Places in My Heart (5 page)

“I'd appreciate it.”

“By the way, Marcus told me about the mental health center you're trying to open. It's a good thing. I'll be there on Saturday.”

“I'll be glad for the support.” The two men shook hands, and Omar headed back down to the garage where his car was parked. He slid behind the wheel, pulled out his cell and called Roland. Just the mere thought of the man spiked Omar's anger all over again. But the sooner he ended the relationship, the better he'd be, mentally and financially.

“I've been trying to call you for the past two and a half weeks,” Roland started in before Omar could say a word. “We need to jump on this deal with Apple. I can't keep putting them off.”

He knew that deal would most likely net a lucrative contract, but Roland wouldn't be handling it. If Apple was serious and things worked out with Morgan, maybe he'd ask her to negotiate the contract. He felt certain she would be honest in her dealings.

“So I need you to get over here and—”

“Roland,” Omar interrupted. “I won't be coming by your office tonight or ever. We're done.”

There was a slight pause, then Roland said, “What the hell do you mean, we're done? After all I've done for you. You would've never been able to negotiate a deal to become one of the highest paid tight ends had it not been for me. You
need
me, Drummond.”

“Are you sure it's not the other way around?”

The agent went silent for a moment. “Exactly what are you implying?”

“I'm not implying anything. I'm opting out of my contract.”

“You can't do that to me,” he yelled.

“Sure I can. Remember that clause that says either of us can terminate the contract if the other doesn't live up to the agreement? You haven't, so I'm exercising that option. You'll be hearing from my attorney.” Roland's curses filled Omar's ear as Omar ended the call. He blew out a long breath and felt a weight being lifted off his chest. He smiled, started the engine and drove across town to his brother and sister-in-law's house.

He was relieved to see his brother's truck parked in the driveway. Every so often something would trigger some sort of flashback for Rashad and he'd disappear for hours, sometimes days. And when he returned, looked as if he'd been sleeping on the streets. Six months ago, after much discussion, Rashad had allowed Omar to buy him a small trailer where he could go when he needed time alone. So far it had worked out and made it easier on his wife and children, as well as the rest of their family.

“Uncle Omar!”

His twelve-year-old niece, Brianna, flew off the porch and across the grass before Omar could close the car door. It seemed like she had added another inch or two to her slender frame since he'd seen her last and, with her smooth mocha skin, dark eyes and wide smile, was a mini replica of her beautiful mother. She launched herself at him as soon as he rounded the fender, and he scooped her up and swung her around. Setting her gently on her feet, he placed a kiss on her temple. “How's my favorite niece?” he asked with a grin.

“I'm your
only
niece,” she answered with a playful roll of her eyes. “I'm good.”

“You enjoying your summer break?” he asked as they strolled up the walk.

“Yes and no.”

“What's the problem?”

“There's nothing to do...except the stupid report Mom makes us write. I want to take a dance class, but she said I'd have to wait awhile.”

“Well, that report is important.” His librarian sister-in-law made his niece and nephew write a Black history report every summer, saying they couldn't know where they were going unless they knew where they'd been. “As far as the dance class, you keep doing what you're supposed to and I'm sure your mom will let you take one.” Omar held open the screen door.

Brianna pouted and mumbled, “I guess.”

He shook his head and followed her into the house. His ten-year-old nephew, Rashad Jr., was in his usual spot in front of the television, playing some video game. Omar playfully rubbed his head. “What's up, little man?”

“Hey, Uncle O,” Rashad Jr. said without taking his eyes off the screen.

“Where's your mom?” he asked Brianna.

“In the kitchen,” she called over her shoulder and veered off down a hallway.

He continued to the kitchen. “Hey, Serena.”

“Omar,” she said, drying her hands on a dish towel and coming over to hug him. “How are you?”

“Good. What about you?” He studied her pained expression.

“Yesterday, not so great. But today is better.”

He nodded, knowing she was talking about his brother. “Anything you need me to do?”

“No. But you're welcome to stay for dinner if you want. Rashad asked for fried chicken, so that's what I'm making.”

“You know I never turn down your fried chicken. Where is he?”

“Outside in the backyard.”

Omar went out the sliding glass door off the kitchen and spotted his brother sitting on the grass beneath a large shade tree.

“Hey, little brother,” Rashad called.

“Hey.”

Rashad smiled. “Serena call you because I had a bad day yesterday?”

“No. I didn't know you had one. How's today?”

He shrugged. “Better, I guess.”

“What happened yesterday?”

“Had one of those stupid shrink sessions. The man acted like he had somewhere he needed to be. Kept checking his watch every five minutes, then asked if we could call it a day.” He slanted Omar a glance. “Fifteen minutes into the session. Made me upset. I'm not going back. Tired of being treated like I'm nobody.”

Omar sighed inwardly. This was the second psychiatrist Rashad had seen. It had taken several months for him to receive the service. The first one only wanted to prescribe medication, to which his brother was adamantly opposed, and the current one had a habit of canceling or shortening appointments. It was even more reason why he wanted to open the center. He started to speak and his cell rang. Not wanting to interrupt his brother now that he was opening up, he let it ring.

“You going to answer that?”

“I can call whoever it is back later.”

Rashad shook his head. “Answer your phone, Mr. Psychologist. This isn't a counseling session.”

Omar chuckled and dug the cell out of his pocket. He went still upon seeing Morgan's name on the display. “Hey, Morgan.”

“Hi, Drummond. Is this a good time to talk?”

“What's up?”

“I just wanted to see how your meeting with Jaedon Dupree went.”

“It went well. Can I call you later? I'm talking to my brother.”

“Of course. Why didn't you say so in the first place?”

“Your call is important.”

“Drummond, I thought we—”

“Relax, Morgan. I just meant as far as our business is concerned.”

“Oh. Sorry,” she mumbled. “I'll be home around nine, if that's not too late for you.”

Omar smiled.
Back to business.
“No. I'll call you around nine-thirty.” Rashad was staring at him with a silly grin on his face when Omar hung up. “What?”

“Baby brother's got a new girl. It's been a while.”

This was the brother he remembered and grew up with. At thirty-four and six years Omar's senior, Rashad had taught him everything he knew about women. Omar had idolized his big brother and tried to emulate his every move, from his walk and the way he talked to his smooth reputation when it came to the ladies. “I don't have a new girl. Just a new agent.”

“This I have got to hear.”

They shared a smile, and Omar filled him in on what had led up to him firing Roland and hiring Morgan.

Later, after arriving home, he decided to shower first. Then he'd call Morgan to let her know about his conversation with Jaedon and invite her to be his date for the fund-raiser. Now that he'd fired Roland, he was free to be seen with her in public and wanted to introduce her as his new agent. He only hoped he'd be able to keep his hands off her.

Chapter 5

M
organ added the finishing touches to her makeup Saturday evening and surveyed her look. The navy off-the-shoulder floor-length gown dipped modestly in the front and had a front slit to the knee. Nothing too revealing. She didn't want to give Omar or anyone else the impression that their relationship was anything but business. The fluttering increased in her stomach. Ever since Omar had asked her to attend a benefit dinner with him—their first public appearance together—her nerves had been on edge. Though this was supposed to be business, somehow it felt like a real date. What would people think? And what would her family say? Outside Malcolm, she hadn't gotten up the courage to tell the rest of them. Siobhan was due back to work next week, so she'd talk to her.

Her mind went back to the benefit. Omar had mentioned it being held for a mental health center, but he hadn't been specific about the details. Morgan's curiosity was piqued, and she wished she knew more. The intercom sounded and her heart started racing.

“Yes?”

“Omar,” came the warm baritone.

She buzzed him in and drew in a deep, calming breath before opening the door. Her breath caught at the sight of him looking as if he'd just left a photo shoot for
GQ
magazine.

“So...can I come in?” Omar asked with a knowing grin.

Morgan wanted to kick herself. No way would he take her seriously about keeping things strictly professional if she stared at him like a starstruck groupie every time she saw him. “Of course.” She stepped back, waved him in and walked over to the end table where she'd left her purse.

“You look stunning.” His gaze made a slow tour down her body and an even slower one back up. Their eyes met. “Stunning.”

What have I gotten myself into?
Morgan didn't see how she would be able to resist him for the next few weeks. She didn't know if she'd make it through tonight. “Thanks. You clean up pretty well yourself.” Instead of all black, he had opted for a white jacket. His tuxedo caressed his tall, lean frame, and she had visions of undoing—

Abruptly halting her erotic fantasy, she chastised herself again. She had never lost her mind over a man before and had no intentions of starting now. “I'm ready.” Morgan slung the thin strap of her silver evening bag over her shoulder and started for the door. Omar caught her hand. The contact sent an electric current up her arm.

“Morgan, I just want you to know how much I appreciate you taking a chance on me.” He bent and placed a soft kiss on her cheek.

She ignored the potency of his cologne and the sensations flowing through her that his kiss invoked and said, “You're welcome. I could say the same for you.” They shared a smile. The intensity of his stare made her pulse skip, and she turned away. “We don't want to be late.” Morgan locked the door behind them and hurried down the walk. He led her to a newer-model silver BMW and held the door open. She slid in and leaned back against the butter-soft leather.

Omar stepped in on the driver's side and got them underway. “I've never seen your hair straight like this. I didn't know it was that long. I like it.”

“Thank you.” She unconsciously brought a hand up and smoothed down the sleek, straight strands. Most times she left it curly. “It started as a bet between Malcolm and me two years ago to see who could grow their hair the longest—mine straight and his with locs.” Malcolm's locs had reached his shoulder blades before he trimmed them to just below his neck. Morgan had continued to let hers grow, and her hair now reached the middle of her back.

“I guess you won, huh?”

“Yes. But, I've been thinking about cutting it.”

“Don't do that,” he said quickly. Omar's eyes left the road briefly and found hers. “It's beautiful.”

Although they shouldn't have, his words pleased her. He smiled over at her, and she felt the heat rising between them. To distract herself she asked, “So tell me about the center. How long has it been open?”

“They just broke ground, and it's projected to open next March.”

“Do you know the people who will run it, or are you just going to support it?”

“Both.”

She waited for him to elaborate, but he said nothing else. Silence slipped between them. A moment later, soft music filled the car's interior.

“Is there too much air on you? I tend to run hot and I'm usually the only one in the car, so I forget to turn it down.”

Morgan was running a little hot herself, and it had nothing to do with the ninety-degree July weather. “It's fine.”

“How are you feeling about tonight?”

Her brows knit together. “What do you mean?”

“Dealing with the questions and comments.”

“I'll be fine. I'm sure there will be at least one person who has something negative to say, but as a lawyer, I deal with it all the time. I have two strikes against me—I'm a woman and I'm only twenty-seven.”

“Well, I'd better not hear one disrespectful comment.”

She chuckled. “Before you go all caveman, remember, I'm
your
agent. It's my job to protect you, not the other way around. Save that for your girlfriends.”

“I don't have any
girlfriends
. I haven't dated anyone seriously in almost four years.”

Her head snapped around. “What about all the pictures that have been popping up of you with one woman or the other? And the media—”

“We've already been down this road,” Omar said with a slight edge. “Don't believe everything the media says.” He sighed heavily. “Look, Morgan, I'm not saying I've lived my life as a saint. I've made my share of mistakes just like everybody else, but that was when I was younger.” He pulled into the valet lane at the hotel, put the car in Park and turned to face her. “When you open yourself up to someone and find out that she only wants to use you, it makes you grow up fast. And you're not too eager to do it all over again.”

It had never occurred to her that he might have had his heart broken in the past. “I'm sorry. As an attorney, I should know better than to judge without all the facts.” Morgan stuck out her hand. “No more judging. Deal?”

He smiled and reached for her hand. “Deal.”

He lifted her hand to his lips, and she snatched it away. “What do you think you're doing? No. Kisses.”

“That was just a...” He trailed off at her look.

“Did you ever kiss your other agents?”

Omar lifted a brow. “My other agents didn't look like you.”

Morgan skewered him with a glare.

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. You're right.” He glanced over his shoulder and saw the valet standing outside the door. “I guess we should get out. Ready to face the masses?”

She smiled. “Let's do it.”

Shaking his head, Omar got out and came around to her side. “Is helping you out of the car allowed?”

She placed her hand in his. “Ha-ha, you got jokes now.”

“Hey, I'm just trying to keep my agent from dropping me before I get to the bargaining table.”

She cut him a look and rolled her eyes. “Let's go, Drummond.”

He chuckled and escorted her inside.

As soon as they entered the ballroom, several pairs of eyes swung their way, all filled with surprise. The butterflies that had previously calmed returned in full force. “Oo-kay. I guess it's showtime.”

“Yep.”

Before they could take a step, a man headed toward them with a wide smile.

“Long time no see, Drummond,” the man said, shaking Omar's hand. Although he had spoken to Omar, his eyes were locked on Morgan.

“It has been a while. Morgan, this is Garrett Butler, an old college classmate. Garrett, my agent, Morgan Gray.”

Morgan bit back a smile at the man's stunned gaze. “It's nice to meet you.”

“Same here.” Garrett glanced back at Omar. “Didn't hear you'd changed agents.”

“It just happened recently,” Omar replied mildly.

“Well, congratulations and good luck in the upcoming season. Ms. Gray, it was a pleasure.” He nodded her way and departed.

“That was easy,” Morgan murmured. “I hope it's a sign of things to come.”

“Yes, let's hope. Come on. I want to introduce you to a few people, and then we'll get our seats.”

“Okay.” After the first one or two people, the names and faces started to blur. But so far, no one had been rude. He stopped at a table in the front, dead center, and pulled out a chair for her. “Do we need to sit so close?” She had no desire to have her every move scrutinized the entire evening.

“It'll be fine.” He lowered himself into the chair beside her.

A man approached the table. “Omar. I'm glad you're here. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure. Morgan, this is a good friend of mine, Bryson Harper. He's the board's chairman. Bryce, my agent, Morgan Gray.”

Bryson grinned. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Gray. About time he showed up with somebody who looks better than the last three agents he's had. You won't get a better client than this one,” he said, clapping Omar on the shoulder.

A smile lit Morgan's face, and she laughed. “Thank you.”

“Mind if I borrow Omar?”

“Not at all.”

“Be back in a minute,” Omar told her.

Morgan watched Omar's fluid gait as he walked away. Alone, she took the opportunity to check out the guests. She saw city dignitaries, football players and even a few sports agents in the sea of people mingling. She caught a glimpse of Jaedon Dupree standing in a small group and smiled inwardly at a woman trying to insert herself into the conversation. Not that Morgan could blame her. Morgan had met Jaedon at a conference where he was one of several presenters. With his towering height, mesmerizing voice and green eyes, he'd held the attention of every female lawyer in the building.

Her brother waved from across the room and started in her direction. Then Malcolm bent and kissed her cheek. “Hey, sis. I didn't know you were going to be here tonight.”

“We decided to make the announcement on our terms instead of waiting for the media to spin it.”

“It's a good strategy. And the other parts?”

“Other parts of what?”

“The relationship.”

“There is no relationship. It's strictly business.”

A smile played around his lips. “If you say so. Have you told the family yet?”

“Not yet,” she said with a heavy sigh.

“You do realize your face is going to be all over the news after tonight. Better for them to hear it from you.”

“I know. Maybe I'll do it at dinner tomorrow.” The entire family got together at least monthly for Sunday dinner. “Daddy's probably going to have a fit. And Brandon just told me this week that I should focus on being a lawyer right now.”

He squeezed her shoulder. “Well, you know I got your back.”

“Thanks, Mal.”

Omar returned, and he and Malcolm shared a one-arm hug. “What's up, man?”

“I see you have a new agent,” Malcolm said. “I hope it works out.”

Staring down at Morgan, he said, “I'm counting on it.”

Malcolm chuckled, and Morgan cut him a quick look.

“Looks like they're about to serve dinner. I'll see you guys later.”

Over dinner, conversation flowed around the table. Morgan learned that the center's focus would be to provide services for veterans. She thought that was a great idea and made a mental note to mention it to her father. As veterans, he and Uncle Thad would more than likely want to pledge their support. After dinner, Bryson stepped up to the microphone and thanked everyone for attending. He provided detailed information on the center's goals and what they needed in the way of funding.

“I'd like to take credit for this dynamic project, but I can't,” Bryson continued. “That honor belongs to our keynote speaker and the center's founder, Omar Drummond.” Applause sounded throughout the ballroom.

Morgan gasped and swung her surprised gaze to Omar. “You're the... Why didn't you tell me?” she whispered.

Omar shrugged, stood and made his way to the podium. “Thanks, Bryce. And thank you all for coming.”

He turned his serious gaze toward the audience, and Morgan was held spellbound as he spoke about the limited and often difficult-to-access services for the country's veterans. Omar then shared how his best friend, suffering from PTSD, committed suicide six months after being discharged from the Army. Tears filled her eyes while she listened to him talk about his older brother suffering from the same disease and its effects on his wife and children.

Omar finished by saying, “Our servicemen and servicewomen have given everything, including their lives, to protect our freedom. It's about time we returned the favor.”

The room erupted in applause, and Morgan was on her feet with everyone else. When he came back to the table, it was all she could do not to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him. She settled for a gentle pat on his arm. She leaned toward him. “You were absolutely amazing.”

“That means a lot coming from you, Morgan. Thanks.”

They were only a breath apart. If either of them moved... Luckily someone came over and claimed Omar's attention. Morgan reached for her glass of water and took a big gulp. Many more people came over to congratulate him, and he introduced Morgan as he had all evening.

A few minutes later, the music started and people took to the dance floor. She nodded in time to the beat and smiled at a few people who were really letting loose. She turned back and found Omar staring at her with an intensity that made her heart rate speed up.

“Stop looking at me like that. You're going to make it hard for people to believe I'm just your agent.”

“Looking at you like what?”

“Like I'm your favorite dessert and you can't wait to gobble me up.”