Behind the Red Doors

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Behind the Red Doors Page 1

by Vicki Lewis Thompson, Stephanie Bond




  If you’re looking for love this Valentine’s Day, take a peek…

  Behind the Red Doors

  Heaven Scent

  An exclusive perfumery featuring only the most seductive, enticing fragrances. A consumer is encouraged to experiment, discovering for herself which scent will drive her lover wild. And it doesn’t take Jamie Ruskin long to find out….

  Diamond Mine

  A collection of the finest pieces of jewelry, all designed to inspire that special man to pop the question. But what happens when that man is planning to pop…to the wrong woman?

  Sheer Delights

  The ultimate indulgence. A lingerie boutique that decorates beautiful models with creations of silk, satin and lace. Too bad one of those models doesn’t know just how much she’s revealing….

  Bestselling author Vicki Lewis Thompson believes writing romance is the most fun you can have while vertical. With more than sixty books in print, she’s having a whale of a good time, and her frequent appearances on the Waldenbooks bestseller list indicate that her readers are partying right along with her. An eight-time finalist for Romance Writers of America’s RITA® Award, she’s also been honored by Romantic Times magazine, including receiving their Career Achievement Award.

  Stephanie Bond has an affinity for Valentine’s Day because that’s when the love of her life proposed on one knee! An incurable romantic who has never been able to make it past the Godiva store without a flyby, Stephanie considers writing sexy comedies the ultimate indulgence. In the summer of 2003, look for Lovestruck, a collection of three of her funniest Harlequin books ever! Stephanie lives with her valentine in Atlanta, Georgia. Readers can contact her at www.stephaniebond.com.

  Leslie Kelly is a stay-at-home mother of three who says she started writing as a creative outlet after one too many games of Chutes & Ladders. Since the publication of her first book in 1999, she’s gained a reputation for writing hot and funny books in the Temptation line. Her first two books were honored with numerous awards, including two Barclay Gold Top 10 Favorite Romances of the Year, the Aspen Gold and the National Reader’s Choice Award. Leslie has recently branched out into the Blaze line and is working on special projects with Harlequin for 2003.

  Vicki Lewis Thompson

  Stephanie Bond

  Leslie Kelly

  Behind the Red Doors

  Contents

  HEAVEN SCENT

  Vicki Lewis Thompson

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  DIAMOND MINE

  Stephanie Bond

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  SHEER DELIGHTS

  Leslie Kelly

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  EPILOGUE

  HEAVEN SCENT

  Vicki Lewis Thompson

  For John Kudjer, a Chicago boy

  and a terrific brother-in-law.

  Hey, John, life is gooood.

  PROLOGUE

  Valentine’s Day, 2001

  IF MONEY COULDN’T BUY happiness, it sure could buy a kick-ass bottle of champagne. And sipping pricey bubbles in Chicago’s famous Pump Room was making Jamie feel extremely happy. To think that she, a janitor’s daughter, could now afford a meal here. Even more astounding, Dev Sherman, the man of her dreams, sat across the linen-draped table from her.

  If Jamie raised her champagne glass to block out her view of Dev’s sister, Faith, sitting on her right, her fantasy of a Valentine’s evening with Dev was complete. But since Faith was Jamie’s best friend, it didn’t seem right to do such a thing. Besides, taking Dev to the Pump Room had been Faith’s idea, a way of thanking him for turning both Faith and Jamie onto some wildly profitable dot.com stocks.

  They’d bought low and sold high on Dev’s advice. Now they were ready to kiss his feet. They called him Broker Man, able to pierce the veil of the future with a single glance of his laser-blue eyes. Jamie was ready to kiss more than his feet, actually. Dev owned the franchise on tall, dark and delicious.

  For years she’d been careful not to let either Dev or, more important, Faith, know about her gargantuan crush. Dev was a Sherman, of the Evansville Shermans. His dates played tennis at old-money clubs and sailed yachts on Lake Michigan. Jamie was a Ruskin, of the Irving Park Ruskins. Her dates played basketball in the park and fished off the pier.

  Jamie Marie Ruskin had nothing in common with Deverell Heathcliff Sherman the Fourth except, potentially, sex. When people were naked they lost their class distinctions, or so she liked to think, and a hot session between the sheets required more moaning than sophisticated conversation.

  But she’d never get there with Dev, because her lack of glamour and polish rendered her nearly invisible to him, she was sure. She was so out of his league that she didn’t try to pretend otherwise. Joking about her lack of sophistication had become her special brand of self-protection.

  Dev put down his champagne glass and leaned his forearms on the table. “So, have you two decided what business you’re going into?”

  “I’m still deciding what fork to use for the dessert I just ordered,” Jamie said. “Who knew dining out could get so complicated?”

  “She’s trying to change the subject,” Faith said. “I’ve come up with a dynamite concept, but Jamie has yet to see how great it is.”

  “I’m not that negative about it,” Jamie said, glancing at her friend. Faith had inherited the Sherman genes for height and dark hair. The hair was okay with Faith, but she complained about her height, especially to Jamie, who was five-three.

  “You’re not particularly positive, either,” Faith said. “Okay, picture this, Dev. Three boutiques under one roof, each with glamorous gift items for women. We rent the bottom two floors of the Sherman Building, right in the Loop so businessmen will use it to shop for their wives and girlfriends.”

  “There’s an art gallery in there,” Dev said.

  “I already checked with them, and they’re not renewing. Think Dad would give us a break? Assuming I can arm-wrestle Jamie into going along with the idea, that is.”

  “Dad’s always a question mark, but maybe.” Dev didn’t look enthusiastic. “What kind of gift items?”

  “Lingerie, jewelry and fragrances. One-stop shopping for that special woman.” Faith blew out a breath. “Dev, your eyes are glazing over.”

  “Sorry. Just not my area, I guess.”

  “Now you see why Faith has to put a hammerlock on me,” Jamie said. “For a gemologist and glamour-puss like her, it makes sense. For a computer nerd and female jock like me, who thinks carats are what you put in stew and facets are what you turn on to get water—”

  “You’re into aromatherapy!” Faith said. “The fragrance boutique would be a natural for you.”

  “Wrong,” Jamie said. “I like fooling with essential oils because it reminds me of chemistry class. I would be useless trying to sell the stuff. I’d probably bore people to death trying to explain the inherent properties of each oil when all
the customer wants is to smell good.”

  “You don’t have to sell,” Faith said. “You can consult. You can—”

  “You know what’s wrong with girlie stores like that?” Dev laid his knife across his plate. “Sorting through racks of women’s underwear is not a manly thing to do. And how the hell do I know what jewelry would look good? And perfume is another land mine. After I’ve smelled three different kinds, my nose turns off. I know women are experts at all of this, but—”

  “I’m not.” Then Jamie noticed how discouraged Faith looked and felt sorry that she’d been such a wet blanket. “But I’m trainable.”

  Faith brightened. “Yes, you definitely are that.”

  “And I’m sure a store like this would be perfect on Michigan Avenue.”

  “Plus your current job sucks,” Faith offered helpfully.

  “Yes, my current job sucks, so peddling undies and good-smelling stuff to urban professional guys would be a step up.”

  “I just don’t know how you’re going to get the guys in there,” Dev said. “Now if you could computerize it so all they had to do was push a button, then you’d have something.”

  “How romantic.” Faith sounded testy. “You remind me of Dad. I—”

  “Wait a minute.” Jamie’s ears started to buzz, the way they did when a most excellent idea was incoming. Or maybe it was the champagne. At any rate, her brain was heating up. At times like this, her brothers swore that even her hair got redder. “Wait a minute!” She looked at Dev and Faith, her heart pounding with either excitement or too much booze, hard to tell which. What the hell, might as well share. “I have an idea.”

  Faith shook her head. “I don’t want to get into mail order.”

  “We wouldn’t do mail order.” Her idea might look stupid in the morning, but after three glasses of champagne, it ranked right up there with the theory of relativity. “We have the shops, like you said, but in a different part we have computer kiosks. Guys feed info in, get gift suggestions out, order them, have them delivered to an order desk. No racks of underwear to face.”

  Dev and Faith stared at her, their mouths open.

  “Wow,” Faith said. “That’s…that’s a ground-breaking idea, Jamie.”

  “It’s more than that,” Dev said. “It’s your ticket. You lay that idea in front of Dad, and I guarantee he’ll cut you a deal on the rent. He’ll want to see that place open just so he can use it to buy gifts for Mom.”

  Jamie peered at them. “Are you just saying that because you’re a little tipsy, too?”

  “Faith will have to speak for herself,” Dev said. “Guys don’t get tipsy. They get wasted—which I’m not.”

  “Me, either.” Faith glanced at Jamie. “Are you?”

  “Maybe. Yeah, I think so.”

  Faith grinned at her and shook her head. “Still trying to keep up with the big dogs. Tiny people can’t drink as much as big people.”

  “If drinking champagne gives you ideas like this,” Dev said. “We should have it piped into your apartment.”

  “That’s for sure.” Faith gazed at Jamie. “You may have just secured our future.”

  Jamie giggled and raised her glass. “I’ll drink to that.”

  As she lifted her glass and touched it to Faith’s and Dev’s, she noticed the gleam in Dev’s eyes as he looked at her. She knew it was interest in her idea, not interest in her, but that gleam made her feel wonderful, anyway. He had more of an effect on her than champagne. She doubted the day would come when he’d look at her like that for personal reasons, but if he ever should, she’d probably ruin the moment by fainting dead away.

  CHAPTER ONE

  January 27, 2003

  JAMIE HURRIED DOWN Michigan Avenue on Monday, her collar turned up against a serious morning wind coming off the lake. No place did wind like Chicago. Her eyes watered and her lashes froze. Inside her fur-lined boots, her toes were numb. So were her gloved fingers and the tip of her nose. Even her nipples were rigid.

  But when she came in sight of the cherry-red double doors set into the imposing granite facade of the Sherman Building, she forgot the cold blast in a rush of pride. The Red Doors was spelled out in brass on a marble plaque to the right of the entrance, as if this were an exclusive club instead of a trio of boutiques.

  Faith had suggested that plaque. Naturally most of the elegant touches were compliments of Faith, but Jamie held on to her nerd territory and took credit for the computer shopping concept. Coming up with that idea, booze-induced or not, had made her feel like an equal partner in the commercial venture. The concept of being a bona fide entrepreneur never failed to blow her away.

  Some snow had fallen during the night, and the drifts beside the doors reminded her of lace decorating a valentine, not that she was the type to inspire frilly valentines. One boyfriend had gone so far as to eat the chocolates from a heart-shaped box before filling it with the new pairs of gym socks that he just knew she’d rather have.

  Valentine’s Day. A queasy feeling dimmed the excitement she usually felt walking through these red doors. Valentine’s Day revenues were critical in the first year of operation. The Red Doors sold merchandise that moved best during a holiday, and a romantic one like this should spike sales. Although it was still January, the normal after-Christmas slump should be long over and the Valentine’s Day upsurge well in progress. It wasn’t.

  The Red Doors had opened in time for the Christmas season, and sales had been decent in November and December. The Valentine season was supposed to be even better. They’d had a minor jump, but not enough for Jamie to feel comfortable. If traffic didn’t pick up soon, she would no longer be a bona fide entrepreneur. She would be a bona fide bag lady.

  She used her key to open the door. Yes, she could go in the back way and straight up to her office, but she loved the front entrance so much she couldn’t bear not to enjoy it every morning. Stepping into the entry and stomping the snow and slush off her boots, she pushed through the brass-trimmed revolving door.

  A tantalizing aroma drifted from the coffee bar she and Faith had dubbed The Red Bean. This was her favorite moment of the day, before the lights came up to full power, before the customers arrived.

  Standing just inside the revolving door and gazing up the red-carpeted winding staircase to the mezzanine, she thought what a fantastic job Faith had done in designing this store so it appealed to both men and women. With dark wood and soft leather, Faith had given the coffee bar and computer kiosks on the main floor a masculine look.

  But the mezzanine, accessed by the staircase or a glass-and-brass elevator, was totally feminine. Each boutique had its own unique character. On the right, Sheer Delights oozed sensuality, the display windows piled with silk pillows and lingerie draped over antique privacy screens. This month the theme obviously was red.

  The middle store, The Diamond Mine, was Faith’s baby, and it glittered and gleamed like an heiress at a fancy-dress ball. The windows were empty now, but in an hour they’d be filled with jewelry that made Jamie gasp in wonder. Each piece was showcased on black velvet under high-intensity lights. Breathtaking.

  Faith’s latest brainstorm involved bringing in a novelty gem to display. She hoped the impressive Valentino diamond would attract more people into the store and put them in the mood to buy fabulous rocks. She’d also come up with a “wish list” concept, where women’s gift preferences would be recorded in a databank that husbands and boyfriends could call up on the computer.

  The “wish list” concept would be implemented in all three boutiques, but Jamie wondered if that would be enough to boost revenues in Heaven Scent. Custom fragrances made with essential oils had been a major gift item during Christmas, but so far the same rush hadn’t taken place for Valentine’s Day. Heaven Scent looked like a garden, with potted flowers blooming throughout the space. Even the boutique name was spelled out in stylized leaves and flowers created in hammered brass.

  Jamie couldn’t understand how people could come into The Re
d Doors and not buy something fragrant to take home. Dev said that people didn’t buy perfume in the winter because their noses were too stuffed up to be able to smell anything.

  And speaking of the man who made her heart go pitter-pat, he sat at his usual table in The Red Bean, his dark hair tousled from the wind. He was drinking coffee with Faith and Dixie Merriweather, the fifty-something woman Jamie and Faith had hired to oversee sales in all three boutiques, although she paid particular attention to Sheer Delights. From her bleached-blond hair to her colorful clothes, she brought a spark to the operation that everyone depended on.

  Dixie had been one of Faith’s contacts, a bartender at a restaurant Faith liked. Faith’s instincts about hiring her had been right on. Jamie had fallen in love with Dixie from the minute the woman had opened her mouth and all those long Southern vowels had spilled out. Even better, she had a wicked sense of humor.

  Dixie had been a widow for many years, and said she wasn’t in the mood to train another man, but Jamie wondered about that line. Jamie told people all the time that she wasn’t interested in a boyfriend right now. She had the perfect excuse—working to make this business a success—but if a certain Dev Sherman crooked his finger, she’d find the time for canoodling. In a heartbeat.

  Dixie, Faith, Jamie and Dev often gathered for an early morning cup of coffee before The Red Doors opened. Then Dev would go upstairs to his office at Sherman Investments. Jamie counted herself lucky to see Dev first thing nearly every workday morning, but she didn’t think it meant much to him. He simply loved the coffee.

 

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