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  The Wreight Series © 2018 Kimberly Renee Smith

  All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced or transmitted in any capacity without written permission by the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

  This is a work of fiction, Names characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual persons living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  This adult contemporary romance is recommended for readers 18+ due to mature content.

  May 2018 edition

  Chapter One

  Renee hated clubs, but there she was again sitting at a table near the dance floor of the club that everyone was talking about around the city. Ultra was packed with hot young people bumping and grinding to America’s number one hip-hop and pop songs. Her boss had asked her to check out the club because his only daughter was spending a lot of time there. He was concerned that she might be involved with the wrong kind of people.

  Tonight, would make this the third time this month that she had gone to the club. She still felt awkward and out of place. Renee was not the club-hopping type. She would rather be at home watching sitcoms or movies in her comfy pajamas. Tonight, Renee had brought her two closest friends along hoping that she would have more fun. They arrived at the club over an hour ago, and she hadn't danced yet.

  Not that this was something new, she only danced when her friends dragged her kicking and screaming onto the dance floor. It wasn't that she didn't like to dance, she did. She was good at it, but she never got asked to dance, and she would never approach a man asking him to dance with her. Being publicly rejected was not something she wanted to experience.

  When they arrived, they ordered drinks and found an empty table, but before they could warm their seats, Ronda and Celia were grabbed by two handsome men and rushed to the dance floor. Renee sat at the table watching their purses. She took a deep breath wanting to light the cigarette that she knew she didn't need. She was trying to quit and had been doing very well until recently.

  She had started again when her boyfriend, Mark began to pressure her, wanting to take their relationship to the next level. She and Mark had known each other for a few years and were now involved on a more personal level. Personal in the way that they had kissed and made out, but for some reason Renee would not allow it to go any further.

  Mark wanted to take it to the next level. He had told her repeatedly that he wanted to have a more physical relationship, and Renee believed him, but she had decided after her last relationship, that she would not have sex until she was so on fire for the man that she could not help herself. That had not happened with Mark yet. She liked kissing, and he wasn't bad at it, but she hadn't had that fire in her belly that made her want to rip his clothes off.

  She took another sip from her wine glass while watching her friends shake their hips to the beat. She hadn't been in a club for years before coming here. She chose to dance in her living room alone, but her boss had requested this review personally.

  During their last staff meeting, her editor, Dave Snellman explained to her that he had heard some wild stories about the club. There had been some gossip of drugs and violence. His interest was a direct result of the fact that his twenty-one-year-old daughter spent a lot of time there throughout the week. He was a little overprotective of Sarah. Mrs. Snellman died when Sarah was fifteen, and since that time, he had raised her alone.

  So far there wasn't anything out of place about the club. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Nothing shady or underhanded had happened on the occasions that Renee had been present, just young people having a good time. Of course, there were the occasional issues, where someone got drunk and rowdy, but the security team seemed to handle the situations with ease. As any good reporter would do, she'd researched the club, and its owner before going there three weeks ago.

  All their permits and licenses were up to date, and they did a thorough check for underaged people. The club was filled with bouncers to ensure that no one got out of hand, and there had never been any complaints filed against the establishment or its owner. She hadn't seen any evidence of drug use in association to the club or the owner.

  **

  Lance stood near the bar with his younger brother Perry, looking at the activity of the club. He was proud of Perry. Lance had spent his youth hustling on the streets to make sure that Perry and his little sister Caroline would be able to go to college and live a better life. He never sold drugs or did anything illegal, but he used his head to create opportunities to make extra cash outside of his part-time job and school work.

  He was smart, and a lot of people in the impoverished areas of town needed his help with simple things like writing letters and understanding documents and their rights as tenants and employees. They would pay him a few dollars at a time, and he would stick it into a savings account and eventually invested some of it, and it allowed him to be able to pay for law school.

  Once he finished law school he was offered a job at a prestigious firm, and he made good money, enough money to support his family. When Perry came to him with the idea for the club, he realized that all that time spent working hard and helping others was well worth it. The money invested in his brother and Perry's business was worth it. Ultra was brimming with life and Lance could see that financing his brother's business marketing degree had been an even better investment. His sister Caroline was in her first year of college, and very soon he’d be able to have a life of his own.

  Perry excused himself, "I've got to take care of some things in the office. I'm delighted you came by." Perry said slapping his brother on the back and disappearing into the haze of people. Lance raised his glass to his mouth, pausing as he caught sight of a woman sitting near the dance floor.

  She didn't fit in with the image of the club. She was sexy, and thick just the way he liked them, but she seemed a little older than most of the people there, but then so was he. While most of the women wore halter-tops and short, short dresses, she wore a cotton tee shirt, her skirt stopped just above her knees giving him a glimpse of beautiful brown thighs as she sat on the high stool. She had on flat sandals in a matching shade of black.

  Although she was sitting, he guessed that she was about a half a foot shorter than him. Her skin reminded him of polished bronze. She was the kind of woman that he could hold in his arms. Her body was curvy, and she had a beautiful round face with full lips.

  Lance realized as he watched her for a few minutes that she seemed bored, even though she tapped her feet to the beat of the music. She sat observing the movement of people in the club while toying with an empty wineglass absentmindedly. If she wasn't enjoying herself, why was she there? Was she hoping to meet someone or perhaps she had been stood up? Then he noticed the other purses on the table. It was apparently a girl’s night out, and she had been left alone at the table.

  She checked her watch and let out a long breath as if she was thinking of a million other things she could be doing right now. Feeling a little impish, Lance downed his drink and smiled.

  **

  Renee knew why men didn't pay her the same kind of attention that they paid to her friends. Celia was a size three with long reddish-blond hair and gray eyes. She was perky and could easily be mistaken for a runway model. Ronda was a buxom light-skinned black girl with sparkling green eyes and long wavy hair. Men were attracted to them no matter where they went. Renee knew that men did not look at her that way. They never had, and she was used to it, but she wished that just once a handsome guy would pay her the same kind of attention. That for only a few mome
nts, he would focus on her and not her friends.

  Thoughts like those came from reading too many romance novels. Renee had been a love story addict since she was thirteen years old. There wasn't a scenario that she had not read or imagined and not one of them had ever happened to her, and she was pretty sure that they never would.

  Celia and Ronda returned to the table when the music slowed down. “Girl, when are you gonna dance?” Celia asked fanning herself.

  “I’ll dance with the first guy who asks me, okay?” Renee said sarcastically. As if that’s going to happen, she thought.

  As the song ended a spotlight popped to the middle of the floor and standing in the light like some Adonis statue from a museum was a man holding a microphone, and then the figure was moving, gliding across the floor and headed straight for their table.

  He moved up the three steps to their high table and stopped directly in front of Renee holding out his hand palm up, asking.

  His gesture was old fashioned and rarely practiced in modern settings. Renee's eyes widened in shock. Why on earth had he picked her?

  This had to be some ploy by her friends, joke, something to do with her birthday no doubt. She didn't like this one bit, and she was about to voice her feelings to her friends.

  Celia and Ronda urged her to take his hand. “Go, girl go. Take his hand. You said you'd dance with the first guy who asked." Music began to play. Marvin Gaye.

  The Adonis sang to her, “Like sweet morning dew, I took one look at you, and it was plain to see you were my destiny.” She loved this song, and for once she decided to just go with it. Okay, she thought to herself. I'll play along, but her girls were going to pay for this later.

  Lance held the microphone to her mouth as she placed her hand on his. “With arms open wide, I threw away my pride.” She had a confident, strong and beautiful voice, he thought as he led her to the center of the dance floor. “I’ll sacrifice for you, dedicate my life to you. I will go where you lead.”

  Lance pulled her into his arms, pressing her close to him as he led her around the nearly empty dance floor while the crowd applauded them. Her skin felt warm and soft. The scent of roses tantalized his senses as he touched his cheek to her soft, spongy hair.

  She was a little embarrassed, but she was beaming inside as they glided to the music. She closed her eyes. She half expected all her family to be sitting at the table when the song ended.

  His chest was broad and solid, and her skin tingled as he gently held her close to him, maybe just a little too close. Renee took a deep breath, the combination of his cologne and the heady scent of his skin caused crazy reactions to her body.

  Her nipples hardened against her will, as they rubbed the material that separated them. She prayed that he was not aware of her reaction to him. She was going to die of humiliation right there. This never happened with Mark. How could her body betray her like that? She wanted to move away from him, to run, but that would only make things worse.

  He could feel her body stiffening, what had happened in the space of a few minutes to make her so uncomfortable? When the song ended, she attempted to move away from him, but Lance held her tightly. “Stay with me just a little longer," he whispered in her ear causing her to shiver as she felt his lips graze the skin.

  The hair on the back of her neck stood at attention. Suddenly her panties felt damp, and she couldn't speak. She nodded her head once and inhaled deeply, she felt light headed. Although to Renee it felt as if they were alone, other couples had joined them on the floor.

  As the song began, Renee giggled. The lyrics seemed to be meant for her. Alessia Cara's Scars to Your Beautiful played as they danced. She just wants to be beautiful she goes unnoticed she craves attention she praises an image. She prays to be sculpted by the sculptor. That's just how she felt at that moment. The song summed up her existence.

  Emotions that Renee held captive began to break free from a secret, quiet place deep within. The strong arms that were wrapped around her made her feel safe and secure as if she could just relax and not worry about anything. Why couldn't Mark make her feel like that? She wanted to just relax and not always feel as though she had to be on guard.

  This man who had her out there dancing was good. He spun her out and brought her back into his arms and swayed his hips with her matching each of his very seductive moves. Renee briefly thought of Johnny and Baby dancing together at the end of Dirty Dancing. It was like they were made to dance together.

  By the end of the song, Renee felt very emotional. She could never show the world that she had feelings. No one could see how much she had needed that moment of comfort from a total stranger. She pulled free from him and moved quickly through the crowd to her table. She fought to regain her composure, to hide in the exterior persona that directed her life.

  He was right behind her when she sat down sideways in the chair throwing her arm over the back, crossing her legs. He knew something had changed, he could feel it. It was as if she were two people, the one he had held in his arms and this other person that was ignoring his very presence at the table.

  "Thanks for not making me look stupid out there." He said to Renee trying to gain some acknowledgment from her while waving to get a waitress' attention.

  Renee realized that this, man, had nothing to do with her birthday and that it had not been a ploy by her friends as he motioned for another round of drinks. Why didn't he just go away? She had danced with him. Did he have to make it worse by pretending that he was really interested in her when he had probably just used her to get close to her friends?

  Renee sat thinking of the movie, How to Be a Player. The main character used the ugliest girl at the party to get the other women to believe that he was sensitive and charming. Renee suddenly felt stupid. He was using her. The other women in the club must have thought that he had taken pity on her. She took a long, deep breath. She really wanted a ciggy, but she knew she couldn't have one, she needed to get out of there.

  The waitress returned with their drink order and several more drinks, pointing out several women that had them sent to the handsome devil. Celia was doing what she did best, flirting. She and Ronda had captured Lance’s attention, and Renee decided it was the perfect opportunity to make her get away. “Celia, why don't you let him spin you around the dance floor? He’s a great dancer.”

  That was all the encouragement Celia needed. She pulled Lance to the dance floor before he had a chance to protest. Renee waited until they had disappeared into the crowd before telling Ronda that she was leaving. “I’m outta here girl. Have a good time." She said throwing some cash on the table for her drinks and practically running out of the club as Ronda stared after her.

  Chapter Two

  Renee stepped into the foyer of her office a little before one o'clock on Monday. She very rarely took the opportunity to work at home, but this morning she needed the peace and solitude of her home office. On Sunday, Renee had been distracted by thoughts of the good-looking blonde man from the club. She barely heard the sermon from her pastor during the church services and had an even harder time concentrating on the Wellington article that afternoon. Why was it so hard to get him off her mind? She should have been thinking about Mark or anything other than that man. She couldn't get her mind off him, and it was frustrating her to no end.

  Jana, Renee’s secretary, stood to hand her a stack of messages as she approached her office. Jana was one of the biggest gossips’ in their building. If there was anything going on Jana knew about it. And from the look in her eyes, Renee knew, that something was going on. “Did you have a nice weekend?” Jana asked Renee curiously as she handed her the pile of message slips.

  “Yes, I did.” Renee said moving towards her office. Renee glanced at the closed door, then to Jana who was moving from behind the desk to follow her. What could she be hiding in Renee's office? It probably had something to do with her birthday, which was a little more than a week away.

  Renee turned the handle and pushed the do
or open. In various places throughout her office, there sat four dozen roses. “Wow. Where did those come from?"

  “I'm not sure, but I would say that either you were bad or exceptionally good this past weekend," Jana said suggestively. "They’ve been coming every hour since the office opened this morning.”

  Renee wanted to check the cards but knew that Jana would hang around until she found out who sent the roses, if she hadn't already peaked at the cards before Renee got there. “Oh, I bet these are from my family. You know my birthday is next week.” She said, hoping that Jana would believe her and go away.

  They couldn't be from her family. They all knew that while Renee did like roses, carnations and lilies were her favorite.

  Janna thought for a moment, then turned to leave the office. “I'm going to get some coffee; would you like anything from the kitchen?”

  “Sure, my usual would be great.” After Janna left Renee checked all the flowers, and there was only one card. It said just, From Mr. Right, with a phone number. Mr. Right, it had to be from the man she was interviewing today, the owner of Ultra. The spelling was incorrect, but if he had phoned the order in, the person at the flower shop could have made a mistake. She should at least call him to let him know she had received the flowers. Renee moved around the desk and went about setting up her laptop.

  "Here you go. Snellman wants to meet with you at two o’clock." Janna said as she placed a cup of coffee on Renee's desk.

  Renee sat down, took a sip of her coffee and picked up the phone and dialed the number on the card. The phone rang once, "Hello." Renee paused for a second. The voice sounded familiar, but she had never spoken to Perry Wreight.

  "Mr. Wreight, this is Renee Andrews, Thank you for the flowers. They are lovely, but you should know that this will not affect my review of your club. I'm looking forward to interviewing you for the magazine."

  Lance leaned back in his chair and turned it so that he could look out the window at the city. She thought he was his brother, Perry. He smiled, "I know that you are a professional. I was not trying to sway your opinion of the club in any way, and I'm looking forward to seeing you this afternoon as well." He said pausing. "We are still meeting at the club?" he asked, praying that his guess was right.