by Lee Taylor
The first three men she contacted were open, admitting that as much as they would like to help her, none of them had gotten to first base with the impressive man. Max Shelton was the most helpful. After congratulating her for taking down Mike O’Brian and waving off her thanks, he confessed that while he hadn’t yet met the impressive Mr. Fowler, his golfing buddy Jerry Riley was on a first-name basis with him. In fact, Riley had promised that he would invite Max to join his next foursome that included Fowler. Smiling at Gia across his desk, Max had picked up the telephone and called his friend. Following a short conversation that ended with Max confirming a date and time for their next golf outing, he winked at Gia and scribbled Riley’s telephone number on a piece of paper and handed it to her.
“Jerry is delighted to see you, Gia. His only request is that you proposition him in person. He wants to see if you’ve become as sensational a young woman as you were a cocky little kid. I assured him that you had achieved sensationalism and more. I promised him that he would not be disappointed.”
****
The smallish man with more hair growing out of his nose than on the top of his head peered up at her as if in wonder. “My, Gia, if anything, Max restrained himself when he described your beauty. Glory be, child, if ever the Emerald Isle created a vision worthy of our gorgeous homeland, it’s you. Although given that reprobate father of yours, who may be the best-looking man I’ve ever known, I shouldn’t be surprised.”
Gia was grateful that the astute little man apparently saw her frown and, ascertaining its genesis, quickly changed the subject. After describing Logan Fowler as extremely impressive, he acknowledged that the newcomer who had taken the elite by storm was in high demand. “I’m pleased to introduce you to him, Gia. But please know, Fowler has made it clear to all of us who’ve had the privilege of meeting him that he prefers to make his own connections.”
“I understand, Jerry. I truly do. And I promise I won’t embarrass you. If you can just get me by that formidable barrier he’s barricaded himself behind, I will be forever grateful.”
“First of all, my dear, there is no way that you could embarrass me. In fact, you will be doing me a favor. I haven’t a ‘date’ for the Murphy Art Center’s extravaganza this Friday night. I would be honored if you would accompany me.”
After he’d waved off her protestations and confirmed that he would pick her up at 7:00 p.m. sharp on Friday night, Gia fled to her car. She was glad that she had running clothes in her trunk. Clearly, it was going to take at least ten miles to process what had happened. Struggling to believe that she could have been so lucky and blessing Max Sheldon and that dear little gnome Jerry Riley, she turned to the challenge at hand. Even she knew that the Art Center extravaganza was the event of the year. This year it had been titled the Empress Event because of the precious Mikimoto pearl necklace that was going to be auctioned off to the highest bidder, who would then allow the museum to display the extravagant piece for at least a year. After she began to accept that she was going to the premier event and that she truly was going to meet Logan Fowler, Gia turned to the most critical issue facing her. What the hell was she going to wear?
On Friday evening Kaila, Emma, and even Ben oohed and aahed over her strapless emerald green dress that clung to her curvy body as if it had been sprayed on. The shiny satin creation was the only dress she had that could potentially make it to the upscale event. She’d only worn it once and that was to a shindig at the ritzy club Franklin and Madeline’s annual fundraiser. Aiden’s shock, his father’s wide-eyed gasp, and his mother’s disparaging sniff confirmed that she looked sensational. Now, given her friends’ exultant responses, Gia gave in to her excitement.
Her confidence was soaring when her phone buzzed and she saw Jerry’s number on her caller ID. Not knowing how she made it through the stilted conversation, she hung up and stared helplessly at her friends. “That . . . that was Jerry. He . . . he has a severe case of the flu, and he won’t be able to go to the museum tonight.”
“Oh God, no. I can’t believe it.” Emma’s expression was as stricken as Gia was sure hers was.
She wasn’t surprised when Kaila burst into tears. “It’s not fair, dammit. You look so beautiful, Gia.”
Ben crowded in next to her and, wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulders, agreed. “Kaila and Emma are both right. Damn, girl, you would have brought down the house.”
Gia swallowed past the grapefruit-sized lump in her throat. “That’s just it. Jerry is insisting that I go. In fact, he has sent a car for me that will be here any minute.”
As if to confirm that the decision had been made, her doorbell rang.
Chapter 9
The first thing Gia declared when she entered the ballroom was that she had never seen a more elegant crowd of people. The second was how incredibly inappropriate she looked. It didn’t help that her three young friends had shrieked with excitement, insisting that her dress was the most beautiful one they’d ever seen. It also didn’t matter that Aiden and his parents were shocked by the way the emerald dress underscored her curvy figure. At the time, she’d been glad they were shaken. After all, shocking Aiden’s parents, and Aiden, was one of her life’s guilty pleasures, which she did whenever possible. Unfortunately, her appearance seemed as scandalous to the Empress Event attendees as it had been to the Maxwells.
Seeing a third couple looking at her and exchanging a glance of either surprise or outright disdain, she girded her loins and prepared to face the onslaught. Firing up her never-fail confidence that seemed to be on a momentary hiatus, she was fierce. She’d be damned if she was going to come this close to her goal and shrink in the face of the snobby socialites’ pomposity. She was almost to the center of the room and had seen at least a half-dozen men look back at her over their shoulders with a smile or wink, confirming that at least they thought she was a knockout. She’d almost convinced herself that she could handle this party when she saw him.
As many times as she’d seen him on television and poured over photographs of him at one event or another, she was truly taken aback at how gorgeous he was in real life. She shouldn’t have been surprised. She’d known how he would look. God knows she’d memorized everything about him. From his rakish hairstyle to his riveting dark-brown, almost black eyes. She’d guessed his dimensions, and yes, he was every bit of the six foot, three inches she’d deduced. Catching her breath, she chided herself. Knowing his exercise regimen, she should have expected his lean, muscular frame. She later acknowledged that it wasn’t his extraordinary body or his Hollywood-handsome looks that brought her to a hard stop. They were exactly as she’d hoped. No, when he turned and met her gaze, it was his powerful presence that literally froze her in place.
His momentary frown evolved into a quirked brow. Then a slight smile tugged at his full lips, tipping up the corner of his mouth as he acknowledged her with a nod. Unfortunately, it was his date that made the first move. The blonde woman’s expression hardened as if she’d been forced to deal with a particularly unpleasant issue, like deciding whether she’d have an In-N-Out burger or a Dog n Suds hot dog. Tightening her grip on Logan’s arm, she frowned at Gia, then said in a cultivated voice, “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m sure I would have remembered you if we had.”
Gia admitted she was impressed. The stunningly attired woman, wearing a dress that Gia recognized as a Givenchy original, was as thin as her status apparently decreed. Tallying the likely cost of her personal trainer, Botox and fillers, Saint Laurent ankle-strap sandals and ultra-sophisticated helmet of white-blonde hair, plus what looked to be a genuine Tiffany necklace and matching earrings, Gia estimated that the woman sneering at her had paid in the high five figures to look like she did tonight. Dear God, the creature was even wearing nylon stockings, she muttered to herself in amazement. Damn, who did that? Gia was lucky if she’d shaved her legs, much less had a pedicure in the last month. Glancing at her feet and seeing the chipped polish on one toe, she remembered it had been fiv
e weeks, not three, since she’d had a pedicure.
Close to being overcome by unusual feelings of inadequacy, Gia sucked in a deep breath and shoved at her fears. She reminded herself that the sneering bitch could have the sophisticated guy she was clinging to as if Gia was a homegrown terrorist out to kidnap him. Dammit, she could have told the demeaning snit that she didn’t want him. She just wanted his money. Annoyed that her voice shook, she soldiered on. “No, I don’t believe I’ve met you.” Preparing to introduce herself, she swallowed and said, “I’m Jerry Riley’s guest. But he’s ill tonight.”
Seeing the open distaste on the doyenne’s face as she prepared to lead Fowler away, Gia decided she wouldn’t play small. Acknowledging that she’d sounded as inane as the condescending woman thought she was, she stepped forward. Ignoring the haughty woman, she moved up next to Logan. Lifting her chin, she met his slightly amused gaze and said with a shrug, “Actually, that is unimportant. Jerry only invited me because I wanted to meet you.” Ignoring the blonde’s aghast murmur of “Well, I never . . . ” and seeing Fowler’s frown, Gia sucked in a calming breath and gazed up at him. “To that point, I’d like to schedule a time to meet with you.”
When Fowler raised a surprised eyebrow, his date sniffed as she jerked on his arm and muttered, “God, do they ever leave you alone?” Meeting Gia’s forthright gaze, Fowler allowed the glimmer of a smile to curve his lips. Freeing his arm, he placed his hand on his companion’s lower back. He pointed with his chin to a tall man grimly regarding them from the sidelines and said as he walked away, “Arnold manages my schedule.”
Gia decided that the scowling scheduler bore an uncanny resemblance to Ichabod Crane afflicted with a painful case of hemorrhoids. When she indicated that she wanted to schedule a meeting with Mr. Fowler, he glared at her, then sniffed as if he’d smelled a particularly bad cheese. Looking her up and down, he said dismissively, “Sorry, Mr. Fowler is thoroughly booked. Check back in a year or two.”
****
Taking a couple of days to mend her broken pride, Gia turned to her task in earnest. By God, if it was going to take stalking him to get in front of him, a stalker she would be. Studying her BTLFW calendar, she decided that her best way to “accidently” run into him was at his daily jaunt to the gym. It was a dead certainty that the self-important Arnold didn’t work out. But even if he did follow his master like the overgrown puppy dog that he was, Gia was confident she could catch Fowler’s eye. She grinned. She couldn’t remember a time that her booty shorts and abbreviated halter didn’t make her a sensation in whatever arena she entered.
She called Peter Bannon, one of her running buddies and a trainer at the Cosmopolitan Club that housed the private gym Fowler haunted daily. She assured Peter she knew she was asking a lot, but she absolutely had to get into the gym the next morning. The aghast trainer was adamant, insisting that was impossible. When she pressed him, he whined that he would lose his job if anyone knew he’d admitted a non-member. Peter finally relented when she agreed to run with him on Saturday morning and hang around for a leisurely brunch. In addition, she promised him that even if tortured, she would go to her grave before she would tell anyone how she got into the swanky club.
Gia spotted him the minute she entered the weight room. Even though it was only five-thirty in the morning, the room was crowded with an assortment of sweating men. They ranged from beefy body builders to gray-haired men doing their best to add a little tone to their scrawny bodies and tighten their pendulous guts. Determined to get as close as she could to Fowler without being obvious, Gia went to the mat and began a series of stretching moves guaranteed to catch the eye of the most testosterone-deprived man, ensuring that each time she bent over, her curvy bottom, barely covered by her ass-revealing shorts, was high in the air. While it took her a minute or two past the time she’d given herself to get his attention, his amused voice signaled her success.
“Are you new here?”
Logan had startled when she strolled into the room. It didn’t take the scant moment of silence for him to know that he wasn’t the only man in the room to see her entrance. Turning back to his circuit, he studied her out of the corner of his eye, then squelched the laughter rising in his chest. Recognizing the brazen young woman from the Empress Event, he shook his head in admiration at her blatant impudence. Clearly, she hadn’t been lying when she told him she needed to meet him. Blowing out a sigh, he admitted that she’d been more on his mind than he’d acknowledged the other night.
Forcing himself not to grin, he remembered his brush with the beautiful woman in the astonishingly inappropriate dress. Savannah’s cutting response to the clear gate-crasher had been on-target.
“Can you believe her?”
He’d shrugged. “Well, you have to give her credit for audacity.”
Savannah had been cutting. “Audacity? Really, Logan. In addition to extremely bad manners, she has horrible taste. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a dress like that. Good God, she was practically falling out of it.” She added with a dismissive sniff, “At least she could have bought the proper size at the outlet where she bought it.”
Logan had smiled at his date’s pique. He could have told the aggrieved woman that it wasn’t the fault of the dress that the audacious woman looked as though she was coming out of it. It was just that her extraordinary body refused to be contained. But as drool-worthy as her curvy ass, showgirl legs, and remarkable bosom were, it was the gate-crasher’s chutzpah that captured him. That and her mass of black, curly hair and sparkling green eyes had been haunting him since the event. Now seeing her calmly putting on a suggestive sideshow at his uppity club and knowing that she was determined to meet him, he decided he could have a little fun with the shameless interloper. When she continued to stretch like a preening cat, he sidled up next to her and repeated his question. “Excuse me, miss, I asked if you are new here.”
She glanced up as if seeing him for the first time and shrugged. “No, I’m a regular.”
“I’m surprised.” He made a point of looking her over, stopping at all the strategic points. He was impressed that while she flushed slightly at his aggressive appraisal, her bravado didn’t falter.
He frowned as if studying a puzzle. “Hmm, I’m confident I would have remembered you. Although you do look familiar . . . ”
Gia knew that he recognized her and was taunting her, knowing that she was essentially stalking him. She decided at that moment she wouldn’t embarrass either of them by dissembling. She sucked in an audible breath and met his pointed gaze. “Okay. I confess. I met you at Empress Event the other night . . . or at least I tried to.” Lifting her chin another notch, she said, “I crashed the party for the sole purpose of meeting you. But your uppity bitc . . . companion blew me off.” Raising an impertinent shoulder, she said with a grin, “So, now I’m crashing this party.” When he merely studied her through narrowed eyes, she persisted. “I hope I can convince you to meet with me.”
Impressed with her persistence and more than a little mesmerized with her beautiful face and quite remarkable body shown to perfection in the revealing halter and booty shorts, Logan shrugged. “I presume you mean in my office, not here?”
She swallowed and nodded. “Yes.”
He took his phone out of his pocket and thumbed through his schedule. Meeting her intent gaze, he said, “I have twenty minutes on Tuesday at 9:00 a.m.” Wrapping his towel around his neck, Logan nodded to her, then ambled toward the locker room door and strode through.
Chapter 10
At the sound of the firm knock, Logan rose to his feet and called out, “Come in.”
Walking into the impressive office, Gia wished that she recognized at least one of the artists whose beautiful work decorated the room. It would have been nice if she were knowledgeable enough to comment on Fowler’s upscale accouterments or indicate that she knew something about art that might impress him. Unfortunately, she didn’t. Determined not to be overawed and refusing to undermine hers
elf, she confirmed she would rely on her audaciousness to come out of this meeting victorious. Squaring her shoulders, she rose to her full height and smiled at the narrow-eyed man standing behind his desk.
She’d agonized over what to wear and finally decided on a slim skirt and a reasonably modest, body-skimming sweater. Even though it was a challenge to breathe deeply at the sight of the gorgeous man, she couldn’t squelch her excitement that her bold pursuit had worked. She’d actually succeeded in scaling his formidable protective walls. Her problem was containing the sensations streaking through her body, particularly the ones that were surprisingly close to her core. She knew if she responded to him like the professional woman she was, not an over-eager groupie, she’d be fine. His hooded eyes and firm jaw indicated he wasn’t going to make it easy for her.
Motioning to the chair in front of his desk, Logan sank onto his chair and pinned her with a narrowed gaze. “Given the circumstances, it may seem old-fashioned to rely on the usual considerations, but in that we haven’t been formally introduced, my name is Logan Fowler. You are?”
Knowing that he was taunting her with her bad manners, Gia merely shrugged and shot him an impish grin. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Fowler. My name is Gia Tremaine.”
“Please call me Logan.”
“And you may call me Gia.”
Logan glanced at his watch. “As I indicated, I’m short on time. How can I help you, Gia?”
She pressed her lips together, then raised her chin, a gesture she hoped conveyed her confidence. Not pulling any punches, she said crisply, “I’m a campaign manager and I’m here to ask you to support my candidate.” Seeing his surprise, she rushed forward. “I saw what you did in Washington. You almost singlehandedly elected Dean Pritchard to Congress. I was impressed. It was a masterful campaign.”