?” he asked.

“Yes, Jay, I’ll be there.” She rolled her eyes. “With bells on. Happy?”

“Definitely wear the bells.”

He winked at her and she gave him one of her Brenda grins—one that lit up her face and made him wish their situation was different. That there wasn’t the occasional awkwardness between them and he could, without hesitation or second thought, pull her into his arms and not feel her stiffen.

He waited until her car started before he walked away toward his vehicle. As she cruised by, she honked and waved.

Jay waved back and was at his car, staring at his smiling face reflected in the driver side window, when he realized he’d actually been smiling almost the entire time he talked to Brenda. Nothing unusual about that at all. Her presence always brightened his day.

****

Brenda had wanted to decline Jay’s invitation. For the most part she’d managed to steer clear of him since she moved back to Atlanta, but a visit to his house wouldn’t be unpleasant if Sophie was there, and she did want to meet new people. She needed to get out more. Most of the past six months had been spent working hard at
The Entertainment Report
, so most every new person she met was in the entertainment industry. She could slow down now, and game night sounded like fun.

She was at the light and turning out of the parking lot when she caught her reflection in the rear view mirror. Her eyes were bright and she grinned like a fool, a complete one-eighty from her less than enthusiastic attitude about the board meeting tonight.

All because of Jay. He’d brightened her day.

Chapter
Four

Sophie bailed on Brenda at the last minute. So last minute, in fact, Brenda was already en route to Jay’s house when her friend called.

“I’m really sorry, but Keith wants me to go to this concert with him, and I’d feel terrible if I don’t go and he spent all that money on a ticket.”

“It’s not your fault. He waited until the last minute to tell you.” After the person he really wanted to take had canceled, no doubt.

But Brenda kept that comment to herself. No point in wasting her breath on another anti-Keith tirade. Sophie never listened. Brenda sometimes wondered if Keith had cast a spell on her friend. Her judgment where he was concerned could be considered questionable at best.

Brenda parked on the street and took a deep breath. She exited the car, holding a box of miniature cupcakes. Instead of a swanky bachelor pad in the middle of the city, Jay lived in a four-bedroom, three bath craftsman in Grant Park, one of the oldest neighborhoods in the Atlanta area. This location made sense considering its proximity to the Omega Advertising offices in the city, and that the neighborhood was family-friendly—perfect for when his sons visited.

From the street, she saw people milling around inside, and music and conversation spilled from the open windows. After climbing the stairs from street level, Brenda walked across the lawn and up the front steps of the porch. She lifted her hand to knock on the door, but it swung in and a woman with curly raven hair stood in the doorway. Her scarlet top and tan slacks made Brenda feel underdressed in plaid capri pants and a black cotton shirt.

“Hello and welcome,” the brunette said. Her voice was surprisingly loud and she spoke with flawless diction. “I’m Dr. Helen Stafford.” She presented her hand.

The formal introduction took Brenda by surprise, but she quickly recovered and extended her hand and a smile to the other woman. If she had a Ph.D., she might be inclined to tell everyone, too.

“Brenda Morrison.”

After two solid pumps, the handshake was over.

“Jay is in the kitchen uncorking more wine,” Helen said. She took the box of cupcakes. The room they entered was long and wide, taking up the entire front of the house. Large, comfy-looking furniture filled the room. “Let me introduce you to everyone.” She turned to the room and yelled, “Everyone, this is Brenda Morrison. Make her feel welcome.”

The fifteen or so men and women turned in their direction and said in unison, “Hi, Brenda!” Several of them waved.

She laughed and waved back, instantly glad she had come.

Helen guided her toward the kitchen, past the four people seated near the unlit fireplace who were slowly, meticulously, building a tower with Jenga blocks. A good-looking black man, standing and eating with another man who looked Hispanic, followed her with his eyes and gave a head nod as she walked by. Two other men sat in leather chairs in a corner, gesticulating wildly. She heard snatches of their conversation. They were debating the new gun law that had recently passed in the state legislature. Other people were scattered around the large room, including four seated on folding chairs at a collapsible table playing Uno.

Brenda entered the kitchen behind Helen, and not surprisingly, it was a flashy showpiece with cherry wood cabinets and stainless steel appliances. She didn’t expect anything less than the best from Jay. Warming trays filled with delicious-smelling food sat on the granite countertops. He stood with his back to them, pouring a bottle of red wine into a glass decanter to breathe.

“Another guest has arrived,” Helen announced.

Jay lifted his gaze when she came into his line of vision. He smiled, his grey eyes filled with genuine pleasure that she had come, and a tingle of awareness manifested in Brenda’s midsection.

He looked relaxed and comfortable in black jeans that fit but weren’t tight, and offered a hint at the muscular thighs underneath. A black long-sleeved Henley grasped his firm torso and pulled a little around the biceps. His curly hair, lush and glossy under the overhead lights, dipped onto his forehead and presented an attractive contrast against his creamy, olive-toned skin.