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Path To Passion
Path To Passion
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Path To Passion

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Toward the end of their second semester, they’d gotten really close, and she could’ve sworn he’d liked her way more than a friend. But every time she looked at him, she remembered the forty pounds she needed to lose before a guy like him would even consider dating her. How many times had she attempted to lose weight to be more attractive to him? Every time she’d started a diet, the pounds she’d lost would rebound when she fell into a state of temptation.

What she’d detested him for was the fact that he’d humiliated her when finally she’d summoned the courage to tell him she loved him just before she’d graduated.

Why hadn’t she sought her best friend, Becca’s, opinion on it before exposing herself? That’s right, her stubborn self had already made up her mind and nothing would stop her. Becca may have told her to forgo the plan of revealing her true feelings for Miguel, which would’ve saved her from mind-numbing humiliation. Although the experience had left a lingering ache in her chest every time she thought about it, at least she never had to wonder how Miguel felt about her.

His rejection still rang in her ears. He’d never seen her as anything more than Josh’s older sister and a friend as he dated every woman on campus. At least she’d had sense to tell him how she felt just before graduation. The timing saved her from ever having to see him again.

Tanya gripped the steering wheel and took deep, controlled breaths. No need to dredge up the past when there was nothing she could do about it. The focus should be on fixing her business so she wouldn’t end up living in her car or, worse: moving in with her parents. In order to do that, she had to get out of the car, walk down the block to the fifteen-story Astacio building and ask advice from a man she’d once allowed to destroy her.

No big deal.

Chapter 2 (#u415ec6e1-ab39-5ed2-916a-8be4022b4524)

The fact that her brother had suggested and arranged this meeting with the king of marketing had forced Tanya to drag herself out of the vehicle, smooth her knee-length down coat and speed walk to the Astacio building so she wouldn’t be late. Just because Josh had had to convince her to attend didn’t mean she was stupid enough to annoy the marketing director by being late. What had she been thinking sitting in the car for so long?

The trepidation and mortification she should’ve gotten over a long time ago had held her bound. She made it to the ninth floor of the building with one minute to spare. The space reminded her of what she’d learned about him over the years. The word vivid came to mind. Weren’t offices supposed to be sedate and understated? No one must have given Miguel the message, because the reception area was the polar opposite of traditional.

Bright blues, yellows, greens and reds interspersed with white would’ve made teaching primary colors to a kindergartner fun and exciting. She blinked as she looked down at her conservative navy blue skirt suit with the maroon-colored silk blouse. She felt more than a little out of place.

She gasped as she turned to the right and saw what appeared to be a Jackson Pollock in matching colors to the office. Was it real? Just as she was about to step closer to the painting, the receptionist said, “Good afternoon. How may I help you?” His grin spoke of more than just politeness. He was amused by her reaction. His red suit and white dress shirt adorned with a canary-yellow pocket square fit right in with the trendy atmosphere.

“Hi. My name is Tanya Carrington and I have an appointment with Mr. Miguel Astacio.”

“Please have a seat. I’ll let him know you’re here.”

She nodded and sat, gripping her purse on her lap. For the hundredth time, she asked herself if she really needed Miguel’s help. She’d been in worse situations than having her livelihood snatched away. When had she started lying to herself? She’d never been in such dire straits. Josh seemed to think Miguel could help, so she’d trusted him and consented to him calling his best friend. Besides, she’d transitioned into a confident woman who ran a restaurant and nightclub. Did it matter that it was failing miserably and she was spiraling into a near-debilitating debt?

“He’ll see you now, Ms. Carrington,” the stylish receptionist announced.

She swallowed hard with a longing look at the watercooler as she forced a smile to her face. “Thank you,” she said while standing on shaky legs, making sure not to trip in her comfortable wedge heels. With the aim of going into the lion’s den with a strictly professional mentality, she ran through a couple of her favorite affirmations. I am worthy. I am great. I am successful.

When she stepped into the large office to see the man who’d broken her heart with his callousness years ago, feelings of self-doubt rammed into her like a linebacker. One last thought rolled into her mind: I am screwed.

* * *

Miguel had lowered the heat, yet his fingers had difficulty grasping his pen due to the excessive sweat. He figured the busy look would be best when Tanya walked in. Unfortunately, a shaky pen due to his trembling hands was too telling, so he lay it down and waited for her to walk in while pretending to read a document.

The woman who entered could’ve been a swimsuit model with her full hips and breasts, emphasized by a slim waist. His gaze settled on her flawless medium-brown complexion and lingered. Her beauty stunned him. Large onyx eyes stared at him from beneath finely arched brows. Her light hand with the makeup emphasized her sculpted cheekbones and succulent lips. Who was this woman and where was Tanya? He watched the door she’d closed and waited for Josh’s sister to follow behind.

“Good afternoon,” the stranger greeted.

He started at the sound of the familiar voice, and he snagged in a sharp breath. “Tanya?” he whispered. This gorgeous woman couldn’t be her.

Her eyes turned cold although she smiled while extending her hand. “Good to see you again, Mr. Astacio.”

The hard tone of her voice indicated otherwise. Pulling himself together, he ignored her hand the same way he did her lie. After how he’d treated her back in college, she’d probably never wanted to see him again, but at least he’d been honest. He extended his arms out to her, not missing the way she shrank away even though his smile was genuine. “There’s no Mr. Astacio among us. Bring it in.”

Instead of coming forward as expected, she stepped back, reached for his right hand and pumped it up and down.

Once again, the woman had shocked him. Everyone wanted a piece of him when he was willing to give it and yet she’d rejected his embrace. One thing hadn’t changed between them, though. The zap of electricity that hit him had been present every time they’d accidentally touched.

Her eyes widened and her nostrils flared for a beat with her sharp inhale before she pulled her hand free. “It’s been a long time.”

Unable to get over how much she’d changed, he continued to stare, wondering why he’d never known such a transformation had occurred. What good would it have done to ask Josh about her when he’d made the ultimate choice to maintain their friendship instead of pursuing a relationship? They didn’t run in the same circles so he never saw her. “You look amazing.”

Shifting from one foot to the other revealed her nervousness. “Thank you.”

“I’m being rude.” He waved a hand toward one of the two maroon leather chairs in front of his dark oak wood desk. “Please have a seat.”

She nodded, perched on the edge of the chair and crossed her legs at the ankles. Her long skirt suit exposed no skin. Most women who came to see him for a favor wore midthigh dresses and didn’t sit as demurely. He wondered if he should be pleased or disappointed by her conservative demeanor. It would’ve been nice to see more of her legs. They’d always been beautiful.

His breath got stuck in his throat as their gazes locked. “You look amazing.” Hadn’t he said that already? Perhaps he was dehydrated from the excessive sweating he’d done before her arrival. “Can I get you some water? A drink?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but then shut it and shook her head. “No, thank you.”

What had she been about to say? The woman he’d known in college had always spoken her mind, yet another trait he’d appreciated. And then he remembered that she’d come to see him because her nightclub was in deep financial trouble.

He strode to the refrigerator hidden within a dark varnished cabinet that matched the rest of the furniture, pulled out a bottle of water and downed half of it before returning to his side of the desk. How should he play it with her? Keep it strictly professional or treat her like a friend? Asking her on a long-awaited date was out of the question. Nothing had changed and he refused to ruin the incredible friendship with Josh. Tanya was still off-limits. No matter how exceptional she looked or made his heart race.

She opened her bag and took out a notebook and pen. “Thank you very much for seeing me. I’ll get right to the point so as not to waste your time.”

Had her voice always been so husky? He’d remembered a lot about her, but not that. He nodded in response.

“It’s no secret you’re the marketing expert of your family’s successful conglomeration. You can take any product, rebrand it and make it fly off the shelves.” Her throat bobbed with her swallow, and he wondered if she was rethinking declining the offer of a drink. “You’ve done it with food products such as your chocolate puff cereal and malt drink, your children’s multivitamins and quite recently, you’ve catapulted your newly launched watch line into the must-have category for the rich and famous. Time magazine said you had the ‘Midas-branding touch.’”

Should he be impressed she’d done her homework? Once again, he had to stop comparing her to most women. She’d always shone above the rest.

For the first time since walking into his office, her smile seemed sincere. “You had the gift even back in college. Thanks to you, the football, baseball and women’s volleyball teams got a whole new look from the money you helped them raise through getting students involved in fund-raisers. And when their looks changed, the next year so did their performance. It was nothing short of brilliant.”

He hadn’t realized she’d been aware of what he’d done.

Tanya continued her speech. “Toshia Covington bragged about your role in reviving her party-planning business. She said if it hadn’t been for you, none of her husband’s money would’ve done her any good in providing CPR for her business. She said she would’ve pumped it in only for it to flow back out.”

The clenching of his stomach didn’t bode well. How did she know his sister’s best friend? And even more disconcerting was how she knew he was the one who’d helped her. “Are you friends with Toshia?”

The hard shake of her head sent her thick wavy hair flying over her shoulders. “I’ve never met her. She gave an interview in Black Women Entrepreneur magazine and sang your praises.” She crinkled her brow. “I’m surprised you didn’t have people knocking down your door to tap into your branding acumen.”

He chuckled as his body relaxed. The fear of stalkers was a real thing in his life, and he never took it for granted when someone had more information on him than they should. “I did. I had to take a trip to Argentina and then Jamaica to get away from the stress. Poor Franklin.”

“Franklin?”

“My assistant. He absorbed the brunt of it.” At her slight frown of disappointment, he rushed on to explain, “I rewarded him with a fully paid vacation to a place of his choosing once everything died down. And besides, I was scheduled to take those trips a couple of weeks later for business—I just happened to push up the dates.” Why was he defending himself? She was supposed to be impressing him, not the other way around. After clearing his throat, he asked, “What can I help you with?”

She gained an inch when she straightened her back. “Since you’re an expert when it comes to reviving products which are sorely in need of rebranding, I was wondering...” Her eyes flicked to the left toward the view of the downtown Cleveland skyline and then roamed over the room until it reached him again with her mouth open.

He hid his amused smile behind his hand. Had she only just noticed this office? Would she comment or continue with her paused presentation? Most people noted the stark difference between his conservative decor and that of the reception area as they stepped into his office. She’d lost a point for not observing it right away. But then again, would he have noticed if he’d been in her position?

Seeming to recover, she continued her spiel. “Would you kindly give me some tips on how I can revamp my nightclub back into one of the happening spots in Cleveland? If it could become a hot spot in Ohio, that would be great. And if we could have people from all over the Great Lakes region coming to party there, that would be fantastic.” She clasped her hands over the notepad and watched him.

He couldn’t help laughing. She may have matured into an alluring woman, but her honesty and forthrightness of speech hadn’t changed. He appreciated it more than she’d ever know. “Before I agree to anything, I have some questions for you.”

How her whole body proceeded to stiffen even more was a mystery. Maybe she needed some time to get accustomed to him. He picked up his water and took a sip before resting his elbows against his desk in as relaxed a manner as he could convey. “How does a computer-science major who barely socialized in college because she was studying so much come to own a nightclub?”

At her loud gulp and widened eyes, he swore she’d jump up and sprint out the room. Her eyes then turned sad enough to clench his heart, and he knew that the next words out of her mouth would shake up his world.

Chapter 3 (#u415ec6e1-ab39-5ed2-916a-8be4022b4524)

Even if Tanya had analyzed every picture she could’ve found of Miguel on the internet, she still wouldn’t have been ready to meet him again live and in person. His persona claimed the space, swallowing her into his charm. She felt overwhelmed and drawn in at the same time. Only it wasn’t where she wanted to be.

When she’d been sitting comfortably behind her desk at her nine-to-five computer-programming job, she’d found absolutely no joy in her work, but at least it had paid her on a weekly basis. She’d never appreciated money coming in at a steady rate as she did when it was no longer happening. When had things gone so horribly wrong in her life?

The moment Miguel had rejected her during her senior year of college. That’s when she could pinpoint it to. The irony of coming full circle wasn’t lost on her. Once again, he could turn her away, only this time she’d go without breaking apart.

Since he wanted an explanation before providing his much-needed assistance, she’d give him the truth. After living with the illusion of having a perfect marriage with her ex-husband, she was done with hiding. Besides, she doubted such a busy man would make the time to help her when he had a whole marketing department to run. How was he even able to party as much as the media claimed?

Her heart thumped hard as she assessed him. Miguel hadn’t changed and yet he had. She thought he’d been hot in college. She’d been wrong. His body had filled out and his face had matured to the point of being devastating. The full head of curly hair she’d rubbed her hands through once, eliciting a moan of satisfaction from him, still beckoned her. Why had she listened to her brother? It had been a ridiculous idea to meet with him.

She picked up the notebook and jammed it into her bag, unable to be in the same room anymore without the memories flooding back and once again trampling her heart. To stop thinking about him, she took in the space of his office again. A dark expensive-looking desk, classic leather chairs and couches, all set off with a light peach–colored wall. The area was the total opposite of the waiting area and she wondered at the difference. Which one represented him?

Did it matter? She squirmed in her seat as unease refused to release its hold. She’d made a mistake coming to him and now she had to go. She’d exonerate her debt to the bank by selling her four-bedroom Victorian house that she’d paid off before the divorce.

Making it on her own sounded better than being slapped with the past every time she looked at him. Miguel should’ve been the man she’d ended up with; instead, she’d fallen into the arms of Broderick. Her ex-husband had set up the perfect marriage by making her lack for nothing. Not support, pampering, nor what she’d thought had been love. It had hurt to realize he’d used her. Her heart throbbed at what her life could’ve been if Miguel had claimed her in college.

Standing, she clutched her bag to her chest, hoping to suffocate the pain. “I’m sorry I’ve wasted your time, but thank you for agreeing to meet with me.” She pivoted and walked toward the door. Before she could reach it, Miguel had sprinted across the room to block her path.

“What’s wrong?” A shiver rolled down her spine. His voice had always been able to dig deep into her, eliciting a reaction.

She stared at his chest so he wouldn’t be able to decipher her lie. “Nothing. I just figured out a way to get the club back into the black.”

He hooked one of his elegant fingers under her chin and lifted her head until she looked into his eyes. His touch held her spellbound as her heart pounded with longing. Remembering who she was dealing with, she stepped out of his grasp and held on to the back of the chair she’d vacated so her weak knees wouldn’t buckle and land her in a heap at his feet.

“Have a seat,” he ordered.

She bristled. Who did he think he was? “No. I’m leaving.”

“I don’t think so.” Miguel strode to his desk and made the leather chair squeak under his weight. “Are you aware of how much Josh told me about your situation?”

Her legs decided they didn’t want to support her anymore, so she rounded the chair and collapsed. Her brother wouldn’t have divulged everything.

The neatly trimmed goatee made a bristling sound as he rubbed it. “Josh mentioned you were at risk of losing the club you and Broderick had purchased together.” His eyes narrowed the slightest bit. “You helped him and his partner, Jordan, to purchase the club by allowing him to use your house as collateral.”

Was he judging her for wholeheartedly supporting her ex-husband’s dream?

His light gaze held hers. “Under Broderick’s management, The Palace thrived. I even went there a couple of times.”

Her jaw dropped open.

“Why are you so surprised? We were on the same football team in college.”

Her ex had kept a lot of things from her, but what did it matter if Miguel had come to the club? Maybe Broderick had remembered how she’d cried on his shoulder after Miguel had blatantly rejected her and didn’t want to dredge up the horrific memories. It wouldn’t have mattered because the memory was always a heartbeat away, tormenting her, even after all this time. She couldn’t figure out why she’d never been able to get Miguel out of her mind and had stopped fighting it. Ten years was too damn long to hold on to someone.

Miguel opened a folder to reveal a graph with colorful squiggly lines. He pointed to a low dip and tapped on it. “He’d kept the club in the black within four months of opening it and then six months ago things went south. What happened?”

Her gaze flittered to the hidden refrigerator as her mouth dried. Why hadn’t she said yes to the water he’d offered earlier instead of letting her pride direct her answer? She didn’t want anything from him, so if she could deny whatever he offered, other than his help to get her out of this muddle, then she’d decline.

May as well come clean about her shoddy ownership skills. Air filled her lungs with her deep inhale before she released it. “We got divorced and the club and house went to me.”

His brows crinkled together and his voice lost a bit of its bass when he asked, “Why?”

Was the question regarding the divorce or the settlement? Did she need this embarrassment? Walking out would be easier. If she ran fast enough, he wouldn’t be able to catch her, but she liked her home and wanted to continue living in it for the foreseeable future. “Because the house belonged to me. I had purchased it in my name long before we got married three years ago. When he wanted to start up the club, I believed in him and used the house as collateral.”

He flipped his large hands over. She remembered the heat they’d elicited in her as he’d caressed her skin that night back in college. She shoved the thought away. “I don’t understand. Couldn’t he have paid you off? Or at the very least, you could’ve sold the club and split the profits.”

Clasping her hands together until a knuckle cracked did nothing to remove the nervous flutter from her belly. What would he think of her? That she was a loser. A little white lie wouldn’t hurt. “He insisted I keep it.” Of course he’d said it in a sarcastic, challenging tone, but her prideful self had taken him up on it. It hadn’t helped that she’d wanted him to suffer for ruining her life the way he had. How hard could it be to run a business? Not difficult with a background in finance and marketing, and six years working as the manager of a thriving club in Boston. Broderick had that experience; unfortunately, she didn’t. Where he’d made their place fly, it was flopping under her incompetent control.

Miguel shook his head and narrowed his hazel eyes. “So you’re saying that even though he’d poured his heart and soul into the club, he was willing to give it to you straight out?”

She twirled the strap of her bag as she struggled to maintain eye contact. His steady gaze had been her undoing every time she’d tried to lie to him. It turned out his eyes still had the same power of drawing out the truth when it came to her, but if she could hold on for a few more seconds, then maybe he’d be willing to let it all go. Seconds passed before the words spewed out. “I fought him for the club. With the help of my parents and my brother, I paid off his business partner so I could own it outright when the judge awarded me with it.”

Before he could ask any more questions, she held up a hand. “It turns out that a woman can get almost anything she wants when her husband is unfaithful—” she paused for the dramatic effect the moment deserved “—with the man he divorces her for once he’s able to marry him.”

Her admission seemed to have knocked Miguel for a loop as he slammed his back into the seat and stared at her. Speechless.

At least she hadn’t been the only one fooled by her ex. He’d been a master at hiding his homosexuality. “Now he’s out of the closet and ecstatic. By the way, his business partner, now husband, is who I had to buy out and when I slid the check over to them, Broderick wished me the best of luck with a condescending ‘You’re going to fail big-time’ snarl. He didn’t think I could run the place. He’d told me so on numerous occasions throughout the divorce proceedings.” She crossed her arms over her chest. His attitude had irked her to the point of spite. Just because she hadn’t been able to keep him satisfied as a wife didn’t mean she’d fail at the venture, even though her heart wasn’t really in it. Pride was named one of the deadly sins for a reason. “I couldn’t have him take away my chance at a family along with bursting my ego, so I decided to prove him wrong.”

The room pulsed with the unstated words of her failure. To her revulsion, tears stung the backs of her eyes, and she tried to swallow the lump of disappointment, which had come from nowhere and refused to leave. She had to get out of there before she embarrassed herself even further. This time she didn’t speak as she jumped out the chair and ran toward the door. She knew for certain now that coming to the man who’d driven her into Broderick’s arms in the first place had been a colossal mistake.

Firm hands held her by the shoulders and turned her around before she could grip the handle of the door. When he pulled her in close, she pressed her hands against his chest and tried to push away. She really did, but ended up gripping the lapels of his suit jacket so she could rest her head against his broad chest.

For the first time since the night he’d destroyed her, she released the pain she’d been holding in. The sobs shook her body as he rubbed her back. She cried so hard that his words were lost on her, but the calming vibrations passing into her chest soothed. When the dam finally closed, she sniffled as the hiccups made their unfortunate appearance.

He released her and looked down into what must look like a monstrous mess of a face. Wiping the tears from her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, her heart stilled when for the briefest of moments, he angled his head as if he was coming in for a kiss. Her captured breath burned within her lungs in anticipation, ready to relive his soft lips pressed to hers. Her nipples tightened at the prospect. Without warning, he stepped away.

Leading her to the couch, he sat her down and handed her a box of tissues. The unladylike sound that came when she blew her nose didn’t make her feel any more comfortable. He went to the refrigerator, took out a bottle of water and twisted off the cap before handing it to her.

Tanya gulped the liquid to reduce the flame of mortification heating her head while she avoided his gaze. Had she actually thought he’d kiss her? She may have lost weight and looked okay, but he could have any woman in the world. Why would he want her? She’d never forget how he’d treated her.

“You must have really loved him,” he said.

The water she’d just sipped slid down the wrong way, eliciting a sporadic cough. He actually thought the tears were for Broderick and the end of their marriage. If she wasn’t fighting for her life, she’d have laughed. She’d thought she’d loved him and that their marriage had been good. No television show could’ve presented a more perfect one. Over time, she’d realized her love had merely been on a friendship level. Their marriage had been doomed from the start. Only he’d known the reason, though. Yet she’d also been at fault. Why had she ever attempted to give her heart to one man when it belonged to another?

His heavy hand banged on her back. “Are you all right?”

She nodded while pushing his arm away. “Yes,” she croaked out, and held up a finger so he wouldn’t call 911. “Just...need a minute.”

The concerned man holding out his arms as if ready to catch her if she should faint was not what she’d expected after following the lifestyle he’d lived over the years. He’d recently calmed his partying, being seen on the celebrity circuit less frequently and dating women for longer than a week at a time, but even those few monthlong relationships never lasted and she wondered why.

The only thing the women he dated had in common was that they were gorgeous and all seemed to possess the same social rank. If the media were correct, he didn’t look at race, culture or size when choosing his females. He’d dated Amelia Wilson and Sara Bloom, both of whom weren’t just overweight, but obese. Her heart broke with each woman he’d been photographed with. Why couldn’t he have fallen for her?