Kiss Me, Chloe

by Shéa R. MacLeod

  “I was invited.”

  He raised a brow. “By whom?”

  “Um, Bram. Bram Halliday.”

  “How interesting.” He eyed me up and down like he found me vaguely repulsive, which was interesting since he was the one who’d come on to me in the first place. Who’d lied to get a date with me and then begged me to take him back when I dumped him.

  “You know him?”

  “Of course. We work together.”

  “In the accounting department?” I asked.

  He snorted. “Hardly. We’re... friendly competitors. You didn’t know he’s an investment banker?” His tone was mocking.

  Bram was an investment banker? My world-view began to tilt wildly on its axis. “He might have mentioned it, but”—I shrugged—“we had more important things to talk about. I should go find him.”

  “Are you sure he invited you?” There was something sly in Geoff’s tone.

  “Of course I’m sure. He sent a car for me. Why?”

  “Bram usually likes his women more...classy.” He did another one of those sneering full-body scans.

  I couldn’t help the flush that rose in my cheeks. I was humiliated and infuriated in equal measures. I would very much have liked to give him a ninja junk-punch, but it wouldn’t have been appropriate, and probably I would have been arrested. But darn if he didn’t deserve it, the bastard.

  “Excuse me.” I brushed past him, jostling his drink. He cussed as red wine splashed on his pristine white shirt. I felt a thrill of righteous joy, but I didn’t let it show. I marched through the crowd, chin up, ignoring the stares and murmurs.

  And then I saw Bram. He was with a group of people, chatting away. Like the other men, he wore a tuxedo, and my, he looked delicious. Eat your heart out, 007. I walked toward him, and as I drew closer, I could make out bits of the conversation.

  “How are you going to get rid of her?” one of the men asked.

  “I don’t know,” Bram said, “but it’s time she went. I’ve had enough.”

  I stumbled to a halt. Who was he talking about? A tiny voice said it was me, but I shut it up. Surely not. He’d invited me here.

  Just then a thin, raven-haired beauty in a tight red dress appeared out of nowhere and draped herself across Bram. My heart froze. Things started clicking together as the ugly truth stared me in the face.

  Not only had Bram lied to me about what he did for a living, and humiliated me in front of all these people by not telling me to dress for the event, he was talking to his colleagues about getting rid of me. And he was flaunting his floozy in public. His thin, big-boobed floozy.

  Anger rose so hard and fast, I thought I might explode. I snagged a glass of wine from the nearest waiter and stalked toward my prey.

  I’d show him, the rat bastard. I stormed up to Bram, stopping a couple feet away. “Hello, Bram.”

  “Chloe.” He looked startled, either at my sudden appearance or at my actual appearance. He attempted to disengage from the red dress with little luck.

  “I see you didn’t wait for me to start partying,” I sneered.

  He glanced at Big Boobs. “This isn’t...”

  “Save it for someone who cares, you lying bastard.” And with that, I launched the entire contents of my glass straight into his face.

  While he sputtered and coughed, trying to wipe the wine off his face while his colleagues stood around gaping, I whirled on my heel and stormed across the ballroom, out the door, and down the steps. The coat check girl must have seen me coming, because she was already holding out my coat, her eyes wide and round. I mumbled my thanks as I snagged it from her.

  “You might want to fix your makeup,” she whispered. I touched my cheek and realized I was crying. Dammit. She nodded toward a door marked Ladies and gave me a sympathetic look before scurrying away.

  I rushed into the bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror. I looked a wreck. My eyes were already red and swollen, and my tears had made inelegant tracks in my makeup. To make matters worse, my nose was running. I was such an ugly crier.

  I grabbed a paper towel and snagged my compact from my bag, and went to work trying to repair some of the damage. I did not need people staring at me while I made my way home, and I really didn’t need a bunch of strangers feeling sorry for me.

  I was just tucking my compact back in my purse when the bathroom door swung open and in stalked Big Boobs in her tiny red dress. She sneered at me in the mirror.

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

  I turned slowly, eyeing her like she was nothing more important than a bug. “I don’t see as that’s any of your business,” I said as haughtily as I could. Two could play this game.

  Her sneer grew even nastier. For a beautiful woman, she sure was ugly. “Don’t you get it? It’s never going to happen.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Well, I could guess, but I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction.

  “Oh, I think you do. You’re just a phase, you know. He needed to get it out of his system.” She eyed me with distaste. “Bram is mine.”

  “You can have him.” I pushed past her out into the foyer and stormed toward the front door.

  The doorman barely had time to open it as I barreled through. On the sidewalk, I stumbled to a halt. I had no car. The driver had left before I could find out when and if he was returning. There were no taxis anywhere on the street. It wasn’t the usual sort of place for catching a taxi, and who knew where the nearest Tube stop was, though I knew it was fairly close. I could call a cab, but then I’d have to wait here in front of the darned building. What if someone came out and saw me? How totally embarrassing. I figured if I started walking, I’d get somewhere eventually, so that’s what I did. I’d rather get blisters than be caught anywhere near Bram’s party.

  I was halfway down the block when I heard the shout. “Chloe! Wait!”

  I knew it was Bram, so I kept walking. There was nothing for us to talk about. He’d been at the party with another woman. A party he’d invited me to. Why would he do that? Had he been trying to humiliate me on purpose for some sick, twisted reason? I should have known better than to get involved with a guy like him. He was worse than a flakey musician. He was a heartless jackass. I should have listened to my instincts. I’d been such a fool.

  I heard footsteps on the pavement behind me and knew he was following. I picked up the pace, but then I heard more footsteps and another voice. One I recognized.

  “Forget it, mate,” came Geoff’s lazy tone, “she’s not worth it. That’s what you get for slumming.”

  Slumming? I swear smoke boiled out my ears. I spun around to give that jerk a piece of my mind in time to see Bram land a solid punch on Geoff’s jaw. Geoff went down like a sack of potatoes.

  I didn’t stick around. I’d seen and heard quite enough for one evening, thank you. I slipped around the corner while Bram wasn’t looking, slid off my heels, and ran.

  “YOU DID WHAT?” KATE sounded horrified. I’d called her the minute I was out of sight of the party venue.

  “He deserved it. He lied to me, Kate. And he humiliated me.”

  “You don’t know that. Men can be kind of clueless when it comes to appropriate dress. He could have assumed you knew ‘dress nice’ was synonymous with black tie.”

  “Oh, please,” I snapped. “That’s a bit of a stretch, don’t you think?”

  “Trust me,” Kate said drily. “It wouldn’t be the first time a woman showed up dressed inappropriately to an event because her significant other ‘forgot’ to tell her the dress code.”

  “Adam?” I gasped. “Surely not.” Adam was one of the most thoughtful people I’d ever met. He treated Kate like a queen. He’d die before embarrassing her.

  “Yes, Adam. He told me we were doing an interview for a magazine, and there would be pictures. So I dressed to the nines, as one does.”

  “I don’t see the problem.”

  “It was for Contemporary Pet,” she
said dryly.

  “Oh, no.”

  “Oh, yes. They wanted us posing with all these dogs. I had hair and slobber all over my best day dress.”

  I couldn’t help laughing. “You must have been furious.”

  “I was. I looked like an idiot in a fancy dress with all these dogs climbing on me. But he made it up to me,” she said smugly.

  “Okay, fine. So maybe that part was a mistake, but why the heck would he invite me when clearly, he was there with another woman?”

  “Are you sure she was his date and not just some woman flirting with him?”

  “Oh, it was pretty obvious. He was practically wearing her like a coat. And that’s not all.” I winced as I told her what I’d overheard.

  Kate sighed. “I’m sorry, Chloe. That sucks. But are you sure he was talking about you? I mean, he could have been talking about any number of people. Someone at work, maybe.”

  “Whatever. I’m over it.” I wasn’t, and Kate knew it.

  “Hey, I know. Adam’s going to be late tonight. Why don’t we go to the Purple Note? Sing your heart out. That’ll cheer you up. I know it’s not Monday, but I bet Gabriel will let you onstage if you ask.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. With my luck, Bram will be there.”

  “He’s at the awards dinner, remember? It probably won’t be over until late. I doubt he’ll go to the club, and if he does, we’ll be long gone.”

  “Okay,” I finally agreed. “I’ll meet you there.”

  “Thirty minutes. I’ll see if Kev can join us. Five minutes with the Drama Queen of Notting Hill, and you’ll forget all about Bram.”

  THE PURPLE NOTE WAS crammed with people when I arrived. They spilled out the door and onto the sidewalk, huddling in little groups to puff on cigarettes. More than one man eyed me appreciatively, but I ignored them. My head was still stuck on Bram. Or maybe it was my heart—stupid thing.

  I tromped through the door, elbowing my way through the crowd. Some of them were regulars and recognized me, nodding and murmuring hello as I pushed past. I stood on tiptoes trying to see over the crowd. I finally spotted Kate and Kev huddled around a tiny table crammed up next to the stage. How had they managed to snag such a prime spot?

  Kev caught sight of me and waved wildly, shouting something I couldn’t hear over the wail of the saxophone. It wasn’t Bram. I’d met the sax player once before. Charlie was half Chinese, half British, and all of about five feet tall, and he could play the sax like nobody’s business. Only Bram was better. Part of me was relieved not to see him there, but part of me was disappointed, too, which was stupid. Not only did I not want to see him, but I knew he was at that darned party.

  I wended my way through the crowd toward the tiny table. “How’d you rate this?” I asked, plopping into a seat between Kev and Kate.

  “Gabriel recognized me,” Kate admitted. “I think he’s hoping if he kisses my butt enough, I’ll lure Adam in here.”

  I couldn’t blame him. Adam Wentworth spending an evening in the Purple Note would boost the club’s visibility for sure. Not that it needed help, if tonight’s crowd was anything to go by.

  The song ended and Charlie waved me over. “Ladies and Gentlemen,” he said into the microphone. “I give you our own lovely, Chloe Daniels.”

  The crowd clapped wildly, though I doubted most of them had heard me sing. Kate reached over and squeezed my hand.

  “You go, girl,” Kev shouted loud enough for half the club to hear. Everyone laughed goodnaturedly.

  I climbed up on the stage and nodded to Charlie, who waved me to the singer’s mic. It was one of those old fashioned-looking things straight out of the Golden Age. There was something about singing into that mic, caressing it with my hands. It was like I was transported to another time and place. I felt stronger, sexier, more in control. Maybe I could channel a little Mary Lou sass tonight.

  I cupped the back of the mic with one hand and flashed a smile to the crowd. “Hit it, Henry,” I said to the pianist. The older man nodded and grinned before striking the opening cords of a song we both knew well, “You Lied” from the movie Pillow Talk. The jazz singer had sung it at Rock Hudson’s character. The man had lied to Doris Day all through the movie, and the singer had let him know she was on to his tricks. It seemed appropriate.

  I gave it a lighthearted spin but with a definite undercurrent of payback. I could see people grinning, poking each other, or nodding in agreement. I doubted I was the only woman in the room who’d been lied to by a man. Or vice versa, to be fair.

  As I started the final line of the song, someone pushed his way through the crowd and up onto the stage. Bram. I stopped mid-sentence, and then I did the most embarrassing thing. I burst into tears.

  Chapter 19

  EMBARRASSED, I BLINDLY fled the stage, slamming into the edge of a table with my thigh, nearly doubling over with the pain. That was going to leave a mark. The spotlights had been in my eyes, and I hadn’t seen it. I winced as I hobbled toward the exit, not even stopping at the table for my jacket and purse. I didn’t care. I just needed to get out of there, away from the stares and whispers and Bram Halliday.

  Okay, that wasn’t fair. Up until tonight’s incident, he’d been nothing but wonderful to me. But tonight....

  “Chloe Daniels.” The voice that boomed over the sound system was unmistakable. All around me the room hushed to almost unnatural stillness. I kept going. “Chloe Daniels, I need to tell you something. Something true.”

  That stopped me. I was suddenly mad as a hornet, more at myself than anything. Spinning around I shouted back, “Yeah? Well, you had your chance.”

  “Chloe, I’m sorry I didn’t explain things to you better. I’m sorry about the mix-up over the party, and I’m really sorry about Miranda.”

  I frowned. “Miranda?”

  “The woman in the red dress. It wasn’t what you thought.”

  “Oh. Big Boobs.”

  Titters from the crowd. I ignored them, but I couldn’t ignore Bram. His eyes snagged mine clear across the room. I could feel how sorry he was, how much he wanted me to understand.

  “Okay, if it wasn’t what I thought, what was it?”

  “We used to date.” Of course they did. “Nothing serious. She’s...well, you saw how she is. I broke it off months ago, but she wouldn’t give up. Tonight at the party, I set her straight. She’s not a problem anymore.”

  So that was who he’d been talking about with his colleagues. Not me. “Is that what you came to tell me?”

  Eager eyes watched us like we were an episode of Jerry Springer. Somebody was holding up a cell phone, recording us, no doubt.

  “I wanted to tell you I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t more upfront about what I do for a living,” he said it so sincerely, I wanted to believe him. “But so many women have wanted to date me because of what was in my bank account. I didn’t want that with you. I wanted you to know the real me. The me nobody else sees. The me beyond the money and the job and the fancy dinners.”

  I let out a hysterical giggle. Bram frowned.

  “Um, yeah. Let’s just say I’m the last person you need to worry about wanting you for your money.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Let’s just say I do okay on my own.” I didn’t want to explain my financial status to the entire club, so I cut him off and crossed my arms. “Talk about humiliating me in front of your whole darned office by not telling me it was black tie.” But there was no heat to my words. I knew in my bones, he hadn’t done it on purpose.

  “I’m sorry about that. I should have been clearer. Obviously communication is something we need to work on in the future.” He gave me a wry smile. I swear I heard somebody let out a heartfelt sigh. “But, Chloe, you looked better than any woman there. Screw them.” It sounded almost funny with his proper English accent. “Bunch of stuffed shirts. They can’t hold a candle to you.”

  I struggled to hold back the world’s biggest grin, but it was a lost cause. “Really?�
��

  “Really.”

  “About time you noticed.”

  There were chuckles from the audience.

  “I’m going to tell you the truest thing in the world right now,” Bram said.

  Suddenly my palms were sweating, and my heart was beating as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. I developed tunnel vision, seeing only him. In that moment, nothing and nobody else mattered.

  And then he said it, right there in front of God, Santa, and everyone. “Chloe. You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. You’re bright, you’re funny, you’re beautiful, and there is no one in the world I’d rather be with.”

  The club erupted into cheers and whistles, and I stared at Bram with my mouth open. My brain had gone on pause or something, because I couldn’t think of what to do next. Finally the crowd quieted, and everyone turned to stare at me, waiting expectantly. It was as if the entire world held its collective breath.

  “Don’t be a fool. Tell the man how you feel,” somebody shouted from up near the stage. Kev. Of course.

  I swallowed the brick in my throat. “There’s no one else in the world I’d rather be with than you.”

  His grin was blinding. “So we ride this thing together and see where it goes?”

  “Yes.” It came out barely a whisper.

  “What?” Kate this time. “We can’t hear you.”

  I cleared my throat. “Yes!” I all but shouted across the club. The crowd erupted again, and the grin on Bram’s face was something I’d remember forever.

  I felt hands on my back, shoving me toward the stage. Then Bram was reaching down, grabbing my hand, and pulling me up. His lips met mine, and the whole world melted away. When it came back, the crowd was stomping and cheering and demanding a song.

  “What shall we sing?” Bram asked, his blue eyes intent on mine.

  “‘At Last,’ Etta James,” I said without hesitation.

  “Perfect,” he said. “Just like you.”

  “I’m not perfect,” I said as the first strains of the song filled the air.