Mandisa inspected the final touches to her makeup. Her face was flawless. She couldn’t very well convince someone to buy her product if she didn’t wear it herself. She looked at her outfit, a fitted black three-piece pantsuit. It was her power suit. It screamed sexy, confident professional who wasn’t to be fucked with. It was absolutely the impression she was attempting to make as the creator and owner of a cosmetics line.

She grabbed her red pumps and matching clutch to finalize the ensemble, satisfied her appearance would be acceptable for the country club Bull chose.

She was placing the vampire-red lipstick she’d used in her purse when Slade stepped out of his closet wearing a suit that fell somewhere between a tuxedo and a business suit. It was crisp black, and tailored to enhance every manly curve he possessed, Mandisa was entranced by the sight of him.

“You’re going?” She managed the two-word question despite the dryness in her mouth.

“Of course I’m going.” He took careful strides across the room until he was standing in front of her. He reached out his hand and lifted her chin carefully with his finger. “I’m sorry for the way I behaved earlier. I was completely out of line.”

The remorse filling his voice eased some of the tension between them. They’d spent the day in their separate corners, ignoring the problem, pretending it didn’t exist. It hadn’t worked, not for her anyway. Her pride kept her from extending some sort of peace offering, but standing here, with him touching her again, she was more than happy that he wasn’t as stubborn or juvenile as she.

“You were, but so was I. I shouldn’t have made plans for us without discussing them with you first. Especially since I knew you didn’t want Bull around. I was just trying to do what I thought was best. For me, my business, but also for you, Slade.”

If the strange spark in his bright blue eyes were any indication, he was surprised by her statement. “What made you think this was best for me, Mandisa?”

She pulled his hand from her chin and laced their fingers together. “Slade, it’s obvious to me that there’s something off between you and your dad. I know I haven’t been here long enough to get all the info, but I hope you’ll realize you can trust me with those details soon. I just wanted to give you an opportunity to hang onto something I can’t.”

“What’s that?”

Mandisa raised her eyes to his, hoping he would see sincerity resting in them. “A living parent.”

Slade closed his eyes before pulling her into his embrace. He leaned back slightly to place a soft kiss on the back of her hand.

“Darlin’, that’s sweet of you. Knowing how much you miss your mama, understanding what it feels like to bury a parent myself, I’m flattered you would attempt to do something like this for me. But, Mandisa, Bull isn’t a parent. He has never loved or cared for me. I haven’t lived in his home since my mother died when I was a child. We may share blood, but we are not family. Sitting down to a meal with him will not change that.”

She raked a careful hand through the hair at his nape, pulling him down for a quick peck. Her heart ached for him. Mandisa and her mother hadn’t seen eye-to-eye on what was feminine. Mandisa’s love of all things science often baffled Sadie King. But there was never a moment in her life that Mandisa questioned whether her mother loved her. Did Mandisa question whether Sadie approved of her choices, whether she was proud of the things Mandisa did? Yes, Mandisa would always question that, but there was no doubt in her mind that Sadie King loved every fiber of Mandisa’s being.

“Let’s go eat and see what Bull has to say. After that, we’ll spend the next week cuddled up together, forgetting about the outside world.”

He nodded and offered her a sweet smile. “I guess that’s a fair compromise. Let’s get to it, darlin’.”

The sound of his pet name for her, the smooth way it slid across his lips made her tremble. Bull Hamilton be damned, Mandisa wasn’t going to allow anything or anyone to hinder what she and Slade were building.

* * *

Slade walked into the country club with a possessive arm around Mandisa’s waist. He couldn’t care to be concerned by how Bull would react. Slade was done running from this son of a bitch. He was done hiding and hoarding what joy he could and praying Bull wouldn’t come snatch it away from him.

He spotted Bull right away, his stomach knotting up with anger as he saw the flawlessly beautiful blonde woman sitting next to his father at a table in the corner.

“Looks like Bull brought a date. Is it me, or does she seem a bit young for him, Slade?”

Hell, yeah, she was a bit young for the old man—more than thirty years Bull’s junior if Slade remembered correctly.

“She’s not his date,” Slade grumbled as the greeter escorted them to Bull’s table.

“Slade, Dr. Avery, glad you two could make it.” Bull exchanged a quick handshake with Mandisa and motioned for her to take the seat next to him. He then offered a short nod to Slade as a greeting. He pointed to the young woman sitting across from him at the square table, his bright smile gleaming with perverse pride.

God, he’s a sick bastard.

“This is my wife, Macy. When I told her you and I were going to talk business, she insisted on coming to meet you,” Bull explained.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” Mandisa responded. “Please forgive me if I stare, but you seem very familiar to me, Macy. Have we met before?”

Slade watched Macy’s pink, glossy lips curve into a smile while her long lashes fanned repeatedly. Slade had seen that exact combination of gestures before, had thought it sweet the first few times he’d witnessed it. In less than a year he’d learned the truth of what that expression meant. It was fake. Used to manipulate and mislead unsuspecting spectators into believing there was a genuine and humble human being behind it. It was the mask Macy used to conceal her venom from her would-be victims.

“I’m certain you probably recognize me from my work as the Venus Cosmetics spokesmodel. I’ve been the face of Venus for the last ten years.”

Slade watched Mandisa assess Macy carefully. He wasn’t quite certain what she was thinking, but he could tell by the squinting of her eyes and the lines on her brow that her mind was working overtime.

“No, I spend most of my time in a lab or in an office running a business. I wouldn’t know you as a spokes model.”

Slade damn near choked on his laughter, turning it into a cough when Macy’s sharp gaze cut across the table and landed on him. Saved by their server’s arrival, they sat quietly as the young man filled their wineglasses with white wine, then deftly recorded everyone’s order for the evening.

“So, Dr. Avery, my Bull here tells me you make makeup? Is that true?”

“That’s a pretty broad description of what I do. I create beauty products, not just makeup. I use science to create formulas to address cosmetic needs for women of color.”

“Just women of color? That seems like a very small market share. Wouldn’t it be wiser to cater to all skin tones instead?”

Their server returned with their selections, and the conversation was abated for a few moments. When the server was gone, and they had each taken their first bites of food, Slade hoped Macy’s ignorant line of questioning would recede. But after another glass of wine, the young woman found her courage and continued to press Mandisa.

“Take Venus, for example. Our brand caters to everyone.”

Slade was ready to jump in and defend Mandisa’s honor when he saw the edge of Mandisa’s lip lift in a cynical half-smile that told him she had this. A celebratory gleam in Macy’s eyes caught Slade’s attention. He shook his head. Macy was so pleased with herself, she didn’t see what Slade saw—Mandisa’s brilliance preparing for the battle ahead.

“Actually, Macy, Venus does not cater to everyone,” Mandisa countered. “Venus makes products that cater to mainstream America. If you’re white, blue-eyed, and blonde, Venus products will work gloriously on you. But if you have the slightest bit of melanin in your skin, Venus products will make you look like you learned cosmetics application at a clown school.

“It’s a fact I think your husband is well aware of. That’s probably one of the reasons he wants me to come work for him. Without a line that caters to women of color, Venus is leaving money on the table. Besides failing to cater to an entire population demographic, there’s also the greater problem of Venus’ contribution to the historical and social issue of perpetuating the idea that only white, blonde women are beautiful.”

Slade let an uncaring smirk rise unchecked on his face. Watching his woman educate Macy on a business, financial, and social issue wasn’t just hilarious, it was sexy as hell. Mandisa sent him a cavalier wink across the table. Game, set, match, she had this, and everyone at that table knew it, especially Bull.

* * *

For the rest of the evening Mandisa watched the bitter bitch sitting next to her hoover multiple glasses of wine while Slade, Bull, and Mandisa talked business. To anyone watching it seemed cordial, but Mandisa could see Slade was doing his level best to keep from slitting Bull’s throat every time the man tried to find a different method of pressuring Mandisa for a final decision on the deal.

Mandisa was unmoved by Bull’s tactics. She didn’t respond to bullying. She needed Bull to know that if she was going to make this deal, it would always be on her own terms. When she was tired of the boardroom back and forth across the dinner table, she excused herself to the ladies’ room.

She used the restroom, washed her hands, and sat down in front of an empty seat at the vanity station. Satisfied most of her makeup was intact, she retouched her vibrant red lipstick that had been sacrificed to the meal they’d eaten.

“You’re sleeping with him, aren’t you?”

Mandisa looked up in the mirror to see Macy standing behind her. Mandisa calmly placed her lipstick in her purse and continued checking her reflection, unbothered by Macy’s question.

“Seeing how you’re married to Slade’s father and Slade’s a grown man, I don’t understand how that’s any of your business.”

Mandisa saw a spark of jealousy streak across Macy’s face, leaving her lips flattened into thin strips and her eyes squinting. Considering all the plastic surgery Mandisa could detect on the human doll’s face, she was thoroughly impressed Macy could scowl at her like that.

Mandisa would be amused by Macy’s reaction save for the fact that the woman was Slade’s stepmother.

Why the hell would she be jealous over Slade?

“I hope you don’t think it’s serious. You’re not exactly his type.”

“And let me guess. Who is his type? You?”

When Macy squared her shoulders and placed both hands on her tiny waist, Mandisa knew she’d hit the nail on its head. This foul bitch was really jonesin’ for her husband’s son.

If this ain’t some nasty soap opera shit.

“Listen Macy, I’m not concerned about what you do or don’t want from Slade. The fact is you’re married to his father. The man I know, however briefly, would never cross that line. So whether I’m sleeping with Slade or not is irrelevant. Even if I weren’t a factor, he still wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole.”

Mandisa pulled a bill out of her purse and made a deliberate show of shoving the folded paper into the bathroom attendant’s tip jar. She gave Macy a parting smile and made certain to add a little extra sway to her full hips as she walked away.

* * *

Slade grabbed his glass of water and emptied it. He could feel the contents of his stomach rising, a frequent event whenever he was in his father’s presence for longer than a few moments at a time.

“I’ll give you one thing, boy.” Bull’s voice held a lascivious tone that made Slade’s jaw tic. “You’ve always had fine taste in woman. That one right there is smart as a whip and sexy as sin. Please tell me you’ve tasted that at least once.”

Slade squeezed his fists together, shaking with the need to let them fly across the table at Bull. It was only the room full of witnesses that kept him planted in his seat.

“Bull, I’m going to give you some advice.” Slade leaned closer, his voice dropping lower as he spoke. Slade watched Bull’s Adam’s apple bob up and down as the man swallowed deeply. “You can talk about that tramp that you’re married to like that, but don’t ever let me hear you speak about Mandisa that way.”

“Seems I’ve touched a nerve.”

Bull was right—he had touched a very raw nerve. Mandisa was completely off limits. She wasn’t about to be a casualty of Bull’s senseless destruction. Not on Slade’s watch.

“I never believed you were capable of such depravity until Macy came along. I’m telling you now, I’ve learned from that situation. I’m not some naïve young buck you can step all over anymore, Bull. If you come anywhere near Mandisa, I promise I’ll ruin you.”

Slade watched the shocked-still features that made up his father’s face. The man’s quick-moving eyes considered Slade carefully—more carefully than Slade had ever witnessed before. Bull could try Slade if he wanted to, but Slade meant every word he’d said. He would decimate Bull if he came anywhere near Mandisa.

Satisfied that his point had been made, Slade stood up, removed his phone from his jacket pocket, and sent off a quick text to Aaron.

Send me something quick to end this now.

Once the text was sent, Slade replaced the phone in his inside pocket and pulled enough money from his wallet to cover the bill. He didn’t want to owe Bull anything, not even the cost of dinner.

Resolute in his desire to get as far away from Bull as possible, Slade looked up and directed his sights toward the corridor with one thought resounding in his head.

Where the hell is my woman?

* * *

Slade must have been waiting for her to emerge from the restroom. He was standing in the corridor leaning against the wall. When their gazes met, he took a few strides and was at her side. He placed a comforting hand at the small of her spine and directed her toward the exit.

The valet brought Slade’s car to the curb and was rewarded with a generous tip from Slade’s billfold. He helped her into the car and joined her shortly, pulling quickly into traffic. Mandisa said nothing for the hour-long trip from Downtown Austin. She was equally quiet as they entered the house and climbed the stairs to Slade’s bedroom.

She remained quiet, removing her jewelry and clothing, then heading for the shower. When she was dried, wearing shorts and a tank top, her usual uniform for bed before she began sharing night space with Slade, she stood in front of a sitting Slade and crossed her arms.

“So tell me, Slade. Exactly how long have you been sleeping with your father’s wife?”