The Allure of Dean Harper

by R.S. Grey

  Was that his attempt at a bad joke?

  His cheeks flamed. “It’s just a tough market right now and I think…it’s just…”

  He was rambling and it made no sense. Hunter had helped me find the spaces for my last four restaurants and he’d never once had a problem.

  “I’ll help,” Lily offered gently. “I can search around online when I get home.”

  Hunter shot her a sharp glare. He clearly didn’t want her help, but tough shit. He needed it.

  “That’d be great. Thanks.”

  She smiled and the impact of it knocked me off my equilibrium.

  “Actually, Lily could you stay after the meeting for a second?”

  Her smile faltered. “Oh, uh…sure. Okay.”

  She was as surprised by my question as I was. The plan was to have a group meeting and then send everyone on their way, together. I should’ve realized I’d cave as soon as I saw her. Two weeks apart meant that she was more tempting than ever. The desire that should have faded was too sharp to ignore. I had nothing business related to discuss with her; I just wasn’t ready for her to walk away yet.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Lily

  Zoe was the last to leave Dean’s office. She turned back and shot me a knowing grin just as I shut the door on her. Dean stood behind his desk, peeling off his suit jacket. His corded arm muscles flexed as he tossed it onto the back of his chair.

  When his attention was focused on me, I wet my bottom lip and tried to smile. It felt weak.

  “I asked you to stay so that we could have a moment alone to talk about the situation between us.”

  He was putting our relationship into business terms. Dean’s opening move was always to treat the issue like it was just another danger to his bottom line, but I knew better. I could see the way his breathing had shifted when I’d turned to him. We were alone in his office. I was a few feet away and he was already daydreaming of the ways he could take me across his desk.

  I stepped forward. “I’m completely capable of being professional around you.”

  My words said one thing and my tone hinted at the opposite.

  His mouth twitched and he bent his head to hide the smirk he didn’t want me to see. “I agree. Sleeping with each other doesn’t have to interfere with our business relationship.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Did I hear that you have a blind date this week?” he asked, arching a brow at me.

  “Uh huh. I’m sure you’ll keep yourself busy as well.” I stepped closer and kicked one shoe off and then the other.

  He loosened his tie. “Very busy.”

  “When’s your next meeting?” I asked as I hit the edge of his desk.

  He unbuttoned his belt. “I have to be across town in an hour.”

  I nodded.

  “You?”

  I smirked. “I’m free all afternoon. I just have to do that property search.”

  He nodded, then his brown eyes met mine, and in less than a second, the spark between us was ablaze. I dropped my purse on the floor and crawled over his desk. A ballpoint pen fell off and rolled across the floor as his hands gripped my waist and he pulled me all the way over.

  It’d been two weeks since his hands had been on me. Fourteen days to go insane. A clean cut with Dean was never truly an option. I knew it had to be messy. I wanted Dean to kiss me like he was kissing me at that very moment. I wanted his hands searing through my skin. His tongue slipped into my mouth and his finger slipped into my panties. I gripped his hair and spread my legs on the edge of his desk. He stood between them, yanking my dress up over my thighs like the material offended him.

  “I’ll never get enough,” he threatened, as I unzipped his pants. I shook with adrenaline as he pushed his pants and boxer briefs down and kicked them aside.

  He had me there on the edge of his desk, completely under his thumb.

  “You love this as much as I do,” he said, skimming his hands up my thighs.

  He smiled with such satisfaction as he slipped into me. I dragged my nails down the back of his neck, trying to throw back some of the feeling onto him. I didn’t want it. I hadn’t asked to have my heart split in two.

  He was wrong; I didn’t love it as much as him.

  I loved it more.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Lily

  Lily: I’m headed to my blind date right now…

  Dean: Where are you meeting him? Don’t let him lure you back to his apartment. Jo probably picked a creeper.

  I smiled and shoved to the side of the subway car so that people had room to exit. Every stop we passed, the car emptied out a little more, finally leaving some vacant seats. I nabbed one and turned back to my phone.

  Lily: We’re just going to eat somewhere uptown. I’m meeting him at a park first.

  Dean: Romantic.

  Lily: Are you seeing someone tonight?

  Dean: Not sure yet.

  Lily: Don’t have sex with her.

  Dean: Lily…

  Lily: Fine. Whatever. Sleep with whoever you want. Just don’t spoil your appetite.

  Dean: I’m not the one going on a date right now.

  He had a point, but I was going for a very, very noble reason: I’d been too busy daydreaming about having sex with Dean and then actually having sex with Dean to remember to cancel on Carson. See? I’m sure this sort of thing happens to the Dalai Lama ALL the time.

  Whatever. Jo said I couldn’t stand him up and I couldn’t cancel last minute because that was almost as bad as standing him up. Instead, we agreed that I’d go on one date, and give him a chance. She said I needed to test the water with other guys. Maybe I was into Dean because I was lonely in a new city and there weren’t any other guys in my life. I knew better, but she was annoying and I kind of owed her at least one date with a random guy after subjecting her to two weeks of Love Actually on repeat. (Yes, you actually CAN overdose on Hugh Grant.)

  Dean: Y’know this guy could probably do better. Does he know how stubborn you are?

  Lily: I’m sure he’ll fall in love at first sight and we’ll run away together.

  Dean: Hunter will be so disappointed…

  I typed back “More than you?” but my finger hovered over the send button. I knew I couldn’t actually send it. Dean and I were in a comfortable limbo; I had to tread lightly.

  The subway car screeched to a stop at the next station and my destination was announced over the speakers. I erased the text and pocketed my phone as I stood to exit. The entire walk toward the park, I tried to conjure up excitement for my date with Carson. There was none. Absolutely none. Well, I did smell a pretzel stand, which caused me to salivate, but I couldn’t really attribute that to Carson.

  I was almost to the park, when I saw a sign for a new restaurant opening up across the street. I had a few minutes to spare, so instead of taking a right and crossing over toward the park, I waited for the light to change and jogged across the street to investigate. With any luck, I’d have a new restaurant to review soon. Please be another crêperie, please be another crêperie.

  The restaurant was still in the construction phase, but the bare bones already hinted at how amazing it would be once they were finished.

  I moved around to the front of the building to try to find more details when the name caught my attention. Ivy & Wine was painted in white across the brick, with the words “Coming Soon” beneath it. I squinted and read the name again, trying to draw out why the name seemed so familiar.

  I stepped closer, inspecting the printed poster they’d taped to the front door. The owners of the restaurant had printed out a detailed menu so that pedestrians could start to get a feel for the place.

  They boasted fresh flavors and seasonal dishes, but when I started to actually read the menu, I could feel the color drain my face. It was one hundred percent identical to the menu Antonio Acosta had emailed us only a few days earlier. Every single detail, ingredient, and flavor paralleled ours, and when I scanned to the bottom
where it listed the general manager’s name, I knew who I had to blame.

  Hunter was a little rat.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Dean

  I pushed my bike in through the back door and unclipped my helmet just as my front doorbell rang.

  “I’m coming!” I yelled, annoyed at whoever kept ringing the bell. It was 8:00 PM on a Friday night; chances were I was about to be confronted by a Mormon missionary.

  I propped my bike in the hallway and brushed the sweat from my brow just as Lily yelled through the door.

  “Dean, hurry up! I know you’re home!”

  Lily?

  I unlocked the door and pulled it open to find Lily standing on the other side with her hand poised, ready to keep knocking.

  “Cool it, will you.”

  She groaned and pushed past me, nearly knocking me over. “Why don’t you answer your phone?! I’ve called you ten times in the last twenty minutes!”

  She was sweaty and breathing hard. Her cardigan was tied around her waist and her cotton dress was wrinkled. She bent over and rested her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath.

  “Did you run here?” I asked, furrowing my brows.

  Her bright eyes landed on me with fury. “Of course I ran here! Hunter needs to be fired immediately!”

  I held up my hands. “Slow down. Slow down. What’s going on? Did he do something to you? Why aren’t you on your date?”

  She rolled her eyes and turned to the entryway table. She dumped her cardigan and her purse there and then reached in for her phone.

  “I had to stand him up! I was on my way to my date when I noticed a restaurant under construction.” She unlocked her phone and scrolled through pictures until she landed on one she was satisfied with. “This is the menu that was posted on the side of the building,” she said, shoving the phone into my hand.

  I zoomed in and squinted, trying to make out the small letters.

  “Recognize anything? Oh, I don't know, maybe the entire thing?!”

  I shook my head. “Are you certain? Maybe it just looks similar.”

  She laughed, clearly past the point of reason. “Scroll down and look who’s listed as the general manager. Take a look at how loyal your employee is.” She threw her hands into the air and stomped around the entryway. “I’m going to kill him. I’m going to drown him in the paella dish he STOLE from us!”

  My hand clenched around her phone as I processed the information she’d just dumped on me. Hunter was working with another team, developing another restaurant across town with the menu and the vision we’d worked so hard to create.

  It had been too easy for him to betray me. He had detailed summaries of everything from menu choices to color schemes. He had contact information for every single one of my contractors, vendors, and recruiters.

  My blood started to boil. He thought he could get away with this? He thought he could sit in my office and feed me bullshit about a tough real estate market and expect me not to find out what he was really up to?

  Lily’s hand came into my line of sight and I realized she was trying to pry her phone from my grip before I crushed it.

  “What are you going to do about it?” she asked, her voice much calmer now that I was the one losing my temper.

  “I’ll handle it,” I said with a shake of my head.

  She frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

  I was already moving toward the kitchen, headed for the house phone hanging on the wall by the door. “I’m going to call my lawyer.”

  Her jaw dropped. “That’s it?”

  I was already dialing his number. “Intellectual property is tricky when it comes to restaurants that haven't even opened yet. He hasn't really broken any laws. Pursuing a civil case is the only way we can handle this. Just give me five minutes.”

  She took a seat at the kitchen table and crossed her arms, clearly annoyed with my lack of retribution. “He’s such a slime ball. Y’know he hit on me again in Vegas too. He tried to get me to sneak off to a hotel room with him. God, I wish I’d punched him in the face then.”

  “Lily, calm down. We’ll figure it out.”

  She nibbled on her bottom lip, too worked up to keep still.

  “Dean,” Mitch said, answering just before the call clicked over to voicemail. “This better be damn important. I was about to enjoy a meal at one of your damn restaurants.”

  “We have a situation.”

  He sighed. “Ah, hell. Hold on, let me go outside.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Lily

  I paced back and forth in the living room of my apartment. It was a small space, but I made do, huffing and puffing with annoyance as Jo sat watching me. I could feel her eyes volleying back and forth across the room, trying to keep up with my pace.

  “If Dean says he’s going to handle it, you should trust him,” Jo said.

  I shook my head. “No. His lawyer said that there wasn’t much we could do. Dean didn’t have that menu copyrighted. Trying to sue Hunter would cost Dean a fortune in legal fees and probably wouldn’t result in any sort of solution.”

  “Maybe Dean could confront Hunter himself?”

  I shot her a glare. “What? Like an old-fashioned duel?”

  I was way past that point. I wanted Hunter to pay. I could handle his flirting and general incompetence, but this? It showed that there was more to the sweaty doofus exterior. He’d been playing us all along.

  Jo crossed her arms. “Whatever. If his lawyer says there’s nothing he can do, then you have to move on. You guys can just come up with a better menu or something.”

  I paused and turned to her. “Sweet, naive Jo. This isn’t like fashion, where tastes change overnight.”

  She held up her hands for me to stop. “Oh god.”

  “You’re insane if you think I’m going to let Hunter get away with this.”

  “Lily…” she warned.

  If we couldn’t sue him, I had to figure out how to convince Hunter to pull the plug on Ivy & Wine another way. Dean had already spoken with him, during Hunter’s inevitable termination from employment. He didn’t care that Dean had helped build his career. He didn’t care that Dean had taught him everything he knew.

  During the confrontation, Hunter showed no remorse and he admitted to nothing. He kept calling it a “disagreement”, which was either to show that he was completely oblivious to the ridiculousness of such a statement, or to flaunt the fact that we couldn’t touch him legally.

  Fortunately for Dean, I wasn’t going to let him get away with it.

  I’d searched around online for any details concerning Ivy & Wine. A small NYC blog had posted a short snippet, but there was no mention of the investors or Hunter. Other than that, no other blogs had any details about the restaurant. I checked real estate and development websites to no avail. It wasn’t until I searched the New York State Corporations Database that I got my first break. There was a registered agent listed under Ivy & Wine, LLC, one I wasn’t expecting to find: Hunter’s wife, Colette. The wife he loves and respects oh so much.

  I searched around on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram for any information I could find about Colette. From what little I could gather from digitally stalking her, she was a sweet woman from northern New York whose great-great-great-grandfather created the airplane or something. (Okay, clearly I didn’t read the whole article.) All of her Facebook photos were of her and Hunter vacationing in the Hamptons and Cape Cod. She was from old money and Hunter owed every inch of his new restaurant to her. Meanwhile, he was traipsing around NYC humping anything that moved behind her back.

  I just need proof…

  I sat beside Josephine on the futon and angled my body toward her. “I think I have a plan, but I need your help.”

  She arched a brow. “With what?”

  “How do you feel about going undercover?”

  She dropped her head into her hands and groaned. “Please don’t make me do something I’ll regret.”

/>   …

  Hunter’s social media presence was nothing if not predictable. If there was something cool going on in the city, he had to tweet, blog, and post about how he was somehow involved. He was a “VIP” at every club in the city, he’d been to every bar opening this side of the Mississippi river, and he’d even once “sipped sizzurp with The Biebs #now-imabelieber”. I nearly gouged my eyes out after reading that tweet.

  Fortunately for me, his annoying need to brag about his adventures meant that I knew exactly where he planned to party on Friday night while his wife was out of town. His tweets leading up to the event read like this:

  @BigGameHUNTER12334: Can’t wait to party hard this Friday. #whenthewifeisawaythemicewillplay

  @BigGameHUNTER12334: VIP 2Nite @OakBar #bottleservice #wheninrome

  @BigGameHUNTER12334: We go hard #pregame #sippinondrank

  And then of course, his wife had to chime in…

  @Colletteinthecity: Don’t have too much fun without me! ;)

  @BigGameHUNTER12334: *kissy face*

  Lord help us all.

  Essentially he had the Twitter feed of a fourteen-year-old girl and the body of an overweight middle-aged man. He was basically begging for karma to bite him in the ass.

  I closed Twitter and slid my phone into the small black backpack I’d picked out for the occasion. That, on top of my black beanie, black jeans, and a black long-sleeved shirt made me look less like a criminal and more like every other girl going out in the city on a Friday night. Hipster fashion really took the edge away from my badass vibe.

  “Jo, you ready?” I yelled across the apartment.

  She’d been fighting me on Operation Hunter Becomes the Hunted for the last two days, but there was no way around it. I couldn’t be the bait for Hunter because he knew I hated him. He’d see right through the plan. Jo was my only option.