took a deep breath. “Paxton will give you all the details about the interview and the film crew that will be here next week, but if you have any other questions or concerns, please give me a call,” she said, as she flipped a business card through her fingers and slid it across his palm.
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
And with that, Kamaya turned, almost racing from the room.
“Wow!” Bryan exclaimed. “Damn! That woman is gorgeous! Did you see those hips and whips?” he asked, gesturing with both hands across his chest and then his butt.
Paxton gave him a look, something protective seeming to sweep over his broad shoulders. “She’s out of your league. Besides, she’s taken.”
Bryan shrugged. “The good ones always are.”
Wesley bit down on his bottom lip, his best friend’s words echoing in his head. The good ones always are!
* * *
“Sounds like you’re going to be coming out of retirement,” Bryan teased, when the two men were finally alone. Paxton was long gone after detailing the rest of the business they needed to address, and Bryan and Wesley were now winding down for the night.
Wesley lifted his eyes to stare at his friend. “Excuse you?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Deuce!”
Wesley shook his head, a slight smirk pulling at his mouth. “That is not going to happen.”
“It will if Miss Boudreaux has something to say about it.”
“Well, she doesn’t.”
“And what if she asks to speak with him herself?”
“Then I’m giving her your telephone number, and you’re going to tell her that you’re out of the country and a trip back isn’t viable.”
Bryan laughed. “You expect me to lie?”
Wesley laughed. “Damn right!”
“Maybe you should just tell her the truth and let her know you’ve retired and are out of business.”
“I don’t make a point of telling anyone about my dancing days. How long has it been now? Hell, I don’t even know if I can dance anymore! I’m still trying to figure out how she got my stage name.”
“Clearly, the woman did her research. You know better than most that we are a small community nationwide. Ask the right woman and she can tell you who the top dancers are at Chocolate City in Atlanta, Chippendales in Vegas, Thunder Down Under, and Black Diamond in New York. And by next month, they’ll add their favorites from The Wet Bar to the list.”
“But I haven’t danced in years!”
“You were one of the best in the business. I learned my best moves from you. Hell, the best of the best learned their moves from you! Your reputation is legendary. Ask any of the guys about Deuce and they will tell you how they aspire to your notoriety.”
Wesley sat back in his seat, his hands folded together as if he were in prayer. His mind wandered as he thought about what his friend had said about his former career and his reputation in the industry.
It used to be a running joke that they called him Deuce because of what was in his pants. He was well endowed, and there had been women who’d mused he was packing at least two good feet of solid meat between his thighs. Of course, two feet was a good foot and an inch on the side of ridiculous, but he had run with it and it had paid off. On a good night Wesley had easily pulled over a thousand dollars in tips. A bad night netted him four or five hundred dollars. Had he been able, he would have danced seven nights a week. But since he couldn’t, he’d danced Thursday, Friday and Saturday, and for more private parties than he could count. He’d shaken his goods at brides celebrating their last hurrah, divorcees getting their feet re-wet and women who simply enjoyed a good time.
He had purposely avoided the more salacious aspects of the business. He had never had sex with a client or with anyone when he was working. He’d maintained a certain etiquette when performing, never, ever exposing his bare package. Over the years he had seen some things from other dancers that made his head spin and that wasn’t how he had wanted to be remembered.
But dancing had served him well. It put him through school, bought and paid for his first home and had enabled him to buy the business he was now building. He had few regrets and much appreciation for how the business had treated him. But he wasn’t interested in making a comeback. The past was best left in the past. He blew hot air past his lips, the weight of the situation bearing down on his spirit.
He suddenly thought about Kamaya Boudreaux. The woman had excited him. He had done a good job of containing his interest, and even in those few moments that had gotten tense between them, he had still found her thoroughly engaging. But he recognized that she could be a force to be reckoned with and he instinctively knew that telling her no wouldn’t be as easy as he hoped. Yet he had every intention of telling the woman no. The dancer known as Deuce would not be making an appearance at the grand opening of The Wet Bar.
When Kamaya googled Wesley Walters, 442,000 search results came up. There were twenty-five LinkedIn profiles and just as many Facebook pages. After eliminating an author, an artist, a doctor, a real estate agent and a host of personalities with the name Wesley Walters, she still hadn’t found the good-looking black man who’d piqued her curiosity. She blew a soft sigh as she settled back in her upholstered chair.
It had been a good long while since any man had captured her interest the way Wesley Walters had. And because he had her attention, she found herself wanting to vet him as completely as possible. She trusted his association with Paxton because she trusted her friend, but she instinctively knew there was more to the man than even Paxton knew.
As she powered down her computer there was a knock on her office door. She looked up just as Paxton pushed the entrance open and poked his head in. “Can we talk now?” he asked, eyeing her with an air of indignation.
She returned his look with a raised eyebrow. “Do I detect a hint of attitude?”
Paxton moved into the room, closing the door behind him. He dropped down into the empty seat in front of her desk. “No, you detect a boatload of attitude. What’s your problem?”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “My problem?”
“Yeah! You’ve been giving me the cold shoulder since I told you about me and Laney. What kind of shit is that? You’re supposed to be my friend. My best friend!” He tossed up his hands in frustration.
Kamaya shook her head. “You really have some nerve. You tell me you’re marrying that wildebeest and I’m suddenly supposed to change how I feel about her? Not saying anything is the best thing I could have done for you and our friendship.”
“Wildebeest? Really?”
“Really. Did you forget about her husband? Or does the fact that she has one not matter to you?”
“You know that’s only a technicality. She loves me.”
“She loves playing you and you enjoy letting her.”
“That’s low. Now you’re sounding like you’re bitter. And jealous!”
Kamaya blew a soft sigh. “Paxton, you and I go way back. And because we have a lot of history I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.” She shifted forward in her seat. “Laney is a witch. You know she’s a witch. Because I’m your best friend I can tell you she’s a witch. Now, if that moose ever does get her divorce, you can marry her if you want to, but I’m not going to lie to you about how I feel about it. When it blows up, I’ll be right here to help you pick up the pieces. And then I’m going to tell you I told you so. You’re