"Well, the lessons have certainly paid off." I inched closer. "I've been wanting to take dance classes again. I trained some when I was younger, but I got into volleyball, and because I was good enough to actually hope for a scholarship, it became the priority."
"How did that work out?" He seemed genuinely interested and impressed.
"I got a full ride to the University of Illinois and played all four years while I earned my business degree," I replied, holding my head high.
"That's very impressive," he said. "I'm worried with your education, you might not find working as my assistant quite challenging enough, but I want you to know it's something Janet and I discussed when we reviewed your résumé and there are certainly opportunities for you to move up at G&G if that's what you want."
Thank God Bridget used real facts of my education when she compiled my new identity.
"I appreciate that, Gregory, but I imagine with everything you do, being your assistant will be plenty challenging."
He nodded as the song ended and we all walked back to the table. I tried not to be disheartened by his lack of response to my attempts at flirting. That event was the last place where he would take such a risk, but it was strange he'd been so enthusiastic introducing me to his parents.
"Ladies, if you'll excuse us, I need to borrow my sons for a few minutes," Carter said after each of the men held out our chairs. I avoided looking at Grey where he stood behind his mother as I picked up a fresh glass of champagne.
"Well, I'm not one to sit back in the shadows while the boys have all the fun," Bethany said as the men walked away. "I say we find some more drinks and mingle. You girls stick with me. I'll show you how to have a good time at one of these swanky events."
I liked Grey's mother almost instantly. We spent the next hour or so getting into all sorts of mischief with her, including placing a ridiculously large bid on a silent auction item I'd had my eye on from when we'd first arrived. It was an eight-person wine tasting tour in Napa Valley, and although it was a serious long shot for me to win with the amount of wealth floating around that room, I decided to give it a try.
"Having fun?" Grey slipped up behind me while I was waiting for his mother to finish writing her bid on a local artist's original oil painting of the Chicago skyline.
"A blast," I replied, leaning back into him without thinking.
I realized my mistake almost immediately. It was all he champagne and the atmosphere. People were dancing, chatting, and donating insane amounts of money. If I wasn't already drunk on champagne, I would have been drunk on the air in that room. The classical band had packed up for the pop singer's performance, which ended fifteen minutes earlier. One of the city's top DJs had taken over and the crowd thinned out as some of the older guests started calling it a night while many of the younger crowd were just getting revved up for the evening. Grace was among the latter out on the dance floor getting down to a mix of the latest chart toppers with a decent crowd of admirers trying to move in on her. I recognized one of them as a Cubs player. I caught a glimpse of Gregory heading our way and moved away from Grey. Gregory looked our way and smiled as he went by. Shit. The evening had been fun, but not nearly as productive as I would have hoped where he was concerned. I'd hoped for some hint of him wanting to get together after the event.
"What was that all about?" Grey sounded a bit irritated.
"What was what about?" I asked, feigning ignorance.
"You stay away from me whenever my brother is around."
"I'm just trying to be professional. He's my boss," I replied, turning toward him. There was a storm brewing behind his eyes. I hated I could read him so well, feel his moods as soon as they shifted.
"Bullshit. When you first met me and you thought I was him, you didn't seem to care a whole lot about being professional around him or that he's married. Very happily, I might add. Then you don't want anyone at work to know about us. Are you worried how it will look to everyone or just him? Do you have a thing for unavailable men? Because I can assure you, sweetheart, my brother is too unavailable, even for a hot little number like you."
I spun around to face him.
"Who the fuck do you think you are?" I spat.
"I'm the guy who's stupid enough to be falling"--he stopped and ran his hand over his face in frustration--"to be interested in a woman who is doing everything in her power to push him away."
His breath smelled of whiskey and his eyes were glazed. Was he about to say falling in love? My heart surged at his near confession. I should have walked away, the small piece of rationality still functioning in my equally alcohol addled mind told me as much, but I ignored it. I'd gotten in over my head with Grey, but I could still get it under control.
"You sound ridiculous. You don't know me, and I wouldn't put so much stock in your brother's character." I turned away from him.
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean? What do you know about my brother or his character?"
"Nothing, I just know men. You're all the same."
"Wow, some old boyfriend really did a number on you, huh?"
"Not even close."
"Then what is your deal? This..." He stepped in front of me and gestured between us. "I've never felt anything like it and I know you feel it, but you insist on fighting it. So, please, if it's not that you have some weird thing for my brother or married guys in general, what the hell is it?"
"My deal is I don't do relationships. I like my life the way it is and I don't need a boyfriend or any of the shit that goes along with one. We fucked once--"
"Twice." His eyes blazed as he stepped closer to me.
"Whatever, twice. It was fun but that was all it was, okay?"
I saw my words cutting him, but I just couldn't stop myself. He'd struck a nerve. I was drunk, and he was screwing everything up for me. I needed to end it, rip off the bandage and be done with it once and for all. The thought sent my heart crashing into my stomach, but I gathered every ounce of willpower I had in me to ignore the sensation. It was for the best, even if it was what I wanted; there could never be anything between Grey and me. We started on a lie--a pile of lies--and that was nothing we could build anything real on.
"Hi, Grey, can I talk you for a minute?" Ashley tapped Grey on the shoulder. Neither of us noticed her approach. I had an uncontrollable urge to punch her in the face for touching him.
He looked at me, his eyes full of hurt and defeat and sighed.
"I do know you, Claudia."
"Apparently not. You two should talk. I need to find my friend." I looked past him, pretending to search for Grace. His eyes stayed focused on me, but I kept looking past him.
"Fine. Ashley, why don't we go somewhere more private." He shook his head at me as he took her arm.
It was as if he kicked me in the gut, but it was what I wanted. Right? I drowned in regret as she smirked at me. Staring at their backs as they moved through the crowd, I wanted to run after him and tell him everything I'd said was a lie, but I just stood there. I told myself it was for the best even though tears stung my eyes.
"Hey, Claud. I need to talk to you," Grace said in my ear, putting an end to my foolish notion of going after Grey.
He snatched a glass of champagne off a passing waitress's tray. She stopped, staring at him wide-eyed while he gulped it down and took another before he and Ashley disappeared from view.
"I think Gregory's about to leave, and Bobby just texted that he needs to talk to us."
❖
"Can we just sit here for a moment?" Grace said to the driver when we got into the car.
"Of course, miss. I'm at your disposal for the night."
The night definitely didn't go as planned, but Grace didn't seem to notice. She'd been too busy having the time of her life.
She closed the privacy partition.
"Driver, we're going to be making two stops on the way back," I said in a voice slightly louder than normal. He didn't respond or turn back, assuring us he couldn't hear us talkin
g, so Grace dialed Bobby's number and placed the phone on speaker.
"Hey, Bobby, what's up?" Grace said curiously.
"Just wanted to fill you in on the mystery woman. She left right after you messaged me, but she just sat outside in a car and then got out a couple of times and paced around texting on her phone before she got a call. She got back in the car for another ten minutes or so, kind of like she was waiting for someone, before she finally left. Our associate made it here in time to follow her, but I haven't heard anything yet about where she ended up. Do you want him to stay on her for the night?"
"Yes, please stay with her. We need to figure out who she is," I replied.
"Okay, we'll take care of it," he said before hanging up.
"I'm going to head back in and see if I can get some more time with Gregory before he leaves." I checked my appearance in my compact mirror. Grey was busy with the pair of legs named Ashley. There was no reason I shouldn't take the opportunity to finally do my job.
"Okay, I'll send the car back here for you after I get dropped off," Grace replied as I opened the door.
"Sounds good. Don't expect me home tonight, I'm guessing I'll be using the other apartment."
"Shit, well good luck, then."
"Since when have I ever needed luck with men?" I gave her a wink before closing the door.
Chapter 11
"Jesus, Claudia," Lydia said when I stumbled into the office. "You look like shit."
"Has anyone made coffee?" I asked without addressing her statement.
It was bad enough we were working on a Sunday. I knew I looked like shit. I'm definitely a woman who can hold her liquor, but when I went back into the gala to find Grey and Ashley gone and Gregory engrossed in a conversation with a couple of local politicians, I started pounding the champagne.
I did finally get to talk to Gregory again when he and Chad carried me out to the car and sent my drunken ass on my way. God, I hoped I didn't say anything stupid, but I couldn't be sure because the details were fuzzy. After the driver helped me upstairs, I passed out on the couch still in my dress and shoes. Waking up at four in the morning to vomit while visions of what Grey was likely doing with Ashley flashed in my mind certainly didn't help with my hangover.
"Here you go." Bridget walked into the conference room with a piping hot cup of coffee for me. God, I loved her.
"The investigator followed the woman from the pictures back to an apartment building," she said as I sat down and took a healthy sip of the sweet, sweet caffeinated nectar.
"She stayed there all night. There were a few people in and out, but no one he recognized. There's a doorman so he couldn't get inside discreetly. I ran the plates on her car," Bridget continued. "It's a rental under the Clarion Corporation. I haven't found much on the company yet, it appears to be a shell owned by several other corporations, which are owned by even more corporations, so it'll take a bit more digging to find out who's really behind it all. I did find an apartment leased by the same company in the building, so it's safe to assume that one's hers. I still haven't been able to dig up a last name, but I'm working on it."
"Is there anything on Gregory's calendar with her name on it?" I asked.
"No, I checked this morning when Grace told me her first name. The lunch he had with her was just blocked out as busy, no location or other attendees designated," Bridget said. "I did find something else, though. I ran a program to cycle through some of the old G&G security footage going back six months using facial recognition and got a hit for her about eight weeks ago. She signed in and got off on the executive floor. I'm trying to dig up the security logs for that day to get a full name."
"Bridget, you could rule the world if you put your mind to it," Grace said, walking through the door. I'd wondered where she was. I'd expected to at least have a message from her asking how things went after she left the gala, but I hadn't heard a peep. Based on her appearance, she's almost as hungover as me. I guessed there was a story behind that because I knew she didn't have enough to drink at the event to be in such a state.
"It was actually pretty simple. All I had to do was tap into the..."
I zoned out when Bridget started rambling about a bunch of technical jargon.
My mind wandered to Grey. I wondered how he was feeling since he'd definitely had his fair share of alcohol. Then I remembered Ashley and hoped he felt even worse than I did.
"So, are you going to tell us how your date went?" Grace asked Bridget, her voice gravelly, pulling me from my thoughts. I'd completely forgotten about her dinner with the handsome Mr. Slade.
"Wait a fucking minute!" Lydia turned in her chair to stare Bridget down. "You had a date and no one told me?"
"It wasn't that big a deal," Bridget replied. The color rushing to her face told a different tale.
"Did you finally do the deed?" Lydia waggled her eyebrows. Grace pinned Lydia with a hard stare, warning her to stop teasing Bridget.
"No! We just had dinner and hung out for a little while before his car took me home. It was--nice." Bridget's voice trailed off as if she was lost in the memory. She sounded happy.
I'd been a shitty friend, yet again. A date was a big deal for her, and I was so preoccupied with my own bullshit I'd forgotten she even had one.
"Fine, keep your fucking secrets, Bridget." Lydia pouted. "So are you two at least going to fill me in about the gala since you left me sitting at home, bored and alone, on a Saturday night?"
Luckily, Grace was more than willing to fill her in with all the details of the night, hangover be damned, which included my losing the only item I'd bid on. I was surprised to hear she'd given a guy her number and made a note to ask her about it later when I was in a better mood. I wondered if he had something to do with her mysterious hangover.
❖
"Girl, I don't know how they expect us to concentrate with all these gorgeous men running around here," Paul, the interior designer Janet and I settled on, said as I set down three cups of coffee for him and his assistants. He was the perfect stereotype of what most people would imagine when thinking of a male interior designer with his skinny jeans and brightly colored shirt, which was more like a blouse. His dark brown hair was cut short, except for the long wisp of white-blonde bangs hanging to one side of his forehead.
"You don't have to tell me." I laughed, playing along. "I started last week and I'm still drooling all over myself half of the day."
"Here, honey"--he tossed me a monogrammed handkerchief--"for the drool. I've got two."
Closing the door behind me, I covered my nose with the gift to lessen the effect of the paint fumes as thick plastic covering the floor crinkled under my feet. Janet wanted to get the redecorating done well before her departure so after settling on a firm, she insisted they begin over the weekend painting the offices on the west end of the floor.
I stepped through a makeshift door at the end of the hallway made from the same plastic that was on the floor and turned to make my way back to Janet's office.
The morning flew by as she filled me in on the intricacies of working for Gregory Michaels. He liked to give everything a personal touch, so a good chunk of my time was spent learning the names of G&G's top vendors and dealers.
"Is it okay if I step out to grab some lunch?" I asked as Janet flipped through some swatches Paul asked her opinion on.
"Of course. Can you drop these off to Paul on your way and tell him to go with this one?" She handed me the stack.
"Sure, do you want me to bring you back something to eat?"
"No thanks, I pack my lunch most days," she replied with a smile.
"Okay, I won't be long," I said before heading back to the office where Paul was working.
"Hey, Paul," I poked my head in the door. "Janet wants to go with this one." I handed him the swatch. "I'm running out for lunch. Can I pick something up for you guys?"
"Thanks, hon, but we brought food. Need to keep working," he said as he adjusted a clock he was mounting on the wall. "Don't
you go and get yourself kidnapped by one of those sexy boys on your way out." He winked. "Or do and just be sure to call me with all the details!"
I laughed and closed the door. He wasn't wrong about the level of hotness in the building. The three Michaels men would have been enough to keep all the women and Paul talking but in my days working there, I'd seen a few others who'd have no problem turning heads in their own right.
I was standing waiting for the elevator.
"Claudia, wait."
A shiver skated over my body at the sound of his voice. I sighed with relief or was it resignation? I didn't know, but I resisted turning around.
"Can we talk? Maybe have lunch?" Grey asked, sounding defeated. "I need to apologize for my behavior at the gala."
"I'd rather not." I was such a liar but it sounded convincing.
"Please, I want to apologize."
"You just did. Apology accepted," I said, crossing my arms over my chest.
"Okay, but I still want to talk to you. To explain." He placed his hand on my shoulder and my resolve melted away.
"Fine."
The chime of the elevator sounded and we stepped on.
Grey stayed behind me close--so close I could feel the warmth of his body through the knit blazer and sheer blouse I wore. My stupid body responded to his nearness as it always did: my skin flushed, my panties dampened, my breath quickened, and my heart pounded. So much for getting him out of my system.
I was grateful he didn't touch me. I would have lost myself in his touch, and I couldn't afford to let that happen again. I had to stay strong, in control and remember why I was really there, whom my loyalties were to.
We remained silent until arriving at the restaurant.
"Two for Michaels," Grey said to the hostess.
He shrugged and flashed me a half smile when I looked at him. He'd known I would agree to lunch. Cocky bastard. I couldn't help but smile back at him, seeing the glimmer of hope in his eyes. Not to mention those delicious lips of his but again, I needed to stay focused. Damn it.
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