SOLO (9 page)

"Mr. Hughes?"

I don't need to turn towards the doorway of my office to know that Lance is standing there. He's supposed to be here at eight with a coffee in hand. It's seven. What the fuck is he doing here? I came here to think and now I have to deal with that?

"You're here early, sir. Do you want me to get your coffee now?"

"Right now," I turn around sharply.

"Is something wrong?" He takes a step into my office.

I don't recall offering that invitation. "Get the coffee."

He races out the door almost tripping over his own feet. I'll give him credit for being enthusiastic. Not credit in the form of a raise, mind you.

My desk phone rings and I immediately decide to ignore it. No one knows I'm here and the fact that they're calling this early doesn't impress me one bit. I'm all for making the most of your day, but I'm not sure I'm ready to start mine officially yet. It finally comes to a stop almost the exact moment my cell starts ringing. Persistence is a quality I admire. I recognize the number immediately.

"Margaret," I say her name clearly into the phone. "Good morning."

"Alec." Her voice is calm. It's completely different than the last time we spoke. "I tried calling you at your office."

"It's just past seven here." It's a conversation we've had time and time again. "New York lags a few hours behind London."

"Right." The word is clipped. "I'm calling about opening night."

I knew the call was coming. I've been avoiding it and her. Whenever I've backed a new play it meant seeing Margaret and David. The experience was rarely pleasant, but always painful.

"We want to book our flights before prices go up."

"I'll arrange all of that for you." I always do. There hasn't been one time when Margaret and David have come to New York where I haven't paid for the entire trip. She knows it. She's always sure to remind me of it.

"Are you sure, Alec?"

I hesitate briefly before answering. I'm tempted to just tell her what I'm feeling. They don't need to come back here. I don't need to keep investing in plays. This needs to be over. "I'm positive."

Libby

"Those are for me?"

I know I shouldn't sound so completely shocked, but let's be realistic for a minute. I live with a budding supermodel. Her legs are almost as long as my entire body. Her face is exotic and flawless. Since I've lived with Jade every single flower delivery has been for her. On her birthday, there was literally no room to move. There were dozens of bouquets being delivered all day. Now, today, the day after my so-called-date with Alec Hughes, I'm the one with the flowers. They're beautiful.

"That guy that was in your room last night must have sent them." She points the half peeled banana in her hand at them. "He was hot, Libby. Score."

No, I didn't score. I didn't even round third base. I fell asleep. "You saw him?"

"He was coming out of your room half-dressed." She takes a big bite of the end of the fruit. "I said goodnight to him."

Why do I suddenly have a vision of Jade pulling Alec into her room to give him a goodnight kiss on his dick? "What does that mean?"

She cocks one of her perfectly coiffed dark brows. "What do you think it means?"

My head hurts too much for this. I need to shower before I go to rehearsal. I also need to find my dress. "Have you seen my dress, Jade?"

"You left it on the floor." She nods her head back towards the front door. "If I was with a man like that, I'd strip naked as soon as I could too."

I turn around to go back down the hallway. I can't be late for rehearsal. I need to get my mind back into my job. I didn't work this hard to lose my chance to finally make it on Broadway. Today I turn a new leaf. I need to forget about Alec Hughes and what it felt like to kiss him.

***

"I didn't think it was possible for you to look more beautiful than you did last night." His voice floats over my neck as I'm reaching down to pick up my bag.

I was prepared to face him in a day or two. I can't do it now. I don't even know what I said or did last night. I know I kissed him. I can't forget that but everything after that is a blur. I stay hunched over hoping that someone else in the rehearsal hall will say something that will steal his attention away from me.

"Mr. Hughes," Sharma says his name over my shoulder. "I'm glad you're here. I wanted to talk to you about a few things."

I straighten my back. This is my chance. I can walk out the doors and hop into the elevator while he discusses business with the director. I'll be able to regain some of my misplaced composure and face him when I don't feel so completely hung over and embarrassed.

"Not now." His hand catches my elbow. "I'm busy."

"These issues aren't going to sort themselves out." She's frustrated and growing impatient. I've heard the very same inflections in her voice when the cast hasn't performed a scene exactly the way she's instructed us to.

"Call my office and make an appointment. I'll be happy to talk to you about things there."

Her footsteps storm out of the room with all the measured grace of a herd of wild horses. I can hear others moving around behind us. The almost whispered references to Alec and I are apparent even if they aren't overt.

"Did you get the flowers, Libby?" His lips brush against the back of my neck.

Turning around, I look up into his beautiful face. His brow cocks in anticipation. "I got the flowers, yes. They're really beautiful."

"I'm glad you like them." He leans back, jutting his hands in the pockets of his pants. "How are you feeling today?"

I run my tongue over my top teeth trying to chase away how dry my mouth feels. "I'm okay. I'm sorry I got drunk."

"You weren't drunk." His hand leaps from his pocket to push a hair back that has fallen onto my face. "You didn't eat enough dinner. The wine got the best of you."

He's polite and understanding and incredibly hot. His eyes are so green. I exhale as I pull my gaze from him to the floor. "I fell asleep."

"I put you to bed."

I'm grateful that he whispers the words under his breath. I've already been subjected to the jealous glances of other dancers in the chorus. They know that I'm the girl that Alec Hughes has chosen this season. I'm still not sure I want to be. I trace the nail on my right thumb with my left one. "We need to talk about things."

"We do?"

I nod. "I have to work at the store tonight. I need to go but can we talk soon?"

He reaches for my elbow again. "I’ll have Gabriel drive us. We'll stop at your apartment so you can change. Then we'll take you to the store."

I pull away. I can't do it. I can't talk to him today because I don't know what I'll say yet. "Not today. I'll go myself."

I turn and walk out of the rehearsal hall. By the time I board the elevator, he's still not in sight.

Alec

I'm losing her. I haven't tasted her yet and I'm already about to lose her. I saw it in her eyes. It was there. Regret. I see it when I look in the mirror every fucking morning. I'd recognize it across a football field. She regrets what we did the other night. She regrets climbing onto my lap and kissing me in a way I've never been kissed before. She regrets the whole goddamn thing.

I was tempted to drive to the jewelry store to beg her to give me a chance last night but I don't beg women for anything. If she wants to walk away, I'm not going to drop to my knees and promise her I'll be something I'm not. There's no fucking way that's happening. The chase is fun. I live for the chase, but there's always a point where it's easier to drop it and move on to someone else. Life has taught me that.

"Mr. Hughes, there's someone here to see you." Lance pokes his head around the corner, peering into my office. I need to start shutting the door.

"Who is it?" I bark back. I checked my calendar this morning. I've got nothing on tap today other than the early call I had with our office in Hong Kong. I've spent much of the day trying to wade through a stack of possible acquisitions. Nothing has caught my eye as of yet.

"It's a girl."

"You didn't get a name?" I study him and the grin on his face. What the fuck does Lance have going on in his life that keeps him this happy? I have to find out and whatever it is I need some of that too.

"I can go get one." He shrugs his shoulders. "I mean if you need a name."

"No, of course not," I try to say with as much sarcasm as I can possibly muster. I stand and pull my suit jacket back on. It's not unheard of for business associates to stop by unannounced. Women are an entirely different story. I rarely have a woman seek me out here. They know I draw a clear boundary around my work. Sex and business don't mesh in my world.

"I'll tell her to come in." He whips his head back around the doorjamb before he disappears out of sight.

I glance down at my phone when I see a text message coming in. It's Hunter, asking if I want to meet for a beer tonight. I tap out a short message telling him no. Tonight it's all about getting back in the saddle, which in my case is between the legs of a gorgeous woman.

"Alec. I mean, Mr. Hughes." Her voice stalls. "No, it's Alec. I'm sorry to bother you here but I was hoping we could talk."

That voice. It's breathy. It's soft. It's Libby. Libby Duncan is standing in the doorway of my office.

***

"I came here from rehearsal." She points at her outfit. "I should have gone home to change but I wanted to get this over with."

I want to get her over the arm of the leather couch we're now sitting on. She's wearing a white sweater, a small navy skirt and white kitten heels. I need to stop by rehearsal more often.

"We kissed when I was drunk." Her beautiful mouth thins. "I'm sorry. I mean I kissed you."

I lean back, resting my arm across the back of the couch. "I enjoyed it, Libby."

"Me too," she mutters beneath her breath. "I'm usually not like that."

Liar. I could tell from the way she was kissing me that Libby Duncan isn't a saint. "What are you usually like?"

Her eyes flit across my face before they land on the bank of windows that overlooks Wall Street. "I don't know. Not like that."

"I've heard it said that a person loses all their inhibitions when they're drinking." I tap my hand on my leg. "You wanted me that night."

Her breath stalls. She has to admit it. She can't possibly tell me that she wasn't as wet as she was. I felt it. I almost ripped those fucking panties off her body before I left. I should have. I'd still be carrying them around with me.

"I did want you." Her hand balls into a fist. "I don't want to though."

Now we're making progress. "Why don't you want to?"

"I moved here because I've always wanted to star on Broadway." She tilts her chin towards the windows. "It's really important to me. The musical, I mean. It's so important."

"I know it is."

"You own the play." Her gaze drops to her hands. "If we start this thing between us there's going to be a stigma attached to me."

She's right. I can't argue the point. People are going to know that Libby is the girl I'm fucking for this season. There are already mouths flapping at rehearsals when I show up. "I know your career is important to you." I mean it. I do know it. If it wasn't, she would have fucked me by now.

Her fingers rub the edge of her nose. "I've thought about things a lot."

Shit. Fuck it. This is when she tells me that her body is off limits because of Selfish Fate.

"If I wasn't in the musical, you wouldn't have wanted me." The words are direct and emotionless.

My eyes dart to hers. She's not looking for a response but there's no way in hell I'm going to allow her to carry that around with her. "That's not true."

"You saw me in the elevator that day and you knew I was in the play."

I did. I knew it before I got in the elevator. I saw her on the street and that's when I wanted her.

Her chest moves as she draws in a heavy breath. "Our attraction…" she stops with a small shake of her head. "Your attraction to me is based on the fact that I'm in the musical. I mean that's a big part of it, right?"

"No," I say firmly. "Libby, that's not it at all."

"You picked me because you knew you could offer me something." She pulls on the hem of her skirt. "I mean you thought you could offer me something in exchange for having sex with you."

"No." My voice is firm and controlled. "It's not about that, Libby. I am very attracted to you. Look at you. How could I not be? My desire to fuck you is about that. It's not about being able to offer you something in return."

"The other night when you took me for dinner, we almost fucked."

Christ, hearing that word come out of her mouth is making me hard. Timing is everything and right now mine sucks. I have to adjust myself on the couch just to hide the erection that is straining against my pants.