She had wanted to put a smile back on her parents’ faces and do something that would make them proud, even if it were only a small achievement. So she had taken up golf and found that she was rather exceptional at it. Her parents had been delighted when she won several local junior tournaments and a scholarship to college. Then she met Jim in her sophomore year in college, and six months later, she was pregnant. Choosing to leave college to raise Nicole, Christine became a failure in her father’s eyes.
Christine sighed. She had never finished her degree but she had worked her ass off to be good at something. Her salon business had been very successful, and she was going to make sure that Champagne was even more so.
“Jenny? Do you know anything about your grandmother’s nephew, Derek? Before the women left they placed at least one ad that features his photo, and I would like to find out exactly where those ads are. Could you check your files for me? See what you can come up with?”
“Sure, but I’m pretty sure I know since I placed them. They were at the Palm Beach Illustrated, STB—Simply the Best, which by the way is an award winning publication, reaching residents all the way from Vero Beach to Miami, and Trumps magazine, a regional edition for his upscale locations, like South Beach and Boca Raton. Oh, and Playboy.”
“Playboy? The women sent his picture to Playboy?”
“Uh, well I did.” She flushed to the roots of her red hair. “We sent the ad to each magazine for the one copy only. It’s not an on-going ad. That would have cost too much. But they wanted to help you out for the trip and all. They couldn’t afford to hire a real model, but Grandma came up with this idea of taking a picture of Derek working for Habitats for Humanity, and it came out pretty good, so they found a friend of a friend who airbrushed and polished it, then I placed the ads.”
Christine chewed her bottom lip. A one-time ad in four magazines. The woman had wanted to give her a little boost to help her out, and their intentions had been more than kind. She needn’t tell Derek about Playboy. It was highly unlikely that he read the magazine and would probably never know it was there. Why upset him?
His face flashed to mind, and the anger she had seen simmering in his eyes. He would naturally freak out if he knew he was in a September edition of Playboy, advertising a dating service. But if she didn’t tell him, he might find out from his buddies at work, and then he’d be furious and demand she recall the ads.
But there was nothing to recall. The ads were running this month only. So there.
What had she seen in him that first moment he’d walked through the door? What had struck her at the time?
Sure, she’d mistaken him for an exotic dancer, but that was only because it had been a farewell party. If she had seen him dressed in ordinary clothes, what exactly would have captured her eye? He had a strong face, a square jaw, eyes the color of melted chocolate and a full mouth that had mostly looked angry. He had a hunky, physical build, without those unappealing popped-out veins that some body-builders got from pumping too much iron. He looked like an everyday man. A handsome, interesting, earthy kind of guy. Not really the look she had envisioned for her campaign. She had thought she’d hire someone who was smooth, sophisticated, oozing a worldly charm, like she expected her clients to be.
He wasn’t any of those things, but she knew he was right for her ad. She knew it. She’d always trusted her gut instinct, and it was telling her right now not to let him go.
Derek didn’t want any part of this, and yet she wanted him. On her websites, on her ads, his face instantly recognized as the face of Champagne.
Smiling, Christine realized it might be fun trying to convince him of that.
CHAPTER THREE
Nicole Bradley woke up in a foul mood and it only got worse as the morning progressed. She and Brett had had another huge fight the night before and she was getting sick and tired of their on-again, off-again relationship. To be honest, she wasn’t feeling the love anymore.
He always acted like a jerk around his friends, and drank too much and said nasty things. She knew he didn’t really mean half the stuff he said, but it hurt her feelings and she was fed up with making excuses for him. He was his very own worst enemy. Refused to go out and get a better job, and did nothing but gripe about the one he had.
When she first met him he’d been full of dreams. He’d been an art major studying animation and planned to work for Disney. He was a genius when it came to that sort of thing. But Disney had turned him down, and after a few more futile attempts he’d stopped trying to use his talents, settling for a run of the mill job as an assistant manager at Office Max.
Not that she could talk. She’d let her dreams slip away too. She’d wanted to be an architect and had been studying drawing and design in college. But Brett graduated ahead of her and talked her into moving with him to L.A. so he could be within working distance of Disney when they hired him. Against her parents’ wishes, she left for California at the end of her junior year and never finished her degree. She’d taken a real estate course and sold some pretty expensive homes, but then the market went south and she couldn’t sell a pot to pee in, let alone a house for the pot.
After two disappointing years in California they moved back to West Palm Beach where they both had family and friends. She’d taken a temporary job working at Hooters. That was more than a year ago and she was still there. Talk about a dead end career. Her mother had been right all along. Why hadn’t she had the smarts to listen to her?
Damn Brett. She’d wrecked her life because of him. She could be graduated by now, in some busy, creative office designing innovative green architecture. Instead she was stuck hauling trays of beer to a bunch of losers like herself.
Brett had left hours ago for who knew where and probably intended to stay away until she left for work, hoping to avoid another argument. He needn’t bother. Her heart was simply too tired and bruised to fight anymore.
Slipping on her workout clothes, she decided some exercise would chase away her anger and frustration. An hour on the Elliptical each day let her blow off steam and kept her body in Hooter shape. The sweat was pouring off her in no time, and she mopped her brow with a small towel. She watched the Today show while she went through her grueling routine.
Brett surprised her by walking into the bedroom with a scowl on his face. One look at him and she knew she didn’t want to talk, or to be around him. He was scaring her lately, and the fact she was scared of him, really pissed her off.
He’d made the mistake of hitting her once, a few months after he’d been turned down at Disney, and she’d left him then and stayed with her mom for two whole weeks. He’d cried and begged for her forgiveness, and she’d gone back to him, but things were never the same. Once that bond was broken it was difficult to repair, and she never fully trusted him again.
Lately, things had been escalating between them and it was frightening her. His tongue lashings were more vicious, the arguments more frequent. It was time to get out, before he did something and there was no turning back.
She stopped the machine and marched past him, heading for the bathroom. She turned on the shower and quickly undressed. She didn’t hear him come in.
“Interested in a little make-up sex?” he said, coming up behind her. Before she could stop him he’d scooped his hands under her breasts to cop a feel.
She slapped his hands away. Her entire body tensed. She felt her stomach heave. Sex had always been electrifying between them—perhaps it was what had kept them together for longer than they should have been. Now, his groping repulsed her and…frightened her. It was so over.
“In your dreams, buddy.” Lifting her chin, she stared him down. No way was she gonna let him know she was scared. If he knew that he’d think he had the power, and she wasn’t giving it to him.
This time she was leaving and she wasn’t coming back.
* * *
“Can I make you guys some coffee?” Jenny asked. “I’m dying to try out this new machine.”
Christine nodded. “Yes, please. I still haven’t had my first cup and I can’t function right until I do.”
Dr. Weiss said, “I like tea. Strong and clear.”
“Coming right up,” Jenny said, and rolled her eyes.
She was a pretty girl, petite in stature, maybe five-three, and had a curvy figure, short curly red hair, an upturned nose and a face full of freckles. When she worked for the merry matchmakers, since they didn’t have any real clients, she had come to work in jeans.
Christine had asked her to please dress to impress each morning, and told her she’d build in a clothing allowance. Jenny had come in this morning in a flowered dress that was obviously a Lily Pulitzer. The neckline was a little more daring than Christine would have suggested for office attire, but it was very attractive on her.
As Jenny checked out the new coffee/cappuccino maker, Christine pulled her to-do list out of her new bag. She was glad to see the coffee stain had pretty much disappeared.
In the past couple of months, she’d put together a business plan, figured out marketing expenses, overhead costs, staff requirements, and how many clients she’d need to sign per month to meet her bottom line.
“I made us a list of things I’d like for us to accomplish today,” she told Jenny. “I’m eager to get to it, so we can get the important things out of the way.”
“Sounds good. How do you take your coffee?”
“Cream only.” She took the offered cup. It smelled like fresh roasted Brazilian coffee, strong and rich. “Thanks, Jenny.” The first sip was delicious, and she knew she wouldn’t need to stop for Starbucks any longer.
“I bought a couple of bagels from the shop downstairs.” Jenny opened up the small paper bag. “Want one? I bought an extra just in case.”
“They do look good. I shouldn’t but I will. Thanks.”
“Blueberry or cinnamon raisin?”
“I like both. You choose.” Jenny handed her the blueberry. “You’re spoiling me,” Christine said with a smile.
“You gave me a clothing allowance. Who’s spoiling who?”
“I have a feeling that you’re going to be earning it.” Christine bit into her warm bagel. “This will help to tide me over. I doubt if I’ll have time for lunch.”
“Where’s my tea?” Dr. Weiss said from the door that separated the two rooms. “Oh, bagels.” Her bright blue eyes lit up. “How nice. I’ll have one too.”
Jenny gave her the cup of tea, with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, I only bought two.” She went back to her own bagel and coffee, sitting on the sofa across from Christine’s desk.
“That’s quite all right, dear. I’ll wait for my tea while you go downstairs and get me one.”
“Your tea will be very cold before that happens,” Jenny replied, not getting up. “I’m here to answer phones. They should start ringing soon.”
Dr. Weiss turned around and slammed the door between them. Jenny looked at Christine. “That woman is going to get on my nerves.”
“We are a three woman office. We need to try to get along.” Christine dabbed at her mouth with a napkin.
“Right. I’ll remember that the next time she bosses me around.”
The door burst open and a big man, with the rugged good looks of a young Arnold Schwarzenegger, strode through carrying a large carton box. His muscles were bulging, and so were Jenny’s eyes. She couldn’t get off the sofa fast enough to help the poor man out.
“Whoa, that looks heavy. Here, let me help you put it on my counter.”
“No need. I’ve got it. Have you seen a small, feisty looking woman anywhere about?” His blue eyes twinkled.
“You mean Dr. Weiss?” Christine asked, looking up from her paperwork.
“The one and only.” His lips spread into a wide smile.
“She’s…she’s in the back. I’ll go get her,” Jenny said, suddenly very helpful.
“I’ve got it,” the man said, and took two large steps toward the door. He shifted the box onto his shoulder and opened the door with his free hand. “Grandma? I’ve brought you your things.”
“My darling boy.” Dr. Weiss kissed the blushing man on both cheeks. “Thank you. Will you stay and help me hang my pictures?” She pulled out half a dozen picture frames that listed all her credentials. “You always arrange them so nicely behind my desk.”
“Sure, I will. So, are you looking forward to being back to work?”
“Yes, Joe, I am. Except that young lady is being mean to me.” She pointed her chin in Jenny’s direction.
“Mean to you, Grandma? Not possible.” His gaze traveled over Jenny, and then he winked.
Dr. Weiss’s eyes glittered with mischief, and Jenny was blushing shamelessly. Christine was enjoying the little drama so much she took an extra big slurp from her coffee mug and burned her tongue.
“Damn.”
Everyone looked at her. Dr. Weiss spoke up. “And they won’t stop swearing.”
* * *
When Christine’s mother and her friends landed in Florence, Anne’s bag was missing. The flight had arrived in the early morning, and horrified that she might have to spend the entire day and night wearing her travel clothes, she went out shopping while her friends slept. She knew she only needed one nice outfit, along with a toothbrush, toothpaste, and some facial cream. She had a little make up in her handbag which would suffice until her luggage showed up.
Helen, a retired school teacher, had had several matching T-shirts made up with silly slogans, like the one she was wearing that read, “Seniors Gone Wild.”
It was embarrassing walking around the fashionable shops in such a silly T-shirt, but it was all she had. She trudged in shop after shop, searching for that one simple, iron-free outfit that could be worn for both daytime and casual evenings. She also didn’t want to spend a fortune and, unfortunately, as lovely as everything was, the clothes were expensive. She could easily get twice or three times the number of outfits back home during one of Macy’s or Dillard’s sales.
She pushed back the worry, not wanting to let it spoil her trip. So what if she blew her budget? Who needed one at her age, anyway? She was in Europe for the first time in her life, and possibly the last, and to hell with worrying about money. She was going shopping, dammit, and her bankers could shove it up their behinds.
Anne retraced her steps, intending to go back to the first store with the elegant clothes she’d wanted. She strolled down one street and then another, and quickly discovered every piazza looked the same. A sidewalk café was directly ahead of her, and she decided she needed something in her stomach before she took another step.
She sat at one of the tables and ordered a ham sandwich and lemonade. She ate quickly, as she had left word for her friends to meet her at a certain time, and didn’t want to be late. While she waited for her credit card and receipt she pulled out a city map and tried to figure out where she was and how to get back to the hotel.
“May I help you?” a man asked in Italian-accented English. He’d been sitting at a table next to her, and was standing as if to leave.
She glanced up from her map into dark, penetrating eyes that reminded her of Omar Sharif. He was not a tall man, maybe four or five inches taller than herself, trim, with a small mustache, a pleasant face and a smile. He smelled faintly of cologne and peppermints.
“I may be a little lost. I’m staying at the Hotel Montebello Splendid.” Anne checked the card she’d taken from the front desk. “On via Garibaldi. I know it’s near the river and that it’s not far.” She sipped on her lemonade and fanned her face, feeling warm all of a sudden. “I’m just trying to get my bearings.”
“Your bearings? I don’t know about your bearings, but I certainly can get you back to your hotel. Will you let me escort you?”
“Why, that’s very nice of you, but it won’t be necessary. Just point me in the right direction. I’ll be fine on my own.” The waiter had returned with her credit card, and she put it back into her wallet and turned to
leave.
“No, a woman as attractive as you is not safe by herself.” He smiled, and she noted how white and even his teeth looked against his olive-toned skin. “Come. Do not be afraid of me. I am harmless.”
She hesitated for a second, but it was broad daylight, the streets were busy, and she had an inkling of where she was. If she thought he was leading her somewhere unsafe, she would leave him at once. Anne nodded. “Lead on. But no funny business, you hear?”
He laughed and offered his arm. She didn’t take it, but gave him a smile as compensation. They left Piazza Vittoria Veneto, and she followed him down a cobbled street that seemed familiar. He told her the hotel where she was staying had once been an eighteenth century villa, and that she had chosen well.
She was enjoying his lively conversation and his soft-spoken accent, and wouldn’t have minded the walk being a little longer than it actually was. So when he stopped and pointed across the street to the hotel’s private garden, and then asked her politely if he could buy her a drink, she hesitated. She really did need to buy some clothes before the shops closed, or she’d have to go around wearing a sweat suit and her ridiculous T-shirt for her first evening in Florence.
She recognized the streets now and knew where she had started out earlier that day, and that the store she wanted was right down the street to her left.
She declined the drink but thanked him with a warm smile. “Thank you for bringing me back, and I’m sorry you went out of the way for me.”
“Non c’e’problema. Before you say good-bye, are you sure that I can’t buy you a drink? A glass of wine, perhaps? Or a cappuccino?”
She hesitated for perhaps too long. “I would love to say yes, but I’m afraid that I can’t. My luggage was lost at the airport and I have nothing to wear. I’m embarrassed enough as it is, shopping in this silly T-shirt.”
ESCAPE INTO ROMANCE- 4 Book Bundle Page 49