Stella in Stilettos (2 page)

“See how we mix things up? Subtle. Spicy. Subtle again.” Just wait until they got to page fifty-five. Teddy’s. Garter belts. Peek-a-boo garments. Nothing but spice.

Alex glanced at the screen but continued to watch Stella. Gah. He was making it difficult to keep her mind on the task at hand.

What was his deal anyway? Most guys would be eager to check out scantily clad models instead of giving their undivided attention to a curly-haired frump with glasses. She shifted in her chair.

At last, Alex did more than stare. “How do you determine what goes into the catalogue first?” He leaned forward to pick up a copy of an older catalogue. Stella caught a whiff of peppermint. It made her ease back since everything she exhaled reeked of coffee.

Before she could address his question, Corrine peeked into the cubicle. “How’s it going?”

“Just fine,” Stella replied, keeping her expression even when she wanted to scowl.

Corrine offered a sly grin. “I hate to disturb all this…” she cleared her throat, “…fineness, but Maggie wants to take Alex to lunch.”

Stella swiveled her chair away from the computer. “We can pick this up when you get back.”

Alex shook his head. “Tomorrow morning would work better. I have a meeting with my corporate communications group today at one.”

The way he said
my
corporate communications group sounded as though he was still part of it. Stella and Corrine exchanged a puzzled look.

* * * *

Alex paced back and forth in front of Jett Morgan’s desk. “Spending time in every department is a time-suck. I have things to do here.” Each assignment was temporary, although the folks in those departments were lead to believe the transfer was permanent so they would accept him. At the end of each three-month stint, he gave Marc Thompson, CEO of the lingerie company a report about his experience.

Jett winked at Steve Benson who also seemed amused with Alex’s ranting. “Sorry, buddy. Marc wants you to get a taste of everything from the mail room to the board room.” He drummed his fingers on the desk. “It’s like he’s grooming you for his job.”

Or using me to spy.
Alex frowned deeper than he already was.

Steve Benson offered his two cents. “You’re one lucky S.O.B. Do you know how many people have tried to get Marc’s attention?”

Alex sighed to express his agitation. Actually, if he was honest with himself, it was more restlessness than agitation. He ran his hand over the tight muscles in his neck. He’d been losing interest in the lingerie company for awhile and it didn’t matter if the CEO was paying attention or not. Some days it was a chore to walk through that door.

“Listen, Midas,” Steve said. “Stop griping. Department-hopping will give you a chance to shop, if you get my drift. If I remember correctly, the advertising department has some spectacular honeys.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Work isn’t the place to shop.” In fact, he’d adopted the old saying ‘don’t dip your pen in company ink’ as his creed. It was the only way a guy could keep his head on straight.

Mischief beamed from Steve. “Au contraire, mon ami. Work is exactly where you should be looking. You can get a real feel for a person in their work environment.”

Alex shuttered his eyes. “I have a real feel for the two of you. And what’s with the mon ami stuff? You’re not French.”

Steve’s comments conjured thoughts of Stella. He’d gotten a feel for her right out of the gate – she didn’t particularly care for him and the woman was a klutz.

“Seriously, Trish? An
online
introduction?” Stella hadn’t seen that coming and wanted no part of it. After four nerve-wracking hours of Alex Clay, all she wanted to do was hole up in her apartment with her ratty robe and watch NCIS. Leroy Jethro Gibbs could fix anything, including the mess of her mood. Right now, she was borderline crabby.

Trish latched onto Stella’s forearm. “Don’t even think about leaving. I promised Ramsey you’d meet his cousin.”

“But
online
?” Stella made big eyes at Trish. “What’s wrong with the guy that he doesn’t want to meet face to face? Does he have horns? Four ears? More boobs than me?”

“You’re a riot.” Trish led her to the computer. “Sit.”

Setting beside the computer was a bottle of wine and two glasses. Stella rubbed her dry, tired eyes, no longer worried if her mascara smudged. “Awesome,” she grumbled with a combination of lethargy and sarcasm. “Wine, eyestrain and a wireless mouse.”

“Grow a pair,” Trish heckled with an impish grin. “Create a nickname to get into the chat room. Make it something sexy.”

Stella thinned her eyes with disapproval.

“Do it.”

Logging into a murky den of anonymity wasn’t how she wanted to get back in the dating game. Actually, she didn’t want to get back in the game at all. Trish, however, wouldn’t let up. Stella sighed like her lungs had a slow leak. If it was anyone but her best friend begging her to do this, she would’ve told them to get real and left right away. She stretched her neck from side to side, cracked her fingers at the knuckles and typed
Blonde1
. When the name popped on the screen, she stared at it from every angle. “It sounds like a military code name or a comic book character.”

Trish gave her a playful shove. “Or a stripper.”

Stripper?
Stella widened her eyes and hit the delete-key. The name stayed put.

Trish almost fell off her chair laughing.

“This is so not funny.” But damn, it was. A small giggle started in Stella’s belly and grew into full blown laughter by the time it rolled out.

“Are you relaxed now?” Trish asked.

Stella shook her head no. “A little.” She jabbed Trish with a serious look. “You’d better not breathe a word of this to anyone.”

“Who would I tell? Now stop stalling and go to it.”

Gah. Stella wanted to put Trish in a sleeper hold until she admitted that this was all a joke.

Trish pointed to the computer screen.

“Which one is he? What do you even know about this guy?”

Trish offered a sheepish smile. “The only thing I know for sure is that he’s not here yet. In the meantime, practice chatting.”

“Have you gone insane?” Stella read some of the names. “BigLou, MadDog45, TorontoTim, Cherryflava. Cherryflava? What’s
that
all about? Who
are
these people?”

“Don’t be a cyber-snob, Stella.” Trish held Stella’s chair in place with her foot.

“I’m not.” She wasn’t a snob and wouldn’t judge people for being in a chat room. It just wasn’t her cup of tea.

Trish lowered her lashes with condemnation. “You have no idea what’s going on with these folks. They could be suffering the after-effects of a broken heart too. Give them a chance.” Trish poured two glasses of wine and handed one to Stella. “Look at it like this – no sexy eyes or tight butts to distract you, just personalities.”

Before Stella could balk further, “Hello, Blonde1,” flashed across the screen from TorontoTim.

Trish shrieked with approval.

 Stella grimaced.

Another line of text followed the first. “R u there?”

Stella straight-armed the desk. “I don’t want to do this. I mean, I
really
don’t want to do this.”

Trish rolled her eyes. “Don’t be a wimp.”

Stella finally grinned. “So I’m a little guarded. There’s nothing wrong with self-protection.” Keeping her fences in place helped her keep a solid grasp on things, especially her love life. Well, if she actually had a love-life she’d have a good grip on it.

On the flip side, her professional life was hopping. She loved her job in advertising and how she helped Maggie cope with the stress of being the boss. Where work was concerned, she was confident, in-charge, fearless. But this online thing… She corrected the thought. This dating thing – online, or otherwise – was not where she wanted to be.

“You’re making this difficult.” Trish tried to scoot Stella out of the chair. “If you’re not going to talk to TorontoTim, I’m going to.”

“Forget it. You’re not posing as me.”

Trish grinded her teeth. “This is Jace’s fault. If that bastard hadn’t…”

Stella put her hand up to stop any conversation about her ex-fiancé.

“Seriously Stella, the only way to break your slump is to put yourself out there.”

Stella cleaned the keyboard with the sticky back of a Post-It, while waiting for the rest of the lecture.

“I can’t believe you’re letting some words on a computer screen spook you. You’re a grown woman. Suck it up and give fate a fighting chance.”

Stella had heard this sermon so many times she could repeat it verbatim. Everything Trish said was true. She did protect her heart like Ft. Knox protected the gold and it would take a very determined man to break down her bastion of defenses.

It was also true that Jace triggered her relationship-neurosis by slipping out of her life to
find himself
. Ha. The rodent’s compass of self-discovery led him to a strawberry-blonde with long legs and a trust fund. And the side effect was that she now threw all handsome men – except her dad – into the not-trustworthy-until-they-prove-otherwise category. It was a silly way to cope, but it worked for her.

Without further argument Stella answered TorontoTim. “Hello.”

“Wow. One word,” Trish chirped. “Can you spare it?”

“Heckler,” Stella muttered.

TorontoTim challenged her with a half-dozen questions. “Hey, how r u? First time here? Where from? Married? Kids? What do you look like?”

She laughed without humor. “He’s not eager, is he?”

“See how easy this is?” Trish sashayed to the kitchen.

“Riiiight.” Stella flexed her fingers and began typing. “I’m fine, thank you. Yes, first time chatting. Can you tell?” She intentionally dodged the other questions.

Trish returned with a peeled orange and peeked at the progress. “See. It’s not so bad.”

“It’s not as bad as being stung by a brood of jellyfish.”

“Oh for God’s sake, Stella.”

TorontoTim wanted more. “Where did you say you were from?”

“East of the Mississippi.” Stella snickered at the ridiculous answer.

TorontoTim pressed on. “Age?”

Trish nibbled an orange slice. “Tell him you’re ninety and see what he says.”

“You want me to misbehave right off the bat, don’t you?” Stella typed “Thirty”.

TorontoTim fired back with, “Vintage.”

Stella glared at the screen. “What is he, sixteen?”

“Relax. Not everyone who visits a chat room is in puberty. You have great instincts. Put them to work.”

That was so not true. If she was intuitive she wouldn’t have missed the fact that Jace had been looking elsewhere for entertainment.
Ack.
The rat kept popping into her thoughts. It was as if he knew Trish was forcing her to take her heart out of mothballs. “Don’t try sucking up, Trish.” She took an overlarge sip of wine.

Trish followed suit and gulped her wine like water before shuffling off to the kitchen.

Stella watched the conversations on the computer screen. It amazed her how many discussions took place at one time and how the same people were involved in them all. They talked about everything from Christmas shopping to their sex-lives. When BigLou whined about not getting any action, she mumbled under her breath, “Tell me about it.”

A new user entered the room - Mr. Right.

Trish returned with another bottle of wine. “Oooooo, the man of your dreams finally showed up.”

Stella widened her eyes. “Not.” Yet his name did exactly what it was meant to do – conjure up visions of tall, dark, and handsome. Since this was the Internet…

Trish filled Stella’s wine glass to the top. “I’m not kidding. That’s Ramsey’s cousin. I didn’t tell you his nickname because I thought you’d leave.”

“I probably would have.” Stella skewed a suspicious look at Trish. “What else aren’t you telling me? I’m sure Ramsey didn’t sell you on the idea of hooking me up with his cousin without sharing a few details. So come on. Who is he? What’s he like? What does he do?”

“Those are the questions you need to ask him.”

Stella glared. “If this backfires in any way, you’ll pay.”

Trish made a sound of frustration. “I already am.”

The women in the chat room went crazy calling Mr. Right everything from Hotstuff to Baby Cakes to Sugar Britches. Stella stuck her finger in her mouth and pretended to gag.

Trish’s hazel eyes shimmered with mischief. “Follow their lead.”

“Not my style.” Stella had no idea what her style was, although she was fairly certain it wasn’t foolish puffery.

Questions were fired at the presumed hunk so fast it made her head spin. She scrolled up and down the screen to track the questions and Mr. Right’s replies. “Clever.” He gave them just enough to keep them hooked. Finally, he announced that he was there to meet someone specific.