Free Suite Embrace by Anita Bunkley

rushed, having flown in from Oslo only five hours earlier.
    â€œDo you like my choice of restaurants, Richard?” she asked her dinner guest, lifting a hand layered with jewels as she glanced around the New York City establishment. Each table was nestled inside a private semicircle booth and was covered with a crisp white lace cloth, sparkling crystal and silver so shiny that it created tiny bursts of light throughout the room. Virina found so many of New York’s better restaurants too boldly lit and open for her tastes, but the atmosphere at Jannike ’s was perfect. It was dim, decorated in old European style and expensive enough to keep the riffraff out.
    â€œA very elegant place,” Richard replied, nodding his approval. “Quiet, and as private as you said it would be. The kind of place where people can actually talk to each other without screaming in their faces or worrying that the people next to them can overhear every word.”
    â€œPrecisely, and we have a lot to discuss, Richard. I’ll be leaving New York in a week, so we don’t have a lot of time to get everything settled,” Virina began, taking a quick sip from her glass. She placed her goblet on the table and a bright red fingernail to the side of her mouth, as if struggling with a thought, when in fact, she was sizing Richard Nobel up while formulating her strategy.
    She knew how to play the negotiating game with the best and knew she was going to get what she wanted from this good-looking journalist who was sitting across from her, drinking the two-hundred-dollar-a-bottle wine she was paying for. He was thin, almost gaunt, but carried himself with an aristocratic air that she found very appealing. His earthy brown skin, black eyes and bright white teeth reminded her of Nat King Cole, the most gorgeous black man ever, in her opinion. A man as good looking as Richard was probably used to women coming on to him, so why not take a chance? If flirting with him didn’t work, she had other ways to get what she wanted.
    â€œAre you married?” Virina impulsively asked, with a flick of her tongue over her glossy red lips. She squinted at Richard, as if trying to read his mind as she waited for his answer.
    â€œFor ten wonderful years,” Richard replied, smiling and giving her an even better view of his flawless teeth. “Three kids, too.”
    â€œA pity,” Virina murmured, sitting back in her chair. Infusing a new man into her life had been in the back of her mind for months, but finding the right candidate was not going to be easy. Bored with the men she socialized with in Europe, Virina was hoping that this trip to America might be just what she needed to cross paths with the perfect replacement for her last husband—a generous, but deathly boring count who had been fifteen years older than she. Though a film producer like Richard Nobel certainly wouldn’t have the financial means to indulge her tastes, it might be a kick to get involved with a man for purely sexual reasons. But not a married man. That was where she drew the line. With a drop of her shoulders, she dismissed that fantasy and moved on to a new approach to the business at hand. “If you had the financing, could you complete the filming in two weeks?”
    Richard Nobel, award-winning documentary filmmaker, paused and blew air through his lips, clearly confused by Virina’s request. “Whoa! Let’s slow things down. As I told you on the phone, Mrs. Dagrun…”
    â€œIt’s Miss Dagrun, but please, call me Virina.”
    â€œFine. As I was saying, Virina, I’ve got the ear of a distributor connected to Black Entertainment Showcase who is interested in my next project. It’s going to be…”
    â€œA series of documentary profiles on unusual African-American sports heroes,” Virina smugly finished. “And as I’ve already told you, I think it’s an absolutely fabulous