“I accept your offer, contingent upon taking a look at Lilah’s. If I feel like I can do the job, I’ll be your consultant.” She paused again. “I feel positive about the opportunity, though.”
He went very still for a moment, his eyes riveted on her, and then everything about him relaxed. “I choose to take that as a compliment as well. A very high one. Thank you.”
Pleasure rushed through her, and she relaxed too. “You’re welcome.” It was the right decision. As far as Owlton was concerned, she needed to take some time and form a plan anyway. She couldn’t rush in, and if she really was turning over a new leaf, she needed to wait until the paparazzi quit trailing her constantly. With any luck, once she quit going to the clubs, they would lose some interest. It was the wise thing to do. She wasn’t avoiding dealing with Owlton. She was being wise. “I’ll stop by Lilah’s on Monday morning, if you don’t mind.”
“Not a bit.”
She grinned. “Hey. You want to go tell your sister that I’m probably going to work for you and see what she does?”
“God, no.” Dex’s eyes widened. “That is, she’s already on edge.”
“Aww, come on.” She put her hands on his arms.
Dex shook his head quickly and leaned close to whisper. “Let’s leave Ariel out of this, okay? Right now we’re being stared at like we both have two heads. Let’s just go before anyone—”
A couple of feet away, flashes of light bounced off the windows and Dex turned to look. Three or four people with cameras stood on the sidewalk outside, and when Virginia smiled automatically, the flashes increased.
“Too late, Dex. We’ll be in the New York Post tomorrow morning.”
Dex paused for a moment and then took a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll wrap my head around that later, but for now, why don’t we get out of the line of fire.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t phrase it quite that way around my agents,” Virginia teased and was rewarded with Dex’s deep chuckle before he guided her away from the windows. She glanced around, spotted Silent, and signaled to him that it was time to go.
A few minutes later Virginia settled next to Dex in the SUV, which pulled away from the curb and headed toward the Upper West Side. It was fully dark outside now, and though Dex’s face and the front of his shirt were intermittently lit by the street lights, the rest of his large frame was shrouded in shadows. She wasn’t any less aware of him, though. In fact, the warmth of his body was magnetic. Before her brain registered that it probably wasn’t a great idea, she turned until her knees nestled against his leg.
“Did you have a good—”
“Was it a fun evening?” he asked at the same time.
When she laughed, his lips curved up into a smile. “Yes,” she answered. It was the truth too—despite her nerves, she’d had a great time. Dex was fun. And so sexy.
“I enjoyed it too,” he said quietly, his gaze searching her face. “So, back to my place?” The minute the words left his mouth, he cringed. “I mean—not that. You know . . .”
“Yes, I know what you meant. We’ll drop you off,” she said, laughing again. She patted his leg, but before she could remove her hand, his fingers brushed the top of it and he lifted it to his lips. He placed a soft kiss on the back of her hand, sending tingles down her arm.
“Thanks for coming with me, Virginia,” he murmured, looking at her.
Her breath hitched. “You’re welcome. I want . . .” She trailed off, knowing that she couldn’t say what she was thinking—that she didn’t want the evening to end but that it had to. First dates with Secret Service agents along for the ride could get awkward, fast. She didn’t want this to end awkwardly.
“You want . . . ?” Dex prompted.
“I want to thank you too.” She put her hand on his shoulder and leaned up to kiss his cheek, her heart beating fast. And then, impulsively, she gave him a peck on the lips. She shouldn’t have, but she had to know what they felt like—wondering about those lips had been driving her crazy. They were firm and supple, and the peck lasted a bit too long. As she settled back into her seat and stared straight ahead, her heart sped up. It had just been a friendly thank-you kiss, right? Surely he wouldn’t think it was a big deal.
Next to her, Dex shifted and cleared his throat, so she glanced over just as light from a neon sign washed through the windows, bathing him in a warm glow. He stared at her, his eyes full of intensity, and those lips—those amazing lips—dropped open slightly. She jerked her gaze away and looked out the window. Okay, it had been more than a friendly thank-you kiss, hadn’t it? Oh, God.
They sat in silence for a few more minutes, and when the SUV pulled over in front of Dex’s building, she turned to him with a smile. “So . . .”
He smiled back. “I’ll be counting the hours until Monday morning,” he said in a low tone. “Good night, Virginia.”
“Good night, Dex.”
He got out and walked away, a bemused smile on his handsome face.
Chapter Four
WHEN VIRGINIA WOKE up on Sunday morning, it was to the terrifying greenish-yellow eyes of a cat—a cat planted firmly on her chest, its huge paws splayed on either side of her neck. “Don’t hurt me,” she whispered, slowly moving her hands to brace herself on the mattress. “Good kitty. Good boy, Junior Mint. Now go ahead and jump off, okay?”
Junior Mint yawned and his awful breath made her head snap back. “That’s it,” she muttered, turning her face. “Off.” She sat up and whooshed out a breath as the mighty weight lifted from her chest and the cat tumbled to the side. He half rolled, half jumped onto the hardwood floor, letting out a grunt before sauntering toward the doorway.
“Why won’t you sleep in your own bed? I bought you a nice bed,” she said. Junior Mint completely ignored her and left the room. After a moment, Virginia heard the tell-tale crunching noise of the behemoth animal eating from his dry food bowl in the kitchen. “Asshole cat.” He wasn’t, though, not really. He just missed Sam. Virginia sighed, got out of bed, and pushed open her bedroom curtains to wake herself up. Bright sunlight streamed in, and for the first time in a long time on a Sunday morning, she didn’t whimper because of a hangover. Instead, she took a moment to enjoy the view of the Chrysler Building and think about last night and what it meant—or didn’t mean, as the case might turn out to be. But the more she thought about Dex Cameron, the more intrigued she became.
After her agents had dropped him off, she’d felt the lack of his presence a lot more than she wanted to admit. The lingering memory of his lips underneath hers had filled her with longing, and by the time they’d made it back to her building at Tudor City in East Midtown, she’d been unsettled, not wanting to be alone. But then, she rarely wanted to be alone, even if she lived alone. So she’d called Stacey, who’d left whatever bar she’d been hanging out in and bounced over to drink most of a bottle of wine by herself and then pass out in the extra bedroom. Virginia half wished that her friend wasn’t here because she still felt unsettled.
Everything that was bothering her came back to Dex. There was no doubt that he would introduce her to potential clients, but she knew deep down that the moment he did, she would be miserable. She didn’t know enough about real estate. Her gut, which ached, told her the painful truth: she probably wasn’t going to be able to make Owlton a success—and she didn’t want to. She wasn’t interested. And it hadn’t been fair of Sam to leave her the company, especially since it was mostly dead. Was she really obligated? Or did she think she had to try just because people expected that she wouldn’t?
Turning away from the window, Virginia flopped back down on the bed and stared across the room at the only other pieces of furniture in the cramped area—her desk and chair. Her virtual shopping command center. She loved the comfy old leather chair, which had been her dad’s when he’d been governor of Wyoming. The second-hand desk was too big for the room, but she’d never get rid of it—it was vintage, solid wood, and full of nooks and crannies. Most of them were stuffed with catalogs,
but one day she planned to organize it. Maybe today. Or . . . maybe she would just go online and check the headlines first. And then do some virtual shoe shopping. She nodded, already feeling better.
After running into the bathroom, she sank cross-legged into the chair and opened her laptop, deciding to Google herself. She fully expected there to be some new hits today, and she wasn’t disappointed. Sure enough, the Post had thrown up a photo of her and Dex in the park, sitting next to each other. Another photo showed them at last night’s benefit, leaning in to each other. They were backlit by the party and their faces were only in profile, but it looked as if they were about to kiss. She stared at it in fascination; then her gaze flicked to the caption: “Virginia Fulton steps out at the Children’s Art Initiative Gala with Dexter Cameron III. First Daughter’s new beau?”
No. He was her new boss—probably—and a complete one-eighty from her old boss. With a sigh, she glanced at the thick manila envelope sitting on the corner of the desk. It was Sam’s will. She rested her forehead in her palm and stared at it. Okay, there was no way she could enjoy virtual shopping until she dealt with the rest of her life, but the one person who would completely understand what she was even contemplating—which was dumping Owlton altogether—was Carolina, who was probably still asleep. It was ten in the morning in New York, so that meant nine Central, eight Mountain . . . was Arizona in Mountain time or Pacific? Either way, it wasn’t obscenely early, was it? Screw it. She needed her sister.
Grabbing her phone, she texted her. Hey. So sorry if I wake u, but can u talk?
Ten seconds later, Carolina texted back. If you’re up at this hour, something’s wrong. Gimme ten mins.
Virginia tiptoed into the living room to close the door to the extra bedroom, where Stacey lay sprawled on the bed, snoring. Stacey was great company, but she tended to be overly enthusiastic about everything, including sleeping. After making coffee, Virginia grabbed a cup and closed her own bedroom door to settle in for a Skype session. When Carolina’s worried face appeared on the screen, Virginia bit back a sigh and waved at her petite, younger sister.
“Hey, Care Bear. Where’s Jake?”
“Still asleep. You know I hate being called—”
Virginia laughed. “I know. Like my Secret Service code name is any better.”
“What’s wrong with Candy Cane?” Carolina grinned. “It’s fun and playful.”
“Describes me to a T, all right,” Virginia said in a dry tone. “So how is your husband?”
“He’s great.” Carolina’s lips curved into a secretive smile.
“Mm-hm. I’ll bet he is. In more ways than one.”
“Okay, Virginia. Quit stalling. Are you awake enough to tell me what’s wrong?”
Virginia bought time by taking a few sips of her coffee. There was no easy way to say it, though, was there? So she rolled her eyes and let out a breath. “Okay. You know that my boss died recently, right?”
Carolina nodded, the frown back in place. “Yeah. I’m so sorry.”
“Me too. I really didn’t know him that well, but he led a long, full life. He was a nice person.” She paused. “Too nice.”
“What do you mean?”
“He left me everything. His apartment—which I haven’t even gone to see yet. His cat—which I’ve already seen way too much of. And his business—which I have no clue how to run and am thinking about dissolving.” She finished with a grimace on her face. “So . . . what do you think about all that?”
Carolina whistled. “Uh, I don’t know. What would make you happy?”
“What would make me happy?” Virginia let out a bitter laugh. “Not to have inherited any of it.”
“And if you hadn’t, what would you be doing?” Carolina raised her eyebrows. “Take a minute to think about it, but don’t you dare call me a bitch.”
Virginia didn’t need a minute. She knew exactly what she’d be doing—partying like it was her job, avoiding everything that didn’t have to do with having a good time. Carolina knew it too. “I don’t want to be me anymore, Carolina.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you.”
“Yes, there is.”
Carolina sighed heavily. “No, there’s not. You’re an amazing person who has the disadvantage of living in a fish bowl. Figure out what’s going to make you happy, and do it. It’ll probably suck along the way, but believe me, it’s worth it.”
“I was hoping you’d say that. Well, not the part about it sucking. That I could do without.”
“Sorry, sis. All I can tell you is what I know from experience—and don’t try to hide from Mom and Dad.” She wrinkled her nose. “Oh, and give the White House communications office plenty of warning if you do something crazy.”
Virginia smiled. “Something crazy like falling in love with one of my Secret Service agents?”
“Uh, yeah. You’re not—”
“No. But what I’m planning isn’t pretty.” She sighed. “Instead of taking a golden opportunity that was dumped in my lap—an opportunity to have a serious career in real estate—I’m going to scrap the company I inherited from a sweet old man. Then I’m going to work in a department store. Probably.”
Carolina whistled again. “The media ought to love that.”
“No shit. So now what do you think?”
“I think you’ve already spent a lot of time weighing options and the only thing holding you back is your own fear of what people will think of you.”
“Ouch. It’s not just that. I feel guilty about turning my back on Sam. It’s just—it’s so like me to do something like this. I’m pissed at myself.”
“Being pissed at yourself is such a wise use of your time, isn’t it?” Carolina shook her head. “Get over it. And don’t be coward.”
Virginia sucked in an indignant breath. “Bitch!”
“Hey! I told you not to call me—”
The door swung open and Stacey stood there—all skinny, sleepy six feet of her—and she pushed back her long, tumbled blond hair. “Did you just call me a bitch?”
“No. Good morning, though,” Virginia said. “There’s coffee. Go have some.”
“Mmm.” Stacey turned around and stumbled away.
“So,” Carolina said, “I know what I said was harsh, but do you feel better now?”
Virginia nodded, even though she wasn’t sure. “I am excited about the department store. I’ve been offered a position as a fashion consultant. The place is out-of-date and needs a new image.”
Carolina grinned. “Right up your alley. I always had the feeling you’d end up working in fashion. Congratulations. You’ll be great.”
“Thank you. And thanks for talking me off the ledge. Look, I should—”
“Me too.” Carolina looked over her shoulder. “Jake’s awake and he’s making pancakes.”
“Mmm!” Stacey stood in the doorway again. “Ginny, ooh. Idea! Let’s skip the coffee and go have a champagne breakfast.”
Virginia laughed. “Maybe.” She turned back to the laptop. “Love you.”
“Love you too.” Carolina winked and then her face disappeared.
The second Virginia closed the laptop, Stacey plopped on the edge of the bed, her mouth open. “Oh. My. God. You didn’t tell me about a fashion job! What’s going on?”
Virginia kept her expression bland. “I just found out yesterday when . . . an opportunity came up. I’ve been asked to remake that old fossil down on Seventh Avenue. Lilah’s. You heard of it?”
“Vaguely. I think my grandma buys her pantyhose there.” Stacey leaned forward. “Who wants to hire you?”
“Dexter Cameron.” The name hung in the air, and Dex’s teasing smile popped into her head. She coughed.
Stacey looked confused. “Like, the jeweler? Isn’t he a hundred years old or something? Where the hell did you meet him?”
Virginia took the easy way out and changed the subject. “I have an idea. Let’s go stealth shopping at Lilah’s. I want to get inspired because if I take the jo
b, all of your clients at Saks will be crawling over themselves to shop at my store.” She grinned.
“You better not poach my clients,” Stacey warned.
“Like you enjoy being a personal shopper for the geriatric social set? Just last week you said, and I quote, ‘OMG, they are so going to suck my will to live.’”
“I know, but those vampires spend a lot of money, and this girl likes a fat commission.” Stacey flipped her hair back. “So stay away from my old ladies.”
“Who said anything about old ladies? I’m going to make Lilah’s sexy.”
Stacey snorted. “Oookay. Sounds like you’re planning to take that job, if you ask me. But what about your real estate stuff?”
“I can handle it,” Virginia answered a bit too quickly. Stacey didn’t seem to notice, though because she’d already bounced to another thought. “Can I borrow your Balenciaga tote today?”
“What—are you planning to shoplift?”
“From Lilah’s? Give me some credit,” Stacey scoffed. “I’m only going with you to gawk. Besides, we need to talk more about Flash.”
“What’s Flash?”
Stacey let out a suffering sigh. “The Holy Grail? After I came over last night, we talked about it for like, an hour. It’s that night club that your dad probably couldn’t even get into. The hottest spot in the city, remember? We need to form a strategy. Wow, you’re distracted.”
Yes, Virginia was thoroughly distracted because her life was right on the tipping point of a massive change. She managed a laugh. “If my dad wanted to go to Flash, I doubt he’d have a problem. Look, I’ll tell Muscles and Silent we need to leave. Go brush your hair, for God’s sake.”
Stacey stuck out her tongue but left the room. Quickly, Virginia texted her agents and got dressed. She paced, waiting for Stacey to primp, but her eyes kept going back to that envelope on the desk. After a few minutes, she picked it up and pulled out the thick stack of documents. The first sheet contained the letterhead from the attorney handling Sam’s estate, who had said to call anytime, with any question. Virginia nodded. Well, the time was now. She had to get this off her back, so without stopping to talk herself out of it, she picked up her phone and dialed.
Various States of Undress: Virginia Page 5