Rival's Desire

Caesar pulled his sensual light stare away from the silky dark curls shielding Viv’s womanhood. “I live here,” he reminded her as he slowly stepped into the room.

Viv gasped, realizing her body was completely bared to his searing gaze. “I mean, what are you doing in here?” She pulled the dark towel in front of her.

“I came to get something.” He crossed his arms over his chest as he watched her. “Besides, I thought I left you in the bathroom.”

“You did, but you brought my bag in here.”

Caesar closed his eyes as realization dawned. “Yeah, that’s right.”

Viv propped her hand on her hip and gave him a strange look. She had no idea the towel only covered the front of her body, leaving the rest in plain view through the mirror. When Caesar just stood there staring, she frowned.

“Are you gonna leave now?” she asked.

“I hadn’t planned on it.”

“Caesar, what are you doing?”

“You know, I wish you’d stop asking me that,” he said, pushing his hands into the pockets of his trousers.

Viv’s lashes fluttered as she shook her head. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know damned well what’s going on here.”

“Well, would you clue me in anyway?”

Caesar leaned back against the wall. “Come on, Plum. All that arguing with me, getting all up in my face, pushing all that chest against me? You’ve been coming on to me all day.”

Viv’s mouth fell open. She was so exasperated it took a full minute before she could speak. “I don’t believe you just said that.”

A wolfish grin spread across Caesar’s face. “Truth hurts, huh, Plum?”

“No-o-o, lies hurt!”

“I’ve been around enough women to know the difference between one who’s not interested and one who’s flirting with me.”

“I’m sure you have, but you’re wasting your time with me!”

Caesar leaned his head back against the wall and smiled. “I’ll take my chances for a body like that.” His eyes trained on the mirror.

Vivian’s lovely, dark gaze narrowed and she glanced behind her. “Dammit!” she gasped, whipping the towel around her body. “I really hate you, Caesar Morrison.”

He feigned surprise. “What?”

“You could’ve told me.”

Caesar pulled one hand from his pocket and pressed it against his chest. “And deprive myself?”

“Of course not, Caesar.” Losing her zeal for fighting, she dropped to the side of the bed. “Oh, how can they make us work together? We can’t even be in the same room for two minutes without arguing.”

Caesar’s features softened at the tiny, lost tone in Viv’s words. He walked over and took a seat next to her on the bed. Turning to face her, he brought his hand to her face and cupped her chin in his palm. “Hey,” he said, waiting for her eyes to meet his. “The grannies must see potential in us or they wouldn’t be asking us to do this.”

“It just won’t work.”

“Shh…” Caesar whispered, leaning closer. His lips brushed the baby-soft hair near her temple.

Vivian closed her eyes and leaned into the pressure of his mouth against her skin. The sweet gesture felt so right, an insistent tingle emerged in the most intimate area of her body. “Caesar…” she whispered, a twinge of unease in her voice.

He trailed his lips down the side of her face, then stood. “Hurry up and get dressed,” he ordered, forcing himself to be firm. “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes,” he called over his shoulder as he walked out of the bedroom.

Caesar looked for the key to his grandmother’s front door while Viv stood next to him. As he pushed the thin key into the lock, his striking champagne stare slid to Viv’s beautiful face. For a while, their eyes held. Vivian was the first to look away. The door opened and Caesar escorted Viv inside with one hand pressed against the middle of her back.

“Are you okay?” Caesar asked, staring directly into her eyes. Concern was clear on his handsome face.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Viv assured him, though her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Caesar? Vivian? Are you two out there?”

“Yeah!” they called in unison, following the sound of their grandmothers’s voices.

“Oh, the two of you came together!” Francine cried as she and Carlotta rushed across the foyer to hug their grandchildren.

When the two women pulled away from Caesar and Viv, they couldn’t help but notice how subdued the two seemed. Caesar was unusually quiet and Viv seemed a bit unsettled.

Carlotta slipped her arm around Viv’s waist as they all headed to the living room. “Baby, you look so lovely tonight.” She took in the ankle-length peach dress with spaghetti straps and empire waist.

“Thanks, Grammy,” Viv sighed as she placed an arm around Carlotta’s shoulders and pulled her closer.

Francine smiled and looked up at Caesar. His gaze was unwavering as it followed every movement of Viv’s svelte form. She patted his back and hugged him. “Aw, baby, you look lovely, too,” she cooed, seeing the smile tug at his lips.

Caesar looked down at Francine. “Thank you, Granny.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Does anybody want a drink?” Caesar asked when they stepped into the living room.

“Sure, if you’re playing bartender,” Francine retorted.

Caesar raised his hand. “I got it covered. What’ll it be?”

“I’ll have a gin tonic,” Francine called.

“Same for me!” Carlotta said as she selected a different set of jazz CDs to play.

Viv was getting comfortable on the love seat. Francine and Carlotta watched as Caesar stepped from behind the bar and walked over to her. He brushed the back of his hand against Viv’s shoulder.

“Are you gonna have something to drink, Plum?” he queried softly when she looked up at him.

“A glass of wine—Riesling, if Miss Frankie has it.” Her alluring dark gaze lingered on his incredible face a bit longer than necessary.

“So, are you two ready to discuss the business and what’s expected of you?” Carlotta asked when Caesar stepped back behind the bar.

“It’s obvious this is a package deal. The two of you want the two of us.”

“That’s right,” Francine confirmed, nodding. “How do you feel about that?” She posed the question to Vivian who had been rather quiet.

“Well,” she began, glancing back at Caesar, “we both want a chance to run the business. If we have to do it together, we’ll give it our all.”

Francine and Carlotta exchanged curt nods and moved to sit together on the long sofa. Between them were three manila folders.

“There are a few key deals that need your attention right off the bat. Thank you, sweetie,” Francine said to Caesar when he handed her a gin tonic.

Carlotta sat her drink on the coffee table. “These deals are in the last stages of negotiations. All that’s needed now are the final go-aheads. Meetings will be abundant,” she warned them, pushing the folders across the marble-topped table.

“The two of you should get together and discuss them,” Francine advised, taking a sip of her drink.

Viv took the files and placed them between herself and Caesar on the love seat.

Carlotta and Francine stood and headed to the white double doors at the rear of the room. “We can finish talking over dinner,” Carlotta called as she and her business partner headed to the dining room.

“When do you want to go over this stuff?” Caesar asked, picking up one of the folders and thumbing through the contents.

Viv toyed with a curl lying against her cheek. “I guess we should find out when the first meeting is.”

Caesar nodded, his long brows drawn as he scanned a page in the folder. “Humph, from the looks of it, we have a meeting in the morning.”

“What?” Viv whispered, snatching the file out of his hands. “I don’t believe it.” She shook her head at Caesar and smiled. “I guess we’ll have to get together after dinner.”

“My place or yours?” he asked, a fiendish smirk crossing his mouth.

Viv tossed her bouncy, clipped locks and stood. “The office.”

Caesar nodded. Even he agreed it was probably the safest place.

Chapter 3

“You and Miss Carly are tryin’ to baptize us by fire,” Caesar playfully accused during dinner.

Francine and Carlotta laughed.

“It’s the best way!” Carlotta assured him.

“Besides,” Francine added. “We’re confident you two can handle it. We wouldn’t entrust you with our life’s work, otherwise.”

Viv cleared her throat as she cut into the succulent white meat of the Cajun-styled mahi. “Can we at least get an overview of the deals that are about to be closed?”

Carlotta set her fork aside. “The largest deal is the Tydes’ account. A couple from Jamaica—brother and sister. They own a lovely bed-and-breakfast and they’re interested in carrying a line of our dolls in their gift shop.”

“What line?” Caesar asked, cracking the shell of a crab leg.

“Our Island line,” Francine replied. “The Tydes are interested in carrying them exclusively.”

Caesar nodded, dipping the crab meat in a bowl of butter sauce. “How do you two feel about it?”

Francine and Carlotta exchanged wide grins.

“Actually, it’s the deal we’re most excited about,” Carlotta admitted. “Of course, the final yes would be given by the two of you. We’ve informed our clients and employees on the change of power. You can expect everyone’s full cooperation.”

Dinner passed very quickly. Caesar and Viv had a lot of questions about the D.M. Doll Factory and how it functioned. Of course, Carlotta Desmond and Francine Morrison were two savvy businesswomen with a wealth of knowledge. By the time dinner had ended, Caesar and Viv were fully informed on what was expected of them.

“Do you need to stop by your house for anything before we head to the office?” Caesar asked Viv, his hand rested against the small of her back as they walked through the foyer.

Viv shook her head. “I don’t need anything,” she assured him, smiling when he patted her back.

“So, what do you think?” Carlotta asked Francine as they stood beneath the beveled living room doorway and watched their grandchildren leave.

“This is gonna work,” Francine predicted, sending her friend a knowing look.

“Man, when they told us you and Viv were gonna be working here, everybody went crazy. Workin’ for a football player and a singer? Only in America!”

“Well, it’s the off-season for me,” Caesar said. “And Viv had some downtime before really gearing up for her new CD’s touring and release. So our schedules just seemed to work out!”

Caesar and Viv laughed at Jermaine Wilkes, one of the night watchmen at the factory.

“We just hope we don’t embarrass ourselves,” Caesar told Jermaine and the other guard, Thomas Gentry.

Thomas waved his hand. “Please! With those two backin’ you up,” he said, referring to Francine and Carlotta, “they’ll help you out of any pinches you get into around here.”

“Besides, everybody who works here loves to help out,” Jermaine assured them. “With you two, they’ll be fallin’ all over themselves to offer assistance.”

Vivian laughed as she patted both men on the shoulder. “I don’t know about all that, but you got me feelin’ a lot better.”

“Anytime!” Jermaine and Thomas replied in unison. They shook hands with Caesar and watched him follow Viv to the elevators.

“Oh my…goodness,” Viv breathed, her midnight eyes widening when she stepped past the double doors leading to the president’s suite. “They’ve redecorated since I was here last. Look at this.”

“I know,” Caesar agreed, taking in the plush elegance of Francine and Carlotta’s office.

The room was magnificent. It looked less like an office and more like a combination living room, dining room. In the far corner, there was a built-in bookshelf stocked with as many horror, romance and psychological thriller bestsellers as there were business manuals, newspapers and financial journals. Between the polished oak shelves was an impressive glass bar and a small white refrigerator. A fabulous white-leather living room set sat before it. On the opposite side of the office were two glass desks that faced each other. On the wall next to them was a built-in black entertainment center trimmed in gold. A huge TV and stereo sat there. The shelves held a DVD player and movies on one side, a hefty stash of jazz, R&B and classical CDs on the other.

“Damn, when do they find time to work?” Caesar teased, inspecting the titles in the movie collection.

“I’ll say,” Vivian agreed, though both she and Caesar knew their grandmothers deserved the best.

Francine and Carlotta began the D.M. Doll Factory right out of the Brooklyn housing project they lived in as young women. When their husbands left for work, the two of them spent hours designing dolls and clothing. It was just a hobby, something to keep their minds off the reality of living in such poor conditions. When a business fair came to the city one year, Francine and Carlotta took a chance and showed their ideas to a young man seated at a bank booth. He thought the ideas were so great, he talked his bank into fronting them cash to produce the dolls. Moreover, he educated them on the procedures for starting and running a successful business. The factory flourished out of their tiny apartments, then into the houses they moved to later that year. Soon, the need for even more space became necessary.

Vivian took a seat behind one of the desks and turned the dark, tanned swivel chair to the windows. “Caesar, remind me to thank Miss Francine and my grammy for my gorgeous new office.”

Caesar, who was still kneeling in front of the movie case, looked up at Viv and frowned. “Your new office?”

“Mmm…” Viv confirmed, enjoying the myriad city lights twinkling in the distance.

“I know you don’t think all this is yours?” Caesar queried, rising to his full height.

Viv was twisting her chair to and fro, basking in the success that surrounded her. The tone of Caesar’s voice didn’t affect her at all. “Until Miss Frankie and Grammy get back, it is.”

“The hell you say!”

“What?” Viv replied, turning the chair around. She saw Caesar standing behind the other desk, his fists braced on the glass top.

“There is no way you get to have all this, Viv,” he coldly assured her.

Viv’s gaze widened. “You can’t possibly want this office?”

Caesar’s long brows drew close. “Why the hell wouldn’t I?” he barked, spreading his arms wide. “Look at this place.”

“Yes, look at it, Caesar,” Viv prompted, standing behind the desk. “It’s clearly a woman’s office and since this isn’t a permanent thing, there’s no time for you to clutter it with sports magazines, basketball goals and your weight machines.”

Caesar’s thick lashes closed over his striking amber stare as he struggled to control his temper. “That may be so, Plum, but I’m not about to give this place up to you.”

Viv massaged her neck. “We’ll just have to share it, then.”

“It worked for our grandmothers,” Caesar retorted, taking a seat behind the opposite desk.

Headed to the bar, Viv cast him a tired look over her shoulder. “Yeah, but they are friends.”

Caesar’s deep chuckle rose and he leaned back to prop his long legs on the desk. “Ah, Plum, I’ll hate it when you leave.”

“Ah, Caesar, I’m not goin’ anywhere,” Viv assured him, pouring herself a glass of wine.

“Let’s get to work, shall we?” Caesar advised, rising and moving away from the desk to grab the folders off the coffee table.

Viv took a seat on the long sofa. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Finally, the two of them settled down to work. They spent close to two hours reading files. Afterwards, they tossed questions and ideas back and forth. Not once did it occur to them that they were getting along so splendidly. Soon, they were sharing the sofa.

Vivian began to sing softly as she scanned the last file on her list. She didn’t notice Caesar watching her. He had set his papers aside and was sitting with his elbow propped along the back of the sofa.

“That sounds so good,” he whispered, gaze soft.

Viv glanced up at him and smiled. “Thanks.”

Caesar turned his attention back to his papers. “Would you sing for me sometime?”

“Ha!” Viv bellowed, slapping her hand against her thigh as she laughed. “Yeah, right!”

“What’s wrong?” Caesar cried, a murderous frown beginning to cloud his face.

Viv pushed her thick curls away from her face and pinned Caesar with an amused glare. “Caesar, please, do you remember the last time I sang in front of you?”

Caesar shifted his huge frame on the sofa, grimacing at the sound the leather made. “I don’t remember that.”

Viv set her papers aside. “In high school? Your grandmother had that big cookout before our senior year?”

“Oh yeah…yeah I remember now,” Caesar whispered, nodding his head. “That was somethin’ else.”

Viv’s smile was far from humorous. “Yeah, it was somethin’ all right. I got up to sing and all I could hear was you giggling and talkin’ in the back.”

“I did that?” Caesar asked, feigning shock. He pressed one hand against his chest and his slanting, deep-set stare was mockingly innocent.

“You know you did that,” Viv told him, her black stare narrowing. “You were so loud, I heard you say I sounded like a man.”

Caesar’s full, rumbling laughter burst forth. He fell face-first onto the sofa, pounding his fist against the leather cushions. Vivian began to kick him with her foot.

“I’m sorry, Plum!” he cried, almost breathless from laughter. “I was just a kid!”

Viv punished him with another shove from her foot. “That’s no excuse!”

Caesar held his hands over his head to ward off the blows. “Plum, I was too young to appreciate your singing then.”

Viv couldn’t help it and her contagious laughter soon filled the office. “Good try, but I’m not fallin’ for it.” She moved to leave the sofa. Caesar’s large hand closed over Viv’s ankle and he stopped her.

“I’m sorry, Plum. Honest. If you give me another chance, I promise to be a better listener next time around.”

Viv drew her dress above her knees and knelt on the sofa. “You promise?”

“I promise,” he instantly replied, his gaze unwavering.

Again, their eyes mirrored an emotion that made them forget about all the misunderstandings. It was as though the rest of the world faded away, leaving them alone…together.

Caesar’s fingers slid across the space separating them to trail her bare knee. Viv’s lashes fluttered as a rush of sensation coursed through her from the simple caress. When Caesar’s hand curled around her thigh to pull her close, Vivian’s lips parted in anticipation of kissing him.

Papers resting beneath Viv’s knee crinkled when she moved closer. The sound intruded on the moment, forcing them back to reality.

Caesar cleared his throat and pulled his fingers away from Viv’s leg. She pressed her hand against the nerves twisting in her stomach and moved off the sofa.

“I better get home,” she said, reaching for the stylish, peach wedge-heels sitting beneath the coffee table.

Caesar nodded, but said nothing. After Vivian slipped into her shoes, they tidied the office and left.

“I hope your bathroom is okay,” Caesar told Viv, watching as she unlocked her front door.

Viv walked inside and headed right for the stairway. “I do, too!” she called, sprinting up the carpeted steps. Thankfully, the bathroom was in pristine condition and Viv hugged herself. “I’m gonna take that bath I missed out on!”

“You sure you got time?” Caesar asked when Viv walked back into the living room. “You should be trying to get all the rest you can.”

Vivian sent him a knowing look as she walked over to him. “I appreciate your concern, but I’ll be in top shape for our meeting. Don’t worry,” she added, pressing her palms against his chest. The solid, chiseled muscles forced a gasp past her lips. Sometimes, she forgot just how powerfully he was built. “Good night, Caesar,” she whispered quickly, hoping to hide her embarrassment.

Caesar didn’t tease, but a knowing smile tugged at the curve of his lips. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he promised, heading toward the front of the condo.

Vivian followed him to the door. When he was gone, she let her head fall against the polished maple door. “I can’t fall for that man. Please don’t let me.” She felt more attracted to Caesar in that moment than in all the years she had known him.

Still, aside from the fact that she felt desperately attracted to him, Viv steeled herself against letting things go further. It could never work. A fling was out of the question and anything more serious would not be fruitful—literally. Several years ago, Vivian discovered she was unable to have children. Though she tried not to let it make her feel like less of a woman, it was still something she was ashamed of. She survived the anguish of that by reminding herself that she’d not be partly responsible for bringing a child into a world where things changed so rapidly. Things like a parent’s love…Clearing her throat suddenly, Viv dismissed the upsetting memories and focused her thoughts elsewhere.

Caesar Morrison had crafted a well-known, respected image. Part of that image had a lot to do with the way he felt about children. Kids who otherwise would not stand a chance with society, could look to a man like Caesar for advice and consideration. His work with less fortunate or at-risk youth had gained national and, in some cases, international attention. It wasn’t for show—even Vivian could admit that. Caesar truly dedicated himself to standing up for those who couldn’t stand up for themselves.

A fool could see that the man would want children of his own. He deserved to be with a woman who could give him that. Vivian knew that woman could never be her.

Vivian felt more like herself when she arrived at the office early the next morning. She appeared cool, sexy and confident in the stylish, light blue business suit she had chosen for the day. The short, linen blazer hugged her torso, outlining her full breasts adoringly. The matching skirt reached mid-thigh, accentuated the length of her shapely legs.

The D.M. Doll Factory was alive with conversation concerning the arrival of the two superstars. It took Vivian quite a while to make it to the top floor, with everyone wanting a moment to speak with her. She felt even more confident about working there after seeing all the support and smiling faces of the Doll Factory family.

“Hey, Sandra!” Viv called, waving as she gave the tall, lovely woman a bright smile.

Sandra Weathers, executive assistant to both Carlotta Desmond and Francine Morrison, waved back. “Girl! I’m so happy to see you!” Sandra cried as she stepped from around the desk.

Viv pulled the woman into a tight embrace. “How have you been?”

“Just fine!” Sandra confirmed, her round vanilla-complexioned face practically glowing with excitement. “I guess I don’t have to ask you that.” She stepped back to take a better look at Viv. “You look fierce!”

Viv threw her head back and laughed. “Sweetie, you should get paid extra just for the way you compliment!”

“Thank you. I’ll make a note of that.”

“So, how’ve you been really?” Viv asked again.

Sandra shrugged. “Working.”

Viv appeared to be shocked. “Working? What about romancing?”

“Romancing?” Sandra replied, her hazel eyes widening. “Girl, please! It’s slim pickin’s around here!”

Viv tapped one French-manicured nail to her chin and frowned. “I don’t know about that, girl. I saw some pretty nice specimens when I walked in this morning.”

Sandra smiled, as well. “Well, so did I this morning when Caesar Morrison walked in.”

Viv rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “Oh, please don’t tell me they’re fallin’ all over him already?”

Sandra stepped forward and brushed her hand against Viv’s arm. “Honey, you didn’t know? I think every woman in this place has made an effort to get on this floor for some reason just to get a glimpse of the man.”