Chapter Four

The ornately crafted, rich mahogany front door opened just as Trenton hit the red-brick landing of the home of Vincent Scott, his friend and attorney. Loud music slammed his eardrums. He offered a slight smile to the petite housekeeper whose brown eyes delivered an apologetic look.

“Mr. Scott will be right down. Would you like some coffee?”

“No, thank you.”

“Please make yourself comfortable. I was headed to the market.” She stepped out and closed the door behind her.

Trenton made his way into the living room.

“Trenton!” Vincent’s sister, Sasha, tossed her textbooks aside before springing up off the couch and rushing at him with arms outstretched.

“Good morning, young lady.” Welcoming her hug, he kissed her cheek, then drew back, getting a look at her—all arms and legs, and beautiful inside and out. “I’d swear you’re taller now than when I saw you about six months ago.”

“I’m still five ten and a half and don’t need to get any taller, that’s for sure. Unlike my high school, at least I’m not the tallest on campus. You should see this girl on the basketball team. She has to be seven feet tall.”

“How’s school? Enjoying your second year of college life?” He lifted his voice to be heard over the pounding beat.

“School’s school…studying for finals and all that jazz. I’m staying here for the weekend. My dormmate’s boyfriend is in town. They can get pretty loud.” She winked. “Trust me, I’ve seen enough of his pimply pale ass crack to last me a lifetime.”

Trenton laughed. Like Vincent, rarely did she censor her tongue. “You get to hang out with your big brother.”

She shrugged. “Free food, steady Wi-Fi, a heated pool with Jacuzzi, and a bar shelf that stays stocked…it’s a’ight, especially since he tends to work late hours.” Smooth lips curved upward, and features the color of a newly budded almond carried a hint of mischief.

“I’d enjoy her company more if she’d pick up after herself,” Vincent piped in on his way down the spiral staircase that fed into the kitchen. “Sasha, this isn’t your dorm.” He tapped the electronic pad on the wall, cutting short the resounding female-vocal hip-hop beat. “Put on your damn headphones.”

“Why are you hating on Django Jane? Cardi B is all that, but Janelle Monáe’s queen of hip hop if you ask me.”

“Not at nine in the morning. And keep your little ass away from any libations or I’ll take back my key, got it?” He kicked a pair of pink fuzzy slippers out of his path to the sink. “I didn’t hire Clarice to cook and serve you. You need to get a job.”

“Love you too, Vin.” She stuck her tongue out at him, and he shot her a narrow-eyed reprimand, yet a slight grin touched his lips. “I do pick up after myself.”

“You do not.”

Tossing waist-length, intricately patterned, rich auburn cornrows over both shoulders with a dramatic flair, she gave him an exaggerated white-toothed smile on her saunter back to the couch.

Watching the exchange, Trenton laughed, well aware Vincent would move heaven and earth for his baby sister.

He perched himself upon the leather-cushioned barstool, gave a look around the gourmet kitchen of polished maple wood finishes and out at the living area of warm creams and earth-tone furnishings. Everything in its place. “I’m in need of a housekeeper. Paulette gave her notice. She’s retiring. Think yours could recommend someone?”

Almond-brown features cool, stoic, Vincent delivered a look out over the grand space. “Sasha, the semester’s almost over. You need a job, and Trent needs a housekeeper. There, you have a job. Done.”

“What!” She gaped. “You can’t do that. Tell him, Trenton.”

Trenton looked between the pair and settled on Sasha’s stunned face. “I could use the help. Temporary, of course.” He grinned back at her scowl. “The pay’s good.”

“How much?” Her expression slid more to quizzical than irritated.

“Sasha!” Vincent growled.

“What? I just—”

“We’ll work out the compensation,” Trenton cut in. “I expected my brother would be here by now. He called this meeting. Hope there are no issues with the Dubai partnership,” he said to Vincent, mere seconds before Dominic strode into the room sporting a wide smile. He gave Sasha a hug, then set his black leather portfolio on the island counter and took a seat next to Trenton. They gripped palms and pulled into a hug. Trenton playfully shoved him at the shoulder. “What are you grinning about?”

“It’s a beautiful Saturday morning! Bro, bring the love.”

Typical Dominic. As kids, where Trenton had been considered the grouch, his stepbrother had been labeled the charmer in all things. Though the marriage between Dom’s mother and Trenton’s father ended after a ten-year stretch, he and Dom remained close.

Within the last year or so, Trenton had brought him on as COO of Shaw Enterprise. His brother could’ve just sat around and waited until he could milk off his trust fund in about a year, but instead Dominic Balaska chose to earn his keep, working his ass off. Trenton couldn’t have more respect for the guy.

Except for his dark hair standing in places at unruly angles—likely due to vigorous finger-combing—Dominic’s glacial blue eyes appeared exceptionally alert for someone who’d come off just shy of an eighteen-hour flight. “Have you even slept?” Trenton asked.

“Nope. I’m running on high-potency caffeine. Speaking of, Vin, buddy, can I get a cup of coffee?”

Vincent angled a nod at the Keurig. “Have at it.”

“Come on, bro, you’re closer. Hey, how about whipping up one of your kick-ass omelets?” Dominic pointed at the apple Danish pastries beneath the glass cake dome upon the counter. “And I’ll take two of those.”

“Coffee I got, but I’m not cooking you no damn omelet. Dude, you probably passed ten or more Starbucks to get here. You and Sasha both think the world revolves to your beat. Ass pains,” Vincent grumbled while prepping the Keurig.

“Why are you dragging me into this?” Sasha called from the couch.

“You know you missed me this week.” Dominic blew Vincent a kiss.

“About as much as I miss a tick on my ass,” Vincent returned.

Laughter broke out from everyone including Vincent.

Getting to the purpose of their meetup, Trenton turned to his brother. “You called this meeting, said it couldn’t wait. I hope you’re not about to tell me we lost investors for the Dubai condo bid?”

“Nope.” Dominic pulled papers from his portfolio. He handed a page to Trenton and slid the other across the smooth dark marble to Vincent. “I have a list of the individuals who’ll be bidding. You’ll be interested to learn who’s vying for a seat at the table.”

Trenton scanned the names. “No fuc—” He gave a look at Sasha.

Sasha rolled her eyes. “Trent, really? I’m not five.”

But she’d always be that little girl he often found glued to her brother’s hip.

“Sasha, go to your room,” Vincent ordered. “We need to discuss business.”

Noting the young lady’s easy dismissal of her brother when she stretched her legs out on the couch, Trenton turned back to Dom. “Alan Lange wants in on my Dubai partnership? He has protested my win of the Wharf bid three times.” Lange Industries’ annual revenue amounted to what Shaw Enterprise saw in earnings within the first quarter, yet Alan tried to compete with Trenton at every opportunity. The man had an odd, adversarial obsessiveness with him, one Trenton couldn’t understand.

“Four.” Vincent pulled three mugs from the cupboard and prepped a K-Carafe. “I’m scheduled in court next Wednesday. How the hell is Lange able to fund a deal that size? I’ve seen his company’s numbers. There’s no way.”

“Four damn times he’s protested the bid. He thinks I’d consider his company for my Dubai deal—shit, for anything at all? Not on his life. He’s the reason ground breaking on the Wharf was pushed to August first. He and that bakery building that sits smack in the way of my parking garage space. Both have stalled the project.”

“Yes, well now you’ll soon own the retail space. There’s nothing more they can do. My Wednesday court appearance is a mere formality. By the way, how was the party last night? Or did you even stay long enough to find out?” Vincent handed him a cup of coffee and set a cup along with a plate of the breakfast pastry in front of Dom.

“I met K. Avery Chase,” Trenton said before taking a sip.

Stilling his cup at his lips, Vincent set it upon the counter. “Shit, did security have to escort him out?”

“She, and no.”

“Pardon?”

“K. Avery Chase is a woman.”

Dominic choked a bit on the mouthful of dark-roasted chicory, swallowing hard, and Vincent tossed him a napkin to catch the pearl of liquid on his lip. “No fucking way!” Typical Dom. Expressing his surprise, he made no effort to self-censor. “Trent, I don’t know who you met last night, but I know damn well it wasn’t K. Avery Chase because he’s a sixtysomething-year-old African American man.”

“I’m speaking of his daughter, Kennedi Avery Chase. She’s named after her father.”

“Really? Are you serious?” Dominic laughed. “So, she’s K. Avery Chase Jr.?”

“Kennedi is spelled with an I, but I suppose in a way, yes.”

“Are you talking about K. Avery Chase, the dessert artist?”

Their heads turned to Sasha who’d piped into the conversation from her viewing perch on the couch.

“You know her?” Trenton asked.

“I know of her. She was on 'Cake Masters.'” At their combined perplexed stares, she supplemented with, “A group of us used to get together late at night to watch 'Cake Masters' when there was nothing else to do, or like after finals, to clear our heads. You know, veg out. One night we were watching the show, and there was a woman competing who said she was from the D.C. area. It was K. Avery Chase. She made it all the way to the final round but ended up in second place. We all felt her cake design of the Seven Wonders of the World had been spot-on.” Sasha rapidly tapped away on her computer and carried it over to the kitchen. “See, that Taj Mahal is on point. But she lost to this guy’s theme park design.” She shrugged a narrow shoulder expertly tatted with a butterfly. “I still say her design was way better.”

Trenton, Dominic, and Vincent studied the image of K. Avery Chase and her towering cake creation.

“That’s damn good work. Is it entirely edible?” Vincent asked, and Sasha nodded. He leaned back against the counter and sipped his coffee with an arm folded across the chest of his rough-worn Bob Marley T-shirt. “So, it’s been the daughter’s messages filling up my email inbox, not her father’s. That makes it difficult.”

“In what way?” Hunching forward to reach the glass cake dome, Dominic retrieved another pastry and chomped off nearly half.

“She’s trying to maintain a small business. I wish there was an alternative to tearing down the sista’s bakery.”

“When you thought it was her father you had no objection to disposing of the building,” Trenton said.

“Her father’s in the game like us. Literally. He runs a real estate investment firm. Nowhere near the dollar level of Shaw Enterprise, but he’s in the grind nonetheless.”

Trenton narrowed his attention on Kennedi’s face, remembering the feel of those satiny smooth lips, the taste of her tongue slipping over his, the silky soft glide of her skin beneath his fingertips, and how easily she’d made him want her. Sasha whisked the computer away, jolting him back from the night before.

“Sasha, go to your room. We have business to discuss,” Vincent said again.

“You have a home office for that,” she countered.

“And you have a dorm room at American University. Sasha Scott, go upstairs. Or out on the patio. Anywhere but here.” Her brother’s tone had been all command that time, and she quickly went about stacking up her books.

“Fine, I’ll go. Hey, Trenton, can you ask K. Avery Chase to design my graduation cake?” Sasha asked on her trot toward the kitchen spiral staircase. “I want a figurine of me wearing my cap and gown.”

“You’re a sophomore,” Vincent put in. “Try graduating first.”

“I’ll be a junior in the fall. I heard her schedule books up almost a year in advance. Come on, you can ask her, Vin. Her stuff’s the shit.” She turned her puppy-soft gaze on Trenton. “Uncle Trent, you can ask her. Please?”

“We’ll consider it, now go,” Vincent replied on a sigh and stroked a hand at the nape of his neatly trimmed fade.

When it was just the three of them, Trenton commented with a grin, “You know she still has you wrapped around her finger.”

“And she knows it. All and all, she’s a good kid. Still maintaining a stellar GPA.” His proud grin went wide for a moment, then flattened back to all business. “Now, you said you met Chase, and she didn’t chew you out?”

“Just the contrary. She wanted me to know what she was about. At least that’s what I took from our interaction. She’s well accomplished. That much, I’m certain.”

“And hot, from what I could see in that online pic,” Dom said as he stuck the remaining piece of pastry in his mouth.

Trenton was reminded of that red dress and how badly he’d wanted to lick from her white-tipped polished toes on up slender, forever-long legs to those satiny soft lips—and all before even knowing her name. It’d been quite some time since he’d felt such a massive surge level of attraction. He frowned, suddenly and oddly feeling territorial, but shoved it back. “That woman has stood in the way of breaking ground on the parking garage. The casino construction start date is scheduled and set. I need that garage to begin in tandem.”

“Rumor has it Chase Investments isn’t faring well. Did Chase Jr.—”

“Dude, cut it out.” Trenton shot a glowering look at his brother. “Her name’s Kennedi Chase.”

“What other reason would the man name his daughter after himself?” Dom shrugged a shoulder. “Whatever. Did Kennedi Chase say anything about her father’s company?”

“Somewhat. It’s struggling. She didn’t share much, but she’s running his company as well as her own, though she does have two partners in the bakery business.”

Vincent came out of his relaxed posture and splayed both hands atop the cool marble counter. “From the surveyor’s photos I received, that bakery of hers is one bolt short of crumbling to the ground. Why hold on to it, especially given that the lien on the property has a balloon payment due? I’ve looked into the store’s financials. She’s not in a position to pay it. You practically gave her, along with many on the Wharf, a way out. On that note, you’re telling us the woman wasn’t the slightest bit pissed with you, the man who’s about to demolish her bakery?”

“Chase Confections,” Trenton corrected.

“Pardon?” Vincent’s head cocked.

“Her store. It’s a custom cake design specialty boutique.” Both men stared back at him. “What? It’s a bakery, yes, but essentially she creates unique cakes and pastries. You saw her Seven Wonders of the World, and her website has—”

“You checked out her website?” A slow smile cut across Dominic’s mouth.

Vincent leaned forward with forearms braced upon the counter, his ridiculous grin just as annoying as Dom’s. “Sounds like you two had a pretty in-depth conversation.”

“We kissed.” Trenton had no idea why he let that tidbit of information slip from his lips.

“No fucking way!” Dominic shook his head rapidly. “I refuse to believe that. You’re aiming to tear down her store. No way she kissed you. And I thought you swore off women.”

Trenton frowned. “Swore off women? Where the hell did you get that idea?”

“Dom has a point…on both fronts. With all the shit you have going on with your ex, let’s just say the opposite sex hasn’t been on your radar for a while. That reminds me, I have to reschedule my meeting with her attorney. The time conflicts with my court appearance to settle the Wharf matter.”

“Don’t reschedule. I’ll meet with Baldwell. The sooner this shit is behind me the better. And it’s been more of a hiatus,” Trenton said, bringing them back on topic. “Why would I lie about a kiss? She and I started talking. I was bored and thought she could alleviate it.”

“The question then should be why would she kiss you?” Vincent asked. “What sort of game is she playing?” Trenton’s buddy for nearly twenty years, Vincent was now also his attorney. And always the skeptic, wearing his lawyer apron, the man looked for a motive. “Did you do more than that?”

Trenton damn sure wanted to. “I invited her to my suite. That, of course, was before I knew who she was.” Again, they delivered puzzled stares. He sighed. “It’s a long story, one for another day.” Recalling how smoking hot Kennedi Chase looked in that thread of a dress, using her seduction, he had to give her props for the way she went about it. “I’m aware her approach last night was meant to soften me about pursuing her retail space.”

“I’ll start digging into Chase Investments to see if there’s something I can use that’ll—” Vincent started.

“No need,” Trenton countered. “I’ve already asked Carol to pull P and L data on the father’s company.” His assistant was thorough and would get him what he needed.

“What about Lange?” Dom asked.

Trenton took a sip of his now tepid coffee. “You stay on the Dubai deal. I’ll have William find out where Alan Lange is getting his funds to participate.”

“Are you sure you need your head of security on this?” Vincent asked.

“William’s on assignment in Vegas trying to ferret those untraceable bills that flowed through Shaw’s over the past month,” Dom supplied.

“Have him delegate the Vegas matter to someone else. Lange may be trying to sabotage the Dubai partnership somehow. If there’s something there, William will sniff it out.”

“Regarding Kennedi Chase, what are your plans?” Vincent asked.

“I have something in mind. Come Monday morning, I’ll be paying Miss Chase a visit.”

“Good morning, Kenni. Sleep okay?”

“Morning, and not really.” Carrying her running shoes, Kennedi dragged her tired limbs into the kitchen, dropped down in a chair at the table and hunched over to slip them on her socked feet. “I can’t find my purple Nike sports bra. I hate this one. It’s too damn tight.” She tugged at the shoulder band, which had already started to cut a groove into her skin.

The white furry head that poked out between her ankles startled her.

“Dixie, what are you doing?” She scooped Tabitha’s dwarf bunny from beneath the chair, adorable dark eyes staring back at her. “Where’s your brother?”

“Percy’s under the table.” Tabitha retrieved him. “I was letting them stretch their legs a bit after they ate.” She took Dixie and placed the pair back in their cage tucked beside the couch. “Jeff tried to keep my babies,” she said on her way back into the kitchen.

Her friend had been forced to trade some of her furniture and favorite knickknacks to her ex, Jeffrey, in exchange for the rabbits. Selfish, vindictive prick. Kennedi never cared much for him. Between ovarian cancer leaving Tabitha with one semi-functioning ovary, a miscarriage, and her ex-fiancé breaking up with her three days before their wedding, she had suffered and lost so much.

“Here, I made you a protein smoothie.” Tabitha set the green drink on the table within reach. “Your bra is hanging in the laundry room. I did a load last night after you went to bed.”

Kennedi looked up while tying her sneakers to see Tabitha fling forward over her right shoulder her waist-length, no muss/no fuss, glossy dark locks and whip the thick curls into a braid in between munching on a banana. Hazel eyes bright, makeup free, café au lait complexion plump and dewy—how was it her friend always managed to look gorgeous, even after a sixteen-hour work schedule the day before? Both wore multicolored sports bras, black running shorts, and well-used Asics on their feet. Tabitha appeared ready to take on a triathlon. Kennedi, however, felt prepped to tackle her Sleep Number mattress.

Telling herself to get it in gear, she took a couple sips of the breakfast drink before adjusting her trusty gray sweatband and tightened her braided bun atop her head.

“Tab, sorry I overslept. I know you wanted to set out early. I had a hard time falling asleep.” Kennedi was certain the heaviness of her eyes gave witness to her claim. Trenton Shaw was to blame. She’d tossed and turned all night thinking about him and how his lips had skillfully brushed over hers in a sweet caress. The way his tongue toyed and danced with hers. The way her skin tingled from the barest touch of his fingers.

“No worries.” Tabitha glanced at her Apple watch while dropping her banana peel into the trash. “It’s only ten to eight. Let’s stay on Beach Drive, then cut across Rock Creek Park toward the Capitol. That’ll give us a good sixteen-mile stretch. Hey, earth to Kenni?”

Kennedi’s head sprang up, her weary thoughts far away.

“If you’re not up to ride—”

“No. I mean, yes, I need the exercise, plus it’ll help clear my head.”

“That makes two of us.” Tabitha strode past her into the laundry room. “I’ve already racked the bikes.”

“I kissed Trenton Shaw,” Kennedi blurted.

Tabitha stepped back into the kitchen carrying metallic pink and purple bike helmets along with their reflective vests. She regarded Kennedi in gaping silence.

“Tab, say something.”

“You kissed Trenton Shaw? So you did go through with it.” Tabitha shook her head. “What the hell?”

“No, I didn’t go through with it. We started talking. We danced and—”

“You danced with him?” Her friend delivered a side-eye. “You never said you two danced.”

“Yes, we danced…” Kennedi brought up an index finger. “Just one dance. Then I was on my way out, but he followed me.” She palmed her suddenly perspiring forehead, appreciating her headband’s assistance. “He’s not quite how I pictured him.”

“Oh really? I’ll tell you how I see him.” Tabitha’s voice lifted an octave. “I see a rich prick ready to literally bulldoze our company to the ground.”

Had Kennedi allowed Shaw’s charm and the mere warm glide of his lips steer her away from her objective? “He gave me his card. I intend to contact him first thing Monday morning.” Rigid silence followed for a long moment, then Kennedi went to Tabitha and touched her arm, offering small reassurance. “I know what’s at stake.”

“You’re sure? Because I’m starting to wonder.” Tabitha narrow-eyed her closely. “You can’t let him get the upper hand. The moment he thinks you’re weak, he’ll crush you.”

Kennedi felt the undercurrent of a much deeper battle her friend was dealing with and took her hand, giving it a light squeeze. “I got this. Don’t worry.”

After a moment, both cut small smiles, reaffirming their strong sisterhood.

Kennedi took in several large gulps of her energy boost breakfast drink on her cross to the fridge for their water bottles. “Don’t forget I need to stop by the store later to finish up the anniversary cake for Monday’s pickup.”

“Got it.” Tabitha handed over the purple helmet and vest on their way to the entry door. “Ready to burn some calories? I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”

“More than ready.”