Breach of Honor by Naomi Porter
4 Will
THE HUSTLE AND bustle of Ocean Avenue lulled me into a peaceful trance, the Pacific Ocean in the backdrop. In the sky, I saw her blue eyes staring back at me while Jennifer was on her knees. Six days later, I still shuddered in disgust over the only memory the lady in red would have of me. I, on the other hand, had the pleasure of dreaming of her and her sexy dress each night.
At least I could be with her in my dreams.
A soft, triple-tap echoed, pulling me out of my fantasy, as my mother’s classic and familiar knock did every time. I stood when the door opened.
“Good morning, gorgeous.” She beamed, looking all of thirty though she was nearing fifty-five. Ever the most graceful and enchanting woman I’d known.
“Mother, it’s wonderful to see you. To what do I owe the honor of this unexpected visit?”
“Always my charmer. I’m here to ask you to attend the gala meeting.”
I screwed up my face. The gala meeting didn’t interest me at all.
“William, as part of SJI and your grooming to take over after your father retires, you need to know every aspect of the company’s dealings, even the parties we host.”
I sighed, thinking up an excuse as quickly as possible. “What time is the meeting?”
“Eleven o’clock.”
“Oh, damn. I’m sorry but I can’t make it. Jason’s dropping by the office and we’re going to lunch. He leaves tomorrow.”
She blinked her espresso-colored eyes, not buying my excuse.
“I promise I’ll make the next meeting.”
“You may not think the gala is important, but it is, William. We host this major event for our investors. Without them, SJI would be nothing and we would not have the lavish lifestyle we are accustomed to. This is extremely important.”
I walked over to her, wrapping my arms around her. “I agree completely, Mother. I know the value of our clients. I’ll be at the next meeting.”
“Very well,” she conceded. She sat down on the leather sofa, and my heart rate accelerated. Whenever she took a seat, it meant she had something on her mind. I joined her, as expected.
“Was there something else?”
“Who are you bringing as your guest to the gala?”
I didn’t see that question coming. She knew I wasn’t dating anyone; I was never dating anyone. “Well, you of course. Dad can find his own date,” I jested.
She laughed warm-heartedly, pressing her hand to my cheek. “Such a charmer. Now seriously, who are you bringing?”
“You know I’m not seeing anyone. Would you like me to acquire an escort?”
She gasped. “William! That’s not funny. If anyone discovered you paid for a date… the media would have a field day!” She shook her head incredulously.
“Relax, dearest.” I patted her hand. “Maybe Simone has a friend I can bring.” She flicked her gaze my way. “What? Simone’s friends are all attractive and respectable socialites.”
“I know they are, but I worry you’d give them false hope or give the tabloids something to talk about. You’re quite a catch,” she said proudly.
“It wouldn’t be a real date where I take her back to my place.” I winked. “I’d make that very clear, even in front of cameras. Besides, the gala is months away. I have time to find a proper date.”
“Four months is not a long time, William. Given your track record, I’m not confident you’d take the task of finding a date prudently.”
“I can find a suitable date. Honestly…” I shook my head. Track record?
She shrugged unconvinced. “Well, I don’t have time to chat about your non-existent dating life.” She stood, confidently poised to conquer the world. She was wearing a beautiful black-and-white striped dress, black stilettos, and her dark hair in a low bun. Claire St. James was the epitome of class. “Don’t forget we’re having a special dinner for Simone’s birthday on Sunday.”
“Yes, I’ll be there.” And I would. Simone was my only sister, a few years younger than me, and I loved her very much.
“Alone.” It wasn’t a question. She tucked her clutch under her arm as I escorted her to the door. She kissed both of my cheeks as the French did. “William, you know I love you dearly.”
I nodded.
“I just want to see you happily settled. And that doesn’t mean marriage.”
“I know. Yes, alone on Sunday.”
“Very well. Have a lovely day.” She patted my cheek and was gone.
I returned to my executive chair, plopped onto the seat, and threw my head back. Some might have called me a manwhore. I’d bet my mother did, given her standards. But I didn’t sleep with every woman I met, sometimes it was just a drink and kissing. Most of my unsavory behaviors happened after my dad pissed me off.
That was no excuse, but it was what drove me to have the occasional one-night stand.
After my mom’s flippant comment about my track record, I held my tongue. Upsetting her with an excuse she’d somehow take personally wasn’t worth it. I adored my mother. Never would I intentionally hurt her.
But the truth was, she’d find something wrong with every woman I brought home.
The angel in red flashed in my head. I had a feeling Mumsy would like her. It was just my luck that I’d never get to find out.
Miranda
The St. James Investment Building was one of the most beautiful I’d been in. I arrived with fifteen minutes to spare, giving me plenty of time to calm down before the meeting. My sling-back kitten heels clicked on the marble floor, echoing inside the three-story lobby as I approached the security desk.
“Hello,” I greeted the guard. “My name is Miranda Bradford of LA Premier Events. I have an eleven o’clock meeting with Claire St. James.”
“Welcome, Miss Bradford. May I see some identification?”
“Absolutely.” I dug my wallet out while scanning the modern yet elegant décor: black, chrome, lots of crystal, and what I guessed was the company logo, SJI, in gold. A lot of money had been spent decorating this building.
Minutes later, I was in an elevator heading up to the twelfth floor with a mysterious, almost scary-looking man dressed in all black. Everything about him was dark, even his beard had an evil quality. He reminded me of the devil.
“You seem familiar. Have we met before?” he asked.
“No, I don’t believe we have. This is my first time here.”
He nodded, checking me out lazily. My skin crawled as he looked on me pleasurably.
The elevator dinged, and I darted out before the man in black. He lagged several feet behind me, checking out my ass no doubt. Served me right. I should have worn the A-line dress instead of the camel-and-black houndstooth pencil skirt.
Stop it, Miranda! Lily would have a massive fit. I could hear her scolding me for that thought. Of course, she’d be right. So, I shook it off. He didn’t get a pass to act like a pig no matter what I was wearing.
Once I checked in at the receptionist’s desk, I was taken to a sprawling conference room with breathtaking views of the ocean out the wall of windows. It was the sort of million-dollar view I dreamed of having.
Seated at a long glass table for twenty, I pulled out my notes and iPad, preparing to sell my designs.
Typically, I was not a praying kind of woman, but this meeting required all the help I could get. I asked the big guy upstairs to bring me favor, then I took several cleansing breaths and waited for Claire St. James and whomever else to arrive.