Pretty Packages Read online

  Pretty Packages

  Copyright © March 2010, Mi’Chelle Dodson

  Cover art by Anastasia Rabiyah © March 2010

  Amira Press

  Baltimore, MD21216

  www.amirapress.com

  ISBN: 978-1-936279-09-8

  No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and e-mail, without prior written permission from Amira Press.

  Dedication

  To God from whom all blessings flow.

  Chapter One

  Oooh . . . he sho’ is ugly, Giada Dawson mused, misquoting a line from The Color Purple upon seeing her very unattractive neighbor mowing his lawn across the street on that sunny spring day.

  Despite her condescending thoughts, she nodded in polite greeting to Kentucky Jones—the object of her scorn. No need to let him know how she really felt about him. As neighbors, she might need him for something one day.

  Kentucky nodded politely in return, paused to wipe the sweat from his brow, and continued with his task.

  Brother has a nerve to make the ugly worse by being sweaty and dirty, Giada thought, unlocking the trunk of her sky-blue BMW with the press of a button. He’s lucky I even spoke to him at all.

  She turned her head to hide her wince of distaste at the man whose face only his mother could love. Giada didn’t make a habit of associating with unattractive men. Unless they had money or were willing to run errands for her, she found them a complete waste of her gorgeous time.

  Kentucky didn’t look like he had any money, or rather, not much, not the kind of money Giada was looking for in a man. If he did, he wouldn’t be living in this lower middle-class neighborhood. This same neighborhood was one step up from the hood, three steps down from where Giada wanted to be—in the elite upper class.

  The only thing he has going for him is that body. She turned to assess her neighbor’s physique.

  At six-four, Kentucky was solidly built with rippling muscles from head to toe. He looked like he stayed in one of Miami’s many gyms. There was no fat anywhere on his large frame. Every muscle group was well defined.

  If he wasn’t so ugly, he might have qualified to be one of my little boy toys, Giada thought, referring to the men who she used just for sexual pleasure when she was in between relationships like she was now.

  She never lied to her boy toys, and they didn’t have to have much money to be with her. All they needed was a fine body, bedroom skills, and the considerable stamina needed to keep up with her overactive libido.

  Though Kentucky had the body, and very likely the stamina based on how long and how hard he usually worked to make his lawn the best on the block, his face cancelled him out in Giada’s book. It cancelled him way out.

  He looks like he could be Arnold Schwarzenegger’s uglier little brother, she thought, closing the door to her trunk now that she’d gotten all of her groceries out of the car.

  Though Kentucky did look like the actor-turned-California-governor in Giada’s mind, there were some key differences. First of all, he was at least thirty years younger and two inches taller than Arnold. Secondly, Kentucky’s teeth had no gaps, and he had a slightly larger nose.

  I bet he can smell chicken frying from a mile away with that schnauzer. Giada’s own nose wrinkled with a frown.

  Suddenly feeling gypped, Giada started to wonder if the Realtor had deliberately showed her the house on a day when Kentucky was at work. I just know he’s scaring all the little kids on the block. She almost wanted to pack up her things and move at the prospect of seeing Kentucky’s ugly mug every day.

  But she couldn’t.

  Giada just bought this house and couldn’t afford to move right away, especially not on the money she made from her paralegal job or from the rental income she received from leasing her deceased grandmother’s old house.

  Matter of fact, neither Giada’s current job nor her rental income had put her in this new house. Six months’ worth of dating a wealthy NBA player had given her the capital she needed to buy this house and finally move out of the hood where she’d been staying in the run-down home she inherited.

  Joaquin was a newly signed player with the Orlando Majestics when Giada met him through the entertainment lawyer she worked for. It had taken half a year, but she’d charmed him out of thousands of dollars in jewelry, shopping trips, and even a new car.

  When Giada caught Joaquin with another woman, she didn’t freak out. Instead, she parted with him on amicable terms. Giada understood that infidelity usually walked hand in hand with that kind of career. Plus, she had bigger fish to fry if she was going to get everything on her ever-growing wish list.

  After that relationship ended, Giada pawned all the jewelry Joaquin had given her. Then she used those funds to renovate her grandmother’s house and also put a substantial down payment on this house. Though Joaquin wanted them to continue dating because of how well she’d taken his infidelity, Giada refused. She never shared herself or her man when in an exclusive relationship.

  Never!

  If the relationship was casual, that was different. But if the relationship was exclusive, then consensual sharing resulted in the loss of respect and gifts. Giada couldn’t have that. Besides, as gorgeous as she was, Giada didn’t feel like she had to share anyone or anything.

  Standing at five-three, she had long, wavy black hair and a slender frame that was packed with curves. She didn’t need a man to tell her she was beautiful and fine. Her mirror confirmed that fact every time she looked into it. Most men said she reminded them of a young Salli Richardson, just with a plumper bottom, deeper skin tone, and bigger breasts.

  I paid good money for these girls, Giada thought, looking down at her perky Ds. They were a high school graduation gift from a male teacher who she’d secretly had an affair with during her twelfth-grade year.

  Wonder what ever happened to him. Giada toted her groceries inside. She’d broken things off with that teacher right before going off to college. She dropped him like a hot potato, in fact. She hadn’t looked back since.

  “Hey, Mercedes,” Giada cooed, forgetting about all men as she greeted her beloved pet Chihuahua, a pet that she named after the dream car that she had yet to cross off her wish list.

  * * * *

  When Giada turned her back to Kentucky, he scowled. He knew a gold digger when he saw one.

  As a man with several psychology and psychiatry courses behind him, Kentucky also knew the signs of a person trying to fulfill emotional needs with material things. Giada fit the bill on both occasions.

  As a professional bodyguard to the rich and famous, it was his job to keep women like Giada away from his clients. He did his best to keep them far, far away.

  They will sell or rent a house to anybody in this neighborhood now. Kentucky remembered when only two-parent families resided in this community. Now they had single women on Section 8 dotting the neighborhood. Kentucky saw nothing wrong with that in and of itself. He was all for giving others a helping hand.

  It was just that some of those Section 8 mothers had more kids than they could handle, which led to more unsupervised children roaming the neighborhood. Many of those women also had sleepover boyfriends who cared nothing about helping them maintain the properties they rented.

  Mama really ought to let me move her out of here, Kentucky thought, ready to bring up that topic again.

  But he already knew how that conversation would go. Hannah Jones would go on and on about how she treasured the home she moved into soon after marrying his beloved father. This was the same home she continued to raise Kentucky in when his father died nearly twelve years later.

  Then Hannah would talk about how most of her
friends were still living in this neighborhood. She would share how she wanted to remain in her home, a home that contained precious memories in every room, for as long as she could.

  After those potent reminders, Kentucky would drop the subject of moving yet again. Then he would head back to the upper east side of town where he lived now. At least he did when he wasn’t traveling with one of his many clients or spending the night at his stepmother’s after being fed another one of her bountiful meals. Lately he’d been spending a lot of nights at his childhood home due to a surge of break-ins in the area.

  Kentucky could afford to live on the upper east side for two reasons. One, he got paid very well to guard the lives of his clients and their loved ones. Two, as the owner of an MBA in business and finance, he’d made a fortune in wise investments. In fact, Kentucky had done so well with his investments that he was now closer to making a longtime dream come to pass—the establishment of a coed boarding school for fatherless children grades seventh through twelfth.

  With a little extra funding, that dream would become a reality within a year.

  But no need to ever let his stepmother’s new neighbor know all that. Although Kentucky couldn’t help but find Giada attractive just like any other heterosexual man would, he didn’t want or need a woman going after him strictly for his money.

  If only his body didn’t tighten with desire every time he saw her.

  * * * *

  After putting up her groceries, Giada went to her living room window and looked out. She could still hear the lawn mower running from across the street.

  He’s not done with that yard yet? She peeked through the blinds just in time to see Kentucky turn the mower off.

  “Finally!” Giada said under her breath.

  Suddenly she gasped. A moan followed as Kentucky proceeded to pull off his white T-shirt and use it to wipe the sweat from his face, neck, and chest. A pool of desire gathered in Giada’s nether regions and throbbed with need at all the muscles she saw on the man’s tanned chest.

  Kentucky truly was rippled with muscles. Every muscle group could be seen. He had an eight-pack for a stomach, and his waist came to a sensual V before exploding into powerful hips and thighs.

  Giada moaned again as Kentucky ran the T-shirt over his short dark brown locks to remove some of the moisture collected there. Her fingers tingled, literally tingled, to touch him and roam over all the muscles she saw there.

  Suddenly Giada snatched back from the window.

  Had Kentucky turned and caught her staring at him in lust?

  No, Giada caught herself. She wasn’t about to stand there and keep lusting after a man she didn’t want to want. Kentucky wasn’t worth the time of day to pursue in any way, shape, form, or fashion.

  So why did Giada suddenly feel the need to take a cold shower?

  Chapter Two

  June

  Kentucky saw Giada away from her house for the first time two months later on a hot night that announced that it was indeed summertime in Florida. She was among the crowd at a popular nightclub that he still did bouncer work for on occasion.

  Kentucky usually stuck to just bodyguard work. Yet, since the owner of the club had given him his first break into the world of protection services and was very instrumental in getting him high-end clients over the years, he did this favor as needed and whenever his schedule allowed.

  Instead of sexy office attire or skimpy around-the-house wear, Giada was dressed in a black catsuit tonight. That racy outfit had cutouts on the sides, in the front, and in the back, which left very little to the imagination.

  Kentucky felt his lower body tighten at all the skin Giada showed tonight. Fortunately, he was able to will his libido down quickly with the self-control techniques he’d practiced over the years in order to keep himself constantly composed.

  With his mind clear again, Kentucky noticed what he had missed before—Giada was not alone. She was on the arm of a guy who he recognized as an up-and-coming rap artist named Smooth-Tip. The rapper’s large entourage was also with them.

  When Giada got close enough to recognize him, Kentucky saw surprise in her eyes. They exchanged no words, only the usual brief nod that they often shared whenever they saw one another in passing.

  Good. Kentucky didn’t mix business with pleasure anyway. Plus, he really didn’t want to associate pleasure with Giada at all.

  Talk about danger. Kentucky felt sorry for the man she was with tonight. He almost wanted to warn the guy. But since the rapper wasn’t a personal client of his, Kentucky decided to let him find out the hard way what kind of woman he had.

  After losing a few thousand, he’ll be wiser next time, Kentucky thought, shooting Giada a sideways glance as she sensually switched her hips through the doors of the club. I hope she’s worth parting with all that dough. Yet he knew women like her seldom were.

  * * * *

  Giada was surprised to see Kentucky standing in front of the nightclub tonight. She had no idea what his profession was until now. Now she understood why his car was never parked outside the Joneses’ house until very late at night. He was working.

  With that mean mug and that huge body, this is the best career for him. Giada suddenly couldn’t help but wonder how much professional bouncers earned. After all, the clothes Kentucky had on tonight were far from cheap.

  The leather boots he wore had to be tailor-made for his large feet, and his jeans were the most expensive brand in menswear. The only inexpensive thing on Kentucky’s body was the black club logo T-shirt he wore over that large chest of his.

  Whatever he makes is nothing compared to what Smooth-Tip makes in a day from record sales alone. Giada returned her attention completely back to the man she was with. This was the same man she intended to charm out of several thousand dollars before she called it quits.

  If only Giada could forget how fine Kentucky looked in all black with his biceps bulging like mountain ranges.

  * * * *

  Things did not go as well as Giada thought they would tonight. Her date turned out to be a total dud. She wasn’t too surprised.

  What else could I expect from a rapper? Giada readily lumped all rappers in the same pile, even though there were probably some true gentlemen in the bunch.

  Though Giada started her life as a subtle gold digger during high school in order to take care of herself and the elderly grandmother who raised her, she had deliberately stayed away from rappers, wannabe or otherwise. They reminded her too much of the thugs she’d grown up around.

  Giada might not have listened to everything her grandmother tried to instill in her growing up, but she had listened to some things. One was to stay away from thugs and those involved with illegal activities. As a result, a grown-up Giada had only dated wealthy businessmen, professional athletes, and men with access to trust funds.

  Her specialty was men with new money since they were easier prey. Men who’d been accustomed to wealth for years tended to be more suspicious, vigilant about their associates, and more discerning of gold diggers. They were also harder to get gifts from unless they were old as Methuselah and ready to give a twenty-three-year-old woman like Giada anything to make them feel young again.

  Tonight Giada gained all the extra incentive she needed to never date another rapper again. First of all, most of them kept too many people around. Every time she tried to work her charm on Smooth-Tip tonight, his entourage would interrupt.

  That same entourage seemed to want to start a fight in every room. It was as if they didn’t know how to have peace with anybody. Or perhaps they just wanted to be seen by everybody. Giada still didn’t know what their problem was.

  Finally fed up with the whole scene, she asked Smooth-Tip if they could go back to his place for more privacy. Of course he agreed . . . but only if his crew could come with.

  Then, when Smooth-Tip started talking about running a gang bang on her and the other ladies that his entourage had picked up in the club, Giada got up and walked out. Sadly
, she was the only woman in the group who did.

  “I may be a lot of things, but even I know that gangbanging is for sluts,” Giada muttered angrily to herself as she stood outside the club minutes later, waiting for the first available cab. “And I’m definitely not one of those.”

  “What are you then?” someone with a deep, rural-sounding voice suddenly asked from behind her.

  * * * *

  After his shift ended, Kentucky went to say goodnight to Sal Delfino, the club owner. When he exited the club, he noticed Giada standing outside alone. Since she had not arrived alone, he went over to investigate.

  His unexpected question to Giada was not necessarily one of inquiry since Kentucky already knew what she was. Rather it was one fit for pondering, a question to get Giada thinking about what she was and why.

  Kentucky didn’t mean to startle her with his question and sudden appearance at her side. He didn’t mean for her to nearly jump out of her skin, causing the black purse in her hands to drop to the ground, fly open, and spill its contents everywhere.

  Giada’s cell phone went one way. The key ring holding her emergency credit card and home and car keys went another. Various tubes of makeup rolled wherever they liked. Kentucky heard her hiss out an expletive. She looked frustrated to the max now.

  Guilt instantly singed his soul. “I am so sorry,” Kentucky said, immediately bending to help gather her things. He became sorrier when her key ring went sliding into a sewer drain and disappeared below before his swift hands could catch it.

  Giada cursed again. “You just ought to be sorry,” she said, turning to glare at him. “Now how am I going to get into my house tonight? And the one emergency credit card I carry with me just went down the drain, too. It’s a good thing Mercedes is at the pet sitter’s tonight. Otherwise I’d really be in a panic.”