Beholden (The Beguiling Bachelors Book 2)

by Madison Michael

  “Hmm,” Sloane replied drowsily.

  “I’m sorry. You were sleeping.”

  “No, I am awake. Just too relaxed to open my eyes.”

  “This is heaven, isn’t it?”

  “I confess, I have seriously considered just staying here. I am not sure I could live in Tahoe year round, but I could spend huge amounts of time here. I feel so different when I am here. If I have the chance to choose, of course.”

  “You wouldn’t really move though, right?”

  “No, of course not. I can’t just up and move and besides, I want to be near my mom. And, except in the dead of winter, Chicago is a great city.”

  “And your friends are all there,” Regan offered with a squeeze to Sloane’s limp hand.

  “Speaking of,” Regan continued hesitantly. “I am just asking as a friend, mine you…”

  Sloane opened her eyes now and looked straight at Regan. Something was bothering her or she would have just said what was on her mind. Regan was usually direct.

  “Yes, Regan. Just spit it out.”

  “What about a job, Sloane? We toasted your freedom, but what are you going to do about work? I will help where I can of course, but I have no opening for you. I wish I did.”

  “You are so sweet, Regan, but I am not looking quite yet. I have a little money after this sale; it will buy me a couple months to recover. And I have this ‘thing’ hanging over my head that may resolve everything. If I can shake it, I will make a plan. I could try an executive recruiter then. I know I will have to overcome my name, believe me. I would start my own business if I had the funding. Market some product or service, hire a great staff and run the show. It will be hard being under someone else’s thumb after calling the shots for so long but I will figure it out. I am really not worried about employment yet. I have enormous issues to resolve first.”

  “Okay,” Regan responded. “If you are not worried, I will leave it alone.” Sloane could see that even though Regan said she would leave it alone, the wheels were turning in her brain.

  I will let Regan worry about it for me, at least for now. I have much bigger problems than a job and she knows it. Nevertheless, if I know her, she will have an idea or two before the month is out. Hopefully, so will Jonathan Chen.

  There was a small commotion in the doorway as Linda, Missy and Keeli joined them in the quiet lounge, all dropping onto a sofa near the fireplace looking like they could hardly walk.

  “Good massage?” Regan queried with a laugh.

  “The best,” Keeli responded. “Not that I have a lot to compare it with.”

  . “I could get another massage tomorrow and the day after and the day after that too,” Missy dreamed aloud before confessing,” “I hate the idea of going home, although I cannot wait to see my kids.”

  “Me too. I have to help my mom clean out the house and move. She cannot decide on a new place either, so we will go back to house hunting too,” Sloane offered, not discussing other things waiting for her back home.

  “I have work waiting too, but this week has been fantastic. I got so much done.”

  “I know,” Sloane responded to Keeli. “I saw the latest designs and those earrings you made the other day were incredible. I think the work you do is fabulous. You have so much talent.”

  “Why thank you Sloane, that means a lot to me, coming from someone with such exquisite taste.”

  “You are always so sweet, Keeli.”

  “Not always. You should see me when I am bookkeeping. I do nothing but curse.”

  Sloane laughed at the image of easy-going Keeli cursing, fist raised.

  “That is when you see the real redhead come out in me.”

  “You hate the business side of your job, don’t you Keeli?” Regan pried.

  “Yes, absolutely. It has without a doubt been the worst part of being so successful. It takes up too much of my creative time.”

  “Really?” Regan dragged out the word. “Why don’t you hire a manager? Someone who can run your operation while you create.”

  “Wyatt and I have discussed that too. He wants me to incorporate and hire a President, elect a board. He says now that I am this big, I really need to. But, you know how it is Regan, you need just the right people by your side.”

  “Yes you do, Keeli, yes you do.”

  Linda smiled a small Cheshire smile. “I have nothing pressing to go back to except – of course – my continued meddling in the lives of my friends.” She made them all laugh, but she and Regan exchanged a sudden look. Had the others seen it, they would have known instantly that something was up, but they chatted away in ignorance. Linda excused herself, and Regan jumped up, suddenly energized and followed her into the locker room.

  When the two emerged ten minutes later, Regan sat beside Keeli on one side. Linda sat beside her on the other side and mumbled in her ear, looked across at the other women, then Regan mumbled as well. Missy was watching in confusion, Sloane was laying back, eyes closed.

  The two women continued whispering quietly with Keeli who tried to read their faces to understand. Regan caught Keeli’s eye, and then nodded her head toward Sloane. Keeli looked at Sloane, baffled, then back at Regan, who just stared back, her blue eyes meeting Keeli’s green with an urgent message that Keeli was not receiving.

  Suddenly, Keeli’s whole face lit up with understanding and she looked over at Sloane like she was seeing her for the first time.

  “You know, Regan,” she said as if their earlier conversation had never ended, “I believe you are completely correct. With the right person at the helm, I could easily turn over operations to a new President. She could handle hiring the executive team and work with the board. She could handle everything. But where, oh where, would I find someone able to do all that? And where could I find someone who could do all that and still be someone I could get along with? It would certainly take a rare person.”

  All eyes were on Sloane.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  The women were sitting in the bar sipping Diet Cokes and planning their busy afternoon.

  “You should call the poor man and put him out of his misery,” Keeli told Sloane.

  “Well, Boss, aren’t you being authoritative now,” Sloane teased in return.

  “I agree with Keeli, Sloane, it’s obvious you like the guy, maybe love the guy. Why have both of you in total misery? It’s been over three months. Call the man.”

  “Clarice, you have never even met Randall. How can you already be taking his side against me? And I might forgive some of the meddling, but he tried to have me arrested. He would have watched me go to prison. He believes I am guilty.”

  The three women were sitting over lunch around the corner from Keeli’s large West Loop studio space. With Sloane’s help, Keeli had located and leased the light, open space and Clarice had quickly sublet some of it from Keeli for her own studio. Having her best friend and fellow artist near by had made the chaos of moving well worth it.

  The move in date was set for October first, only days away, so the three friends were taking a rare moment of relaxation before they were swamped. It was seldom indeed for them to actually go out for lunch. Usually all three grabbed whatever they could and gobbled it hunched over drafting boards and desks.

  “I have been dying to try this place,” Clarice said now about “Little Goat.”

  “Obviously, the trick is to come for lunch here because you can’t get near a dinner reservation here or across the street. I have yet to make it to “The Girl and the Goat.”

  “Mmm, who cares,” Sloane added, savoring a bite of her patty melt. ”The food here is so good.”

  “Where the hell do you put all that food, girl?” Clarice asked Sloane. “I have this giant booty and I don’t pack away half of what you devour.”

  “Remember, she runs.”

  “Ah, that explains everything,” Clarice conceded defeat. “No way you could get me to go for a run. I would rather have my fat ass any day.”

  “I ru
n to deal with the anxiety, Clarice. You have no anxiety, well a lot less.”

  “You will have a lot less soon, Sloane, I am sure of it.”

  “If you say so, Pollyanna. If you say so.”

  Sloane had been working for Keeli Larsen Designs over a month. Her official title was President. Keeli was CEO. They were incorporated now and half of the Board was in place, an impressive membership representing the top department stores, classic Fortune 500 companies, even the head of one of Chicago’s most prestigious old banks. Alex Gaines would be a Board member, bringing his investment and consulting expertise. Wyatt had suggested Tyler as well. Instead they had brought in legal expertise via a partner from their outside counsel, just to keep any conflicts at work away from the Howe home life. Regan had agree

  to join the board, though, so there was a strong Howe representation. In truth, having her join had helped attract several of the other big names.

  Sloane was slammed. She helped her mother find a new condo and pack her belongings for the move or for storage. Her mother was transitioning well, already having joined a book club that met in her new Gold Coast neighborhood, as well as a yoga studio.

  Meanwhile, at work, Sloane was busy interviewing candidates to head their HR department. The sooner that slot was filled, the sooner Sloane would be done doing all the interviewing, so it was her top priority. She had secured office and studio space here in the West Loop as well as expanded manufacturing space just a bit further south. Sloane loved working with Keeli and frankly, she was having fun again.

  “Ladies, I am too busy to make time for Randall or any other man right now, even if I wanted to. Which I certainly do not.”

  “I think the lady doth protest too much,” Keeli quoted Macbeth with an impish light in her eyes.

  “Shakespeare? Was that Shakespeare?” Clarice hooted. “So all that reading did pay off. I am suitably impressed, my friend.”

  Keeli blushed but she was thrilled that Clarice recognized all the hard work Keeli had done to extend her education beyond community college. When the two sat beside each other at summer art fairs, before their big successes, Keeli would retreat to a shady corner reading the classics to ‘better her mind’. Secretly, she was very proud of herself, but for Clarice to notice was especially rewarding.

  “I am not protesting, just stating facts,” Sloane defended. “You both know how hectic it is with work and now with the moves, yours and my mom’s. I have my hands full.”

  “Yeah, but if you call him, Sloane, you could have your hands full of something much more interesting,” Clarice taunted. “Way, way more interesting.”

  The women laughed, but Sloane admitted to herself that she missed the feel of Randall’s hard body, missed his sensuous kisses and slightly risky, hard-driving sex. She missed how he made her laugh and how cherished he had made her feel. She had believed they had a future, but she just couldn’t reach out after all this time. She couldn’t swallow her pride and he had finally given up trying to contact her too.

  He tried to have me arrested for god’s sake, after driving up the price of my business so he could get his school chums a bigger fee. He was drunk and pawing another woman. Why should I forgive him? Why should I believe anything he says or does? No, I am better off this way.

  “Ladies, I am done with this conversation. I am not calling him and he has stopped calling me. It’s over. Let Randall Parker III go break some other woman’s heart.”

  “You sure? Cause I heard he started dating someone else, if you want to know the truth,” Keeli admitted. “I assume he would prefer you, but Wyatt did say he was bringing some woman he knew in grad school to that fundraiser for diabetes next weekend. I wouldn’t have said anything normally, but if you really don’t care, I figured you should know before you run into them together.”

  “Oh, yeah, thanks, Keeli. I am glad to know he moved on. And I appreciate the heads up.” Sloane pasted a smile on her face, but it was tight and forced and they all knew it.

  The snake. He is seeing someone else already. No wonder he stopped calling. Hmmm, Sloane. Make this work to your advantage. Show him up.

  Clarice and Keeli were discussing the layout of the studio. Sloane appeared to be listening but her mind was hard at work. She was back to her old ways – taking back the upper hand.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  It took Sloane three phone calls to line up a date for the diabetes event. She was actually excited to be going, and not only because she wanted to one-up Randall. The event was known for its clowns, magicians, silly toys and giveaways. It would be a fun night for a change.

  Her date was an Illinois State Senator, a partner in one of the city’s premier law firms and an extremely good-looking man. He had been seen with Sloane on and off when she was waiting for Wyatt to propose. There had always been an understanding between the two that neither was looking for anything serious. She could count on Edward to be an attentive escort. She was sure he would make Randall superbly jealous. Edward was a catch, and he liked to touch Sloane, at least he had liked to when they dated before. She figured that would drive Randall crazy.

  She had called her mother’s realtor who had mentioned Edward in passing one afternoon. She was great at fishing and quickly found out he wasn’t seeing anyone seriously. Next, a call to a mutual friend where she casually dropped that she had this great new job but no man in her life. Juxtaposing that with two additional questions, “Have you seen Edward lately?” and “Are you attending the diabetes benefit?” got the right wheels turning. A day later, her friend had placed the appropriate phone call to Edward and Sloane had a date.

  Nice to know you haven’t lost your ability to manipulate. Yep, you still got it, Girl.

  Edward was picking her up in a few hours and Sloane was pulling out all the stops. She had her hair professionally blown out, so it shone like silk, a thick fall down to the middle of her back. She had her makeup professionally done to look a little smokier around the eye than usual, a little redder on the lip. She looked exotic, almost Asian with that dark slash of eyebrow and pale skin. She was slathered in fragrant body lotion with the scent wafting around her subtly.

  Thank god, her mother would not attend tonight. She was not dressed in her normal classic, elegant Sloane style. Instead, she wore red, and showed an unusual amount of skin. The Narciso Rodriguez dress had a low bodice that revealed the tops of her small, creamy breasts, discreetly hinting at more. The spaghetti straps crossing her back were all that kept the low front and the much lower back from falling off her body. The back dipped almost to the top of her buttocks. What there was of the dress clung like a second skin, opening just enough for her to walk and dance.

  Sloane almost reconsidered, small butterflies in her belly right before she opened the door. One misplaced little finger could send the dress tumbling around her ankles. It was not improper, not by a long shot. Sloane had seen more revealing dresses when she went to Neiman Marcus. It was just that she would be substantially barer than she had ever been at an event like this, or any event. She was making a statement and second-guessing herself at the same time.

  Get a grip, Sloane. You want him to notice you, right? Yeah, but he won’t be the only one to notice. Stop! Answer the door and stop arguing with yourself.

  Sloane knew she had chosen well when Edward’s eyes almost popped out of his head. “You look amazing,” he gushed. Sloane felt lucky they made it out the door. She could immediately see that she would have to be vigilant with Edward’s wandering hands. She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, backing away before he could claim more.

  It was a typically autumn night and Sloane was lightly wrapped in a coat she would need when they arrived at windy Navy Pier. Edward gave the car to the valet, took her coat and soon they were entering the huge room. It took less than ten seconds for Edward to work the crowd. She shook hands and made small talk easily. This was her old element after all and it felt good to be back.

  People were polite. It was still not publi
c knowledge that she was under investigation and Jonathan assured her it would stay that way. She waved to people she knew, stopped to make introductions or be introduced to potential big-money donors for Edward without anyone ignoring her.

  Oh yes. It felt very good to be back.

  While Edward was caught up in a legislative conversation, Sloane slipped away to greet Allyson Riley, receiving a warm reception. She was fully engaged in their conversation so she was caught off guard when she felt a massive hand rest on the bare skin of her back.

  Her heart rat-at-tatting in her chest, Sloane turned slowly. Initially disappointed to find Wyatt standing with Keeli, she enjoyed seeing the couple. They exchanged air kisses and made small talk before Sloane asked where the usual crowd was, pulling Edward into the conversation simultaneously.

  Stop asking about him. Get yourself together. You do not care about Randall.

  Keeli pointed across the open space and there was Randall, clearly visible, a mere thirty yards away, standing inches taller than everyone around him. He took her breath away. He always did wear a tuxedo better than any man she knew. His shoulders were broad, his waist narrow. He had his arm casually draped around the shoulders of a petite woman with lush brown hair streaked with highlights. She was lifting her pixie face to look into Randall’s and even from this distance, Sloane could tell she was hanging on his every word.

  “Come say hi to everyone,” Keeli suggested now, taking her arm.

  “Sure, go ahead,” Wyatt suggested. “I actually have a few things to talk to Edward about.”

  No, No. No. This would ruin the plan. I cannot have Randall see me without Edward.

  “We’ll wait,” she told the men, slipping her arm through Edward’s and leaning into him slightly. “No rush, we have all night.”

  Sloane found herself tuning out the conversation and surveying the room carefully. Whoever had organized this event had done a stellar job. There was a large crowd, a remarkable number of silent auction items and entertainers working through the crowds keeping things festive and loud.