He looked up in agitation, blowing a lock of sweat-damp blond hair out of his eyes. By the looks of things, he’d managed to get more of the breakfast food on his T-shirt and pajama pants than in the frying pans.
“Oh, hey,” he mumbled distractedly. “I was hoping to have all this done before you woke up. You know, as a little surprise. To, ah, say I was really, really sorry for the way I acted at times last night. And to also thank you for coming to the party. It meant a lot to me, Delilah, especially since I know how much you hate that stuff.”
She was so touched by his sweet apology, and also by his hard-fought efforts to cook her a lavish breakfast, that she instantly forgot what an ass he’d been for a time the previous evening. She walked over to him, tenderly brushed the errant lock of hair off his forehead, and gave him a kiss on the lips.
“You don’t have to thank me,” she told him. “And so long as you don’t act like a jerk ever again, there’s no need to keep apologizing. Now, I know you had good intentions and I really, really appreciate it, but you need to hand over that spatula now, Finn. Otherwise you’re going to burn this kitchen down.”
Finn gave a sigh of relief as he willingly placed the spatula in her outstretched hand. “God, I was hoping you’d say that.”
Chapter Seventeen
Late June
“I’ve lived in the Bay Area all of my life, except for the few years I was away at college, and never knew this place existed until tonight. Is this supposed to be some secret, hidden club or something? Like you need to have the password in order to gain entry?”
Finn laughed at Delilah’s half-joking question. “You probably aren’t too far off with your assessment of this place, actually. From what Jordan has told us about this club, it’s existence is pretty much kept a closely guarded secret, and the members here go out of their way to maintain a low profile. Basically, the only way to gain membership these days is to inherit your way in when a family member dies. That’s how Jordan got accepted. His maternal grandfather was a member for most of his life, and when he passed away the club membership went to Jordan since he was the only grandchild.”
Delilah looked around the grand, high-ceilinged room with its polished wood floors, paneled walls, and majestic chandeliers. The room, and the rest of the club she’d seen thus far, practically oozed old money, high society, and echoes of an era of wealth and privilege that were rarely on display nowadays. At the same time, however, the furnishings and décor were discreetly understated, as though anything more overt or flamboyant would have been considered in bad taste.
Even though Jordan had proposed to Aubrey nearly three months ago, tonight was the first date the club had been available for a private party, and also when most of their family and friends would be free to attend. And from the looks of things thus far, Jordan hadn’t spared any expense in hosting this engagement party. The booze was top shelf, all premium brands, and there were three bartenders hard at work behind the expansive bar with its gleaming hardwood countertop and mirrored glass shelves. The appetizers being passed around by the neatly uniformed staff were all of the very best quality as well - huge jumbo shrimp, smoked salmon and crème fraiche on toast points, baby lamb chops, ultra-thin asparagus spears wrapped in delicate prosciutto. A sit-down dinner in the adjoining dining room would follow after the cocktail hour, and a jazz quartet would be playing dance music after the meal had been served.
She had adored this place on sight - this splendid example of old San Francisco society, a throwback to a time when men and women both dressed up every time they left the house, whether it was to go out to a fancy dinner or simply to the movies. And while she’d almost literally counted the minutes until the party sponsored by the vodka brand had ended earlier this month, Delilah planned to fully enjoy every single moment of tonight’s celebration.
“I take it that this sort of party is way more your thing than the one we attended in L.A.?” inquired Finn, almost as though he’d just read her mind.
Delilah’s mouth quirked up at the corners as she took a sip of her champagne cocktail. “Kind of like night and day comparing the two events, don’t you think?” she commented. “I mean, the other party wasn’t out of hand or anything, no one was dancing on tabletops or getting too wild. But there was definitely much more of a party atmosphere going on there, people were drinking a lot more, and wearing a lot less. For example, I doubt if that skank who confronted me in the bathroom would have even been allowed in here this evening, given that she looked like a high-priced hooker.”
Finn slipped an arm around her waist, giving her a little squeeze. “I already told you that I never dated Nita, much less banged her,” he whispered defensively. “Until you described her to me, I wasn’t even sure I had her name right. And Trace and Braden assured me three times that she’s permanently off their guest list for future events. Nobody’s going to be allowed to say that kind of stuff to you, Delilah. I won’t have bitches like her upsetting you. Okay?”
She leaned her head against his shoulder, smiling up at him gratefully. “Okay. And, honestly, that wasn’t why I brought her up. It was merely to make the point that this is a much more sophisticated event. Classier. Much more my speed. Not to mention a smaller crowd.”
Aubrey and Jordan had both been intent on keeping tonight’s party on the small side, inviting just immediate family, their closest friends, and his partners from the medical practice. Delilah estimated that there were perhaps fifty or so people here this evening, compared to the two hundred plus who had been in attendance at the big, noisy event in L.A. She was much more at ease in these sort of surroundings, and with a modest sized group. And she had no concerns whatsoever that Finn would turn into his party boy alter-ego at any point during the evening. The guests of honor would probably never speak to him again if he got out of control, plus the chances were high that the stern looking club manager would have Finn physically removed from the premises if he got out of hand.
Not, of course, that she had any real reason to expect him to behave badly. Since the incident earlier this month - what had amounted to their first semi-serious argument - Finn had been on his best behavior. He’d been even more attentive to her, bringing her flowers and those out-of-this world croissants she had become addicted to, and making sure she didn’t wear herself out. Work had been more demanding than ever this past month, and was about to become even more so, given that she had just signed the contract with Bloomingdale’s this past week. To celebrate, Finn had taken her out to a fabulous dinner at Gary Danko, and then to see a performance of Hamilton at the theater. That had been after he’d treated the entire office to a lavish catered lunch, complete with champagne.
No, Finn hadn’t misbehaved even a tiny bit - unless, of course, one counted the bedroom, where he continued to be as naughty and adventuresome as ever. But Delilah also knew that the start of football season was inching ever closer, which meant he would have to make weekly trips down to the network studios in L.A. to tape his pre-game show. There would also be travel involved to several games over the course of the season, as well as a number of parties and other promotional events he would be expected to attend. And those were precisely the sort of occasions she was most worried about, especially since it was highly unlikely she’d be able to accompany him to very many of them.
He had already pleaded with her to attend some big party in Las Vegas in a month’s time, an event intended to kickoff the official start of the season. His bosses and co-workers at the network would be there, of course, as well as a lot of football players, coaches, and celebrities. And he had sounded so excited about the prospect of introducing her to all of those people that Delilah hadn’t had the heart to tell him that a party of that size and magnitude sounded like her own personal hell. Besides, she had reasoned to herself, it was extremely doubtful she’d be able to get away, even for a quick weekend trip, considering all of the work she was going to be faced with to prepare for the Bloomingdale’s deal. She had
n’t quite broken the news to Finn as yet, knowing he’d be upset and do his damndest to convince her otherwise. And things were so good between them right now, so fun and easy and enjoyable, that the last thing she wanted to do was make waves in their still-evolving relationship.
A relationship that she wasn’t quite sure how to define, if she was being honest with herself. She and Finn always introduced the other as their boyfriend or girlfriend, and they saw each other on an almost daily basis, given the fact that they lived across the hall from each other. They weren’t living together, not technically at least, but that was largely due to each of them owning their own residence. Mostly, they went back and forth between their two units, usually hers during the week so that she could have quick access to her home office if creative inspiration struck at some odd hour, and then his place on the weekends.
They had met the other’s closest friends, though admittedly Delilah didn’t have a whole lot of friends who lived in San Francisco. Friends from college were scattered all over the world, and she’d lost touch with most of her high school class. Finn, on the other hand, seemed to have friends on just about every block in the city, whether it was someone he knew from Stanford or his gym or just a guy he’d met at a bar four years earlier.
They had gone out to dinner or brunch a few times with Desiree, and even been on the sidelines cheering her on during one of her triathlons. Finn had taken a real interest in the sport, quizzing Desiree about her training regime, and musing about the possibility of completing a tri himself one of these days. Desiree had seemed flattered by his attention, and was warming to him more and more - at least as much as her sister warmed up to anyone.
And while she had yet to meet Finn’s parents face to face, she’d been introduced to them via Facetime, and was now friends with his mom on Facebook. Jerry McManus, she’d been told, barely knew how to send a text message, much less navigate social media, so it was largely left up to his wife Susan to handle such things on his behalf.
Susan was eager to meet Delilah face to face, and she and Jerry were hoping to fly out to San Francisco in late August for a visit. Susan had confided to Delilah during one of their Facebook chats that she’d feared her oldest child would never settle down, and was destined to spend the rest of his life unattached and alone. And while Mrs. McManus seemed far too polite to outright ask Delilah what the real status of her relationship with Finn was, Delilah knew the older woman was practically itching to know the answer.
An answer, thought Delilah with a sigh, that she wouldn’t be able to provide. Right now she was as much in the dark as anyone about where her relationship with Finn might be headed in the coming months. He seemed perfectly content with the status quo, had never once mentioned the long term future, and she hadn’t dared to even utter the word “marriage” in his presence.
Not, of course, that she had any desire to get married herself in the foreseeable future. Not when she already felt married to her job to a degree, a job that was only going to get busier and more demanding as time progressed. And while Finn was continuing to prove her initial impression of him as a morally corrupt playboy wrong, she was still far from convinced that he was husband material. Or, on the flip side, that she was really capable of making someone a good wife. The utter wreck of her parents’ marriage had tainted all of that for her, had made her cynical and suspicious, and trust didn’t come easy for her, no matter who that person was.
But she wasn’t going to think about any of that tonight, she determined, finishing up her drink and then snatching up a sundried tomato polenta square from a passing waiter’s tray.
“You want a refill on that?” asked Finn, taking her empty glass and setting it on a side table.
“Maybe in a minute. I’m good right now. Though you have my permission to smack me on the hand if I dare to take even one more appetizer. Everything is so good, though,” she groaned.
He smiled at her indulgently, brushing his knuckles against her cheek. “You know I’m never going to tell you not to eat something,” he chided. “Especially since you’ve been burning the candle at both ends lately. Calvin tells me that you barely touch the lunches I bring you or have sent over, that you give him the leftovers and threaten him with dire consequences if he blabs to me.”
Delilah scowled darkly. “Threats that he apparently didn’t take very seriously, since it sounds like the little tattletale has been hard at work. As you can tell, I’m hardly wasting away before your eyes, Finn, so a few skipped meals here and there aren’t going to make much of a difference. Besides, I think I ate a whole week’s worth of calories just in the last hour. And as tight as this dress is, I don’t want to tempt fate.”
She was wearing one of her newer designs, something she’d drawn up with summer in mind, though still sophisticated enough to wear to a place like Jordan’s private club. She’d fretted over wearing it this evening, though, since the bottom half of the dress was white, and the last thing she wanted to do was try and upstage Aubrey. But Calvin had snarkily reminded her, “Hey, it’s an engagement party, Boss Lady, not the wedding. The bride-to-be isn’t likely to be wearing white, you know.”
That realization, plus the fact that the top half of the dress was black, had convinced Delilah it would be perfectly fine to wear it this evening, and she hadn’t regretted her decision. The black top had tiny spaghetti straps, and a modest décolletage, with a row of black jet buttons running from the top of the sweetheart neckline down to the waist. From there the dress’s white skirt was close fitting, the narrow hem ending an inch or two above the knee. She’d worn black patent stiletto pumps, and had chosen diamond jewelry - three carat stud earrings, a dainty heart shaped pendant suspended from a platinum chain, and a tennis bracelet. Unlike the bulk of her fine jewelry, however, she had purchased all three of these pieces herself, rather than delving into her mother’s collection.
She had toned down her makeup a bit, going for a sophisticated feel rather than a dramatic or the all-out femme fatale image she often favored. Instead of her usual red lipstick, she’d chosen a soft coral shade that she liked to wear in the summer.
Finn smacked his lips as he looked her over, as though she was the tastiest thing he’d seen all night. “Mmm, mmm. Speaking of tempting - you look like sin in that dress, babe. In fact, you’re so damned gorgeous and sexy nobody’s even paying attention to Aubrey.”
“Hardly,” scoffed Delilah. “Aubrey looks sensational, and you know it. And when her sister’s standing next to her, everyone in the room stares at them. It’s sort of spooky how much they resemble each other, given that they aren’t twins or even full sisters.”
Finn nodded, guiding her in the direction of the bar. “Even more so when you consider they didn’t even know the other existed until a year or so ago. They seem so close now you’d think they grew up together.”
While Finn ordered their drinks, Delilah glanced over at Aubrey and her half-sister Tessa. Aside from the fact that Tessa was a few years older, and Aubrey a couple of inches taller, the two women could have certainly been mistaken for twins. There were a few other subtle differences, of course. Tessa’s figure was a bit fuller, as was to be expected for a mother of two very young children, her complexion a couple of shades lighter. Her blonde hair was cut to just below shoulder length, while Aubrey’s was a few inches longer. Their taste in clothes was very similar, though Aubrey had admitted she happily relied on her sister for fashion advice since she was far from an expert on the subject.
Tonight the glowing bride-to-be was wearing yellow, a color Delilah knew to be her favorite, and her sharp eye recognized the designer as Alexander McQueen. The silky chiffon dress had a deep V-neckline, the fabric falling in soft, gathered layers to just above the knee. Aubrey’s high-heeled sparkly gold sandals coordinated nicely with the silky satin belt fastened around her small waist. She was wearing more makeup than Delilah had ever seen her use, probably due to her sister’s influence.
Delilah had gli
mpsed a few photos of Tessa Gregson - along with her strikingly handsome husband Ian and their two adorable children - at Aubrey and Jordan’s apartment, but this was the first time she’d ever seen her in the flesh. Tessa was quieter, more subdued than her perky, outgoing sister, and there was a gentleness about her that bordered on fragility. But there was nothing fragile about the way she looked tonight - impeccably garbed in a corset-styled dress of a cream and light blue floral print. The horribly expensive dress - Dolce and Gabbana if she wasn’t mistaken - was both classy and sexy, much like the woman who wore it.
“Have you met Aubrey’s sister yet?” Delilah asked Finn as he handed her another champagne cocktail.
“Tessa? Sure, a few times. Uh, actually, I knew her before Jordan ever met Aubrey. I guess you haven’t heard that story yet, come to think of it. We’re sort of careful not to bring it up, actually. Everything is cool now, of course, but for awhile last year Aubrey was good and pissed off at Jordan because he - well, let me start at the beginning.”
Delilah was a little incredulous as Finn related how Jordan had developed quite the crush on Tessa Gregson, who was not only the wife of a good friend but one of his OB/GYN patients as well. Jordan had never even considered making a move on a happily married woman, but his attraction to Tessa had probably been the worst kept secret in the city. And when he’d met Aubrey while vacationing in Maui, it had been impossible for him not to instantly notice her startling reaction to the other woman.
But while his initial attraction to Aubrey had been because of her looks, he had almost immediately realized that so far as personalities were concerned, she was very different from the shy, reserved Tessa. And it had ultimately been Aubrey’s sunny, fun loving attitude that had captured Jordan’s heart. The fact that he had unwisely delayed telling Aubrey about Tessa, and the fact that she could be her twin, had blown up in Jordan’s face, angering not just Aubrey but also Tessa and her husband Ian in the process.
The Player Gets Coached Page 27