Behind the Red Doors

by Vicki Lewis Thompson, Stephanie Bond

  “We’re not. I swear.” Faith was, but Jamie hadn’t ever said she’d go along with it. And Dev didn’t have the slightest idea that she was the intended match. He’d never think of that.

  “You’d better not be.” He continued to gaze at her. “You know what? Maybe you should e-mail me that questionnaire. Here’s my home e-mail address.” He moved back to the desk and picked up a pen she had lying there.

  “Fine.” She’d become so sensitized that his quick scribbling on the notepad beside the computer became erotically charged. Watching him write, she imagined his hands on her and his fingers caressing her skin. She swallowed.

  “I should probably take off.”

  He was leaving, and she had nothing to keep him here. Maybe he’d seen right through her. He could have thought back to the Hot Commodity thing, added that to the highly sexual description and come up with the conclusion that she had a mega crush on him. Maybe he was beating a quick retreat now before she could throw herself at him.

  Desperate to erase that impression, she faked an elaborate yawn. “That’s a wonderful idea. I’m totally exhausted, and I was hoping this wouldn’t take too long. I’m ready for bed.”

  He looked even more agitated. “Right. I’m wiped out, myself. Long day.” He headed for the moose head coat tree.

  Oh, no. Maybe he’d thought she meant ready for bed as in ready to have sex. “Listen, Dev, I would hate for you to get the wrong idea from all this and think I’m attracted to you.”

  “No, I didn’t get that. And, for the record, I’m not particularly attracted to you, either.” He grabbed his coat and quickly unlocked her door. “That kiss was just…”

  “A fluke.”

  “Exactly. A fluke.”

  “You know, it’s a really good thing we’re not attracted to each other,” she said. “That would be awkward.”

  “You said it.” He opened the door. “See you later.” Then he was gone.

  Dazed, Jamie stood motionless for several seconds. “That certainly went well,” she muttered at last. Then she walked over and sat at the computer.

  She might as well e-mail him the questionnaire before she forgot. As if she would forget. Ha. She’d never forget a single thing about tonight, not even the embarrassing parts—especially not the embarrassing parts.

  Logging onto the Internet, she glanced at Dev’s e-mail address. Risk Taker. Well, there it was, spelled out. He was one and she wasn’t. There had been a moment, when he’d cupped her head in both hands, when she could have gone for it. He might not be particularly attracted to her, but there had been a window of opportunity when he might have started to become attracted.

  But she’d lost her nerve. Now the window of opportunity was closed, latched, and the shade pulled down.

  SOME RISK TAKER HE WAS. Dev cursed himself for a coward as he flagged down a cab and headed back to his apartment. He was damned lucky he’d even found a cab, but he’d been so eager to make his exit that he hadn’t wanted to call one from her place.

  He’d been afraid that if he stayed any longer, he’d try to kiss her again, and she might reject him. He hadn’t been willing to test it.

  But he should have tested it. Jamie might have said she wasn’t attracted to him, but she’d kissed him as if she might be, given some encouragement. And she’d typed in that “hot commodity” and “highly sexual” stuff, even if she and Faith had been giggling at the time. There was a chance he could have built on that.

  But no, he’d been too worried about failure to give it a decent try. If he conducted himself that way in the market, he’d be toast. If he conducted himself that way with other women, he’d still be a virgin.

  Jamie was just a woman. He sighed and leaned back against the cracked upholstery in the cab. Yeah, sure, and Sammy Sosa was just a baseball player.

  This was all Faith’s fault. For years she’d been raving about Jamie, who was so smart, so talented, so amazing. No wonder he couldn’t follow his normal playbook with Jamie. She was several moves ahead of him.

  Well, he was back in control of the situation now, or as much in control as possible, considering the schemes that could be going on behind his back. Jamie might not think she was part of Operation Marry Off Dev, but she was loyal to Faith, and Faith could be very convincing. He should know, because he’d backed more than one of Faith’s schemes.

  This collection of boutiques was an example, because he’d helped convince his dad to give Faith and Jamie the space for a ridiculously low rent. But he thought this particular concept had promise, so he wasn’t sorry. Besides, his dad thought a lot of Jamie and liked the idea of giving her a boost. The whole family liked Jamie.

  Then, as the cab turned onto Lakeshore Drive, he had an inspiration.

  If he became involved with Jamie, he could stymie the matchmakers on two fronts. Jamie wouldn’t be part of a matchmaking scheme if he was dating her, and his mother and aunt would back off for a while, because they liked Jamie. The plan had merit. There was the small problem that Jamie didn’t want anything to do with him, but maybe he could work around that.

  He thought about it some more as he greeted the doorman, walked through the lobby and used his key to activate the elevator. The idea of getting involved with Jamie made his groin tingle in anticipation. He brushed his hand over his mouth, remembering the feel of her lips, and his pulse rate jumped several points.

  The elevator arrived and whisked him up to his twenty-fifth-floor apartment. A short walk down a carpeted hallway brought him to his door. Unlocking it and going inside, he left the lights off. As big a fuss as he’d made about the Bulls game, he wasn’t interested in turning it on. Instead, he moved over to the far side of the apartment, where a wall of windows looked out onto the inky expanse of Lake Michigan.

  To his left, the Chicago skyline glittered, and the sight never failed to stir him. Wealth had always been a part of his life, and most of the time he didn’t consider it the biggest part. But it could buy him this view, and for that he was grateful.

  As always when he stood here, his gaze followed the shoreline north. Somewhere embedded in that brilliant necklace were the lights of his parents’ lakefront home in Evansville. They’d told him once that during happy hour they always lifted a glass in his direction, and that had made him smile. He’d been lucky, being born to those two.

  But as had most of his friends’ parents, they were starting to moan about not having grandkids. It was normal, but Dev thought there was more to it than wanting to cuddle babies and root for Little Leaguers again. His mom and dad needed to know that there would be heirs to the Sherman empire for at least the next two generations. He didn’t blame them but he didn’t like being rushed, either.

  Dating someone like Jamie would stall the marriage mobile for a little while, anyway. But if he had a prayer of succeeding, he’d have to stop being such a chicken shit and put a move on the woman that she wouldn’t be able to resist. He’d have to forget about her brains and appeal to a more primitive part of her make-up. It was all about focus.

  If he’d never kissed her, he’d doubt his ability to manage a seduction. But until they’d dropped the cup, she’d been into it. Without the cup incident, he might have been able to bypass that IQ of hers while he honed in on her libido.

  All he needed to do was create a second chance. And the very cup that had spoiled the moment the first time around would be his entrée back into her apartment. He’d promised to replace it, and he always kept his promises.

  DESPITE SPRITZING some lavender on her pillow, Jamie didn’t sleep well. She was up early and checking her e-mail to see if Dev had sent anything back. Come to find out he’d sent his own questionnaire and two of his friends had sent theirs, as well.

  Dev must have been a busy boy after leaving her, which only confirmed what she’d suspected—he hadn’t been tired, only desperate to get away from her. At least she had a start on information she could use to modify The Red Doors program.

  She’d hand the info
over to Jason, a developer they’d kept on staff to maintain the program. With some late nights, which Jason seemed to love putting in, the revised program could be up and running in a couple of days. She’d talk to Faith today about getting some new ads in place.

  Because she was weak, she took the time to glance over the rest of Dev’s answers to her questions. She discovered that she and Dev were about as opposite as two people could get. She liked subtlety and he apparently went for the obvious.

  She wasn’t into lingerie, but if she were, she’d choose filmy white outfits that were semisheer. Dev admitted to liking leather, specifically a G-string and a push-up bra. And spike-heeled boots. Maybe even a whip, for all she knew.

  As for fragrances, no delicate florals for him. Although he’d said he liked the cinnamon she’d had in the diffuser, he was turned on by heavy, exotic perfumes, the kind that would likely choke her to death. Oh, well. She’d asked, and if she was disappointed in his answers, they only emphasized how wrong she was for him.

  After downloading all the information onto a disk, she got ready for work. She thought about Dev as she stood in front of her closet. Because she was fresh out of leather G-strings and push-up bras, she pulled out her favorite green suit. It was probably too conservative to get his attention, but it made her feel pretty, and she could use that right now.

  She wondered how he would play things this morning. If he ducked out of their regular coffee gathering, she’d know that he was uncomfortable being with her after what had taken place in her apartment. Under the circumstances, she’d rather walk in a couple of minutes later than usual to give him a chance to commit himself one way or the other. If he bailed, she’d have an assistant deliver the tape of the Bulls game to his office.

  When she stepped off the bus, she checked her watch and decided to window-shop on Michigan Avenue for a little while. Although it was still very cold, the wind had let up, so she should be able to dawdle without freezing to death.

  Unfortunately, the constant reminder of Valentine’s Day in every display window depressed her. Not only was she worried about how The Red Doors would do this holiday season, she was also reminded that she had no love life. Nobody was likely to send her gym socks in a heart-shaped box, let alone candy and flowers.

  That was her own fault, she admitted as she gave up on window-shopping and headed down Michigan Avenue at a faster pace. She could have arranged her schedule around an occasional date.

  But she hadn’t.

  Instead she’d compared every other guy with Dev and found them not worth the effort. Maybe it was time to be ruthlessly honest with herself. She’d been doing more than dreaming of Dev as the central player in her sexual fantasies. She’d been imagining him as the central player in her life, for the rest of her life—white lace, champagne toasts, happily ever after.

  Talk about idiotic. But Faith had brought those unconscious dreams to the surface yesterday. Jamie and Dev as a couple. Not likely. She would love to share Dev’s answers to the questionnaire with Faith, just to prove that a matchup was hopeless, but she’d promised Dev confidentiality, and she always kept her promises.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  DEV ARRIVED at the café early because he didn’t want to miss Jamie. He wondered if she’d wimp out, come in the back and go straight up to her office. That would be a dead giveaway that she was avoiding him, because he knew how much she loved that front entrance. In a way, her ducking out might be a good sign, because he’d know that kiss had knocked her off balance, too.

  As luck would have it, Faith showed up before Jamie. Whipping off her coat and gloves, she sat across from Dev, a gleam of anticipation in her eyes. “Did you and Jamie take care of the questionnaire last night?”

  He kept his expression neutral. Faith wouldn’t hear about the kiss from him. “We did.” He glanced up as Mr. Willis approached with a steaming mug of coffee for each of them. Dev had never asked, but he would bet the guy had worked in at least one five-star restaurant in his career. His talent for anticipating a customer’s wishes was uncanny. “Thanks, Mr. Willis.”

  “You’re most welcome.”

  “You’re wonderful, Mr. Willis.” Faith gave the coffee bar manager a smile before zeroing in on Dev again. “That’s good that you completed the questionnaire,” she said. “We need that info.”

  “For the program.”

  “Of course for the program. Dev, I am not giving your answers to Mom. Considering the kinds of questions Jamie and I dreamed up, Mom would have a heart attack if she saw your answers.”

  “I don’t want anybody to know what my answers were—except Jamie, of course.”

  “And that’s the way it’ll be. I promise.”

  Dev sipped his coffee and gazed at his sister. She’d also been raised to keep her promises, so he had to believe she meant what she said. But that didn’t explain her cat-that-ate-the-canary expression. “You’re up to something. I know that look.”

  “I’m excited about the additions to the program, that’s all. Oh, here’s Jamie.”

  Dev’s pulse rate picked up. So she wasn’t so rattled by their kiss that she’d skipped having the usual morning coffee. Okay, she was a cool customer, which made him even more determined to put his plan into action.

  “Hi.” Jamie flipped back her hood and unwound her scarf, which she’d done every workday morning since it had turned cold in November. Except this morning Dev saw it differently, as the first stage in undressing. As she took off her gloves and slipped out of her camel-colored coat, he pictured her reaching for the row of buttons on the jacket of her two-piece suit.

  She’d undo them in a matter-of-fact way. A striptease wasn’t Jamie’s style. Underneath she’d be wearing cotton underwear, and that was fine with him. A woman who wore cotton underwear had suddenly become an irresistible challenge. He saw her as earthy and basic, someone who was into comfort. And he would make her so comfortable…after he turned her inside out.

  “Dev says you finished the questionnaire,” Faith said.

  Dev forced his attention away from Jamie and hoped he hadn’t been caught ogling.

  “Yep, we finished it.” Jamie saw Mr. Willis coming with her coffee and gave him a big grin. “Mr. Willis, you’re a peach.”

  Dev felt an unreasonable spurt of jealousy, and toward a sixty-year-old man, for crying out loud. He was amazed at how quickly he’d settled into the idea of Jamie as his current girlfriend. But she had no idea of his intentions, and he didn’t plan to be obvious about it. He’d leave himself room to back out if she vigorously hated the idea.

  After Jamie sat, she rummaged in her large purse and pulled out a videotape. “Here’s your Bulls game.” She handed it to him.

  “Thanks.” He felt his sister’s curiosity go up a notch. “I forgot to set my VCR before I left for Jamie’s, so she offered to tape the game for me.”

  “So the interview took that long?” Faith asked.

  “Oh, I’m sure Dev saw the last of the game when he got home, but this way he didn’t have to miss any of it,” Jamie said quickly. “By the way, where’s Dixie this morning?”

  Faith studied them both for a moment before answering. “She’s upstairs bugging our supplier for those red teddies we wanted to put on special, the ones that were supposed to arrive last week.” Faith leaned forward. “But if you ask me, she’s hiding out. It seems she has a secret admirer, and she doesn’t know quite what to make of it.”

  “A secret admirer?” Jamie’s saucy grin appeared. “That’s cool. And she has no clue who it is?”

  Jamie had a secret admirer, too, Dev thought, but not for long. Soon he’d swing into action. That grin of hers reminded him of how good her lips tasted, and he could hardly wait for more.

  “She has no idea who it is,” Faith said. “But she’s started getting little notes on elegant paper.”

  “Are we supposed to know about this?” Dev asked.

  Faith nodded. “She said I could tell you both, in case this admirer turns out to
be a dirty old man and she needs backup.”

  “I hope not.” Jamie’s green eyes sparkled. “I hope he’s someone wonderful.”

  Dev wondered what he had to do to produce that sparkle in Jamie’s eyes. He wasn’t into notes on elegant stationery.

  “I have a business decision to run past you, Faith,” Jamie said. “I’m thinking of using a patchouli blend in the diffusers at Heaven Scent for the Valentine push. It’ll ratchet up the intensity, and I think we need that extra punch.”

  “Good thinking, Jamie,” Faith said. “Patchouli’s a great idea.”

  Dev didn’t have much to add to the conversation, but he wanted to see if he could get Jamie to look at him. So far she hadn’t met his gaze. “Sounds like patchouli would make you sneeze.”

  “If it does,” Faith said with a smile, “that’s a sure sign your love life sucks.”

  “Why am I so positive you made that up?”

  “She did,” Jamie said, laughing. Yet her cheeks turned pink and her gaze skittered over to his and away again. “Faith, no fair harassing our best source of interviews.”

  “That’s right,” Dev said. “I’ll have you know I talked two of my buddies into e-mailing Jamie their completed questionnaires last night.”

  “Absolutely true.” Jamie’s glance settled on him for a moment before veering over to Faith. “So far Dev and his friends have been a lot more helpful than my brothers, who whined about how they hate to fill out forms.”

  “Besides,” Dev said, “if anybody should be sneezing when they smell patchouli it would be you, little sis.”

  Faith wrinkled her nose at him. “With what’s going on around here, who has time for a love life?”

  “Ain’t that the truth,” Jamie said. “In fact, I need to get upstairs and consult with Jason on retooling our program.” She stood. Efficiency in motion, she hooked her purse strap over her shoulder, her coat over her arm, and picked up her coffee.