Various States of Undress: Virginia

by Simcox, Laura

  That wiped the smile from his face. He glanced around, his gaze flicking over the agents and then the paparazzi. Finally, he turned sideways and his knee brushed hers. “I’d like to help you.”

  “You like to help me . . . but?” She couldn’t keep the skepticism from her voice.

  “No buts. You’re in over your head, Virginia Fulton.”

  Well, no shit. Even the squirrel who’d been sitting on the arm of the bench knew that. She’d never managed an account on her own, much less a huge one, and she had yet to sell a single piece of real estate. The ink on her license was barely dry. But she hadn’t expected Dex to be so blunt. People weren’t blunt with her, especially people she barely knew.

  “It’s not your fault,” Dex continued. “Owlton was losing money hand over fist long before he kicked the bucket.”

  “I’m not blaming myself.”

  “I didn’t say you were, did I?”

  Virginia flipped her notebook closed. “You implied it, but let’s move on. Why do you want to help me?”

  “Because you can help me too.” Dex shrugged nonchalantly. “You’re fun, right? And sexy, which is exactly what I want. So if you’re interested—”

  Beneath her glasses, her eyes became wide as Frisbees. “What?”

  “What?” he repeated.

  “Are you . . . propositioning me?”

  He frowned. “What gives you that idea? I just said—”

  Virginia threw the notebook and pen back into her bag and stood up. “Okay. That’s it. I’m leaving.” She turned and walked away from the bench, signaling her agents with a raised hand. Her heels sank into the grass with every step, and she gritted her teeth as the paparazzi slid out from behind trees to snap photos. Dammit. Of all the things she expected today, being so blatantly hit on was not one of them.

  Behind her, Dex spoke. “Wait! That came out wrong. I shouldn’t have used the word sexy. You’re not sexy. You’re . . .”

  Narrowing her eyes, she turned around and watched as he stood up, his expression pained. His fingers spread apart and he stared at them as if they would help him find the right words. “I mean, you are sexy—let’s be honest,” he continued, “but I didn’t mean for that to be the point. I was asking you to be a consultant for Lilah’s. For the department store.”

  A fashion consultant? Her? Immediately, she loved the idea. No, not loved. Adored. But she’d come here to talk about real estate. Why would he assume he could change the purpose of their meeting on the spot? Because she was sexy? She shook her head, and Dex grinned. His mouth was sexy. She quit looking at it and examined her manicure.

  “The word consultant never came out of your mouth,” she replied, her voice a lot calmer than the thoughts swirling around in her head.

  “It didn’t?”

  “No.” She glanced up and cocked her head to the side. “Neither did department, store, nor Lilah’s.”

  He nodded. “Okay. That went . . . not well.” After opening and closing his mouth a couple of times, he took a few steps forward. “I’ll explain. You’re fashionable and famous, and our flagship store is old-fashioned and forgotten. That store is where Cameron Enterprises began, after all. It’s the last one left, and it’s kept alive only out of nostalgia. But I intend to make it profitable again.”

  “Why?”

  Dex shrugged. “Reasons that have nothing to do with you.” He glanced at the two agents who approached, talking into their sleeves.

  Virginia walked as gracefully as she could across the soaked grass and stopped a couple of feet away from Dex. “Let’s assume I’m interested in helping you. How will you help me?”

  “I can get you a list of potential new clients.”

  She raised an eyebrow.

  “A solid list.” He grinned, and her breath caught. “A sexy list,” he added. Her breath whooshed out in a disgusted sigh.

  He closed his eyes for a second. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have used the word ‘sexy’ again. Sometimes when I attempt to joke, what I imply and what’s understood aren’t the same thing.”

  “You think?”

  “I try not to think about it.” Dex coughed. “In any case, I believe we could help each other. Maybe we could even start tonight.”

  The two agents stopped on either side of Virginia, and she folded her arms. Larry on one side, Virginia in the middle, and Charlie on the end. Muscles, the bad-ass president’s daughter, and Silent. With any luck, the three of them in their sunglasses looked like a vice squad or something. Not that she was actually scared of Dex Cameron. Not anymore. Not much. “Tonight? That’s awfully . . . soon.”

  “I need to go to a charity event. Take advantage of a few photo ops.” He shrugged. It seemed to be his go-to move. But Virginia bet he did care more than the shrug implied. A lot more.

  “Take advantage, hmm? I’m going to interpret your situation, and you tell me if I’m right.” She stepped forward, a little bit too close to him, but she couldn’t correct herself without looking like she was backing away. And what she had to say needed to be said in his face. “You want some photo ops with a wild ’n’ crazy daughter of the president of the United States because you want your name in the news as you move up the food chain in Cameron Enterprises. Maybe you’re eager to take over the reins. Want to prove yourself? Yeah, I’m going with that. So you pounce on the First Daughter, who obviously needs you as a client, and naturally, you assume she will say yes.”

  A slow smile crossed Dex’s face. “I don’t assume anything, Virginia. But I do know that you’re intuitive. What do you say? Can we work together?”

  “No.” She turned and half walked, half sank her way to the paved path. Her agents fell into step, one in front and one behind. And even though she was sandwiched by security, she felt vulnerable. Damn Dex. Why did he have to be hot? If she’d met him in a club and didn’t know who he was, she would flirt with him like crazy, no question about it.

  Yet there was also no question that her barfly days were over. Now that she had zero clients, she needed to focus.

  “The Owlton Company will have a much easier time relaunching with Cameron Enterprises as a backer,” Dex called to her.

  She didn’t turn around. “I’m perfectly capable of introducing myself, thank you. It’s not as if people don’t already know who I am.”

  “But do they know that your brains fill more than your designer shoes?”

  This time she turned around and marched back toward him. “Of course they do,” she lied. “My brains are obvious, unlike your social skills, which are completely nonexistent.”

  “Completely?” He folded his arms and frowned at her. “If my social skills were that bad, you’d have walked away five minutes ago. I mean, we’re not at some wild club party, and yet you’re still having a conversation with me.”

  “Wild club party? What makes you say that?” But Virginia already knew. Everyone who’d even glanced at the front page of the New York Post or TMZ’s website knew.

  “Having a bad image is a real bitch, isn’t it?” Dex asked softly.

  Yes. It sucked. Knowing that most of the world thought she was a dimwit really hurt. But she didn’t need him telling her that.

  “What harm could it do to be seen with me? Unless you enjoy your reputation?” Dex lifted an eyebrow and then pulled her umbrella out of the grass. “You forgot this.”

  “Thanks,” Virginia said automatically. When she reached out for it, her fingers brushed his and she jerked back. His eyes twinkled in response.

  “There’s a children’s benefit tonight. Half the people you need to meet will be there. Will you go with me?”

  She stared at him, and her mind screamed, “Fat chance!” But then something strange happened. A look crossed his face. It was vulnerable . . . as if he had just asked her to the high school prom, knowing that he didn’t have a chance in hell. And then it was gone, replaced by that half smile that was beginning to drive her crazy.

  “Okay,” she heard herself saying. “I’ll
go with you. But as for the business arrangement? You have a lot to prove.”

  “So do you,” he murmured. “Let me give you my info.”

  She pulled out her notebook and handed him a pen. He scribbled for a moment, glancing up briefly as the paparazzi crept out from behind the trees, with zoom lenses, no doubt. Tilting the notebook close to his chest, he finished writing and closed it before handing it back. With a wink so quick she wasn’t quite sure it had even happened, he turned and walked down the sidewalk. She watched him go, a slow smile lifting her lips as he stepped through puddle after puddle, seemingly unaware that his shoes were getting soaked.

  Chapter Two

  THE SIDEWALK WAS a wet concrete ribbon winding through Central Park and Dex hyper-focused on it—he kind of had to since he was experiencing tunnel vision. Forcing himself to walk slowly, he shoved his tingling fingers into his suit coat pockets and blinked a couple of times. He’d met Virginia Fulton—and he’d winked at her? Ouch. But worse—before he’d winked, he’d said all kinds of crazy shit. Brilliant.

  Dex groaned aloud and kicked a rock out of his path. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t met celebrities before. After all, there were quite a few A-list movie stars who frequented Cameron’s on Fifth Avenue, and he’d stood mere feet from Hollywood royalty who were draped in Cameron’s signature sapphires. He’d been able to keep his head during those occasions and even make some semblance of witty conversation.

  So why was he so starstruck by Virginia? She wasn’t an Oscar winner. She’d only been famous since her father had announced his run for the presidency, and Patrick Fulton had only been in office for a little over a year. During that time, Virginia had moved to New York and promptly become the “it” girl for fashion trends and, unfortunately, also the “it” girl for the clubbing crowd. She was a loose cannon. Naïve about her celebrity and—despite her education—kind of vapid. Or so he’d assumed—until he met her.

  “She had me pegged within two seconds, and I thought she was going to be dumb,” he muttered to himself. “Damn, I’m the dumb one for assuming she’s dumb.”

  But the second he’d laid eyes on her, her gorgeous smile had yanked the breath right out of his body, and he’d gone from his usual reserved and careful self to some weirdo wheeler-dealer in five seconds flat. It was hard not to stare at her full lips or the soft wispy ends of her hair blowing across her high cheekbones. To cover his nervousness, he’d talked—a lot—and right now he couldn’t remember half of what he’d said, aside from accidentally propositioning her, offering her a business partnership, and then following all of that horror up by asking her out on a date. Who was he?

  He scratched his head. “No matter what she thinks, I’m not a pervert. But how was I supposed to exercise good judgment right after I’d been crotch-frisked?”

  There was a strangled “Oh!” from nearby, and Dex jerked his gaze from the sidewalk to offer a pained smile at a lady who gave him a wide berth as she hurried by with a wire push-cart.

  Sighing, he trudged on, exiting Central Park onto Fifth Avenue, walking down to Sixty-Third Street, and, as he got lost in the crowds on their way to the zoo, the initial shock of meeting Virginia in person began to wear off a bit. The “real” her had certainly surprised him, though—that sexy, slightly raspy voice, the way her full lips had quirked up ever so slightly in a disbelieving smile—even sexier—and the intelligent, determined glint in her brown eyes. That glint had been what struck him the most—and he’d known right then that he couldn’t let her walk away completely. That glint was why he’d made her an offer, wasn’t it?

  Well, whatever it was, Dex was going to do something about cementing it—right now—and he blew out a breath as he walked toward Park Avenue. It was finally time to force his hand with Dexter Barton Cameron I. The legendary old man was known as DB to his friends, not that he had many. But to Dex, he was Granddad.

  The man was ninety years old and held onto the reigns of Cameron Enterprises with a death grip. Dex winced—okay, death grip was a grim way to put it—but it wasn’t that far from the truth. Granddad was wrongly convinced that Dex would be a weak leader, just like Dex’s father had proven to be. Dear old Dad had a silver spoon permanently shoved into his mouth; he was lazy, selfish, and divorced several times over. He’d never been CEO material and hadn’t lasted in the job more than five years. Granddad still ran things—or he would until Dex proved himself worthy to take over. Dex needed to make that happen before his younger sister, Ariel, clawed her way into the job. She was ruthless, which Granddad liked, but she was also reckless. Dex was cautious, which Granddad didn’t like, and it was the reason the old man had been holding back, waiting for one of them to dazzle him. He’d been dangling a carrot for almost a month, driving both Dex and Ariel crazy.

  A month ago, in mid-February, Granddad had announced that one of them would get the opportunity to open Cameron’s first international location in London. Whoever got the job—which involved the building, the grand opening, and the successful management of the property—would become the new CEO. But before either of those things could happen, one of them had to make a bold move. Prove readiness for the next step up in the corporation.

  Ariel had tried to do that two weeks ago by going to an auction and buying up what she thought was an incredible lot of diamonds for an even more incredible price. Except that they’d been fake. She’d covered her ass, but she didn’t know that Dex had found out about it. She’d probably try something equally crazy soon, and Dex could either let her implode or he could make his own bold move. He preferred the latter.

  Dex reached the street corner and paused. In front of him stood the building that contained the penthouse apartment that had been in his family for the past seventy years, and he’d been on his way inside when the Secret Service had discreetly approached him and asked if he had a moment to meet with Virginia. He hadn’t had a moment, but he’d been too intrigued to decline. Now he was late for his weekly meeting with his grandfather, but it was worth it. He’d met Virginia and realized that she was the ticket to his future—which was so much better than walking into this building thirty minutes ago with his stomach in a knot because he had no new plans to present. Dex would have been one week closer to losing to Ariel.

  Every week his grandfather demanded that Dex report in, and, inevitably, the old man said the same thing: If you want to be CEO, you need to prove yourself. But so far, all of Dex’s attempts to do just that had been met with indifference.

  Today was going to be different, that was for damn sure. For weeks, Dex had been working on an idea to pull Lilah’s into the twenty-first century—give it a fresh new image, make it profitable, and bring back its status as a shopping landmark—but he hadn’t presented the idea to his grandfather because he knew that he wouldn’t be able to pull it off without something, or someone, very compelling to blast the dinosaur of a department store into the news. Meeting Virginia Fulton was like finding the last piece of a puzzle. As long as she clicked into place, he would be golden. He ought to wait until she said yes, obviously, but he was desperate to make a move.

  Desperate. That about summed him up because even if he got to go to London, it would be years before he actually got to take over as CEO, since Granddad didn’t want a CEO under the age of thirty-five. Ariel would have to wait even longer, but both of them were willing to wait. Why? Dex was pretty sure Ariel’s focus was only on winning, but he was thinking of his future. His family name. His reputation. He knew that Granddad wanted to keep control of the company until the day he croaked and beyond, but the day Dex turned thirty-five, he meant to have Cameron Enterprises and run it his way—family-friendly, progressive, and open to fresh ideas. As he paused in front of the ornate façade of the apartment building, he took a deep breath to psych himself up.

  Nodding at the doorman, Dex walked into the marble lobby and, after stopping at the concierge desk to announce himself, rode up to the penthouse floor. The shiny brass elevator wall reflected his tense face, a
nd he tried to give himself an encouraging smile. He looked like a ghoul, so he faced forward, staring at the doors until Virginia’s beautiful face popped into his head. She wouldn’t be nervous, would she? She’d just barrel in and lay it on the line, like she had earlier. He could do that too.

  Granddad would agree to the plan for Lilah’s because the man had a huge ego about his legacy. Plus, once upon a time, that store had been his dream—it was the foundation of Cameron’s, and it was named after Dex’s grandmother, the irrepressible Lilah Cameron. She’d been dead for ten years, but her personality—her essence—had been so huge that some days Dex had to remind himself that his grandmother was actually gone.

  As the doors dinged open, he jerked forward like a wind-up toy, his footfalls echoing across the travertine floor in the entryway.

  “Hello,” he called out.

  Judy, the housekeeper, peeked out of an archway, her half glasses resting low on her nose. “Morning, Dex. It’s nice to see you, honey. You’re kind of late, aren’t you?” Her voice held a commiserative thread of warning.

  Dex kissed her on the cheek and offered a pained smile. Common sense told him that he should have called when he knew he would be late—and more than that, brought an actual proposal on paper—but if he’d done those things, he’d have had to stand there for fifteen minutes in silence while Granddad flipped pages and shook his head. By the time that was over, Dex would have been a wreck. It was better this way.

  From a parlor to the right, DB cleared his throat. “Judy! Quit your incessant gossiping and show him in here. I haven’t got all damn day.”

  At the gravelly bark of his grandfather’s voice, Dex’s heart went into warp speed, and he rubbed his chest with the flat of his hand. “Morning, Judy.” He glanced past her sympathetic expression and sauntered into the parlor. Usually he stopped a few feet from his grandfather’s wing chair, like a subject bowing before a king, his feet rooted in the thick Persian rug. Today was different. Today he’d met a daughter of the president of the United States and had most-of-the-way convinced her to enter a business partnership. He could handle this.