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had been born and bred in Brooklyn, had attended State University of New York at Buffalo, and had graduated with a degree in communications. She’d worked her way up through the ranks of three networks and two cable companies.

      In seventeen years since college graduation she’d shed her heavy accent, thick eyebrows and overbearing attitude, and had polished, injected and dieted away all other unseemly features.

      She’d studied women of power, and now she was the one wearing the expensive suit, carrying the top-of-the-line Louis Vuitton briefcase, having power lunches. She was now legally Emma Jones, a woman to be reckoned with.

      Emma hung up her phone, caressing the black receiver with her fingertip.

      Without looking up at Doreen she said, “I need you to go to Key West and end my engagement to Lucas.”

      Doreen blinked at her. “What?”

      “Break up with Lucas and I’ll give you five extra days of vacation.”

      “He’s expecting you to be there tomorrow.” All the respect Doreen had for Emma was sucked up by Greta’s vacuum cleaner as she moved by the executive’s outer door.

      Emma glanced at her iPhone and pouted for a fraction of a second. “I’m not going to Florida. You already knew that. I’m heading to the Poconos. Do this for me, and you can write your own ticket. Do you understand what that means, Doreen? This is how business is done.” She folded her hands and finally looked up. “Within reason, what would you like that I can do for you?”

      It was August, and suddenly Doreen felt like she was being treated to an early Christmas she didn’t deserve. Though her heart raced at the idea of meeting Lucas face-to-face, she couldn’t under these circumstances. “Lucas loves you, Emma.”

      Her lips popped out again. “No, he doesn’t. He loves what he thinks we have, but it’s not true. Lucas wants that more than anything. I’m too selfish for him. The last eight months have taught me a lot about myself. Besides, Lucas changed the rules. When I met him he was living up here and was a successful architect and builder, but after his job he moved back, and I understood. His business was growing by leaps and bounds there, but New York still has a lot to offer. His heart is in Florida with his mother and his friends, but mine isn’t.

      “Over time I thought I’d change my mind, but I haven’t. It’s too bad because he’s a good man. But at my level, I can get one of any race, any age.” She shrugged as if that was all there was to getting a man.

      “Ten days vacation,” Emma then offered, the heartfelt, melancholy woman of seconds ago gone. “Do you feel better?”

      Doreen hated to admit that she did. “Marginally.”

      Doreen decided not to make this easy. Emma would be gone soon, and extra vacation days under a new manager could easily be reversed. No, she wanted more.

      “Emma, months ago you said you’d recommend me for the new position of director of special events. I’d like to move forward with that now.”

      “Mmm.” Emma twisted her hands and her lips. “I’m not so sure you’d get it going from being my assistant. Dream a little smaller.”

      Doreen’s skin began to crawl. How dare she all but promise her the job, and now try to weasel out of it? And who’d told Shaquemma Rowena Johnson to dream small?

      Doreen got up and headed for the door. “Good night, Emma.”

      At Emma’s slow clap, Doreen turned. Their office was across from the Broadway theatres, but the theatrics in the office were overplayed. “I’m glad to see you have tenacity. That’s what the job needs. I’ll be glad to recommend you. Meet Lucas in the baggage claim area by the carousel.”

      Doreen didn’t turn around and kept her hand on the door.

      “I’ll wait five minutes for your glowing written recommendation, and then I’ll go to Key West and take care of this for you.” Doreen finally turned around.

      The fact that Emma was impressed showed in her quirked lip. “You’ve been doing your homework. Very good.”

      Doreen’s heart broke for Lucas. “I had a good teacher. I’ll need your credit card to make the reservations.”

      “It’s already on your desk.”

      Chapter 3

      Doreen held her stomach as it pitched during the bumpy landing. The bagel and cream cheese she’d eaten before takeoff now felt like a Michelin tire in her stomach.

      Nerves were getting the best of her. She didn’t like being the bearer of bad news or flying in rainstorms.

      But a much larger problem loomed as voluminous as the clouds that suffocated the Florida sky. She hadn’t broken up with a man since college, almost ten years ago. She’d been really cocky last night with Emma, but in the soggy light of day, she’d stared into her mirror and saw her unlined, amber-colored eyes, and the chicken in them was real.

      How was she going to tell Lucas, a man she secretly crushed on, that his relationship with Emma was over? Oh, and it was nice building this house with you long distance. Goodbye.

      This morning when she’d gotten up, she’d still been angry at Emma, and even now the anger simmered within her. She wanted to cry, but all she could do was squeeze out a throat-burning burp. Doreen pushed her fingers into a steeple formation around her forehead while she stared at the floor.

      What were the appropriate words to end another’s engagement?

      I’m sorry, but Emma doesn’t love you anymore.

      Emma sent me to break up with you.

      Emma’s an idiot.

      Oh, and by the way, I have a crush on you.

      All of it was just wrong.

      The plane bounced as it landed and taxied to the gate, and her stomach gurgled loud enough for the lady across the aisle to glance at her sympathetically. She watched the rain slant against the window, then unbuckled her seat belt and stood with the rest of the passengers.

      She retrieved her computer from the overhead compartment and silently waved goodbye to her luxurious accommodations in first class. If Emma wasn’t going to clean up her own mess, she was at least going to pay for a first-class garbage cleaner.

      Lucas watched Doreen in the two-piece black suit circle the baggage carousel, knowing she wasn’t his fiancée, but had been dispatched by her. New York women wore black as if it were prescribed by a physician exclusively for them.

      She was tall with a face like Vanessa Williams, except her color was a few shades deeper, reminding him of honey. She had an amazing body, curvy in places women were meant to be; soft and slim in all the right places, too. Her hair reminded him of summers in the Keys, with the way it hung down and breezed airily over her shoulder as she searched the airport. She looked down and saw the unmoving baggage carousel; her hand slid up to her neck and she stepped back, resting her weight on her left foot, hand on her hip.

      He was disappointed because his engagement was over, but he couldn’t help but feel he’d been granted a reprieve. One thing he did not understand: why didn’t the loss seem greater?

      Still he watched Doreen. Her collar was open, and she caressed her neck as she perused the baggage claim area and consulted her watch. Men noticed her, but she was oblivious to them, her actions indicating her schedule was tight. She kept reading a card she took out and reinserted into her pocket repeatedly. Was she practicing what she was going to say to him on behalf of Emma? Apparently this wasn’t a game to her.

      Finally the last of his heart broke with a clap of thunder.

      Doreen’s back bowed and he stepped out of the shadows.

      He was no longer engaged, and he needed to let his ex-fiancée’s assistant know that he knew.

      Lucas

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