Hitting the Right Note (35 page)

“Well, this was fun,” Sydney said in a tone that said the exact opposite. “But I see some people I need to speak with.”

Sydney excused herself from the group and made her way to the opposite side of the room toward the mayor's wife. She had only met the woman once, but Sydney had heard they had an anniversary coming up soon. It was time to get reacquainted, and get away from the one man who could make her forget what she really came here for.

 

By the time the hands on her watch were both sitting at eleven, Sydney was exhausted and completely out of business cards.

“Leaving already?” She was only steps from the door, and he was only steps in front of her.

“This was business, not pleasure.”

Hayden's eyes sparkled with mischief. “All work and no play makes Sydney a dull girl.”

This time her mouth turned up in a smile. “I think you know me better than that.”

His grin widened in a way that assured her that he did. “Remind me.”

She shook her head and pointed her tiny purse at him.

“I'm not doing this here with you, Dub.”

He stepped closer and she felt the heat from his body surround her. “We can always go somewhere else. Like the Banjara a couple blocks away.”

Sydney scowled. Him and his inside knowledge.

“If we leave now we can get there before it closes.”

She folded her arms over her midsection. “I haven't changed my mind, Dub.”

He grinned. “That's not what your stomach says.”

Sydney glanced behind him, and he turned around to see that Samantha was only a few feet away and headed in his direction. Sydney wasn't sure what string of events had put Samantha and Hayden together that night. The woman was definitely not his type. Or at least she didn't think Samantha was.

“I think your date is coming to get you,” Sydney said, her voice dripping with amusement. “Maybe
she
wants to go for Indian food.”

“How about I walk you to your car?”

Without waiting for a response, he put a hand on the small of her back and eased her out the large doors into the lobby and toward the elevator.

“What's the rush?” she teased.

“Still got that smart mouth, don't you.”

“I thought that was what you liked about me,” she said innocently, as he led her into the waiting elevator.

“See, that's what you always got wrong, Nini.” He leaned toward her ear to whisper and she caught a whiff of his cologne. “It was never just one thing.”

Sydney tried to play it off, but she couldn't help the way her breathing went shallow as her heart sped up. And she couldn't keep him from noticing it, either.

His eyes fell to her lips. “So what's it going to be, Syd? You, me, and something spicy?”

He was only inches away from her. So close that if she leaned in, she could . . .

“Hayden!”

A familiar voice in the distance triggered her good sense. Sydney stepped forward and placed her hands on his chest.

“I think you're a bit busy tonight.”

She pushed him out of the elevator and hit the
DOOR CLOSE
button.

He grinned and shook his head as she waved at him through the gap between the closing doors.

“I'll see you soon, Nini.”

For reasons she refused to think about, she hoped he kept that promise.

C
hloe scanned the incredibly packed sanctuary and groaned. The only seats available were in the balcony, and that just wouldn't do. Chloe wanted to kick herself for not gassing up her Benz the night before. That extra fourteen minutes at the gas station had probably made all the difference. Now, instead of sitting close enough to her next husband that he could smell her Chanel No. 5, she would be in the rafters with the nonim-portant attendees . . . unless she could convince one of the ushers to seat her in front, where she so obviously belonged.

Chloe weighed her choices. One of the center aisles was being guarded by a white-haired woman with a body like a Baltimore Ravens lineman and a glare to match. Chloe immediately decided against her. She was likely immune to any of Chloe's charms and would probably have her removed from the sanctuary for trying to sidestep the rules.

The other center aisle was being handled by a distinguished and handsome man of about fifty years. Every few seconds he wiped tears from his eyes. He probably knew the recently departed Chandra Chambers personally. Had probably dined with the family in that gigantic mansion off West Paces Ferry Road, right smack in the middle of Atlanta's old money. He was, without question, Chloe's mark.

Chloe stumbled down the aisle, tears flowing freely, and soft sobs escaping every few seconds. The sensitive usher approached her and touched her arm.

“I'm so sorry, miss, but there are no more seats in the main sanctuary. You'll have to sit in the overflow.”

Chloe nodded and placed one hand on her chest. As she'd hoped, the usher's gaze followed her hand to her slightly surgically enhanced, sufficiently heaving and bronzed bosom.

“I know,” Chloe said in a throaty whisper, “but I just want to look at Chandra one more time. We were roommates at Spelman, and she was just like a sister to me.”

The usher looked unsure, so Chloe went in for the kill. “When she was sick, she asked me to look after her babies for her. How can I do that from the balcony?”

This settled it for the usher. Chloe was sure he believed every word of her emotional speech. And why wouldn't he? Who would lie at a funeral about the wishes of the deceased?

Only a desperate person.

And as much as Chloe hated to admit it, she was desperate, and her socialite status was in severe jeopardy. She had just a couple hundred thousand dollars in the bank, which enabled her to strategize without getting a nine to five, but it wouldn't keep her in the society circles she'd infiltrated with her late fiancé. Walter had been a billionaire. She'd met him on the beach in St. Bart's one holiday. Although he was seventy-eight, Walter was spry and sexy, and he'd given Chloe everything her heart had desired. Well . . . almost everything. He'd never made her his bride, and when he died suddenly of an aneurysm, Walter's children unceremoniously threw Chloe out on her behind. All she had left was the sum of the gifts he'd given her—a fully furnished townhouse, several large diamonds and other jewels, and a car.

Chloe tried not to draw too much attention to herself as she followed the usher down to the front row. She wanted to be remembered by only one person—Quentin. The lineman usher scowled, but Chloe's friendly usher made room for her on the aisle. None of the family paid attention to the extra person in their pew. In fact, the family seemed to be in a tearful haze. Quentin looked especially hopeless, but even still, his incredible good looks made Chloe's heart skip a beat. His caramel skin seemed to glow as tears coursed down his face.

Chloe wanted to reach out and comfort him, pull him to her saline plumped breasts and caress his pain away.

Yes, Chloe did believe she would have her some of Quentin Chambers. And his millions.