by SJ McCoy
“I would. Anyway…” Louise checked her watch. “We should get going.”
Grace checked the clock on the wall. “It’s only eight-thirty. I thought we weren’t going until nine.”
Louise didn’t meet her gaze.
“Oh no. You’ve got a date, haven’t you?”
Louise gave her a half shrug. “Not exactly a date, no.”
“Then what?” Grace knew she looked the part but getting dressed up like this and going to some fancy club wasn’t exactly in her wheelhouse. She’d been glad that Louise was so eager to go with her. She didn’t need her, or anything, but …
“I said I’d meet Graham in there. I thought you’d get busy talking to Mr. Davenport and I’d be at a loose end.”
Grace blew out a sigh. “More like you’ll get busy with Graham, I won’t be able to get near Davenport, and I’ll be at a loose end.”
“No. I won’t abandon you. Whenever you’re ready to leave, you come find me, and we’ll share a cab home.”
“What, you, me and Graham?”
“Maybe,” Louise gave her a coy smile.
“Thanks, but I’ll do what I’ve got to do and get out of there. You just get me in.”
“We’ll have no problems there, not with you looking like that.”
“And you looking like that.” Louise was so pretty, she was wearing a deep blue dress that was simple and elegant and sexy as hell. She gave a little twirl. “Thank you, but I’ll be in your shadow tonight.”
Grace laughed. “As if that’d ever happen.”
“I’m serious.”
“Whatever. Can I just practice walking in these shoes a bit more? I don’t want to fall off them and make a fool of myself.”
“Okay but hurry up about it. I’m going to call a cab.”
When the cab pulled up outside Six, Grace stepped out and straightened her dress. She turned to wait for Louise and almost fell, forgetting that she was wearing the stupid heels.
Louise caught her arm. “Careful.”
“I told you I needed more practice.”
“You’ll be fine. Here. Link arms with me and we’ll just sashay straight up to the doormen.”
Grace took in the long line of people waiting. “You mean, walk right by all of them and expect Muscles at the front there to just lift the rope for us? No, thanks. I’d sooner go to the end and wait in line.”
Louise sighed and took her arm, steering her toward the front. “Have a little faith in me, would you? I know I’m not much in the practical world, but you’re in my world now.”
Grace reluctantly teetered along beside her. If she’d been in her own shoes, she might have pulled away, but in these heels, she didn’t dare. She relaxed a little as Muscles, the doorman on the left, caught sight of them and smiled.
“See,” said Louise. “It’s Brandon. He goes to my gym.”
“Of course he does,” said Grace with a chuckle. She should have known. Her seemingly air-headed roommate had friends all over the city—people she’d met at the gym, on the bus, in the grocery store, anywhere and everywhere.
“Lou-lou!” Brandon, formerly known as Muscles, grinned as they reached him. “How’s my favorite girl?”
“Wonderful, thanks. How about you? It’s so nice to see you.” She put her hands on his shoulders and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. Grace was shocked to notice that he was checking her out over Louise’s shoulder. She dropped her gaze and fumbled in her purse.
Louise turned to her. “Grace, this is my friend, Brandon. Brandon, I’d like you to meet my roommate, Grace.”
Grace lifted her gaze and held her hand out to shake with him. He grinned at her and before she knew what he was doing, he’d wrapped her in a bear hug. “I gotta say the pleasure is all mine, Grace.”
She might have to disagree with that as she caught her breath and stepped back, teetering on her heels again. Wow. “Nice to meet you, too.”
Brandon lifted the rope and let them pass. She was aware of the indignant grumbles coming from those at the head of the line. She wanted to apologize; she knew how it felt to be where they were. She wasn’t used to being on this side.
Brandon rested an arm around her shoulders as he walked them through the foyer. Louise raised an eyebrow at her and grinned. Brandon was a big, good-looking guy, and normally Grace wasn’t shy around men like that, but tonight he was a distraction. She was here on important business. As Brandon slid his hand down her arm before leaving them, she did a double take, she’d swear she’d just seen Big Cat from the elevator, weaving his way through the crowd. She needed to get a grip. He’d featured in her fantasies the last couple of nights, but she couldn’t start imagining him when some other guy touched her. That wasn’t healthy—not healthy at all. She turned to look back at Brandon and smiled. If she wanted to ditch the fantasy man and come back to the real world, Brandon wouldn’t be a bad place to start. He grinned at her and nodded. She knew where to find him when she was done here.
“Oh my God, Gracie. Brandon took a real shine to you. Should I give him your number?”
“No, but you can give me his.”
“Oh, of course. I love the way you do that; you’re so empowered.”
Grace laughed. “Empowered?”
“Yes. You never give a guy your number, but you take his. Then you’re the one in control, and you don’t ever sit around by the phone wondering if he’ll call. You call your own shots.”
“It’s just sensible if you ask me.” She looked around. The place was crowded. “So, what’s the plan?”
“I said I’d meet Graham out on the terrace at nine-fifteen.” Louise checked her watch. “We’ve got time to get a drink first.”
“I didn’t mean that. I mean what we came here to do. I can’t believe that we got so carried away with all the hair and makeup and dresses, that I forgot one crucial detail.”
“Oh, no. What?”
“I didn’t make you show me a photo of him. I can’t leave you to your night with Graham until you help me find this Oscar Davenport.”
“Oh, shoot! How about you get us a drink, and I’ll wander around, see if I can spot him.”
“Okay. Meet me back here in five minutes.”
Grace returned to the pillar to meet up with Louise after getting their Cosmos—two very expensive Cosmos. She took a teeny sip of hers. It was heavenly, but she was going to have to make it last all night. Louise came hurrying back to her.
“Did you spot him?” She handed Louise her drink.
“Yes, but I think he was leaving!”
“What?” That hadn’t been part of the plan. The guy was supposed to be here in his club. It was Saturday night. “You think he was, or you saw him leave?”
“He might have just been walking some people out. He was with a couple. I think it was Hope Davenport and her husband. Have you seen him? The cowboy from Montana?”
Grace shook her head impatiently. She didn’t give a rat’s ass about some cowboy. She needed to catch up with Oscar Davenport before he left. “Which way?”
Louise pointed toward the foyer.
“Hello, beautiful.”
Grace groaned. Just at the worst moment, Graham had shown up. Louise wasn’t going to be any use now. “What does he look like?”
“What? Oh. Sorry. Gorgeous! He’s good-looking. Dark-hair, broad shoulders, he’s got a light beard, and he’s wearing a navy suit.”
“Thanks.” Grace set out across the foyer. There was no point trying to get anything more from Louise. She was already in happy, smiley, chatty mode with Graham. She stopped when she neared the doors. There were plenty of people milling around, but none who fit Oscar Davenport’s description. Awesome. She’d give it five minutes, and if she didn’t find him, she’d down her Cosmo and leave. She took another sip. Or maybe she’d stick around a while and have another. They were so good.
She leaned against a pillar and observed the comings and goings. She felt bad
as she saw the couple who’d been at the front of the line come in. She hated that some people got a free pass in life while others had to stand and wait. She was used to having to stand and wait, but she still hated the inequality when she was on the other side for once.
So, this was how the other half lived, huh? She watched them talking and laughing and smiling. Mostly it was people coming in, some standing around, presumably waiting for others to join them. They all looked so wealthy. It wasn’t just that they were dressed up; it was more than that. They had that air about them. And good luck to them. She might hate random inequality, but she didn’t begrudge anyone what they made of their lives. Live and let live.
She looked over at the entrance where there were three sets of double doors. Had Oscar Davenport already left through one of them, or was he about to walk back in? She looked down a hallway that ran off to the left away from the main entrance. There were three people standing there talking. The woman was beautiful; she had long, honey-blonde hair and the figure of an athlete. Grace pushed away from the pillar and stood up straight. There was her first clue. Louise had said she thought she’d seen Hope Davenport. She used to be an athleticwear model—Grace knew that much. And, given that she shared the last name, she must be related to Oscar. The guy standing beside her, his arm slung around her shoulders, didn’t look like he fit in totally. He was dressed the part—and he was hot—but he had a rugged look about him. Maybe he was the cowboy husband. The guy they were talking to had his back to her, but he had dark hair and was wearing a navy suit. She set out toward them. She had to take her chance.
She watched as he hugged the woman and shook hands with the guy, and then they left. She hurried as best she could to the entrance to the hallway, so the guy would have to pass her when he came back in.
He turned around, and she stopped dead, almost falling off the stupid shoes. Big Cat? It couldn’t be the guy from the elevator? It was! She leaned against the wall to catch herself, and he looked up. All the air rushed out of her lungs as he met her gaze. He recognized her, she could see it in his eyes. And she knew it for certain when the arrogant prick winked at her.
He strode toward her, closing the distance between them far too quickly for her to catch her breath. Big Cat was Oscar Davenport? The guy she’d been fantasizing about was the same guy she’d been hating?
He stopped when he reached her and stood way too close, looking down into her eyes, even though the shoes made her three inches taller than usual. “We meet again.”
Damn. Even his voice was sexy—just as deep and rich as she remembered. “We do.” She considered telling him she was just leaving. She could go home, get her head around this turn of events and find him again when she wasn’t so thrown off balance—by the shock or the shoes.
He was looking deep into her eyes; his smile was wicked—there was no other word for it. She stared back, unable to drag her gaze away. No guy had ever affected her like this. Her breath was coming low and shallow; her nipples had stood to attention; she could feel them—she just hoped he couldn’t see them. He reached out his hand, and she automatically responded, offering hers to shake with him. The moment those long, strong fingers wrapped around hers, all the electricity that had hummed in the air between them in the elevator zapped through her body. Every nerve ending tingled. His eyes widened. Did he feel it, too?
“Have a drink with me?”
She nodded. What else could she do? He took hold of her hand and led her through the crowded main room. Part of her wanted to pull away; part of her was grateful for something to hang onto. Most of her was just reeling with shock and something else … desire? Was that what it was?
As they made their way up the stairs, she tried to shake herself out of this trance he’d put her in. She was here to talk to the guy who was going to take the center away—not to get it on with the guy from the elevator.
Chapter Five
Oscar’s heart was pounding as he led her up the stairs. He couldn’t believe his luck. The girl from the elevator was here in his club—and she was even hotter than he remembered. He took a deep breath as they reached the top. He was fully aware that there might be more than luck at play here. People in this city knew who he was. His face had been in enough magazines and celebrity TV segments. She might well have recognized him and come here to find him. He smiled as he turned to her. All the better for him, if she had. The kind of girls who did that—and she wouldn’t be the first—all came looking for one thing, and in her case, he’d gladly give it to her.
She seemed to waver on her feet, and he put his hand on the small of her back to steady her. “Are you all right?”
She nodded. “I’m fine.” She sounded almost angry. He raised an eyebrow and was rewarded with a beautiful, genuine smile. “If you must know, I’m having trouble staying upright in these shoes.”
He glanced down at her feet. They were sexy-as-sin heels—the kind he liked to think of as fuck-me-pumps. He’d be happy to oblige. But the messages she was sending were all wrong. The kind of girl who came to him looking to get laid would never admit they couldn’t stand up in high heels.
“Upright is overrated, if you ask me. I prefer horizontal.” He had to test her out. Was she going to giggle and swoon, and give him the answer that his cock desperately wanted?
Hell, no.
She scowled at him. “I’ll let you get back to that, then. You were the one who asked if I wanted to have a drink with you.”
He grinned. Spirited, huh? He liked that. “And I’d like you to. Please?” He jerked his head toward one of the private rooms and gestured with his hand for her to go ahead of him.
She hesitated for a moment; he could see the struggle in her eyes. He was relieved and a little surprised when she went ahead of him. He’d half expected her to turn around and leave. He raised a hand to one of the waiters and mouthed bourbon to him before following her into the room and closing the door behind him.
She spun around at the sound of the door closing and wobbled as she did. He stepped toward her and caught her arm, crowding her a little more than he needed to. He wanted to tell himself that he was just testing for her reaction again, but it was more than that. His body acted of its own volition, wanting to get as close to her as he could. His cock was straining in his pants, but that was less surprising than the way his arms closed around her, wanting to hold her to him.
She stepped back a little too fast, but luckily for her, the sofa was right behind her, and she plopped down on it with a surprised little uff sound.
He stood over her, some primal part of him sorely aware that her lips were at the perfect height for her to … He turned around at the sound of a buzzer.
She jumped back to her feet and stared around wildly. “What was that?”
“The doorbell.” He went to open it and let in the waiter who set a tray down on the table beside the sofa. A bottle of bourbon, two glasses, and an ice bucket. “Thanks,” Oscar nodded at him, and he left.
The girl looked up at him. “How did you know I drink bourbon?”
“I didn’t. Lucky guess, I suppose.”
She eyed him warily. “Did you know I was coming?”
That intrigued him. “Why would I? And you know that leads to the question of why you’re here.”
She nodded reluctantly. “Do you want to pour me one of those before we get down to that?”
Oscar poured himself a glass and then looked up at her.
“Neat.”
He hid his smile as he fixed her drink. His first impression had been right; she wasn’t his usual type. There was no airy, flirty chatting with this one. She was blunt and to the point. What he wanted to know was what her point was. Why was she here? And why did she suspect that he already knew about it?
He took a seat on the sofa and patted the space beside him.
She pursed her lips, considering it. He could see the moment she reached her decision, and she sat down and took the glass from him. Sh
e knocked it back and set the glass down on the table.
He watched her for a few moments. When he waited long enough, people talked just to fill the silence. She didn’t.
“So. Did you come here to find me?”
She nodded.
He couldn’t stop the corners of his lips from quirking upward.
“Don’t look like that. I didn’t know you were you.”
He gave her a puzzled look. He had no idea what the fuck that meant.
She shrugged but didn’t elaborate.
“Well, I’m glad you came.”
“You are? Why?”
“I felt like we had a missed connection the other day. I couldn’t get you out of my head.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes.” Maybe he could get her to open up more if he did the talking to start with, got her to relax. He rested his hand on her knee. His intent had been to get to her to soften toward him, but it only made him harder. He wanted to slide his hand up her thigh, under her dress, and between her legs. Dammit. He smiled and focused his attention on her face. “Seriously.”
She shook her head. “You’re just full of shit, aren’t you?”
He threw his head back and laughed out loud. “Yeah. I guess I am, in general, but I’m not shitting you about that. I’ve kept thinking about you, hoping I could find you again. I even went down to the seventeenth floor to look for you on my way out.”
“Why? You’ve got a club which is full of beautiful, and no doubt willing, women every night of the week. What’s so special about me?”
“You’re beautiful, you’re different, there’s a strength about you, an I-don’t-give-a-shit air to you that I find irresistible.”
She shook her head and poured herself another bourbon—proving him right, the women he brought in here usually waited for him to refill their glass.
“You found me irresistible, too, didn’t you? That’s why you’re here.”
She let out a short bitter laugh and shook her head. “If I’d known you were you I probably wouldn’t have come.”
What the hell was she talking about? She wasn’t making any sense. “So, why did you come?”