Bachelor Unclaimed. Brenda Jackson
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Most people knew the story as to how six guys had become best friends while attending Morehouse and had on graduation day made a pact to stay in touch by becoming godfathers to each other’s children, and that the first-born sons’ names would carry the letters of the alphabet from U to Z. And that was how Uriel Lassiter, Virgil Bougard, Winston Coltrane, Xavier Kane, York Ellis and Zion Blackstone had come into existence.
Winston was close to his godparents and godbrothers and couldn’t imagine them not being a part of his life … although at the moment he was somewhat annoyed with three of them: Uriel, Xavier and York.
A few years ago when he and all five of his godbrothers were going through some sort of issues with women, they had come up with the idea of the Bachelors in Demand Club. They were supposed to be die-hard players—all six of them—who would enjoy life without any serious entanglements. But now the club of six was down to three after Uriel, Xavier and York had fallen in love and married. As far as he was concerned they were all whipped men.
It didn’t matter one iota that he happened to like the women his three godbrothers had married. That was beside the point. The fact remained that they had defected.
“What’s up, U?” Over the years they had shortened their names for each other to just the first letter.
“I haven’t heard from you since the New Year’s Eve party. Just checking on you, W.”
He wasn’t surprised since he and his godbrothers stayed in contact pretty regularly. “I’m fine. How’s Ellie doing?” Uriel’s wife was expecting their first child in May. Xavier’s wife, Farrah, was expecting that month, as well. Winston had to get used to the idea of U and X as fathers, just like he’d gotten used to them as married men.
“Ellie’s fine. She’s working on another novel and believes this one will be a bestseller.”
“They always are.” Ellie was a romance author who wrote under the pseudonym of Flame Elbam. Uriel and Ellie hosted a New Year’s Eve party every year at their home in Cavanaugh Lake in North Carolina. It had been at that party a couple of weeks ago that Ellie had announced her last novel had been on The New Yorks Times Bestseller List for six weeks straight.
“I hear you’re off Barrett Shores for a few days,” Uriel said.
Winston didn’t have to guess where U had gotten that information. More than likely it had come from York since he had been the last one Winston had spoken with. York had called this morning when Winston was throwing items into an overnight bag.
It hadn’t been loneliness that had driven Winston across the Sound to Hilton Head. The need to get laid had been the driving factor. And the trip hadn’t been disappointing.
“Yes, I needed to come into town,” he heard himself saying.
“How are things going with the project?”
Up until a month ago, very few people had known that his research as a marine biologist had reached a major breakthrough in the medical arena. Since word had somehow gotten leaked to the press, he’d been inundated with emails and letters wanting interviews.
“Pain in the ass right now. I prefer keeping my hands in the research side of things versus the business side, you know that.”
“Yes, and you should have taken my advice and hired a public relations expert. It’s only a matter of time before your true identity gets out and Barrett Shores won’t be your private island anymore.”
Winston frowned at the thought. When he had left his six-figure job with Destin Pharmaceuticals a few years back, he had decided to further his research under a pseudonym to keep his private life private. And following Ellie’s advice, he’d even gone so far as to set up a Facebook page with a picture of his grandfather for publicity purposes to appease the serious diggers determined to uncover his true identity. However, Uriel was right. Pretty soon some determined reporter would dig deep enough and find out Winston Coltrane and the renowned Dr. R. J. Chambers were one and the same.
He and Uriel talked for a few minutes more, ending with their plan for all the godbrothers to join York and his wife Darcy in New York next month over Valentine’s Day weekend when the couple would celebrate their first wedding anniversary.
As he walked down the corridor to the elevator, he could still smell Red’s scent and knew it would remain with him for a long time whether he wanted it to or not.
Chapter 5
“So, how are things going?”
Ainsley smiled upon hearing Tessa’s voice. “Fine. I’m stretched out on the beach watching the waves come in. It’s so relaxing. I wish you could have come with me,” she said, pulling up in a sitting position.
“I wish I could have come, too, but some of us have to work for a living.”
Ainsley groaned, thinking of her own employment situation. “And some of us are unemployed.”
“Have you called The New York Times to see if you can get your old job back?” Tessa asked her.
“I put in a call to Bobby a few days ago and he hasn’t returned it. The last time we talked, I was lectured on how the company was reducing their staff so he couldn’t make me any promises. I knew when I resigned that the downsizing was due to the economy. However, at the time, I was so sure I was going to win the election and wouldn’t need that job.”
“And you would have, if Luis Higgins hadn’t lied about you being a stripper instead of a dancer at that New York club during your college days.”
“Doesn’t matter.” She wouldn’t admit it to Tessa but it had mattered. The good people of Claxton, many of whom she’d known all her life, had let her down by believing such nonsense. They had been quick to believe the worst and decided a mayor with a history of pole dancing just wouldn’t cut it, regardless of the fact it was one of her ancestors, the first Ainsley St. James, who had founded the town and had been the town’s first mayor.
“I’m hoping Bobby calls me back before I leave. I want to have some definite plans in place before returning to Claxton. With Luis Higgins as mayor, I won’t stay in town any longer than I have to. Dad is doing better so he doesn’t need me any more. I’ll return just long enough to pack my bags. Mom and Dad understand.”
Ainsley was glad she had sub-leased her New York condo in Harlem. The couple had only wanted a six-month lease, which meant she had a place to stay when she returned. However, with this trip and the personal money she’d thrown into the campaign, she needed an income to pay her bills.
“So, have you run into Mr. Hot-Throb any more?”
She’d told Tessa about meeting Winston at the nightclub a week ago, but she hadn’t told her anything about spending the night with him. That was too much to share with anyone, even a best friend. “No, I haven’t run into him. He’s probably left the island already.”
She couldn’t help wondering if he had. She hadn’t gone back to the Sparrow, but she had gone to a couple restaurants on that side of town. And she’d always felt the need to look over her shoulder, nervous about running into him again.