Sex and Lies

Blake grimaced. “I’m a married man.”

“I really don’t think she cares.”

“Is it that obvious that she’s…”

“I’ll put it this way, even Stevie Wonder could see it.”

Blake shook his head. “I’m trying to keep this all on the up and up. The last thing I need is to get our wires crossed.”

“Like I said, she doesn’t care. But, hey, if you don’t want it feel free to send her in my direction. I sure as hell wouldn’t throw her out of bed.”

Steve was a notorious hound from back in their college days at Moorehouse University. He’d slowed down just a little when they headed off to MIT for grad school where they received their engineering and architectural degrees, but Steven still needed a secretary to keep up with the women he dated. Not much had changed in the years since. It totally escaped Blake why Tristan had latched on to him and not Steven who was single and always available.

“She’s having some kind of gathering at her penthouse next week.”

“You know how I love hotsy-totsy parties,” he joked.

“Yeah, anyway, she’s supposed to send over the information to Jasmine. Said she has some people she wants me to meet—potential business.”

Steven nodded. “Cool. I’ll pencil her in. Wonder if she is going to have any of her rich, single girlfriends around.”

Blake held up his hand. “Don’t even think about it. I don’t want to screw up this deal when some fling of yours goes bad—as they tend to do.”

Steven held his hand to his chest. “You wound me, dawg. Can I help it if I have a short attention span and the ladies can’t take goodbye for an answer?”

“Whatever. Just don’t mess this up.”

“I don’t think it’s me you have to worry about. Ms. Thing isn’t one to take no for an answer and sooner or later she’s gonna want yours.”

Blake shot him a look of disregard but the truth of the matter was that Steven was right.

Chapter 3

S avannah’s three-inch heels clicked like shotgun fire against the concrete of the underground employee parking lot. Her navy blue skirt suit with the pristine white tank top and a strand of real pearls around her slender neck gave her the appearance of the legal eagle she could easily become.

For a woman of only five foot five she had a long stride. She swore it came from her devout adherence to Pilates. She believed she could use all the help she could get in keeping her weight under control and giving her compact body more of a sleek and lean appearance. And as she had come to discover since becoming a member of TLC, looks were definitely deceiving.

She used her remote to disengage the alarm on her black SUV and hopped up inside. The garage had a few cars left of those still burning the after-hour oil. She checked the dashboard clock against her watch—seven-forty. She cussed under her breath and put the SUV in gear, her skirt rising up her thighs to a provocative level. She’d wound up staying longer than she’d planned and now she would really have to make double-time.

Quickly maneuvering around pillars and yellow directional arrows, she used her monthly pass card and zipped up the exit ramp and out into the approaching twilight. As she made her way to the FDR she silently prayed that traffic would be light. She entered the FDR from 34th street and went north. Thankfully there was an open lane and she grinned as she watched the speedometer climb to 70 mph. At that pace she’d reach Harlem in about fifteen minutes.

In record time, she pulled onto the street that housed TLC headquarters, which was tucked away in an upscale brownstone directly across the street from the Pause for Men day spa. If she wasn’t a married woman she could certainly spend her free time man watching with all the hotties that came in and out of there. Of course, parking was at a premium and it took her another five minutes to find a spot a block away.

Savannah checked in at reception, showing her ID, and then went upstairs to where the meeting was being held.

The main room was buzzing with chatter from the members of TLC who were using the time to catch up and share stories before the formal meeting began. Savannah waved to Leslie and Dina, two of the women she recognized. They were both high up in the ranking, having been part of TLC for about five years. As a result they got the best assignments. Savannah’s goal was to one day be on par with both of them.

She walked over to the refreshment table and poured herself a cup of fruit punch just as Claudia came up behind her.

“I was wondering when you were going to get here.”

Savannah turned to see her mother. As always Claudia Martin was ready for her close-up. Claudia, unlike Savannah was tall and still slender. Her skin was butter soft, the color of warm honey and so flawless the only makeup she ever used was lipstick and mascara. Both mother and daughter loved clothes by St. John and Claudia wore hers well. Tonight she chose a red jersey sheath with a matching jacket. Gold was her accessory.

Savannah leaned up and kissed her mother’s cheek. “Richard had a last-minute project.”

Claudia made a face. “What else is new? One of these days you need to tell him just where he can go.”

“Mom!” Savannah scoffed and bit back a laugh. “He’s my boss and it’s my job.”

Claudia waved off the comment. “Humph.”

“Ladies, if everyone could take their seats we’re ready to get started,” Leslie announced from the small podium.

Claudia grabbed Savannah by the arm and hustled her to the front. “I got us a spot on the antique loveseat.”

The main room or ballroom of the brownstone was set up like an English parlor, with heavily decorated seating in a variety of brocades and velvets, crystal chandeliers, mahogany tables, gilded mirrors and a marble fireplace. It was like stepping back in time.

Savannah and Claudia took their seats. After several moments of shuffling and jockeying, the rest of the women found seats and settled down. As Savannah surveyed the assemblage she was still intrigued by the array of women who made up TLC—everything from business executives to fashion models, housewives to single mothers and in all shapes, sizes and nationalities. To everyone outside of the elite organization TLC meant Tender Loving Care body products and its members were the equivalent of Avon or Amway sales reps. They were far from it.

“The June meeting of The Ladies Cartel will now come to order,” Leslie announced. “We have a great deal to cover tonight—old business and new assignments.”

Claudia squeezed Savannah’s hand with anticipation. Savannah felt the rush of adrenaline. If she was lucky she would get her first assignment. She’d only been with the organization for a little under a year but in that time she’d made great strides in learning the intricacies of the Cartel’s operation; self-defense techniques, surveillance equipment and how to shoot a gun if necessary. She’d been recruited by her mother and she couldn’t have been more stunned than if her mother announced that she was indeed Santa Claus.

It was a Saturday afternoon; mother and daughter were in the local supermarket shopping for their annual Fourth of July barbecue. As they were loading their packages into Savannah’s SUV, Claudia out of the blue said that she was a member of a secret organization.

“What?” Savannah laughed. “What secret organization, shoppers anonymous?” Claudia was a relentless shopper, her passion for clothes and home furnishings boggled Savannah’s mind.

“I’m serious,” she said. “And I have been allowed to recruit someone and I want that someone to be you.”

“Ma, what in the world are you talking about?” Savannah put the last bag in the car and got in behind the wheel. She put on her designer sunglasses and pulled off.

“Just listen. Four years ago I met a woman in my exercise class, Dina Fleming. She told me about this group of women who are hired to perform a variety of jobs—mostly surveillance but sometimes it’s more involved. It could be anything from posing as a girlfriend to getting hired at a business to find out about illegal practices.”

Savannah turned to her mother in disbelief, peering at her over the top of her shades.

“I’ve done several jobs myself,” she said with pride.

“Are you kidding me?”

“No. Remember the big scandal about the child-care agency about a year ago?”

Savannah frowned as she tried to remember. “Sort of, why?”

“I worked that case.”

Savannah tossed her head back and laughed. “Stop playing.”

“I’m very serious. There are about thirty women who are part of the Cartel—in the New York chapter. For those outside of the circle they believe we are no more than a group of women who sell skin-care and body products. No one ever suspects us, that’s why we’re so successful at what we do.”