The Pleasure's All Mine (21 page)

“I was only
thinking
putting this in place for a later date,” Pierce retorted after a moment. Eric had truly peeped his game. “I wanted the contracts with Raven in place to produce the movies and do the soundtracks. I wanted to try new acts until I found the right fit for a new label. Businesses take time to create.”

“They take guts,” Eric said with a lift of his chin, “opportunity and preparedness. You’ve got the guts. We might’ve thrust you into the preparedness thing and all, but this, right now, is the prime opportunity.”

Pierce studied Eric for a moment. The kid had heart. And balls. Big ones!

“Tell me I’m wrong,” Eric challenged as he met and held Pierce’s steady gaze.

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be helping me here?” Pierce asked Raven.

“Remember, you told me to stay out of it,” she snapped, biting her bottom lip as she tried to mask her anger.

“That’s when you were trying to cover for Eric—”

“Oh, so it’s only fine when it’s to cover for you?” she shot back.

Eric grinned, looking from Raven to Pierce and back to Raven. “A love spat. I don’t know what I’m going to do with the two of you.”

Pierce took a long breath, and then laughed in spite of himself, noting that Eric, more confident now than before, had moved an inch or so away from his mother. Caught between being a teenager and an adult. What a place to be.

“He’s right, Pierce,” Steve said solemnly. “I’ve noticed a lot since I started working at MEG.
You
were the reason MEG produced hit after hit with top artists. When you left, they barely broke the top one hundred. You are the heart and soul of everything that once was Manhattan Entertainment Group, and truthfully, as long as Simeon continues just using it as a tax write-off for his other companies, it’ll never get back to that status. He just doesn’t care.”

Pierce slipped into the chair across from Raven and Eric. “The kind of projects I’m thinking of taking on will take a lot more than chump change.”

Steve didn’t miss a beat. “I’ll put in what I have.”

“If my mom, my lawyer, and my accountant say it’s okay,” Eric began, “I’ll invest something, too, since I am part of the reason you might lose money on your shares and stuff.”

Pierce guffawed snidely. “Nice try. I have the money, Eric. And we’re not talking just a few thousand here.”

Eric reared back, gaze fixed on Pierce. “Neither am I.”

Pierce looked at Raven and then both stared at Eric.

The young man shrugged. “I can spare about four million or so. Nothing major.”

“Nothing major?” Pierce retorted, with another quick look at Raven, then back at Eric. “I can’t take money from you. But damn, book sales are
that
good?”

“I’ve been published since I was eleven and have a great agent, broker, and an accountant. Some of my novels are with a major publishing house, the others are with an independent publisher, which benefits from all the promotion the major house does. Getting it from both ends really pays off.”

“I need to talk with your publisher and find out his secret.”

“
Her
secret,” Eric corrected.

Raven tensed, her gaze flitting across the room.

Pierce’s eyebrows drew in as he noticed the exchange. “A woman runs Macro?”

“Yep, and you know her, too,” Eric replied, despite the warning grip Raven had placed on his arm.

“I’ve never met—”

Eric grinned, turned to look at his mother, then at Pierce, and winked.

“Raven?”

Eric didn’t answer, but Steve did. “Makes sense. Mainstream author and independent publisher.”

“The woman wears many hats,” Eric said, grinning, despite his mother’s thunderous expression.

Raven’s color had returned full force and her eyes narrowed to slits. “Are you men finished with your little powwow? I need to have a come-to-Jesus meeting with my son.”

Pierce looked at Eric and Raven and kicked himself for not noticing the family resemblance. Same bright eyes, nose, sensuously curved lips. All the signs and hints were there. He recalled snippets of conversation with each of them:
We have the same agent. She inspired me to write my first novel. My son stood me up; he’s taking my lawyer to lunch.
How could he have been so dense?

“That meeting can wait,” Pierce said with a pointed look. Then, affecting a thick Ricky Ricardo Spanish accent, he added, “ ‘Cause Lucy,
you
got some ‘splainin’ to do.”

Hastily, Pierce ended the call with Steve, telling him to keep his cell close by.

“Raven, let’s not start things off by keeping secrets between us,” Pierce said, crossing the distance between them. “All that bull Ava gave me about ‘we can’t commit to anything right now, we have to talk to her publisher’ was just that—bull. You all were playing both sides against the middle.”

“That’s not it,” she protested upon seeing his frown. “Some of my books
are
with a major house, too. But I’m a behind-the-scenes kind of woman. It goes back to my self-published days. I found that if my readers and the media thought someone else was publishing me, I earned a higher level of respect. Thanks to some print-on-demand houses, self-publishing became synonymous with poor quality, so I tried to distance myself from being just another one hitting the bricks. I went to a lot of trouble to make my company imitate the quality and style of major houses. I just haven’t publicly claimed ownership.” Then she tossed an exasperated look at Eric. “No one was supposed to know.”

“I can understand that, but no more secrets, okay?” Pierce took her hand in his.

“Okay.” She moved forward for his kiss, then abruptly turned to face her grinning son, who instantly lost his smile.

Now
their
conversation started with, “Mom, see, what had happened was…” and ended with Raven’s personal threat to do bodily harm if he ever tried to interfere in her love life again.

“But you like him, right?” Eric asked, hopeful.

Damn, she did. And to tell the truth,
like
was too soft a word. She practically wanted to inhale the man.

“Mom?”

She bit the inside of her cheek and simply nodded.

“So you can’t be too mad at me, right?” Then he gave her an unapologetic, end-justifies-the-means grin and simply said, “I love you, Mom.”

Aw hell! Now why did he have to say that?

Pierce’s frown lifted into a wry smile as Raven melted with those four simple words. Then he checked his watch. “We have to get a move on.

Eric rose from the sofa. “But you have to sign these.”

“Not before I read them.” Pierce plucked the folders from Eric’s thin fingers.

“But Aunt Avie said––”

Raven gripped his shoulder and spun him around. “What? You got Ava involved in this, too?”

Eric dipped his head. “Well…um…Steve said, um…see, what had happened was—”

“Don’t pull that crap with me, mister!”

“Well
Steve
called her, I didn’t.” Eric’s eyes implored her to understand, then turned to Pierce to appeal to him instead. “After I overheard Simeon and Vlad, Steve called Ava to help pull this together before they could get a leg up and step all over you.”

Eric waited, hoping that Pierce would back his actions. He had done the right thing
, right?
“Ava had your back just like she has my mom’s––and mine.”

Pierce’s only comment was, “Come on, let’s go.”

“But the––”

“We’ll take them with us.” Pierce snatched up the folders. “Come on.”

Raven shook her head as she tried to keep up with him. “How are you going to read those while we’re at the luau?”

“It’s called multi-tasking, Ms. Publisher, Author, Mother––”

“All right, all right, I get it,” she said, waving him off, still miffed that Eric had revealed her self-publishing secret—and along with that, a bit of Ava’s negotiating power.

“And you,” Pierce pointed to Eric, who had now splayed out on the sofa for a nap, “are coming with us.”

“But I’m not dressed for the occasion.” The brown suit and slightly wrinkled white shirt did look a little worse for wear.

“When has that ever stopped you?” Pierce asked as he ushered Eric out. “I want to know every single thing you and that blond-haired minion did while I was gone.”

Eric gulped as Pierce ushered them out the door.

Twenty-One

The show started almost as soon as they’d filled their plates with grilled chicken, roasted vegetables, and island rice. Pierce had added teriyaki beef to his plate. Raven and Eric had stayed clear of the roast pork––possibly because its unfortunate relatives were still turning over the fire four feet away.

First the sounds of the drums filtered from the stage, which had been designed to resemble a grass hut, then women shimmied in from both sides, working the grass skirts in a way that made Raven sure they were double-jointed at the waists—if that were possible. Arms waved, hands curled and expressed the words and sentiment of the song. Then they beckoned for the women in the audience to come on stage.

Raven didn’t move.

“Mom, go on up and learn the hula.”

“No, sweetie. I don’t think they’re ready for all of this,” she said, patting her full hips.

“Aw, honey, go on up there and show them how it’s really done,” Pierce crooned as he and Eric shooed her toward the stage.

The tiny woman leading the dance pulled a reluctant Raven to the front.

Eric and Pierce cheered as Raven gave them the evil eye.

After a brief lesson, Raven worked those hips like a champ––causing a few men from the audience to receive warning taps or looks from their mates.

“Pierce,” Eric called out.

“Umm-hmm.”

“Pierce!”

He turned to Eric.

“Stop drooling.”

“I’m not drooling…I’m…” He turned back just in time to see Raven twirl and dip.

“Drooling,” Eric supplied with a hearty chuckle. Then his expression changed, his voice became low. “Do you realize that you’re the first man she’s dated since my dad?”

Pierce turned back to him; the serious tone chilled him. “And you’re telling me that because…?”

“I want to make sure you treat her right. That you consider her for life.”

“Trust me; I have no intention of losing Raven again.”

“And don’t let her stubbornness get to you, either.”

Pierce tried to hold back a smirk as his gaze latched onto Raven’s hips again. Damn, the woman was sexy. “I’ll try.”

“And make sure…you know…you um…you know…”

“No, I don’t know,” Pierce replied, without looking at Eric.

Eric swallowed hard. “Come on, Pierce, you know what I’m talking about.”

“Haven’t a clue.”

Eric followed Pierce’s gaze to the base of the stage where a group of men had gathered to watch a hip-shaking Raven work it like a video vixen.

“You know, the
condom
thing.”

Pierce’s head whipped around. “Condom? What’s that?” Pierce blinked innocently, biting his lip to keep from laughing at Eric’s horrified expression.

Eric stammered, “You…I mean…you don’t?…how?…” He looked genuinely perplexed.

“I’m jokin’, Eric.”

Eric didn’t bother to hide his relief.

When the dance ended, Raven scooped up the flowers around her feet and made her way back to the table.

“Pierce, I’m trusting you with my mother’s heart. Don’t break it. The fact that she’s here with you says a lot. I don’t want to worry about her—”

“You’ll
always
be worried,” Pierce countered. “It’s what you do best.”

“I’d rather you did my worrying for me.”

Pierce scanned the area, taking in the appreciative looks men threw Raven’s way. “I don’t think that’ll be much of a problem.” Pierce shot out of his seat to escort Raven back to the table before putting an arm possessively around her waist. “No more hula for you, Miss Armand.”

“Hey, you started it,” she said, winking over her shoulder playfully at her admirers.

“Don’t remind me.” He glowered at another bold man who dared to brazenly stare at Raven, even though it was obvious that she was with Pierce.

When they both arrived at the table, Eric’s eyes were moist with happiness as he said, “I’m not worried anymore.”

Raven looked from Eric to Pierce. “Worried? About what?”

Eric winked at Pierce. Pierce winked back. “Never you mind.”

Raven looked suspiciously from her son to Pierce and back as Pierce pulled out her chair. “Hmph!”

Eric was called on stage to assist a comedian with his attempts to open a coconut. The results and the banter between them was nothing short of hilarious.

“Do you see why you need to let him go at his own pace now?” Pierce whispered to Raven. “He knows when to have fun and when to take care of business.”

Eric was intercepted by five young girls, who pulled him away to their table. He waved at his mother and Pierce.

“And now do you see why I’m so worried about untimely little Ericas and Eric Juniors popping up all over the place?”

“Can’t happen unless he gives up the goods,” Pierce answered as he waved back.

“Sometimes a dick doesn’t have that type of conscience.”

“Not necessarily untrue, but I’ll concede that if it were true for mine, I wouldn’t be sitting here reading these papers.” His voice lowered to a husky whisper as he continued, “And we wouldn’t be sitting here having this conversation.” He kissed her ear lobe. “We’d be at home,”—he kissed her neck—”fulfilling every imaginable fantasy.”

❤ ❤ ❤

When the three of them arrived at the private wing of the airport, Eric turned to Raven. “Mom, please don’t be mad.”

Raven just looked at him and pursed her lips.

“The bible says ‘Let not the sun go down on your anger,’ “ he said with a toothy grin.