“That? That was nothing,” he flashed her a wide grin. “So, do you want to stay here and find a couch in the lobby, or head somewhere else?”
“Let’s head out.”
“We could head to Chicago Athletic Club or the Rittergut Wine Bar has a nice view of the river and it would be quieter.”
“I vote for quieter,” Sloane responded, appreciating options at both ends of the scale. CAC was the hottest spot in town with gorgeous views of Millennium and Grant Parks and the lakefront from one bar and a complete game room in another. The Rittergut was new and quieter, and more romantic, with its riverside location.
Randall responded, helping her into her coat then returning his arm about her waist to steer her toward the exit. Their long legs easily fell into a matched step as they walked the few blocks to the riverfront locale where they were fortunate to be shown to a table with a nice view. Randall helped Sloane into her chair before seating himself across from her. She turned to enjoy the view and lifted the dark mane of hair off her neck where it caught between her back and the chair. The gesture was practical, but also unconsciously sensuous.
“This is perfect. I am so glad you suggested it.” She flashed Randall her megawatt smile. “It was just what I needed.”
“If I read things right, it seems like you haven’t been having much fun this winter.”
“Longer,” she confided. “Since the first news of the arrest hit the papers. What can I say? My father pleaded guilty. Now everyone believes he was greedy and stupid. He will pay the price, I will pay the price and everyone working for our company will pay the price too. How can we survive this? All my advertising and PR expertise cannot save me now.
“You know, I have an MBA from Kellogg, one of the best business schools in the country, and plenty of top-notch experience,” she continued matter of factly. “I have used every iota of business skill I learned in school or on the job to stay afloat. Still, I know that our few remaining clients will leave as soon as their contracts expire.”
Randall leaned forward in the chair, paying careful attention and taking her delicate hand in his large one, telegraphing his support through the small gesture.
“I have already accepted the resignations of all the key executives and by Easter I fear I will be laying off over 1,000 employees. I know most people believe I have no heart. Wouldn’t they be surprised to hear that I am broken-hearted about closing the business, about layoffs, about selling our gorgeous house in Glencoe?”
“I really am sorry, Sloane. I know that this is awful for you, for your mom and for the business. How can I help?” Randall’s turquoise eyes were kind as he stared into Sloane’s icy blue ones. He reached for her other hand across the table, taking her delicate fingers and wrapping them in his larger ones.
“You could start by ordering me a glass of Cabernet,” she suggested, lightening the mood. Motioning to the server, Randall selected a bottle of expensive Cabernet Sauvignon from the extensive menu. The server approved heartily of the selection, seeing a large tip in his future and disappeared.
“A bottle?” Sloane questioned Randall now. “I thought we were taking it easy.”
“We can handle it,” he reassured her. “Besides, I am trying to get you drunk so I can take advantage of you.” Randall lifted his eyebrows, Groucho Marx style, and leered at Sloane, squeezing her fingers in his. She laughed it off.
“Not likely,” she replied as the waiter returned with the wine and went through the ritual of showing the bottle to Randall and opening it with fanfare. Sloane slid her fingers from his grip.
Actually, it is more than a little tempting. After all, he had that enticing rugged virility barely veiled under his polished veneer. And, damn it, it has been way too long. I just know we could have a good time. He has that incredible body and those hands. I love watching him talk with those big hands and I can just imagine those long fingers touching me all over. Oh and let’s not forget that mouth, Sloane. Those dimples may get most of the attention, but that mouth is luscious. Imagine the things he can do to you with that mouth.
What the hell are you thinking, Sloane! The man is a big lug. He drinks too much. He has no filter on that crude mouth of his. He pushes his way in where he is unwanted. As if all of that wasn’t enough, he is one of Wyatt’s best friends. OMG, I cannot do it with one of Wyatt’s friends. I just know they will compare notes.
Sloane realized that Randall had poured the ruby liquid and was waiting for her to raise her glass. He was watching the play of emotions over her face and she feared she was giving away too much of what she was thinking. She quickly raised her glass to his, schooling her features.
“To old and new friends,” he toasted cryptically, lifting the glass to his mouth. She watched him take a deep drink, swallowing over half the glass as his Adams-apple moved along his throat. “Mm, nice.”
He was stroking her arm now, repeatedly and rubbing her thigh with his under the table. His intentions were more than obvious and Sloane was debating with herself as she lifted the large glass to her mouth.
“To friends.” Sipping from the glass as the fragrant wine assailed her senses, she had to agree that he had selected an excellent Cabernet, the flavor complex and fruity. She took a larger sip and savored the flavors in her mouth. “Randall, this is delicious. How do you know so much about wine?” She turned the bottle so that she could read the label. “Miner.” She had never heard of it, but she would look for their wines in the future.
“I invest in a couple of vineyards. Well, the firm invests in a few and I invest in a few more. So I like to get out to Napa and Sonoma now and then to do some hands-on work. This isn’t one of mine, but I discovered it on a recent trip and I liked it.” He was grinning like a fool and Sloane realized that she was watching a combination of male pride and too much alcohol. “I am so glad you like it,” he said about the wine, while insinuating so much more. Randall never seemed to know when to stop.
“What did you have to drink before you came to the tasting with me?”
“What do you care Ms. High and Mighty?” Randall was instantly defensive, leaning back in his chair, his legs suddenly pulled away from hers.
“I don’t,” Sloane tried to deflect his annoyance. “I was just curious about who you were with at the Palmer House.”
“Just some investment buddies. We had one drink together. Then I saw you in that little dress and those long legs beckoned to me. There is nothing like watching a good looking woman in a short skirt head up an escalator.”
Sloane was being presented with those devastating dimples of Randall’s that she responded to, but simultaneously his increasingly crude behavior was leaving her cold.
“Oh grow up Randall,” she scolded. “You can be such an ass sometimes.”
“Who are you, my mother? Lighten up, Sloane. I was paying you a compliment. I thought we were having a good time. I was thinking maybe we could have a better one.” Again those dimples beckoned to her and a lock of his thick brown hair falling across his forehead made her itch to push it back into place. She felt his thighs rub against hers suggestively.
How can I find him so attractive and so repulsive at the same time? Maybe if he didn’t drink so much…
“Randall, you are not getting lucky with me tonight, no matter what you were hoping. So what do you say we just keep things friendly, finish our wine and go our separate ways?” Now that Sloane had decided how she wanted to handle things with Randall, she was cool and detached again.
“Oh Sloane, why do you always have to be such a cold bitch? Always in control? Always prim and proper? I never understood what Wyatt saw in you but I figured you must be hot as hell in bed. The cold ones always are.”
“That’s it,” Sloane put her glass down decisively and rose from her chair in one fluid motion. “You have offended me in every way possible and I am out of here.”
Grabbing her coat and bag from the chair, she regained her composure slightly. “Thank you for the wine,” she manag
ed to say through gritted teeth, “and take care.”
Sloane walked away without a backward glance, head high, and stride normal. She would not let him see how much he had disappointed her, or angered her.
What did you expect, really? You have known this idiot for years. He can be nice but with a few drinks in him, he becomes an immature jerk and you know it. You have witnessed this behavior a thousand times. The nice Randall always lures you in and then he disappoints.
Sloane walked a few blocks before she even realized she was heading in the direction of home, not back to the office as she had intended. She was replaying the afternoon in her head, the pleasure of the tasting, the compliments, the banter and the delicious sexual undertones. Randall had been funny, clever, intelligent and all man. She had desired him, her body had responded to those little touches, to his smiles. Her blood was only beginning to cool now.
She had finally walked away when she realized that she needed more than a quick romp with a sexy man. She needed a friend, a shoulder to lean on right now, someone she could count on. Maybe Randall could have been that man, but after a few drinks, he was all player. She just couldn’t be sure.
Of course, it doesn’t help that his insults hit the mark. I am a cold bitch. I am controlling. He just doesn't understand that I have had to rely on myself and only myself for months. I have to be in charge right now. There is so very little I can control.
Sloane walked another block, her shoes beginning to pinch her toes. She looked for a taxi, raising her arm like a seasoned city dweller. The cab pulled to the curb sharply and Sloane slid into the heated comfort, gave the address of her condo and sat back for the short ride, allowing her mind to wander.
Who am I kidding? When I was engaged to Wyatt things were no better. I knew that he didn’t love me, but I refused to let go, wanting his wealth and cache. So, what kind of woman am I anyway? Why would anyone be nice to be, want me, and love me?
Sitting a little taller, throwing her shoulders back and lifting her chin as the taxi crawled through the Michigan Avenue traffic, Sloane gave herself a mental shake. She would head back to work and try to find the money to stay open a few more months. She would focus on work because that was where she was in control and at her best. Introspection was not helpful right now. She leaned forward and gave the driver her office address instead.
Screw Randall. Just get it together and move on.
CHAPTER THREE
It was a sunny afternoon with strong breezes coming off the lake almost a month later. At least the worst of winter seemed to be behind them. Sloane had to hold down the bottom of her skirt as she crossed the Michigan Avenue Bridge, heading to meet Regan Howe and her brother Ethan for lunch.
Moving quickly toward “Sixteen”, Sloane was rehearsing what she would say to the two real estate experts. She wanted to find a balance between asking for their help and getting them to offer her assistance before she asked. She could not come off sounding desperate no matter what. Moreover, she needed them to pick up the check at the elegant and expensive restaurant. There was a time she could have paid for an high-end business lunch, but not anymore.
Sloane was relieved that Wyatt was no longer at the helm of Lyons Howe Real Estate. It would have been so awkward doing business with him now that he was married to Keeli. She felt awful that her father had tried to blackmail him into marrying her. It was embarrassing that he didn’t care enough to want the marriage, and then her father’s illegal dealings had almost ruined LHRE too. It was unforgiveable but she hoped someday she and Wyatt would move past it. They had been good friends once upon a time. Luckily, unlike so many others, Wyatt’s sisters had never blamed Sloane and the three had remained close friends.
It was so gratifying for Sloane to see Regan as the new President of LHRE. She loved to see deserving, talented women rise in the corporate world and she was just plain happy for her friend. Waving to Regan and Ethan across the open space, Sloane took a brief second to appreciate the soaring ceiling and million-dollar views. When her eyes rested on Regan, she was able to see the new confidence in her friend.
Running the show always makes a woman more beautiful.
Sloane had taken extra care with her appearance today, and she knew she looked her best. Since the trial, she had lost a few pounds off her already rail-thin frame, but that could not be helped. It just made her look even taller than her already lanky 5’8”. Her dark hair swung behind her to the middle of her back, shining and thick, perfectly even on the ends. Her exquisite, oval face was a touch pale but that just accentuated the dark slash of her eyebrows and the icy blue of her large, expressive eyes.
Since this was an important meeting, Sloane had chosen the one new outfit she had invested in this year. Having checked her coat, she moved across the dining room in the elegant, coral Carolina Herrera sheath dress that hugged her slender curves. She felt confident in it and knew it was particularly flattering when she saw a few heads turn. With her low Prada kitten-heels and a deep shade of coral on her upturned lips she looked like a young Audrey Hepburn - tall, beautiful, confident and successful.
“I am so sorry I am late,” Sloane joined them, kissing the air beside both of Regan’s cheeks in the French style before sitting down, squeezing Ethan’s hand and accepting a menu from the attentive wait staff.
“You are right on time,” Regan reassured her. “And you look fantastic.”
Agreeing to order right away, the three perused the menu of the Michelin-starred restaurant before settling on salmon for the women, beef for Ethan. Exotic starters were offered to tempt them, but all three settled on an enticing, anything but plain, baby lettuce salad. Ethan suggested a bottle of Chardonnay, selected one and they sat back to await their meal while making small talk.
It had been months since Sloane had seen either of the Howe siblings and there was plenty of catching up to do. Avoiding the minefields of Wyatt’s wedding and Sloane’s father, they settled on updates on their Christmas holidays, travel and quickly segued into their respective jobs. This was perfect for Sloane. The sooner they conducted business, the sooner she would be able to relax and enjoy her lunch.
Ethan finally broached the topic of Huyler Industries. “How is your business braving the scandal?” he asked in his forthright way. At 27, Ethan was still learning the business. He had been deep in Wyatt’s shadow until last year when his big brother left to start his own tech company. Now Regan was at the helm and she was mentoring Ethan to be her second in command.
“It’s tough. I would be lying if I didn’t say so.” Sloane started, issuing the understatement of the year while downplaying the severity. She needed to walk a fine line today between being a worthwhile investment and being desperate for assistance. “I have been unable to attract any new clients.”
“And how many of the old ones have jumped ship?”
Sloane cringed at the blunt question, unable to hide her pain. “A few. Quite a few. But we have contracts with many large companies, and most are at least honoring their current contracts.”
“And how long do you think that can sustain you?” Regan asked gently.
“Well, unless I downsize, not long.” The Howe siblings nodded in unison and Sloane plunged forward. “Actually I wanted to talk to you about that. I was thinking our space down here is very desirable, and very expensive. Maybe we could consider smaller, less expensive office space?”
“We can definitely help you with that, Sloane. We would be delighted to help you relocate to new quarters,” Regan made it sound like a lovely choice that Sloane was making, not a last ditch effort to survive. Regan reassured her that her current office space would fetch a very good price.
As they enjoyed the delicious lunch, the three discussed square footage, amenities and locations. Ethan was remarkably knowledgeable about the loop, near north and south loop real estate markets. It was not surprising when Sloane considered that LHRE probably owned and managed more than half of it.
By the time the server present
ed them with the dessert menus, Sloane was feeling much more positive about moving to a smaller, more affordable space. She felt like she had some good options to choose from that would still be in desirable locations. Reputation and saving face were critical to her right now. Her current lease was leaking much needed cash. A quick sublet would put a finger in that dyke.
“Now, one more sensitive issue,” she began after longingly considering dessert but rejecting it. “I need to move my mother out of the Glencoe house. It is too big for her alone and too expensive to manage. The taxes alone are an incredible burden now. Can you suggest a residential real estate agent in the suburbs?”
“Oh Sloane, are you sure?” Regan looked almost ready to cry, empathizing with Sloane at the prospect of losing her family home. “Would your father be okay with this?”
“My mother is alone in that house because of my father,” Sloane responded bitterly. “He chose to take the deal. He does not get a say anymore. She says she wants to get out of the house, and I want to help her. Can you get me a name?” Sloane took a deep breath, knowing she had raised her voice and become more forceful than necessary. It was not Regan’s fault she was in this mess.
“Please, Regan, Ethan, can you help?” Sloane added more quietly.
“Of course, Sloane. Anything you need. Ethan will email you some names.”
They sat a few more minutes talking about upcoming theater and black tie events while Ethan fortunately settled the check.
“Speaking of which,” Regan suddenly asked, “how is the Children’s Hospital Benefit coming along? It is two months away, isn’t it?”
“Three, actually,” Sloane responded. “And we need that extra month. We have the Palmer House all set, the invitations go out soon, but we are still getting in items for the silent auction and they are a critical source of revenue. It is a busy time of year for the benefit circuit.”
Beholden (The Beguiling Bachelors Book 2) Page 4