by Jo Leigh
Tanisha had an odd expression on her face. She canted her head and a dark braid fell against her chiseled cheekbone. “Are you all right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You don’t look all right.”
“I am.”
Tanisha nodded at the shopping bags crammed underneath Katie’s desk. “Does this shopping spree and Ladies League seduction, and other crazy behavior have anything to do with losing your mother?”
Her coworker was more perceptive than she imagined. Tanisha’s party-girl personality gave the impression that she wasn’t the type to pry into people’s deep, dark secrets, which was probably one of the reasons Katie had been drawn to her. Katie herself was not a fan of digging into her own psyche.
“Why would you think that?” Katie forced a laugh, but it came out sounding strangled and strange.
“I was thinking that maybe you’re looking to seduce Richard as a way of drowning your sorrow. You know, choking out the pain with pleasure.”
“No, no. Of course not. That’s ludicrous. I can’t believe you thought that.”
“This coming weekend is the two-month anniversary of your mother’s death.”
“So?”
“So maybe instead of facing what’s upsetting you, you’re seducing Richard Hancock.”
“Well, I’m not,” Katie snapped.
Tanisha held up her palms. “Oookay, I was merely checking. No need to get testy.”
“I don’t understand. What do you have against me hooking up with Richard?”
“He’s just not what you need right now.”
“Why not?” she asked. “He’s fun and flirts and likes to have a good time.”
“Exactly.”
“Meaning?”
“You’re two of a kind.”
“Again, why is that a problem?”
“Come on, be straight with me, do you even like Richard?”
Katie shrugged. “Sure.”
“What do you like about him?” Tanisha lifted a finger. “And you can’t say anything physical.”
“He’s…he’s…”
Why couldn’t she think of what she liked about Richard beside his thick blond hair and his radiant white-toothed smile and his big, broad tanned hands? He wasn’t terribly bright, nor was he horribly reliable. But come on, she wasn’t talking about marrying the guy. She just needed to get laid.
“Can’t do it, can you?”
“He’s funny.”
“No, you’re the funny one. He laughs at your jokes.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Oops! Tanisha was right, but Katie didn’t want to admit it. “Okay, then that’s what I like about him. He makes me feel funny.”
“Funny ha-ha or funny weird?”
“Now you’re just giving me a hard time. What’s the deal?”
Tanisha took a deep breath. “Let’s drop the conversation. We’ve both got work to wrap up before the holiday weekend.”
“No, seriously, I want to know.”
“You sure?” Tanisha arched an eyebrow. “You promise not to get mad at me?”
“What do you mean? I’m not an angry person.”
“You didn’t used to be,” Tanisha said.
“But I am now?”
“Well, sometimes, kind of, ever since your mother passed away.”
That stunned her. To hear it from Brooke was one thing. As the oldest, Brooke had often seen it as her job to monitor Katie and correct her behavior, but to hear it from her friend was another story.
“It’s okay,” Tanisha offered. “Everyone understands. You’ve been through a lot. But instead of hooking up with good-time guys like Richard, you might be at a point in your life where it’s time you checked out the other side of the fence. Maybe you should try being with someone more substantial.”
“I don’t get it. Where is this coming from? You party and flirt as much as I do.”
“Yeah, but since I’ve started dating Dwayne I’m looking at things a bit differently.”
“Don’t tell me that you and Dwayne are getting serious! You’ve only known him what? A month? And he lives in Denver. It’s easy to have a great relationship when you rarely see each other.”
“We’re not talking about me and Dwayne. We’re talking about you, and I think you’re doing this as some kind of rebellion you never outgrew. Deep down inside, you’re a lot more traditional than you want people to believe.”
“Huh?”
“If you want to party and flirt and have lots of casual sex then great, do it. Don’t apologize for it. But if you’re doing it simply to prove to yourself that you’re not like the rest of your family, maybe you should take a second look at what kind of lifestyle will really make you happy.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“Is it?”
“Winfield,” boomed a gruff voice from the across the room.
Katie swiveled in her chair to see her boss, Max Kruger, standing in the doorway. A persistent frown rode his bushy eyebrows. Max was fiftyish, sported an out-of-style crew cut and had a penchant for wearing chinos with crisply starched white shirts. He looked like a basketball coach and managed his employees with the same sort of affable crustiness.
“Yes, Mr. Kruger?”
File in hand, Max strode into their office.
“You’re going to have to stay late tonight.”
“But it’s the Friday before the holiday weekend,” Katie said, feeling her plans for seduction slipping away. All she’d wanted was to end the evening in bed with Richard. She’d been dreaming about the feel of a masculine arm around her waist, the smell of a man’s scent in her nostrils, the sweet oblivion of an orgasm.
“So?”
“I have plans.”
“Do you like your job, Winfield?”
“Yes, sir.”
Max thrust the file at her. “Then you’re staying late. Kringle’s Krackers didn’t like the color fill on the logo. They want something more urban chic.”
“For overpriced saltines?”
“Hey, it’s what the customer wants.” He paused before delivering the really bad news. “And you’ve got to come up with the new palette by Tuesday. They need it right away for a special promo venture they have planned.” Max turned and stalked from the room.
Katie groaned and swiveled her chair to face her computer. Muttering darkly under her breath, she grabbed the Kringle’s Krackers file.
“Maybe you should look at this as a sign,” Tanisha said.
“What do you mean?”
“That you’re not supposed to seduce Richard Hancock at the Ladies League masquerade ball.”
She paused a moment, giving Tanisha’s suggestion some thought. “I could look at it as a sign,” she said. “Or I could take it as a challenge to see how quickly I can get this project fixed and get over there.”
Tanisha shook her head. “I gotta hand it to you, K. Whenever you put your mind to something, you put your mind to it.”
“Nah.” Katie grinned. “I’m just deeply into self-sabotage.”
The earthy smell of impending autumn hung thick on the evening breeze. Katie hustled from the Sharper Designs offices, nestled among other quaint structures in an older area of Boston not far from downtown.
At the turn of the twentieth century, the stately buildings had once been personal residences. Then in the 1970s, the area had been zoned commercial and most of the families had pulled up stakes and moved on, leaving their homes to be converted into offices by enterprising developers. The renovated homes created a cozy work environment, but parking space was at a premium and the nearest parking lot lay three blocks away.
It was almost 9:00 p.m. and the Ladies League ball would be in full swing. The streetlamps glowed hazy against the dreamy mist of fog rolling in from the harbor. Katie hurried down the street, her arms laden with the packages she’d bou
ght on her lunch hour.
Her stilettos tapped smartly against the cement sidewalk. Underneath her light fall coat, she wore the French-maid costume. Not wanting to waste time by going home, she’d dressed at the office. She felt decidedly naughty and that naughtiness escalated her excitement and strengthened her resolve.
Come hell or high water, she was determined to seduce Richard Hancock.
Feeling both nervous and brave, walking the streets alone in her costume, she took a deep fortifying breath. What would Richard think of her outfit? She hadn’t told him what she was wearing because the French-maid getup was a spur-of-the-moment decision. Richard, however, had promised to come as Jack Sparrow from Pirates of the Caribbean, complete with a Johnny Depp booty pirate’s wig. Pirate and captive was her favorite sexual fantasy.
Katie could hardly wait. The thrill of the chase quickened her pulse.
She scurried past the pet store that had just opened up the week before. Muted low-level lighting was on in the building and as she turned to step off the curb, she spotted him.
Her heart hammered and her breath caught. Her gaze met his and she was a goner.
The puppy, a honey-colored cocker spaniel, was caged inside the window. His big, sweet chocolate-brown eyes locked on hers.
“Oh.” She breathed, changed directions and walked back toward him. “Oh, you are too cute.”
Frantically, he wagged his tail.
In that instant Katie fell in love. How much is that doggy in the window? The song ran through her head.
You with a dog? Ha!
It was a laughable idea. She lived in a condo and was rarely home. Plus, she’d never had a pet, although she had always wanted one. She remembered begging for a puppy as a kid, but her parents had told her she was too irresponsible. She couldn’t even keep her room clean; how could they trust her to feed and walk a pet?
Katie pleaded with her mom and dad. They’d resisted. She made lavish promises. They balked. She found a stray and fed him cheesy puffs from her lunch to get him to follow her home. Their maid had called the animal shelter.
Finally, realizing how determined she was, her father had relented. He told her if she could prove she was responsible enough to take care of an animal, then she could have one. His test consisted of Katie caring for an egg as if it were a puppy.
She had to take the egg with her wherever she went, making sure never to leave it behind. Keeping track of that egg had been darned hard for an eight-year-old, but after two weeks without a misstep, she was picking out names for her puppy.
Then on the last day, Katie ran to greet her father at the front door as he returned home from work, the egg clutched in her hand. In her excitement, she’d tripped and fallen. Splattering the egg across the foyer in a vivid yellow splash of yolk.
She’d been inconsolable. Her parents were right. She was too irresponsible for a puppy.
Her stern yet loving father didn’t hold the accidental egg smash against her. He’d taken her to the nearest pet store and let her pick out the dog of her choice.
She had selected an exuberant cocker spaniel exactly like this one. Same honey-colored coat, same chocolate-brown eyes. She had named the puppy Duke. It had been the happiest day of her eight-year-old life.
Then she’d gotten Duke home and Brooke had immediately started sneezing. Her sister sneezed all through the weekend, her eyes swelling up, and her nose running. Daisy had taken Brooke to the doctor the next day and they’d returned home with the news that Brooke was highly allergic to dogs.
Katie had been forced to give Duke away. Even now, sixteen years later, she still felt the awful punch to her stomach when she thought about it.
“Hey, little guy,” she cooed, and crouched down to the puppy’s eye level and put her hand to the window front. He tried to lick her fingers, his pink tongue rubbing wetly against the glass.
From past experience, she knew that if she scooped him up in her arms his fur would feel soft as doll hair and he’d lick her face until she ended up on the floor giggling breathlessly while he nibbled at her ears.
Her stomach clutched. A mixture of emotions melded inside her-tenderness, regret and lingering irritation with her sister Brooke’s allergies because she had been forced to miss out on the joys of puppy ownership. Petty maybe, but it was how she felt.
You could have a puppy now.
No, it was too late to relive her childhood. There was no room in her busy life for a dog. Maybe someday, but not now.
“Gotta go,” she whispered, rising to her feet and waving goodbye. “There’s a party waiting and I’ve got a gorgeous man to seduce.”
The puppy whimpered and the wagging of his tail slowed. He sensed she was about to leave him.
“It’s better this way, truly. You wouldn’t be happy at my place. You’d be cooped up all day by yourself. It wouldn’t be fair to you. I’m only thinking of your best interest.”
The cocker spaniel stared at her with his big, adoring eyes.
Her heart ripped. This was silly. What was the matter with her? Getting sentimental over a dog. He was adorable. Someone else would buy him. She had no reason to feel guilty.
But somehow, she did.
She had to shake this feeling, had to shrug off the sadness weighing down her shoulders. Had to stop thinking about her mother and Duke, the puppy she’d only had for a weekend, and Tanisha’s eerily accurate assessment of her.
Fun.
That was what she needed. A strong drink, loud music, a roomful of people dressed in colorful costumes.
And a man to seduce who wouldn’t look at her in the morning the way this puppy was looking at her now.
Head down, she rushed away, trying her very best to outpace the mental demons with which she had no desire to wrestle. She was going to that party and she wasn’t about to let anyone or anything keep her from seducing her pirate.
2
FOR MOST of his adult life, Liam James had been all about the job. Nothing mattered more to him than the real-estate company he’d built from the ground up and molded into a multimillion-dollar empire by the time he was thirty.
He loved his work and excelled in a crisis. It was the worrying beforehand and afterwards that did him in. He was always on the lookout for trouble. And in an odd way he was relieved when it came.
Troubleshooting was what he knew. Lack of trouble made him uneasy. Edgy anticipation. That was his true nemesis. It threw him off his game.
And he was feeling edgy tonight.
Especially since he was dressed in this ridiculous Pirates of the Caribbean, Jack Sparrow costume. By the time he’d made it over to the costume-rental place, this was the only disguise left in his size. He’d already spotted three other Jack Sparrows at the party. Apparently the costume-supply companies had gone overboard on the pirate theme this year.
“What the hell am I doing here?” he muttered under his breath, and scanned the collected crowd at the Ladies League charity masquerade party.
The expensively decorated ballroom was filled with ultrathin, cosmetically enhanced women and self-important, overfed rich men in lavish costumes. The kind of highbrow shindig Liam loathed.
The question was rhetorical. He already knew the answer.
He was here to get an up close and personal look at the man whose seed had spawned him. The man who’d never acknowledged him, nor sent his mother one penny of child support beyond the three hundred dollars he had thrown at her thirty-two years ago, when he’d told her to get an abortion.
That man was Boston’s incumbent mayor, Finn Delancy. Who was up for reelection and was pegged to win it by a landslide.
For years, Liam had imagined this meeting. The moment when he introduced himself and told him, “Thanks for nothing, you worthless son of a bitch. My mother and I made it fine without you. And FYI, blue blood or not, I can buy and sell your ass three times over.”
But now that
he was here, and it was the moment of truth, Liam wasn’t sure exactly how to go about it.
The mayor wore a cowboy costume-ten gallon hat, spurs that jangled, leather chaps, the whole nine yards. He looked utterly foolish but that didn’t stop a bevy of beautiful young women from collecting around him like bargain shoppers to a fire sale.
According to Liam’s mother, Jeanine, Finn had more sexual charisma than Bill Clinton and JFK all rolled into one. He gritted his teeth and fisted his hands. Personally, he couldn’t see the appeal.
“Something the matter, boss?” asked Liam’s right-hand man, Tony Gregory. Tony was dressed as one of the band members from KISS and damn if he didn’t look seriously freaky. Not at all like his normal affable self. “You seem uptight.”
Liam gave a sharp shake of his head. “Nothing’s wrong.”
“So tell me again why I’m here?” Tony cocked his head and sent Liam an assessing gaze.
“My date and I decided it was better if we just stayed friends, so she’s not coming tonight. I had the extra ticket.” He couldn’t really call her his girlfriend. They’d only gone out a few times. “There’s no sense letting two hundred dollars go to waste.”
What he didn’t tell his most trusted confidant was that he badly needed moral support. Willingly admitting a weakness wasn’t something he did, not even to himself. He’d known Tony since their days at Harvard School of Business, but he’d never told him his deepest secret-that he was the bastard son of one of the most influential men in Boston high society.
“You lost another one?” Tony whistled. “Damn, and I really liked Brooke.”
“Don’t worry. We’re still friends.”
“What the hell do you do to chase off so many chicks? You’re rich, good-looking and you bathe regularly. Why don’t any of them stick around for more than a few dates? What gives?”
“I have a low tolerance for the frivolous,” Liam said, narrowing his eyes at Finn Delancy, who had just planted a kiss on the hand of a giggling starlet.
“You’re a workaholic is what you are, and women hate coming second to a man’s career.”
“True enough.”
“Did you like her?”