Mayoral candidate Myron Parker knows what he wants and pursues his ambitions with calculated precision. Tenaj Miller Isn't taken in by Myron's glib manner or sexy voice. She knows he's a playboy and wants nothing to do with him. A chance meeting across a crowded room is enough to spark an already smoldering need Myron never knew he needed. With forces determined to undermine Myron and Tenaj at every turn only one thing can save them both a marriage of convenience.
Tenaj Miller had no idea why she agreed to come to this dinner. She had to be totally out of her mind. She peered around the atrium, the lush, green vegetation and hot house flowers, a fragrant backdrop for a veritable who’s who of Detroit’s money and power. She glanced at her watch. Five minutes and she still didn’t see her boss.
She huffed. The man pressured her to be here and he wasn’t even in sight. She advanced a few more steps into the room, aiming for the large glass windows overlooking the water. If she didn’t see Oscar Wallingburg in the next few minutes she was leaving and whatever or whomever he wanted her to contact could make an appointment.
Tenaj gave the dress a vicious tug and cursed herself for wearing it. The long, black dress sparkled with strategically placed crystals while beautiful and flattering was backless which meant she couldn’t wear a bra and it had a split that wouldn’t quit. The vee in the bodice dived too deep for her modest tastes and she feared her boobs would pop out. The only thing she could say about the whole evening was her hair withstood the ordeal. She and her roommate, Corrine, had carefully curled her ebony tresses into tiny spirals and then pinned them up and to one side. The effect was a cascade of curls that fell over one shoulder. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in one of the windows. Her best friend said she had the sensual mystique of a sex goddess. Tenaj thought she looked foolish. From the moment she entered the ballroom she’d been aware of the covert and overt looks, along with whispered comments.. All the attention made her wish she hadn’t worn the dress. She silently cursed her roommate for talking her in to the dress from Hell. She would’ve been more comfortable in a business suit. Which no one in the ballroom wore. Even the servers were in bowties and cummerbunds. Still she longed for a conservative business suit or at least a dress not so revealing. Even though many of the women were similarly attired.
“Hmm baby you are fine!”
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