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strong, firm hand.” Needing to vent, he told his brother about his trip to Beauty by Karma and his argument with Reagan. Morrison couldn’t believe how much their niece had changed since he’d become her legal guardian. Five years ago, Reagan was a chubby seventh grader who loved Harry Potter and the Nickelodeon channel, and now she was obsessed with boys, makeup and social media. Worst of all, she was pulling away from him, and it hurt like hell.

      “Mo, that’s the second time this month you’ve gone off the deep end, and I’m worried if it happens again, Reagan will leave for good, and none of us want to see that happen.”

      “Duane, relax. Reagan isn’t going anywhere, and once she quits that stupid job at Beauty by Karma things will go back to normal.”

      “I don’t know what your problem is. I love that place. Every time Erikah goes to get her hair and nails done, she comes home in a great mood.” Duane winked. “And horny as hell!”

      “That’s the problem. A beauty salon is no place for a young, impressionable teenager like Reagan, and if Karma won’t fire her I’ll just have to take matters into my own hands.”

      “What are you going to do?”

      Morrison wore a sly grin. “Use the Drake charm to get my way, of course.”

      “You sly dog!” Duane caught the ball midair with his right hand. “You asked Karma to be your date for Winston and Antoinette’s wedding next Saturday, didn’t you?”

      He raised an eyebrow. Was Duane out of his mind? Had he been drinking? Morrison would rather catch up on sleep than attend the Manhattan wedding of his childhood friend, but it was going to be the social event of the year, and he couldn’t skip it. Bringing a date was out of the question though. Born into wealth, the powerhouse couple had friends in high places, and political connections. And if Morrison wanted to achieve his goal of being the youngest person appointed to the Supreme Court he had to network his butt off, and everyone he wanted to meet would be at the wedding. “No way,” he said, shaking his head. “Karma’s not my type, and I don’t want anyone to think we’re a hot, new item—”

      “Mo, get out of here, Karma’s everybody’s type. Who doesn’t want a smart, successful beauty on their arm? Shoot, if I wasn’t happily married I’d be all over her.”

      “My focus is on Reagan right now, not hooking up with a feisty makeup artist.”

      “It should be. In the fall she’ll be going off to college, and you’ll be home alone with nothing to do and nowhere to go.”

      “Reagan’s going to live at home, not on campus,” he explained, nodding his head to emphasize his point. “Dormitories are dangerous, and I don’t want her to get hurt.”

      “You worry too much. She’ll be fine. Quit stifling her, or she’ll rebel.”

      Morrison scoffed, not giving his brother’s advice a second thought. “You know nothing about raising a teenager. Your kids are still in diapers, and they run you ragged!”

      The brothers laughed.

      “Go out with Karma,” Duane advised, bouncing the ball absently on the court. “It’ll be good for you. You need to quit hanging out at home 24/7 and get back in the dating game.”

      Ready to start their match, Morrison dropped to one knee and retied his shoelaces. “Are we going to play, or stand around talking about the ladies for the rest of the morning?”

      “Neither. Let’s go inside and grab a cold one. Erikah’s forcing me to do a thirty-day cleanse with her, and I’m craving a beer. And French fries.”

      Morrison chuckled. “I’m glad I’m single. You’re a sorry case, D!”

      “And you’re jealous,” Duane countered, wearing a proud smile. “You wish you had a beautiful, sexy woman to come home to every night.”

      A vision of Karma dressed in a flimsy negligee and red-heeled pumps flashed in his mind. His thoughts took an erotic detour, filled with explicit images of the beauty salon owner with the silky, mile-long legs. Giving his head a shake, he tossed the tennis ball high in the air and smacked it powerfully with his racquet. “Game on.”

      “Mo, take it easy!” Duane shouted, running for cover as the ball whizzed past his face. “I’m a father of four, not a ten-time Wimbledon champion!”

       Chapter 4

      Morrison glanced at the clock on the dashboard of his SUV, realized he had an hour to kill before picking up Reagan from Beauty by Karma and contemplated visiting Roderick at his estate. He’d had so much fun at the sports complex with Duane, he was missing his youngest brother, and wanted to touch base with him. Two weeks earlier, during their monthly fishing trip to Shinnecock Inlet, they’d butted heads and their argument still left a bitter taste in Morrison’s mouth. After downing one too many beers, Roderick had become loud and belligerent aboard Morrison’s Scout 350, disrupting the serene and peaceful atmosphere. The gleaming, white vessel was the Mercedes-Benz of boats, and when Roderick threw up on the platform Morrison had lost his temper. Told Roderick he had a drinking problem and needed professional help. Filled with remorse, Roderick had agreed to pay for the boat to be detailed, but Morrison had yet to see a dime.

      Hanging out with Duane had put him in a good mood, made him forget about his argument with Reagan at the beauty salon. For hours, he’d played in the hot sun, and by the time they went inside for lunch it was two o’clock.

      What a match! Morrison thought with a wry smile. Duane had surprised him by winning the first game, but he’d battled back to win the next three. While eating burgers and fries, they’d talked about their parents, their careers and the groom’s bachelor party next Friday. They were planning to drive to Manhattan together after work, and Morrison hoped Roderick could join them. These days, he didn’t go anywhere without his bride-to-be, and Morrison was tired of Roderick putting his fiancée first and his family last. Toya Janssen had a girl-next-door vibe, but Morrison didn’t think she was the right woman for his brother.

      Arriving home that afternoon, Morrison had showered and changed into a short-sleeve denim shirt, blue jeans and navy loafers. After he dropped Reagan off at his parents’ estate, he was meeting his poker buddies at The Long Island Bar & Grill and hoped they had some good news for him. Morrison needed his friends to work their connections and get him an invitation to the political fund-raising gala in Washington next month. It was the hottest ticket in town, and he had to be there. Couldn’t afford to miss the exclusive, black-tie event. If he was lucky he’d meet the vice president, or his chief of staff. That’s all Morrison needed. An introduction, and he’d be one step closer to making history.

      Morrison narrowed his gaze. Gripping the steering wheel, he leaned forward in his seat. What the hell? Spotting Reagan exiting Beauty by Karma, he sped through the intersection. Pulling up to the curb, he lowered the passenger side window. “Reagan, where are you going?” he asked.

      “Ms. Karma said I could leave early, and I didn’t want to wait around for you.”

      Disappointment flooded his body. Morrison had hoped to see Karma again. He’d convinced himself it was because he wanted to talk to her about his niece, but it was a lie. Sure, he wanted her to honor his request and fire Reagan, but he was attracted to Karma and wanted to get to know her better—especially in the bedroom. The salon owner was a vivacious beauty who wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, and even though they’d butted heads that morning, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Fantasizing about her. Imaging them making love—

      “You can leave. You don’t need to wait around. Zainab’s coming to pick me up.”

      “Why didn’t you call me?”

      “Because I’m not a baby. I can take care of myself.”

      “Get in. We can talk on the way to your grandparents’ house.”

      Reagan

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