Summer Vows (Arabesque) (2 page)

Chapter 1

Los Angeles, California

C
amille Nelson felt a shiver of fear snake
its way up her spine when a shadow fell across her desk. She was well aware of
the company rule for not eating, reading anything not related to Slow Wyne
Records, and other infractions like styling hair, repairing makeup or gum
chewing while at her desk. Personal telephone calls were relegated to lunch
hours, and only when not seated at the desk. She’d heard that an accounting
clerk had been placed on probation for talking to her mother when she’d called
to check on her sick preschooler during a staff meeting.

Her head popped up and she forced a smile when she saw her boss
glaring down at her. “Good morning, Mr. Irvine.”

A frown marred the forehead of the CEO of Slow Wyne Records
when he saw the magazine spread out on his executive assistant’s desk. Earlier
that morning he’d read and reread every word of the
Rolling
Stone
magazine article on Justin Glover and he had to admit the
reporter had hit the mark when he declared the young singing sensation was the
second coming of the late King of Pop Michael Jackson.

“Put that away and come with me,” he barked at Camille. “And
bring your tools.” Basil Irvine strode toward the carved double doors leading to
his office, expecting her to follow him like an obedient child.

Camille gathered her steno pad and three pencils. Although her
boss was only forty-three, he still hadn’t come into the twenty-first century
where executive assistants no longer took dictation, but transcribed their
boss’s notes from tape recorders. She didn’t question her boss, because she
needed the job. After a contentious and costly divorce Camille couldn’t afford
to do anything wherein she would lose her position at Slow Wyne Records. Even
sleeping with Basil Irvine wasn’t a guarantee that he wouldn’t eventually give
her a pink slip. She wasn’t the first woman at the company to sleep with Basil,
and she knew she wouldn’t be the last.

She sat at the round table in an alcove of an office that was
larger than her studio apartment, while Basil folded his stocky body down into a
leather executive chair. Sunlight poured into the wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling
windows behind him, reflecting off his shaved gold-brown freckled pate.

“I want you to send a letter to Ana Cole, CEO of Serenity
Records. It’s in Boca Raton, Florida.” He waited for Camille to jot down her
shorthand symbols. “Dear Ms. Cole. Everyone at Slow Wyne would like to
congratulate Serenity Records for the successful launch of Justin Glover’s first
album. Mr. Glover’s musical talent and success impacts the entire industry, and
I’m certain it will usher in a new era with a fusion of musical genres.” He
paused, his gray eyes narrowing. “Use my usual closing.” Unlocking a drawer,
Basil handed her a flash drive when she approached his desk. “And Camille,” he
added when she turned to leave, “don’t forget office rules apply to you,
too.”

Smiling, she nodded. “Yes, Mr. Irvine. It won’t happen
again.”

Leaning back in his chair, Basil glared at her. “I know it
won’t—that is if you want to continue to work here.”

Camille nodded as she walked out of the opulent office, softly
closing the door behind her. What her boss didn’t know was that she would’ve
handed in her resignation a week after he’d hired her if she didn’t need the
money. Working for and sleeping with a record executive was a lot better than
swinging around a pole in a gentlemen’s club, where she’d had to put up with men
pawing her just because they’d slipped her a few dollars. And when she’d finally
made it to the champagne room where she had to give lap dances, she found
herself more times than not holding her breath for fear she’d lose the contents
of her stomach from their alcohol-soured breaths. Basil had become her temporary
savior and her loyalty to him was limitless.

She didn’t know about the other women who’d slept with Basil
Irvine, but he’d disclosed things to her that she could use to bring down the
man who ran his company like a maximum-security prison. He’d become the warden
and his employees were the inmates.

She also knew his letter to Serenity Records was a ruse for a
trap he had yet to spring. Basil’s ego was as large as the Pacific Ocean and the
one thing he refused to accept was failure. He’d failed to sign Justin to Slow
Wyne, and had sworn he would make Serenity Records pay for what he deemed an act
of betrayal. Basil had been the first to hear Justin’s demo record, but after
Slow Wyne offered the young twenty-year-old a deal that had him indebted to the
company for the first two years of his contract, Justin’s agent went to
Serenity. Basil knew he needed to change the terms of the contract or he would
lose Justin. Then it had become a bidding war with Serenity as the winner even
though their last bid was lower than Slow Wyne’s. Basil had sworn he would make
the singer and Ana Cole pay for their deception.

Camille could care less about an East Coast–West Coast hip-hop
rivalry reminiscent of the 1990s hostility between Death Row and Bad Boys
Records. She was being paid a salary that exceeded her qualifications when she’d
first come to work for the company. However, she’d made good use of the steady
paycheck. She rented a small apartment in an up-and-coming neighborhood and had
enrolled in a secretarial school where she’d taken the courses needed to become
an efficient executive assistant.

She took care of Basil’s needs in and out of the boardroom. In
the throes of passion he’d admitted she was the best “lay” he’d ever had.
Camille didn’t mind the epithet, because she’d been called worse. She’d planned
to use everything in her feminine arsenal to get whatever she needed from Basil
before his reign of terror came to an abrupt end. And she knew it would end.
She’d started hustling at an early age, and now at twenty-six she knew it was
just a matter of time before her face and body would fail to attract men who
were willing to trade money for sex.

Sitting at the desk outside her boss’s office, she inserted the
flash drive into a port and began transcribing the letter. After saving what
she’d typed and printing it out, Camille returned the drive to a locked drawer
in her desk. At the end of the workday she returned the flash drive to Basil,
who locked it in his desk. There were documents on the drive that could
incriminate the executives of Slow Wyne and could send them to jail for either
life or for very lengthy sentences. She could care less about the inner workings
of the record company. She was just an employee following orders.

Camille read and reread what she’d typed, tapped slightly on
Basil’s door and walked into his office when he told her to enter. She left the
letter and envelope in his inbox and turned to leave.

“I’ll see you later tonight.” It wasn’t a request, but a
command.

She nodded, smiling. It was her birthday and Camille had hinted
to Basil there was a bracelet in a Beverly Hills jewelry store she wanted. If he
didn’t get her the bracelet, then she was certain he would give her something
comparable.

Boca Raton, Florida

Ana Cole sat across the table for two in her favorite Boca
Raton restaurant, smiling at her cousin. She usually interacted with Tyler Cole
twice a year—at Thanksgiving and the week between Christmas Eve and New Year’s
Day, but that was never enough for her. Of all of her many male cousins, Tyler
was her favorite. He was like an older brother and father-figure rolled into
one. And it wasn’t that she wasn’t able to talk to her father, but Tyler was
usually more objective than David Cole—especially when it came to her
relationships.

The first time she’d fallen in love and confessed to her father
that her boyfriend had cheated on her, David Cole’s response was that he would
hunt him down and break his legs. Then it was her brother Gabriel who’d
insinuated himself into her love life, monitoring and intimidating the men whose
lifestyles were diametrically opposed to the way they were raised. Years later,
after her first and only serious relationship ended, Ana lied to her father for
the first time in her life. The man with whom she believed was her soul mate had
also cheated on her. This time she confided in Tyler, who told her to regard
every man who showed an interest in her as a potential husband. If she couldn’t
see herself spending the next fifty years with him, then she should not go
beyond a third date. Ana had taken his advice and now at thirty-three she felt
secure in her career
and
her personal life.

Her dimpled smile matched Tyler’s. “How’s the family?”

Picking up the napkin at his place setting, Tyler spread it
over his lap. “They’re wonderful. The boys are growing like weeds and Astra is
the indisputable boss of the house.”

Ana speared a forkful of the Cesar salad with grilled shrimp.
“Don’t you want another daughter, Tyler?”

Tyler’s dark eyes met a pair in amber with gold glints. Ana
reminded him of a delicate raven-haired doll. Her short hair was always coiffed,
her olive-brown skin flawless and her delicate features, dimpled smile and
petite figure had most men giving her a second glance.

“Are you certain you’re not clairvoyant?”

Ana’s fork paused in midair. “No. Am I missing something
primo?
”

“Dana’s pregnant, and this time it’s a girl.”

A tiny shriek slipped past her lips and Ana glanced around the
crowded restaurant to see if anyone had heard her. It appeared as if the other
diners were too engrossed in their food or their dining companions. “That’s
incredible news! When is she due?”

“Mid-September.”

She did the mental calculation. Her cousin’s wife was five
months pregnant, and this was her first time hearing about it. “Is Dana all
right?” she asked.

Tyler expressive black eyebrows lifted a fraction. “She’s good.
We decided not to say anything until all tests indicated the baby is normal.” He
smiled. “I called my mom and dad earlier this morning to give them the good
news.”

Leaning back in her chair, Ana stared at Tyler. Like so many
men in her family, he had begun graying in his thirties. The brilliant ob-gyn
was now in his late forties and was to become a father for the fourth time. He’d
named his first son after his father and the second one after his paternal
grandfather, while he and Dana adopted their daughter after the infant’s
orphaned mother died in childbirth. Now Astra was about to become a big
sister.

“I know you’re here for a conference, but do you think you’ll
have time to go up to West Palm to see your folks?”

Tyler took a sip of sparkling water. “They’re driving down
tonight. I’m scheduled to chair one panel and sit on one, both on the same day.
I’m not flying back to Mississippi until Friday. I told Dana I was going to stay
an extra day to reconnect with my sister, but when I called Arianna her
housekeeper said she, Silah and their kids had just left for Paris.”

The Kadirs lived in Fort Lauderdale when their children were in
school and in their fashion designer father’s native Morocco during the summer
months. The Kadir children spoke English, Spanish and French. Tyler shook his
head. “My sisters are gypsies,” he continued. “The only time I get to see
Arianna is during Thanksgiving and the week of Christmas.”

Reaching across the table, Ana placed her hand on Tyler’s.
“You’re turning into your father, complaining that he doesn’t see his children
or grandchildren enough.”

“Wait until you have children, Ana, and then you’ll realize
what it is to have your children spread out all over the world. My kids are
still young, but I miss my sisters. Regina lives in Brazil, but she only comes
to the States once or twice a year. Arianna divides her time between Florida and
North Africa or Europe. At least your father has his children and grandchildren
within a couple of hours of a car or plane ride.” He reversed their hands.
“Enough talk about the family. What about you? How are you doing?”

A smile parted Ana’s lips. “Life is good for Serenity Records.
Justin Glover—aka O’Quan Gee’s debut album is number one on the Billboard
chart.”

Tyler angled his head and laughed, attractive lines fanning out
around his large eyes. Anyone looking at him and Ana would’ve taken them for
brother and sister. The first cousins had inherited their paternal grandmother’s
olive coloring, delicate features and dimpled smile.

“I wasn’t talking about rappers and hip-hop artists, Ana. I’m
talking about you. Are you seeing anyone?”

She averted her gaze. “Not right now.” Her eyes met and fused
with Tyler’s. “To tell you the truth it has been a while since I’ve been
involved with a man. I have male friends I can call if I don’t want to go a
social function by myself, but most times I attend the award ceremonies with
Jason.”

“You can’t marry your brother, Ana.”

She laughed quietly. “I know that, Tyler, but he’s the only
man, other than those in my family, that I can trust.” Without warning, Ana
sobered. “Can you answer one question for me?”

“What’s that?”

“Why do men cheat?”

The seconds ticked as Tyler stared at something over Ana’s
shoulder. “I can’t answer that because I’ve never cheated on Dana.”

“How about your girlfriends before you married her?”

His gaze swung back to her. “I’d never cheated on them, either.
Even if I’d wanted to I could never forget what
Abuela
went through with grandpa when she’d discovered he had
fathered an illegitimate child.”

“Uncle Josh is as much a part of our family as your dad or
mine,” Ana argued softly.

“I’m not saying he isn’t, Ana. It shouldn’t have taken more
than thirty years for everyone to accept him as a Cole even though his last name
was Kirkland.”

She exhaled an audible sigh. “Our grandfather cheated on our
grandmother, and I can’t seem to find a man who doesn’t think there’s anything
wrong with sleeping with more than one woman at the same time. It’s the same
with celebrities. They date one woman and father a child, then move on to the
next without a pang of conscience that they’ve become a serial baby daddy.”