I gripped the steering wheel so tight my knuckles turned white. So many thoughts ran through my head, but I couldn’t think straight, much less decide what I was going to do next. And matching underwear was the least of my worries. My phone buzzed, and I released my death grip on the steering wheel to check who was calling.
I didn’t recognize the number, but answered anyway. “Hello, this is Maisy.”
“Hey, Maisy, this is Steele, you know, Derek’s friend?”
A smile slowly spread across my face. As if I could forget who Steele was. “Hello, Steele what’s up?”
“Derek and I just finished our morning workout, and we’re wondering if you and Orlean were available for lunch.”
I pushed the mute button on the phone, and said to Orlean, “It’s Steele and Derek. They want to know if we’re available to go to lunch.”
Orlean danced in her seat again, restricted only by the seat belt. “Yes. I mean no. I mean what about Hugo?”
I took the phone off mute and ask Steele, “Where would you like us to meet you?”
We had forty-five minutes to get across town and meet them at Houlihan’s Texas Roadhouse.
“Do I look okay? I mean I wasn’t expecting to go out on a date with a Dallas cowboy when I left the house this morning.” Orlean pulled down the visor and popped open the mirror.
“You look perfect,” I said. Noting that I could care less how I looked, since dating Steele or Derek was out of the question at this moment.
As much as I wanted to call Hugo and plan lunch with him, I couldn’t take this opportunity away from Orlean. Besides, if she found a new man, she wouldn’t end up back with Bruce, even just for a one-night stand. After lunch I’d planned to go to Tower Three and check the progress of my studio, and maybe buy some flowers to liven the place up.
Orlean opened her handbag, pulled out a small makeup kit, and primped all the way to the restaurant. By the time we got there her makeup looked fresh and her smile genuine. I hoped lunch would go well. And I hoped neither guy was actually interested in dating me.
It was a good thing I was comfortable with Derek, and we could carry the conversation, otherwise lunch would have been awkward. The usually chatty Orlean suddenly went mute after saying hello and sitting down to lunch. It was as if she’d gone shy. I laughed to myself, thinking of Orlean as shy.
By the end of the meal, I felt as if Derek and Steele could not get out of there fast enough. And then I mentioned my new studio.
“That was fast,” Derek said. “You mind if we stop by really quick to take a look? You know I’m still trying to talk Steele into perfecting his style.”
At first I started to say no, still not realizing it was my studio. I could invite anyone I wanted to come and visit, at any time, whether it was furnished or not.
“If you have time, that would be great. I’d love your opinion on the design layout.”
Steele and Derek exchanged glances, and Orlean shot daggers at me.
Steele said, “I guess I should see what I’m getting myself into. I’d love to see the studio.” He looked at Orlean. “You’re going with us, aren’t you?”
Orlean nodded, folded her napkin, and placed it on her empty plate. “Sure, sounds like fun.” And I knew from her tone, it was the last thing in the world she wanted to do.
So that was that. Steele picked up the tab for lunch, and it was agreed that they’d follow us to the studio.
Back in the car, Orlean said, “Why did you do that?”
I looked at her before backing out of the parking space. “Do what?”
Orlean pulled down the visor and popped open the mirror, checking her lipstick. “Invite them to the studio. Could you not tell lunch wasn’t going well?”
I’d begun pulling out of the space, then stomped on the brakes. “Sorry, honey, but this lunch wasn’t about you. This lunch was about getting a new client. It’s not my fault you decided to clam up and be a wallflower. If you’d been yourself, instead of some shy little mouse, lunch would’ve gone a lot better. What’s wrong with you? You were excited before we got there.”
Orlean flipped the visor up and rocked back in her seat. “I don’t know. It’s like I can’t decide if I like Derek or Steele, or both, or neither. And I’m so afraid to fuck it up, that I didn’t know what to say.”
“I can tell you this, a guy doesn’t want to date a girl if he’s going to have to hold 90% of the conversation. He doesn’t want you to shut up until you’re his wife. So you’ve got the wife part down perfectly. Now let’s go back to being the old Orlean, the girl who loves her one-night stands, and just fuck with these guys. Have a good time, but don’t scrub my chances of signing another client.”
Orlean reached across the center console and wrapped her arms around my shoulders, squeezing me tight. “You’re right. I’m going to look at it as my chance to jump in the sack with a Dallas Cowboy. I’ll be a groupie.” Then she frowned. “But I’ve never been a groupie, so this might take some acting.”
“Orlean, all that matters is that you have a good time. Don’t look at it as if you’re hooking up with the possible Mr. Right.”
“Hell, I don’t even want a Mr., I just want someone to hang out with, who isn’t you or Gwen.” She held up her hands. “Not that you two aren’t the best in the whole world, but you’re not a guy. I need a guy. You have your guy, Gwen has her guy, I need my own guy. And before you say anything, Bruce was not my guy.”
I backed out of the parking space and headed toward the highway. I laughed. “Oh dear God, if Bruce was your guy, I’d have you committed.”
The conversation fell back to Kelsey’s dress and the designer she’d picked. Orlean and I debated her choice, but Orlean called him anyway. He’d been ecstatic for his design to be chosen, and even cleared his schedule so that he and Orlean could meet with Kelsey the next day.
I pulled up to the valet at Tower Three and explained to the valet as I got out of the car, that the car behind us was with me. Another valet came running to take Derek’s Range Rover.
Orlean once again became silent as the elevator crawled to our floor. In reality, the elevator flew, but the tension made it feel like eons.
As we walked into the reception area, the male receptionist looked up and smiled. “Good afternoon, Miss Maisy,” he said.
Hell, I didn’t even know the guy knew my name. I sure as shit didn’t know his. I smiled and waved. “Good afternoon.”
And when we turned the corner toward my studio, the sight took my breath away.
I tried to act casual and pretend this had all been planned, unlocking the door and sliding it open.
“Lady and gentlemen, this is my new studio.” I spread my arms out in front of me.
And what I spread my arms to was a completely finished, completely furnished studio.
The walls had been painted, the shoe and accessory racks had been built, painted, and assembled with jewelry displays and slanted shoe spaces. The divider I’d asked for had been built and had drapes in a heavy chocolate-colored fabric. They’d been pushed to the side and fastened with ornate holders, showing off the polished wood floor and the thick faux fur area rug in a complementary brown. The seating area held a cinnamon-colored leather sofa and dark caramel leather chairs. Centered between them, a glass coffee table.
My new desk similar to the coffee table: a metal frame and legs and a sheer glass top. My chair a slate gray Herman Miller, just as I’d requested. The flat screen TV had been installed. I noticed Stella had overruled my 42-inch screen in favor of a 50-inch. No way I was going to complain about that.
“I thought you just got this place like yesterday,” Derek said. “Was it already furnished?”
I looked around, still in awe at the work that had been completed in the last twelve hours or so. “I have the world’s greatest landlords. This was an empty space yesterday.”
Orlean walked over to the bar and opened the refrigerator. “Drink anyone?”
As she slid open the
cabinet next to the refrigerator, I saw it had been stocked with top-shelf liquors. The refrigerator held four bottles of wine, several microbrewery beers, and a bottle of champagne.
“I could use a glass of wine,” I said. “Can I get you guys anything?”
“As much as I’d like a beer, I’ll take a tonic water over ice with a lime,” Steele said.
“I’ll take a Diet Coke,” Derek said.
Coming back to her old self, Orlean said, “Take a seat, gentlemen, I’ll have your drinks in just a moment.”
“Or you can take a closer look at everything,” I said, walking over to help Orlean open the bottle wine.
“I’ve got this. Go entertain your clients.”
By the time I finished explaining all of the details and how much work Stella’s staff had completed since yesterday, Orlean had all of our drinks sitting on the coffee table.
“So, what do you think of your stylist’s studio?” Orlean asked as everyone gathered to sit down.
The conversation moved quickly from my studio, to football, when the guys explained why they weren’t drinking alcohol. Orlean leading the way. Somehow, she’d gotten over her shyness and picked up the conversation about football, as if she’d just realized these guys were football players. Orlean loved football ever since she was a kid and wasn’t allowed to play on the boys team.
“I had no idea a woman could know as much about football as you do,” Steele said. “This is amazing.”
Derek said, “You have brothers, don’t you?”
Orlean nodded her head as she sipped from her wine glass. She swallowed before she answered. “Two older brothers, one younger brother. They all played football. My parents barely let me play powder puff. Can’t let the little girl get hurt. And I make money on my fantasy team every year.”
The conversation turned to fantasy football, when I heard a knock at the door.
I looked up to see Hugo standing in the doorway. The smile on his face drained away as Steele and Derek turned to see who was at the door.
I couldn’t help but notice he wore plaid board shorts and a white tee. As if he was slowly crawling back into his cave. At least it wasn’t a graphic tee. And he wore the outrageously expensive navy suede loafers I’d picked out for him.
I stood immediately, almost rushing to the door. “Have you seen the new studio? I can’t believe how much work your people got done overnight.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’d just been told that you were here and wanted to make sure you didn’t need any changes before we signed off on the work.” Hugo avoided looking to the couch.
Steele and Derek stood. “I take it this is your landlord?”
Introductions were made all around, then Hugo looked at me, and said, “I’m so sorry again, I didn’t mean to interrupt your date. I’ll just be heading out. Please let me know before five o’clock if you need any changes, or if you see any work that’s lacking in quality.”
I reached for Hugo’s arm and grabbed him at the elbow. “No, Hugo, you’re not interrupting anything. It’s not a date. Derek is one of my clients. I’m sure you’ve heard me talk about him.” I looked over my shoulder and winked at Steele. “And Steele is a client I’m trying to snag.”
“Maybe it’s time we got going,” Steele said. “You probably have things you’d like to go over with your landlord.”
Derek looked back at Orlean, who still sat in the chair drinking wine. “Do you need a ride somewhere?”
Orlean shot a look at me, then jumped out of her chair. “Yes, to my showroom. I would love that, thank you so much.” To me she said, “Jacob and I won’t need you tomorrow, we can handle Kelsey on our own. Call me, though.”
I looked at Hugo, who didn’t seem convinced that this wasn’t a date and looked as if he couldn’t get out of the room fast enough.
I held his elbow until everyone left, then let go to see what he would do.
“I just ruined your date, didn’t I?” he asked.
I threw my head back, and laughed. “Actually, you interrupted Orlean’s date. She was having the time of her life talking about football with football players. As she put it, real football players.”
“Either way, I’m sorry. I know I keep showing up in your life, and it’s not what you want. I’ll be on my way.”
“Hugo, please, stop. Enough with us avoiding each other. We need to talk,” I said.
“Oh no, that’s never good.” He walked over to the bar and pulled out a rocks glass.
I watched as he filled the glass with ice and poured in two fingers of scotch.
“I guess it depends on your perspective. And it’s better than not talking. There’s something I have to tell you, that I’m embarrassed to admit.” I wished I’d had a glass of wine, or something in my hand, for I was suddenly at a loss as to what to do with them.
Hugo downed the two fingers and refilled his glass. “I’m all ears.”
I looked his body over, my gaze stopping at his crotch, my thoughts saying, Oh honey, you are anything but all ears. And remembering just what he was capable of with a body part that wasn’t his ears.
I steadied myself before responding. I needed to tell him how I felt before I told him about my misconception.
“First, the night we came home and you saw Kelsey at the cottage, you dismissed me like I was nothing. I can’t even begin to tell you how much that hurt.” He started to respond, but I held my hand up to stop him. “I know what Kelsey means to you, and I know your past, because you told me. I also know that you never professed your undying love for me while we were in Vegas, and it was nothing more than a couple of nights of escaping reality. But I want you to know that being dismissed like that was like being stabbed in the back. I drove away that night and cried.”
Hugo put his rocks glass on top of the bar and stepped toward me. I stepped back.
“I’m not finished,” I snapped. “As soon as you saw my reaction to Kelsey’s ring, why didn’t you call me? Make it clear she was engaged to someone else? You never explained why you dismissed me so quickly. You never bothered to find out what was wrong with me, because you were so worried about Kelsey. You made me feel like yesterday’s trash. As if I didn’t already feel bad enough after what Miles did to me, you took a hold of that knife and twisted.”
“Maisy, it’s not what you think, I didn’t mean to dismiss you.” He stepped closer again, but didn’t try to touch me.
I closed the door to my office, realizing everyone in the hallway could hear the conversation and see us. Closing the door was my way of closing out the real world. In my fantasy world, I could talk to Hugo, and we were friends. Hell, we were lovers.
“Well, it seemed that way. And a call or message would’ve cleared things up and given me peace of mind about our relationship. But, then you arrived here with her, and that ring on her finger. And then she asked me to help her find a wedding dress designer. Can you imagine the hurt? Hugo, I thought she was marrying you.”
Hugo stifled a laugh. Now he did reach out to me, and again, I stepped away.
“You never asked.”
“Well, I didn’t’ think I needed to ask if there was a perfectly clear explanation.”
He nodded. “Do you think I would’ve been texting and calling you, asking you to dinner, if I was engaged to Kelsey? What kind of man do you think I am?” He stepped forward again, and I stepped back again. “Stop stepping away from me.”
I flinched, when he snapped those words at me.
He continued, “Seeing Kelsey sitting on the porch at the cottage made me realize how little I really knew her. When I saw her standing there, I realized she’d never love that house, and she never really loved me. We’d grown comfortable together, and that was it. We were best friends, who never even knew each other. Not really. Not as grown adults anyway.”
Hearing him say the words, I felt as if I was dreaming.
“I’m sorry I walked away from you like that, but I felt like I had to tell her rig
ht away.”
The vision of them holding hands snapped into my mind. “Fuck you, Hugo, that’s a lie. I saw you two holding hands as I pulled out of the driveway. You don’t fucking hold hands with someone when you’re going to tell them that you realized all along you weren’t really in love.”
Hugo shook his head. “No, Maisy, fuck you. You have no idea what’s between Kelsey and me. You don’t know why we were holding hands. You don’t know what our conversation was. And if you don’t trust me enough to believe me when I tell you that I don’t love her, then we have nothing left to talk about.”
I’m not sure I heard anything past “fuck you” because the words stabbed like scissors in the gut. But who was I to be upset, when I said fuck you first.
I walked away from Hugo and flopped down on the couch in the seating area. My energy drained, my wherewithal flustered. All I wanted to do was tell this man that I understood he was not engaged to Kelsey, and that I loved him. I couldn’t even do that without screwing it up.
I fully expected Hugo to open my office door and walk out. Instead, he came and sat next to me on the couch. He took my hand, and squeezed.
“Maisy, from the first moment we met, it’s been a rocky start. But here’s the deal, you’ve made me see the world in ways I’ve never seen before, and I don’t want to go back.”
I looked in his eyes and realized the icy color had faded to a sparkling watery blue.
“I’m not a stupid man. I knew Kelsey’s family was having money problems, and I know her well enough to know she thought I was the answer. She’d come back to ask me to take her back. She apologized for walking out on me and told me she was pregnant. But the thing is, I already knew everything before she told me. I even knew she was pregnant before she told me.”
My head snapped up, and my eyes widened.
“Don’t ask me how. It was just a gut feeling,” he said.
I squeezed his hand back and admitted, “I know all of this already. Your sister told me about the financial problems, and Kelsey told me she was pregnant.”
A smile crooked in the corner of Hugo’s mouth. “I dodged a bullet with that one. It only took seeing her again to realize she’s manipulative. And to realize that I love someone else.”
Mine (Dressing a Billionaire Book 3): A Romantic Comedy Page 10