Seduced by Mr. Right (6 page)

“I think you're being modest.”

“A lot of people had a hand in my professional accomplishments. I had an awesome run and incredible success, but none of it would have happened without the support of my family, my sponsors and my loyal, hardworking pit crew...”

Having coached high-profile clients with monster-size egos before, Sharleen was surprised by Emilio's humility. He wasn't trying to impress her or putting on airs; he was speaking from the heart, and it was obvious he meant every word he said.

“I dream about returning to the sport almost every day,” he confessed. “I miss the competition, traveling to exotic locales and most importantly—”

“The groupies at every pit stop?”

Sharleen regretted the words the moment they left her mouth. His furrowed eyebrows and clenched jaw told her he was put off by her joke. “I'm sorry,” she said, smiling apologetically. “I didn't mean to interrupt you. Please continue.”

“I miss my crew. Those guys are my brothers, and I think about them all the time.”

“You should give them a call.”

“I can't. After my nephew died, I pushed them away...” Emilio sighed then shrugged. “I want to reach out, but I don't know what to say.”

“‘Hello. How are you?' is a pretty good place to start.”

A grin dimpled his cheek. “You have all the answers, don't you?”

To keep the mood light and playful, Sharleen joked, “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do!”

“I'm glad we met.” He tipped his head toward her and dropped his voice to a low, throaty pitch. “You're the kind of woman I need in my life.”

Your professional life or your personal life?

Sharleen didn't know how it happened, but they were side by side. Their arms were touching, their legs, too, and they were so close she could see the rise and fall of his chest. “Can I give you a piece of advice? Something my father used to tell me?”

He nodded his head and stared at her.

Her body was trembling, but she conquered her nerves and spoke in a clear, confident voice. “It doesn't matter what people say or think about you. Do what brings you joy, and always be your true, authentic self. At the end of the day, that is really all that matters.”

“Your father was a wise man, and it's obvious you inherited his remarkable insight.”

His words were kind, and his eyes were full of sympathy, but she became flustered nonetheless. He was out-and-out flirting with her, and it felt great! Her emotions seesawed between excitement and trepidation. Emilio was a good guy, an honest-to-goodness gentleman, and the more they talked, the more Sharleen desired him.
I am in
way
over my head. Maybe I
should
refer Emilio to Brad—

“Do you like live music?” he asked, giving her forearm an affectionate squeeze. “There's a jazz café a few blocks from here, and the house band is one of the best I've ever heard.”

“I'd better not. It's almost midnight, and tomorrow's going to be a long, busy day.” Remembering their bet, Sharleen picked up her purse and took out a glossy white brochure. “There are tons of free workshops offered at the conference, but I highly recommend Stress Less, Live More; Life Plans for Dummies, and Reclaim Your Life Today.”

“You're going to hold me to our bet, aren't you?”

“Absolutely!”

Emilio took the brochure and looked it over. “Interesting.”

Sharleen expected him to make excuses for why he couldn't attend the event, but to her surprise he said, “I'll be there. When and where should we meet?”

“I'll meet you at the front entrance of the convention center at one o'clock.”

“Don't make any plans for dinner, because after the conference I'm taking you to Dolce Vita Atlanta for the culinary experience of a lifetime.”

“I
love
that restaurant. It's a date.”

Sharleen finally felt confident that she could help Emilio overcome the pain of his past—but she just had to do it without losing her dignity and self-respect.
Just because I'm attracted to Emilio doesn't mean I can't effectively do my job. Besides, if Brad can socialize with clients after dark, so can I!

“I had a great time tonight. This was fun,” Emilio said.

“This was nothing,” she quipped, dismissing his words with a wave of her hand. “You're going to have even
more
fun at the Mind, Body & Soul Conference tomorrow.”

Emilio gave a hearty laugh. “I'll walk you to your car.”

He took her hand, led her down the staircase and through the empty lounge. Outside, the streets were loud and crowded. The moon hung high in the sky, the air smelled sweet and the wind whistled through the trees. It was the perfect night for stargazing, for cuddling with that special someone in bed, and Sharleen secretly wished she had someone special in her life, a man who would love her in spite of her—

“Thanks for dinner
and
that nail-biting pool game.”

Sharleen playfully poked his shoulder. “Don't hate 'cause I'm fabulous!”

“
That
you are.” Emilio dropped a kiss on her cheek. “Drive home safe.”

“I'll see you tomorrow.”

“You can count on it.”

He opened the driver's-side door for her and stepped aside. “Good night.”

Sharleen started the engine, waved and drove slowly through the parking lot. In the rearview mirror, she watched Emilio hop into the gleaming white sports car parked in front of the bar. Her temperature rose, and desire burned hot inside her. She needed a stiff drink and a cold shower, or it was going to be a
very
long night.

Chapter 6

“S
weetie, open up. It's me.” Sharleen pressed her palms against the window, stood on her tiptoes and peered inside the quaint brick house. Spotting a figure curled up on the couch, she banged on the glass until her hands throbbed with pain. “Jocelyn, I
know
you're home, and I'm not leaving until we talk, so get up and open the door!”

Remembering where she was, Sharleen straightened and smoothed a hand over her ivory blouse. Faking a smile, she waved at the elderly woman walking her poodles. Jocelyn lived in Grant Park, a working-class neighborhood filled with professionals, families and retirees, and Sharleen feared if she continued banging on the window, one of Jocelyn's neighbors would call the cops, and she'd be arrested for trespassing.

Frustrated, she crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently on the ground. Sharleen knew Jocelyn was upset about being fired, but she was taking things too far. She wasn't answering her cell phone or responding to her text messages, and now she was blatantly ignoring her.
What's up with that?
Why is she pushing me away? We're
supposed
to be girls.

To calm herself down, she counted to ten and inhaled a deep breath.
As Sharleen stood on the porch, contemplating her next move, her thoughts turned to Emilio.

Her mood instantly brightened, and a smile warmed her lips. They'd had a great time last night, and although Sharleen was annoyed with Antwan for tricking her, she'd enjoyed the one-on-one time with Emilio. He'd opened up to her, agreed to meet her at the Mind, Body & Soul Conference that afternoon and even promised to take her out for dinner. And that morning, as she was eating breakfast, he'd surprised her with a hilarious text message.

Can I have a picture of you, so I can show Santa what I want for Christmas?

She'd laughed so hard soy milk had spewed out of her mouth. For the past two hours, they'd been trading text messages, and every time his name popped up on her cell-phone screen her heart danced with excitement.
Working with Emilio is going to be a challenge, but I know I can do it. I have to, or Brad will swoop in and steal him away
—

The front door creaked open. Sharleen felt her mouth fall open, but she quickly shut it. Jocelyn, the biracial cutie with the quick wit and flamboyant personality, was a mess. Her yellow bathrobe was wrinkled, stained with coffee, and her curly brown hair was disheveled. She looked exhausted, as if she hadn't slept in weeks, and she was nervously shuffling her feet.

“Jocelyn, how are you?” Sharleen knew it was a dumb question, regretted it the moment the words left her mouth, but she didn't know what else to say. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine. What are you doing here?”

“Now, is that any way to greet your partner in crime?” Sharleen asked, giving her best friend a hug. “I haven't heard from you in a few days, and I got worried. It's not like you to ignore my calls, so I decided to stop by for a visit.”

“I have a lot on my mind,” she mumbled. “I'm busy. You should go.”

Ignoring her, Sharleen walked inside the house and kicked off her sandals. Glancing around the kitchen, she was shocked to see dishes piled high in the sink, the hardwood floors streaked with dirt and the overflowing garbage can.

Sharleen opened the fridge, grabbed everything she needed to make breakfast and placed the ingredients on the granite countertop. “Sit,” she said, pointing at the table. “I'm making you a Sante Fe omelet, and you're going to love it.”

“Don't bother.” Jocelyn dropped into a chair. “I'm not hungry.”

“When was the last time you ate?”

“Can't remember.”

Sharleen washed the vegetables, chopped them up and tossed them in a glass bowl. “How's your mom doing? Has she been discharged from the hospital?”

“No, they're running additional tests and prepping her for surgery.”

“Try not to worry. Your mom's a fighter. She'll pull through.”

To reassure her, Sharleen squeezed her hand. Jocelyn had taken Sharleen under her wing when she started working at Pathways, and over the years they'd become closer than sisters. They had weekly girls' nights, traveled together and spent holidays with Jocelyn's fun-loving Bahamian family. After numerous visits to the ER, Mrs. Calhoun had been diagnosed with heart failure, but her cardiologist was confident her upcoming surgery would be a success.

“When are you going to the hospital?” Sharleen turned on the stove, sprayed the frying pan with cooking oil and poured in the egg batter. “If it's okay, I'd like to come with you.”

Her face brightened. “My mom would love that. She asks about you all the time.”

“Think I can get away with sneaking food into the hospital for her?”

“If you do, she'll love you even more!”

“Then it's worth the risk.” Sharleen pointed the spatula at Jocelyn. “But if I get arrested you
better
bail me out ASAP, or else.”

The joke lightened the mood, caused the tension in the air to recede.

“Aren't you supposed to be at the Mind, Body & Soul Conference?” Jocelyn asked.

“I wanted to check in on you, so I switched time slots with Christelle.”

Jocelyn's cell phone buzzed, and she glanced down at the screen. “Men are jerks,” she fumed. “They're dogs who can't be trusted, and we're better off without them.”

Not all of them,
Sharleen thought. Emilio had a gentle nature, and she felt close to him, connected to him in a way she'd never experienced before. What was it he'd said?
You're the
prettiest woman in the room... I had a great time with you tonight... Don't make any plans for dinner. I'm taking you to Dolce Vita Atlanta for the culinary experience of a lifetime.

“I wish I could get away for a while.” Jocelyn picked up a pack of cigarettes off the table and opened it. “If my mom wasn't sick, that's exactly what I'd do.”

“You quit smoking, remember?”

“I'm stressed. I need something to help calm my nerves.”

“Then I'll fix you a cup of coffee.” Sharleen snatched the lighter out of Jocelyn's hand and stuffed it inside her back pocket. “Friends don't let friends smoke.”

“I
really
wish you'd leave. I'm not in the mood for your mouth today...”

Pretending she didn't hear her, Sharleen returned to the stove, whistling a tune. Arguing with Jocelyn would only make the situation worse, so she finished cooking breakfast and pretended not to notice her best friend glaring at her. Minutes later, she put the omelet on a plate, set it down on the table and said with a smile, “Bon appétit.”

Jocelyn stared longingly at the pack of cigarettes.

“Eat. You'll feel better.”

“Quit bossing me around,” she snapped.

I wouldn't have to if you weren't acting like such a drama queen.
Deciding to give Jocelyn space, she returned to the sink and put on rubber gloves. Sharleen loaded the dishwasher, swept the floor and emptied the garbage, all the while thinking about Emilio. It was hard not to. There was something about him that appealed to her, that touched her in a profound way, and she was looking forward to meeting up with him at the conference that afternoon. “Here's your coffee,” Sharleen said, putting the ceramic mug on the table.

“Sorry for snapping at you, but I'm having the day from hell.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Jocelyn shrugged. “What's there to talk about? My life is ruined.”

“There are other jobs and tons of great coaching centers right here in Atlanta.”

“I shouldn't have trusted Brad.” Her voice wobbled, cracked with emotion. “How could I have been so stupid? So desperate that I didn't realize he was playing me?”

Frowning, Sharleen sat down. “What does Brad have to do with you getting fired?”

“I don't want to talk about it. It's too embarrassing.”

“We're friends. You can trust me.”

Jocelyn lowered her eyes to the floor and hugged her legs to her chest.

“I'd never betray you. You know that.”

“I...” She stumbled over her words and paused to gather herself. “I slept with Brad.”

“No! Why? You hate him more than I do!”

“I know, but he showed up here with flowers and Chinese takeout on my birthday, and I caved. I was lonely, and for a while he helped me forget my problems.”

Guilt consumed Sharleen, made her feel low. This was all her fault. If she'd spent last Monday night with Jocelyn, instead of working late, her friend wouldn't be in a miserable funk now. She'd make it up to her, would spare no expense. They were tighter than Gayle and Oprah, and Sharleen knew just what to do to lift her spirits. Front-row seats to the Rashad J concert were going to set her back hundreds of dollars, but Jocelyn was worth it. “You're fabulous, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise, especially that louse Brad.”

“I know, but I thought I'd be married with two or three kids by now.”

Sharleen didn't know what to say. They'd had this conversation countless times before, as recently as last week, but nothing she said ever made Jocelyn feel better. So she just smiled sympathetically and nodded her head at the appropriate junctures.

“I don't expect you to understand. You're still in your twenties.”

“You're right,” Sharleen conceded, determined not to argue with her best friend. “I don't understand why you're freaked about getting older, or why finding a husband is so important to you, but sleeping with Brad isn't the answer. Hooking up with a colleague is asking for trouble.”

“You can say that again. He's a sloppy kisser, a selfish lover and a lousy lay.”

“I'm not surprised. He's got small feet
and
a huge ego!”

Jocelyn laughed, but the lighthearted reprieve didn't last long. Sadness clouded her features, and her shoulders sagged under the weight of her despair. “Brad cornered me in the staff room the next day, and when I refused to give him a blow job, he went off on me.”

“What a pig,” Sharleen scoffed, disgusted. “He used to be a decent guy, but he changed when he got his master certification last fall. Unfortunately, he let success go to his head.”

Silence fell over the room, and when Jocelyn finally spoke, her voice was strained with anguish. “Brad threatened me.” Her eyes filled with tears, and her lips trembled. “He said if I make trouble for him with Mrs. Fontaine, he'll post naked pictures of me online.”

“Jocelyn, ignore him. He's bluffing.”

“No...he's not... He has pictures of me on his iPhone.”

“They're fakes,” Sharleen insisted. “People alter photographs all the time.”

“They're real. It's definitely me. He must have taken them when I fell asleep.”

Anger rose inside her, and as Sharleen listened to Jocelyn's story unfold, she found it hard to control her temper. No wonder her friend was holed up inside the house, crying her eyes out; Brad was threatening to ruin her life. Jocelyn looked terrified, scared out of her mind, and for good reason. Brad McClendon was a lying, scheming manipulator who preyed on lonely women, and there was no telling what he'd do next.

“I don't know how much more of this I can take. He's been calling and texting me nonstop, and I'm sick of it. I'm so stressed-out, I feel like I'm losing my mind.”

A cold wind whipped through the kitchen, and a shiver zipped down Sharleen's spine. The situation was worse than she'd thought. She had to act; she had to do something, but what?
Should I confront Brad with what I know or go straight to Mrs. Fontaine?
The answer eluded her, and the more she thought about it, the more confused she was.

“I still can't believe this is happening. I played right into his hands...”

To comfort her, Sharleen rubbed her shoulders. Watching Jocelyn, seeing the anguished expression on her face, brought tears to her eyes. In all the years they'd been friends, she'd never seen her like this. Never, not once, not even when her fiancé broke things off last year. “This is wrong. We can't let Brad get away with this.”

Jocelyn kept her head down, didn't look at her or respond.

“We have to go to Mrs. Fontaine and tell her what happened.”

“I already did. She didn't believe me.”

“What?” exploded out of her mouth in a deafening shout. “Why not?”

“Because Brad met with her
first
and accused me of propositioning him at work.”

Sharleen gasped. “He didn't!”

“Mrs. Fontaine fired me, and when I turned in my keys, she said if I try and contact any of my clients, she'll sue me for breach of contract. Can she do that?”

“Yes, unfortunately, she can.”

Jocelyn sniffed and wiped her nose with the sleeve of her bathrobe. “This couldn't have happened at a worse time. I
just
signed Zoe Archer-Ross—”

“The actress? I didn't know you were working with her.”

“I was hired to be her sober coach,” she explained. “I balked when her agent first contacted me, but when he told me the studio would triple my hourly rate, I said
hell yeah
.”

“Twelve hundred dollars a day is fantastic money. You'd be a fool to turn that down.”

“I was planning to use that money to pay off my mom's medical bills...” Her face crumpled, and tears spilled down her cheeks. “What am I going to do? She's counting on me.”

Sharleen took Jocelyn in her arms and held her tight. She hated to see her cry, and her own eyes teared up as she listened to Jocelyn sob. She felt defeated, as helpless as a child, but she tried to speak with confidence. “Don't worry,” she said calmly. “Everything will be fine. I promise.”

“How? Brad's crazy, and Mrs. Fontaine turned her back on me.”