Hunter was out of his seat, his long strides moving to chase Camilla down.

“Sir!” The server called, halting him in his steps. “Your card, sir.” The server closed in on Hunter with a quick trot and a hand held out.

Hunter retrieved the plastic. “Thank you,” he said, turning to take his leave.

“You’re welcome, have a good day,” the server called at Hunter’s back.

Hunter strolled out of the restaurant across the lobby through the revolving doors into Chicago’s cool temperatures. He pulled a pair of aviator glasses out and sat them on his face, hiding his retinas from the beating sun’s rays. Hunter glanced left, then right and saw no signs of Camilla. She’d made her exit quickly, and he couldn’t figure out how when he’d only been a few meager steps behind her.

“Can I get your car, Mr. Valentine?” Robert, the valet attendant asked.

“Robert, did you get a car for a woman just a second ago? Brown skin, shoulder length hair, brown eyes, hourglass figure. She was wearing a pinstriped suit.”

Robert smiled. “That sounds like quite a woman. Unfortunately, I didn’t get a car for her.”

Hunter grimaced.

“However, I did see her walking down the street that way.” Robert pointed.

Hunter’s grimace turned into a charming smile. “My man,” Hunter said, slapping Robert on the shoulder. Hunter jogged down the street.

“I’ll get your car!” Robert called after him.

“You do that!” Hunter barked back.

Hunter had taken off into a sprint to meet up with the lovely Camilla. There wasn’t an explanation for his excursion, other than his curiosity of her, but either way, he wasn’t looking for clarification.

Robert trudged off and returned within seconds with Hunter’s vehicle while Hunter was at the corner searching with laser-like vision for his mystery woman. With people walking up and down the sidewalk, Hunter’s eyes darted from head to head then he cursed when his search came up empty.

Returning to The Regency, Hunter pulled out his wallet to add his American Express card back inside the bill folder. It was then that he noticed two cards in his hand. Camilla’s Visa was one of them. An elaborate smile cruised across his lips. He’d removed her card from the server’s hand, but Camilla had been in such a rush to escape him, she’d left it behind.

“Must be my lucky day,” Hunter drawled. He removed some cash and stuck a fifty-dollar bill in Robert’s shirt pocket then jumped in his car with a whistle on his tongue.

“Go get her, tiger,” Robert said, knowing all too well if Hunter Valentine was after you, there was no getting away from him. It was rare that Hunter gave chase to anyone, but on an occasion or two, he did, and Hunter always got his woman. This time, she’d slipped through his fingers, and although he wanted to brush it off and go about his day, the plastic inside his wallet gave him another reason to seek her out.

“Camilla…” he drawled, twirling her name around his tongue. Hunter left downtown headed for the manufacturing district of Chicago. February had proven to be one of the coldest months in this winter season, even going so far as leaving six inches of snow just weeks ago. However, it would be difficult to tell by the lack of outerwear that Hunter neglected. He had his moments when the wind chill was so brash that he’d throw on a thin fleece and sometimes go as far as tossing a men’s scarf around his shoulders. But for the most part, it was in Hunter’s nature to go without. He was, after all, a hot-blooded man. His thick skin and tough exterior held him in a natural cocoon of warmth, so the extra layer of clothing wasn’t necessary for him.

Hunter pulled up to a red light just as his phone rang. The Bluetooth was attached to his internal speakers along with his caller ID that streamed across his dashboard screen. He smirked and hit a button on his steering wheel that answered the call.

“I don’t think anyone in the world is as prompt as you,” he said.

A female voice chuckled. “Well when you’re dealing with a celebrity such as yourself, promptness is a must,” she said.

Hunter smiled. “What can I do for you this week, Ms. Tamara?”

Tamara Jenkins smiled into the receiver. “Oh, come now, you know what I want,” she cooed.

Hunter lifted a brow. “I play at your jazz club every week. Do you think I’d skip one?”

Tamara gave a low throaty chuckle. “Who said anything about playing jazz?”

Hunter’s smile stretched and he turned the corner, making his way to VFC Energy.

“No jazz,” he asked.

“Sure, there’s always that, but there’s also something a little more.”

“Why, Ms. Tamara, I’m flattered,” Hunter said.

Tamara chuckled. “You are no stranger to flattery, I know better than that.”

Hunter laughed at his long-time friend, or rather, his mother’s long-time friend. Ms. Tamara Jenkins was a spicy sixty-four-year-old woman who owned Velvet Café, a jazz club in the downtown district. Every Wednesday night, Hunter would make his appearance but only in the background. As he played the mellow sounds of the saxophone behind the curtain, the poet on stage would speak the words that flowed from their heart. Sometimes Hunter would switch it up and play the piano. The instrument depended on the tone of the artist and what they were looking for.

“Now, Ms. Tamara, you know Darrell would kill me if he knew we were having this conversation,” Hunter drawled.

“Oh, don’t pay that ol’ fool no never mind,” Tamara said about one of the many sponsors that frequented the club and had his eye on Tamara. “I bet he couldn’t rock my world if we were on a rollercoaster.”

Hunter guffawed as he pulled into his assigned parking spot in front of the building.

“Anyway, when you’re ready to stop chasing those snickerdoodles around, you know where to find mama,” she said, instantly ending their call.

Hunter chuckled some more. Ms. Tamara was right, Hunter wasn’t a stranger to flattery, but it still tripped him out every time Ms. Tamara came on to him. For Hunter, it was all fun and games, which he brushed off after every incident. Opening the car to his Lexus Jeep, Hunter stepped out, pulling his tall frame to a stand. He shut the door and checked his reflection in the car’s window, oblivious to the sharp winds that cruised around him. Satisfied with his look, Hunter strolled inside the building and spoke to security on his way up to his office.

“Good morning, Mr. Valentine,” Harold the officer spoke with a bright smile.

“Good morning, Harold,” Hunter responded, noticing the extra beam in Harold’s smile. “Good news today?”

“The wife is having me a son,” Harold excitedly announced.

Hunter stopped his stroll and turned back to the officer. He marched up to Harold with his hand held out. “Congratulations!” Hunter said. The two men shook hands strong and vibrantly.

“Thank you, sir, I’m pretty excited about it.”

“No doubt,” Hunter exclaimed. “When is she due?”

“You wouldn’t believe it if I told you.” At Hunter’s arched brown, Harold stated, “Fourth of July.”

Another spectacular smile cruised across Hunter’s face. “That’s a wonderful time to have a baby.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, listen, man, lunch is on me. I’ll be back shortly to take care of you.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary,” Harold cajoled.

“Sure, it is.” Hunter slapped Harold on the back and strolled back to the open elevator. “I’ll see you in a little bit.”

“Thank you, sir!” Harold said as the elevator doors closed.

“A baby on the fourth of July,” Hunter mumbled to himself. He smiled and mulled over the thought of a little Hunter Valentine running around his penthouse. It was the one thing that would completely melt his heart. For a long time, Hunter had wanted a son, or two, or three. But with his bachelor lifestyle, there was no way he could allow it to happen. The option of surrogacy had crossed his mind in the past. With an air-tight contract, Hunter could be the father of a beautiful little boy. But he wanted more than that. His son would need a mother, someone beautiful, bright, and colorful. Camilla’s image strolled through his mind just as the elevator opened on his floor.

As he walked, thoughts of Camilla’s lips latching onto the utensil he’d held in front of her caused heated chills to settle on his skin. The sensual way her mouth moved, and the soft ballad of her moan caused Hunter’s manhood to leap in his pants. Enthused by her, Hunter immediately felt the need to taste her skin and indulge in her dessert. But what he couldn’t have right then and there would have to settle for something else. So, when Camilla decided to return the favor, Hunter’s no hands gesture had come quickly, without a second thought.

Hunter was in such a daze that he didn’t hear his assistant Liza speak to him as he passed her desk. Liza peered at him with a frown. In the fourteen years Liza Crenshaw worked for Hunter, he’d never entered the building without speaking to her. This told Liza that Hunter was either off his game or something was wrong. For that reason, she stood and sauntered around her desk, walking the few feet to Hunter’s office.

“Hey, boss, is everything okay?”

Hunter blinked then turned around to face her.

“Yes, everything’s fine, why do you ask?” His voice was smooth and reassuring.

“You just seemed a bit off is all.”

“Off?” He peered at her with that potent stare that always seared her skin.

Liza tweaked her collar nervously. It didn’t matter that she’d been working with Hunter forever, there was no pill to take that would calm her nerves whenever his dark gaze met up with hers.

“I didn’t hear you speak back when you came in,” she pointed out.

“Oh.” Hunter smiled, with a beautiful charismatic pull of his lips. “I apologize, Liza. I was in another world. How are you this morning?”

Satisfied with his attention, Liza smiled back. “Everything’s great. Did you hear, ol’ Harold Massingale is having a baby boy soon. Isn’t that awesome? 54 years old and still going strong.”

Hunter nodded and just that quick his thoughts returned to Camilla.

“Yeah…” he drawled.

A quick knock at the door turned both of their attention to the newcomer. Devin, Hunter’s friend and COO, stood at the entry.

“We’re all meeting up in the boardroom,” he said. “Oh, and it looks like you made headlines again.”

“Me, or we?” Hunter asked.

“You mainly, but there is the mention of VFC’s ribbon-cutting ceremony, and the new anchor position has been filled.”

Hunter tried not to groan. WTZB had been looking to fill that position for months now. They’d had billboards, commercial segments, and radio segments calling for Chicago’s greatest journalists to come out and apply. But Hunter knew a fresh face and new attitude reporting on him could be good and bad, especially if the reporter wasn’t a fan.

“How bad is it?” Hunter asked.

Devin nodded at the flat screen TV on Hunter’s wall. Liza strolled to the remote that sat on his desk and turned the high definition television on. It was already on the local news station from a previous streaming.

When Camilla’s angelic face lit up the screen, Hunter’s heartbeat knocked against the wall of his chest, and his blood warmed simultaneously. His gaze dropped, and his pulse inexplicably accelerated.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he said.