ôE-E-Ebony!ö the man cried as he got up from behind his desk.
ôYou could at least have the guts to dump me in person!ö she said, and assumed one of her favored positions: three-quarter turn, hip thrust out, chin up, hand resting on opposite hip. It was the pose she ended every show with, and which had earned her the title æQueen of the catwalk.Æ Invariably a thunderous applause followed this stance, but today all it earned her was a blank stare from her lover and irate glances from the lawyer.
ôBut E-E-Ebonyàö Cotton bleated helplessly.
She frowned at the man. SheÆd expected some fireworks, not this pitiful display of snivelly weakness. ôWell?ö she demanded. ôWhat do you have to say for yourself?ö
ôI-I-Iàö the man stuttered. He seemed to have gone through some sort of transformation, she saw. One in which his balls had been removed and replaced with jelly.
ôItÆs another woman, isnÆt it? Who? I have a right to know!ö
ôNo, no, nothing like that!ö Cotton assured her as he seemed to hide behind his desk.
She walked around the desk, and now stood in front of him, studying him up close and personal. Then she frowned.ôYou look different,ö she said. She placed an imperious hand on his head and tossed his hair like a salad. ôYour hairà did you cut it? And your eyes, they look different, too.ö She narrowed her own eyes. ôAre you wearing colored contacts?ö
ôY-y-yes,ö he stammered. ôYes, thatÆs it. Colored contacts.ö
ôLook, Miss Pilay,ö said the lawyer. ôCotton is a very busy man, soàö
ôSomething is not right,ö Ebony said finally. ôWhat is it? It canÆt be another woman. ThereÆs no one like me. Are you sick? Is that it?ö
ôYes,ö said Cotton, nodding furiously. ôI-I donÆt feel so good.ö And as his knees suddenly failed him, he dropped down in his chair.
Ebony immediately pounced on him, pinning him down by placing both hands on the arms of the chair and bringing her face within inches of his.ôYou canÆt do this to Ebony, Cotton. Ebony wonÆt be dumped by text. In fact Ebony wonÆt be dumped, period. ItÆs not done.ö And as she gazed deeply into his eyes, she sensed something was seriously wrong here. Usually when she was up close and personal with the man like this, the animal magnetism that had brought them together and caused electricity to crackle like wildfire, invariably made him drag her mouth to his and consume her in an explosion of heat.
But not now. She didnÆt feel a thing. The man was as passionate as a wet blanket.
She frowned at her former loverùthe man who had set her world alight from the moment they first met at a Met Gala after-party. ôSomething isnÆt right,ö she determined. She pulled back, studying the wet blanket. ôSomething isnÆt right at all,ö she concluded.
She glanced to the lawyer, who seemed to have lost his tongueùa rare occurrence.
ôThis isnÆt over, Cotton!ö she shouted as she retreated and walked out. ôYou havenÆt seen the last of me!ö
And as she slammed the door, she wondered what the hell was going on.
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Tobias stared after the woman, and winced as she slammed the door. The moment she was gone, Eric Blandine gave him a typically insipid look.ôDo you think she knows?ö he asked.
Tobias rubbed his chin thoughtfully.ôI donÆt know. But she suspects something, thatÆs for sure.ö
ôMaybe you should have told her the truth?ö Eric suggested.
ôAnd have her run to the first reporter to spill the story? No way.ö
ôWhat if she runs to the nearest reporter now?ö
ôShe wonÆt. She canÆt be sure that youÆre not Cotton.ö
Eric directed a dreamy look at the closed door.ôWhat a woman,ö he sighed. EbonyÆs perfume still hung in the air, and Tobias had to admit it was as intoxicating as the lady herself.
But then he steeled himself.ôThis is exactly the kind of thing we have to avoid at all cost. If Ebony finds out, weÆre sunkùand that means this entire operation is sunk. And if the operation is a bust, Karat Group is dead meat.ö
ôSo what do suggest, Mr. Pushman?ö
ôI suggest that we tighten security. First that fracas at Town Hall, and now this?ö He slammed the palm of his hand with his fist. ôItÆs exactly this kind of thing we canÆt afford.ö
ôShe looked very upset,ö Eric mused. ôI think she must love Cotton a great deal.ö
ôThatÆs not love,ö the lawyer scoffed. ôItÆs lust.ö
ôLust,ö said Eric with a sigh. It was obvious he didnÆt know the meaning of the word. Then again, Tobias had seen EricÆs wife. Not exactly a woman who inspired the kind of torrid emotion that Ebony Pilay seemed to inspire in the men she dated. ôSheÆs certainly something else,ö Eric concluded.
ôWhatever she is,ö the lawyer concluded, his jaw working, ôMiss Pilay is a problem.ö
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That night, Ebony was gazing out of the window of the loft she inhabited. A glass of Chardonnay in her hand, her mind was filled with images of Cotton. Even though Ebony prided herself never to fall in love with the men she dated, she had to admit that Cotton had gotten under her skin. She wouldnÆt go so far as to say sheÆd fallen for the guy, but he was certainly a hard man to forget.
He was also the first man whoÆd ever dumped her.
She took a sip from the wine and savored it on her tongue. It brought back sweet memories of their first date. SheÆd only gone out with Cotton because a mutual friend had set them up, not expecting them to hit it off. But they had. In fact they hadnÆt even finished their meal. The night had ended with her in his arms in some hotel room near the restaurant, and theyÆd experienced one of those whirlwind romances you always hear so much about but which only seem to happen to people in the movies or on TV.
Cotton had taken her breath away, and frankly sheÆd already started allowing herself to think that he just might be the one.
And now this.
And as she thought back to that afternoon, suddenly a thought occurred to her. Was it possible that CottonÆs entourage had drugged him? Or hypnotized him? He certainly hadnÆt seemed like himself. More like a watered-down version of the man sheÆd come to know so intimately she felt she knew him better than he knew himself.
And whoever the man she met was, it sure as hell wasnÆt Cotton.
Suddenly she thought she heard somethingùa noise that seemed to come from the entrance to the flat. And as she glanced over, suddenly a tiny sliver of fear struck her.
If these people could make Cotton disappear, what else were they capable of?
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Eric Blandine had had an eventful day. HeÆd been doused with fake blood, accosted by the woman he had supposedly dumped, and so when heÆd received the invitation, heÆd figured it was just one more hurdle on the road to making this assignment a success.
For make no mistake: Eric might be the meekest, kindest man on the planet, but he was also determined to make a go at playing Cotton Karat. Even though he loved his job, it hadnÆt escaped his attention that here was the opportunity of a lifetime: the opportunity to make a great deal of money.
He could buy a house in the suburbs. He could get a decent car. He could take Maisie on the kind of holiday she deserved, instead of taking her camping again. In other words: if he played his cards right, this unusual request could completely turn their life around.
He entered the barn where the ducks were kept and wondered why they were meeting here. ItÆs not as if he didnÆt have a perfectly nice condo where they could meet.
The odor of the ducks filled his nostrils and he grimaced. All around him, there was a kind of soft quacking, produced by the thousands of ducks gathered in the barn. Subdued light filtered in through grimy windows, and since he was afraid to make his presence known, and hadnÆt brought his phone or a flashlight, his well-shod right foot suddenly trod in something soft and squishy that he instantly knew was duck dung.
Yuck.