Selena's Men (3 page)

“That’s how I feel about Tamara. I’m not so sure about her brothers. Just kidding. I love them too.”

At her words he felt the green-eyed monster of jealousy rip through him.

“Of course if they didn’t have their significant others to temper their meddling ways, I think Tamara or I would have probably killed them at least once in the last ten years.”

Instantly he began to relax. He recognized the camaraderie of love between non-blood relatives. He and the Ravens, although not related by blood, were brothers of the heart and soul.

“I understand completely. One of my closest friends is in constant danger of being zapped to the nether regions of hell anytime he’s in the same room with my brother Max. You’d think he makes it his life’s duty to piss my big brother off.” Malcolm lay back on the bed.

“So how long do you think it’ll take you to find me some property to look at?”

Shit!
He forgot why he’d been talking to her in the first place. For some insane reason Malcolm was more at ease speaking with a total stranger than he was with almost anyone other than his fellow Ravens.

“After you send me the specs I’ll make you my top priority. I can guarantee I’ll have something for you within the week. How does that sound?”

She clapped her hands, which he could hear through the phone. “I can’t wait. Can you e-mail pics of the locations, too?”

“I’ll bombard you with everything I’ve got.”
And there goes the double entendre again.

“Great. I just sent you what I need. I really look forward to hearing from you.”

Malcolm didn’t want to let her go. That train of thought was enough to make him end the call. “Listen, I gotta go. I’ll get back with you when I get you some properties to check out.”

“I can’t wait to see what you’ll come up with.”

He was angry at himself for wanting a woman he’d never met. First in his dreams, and now some anonymous woman on the phone. He never mixed business with pleasure, but here he was wanting a woman whose voice made him hard and nearly ready to come in his pants. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t realize how late it was. I have a meeting in less than thirty minutes and have yet to change out of my traveling clothes.”
There I go again, soothing the woman when what I need to do is go out and get laid.

“Then I’ll let you get off here. Hope your meeting goes as planned. And thank you again for agreeing to work with me.”

Her southern drawl really was the sexiest thing he’d ever heard. He, who’d heard every language spoken, could speak every language including those that no longer existed. At this rate he was going to have to rub one out before meeting his client for their meeting.

“It was my pleasure, Miss Ramos. I look forward to doing business with you.” Maybe if he kept it business by calling her by her last name he could keep his body in check.

“Oh, no. Please call me Selena, or Lena. Unless of course you prefer me to call you Mr. King?”

Gods, but he couldn’t keep it business with her. He didn’t care what she looked like. There was something about her that drew him. “No, please call me Mal, or Malcolm.”

After assuring Selena he’d call, he hung up. He opened his e-mail and immediately forwarded the specs to his brother with a terse order to make it happen.

* * * *

Selena pushed the disconnect button on the headset. Malcolm King could be the voiceover for audio porn, she was sure.

It was an easy thing to send what she needed in size for the next Redneck Paradise. The name of her clubs always brought a sense of pride to Selena.

Born and raised in Texas, she was a country girl at heart. Even though she came from money, she still considered herself a redneck. Her best friend Tamara loved to tease her because she never went without either her cowgirl boots or her flip flops.

At Redneck Paradise the uniform was either a pair of jean shorts or a jean skirt and a tank top or shirt with the logo of the club emblazoned across the front. And of course a pair of cowgirl boots, with or without a cowgirl hat.

She kicked her chair back and propped her bare feet up on her desk. How would the Midwest react to her type of bar? Silly question. Who didn’t like to see gorgeous girls in cute outfits? Add equally gorgeous guys strategically placed throughout who were not only easy on the eyes, but kicked the unruly patrons out when needed, and you’ve got a recipe for success.

“What’s put that look on your face?”

“Sweet baby Jesus,” Selena wheezed, nearly falling out of her chair. “Can’t you knock like normal people?”

A raise of one perfectly arched eyebrow was her only answer. Tamara Mejia strolled into Selena’s home office in a white pencil skirt with a slit that almost made it indecent, paired with a striped, black-and-white top that molded to her upper body and left part of her midriff showing.

“I’m waiting.” Tamara sat in the chair across from Selena’s desk.

“I just got off the phone with the broker I was telling you about. He thinks he knows some property for sale in Kansas City that’ll work for us.”

“Uh huh. That’s not the look I was referring to. The dreamy expression I walked in on was one that I’d describe as a woman who was on the verge of orgasmic bliss.”

Selena was sure her face resembled a tomato. “Does not.”

“Does too.”

She grabbed the cute little stuffed dragon sitting next to her keyboard and tossed it at Tamara’s head. “Bitch.” Selena laughed.

Tamara easily caught the stuffed toy.

“All right, so that’s out of the way. So you gonna answer my question?”

“Fine, but don’t laugh.” Selena waited while Tamara pretended to cross her heart. “I was talking to the broker and I don’t know how to describe it, but his voice…it just…” She sighed.

“Made your panties wet?” Tamara dodged the stuffed wolf Selena lobbed at her head.

“I hate you, you hussy.”

“You love me, you just hate that I know you. So.” Tamara paused.

Selena knew her friend wouldn’t stop until she told her what she wanted to hear. “Fine, you’re right. There, I said it.” She was saved from further embarrassment by the ding of an incoming e-mail.

A giddy feeling took up residence in the pit of her stomach at the unknown sender. With the unmistakable King in the title she assumed it had to be from Malcolm, so she quickly clicked it open. Attached to the e-mail were several specs and even pictures of the space he felt would work for her.

“Oh my gawd, Tam. He did it. Look,” Selena squealed.

Tamara uncrossed her long legs to come around the desk. They both looked over the pictures, enlarging them as they clicked on each individual one.

“Dang, girl. That boy sure does work quick.”

Selena kept her face averted, not wanting to see if Tamara was doing that Seer thing she did. Although to be fair, Selena knew the other girl would never do anything to hurt her. Just the opposite, in fact.

“What do you think?” Selena asked, instead of addressing Tamara’s statement.

“What does your gut tell you, Lena?”

With a hand on her stomach, Selena scooted her chair away from her desk. Tamara hopped her butt up on the desk and crossed her feet at the ankles, looking prepared to wait.

“Perfect. My gut tells me it’s perfect.” Selena bit down on her bottom lip, waiting to see if Tamara thought she was crazy.

“Then let’s do it. You’re right. Of course I already knew that before I came here.”

“You what?” Selena jumped up from her chair.

“Now now, don’t let that temper of yours get out of control,” Tamara soothed.

The hair on Selena’s arms were standing on end. A twinkling light in the brown eyes of her best friend calmed her like nothing else.

“You are such a…”

“If you call me more bad names I’m gonna call my mama. You know she’ll wash your mouth out with soap.”

As a diffuser of situations, threatening to tell one’s mother was definitely a good one. Selena wrapped her arms around Tamara’s shoulders. “Love you.”

“All right, now enough of the mushy stuff. Did he give a timeframe as to when we can get started? These things don’t happen overnight, ya know.”

Even after all these years it amused Selena to see her best friend get all funny when it came to emotions. She made a shooing motion with her hands to get Tam to move out of the way since her butt was still parked on her desk.

A few keystrokes later and the first steps were done in her plans for the next club to add to her portfolio.

* * * *

Looking out at the setting sun with his arms crossed over his chest, Max thought about the poor lost goddess. The last time he’d seen Zeus—his mentor, the man who he’d looked up to, thought the world of—was just over twenty-four years ago. The Ravens were tasked with one last thing, and they had failed miserably.

He shook his head. The prospect of getting up every day without a purpose had always fueled his need to succeed, which he and the Ravens had done without fail, until now. Their time to find the lost child was dwindling with only a year, give or take a few weeks. Even though they’d narrowed down the power source to the United States, all the Ravens had separated, searching for her. Every day he let his senses flare, hoping if she were near his inner light would recognize her. Each night, utter despair threatened to choke him when he failed, with only the hope that his fellow Ravens had better luck fueling him.

If he could have found someone to share his life with, he’d have been content. A female that was made just for him and his brother.
Damn.
Ever since the dreams of the phantom woman, all Max thought of was the three of them coming together as one.

They didn’t even know if the dream woman was real or a figment of their imagination. Not to mention if they did find her now, their time with her would be short-lived if Zeus was to be believed. And why wouldn’t he be? He could still hear the words as if Zeus had just spoken them. “
If my daughter is not returned to me within twenty-five Earth years she will come into her god powers. An untrained goddess receiving all her powers at once will be disastrous for this world you call Earth. Find her for me.
”

Max scrubbed his hands down his face. Knowing that even Zeus had been blocked by the dethroned god Cronus, and wasn’t able to locate the child either, didn’t make him feel any better.

He got up from his chair to look out over the Power and Light District. From the top floor of his building he had an uninterrupted view of the entire area, plus a perfect view of the sky. The sun was setting, its fiery descent bringing to mind what the Earth would look like when it exploded.

A smile curved his mouth as he heard his assistant, Kim, talking. When the intercom buzzed, his lips pulled into a full-blown grin.

“Max, your brother just called and said he’s sending the contracts for the property back to you. He wants you to get them back to him ASAP.”

The way Kim enunciated each letter in a brisk staccato voice made him chuckle.

“Didn’t he want to talk to me?”

“Nope. He said to have you call him when you’re done. Hold on. The fax is just finishing.”

“Bring it in when it’s finished.”

“Yes, Sir.” Sarcasm dripped from her words. He could imagine she’d given him a tiny salute to emphasize the statement.

With a thought, he turned the intercom off and focused back on the skyline. It took only moments before a brief knock signaled his ever-efficient assistant’s presence.

“Here you go. Do you need anything else?”

“Shouldn’t you be gone by now?” Max looked at the clock on the wall. “I thought it was your bingo night.”

“I’m on my way now, unless you need me to fax these back?”

“I’ll take care of it. Go win some money.”

“Ha. I think I’m more of a donor than a winner. Your brother wanted me to make sure you know this client was super
special.”
The comical way she said the last word combined with the waggle of her eyebrows was one of the reasons he employed her. The fact she was in her late fifties and considered herself his pseudo-mother was another.

Halfway out the door, she stopped, saying over her shoulder, “You know your brother. She must be really…”

He knew what she implied. While he was the brother who put down roots for thirty or forty years, his brother liked to play it fast and easy.

Once he heard the outer office door shut he opened his senses. Usually by this hour all of the staff had already left for the day, but it was too ingrained in him not to check for himself.

The documents his brother had forwarded him lay on top of his desk, with the name Selena Ramos on top. It took him only seconds to scan the papers. Even though there were many bars already filling up the downtown Kansas City area, the urge to give this woman every available space assaulted him.

Within moments he signed in the appropriate spots and had the papers sent back to his brother. But a sense of urgency plagued him. A need to make contact with the new owner of the property below his own offices, the space he had no plans to sell, until his brother called him.
Fucking Fates.