The Perfect Man

“I won’t say anything to her. For now.”

She felt a tinge of uneasiness. He’d qualified his statement, but she had a feeling that he would balk if she pushed him again. She’d take it because she really didn’t have a choice.

“Then we have a deal.” Renee held out her hand.

He grasped it. Heat seemed to smolder where their hands met. His grip was strong without being too overpowering. Unlike Marc’s hands, which were fairly smooth, his hands were firm and callused. Unwilling desire sparked inside of her. It was a feeling she hadn’t experienced in years. She raised her gaze to his and the heat spread quickly throughout her body. This was crazy, she thought and pulled her hand away. She didn’t know what it was about Chris that made her feel this way, but she couldn’t afford to think of him as anything but the man who was helping her find Aunt Gert’s necklace. As handsome as he was, he was the very last man she should trust.

“Deal,” he said.

It took everything within her not to sag in the chair like a Raggedy Ann doll. She’d been so afraid that he’d refuse to help her and then she’d be forced to admit to Aunt Gert that she’d brought a thief into her life.

“Great. I’ll get Terrell to draw up the contract so that we can get started.” For the first time in weeks, she felt as if she was finally going to get this situation straightened out.

“You don’t have to do that. I give you my word that I’ll look for the necklace.”

“No offense, but your brother has made me question everything people have told me. I’m taking no one’s word for anything. I insist on a contract between us.”

His expression went from relaxed to angry. She’d always considered brown eyes as warm, but icy fury filled his golden-brown eyes. “I’m not Marc, Mrs. Foster.” His voice was sharp and cold. “Send me the contract.” He rose to his feet.

There was no mistaking his anger. “Too bad you’re angry. You’ll have to get over it. This is very important to me and it’s urgent that the necklace is found quickly. I’m not taking any more chances and certainly not with you.”

He looked at her coldly and picked up the photo of the necklace. “I’ll get this back to you.”

“Keep it.” She bit the words off.

He slid the photo into an envelope and walked to the door. He turned toward her. “I’ll be in touch.” He opened the door and started to walk out.

“Not so fast.” She stood and walked around the table. He turned toward her and held open the door.

“I expect you to call me tomorrow.” She raised her chin at his frown and plowed on. “I also expect you to call me whenever you find something new. You’re going to have to work in Birmingham some of the time. I have an excellent computer network in my home. I want you to work there.”

He looked at her as if she’d turned into the Wicked Witch of the West. “I’ll call you. Soon.” His tone was cold, but his gaze even colder. He gave her a curt nod and walked out.

When the door closed, she finally let down her guard and her shoulders slumped under the weight and worry that had gripped her since learning the necklace was gone. She walked slowly to her chair and sat down. She’d gotten what she’d wanted in this meeting. She’d won the battle, but she wasn’t sure she’d win the war if Chris Foster was involved. She leaned back in the chair. Now that he was gone, she realized how tense she’d been. If he made her feel this way in an office, how was she going to feel when he came to her home? Renee tightened her lips. She’d deal with it. Like she’d dealt with every unpleasant thing she’d had to deal with since Marc’s death.

The door opened again and Terrell walked inside. “So do I need to draw up a contract?”

“Yes,” she said and sat up straight.

“Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

She looked at her friend and lawyer. “This is what I have to do. I don’t really have a choice if I want to find the necklace before Aunt Gert finds out it’s gone.”

“You should tell her about Marc. She’ll understand. This isn’t your fault.”

But it was. If she hadn’t married Marc, none of this would have happened. There was no way she was going to tell her what happened. Her great-aunt was the only family who cared for her and she wasn’t about to lose her. She couldn’t bear it if Aunt Gert treated her like her parents treated her. Renee wouldn’t take that chance.

“I brought Marc into her life. I’ve got to make this right.”

“You aren’t responsible for Marc’s actions. He’s responsible.”

She shook her head. “Let’s agree to disagree.”

Terrell raised one side of his mouth. “In other words, shut up and leave you alone.”

Renee shrugged her shoulders and smiled. Terrell understood her. She considered him and his sister, Karen, to be her only friends. But even with them, she never really completely let down her guard to be herself. People never wanted to see the real Renee. They only wanted to see the preconceived image, and that image couldn’t be hurt.

“Hey,” Terrell said. “Dad’s cooking out in two weeks and Mom said to tell you to come over around six and bring Miss Gert.”

“Okay, but I’ll have to check with Aunt Gert. She’s usually busy on the weekends.”

He shook his head. “I thought people slowed down when they got older.”

“Try explaining that to Aunt Gert.”

Renee called Alex when she arrived home. She’d been so busy contacting the jewelry stores in Birmingham trying to locate the necklace that she hadn’t thought to ask Alex or Danielle if they had it.

Alex was the youngest of the three women Marc had married. Because of her wealth and past party-girl lifestyle, she hadn’t taken Alex seriously when they’d first met. That had changed. She’d learned over the last few weeks that Alex had a generous heart and a fine business mind.

Alex and Chris’s friend, Hunter Smith, had worked together to recover the millions Marc had embezzled from Alex’s family business.

“Renee, I’m so glad you called. I was going to call you and Danielle tonight,” Alex said.

“Well, you can tell us now. Hang on. I’m going to add Danielle.” Danielle owned half of a large shipping company that her brother and his best friend, Tristan Adams, started before her brother’s death in Iraq. She’d been married to Marc the longest and was a former model.

“Hello, everyone,” Danielle said.

“I’m so excited. I’ve got good news,” Alex said.

“Well, tell us,” Renee said, needing some good news today.

“Hunter and I are getting married.”

“That’s wonderful,” Danielle said.

“Congratulations. I’m so glad everything worked out,” Renee said.

She and Danielle could see that Hunter had deep feelings for Alex when they were all on the yacht. They’d encouraged Alex to take a chance and to not let what happened with Marc stop her from finding love with Hunter.

“Oh, thank you. Little Sweetie and I are so happy and I want both of you to come to my wedding,” Alex said.

Renee smiled. Little Sweetie was Alex’s pampered Chihuahua whom she’d brought with her to Marc’s funeral.

“When are you getting married?” Danielle asked.

“We’re having a small ceremony on the yacht in two weeks,” Alex said.

“Two weeks?” Renee asked, surprised.

“I know it’s short notice but there’s no reason to wait,” Alex said.

“I’ll be there,” Danielle said.

“So will I, Alex,” Renee added.

“Oh, good. Having the two of you there will mean a lot to me,” Alex said. “Oh, but, Renee, you called me. What did you want to talk to us about?”

“I wanted to know if Marc gave you diamond jewelry other than your wedding ring,” Renee asked and waited anxiously for their response.

“No,” Danielle said.

“Me, either. Why?” Alex asked.

“I’m trying to find a piece of jewelry and I wondered if Marc had given it to you, but I guess he didn’t,” Renee replied. It had been worth a try.

“I’m sorry,” Alex said. Renee could hear the sadness in her voice.

“Don’t worry about it, Alex. You’ve got a wedding to plan. What do you wear to a wedding on a yacht?” Renee asked. She didn’t want bad news to spoil Alex’s announcement. She would tell them about Aunt Gert’s necklace after the wedding.

They yielded to Danielle, who’d been a fashion model and agreed to wear a nice dress before they ended the call.

Later that evening she’d placed two chocolate cakes on wire racks to cool when her cell phone rang. She wiped her hands on the vintage apron and removed the phone from the pocket of her skirt. She looked at the number on the screen and steadied herself.

“Hi, Aunt Gert. How was your day?” Aunt Gert and five of her friends had hired a van and a driver to take them to the casinos in Mississippi. She’d told her great-aunt that Marc had a younger brother and she was meeting with him about Marc’s estate. It was mostly the truth and would explain the time she’d have to spend with Chris Foster.

“Never mind about that. Tell me, how did your meeting with Marc’s brother go today?” Aunt Gert asked, her voice brimming with curiosity.

So much for stalling, she thought. She’d been expecting the question all evening. Aunt Gert had to be the nosiest person in the world. The older she got the more personal and blunt her questions became. She’d tried to get her to tone down her questions, but Aunt Gert had said to her, “I’m too darn old to be beating around the bush. If I want to know something I’m just going to ask.”

“It went fine. Both of us want to settle Marc’s estate as quickly as possible.” Okay, Chris wanted to settle the estate quickly and she wanted the necklace.

“So are you okay financially? Marc didn’t leave you in debt like Mrs. Hutton’s husband left her?”

“Oh, no, ma’am. There are just a couple of loose ends to finalize.”

“What kind of loose ends, and did you find out why Marc never told you he had a brother?”

Leave it to her aunt to get straight to the point. She wished she could tell her the truth and remove the weight of Marc’s betrayal from her shoulders. But she couldn’t. She was too afraid she’d lose the one person who hadn’t let her down, who hadn’t left her. “I don’t think they were close. He’s Marc’s younger brother.”

“They must have been close at some point for Marc to make him the executor.”

“I guess so.” Renee sighed. “At this point, I just want this whole thing over with.”

“I know you do, sweet girl.” Her tone softened. “You know if you need me, I’ll come back.”

“No. Don’t cut your trip short. I have got everything under control.”

“You don’t have to do everything yourself.”

“I’m not. Terrell is doing a great job of representing my best interests.”

“I’m sure he is. I’ll be back home next week. If there’s anything you want me to do just let me know.”

“I will, Aunt Gert.”

“Hmm. No you won’t. I’ll have to invite myself to do something, then you won’t have a choice but to let me help.”

Renee laughed. “I promise to let you help me.”

“See that you do. Love you much, Renee. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Good night.” Renee hit the off button and put the phone back in her pocket. She’d gotten off easy tonight. Usually Aunt Gert was focused when it came to asking questions and she had a lot of questions about Marc. Questions Renee couldn’t answer without risking Aunt Gert’s love. She didn’t know what it was about her that made her parents not love her. She’d spent years trying to be the kind of daughter they would love and in the end nothing she did made a difference. Aunt Gert loved the image she presented to the world and Renee had worked hard to never reveal her true self because no one loved the real Renee.

Gertrude Mitchell placed the cell phone on the nightstand and frowned.

“How’s Renee?”

Gert looked at the man she’d loved for most of her life. He lay back against the mound of extra pillows he always requested when they were together. He looked nothing like the bold young man she’d fallen in love with in New York. The doctors in Switzerland had done an excellent job of transforming gangster Ike “Big Ike” Henderson into now-retired businessman Dean Benson. They’d given him a new face, but the eyes were the same. Gert laid her head on his shoulder, enjoying the scent that was truly his own.

“Something’s bothering her and she’s trying hard to pretend everything is okay.”

“Is something going on with Marc’s estate?” He ran his hand along her shoulder.

“I don’t know if it’s Marc’s estate or Marc.” She placed her hand on his chest, indulging in the cool feel of the black silk robe. “Whatever it is, I’m going to make sure she doesn’t face this alone. You can best believe her selfish, no-good parents aren’t going to help her.”

He kissed her brow. “She’s lucky that she has you.”

“Yes, she is, and I’m lucky to have her. She deserves to be happy.”

“Wasn’t she happy with Marc?”

“I don’t think so. I know this business with the estate isn’t making her happy.”

“We’ll find a way to help her get through this.”

“I know.” She closed her eyes and enjoyed being held in his arms. They didn’t have much time left to spend together. He had an early-morning flight to his home in Switzerland tomorrow. “You will come to the dance in a few weeks, won’t you?”

He tightened his arms around her. “I’ll be at the dance. I want to see you wearing the necklace again.”

“I’ll wear it just for you.” Gert smiled and kissed his chin. She’d ask Renee to get the necklace from her safe deposit box before the dance. Her thoughts returned to her conversation with Renee.

Gert smiled and kissed his chin. One way or another she would find out what was bothering Renee.

Chapter 3

Renee looked at the Victorian-style clock that separated the biology and botany sections of the bookshelf across the room. At eight-thirty most Saturday mornings, she would still be in her pajamas and enjoying her first cup of coffee. Today, she had been awake since six o’clock, unable to sleep a minute longer. Chris Foster was coming to Birmingham to begin looking for the necklace. She’d been standing at the window waiting for a car to park in front of the house for the past five minutes. There was nothing else for her to do but wait.

She wanted to call and find out his exact location, but she could not bring herself to do it.

“He’ll be here,” she whispered. She turned back to the window. There was no reason for him to not show up. There’d been no reason for her parents not to show up at her school, either, but they hadn’t on so many occasions that she’d stopped expecting them by the time she was in the seventh grade. Unlike her parents, he had an incentive to come here.

He wanted to settle Marc’s estate as much as she wanted to find Aunt Gert’s necklace.

She’d spent every minute of her free time trying to put together all the information she could find on Marc’s travels for the last year. Renee, Danielle and Alex decided to work together and track his movements in hopes of trying to rectify the havoc Marc had played in their lives. Alex was missing about a million dollars that Marc had taken from her family’s business and her personal accounts. He’d taken the opportunity to have children with Danielle, and he’d taken Aunt Gert’s necklace from her.

Marc Foster had a lot to answer for. The anger she’d thought she’d released by beating the living daylights out of bread dough this morning still bubbled inside her. Every time she thought about Marc, she wanted to punch something. Yoga and meditation weren’t helping to release the rage she felt when she imagined how hurt Aunt Gert would be if she learned her necklace had been stolen.

Renee unclenched her hands and rubbed them on her black cotton pants. Getting mad wasn’t going to help. She left the window and walked across the thick rug to one of the sections of the wall-to-wall bookshelves.

She moved a book a quarter of an inch forward to line up with the rest of the books on the shelf. She couldn’t believe how anxious she was to have Chris in her home. With a sigh, she glanced at the clock again. Punctuality hadn’t been Marc’s strong suit. Neither had fidelity or truthfulness.

She tugged on the hem of her white cotton blouse that was still crisp and wrinkle free. It wouldn’t remain that way. No matter how hard she tried, her clothes ended up wrinkled or stained by the end of the day. One thing her parents had drilled into her was that appearances mattered, which was why they’d been so disappointed with her. Renee wasn’t the beautiful, socially adept child they’d tried to mold her to be. Instead they got an awkward child who was more interested in books and learning to cook than looking pretty on demand. She’d spent years trying to please her parents. Marc had accepted her for herself, or he’d pretended to accept her.

She could feel herself getting angrier just thinking about the way he’d lied to her just like her parents had lied when they said they were going to visit her in school. They never had. Renee walked across the room to a chair, slipped off her black clogs and sat down. She closed her eyes and tried to enter into her “peaceful” place, but peace was hard to find when you wanted to strangle someone who was already dead. After a minute she gave up and opened her eyes. She reached for the book on the table. Meditation wasn’t helping her to relax…maybe the latest murder mystery would.

Chris put his Explorer in Park and lowered his window. He didn’t need to check the address because he’d made a point of learning exactly where Renee lived on his last trip to Birmingham. The large, white Victorian house was unexpected. He knew she and Marc had lived in a condo in downtown Birmingham and as of yesterday, she still owned that property. He’d driven down several streets with rows of Victorian-style homes on large lots and sidewalks on either side of the street on the way here. Chris got out of the car. The sound of children laughing drifted from the backyard a few houses down.

This neighborhood was a long way from the falling-apart houses and apartments where he and Marc grew up. It was the kind of house a kid like him had dreamed of living in. How different would his life have been if he’d lived here? He shrugged then reached inside the car and grabbed his briefcase and a box of Marc’s possessions. That was the past. Now, home was wherever his next assignment took him. No strings. No obligations. No ties. Only the next assignment, or in this case, where his promise to Marc took him.

Heat enveloped him as he walked up the front walkway that was lined with a straight row of bushes thick with small, white flowers. As he climbed the short flight of stairs to the wraparound porch, he could smell the sweet scent of the flowers.

When he reached the door, he rang the doorbell and waited under the cooler shade of the porch. The cement floor had been painted the color of the reddish-brown Birmingham soil. A green mat in front of the door spelled Welcome in black letters. He waited a moment then rang the bell again. She couldn’t have forgotten that he was coming, of that he was sure. She’d even sent him an e-mail verifying the date and time of their meeting. The front door was solid and for her sake he was glad. Doors with fancy glass were pretty, but provided little protection if someone was trying to break in.

A few seconds later, Chris walked to the windows on the left. Heavy curtains blocked the view inside. He moved to the windows on the other side of the house and cupped a hand over his eyes. The lace curtains might as well have not been there for all the good they were doing. Four froufrou girly chairs were grouped together. In one of those chairs sat Renee Foster. She sat with one foot beneath her knee and the other leg swung lazily. Her pant leg bunched at the knee revealing her calf. A pair of geriatric black shoes sat at attention beside the chair. His gaze went to the bright blue nail polish on her feet.

She had the prettiest feet he’d ever seen. If they were as soft and smooth as they looked, why in the hell did she hide them in shoes that were just plain ugly? It made him wonder what else she was hiding. He let his gaze follow the arch of her foot, to her ankle and up the smooth curve of her calf. He felt a pull of desire and heat that had nothing to do with the summer weather. What the hell was wrong with him? All she was doing was reading a book and showing her calf and he was acting like she’d offered to strip naked for him.

“Hell, Foster. Get a grip,” he muttered. She was off-limits. Way off-limits. Chris rapped hard on the window. “Just find the damn necklace and get back to Atlanta.” He knocked harder, making the glass rattle from the force. She blinked as if coming awake after a long night’s sleep. She stared at him as if she didn’t recognize him for a second. Then color flooded her cheeks. He watched as she put the book facedown on the armrest and mouthed, “Be right there.”

Chris watched as she walked out of the room. Her black pants outlined the shape of her rear. He stood, enjoying the sway of her hips. If things were different he’d make a point of getting to know this woman. But things weren’t different. He turned from the window and walked to the door.

She opened the door and gestured him inside. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t hear the bell. I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

He stepped inside the foyer. Sunlight streamed in from a large second-story window and the sweet smell of chocolate reminded him of his favorite bakery in Los Angeles. He hoped she’d offer him a sample of whatever it was she’d baked. If it was as good as it smelled, it might make up for him leaving his apartment so early in the morning.

“I didn’t wait long,” he said. “You seemed to be really into your book. Do you always get so involved in your book that you don’t hear the doorbell?”

She closed the door and he saw the faint hint of color in her cheeks. “Not always, but I can pretty much tune out anything when I really get involved with a book. Do you want anything before we get started?”

Not really, but if getting a drink would get things started he’d take one. He shifted the box and nearly dropped it. “I’ll take anything cold.”

“Let me take your briefcase,” she said, reaching for the battered leather case.

Their hands touched briefly, but he could feel the touch as if he’d been branded. Only years of training kept him from jerking his hand away. She walked to the door opposite the library and opened it. “We’ll do most of our work in my office.”

Chris whistled low and long when he stepped inside. Her office was more like a computer lab. He counted at least five computers and various other types of equipment stacked on racks—lights flashed and blinked. All of the equipment looked brand-new. “I can see why you have your curtains closed for this room.”

“I like to play with my computers.”

He raised a brow and looked at her. “This is more than playing.”

“It’s not really,” she said, placing his briefcase on one of the desks. “I’m going to get something to drink before we get started. What would you like? I’ve got Coke, sweet tea, lemonade, ginger ale and water.”

“Tea’s fine.”

“I’ll be right back.” She turned and hurried out the door. He placed the box on the desk beside his briefcase and walked to a rack on the opposite side of the room. He knew enough about computers to know that Renee didn’t “play” with these computers. The equipment looked like top-of-the-line stuff.

When she’d mentioned her computer network, he thought she meant she had a relatively new home computer network. What he saw here was above and beyond the average home setup. There was nothing in her background check that mentioned her skill with computers. Math and library science—yes. If she was so good with computers why didn’t she work in that field? This bit of information played hell with him. Like the blue nail polish. He was beginning to think there was more to Renee Foster.

He turned when he heard her footsteps. She carried a good-size metal tray loaded with a pitcher of tea, two glasses and a plate of cookies. “Here, let me help you with that,” he said. He took the tray and set it down on the desk next to his briefcase. “You didn’t have to do this.”