Unforgettable (6 page)

“Does that mean I have to get her approval or yours?”

At her sarcastic tone, his gaze jerked up to hers. “I'm not in the mood for this, Nora. Your band here is costing me money. Money I'm not at all sure we're going to be able to recoup.”

She sighed. “I know they're rough around the edges, but they're rappers. They're from the streets.”

“What are you talking about? Two of them went to Ivy League schools. There's nothing hard core about that.”

“Then they're trying to create an image in order to be taken seriously in this genre.”

He tossed up his hands. “Are you going to have an excuse for everything?”

Another strained smile. “That depends on whether you're ever going to cut me some slack.”

He frowned as he stared at her. “Why are you making this personal? This is business. Your band is out of control. We've spent two weeks on a video that was slated for two days. I have a problem with that—a serious problem. The last thing I want to hear is you asking me to spend even more money on them.”

“They're stars. You've heard their music,” she defended.

“Talent doesn't impress me as much as bankability. You should know that.”

Nora conceded his point, but she wasn't too happy over the whole situation. The Delinquents were her first band signed to the label and she desperately wanted to make them a hit. Their success meant her success and would prove once and for all that she belonged at T&B Entertainment.

However, working beside one of the hottest men in the business was proving to be quite a distraction. Every woman at the company, whether she admitted it or not, wanted to be the one to tame Casanova Brown. Nora was no exception.

So far she wasn't making any headway, but they were going to be in New York for at least another day. She'd managed to snag him for a “business” dinner, and she had every intention of having Marcel for dessert, as well.

P
arked outside her boss's sprawling estate, Diana took a few minutes to question her sanity. This wasn't the first time she'd been to Marcel's home. Usually when she had to make a pit stop here, someone was here to control the dog.

Why in the world did she agree to do this when she was terrified of dogs? Then again, Solomon Bassett could sell a blind man a set of Braille-less encyclopedias.

“Just go in there and get it over with,” she coached herself, but made no move for the door. Closing her eyes, she exhaled a long breath. At this rate, both she and the dog would die of starvation.

“Brandy is just a baby,” she said, quoting Solomon. Maybe if she said the lie enough times she'd start to believe it. After ten minutes, she ditched that idea, too.

She started up the car. Someone else would have to
do this. There was just no way she could conquer this fear. Retrieving her cell phone, she dialed Marcel's cell from memory.

Marcel answered on the first ring.

“You're going have to get someone else to feed your dog. I can't do it,” she said with more anger than she intended.

“Diana?”

“Yes, it's me.” She swallowed.

“What do you mean you can't feed Brandy? Where is Juanita?”

“Family emergency. Solomon asked me to feed Brandy, but I'm terrified of dogs,” she rambled on.

Marcel sighed. “Okay, calm down. Let me think.”

Diana did as he instructed, while guilt trickled down her spine. What did she expect him to do when he was in New York?

On the other side of the line, she heard megaphones and music playing. He was still working. “Look, I know this is short notice, but I can't get the image of being mauled to death out of my head.”

“By Brandy?” He laughed. “I promise you, she wouldn't hurt a fly. You have to believe me on that.”

“I'm sorry,” she repeated, starting the car. “But I can't do it.”

Marcel's frustration seeped through the line. “We can't let her starve.”

“I'm not suggesting that. It's just…well, I had a bad experience with a dog once.”

“You were bitten?” His voice filled with instant concern.

His concern was probably manufactured to calm her down—and it was working. “When I was a teenager, my grandmother had a neighbor with a rotweiler.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, his name was Killer, of all things. And he was constantly barking and growling at everyone that walked past. I felt safe as long as he was behind the fence.”

“Don't tell me. He escaped?” Marcel guessed.

“Dug a hole and crawled out. I swear he must have chased me ten blocks.”

“Did he bite you?”

“Bite me? He couldn't catch me,” she deadpanned. “When the dust cleared my grandmother insisted I join the track team in high school.”

Marcel laughed. “Okay, then you can do this. If you want, I can even stay on the phone with you while you go into the house.”

“What are you supposed to do over the phone?”

“I don't know.” He sighed. “Give support?”

She shook her head. “Your dog needs to eat and I'm being silly.”

“Well, I'd appreciate it if you could feed her. First thing in the morning I can see if I can find someone else to take care of her. Who knows, Juanita might be finished dealing with her emergency.”

She agreed, but her heart was already beginning to pound hard. “Are you sure she's not going to attack me?”

“Trust me,” he said. “I wouldn't lie to you.”

Believing him, she drew a deep breath. “Okay, I'll go in there.”
What the hell am I saying?

“Do you need me to stay on the phone with you?”

“Nah, I think I can handle it.”
Someone shut me up.

After a long pause he asked, “Are you sure?”

Another lengthy silence stretched between them before she shut off the engine.

“Diana?”

“Yeah, I'm sure. I'll call you back if there's a problem.” She quickly ended the call before she wound up promising to adopt the damn dog.

A few minutes later, she stood outside Marcel's front door, rubbing her sweaty palms against her slacks. “He promised she wouldn't hurt you. He wouldn't lie.” Though a part of her still believed prayers fell on deaf ears, she prayed anyway.

She extracted the house key and the security code from her purse. “Just be calm, cool and collected,” she coached herself. “Dogs can sense fear.”

She slipped the key into the lock, but it took her another moment to try and enter the premises. Determination instead of courage came to her rescue and she finally pushed open the door.

Once inside, she quickly found the alarm system's keypad where she nervously entered the pass code.
So far so good.
Diana breathed in a little easier, but when she turned away from the wall, her heart plummeted to her toes.

Brandy's coal-black eyes glittered as she stared at the intruder.

Diana tried not to stare pointedly into the dog's almond-shaped eyes. She read somewhere that aggressive dogs found that threatening. Slowly, her gaze slid down
Brandy's slick, solid black coat, and then the rust markings on her head, chest and legs.

A baby, my ass.

Brandy cocked her head as if she was confused by Diana's presence.

Diana swallowed, but a lump of fear remained lodged in her throat. “H-hello there.” She forced a smile, but felt silly when the dog just continued to stare.

“Okay, I'm going to, uh, get you some food and let you run around outside for a little bit. Would you like that?”

Woof!

Diana jumped and nearly started crying.
Stay calm.
“I can't stay calm.”
Yes, you can.
Arguing with herself was definitely a sign that she was indeed losing her marbles.

Brandy cocked her head in the other direction and then sat back on her haunches.

This had to be a good sign, Diana decided and relaxed long enough for her lungs to start working again. Familiar with the house's layout, she realized she had to work her way around the dog in order to make it to the kitchen or even to the back door.

When her cell phone rang from inside her purse, she jumped and Brandy barked again. Diana's hand quickly covered her heart as if the act would prevent it from leaping out of her chest cavity.

Brandy's barking grew louder with each ring of the phone, but Diana was too nervous to reach for the thing and shut it off. If she died now, how long would it take
for someone to wrestle her lifeless body from this
baby's
ferocious mouth?

To her relief, the phone stopped ringing and Brandy lowered back onto her haunches.

“Okay, I'm going to the kitchen now,” she said, but was really asking for permission.

Brandy just watched her.

Diana extended one leg and took her first step. When nothing happened, she was encouraged to take another. At this rate, she'd make it to the kitchen by Christmas. The fact the dog hadn't attacked her yet should have relaxed her, but logic never quite sounded like logic at times like these.

Easing next to the dog, she was grateful that her knocking knees didn't set off another barking frenzy or worse—a violent attack.

However, she didn't know what to think when Brandy turned and quietly trotted behind her to the back door. Diana unlocked and slid the glass door open and Brandy crossed the threshold hardly sparing Diana a glance.

Diana closed the door and almost collapsed into a heap on the floor. Instead, she hurried into the kitchen and quickly prepared the dog's dinner and refilled the water pail. “So far so good,” she mumbled under her breath and went to let the dog back inside.

Brandy jetted inside and made a beeline straight into the kitchen as if she knew what would be waiting for her.

Diana rushed to relock the glass door and was about
to head back toward the front door when she stepped on a squeaky toy and bent to pick it up.

That was her first mistake.

 

Marcel couldn't sit still. His conversation with Diana had him more than a little concerned. Mostly, he didn't understand why she'd agreed to feed Brandy in the first place. It was either courageous or stupid. He wasn't sure which.

He dialed her cell phone again and frowned when he didn't get an answer.

“What's wrong?” Nora asked, rejoining him and handing him a steaming cup of coffee.

“Nothing, I hope.” He accepted the offered cup, but couldn't pull his thoughts away from Diana. “Look, you don't mind just having dinner with Solomon tonight, do you?”

She straightened in alarm. “Solomon? I didn't know he was joining us.”

“Well, we had some business to discuss and I didn't see anything wrong with trying to kill two birds with one stone. But now I think I need to get back home.”

“What? Why?”

“At the moment, I'm a little concerned about my secretary.”

“Diana?”

“Yeah. She went to feed Brandy today and she's terrified of dogs.” A small laugh escaped him.

Nora shrugged. “So? She's a big girl.”

He shrugged as well. “She's not answering her cell phone so I'm worried.”

“I don't see what the big deal is,” she argued. “Just send someone over to check on her.”

Marcel frowned. “Why are you getting so worked up? I've been up here for two weeks. The director promised he'd wrap this shoot by tonight. There's no reason for me to stay.”

“But I needed to talk with you.”

“You know,” he said, crossing his arms, “Solomon is vice president of the company. He's more than capable of handling whatever issue you might have.” He walked away, shaking his head.

Thwarting Nora's cat-and-mouse games was a challenge at times…but fun. How many times had he told her he made it a policy not to get involved with his employees? He frowned as Charlie opened the door to his limousine. If that was true, then why was he racing back to Atlanta to see Diana Guy?

T
im and Caleb stopped by Diana's apartment only to find a worried Louisa.

At six-four, Caleb was often hailed as a take-charge kind of guy. In no time, he calmed Lou down enough for her to tell them the last time she'd talked to Diana.

When Tim heard Diana had left her office eight hours ago, he, too, grew concerned. It wasn't like Diana not to check in. She was always reliable, dependable and responsible. Something had to have happened.

“Maybe we should call the police,” Tim suggested.

Lou unfolded her wrinkled tissue and dabbed her eyes dry. “I've already done that. They left here an hour ago, but they said there was nothing they could do until she'd been missing for twenty-four hours.”

“Maybe she's out with some of her girlfriends from the job,” Caleb suggested.

“She doesn't have girlfriends,” Lou said.

“None?”

“None,” Lou and Tim answered in unison.

Caleb fell silent as he digested that information. His new career in international sales and marketing kept him out of town so he didn't know Diana as well as his partner.

“Then let's pile in the car and retrace her steps,” Caleb said. “That's gotta be better than sitting around twirling our thumbs.”

“What if she calls?” Lou asked, her eyes filling with tears.

“She's right,” Tim said. “Someone should be here if she does call.”

Caleb nodded. “All right. You two stay here and I'll go. She still works for T&B Entertainment, right?”

Lou jumped to her feet and wrapped her short arms around the man she often called a gentle giant. “Oh, thank you. I'll feel so much better knowing someone is actually out there looking for her.”

Caleb looped his large arms around her as well and gave her an affectionate squeeze. “I'll bring her back home.”

 

Marcel wasn't able to leave New York immediately. But he left his personal assistant, Wayne, behind to tidy up any loose ends. By the time his private jet touched down just after midnight he was exhausted. Dreams of a much-needed vacation drifted lazily across his mind.

He fell asleep in the limo, with dreams of the beautiful island of Bermuda seducing him with its white
sandy beaches to dance the night away with bronzed beauties.

“Sir, were you expecting someone tonight?” Charlie's voice filtered through the speaker and jarred him from his deep sleep.

“What?”

“There's a car here.”

Frowning, Marcel pried his eyes open and rolled down his window. At the sight of Diana's car, he was instantly alert.

Before the limo rolled to a complete stop, Marcel was out of the vehicle and racing toward the front door. “Diana,” he shouted as the door banged open.

Brandy's bark resonated from upstairs and he quickly headed in that direction. Halfway up, he discovered a purse and its contents scattered across the stairs.

“What in the hell?” He looked up and slowly continued on. “Diana?”

“Sir, is there a problem?” Charlie asked from the front door.

“I'll know in a minute.”

Brandy bounded out of a bedroom, a toy squeaking loudly from between her teeth.

“Hey, girl. How are you doing?” He walked up to her and scratched behind her ears. “Where's Diana?”

Brandy dropped her toy and cocked her head.

“Show me where the nice lady is,” he said.

Like a good girl, Brandy turned around and went back into the bedroom.

Marcel followed and frowned when she'd stopped in
front of a closet, but he cautiously went to it and opened the door.

At the sudden scream, Marcel jumped back and Brandy barked.

“Keep her away from me,” Diana yelled and uncurled from the closet floor to slam the door closed again.

It took Marcel a second to process what he'd just seen: his secretary transformed into a hysterical crazy woman. “Diana?”

“I mean it, Marcel. Make her go away.”

He looked down at Brandy, who lifted hurtful eyes toward him. “Sorry, girl. Go on downstairs.”

Brandy hung her head and padded out of the room.

Marcel walked over to the bedroom door and closed it. “All right, Diana. She's gone.” He heard some rustling before the closet door squeaked open.

“Are you sure she's gone?”

He moved back to the closet and the utter terror on her face squeezed his heart. “She's downstairs. My God, how long have you been in there?”

“I'm not sure.” Diana timidly eased out of the closet, looking nothing like his well-put-together secretary, but more like a tousled mess with dazed eyes.

There was a soft knock on the door. “Sir, is everything all right?”

“Yes, Charlie. Everything is fine,” Marcel called out. “Ms. Guy was just frightened. She's going to be just fine.”

“Yes, sir.”

Marcel draped his arm around Diana and pulled her
close. “Come over here and sit down,” he said, leading her over to the room's king-size bed.

Once she was settled, he was at a loss for what he should do next. “Uh, can I get you something? Do you need a doctor or anything?”

Diana took several breaths, seemingly to calm herself down before being able to focus on him. Then, she came up swinging. “You said that she wouldn't attack me,” she screamed, swatting his arms, chest and whatever else her hands landed on. “You lied.”

“What? Wait! Whoa!” Marcel tried to dodge out of the way, but was unsuccessful. Instead, he waited for her to get it all out, which, thank heavens, didn't take long.

“Do you know how terrified I was?” She slumped back onto the bed. “I thought I was going to die in that closet.”

The dark angry flush to Diana's cheeks, the bright sparkle in her eyes, and the wild tussle of her hair gave his prim and proper secretary the look of a seductive siren, which struck a chord with him. A nice chord.

He cleared his throat and tried to shake the direction of his thoughts. “I think maybe you might have overreacted.”

“Overreacted!” Her eyes widened. “You've got to be kidding. Your
baby
chased me around the entire house barking and nipping at my heels.”

Marcel frowned. “Brandy?”

“No, Lassie. Of course, Brandy. She was going to rip me to shreds.”

“Brandy?”

“Yes, Brandy. Will you stop asking that?”

“I'm sorry, but it just doesn't sound like something she would do.”

“What? You think I'm making this up or something?” Her anger started refueling itself.

He held up his hands. “No, no. I'm not saying that. It's just—”

“Then what are you saying?” Her hands jabbed at her hips.

Marcel took a deep breath while trying to figure out another way to handle this. “Why don't you just tell me what happened?”

Reining in her temper, Diana told him everything that had transpired after their call.

“You picked up one of her toys?” He stopped her in the middle of her story.

She shrugged. “It was lying in the middle of the floor.”

A smile wobbled at the corners of his lips. “Tell me,” he said, crossing his arms. “When she was chasing you throughout the house, did you still have the toy in your hand?”

Diana frowned. “I don't know. I guess so.”

“That explains it.” Marcel laughed. “She wasn't attacking you. She was playing.”

His laughter deepened but Diana just glared at him. “Do I look like I'm amused?”

“Ah, no.” All humor evaporated from his face. “You look sort of pissed.”

“That's because I am.” She stood up from the bed again. “Don't ever ask me to do this again. And I'm
shooting Solomon on sight.” Storming past him, she went back to the closet and then walked around. “What did I do with my purse?”

“You dropped it on the stairs,” he said, walking behind her as she headed out of the bedroom.

“Figures. I'm out of here.” She jerked open the door, but then screamed, slammed it and leaped against Marcel.

His body instantly became alert with the cute bundle enfolded in his arms. He was suddenly aware of the soft fragrance in her hair and the sweet scent of vanilla on her skin. She couldn't possibly know how sexy she looked right now. “What is it?” he asked, his heart slamming against his rib cage.

“She's outside the door.”

“Who?”

“Your dog!”

Her eyes darkened to sparkling jewels again and Marcel wondered what she would do if he kissed her right now. It was a stupid and wild idea that appealed and concerned him. “I'll go put her up,” he said, but struggled to pull his gaze away from her.

Diana moved away from the door while Marcel waltzed past her and out of the door as she struggled to bring her breathing back to normal. For a moment there, she wasn't sure if her heart was pounding because of the dog or how Marcel had looked at her.

Being near Marcel often clouded her thinking and her ability to process rational thought became an arduous chore, but she could have sworn there was something
more to the way he'd just looked at her. In fact, she couldn't remember him ever looking at her like that.

“You're imagining things,” she said, shaking her head. But a part of her wasn't so sure.