In Love by Design (The Adventures of Anabel Axelrod) Read online

  Seeing Crookie’s eyes widen at her rooting hand, I called out, “Enjoy!”

  I hurried back to the kitchen and my shaking sister. We held our sides in silent mirth and watched the back of Crookie’s rigid head and shoulders while Tre dived repeatedly into the bag to happily munch on one piece of popcorn at a time. After a few moments of our juvenile fun, Jazy mopped her eyes and returned to her story.

  “Let’s see, PC continued to mentor James throughout his teens and college years and, of course, he used his influence to help James get into the right schools. PC wanted James to mingle with the kind of people who would later become his major clients, or the types to be of use when networking in the business world of high finance.”

  I wrinkled my nose thinking that also sounded familiar, but I guess Mike McClain and PC were right. In a professional capacity, it’s a fact of life that sometimes who you know was just as important as what you know. However, being an obnoxious boor ass like Mike in the process was optional.

  “James went to the International School through high school. He got his under grad at Hamline University, where he double majored in Finance and International Business.”

  I interjected a question with a little laugh, “Geez Jaz, did James slip you his resume to memorize or did you ninja him?”

  “Ha ha, neither. His mom told me. She’s been taking some riding lessons this past month at the Lazy J and we’ve become pals.” Jazzy laughed despite the popcorn in her mouth and added, “There’s nothing that woman likes blabbing about more than her whiz-kid son.”

  I smiled at that. It seems to be a common trait with mothers.

  “His mother’s English name is Patricia. Anyway, Patty says James could have gone to Harvard for his graduate degree in Economics, but instead he went to the University of Chicago, so he’d be closer to home for her sake.”

  “Oh, what a pity James had to settle for such a second rate school,” I mocked lightly. “So, James does have a fault. He’s a mama’s boy!”

  Jazzy giggled into her wine glass. “It’s true they’re close. Patty must have been about fifteen when she had James, so she looks like his older sister. Let me tell you, she talks so much, it’s probably the reason James doesn’t. Poor guy probably couldn’t get a word in edgewise growing up. No, the real reason he stayed near home was because Patty was real sick for a while there and James wanted to be able to keep an eye on her.”

  “Yikes, he is perfect then.” I muttered, draining off the last drop in my own goblet.

  Jaz nodded back. “Yep, ‘fraid so. PC hired James into his firm and groomed him over the years to take up the reins when he retired. Now this is the sad thing; PC died of cancer a few months ago. The poor guy only got to enjoy one year of retirement!” My sister sighed, but then her eyes got big and she leaned forward in excitement. “James had already made a name in the business and has money up the hoo-ha, but then he got the friggin’ surprise of his life. PC left him the investment firm and everything else he owned in the world! James had no idea he was even in PC’s will! How cool is that?”

  I twirled my empty goblet in my hands. “You’re right, that’s a cool Cinderfella story, except for PC dying.” I put the glass down with a clink on the granite island and sat back on my stool. “Let’s see, we have one poor little rich man James Byrd. He loves his mother, screws like he’s going for the gold in gymnastics at the Sexolympics—not that I’m judging, and he helps my sister because....?” I trailed off with brows raised.

  Jazy laughed merrily and replied, “Hey, hold your horses, I was getting there! Yes, James is incredibly hot and he comes off a little arrogant because he’s quiet, but he’s really not an asshole. Anyway, in his mother’s honor and in PC’s honor, James likes to help out women in their own businesses to become a success. His time is mainly geared towards Native Indian women start-ups, but he likes to spread the love to us paleface businesswomen every once in a while. James has so much money; he doesn’t ever have to work a day in his life again, but…”

  “But the money doesn’t drive him,” I finished her sentence with another twirl of my empty glass, “it’s the challenge of it all.”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what his mom said!” Jazy shook her head at me. “See, I knew you’d like him once I told you his story.”

  Holding the bottle of wine up to Jazy, at her nod I poured us each a half a glass. “So, Jaz-ma-taz, you want me to approach James Byrd to see if he will take me on as a client, too? Is that what this is all about?”

  Jazy shook her head and squirmed a little while I took a sip of wine and watched her. I hid my smile against the goblet. My sister is a forthright woman and undercurrents make her nervous.

  She rested her crossed arms on the island top and confided, “Not entirely. I already know he’d take you on as a client because he asked me if I thought you’d be receptive to a meeting. My feeling is James Byrd’s personally interested in you.” She chewed her lip in thought and then shrugged. “Maybe I should say he was interested in you. To tell you the truth, I don’t know what the fuck he’s thinking about you because he’s hard to read. Like I said, a couple of weeks ago he mentioned having a meeting with you to talk over the possibilities. I told him that you’d never invest money or work with a man you had the remotest chance of dating, so he’d need to be clear on that from the get go.”

  I said noncommittally, “This is true. What else?”

  Jazy pursed her lips and thought for a second more. “Well, I think James knows you are dick whipped by Luke.” She grinned while swatting away the popcorn I fired at her head. “At this point, he’s probably only interested in working with you and I believe you could depend on James to be professional. He’s solid. You should talk to Charles Barkley and hear his opinion.”

  “Sure, I’ll ask Mr. Barkley about James Byrd, the financial wizard. He’s been bugging me to choose another money man.” Jazy’s eyes widened at this. Sighing, I answered her look. “Yeah, Mr. Barkley’s insisting he’s getting old and wants me settled with someone trustworthy.” I reached across the island and patted my sister’s hand. “You’re good at sensing what people are made of, Sister Whisperer. If you’ve inspected his teeth and tell me James Byrd’s character is solid, that’s all I need to hear.”

  Jazy snorted, but was smiling. “Ah shucks, I was only being bitchy when I said you don’t take my advice. I know you love me. Now quit being dainty and poor me a full glass of wine this time.”

  Chapter II

  “Baby It’s You (’69)” by Smith

  Thursday, 12/06/12

  10:20 PM

  The drive from Mac’s house to my back parking lot is only a few blocks. By no means done with my list of problems, I have to pause in my mental recital to concentrate on parking in my garage. Reggie always checks for new scrapes on the sides of the jeep’s tires due to my propensity for sharking curbs and other obstructions. The little Narc actually takes pictures with his phone and shares the before and after shots with Jack Banner for a good belly laugh at my expense. I’ve been trying to ruin their fun by paying extra attention to my driving.

  Exiting the garage, I squinted at the wide pool of white light spilling out on the ground before me from the motion detector fixture mounted on the overhead peak. My eyes still haven’t made it to an optician for a check-up, but I don’t remember this light being so brightly penetrating. Normally, the spookiness of this shadowy back lot propels me to run like a scaredy cat from my garage to the safety zone of the well-lit back entrance to Bel’s. Tonight I wasn’t getting the usual creeps.

  ‘Weird,’ I mused, turning around and shading my eyes to look up at the light. Something wasn’t right, but I couldn’t come up with a reason why a brighter light would signify anything wrong. If the light bulb was burnt out and it was dark, I’d park out front under the streetlights and have a hand on my gun. There is no way I’m falling for that Serial Killer 101 trick.

  Feeling the winter night’s chill creeping through my tweed blazer and up my th
in stockings, I shook off my unease and strode quickly towards the idling black Lexus. James had the driver window down and Jazy leaned forward in her seat. As they both watched me approach, she said something that I couldn’t hear but caused him to nod.

  I reached the driver’s door and James asked, “Everything okay, Anabel?’

  Jazy was frowning when she hurriedly put in, “We’ll wait until you get into the apartment and flash a light.”

  “No need, I’ll be fine.” I assured them and smiled warmly. “Thanks for the jump and for following me, but go ahead and take off. I have a stack of cookie sheets to unload for Anna.”

  James immediately made to come help me, but I put a hand on the door to prevent him exiting and laughed. “Please, they’re dirty trays and you guys are all spiffed up. Really, I don’t need your help. Jazy, tell him how strong I am.”

  Jazy just continued to look anxious and I motioned back at the light. “Look, it’s like daytime back here and I live all by my lonesome, remember?” I patted the purse hanging at my side. “I’ve got Rita Ruger in here to protect me. Please, off with you to join the beautiful people, Jaz, so they can drool over your good taste in dresses.”

  My sister looked dubious still, but then gave in and shared a conspiratorial grin over the dress.

  James nodded to me. “If you’re sure you don’t need any help, then good night. I’ll see you on Monday?”

  “Yes, thanks, on Monday.” Stepping back, I gave a final wave when they pulled away and turned back to the garage.

  James’ reference was to our second business meeting scheduled for next Monday. Thinking about our first meeting brought me back to the list of my woes. I scowl, which is my reaction every time my mind touched on the disquieting news James shared with me a week ago.

  Opening the back of Lady Liberty, I started absently grabbing and stacking scattered cookie trays while I thought again, for the hundredth time, about the puzzle he’s plopped into my lap that I had yet to decide if I should solve.

  After Jazy told me about James Byrd’s financial acumen, I talked with Mr. Barkley. He not only agreed with my sister, but James Byrd’s name was first on Mr. Barkley’s short list of future financial advisors he was recommending. He was tickled pink when I agreed to make an appointment.

  For our first business meeting, we’d met at Mr. Barkley’s house last Thursday evening for dinner. He was cooking while James Byrd and I got better acquainted in the attached sitting area open to his kitchen. I was aware Mr. Barkley was keeping tabs on our conversation because I’d catch a smile flitting across his lips every now and then while he fixed our meal.

  Understanding James isn’t just another arrogantly pretty face, but has a heart, brains, and is somewhat of a sexual deviant made his perfect looks interesting to me and no longer off-putting.

  James came to our meeting dressed in business casual clothes. He looked no different than any other successful businessman you see everywhere, minus a few exceptions. The differences started with the shining silk waterfall of black hair falling over his broad shoulders. This is followed closely by the stunning, chiseled bone structure of his face that caused a hitch in a woman’s breath at the first glimpse of his male beauty. To these attributes, add a muscular physique that most men would cut off their right nut to possess, and now thanks to my sister, I vividly imagine compelling twenty women into performing sexual Cirque du Soleil acts. Other than that, James Byrd is your average billionaire.

  Coming straight from the bookstore, I was comfortably dressed for our meeting in jeans, a navy Bel’s T-shirt, and sitting cross-legged in my stocking feet on the sofa.

  After the polite small talk ran its course, James sat back on the loveseat across from mine and measured me from inscrutable midnight eyes. I appraised him back, but my eyes probably weren’t as inscrutable. I have it on good authority from my absentee lover that my eyes are sparkling blue sapphires alive with secret, smart-ass laughter even when my face is dead serious.

  James finally broke our staring contest by shifting forward in his seat and informing me in a quiet voice, “You have too much to lose by continuing to steal untaxed income from your company with the methods you’ve been using.”

  He waited a beat and I didn’t reply because while I heard James, my attention had been snagged by discovering a physical imperfection when he opened his mouth. His left incisor was slightly crooked and very pointed, like a vampire. This tiny flaw didn’t detract from his male beauty, but brought me to my senses. James Byrd isn’t a statue to be stared at, but a living, breathing man comprised of everything that makes us human, good and bad. It’s not his fault he just happens to have been born very, very good on the outside. He probably gets so sick and tired of being lusted after for his looks, not to mention his money.

  I swear I’m serious.

  I decided then and there to treat James Byrd like any other average-looking guy and never acknowledge his gorgeousness or his immense wealth. We’d be pals, too, and he’d never have to worry about me wanting him for anything but friendship. This would be my payback for James being so kind to Jazy. It wasn’t much, but the least I could do for the man that probably has everything money can buy—including most females.

  James realized I wasn’t going to jump in and continued speaking, “Those methods were fine and dandy back in the day, Anabel, but we live in the computer age now. Patterns of any kind are not a good thing, even innocuous patterns. I have printouts to show you how I picked up on everything you’ve been doing.”

  Absently, I nodded in agreement and accepted the printouts he offered, but didn’t read them. “I’m sure you’re right and can show me better ways to steal my own money,” I waved my arm with a reproachful look directed towards the kitchen, “since Mr. Barkley never would.”

  Mr. Barkley choked in the kitchen, but James only smiled briefly. “Good for him. We’ll come up with much better, legal ways,” James stressed the word legal, “to satisfy your larcenous desires to beat the government from getting your money.”

  I cheerfully nodded my agreement again. Part of using a professional’s services is remembering they are the professional and you aren’t. It’s a good idea to think over their advice before you chuck it and follow your own. Besides, if I heard James correctly, he just told me it’s the patterns that gave me away, so I’d have to rethink my methodology. Then we’ll see if he can detect what I’m doing. That could be fun.

  “Charlie has done a great job of growing your portfolio and increasing your net worth, especially these last five years. I see a few ways my strategies would have differed, but overall you are building a tidy fortune.” James turned towards the kitchen. “I’m impressed, sir.”

  At James Byrd’s compliments, I carefully did not look towards the kitchen this time to see Mr. Barkley’s face. Not that I needed to look, since I could feel the beam of his proud grin from where I sat.

  I’ve done the bulk of the investing of my own money for the past few years. Mr. Barkley’s role has become that of an overseer providing guidance. It’s been a while since he’s strongly disagreed with any of my financial choices. Initially, Mr. Barkley got feisty over my suggestion that we don’t give me the credit, as he’s proud as a papa bear over my developing investments skills under his tutelage.

  Explaining my rationale, I ended his resistance by intoning with a straight face, “Two is one and one is none.”

  I’ve known the man since I was knee-high, so the ex-marine Mr. Barkley only laughed and called me “saucypants” for using one of his favorite quotes to endorse redundancy. In this instance, two watchdogs are better than one. My new money man doesn’t need to know the degree to which I understand the finer points of investing. At least, not until I totally trust him.

  “I agree that Mr. Barkley is the best man ever.” I smiled fondly over at my banker and watched him wag a warning finger my way for embarrassing him before getting back to his chopping. “I’ve been a lucky girl to have him for my entire life.”


  At my soft comment, James turned his piercing regard my way once more. Since we were talking about my money, and I’d made my vow to make James more comfortable as payback for Jazy, everything about the physical man faded completely into the background. I concentrated on the business at hand.

  Watching his face for a reaction, I said seriously, “James, it’s important the next person I choose wants to develop that same kind of business relationship with me. To be blunt, I am not a woman looking for an impersonal fund management firm without a face, or short term help until my business is successful.” I motioned to the papers in his open briefcase and smiled a little. “I already am by my standards, but I intend to keep growing my tidy fortune. What I am seeking is a long term business partnership with a financial genius that lives for this stuff and is okay with me being in the thick of things. This person needs to want to make gobs of money with me while showing me their ropes and helping me expand.”

  James tented his fingers and stared back at me steadily. Jazy was right; James Byrd is very hard to read. I flashed briefly to the poker table that night at my brother’s house when I first met James. His pile of chips had been nearly as large as Luke’s.

  Then James gave a little nod, as if coming to a decision. “Charles already indicated as much, so I’ve had time to think this over before tonight. I’m a financial genius, as you call it, and those general terms of a long term business partnership are acceptable. I’ll steer you to that next level, and the next.” His measured response in his firm voice eliminated any immodest sense of bragging and I appreciated James’ factual attitude regarding his skills. I don’t want to spend my time shoring up any big egos to get the best performance. Although, I’m sure Mr. Barkley wouldn’t suggest someone of that caliber for me anyway. “I’ve been blessed with a great education and a greater mentor in my life. I don’t discount the value of that, but what I also have is sharp instincts. I listen to my instincts when it comes to people.” He smiled, not in self-deprecation, but with the confidence of a man who is comfortable in his beliefs and not bothering to hide it. I consider this another positive point in James’ favor. “Perhaps it stems from my heritage, but I rarely regret a decision I’ve made from acting on these instincts.”