The Virgin's Night Out (20 page)

“I’m Mara. Mara O’Keily.” The blonde stared at her, waiting.

Rocki lifted a brow. She had the weirdest feeling the name was supposed to mean something, but it wasn’t ringing any bells. “Well, it’s lovely to meet you, Ms. O’Keily. Is there something I can help you with?”

Mara started to frown, but stopped just as suddenly… as though she didn’t want the wrinkles marring her smooth, perfect brow. “I’m opening a shop on High Street.
Divine
.”

Ahhh...bingo
.

Rocki managed, just barely, not to laugh. Her assistant manager had been fielding calls from a Ms. Kelly or Keely. The first few had been polite enough, inquiring about the name of Rocki’s supplier. Then the calls had gotten more snide and condescending.

When they got word of the new store opening—a high-end lingerie store that was going to cater to the modern young woman—the e-mails started. Pushy emails. And Rocki figured things out. Rocki supposed she could have been nice and put a stop to it by taking one of the calls, but she had a perverse streak a mile wide, one her assistant manager shared. And they didn’t care to be bullied.

Now look where it had landed her.

“Well, Ms. O’Keily, it’s nice to meet you. How are things going for the store’s opening?” she asked.

“Lovely.” Mara paused briefly and then added, “I hope the opening doesn’t cause any conflicts.”

Rocki smiled. “Is there a reason it should?”

“Well, the competition and all.” Mara’s smile took on a sharp edge.

Rocki chuckled. “I suspect we’ll have two totally different customer bases, Ms. O’Keily.” The bell over the door rang and she glanced up, smiling as she recognized the customer. “Hi, Grace. I’ll be with you in just a minute.”

Grace waved and wandered over to inspect a new display of chemises. Looking back at Mara, Rocki said, “If there’s nothing else, I need to get back to work.”

“Well, I do have one matter of business.” Mara smiled. “Your supplier. After all, as you say, we have two totally different customer bases. I doubt those who shop at my store would ever find what they need here. Since we’ve got different customer bases, is there any harm is letting me have the name of your supplier?”

“Hmm. Well, you see...” Rocki smirked inwardly. “My supplier is a private individual who hand selects who she works with. If you wish to leave your card, I’ll get the info to her. Beyond that...I’m not handing out her information. She likes her privacy.”

Rocki glanced back at Cole, who’d remained silent through the exchange. Damn. He sure as hell was pretty.

Too bad he was attached to that bitch.

Grace was going to be a beautiful bride. Rocki had to blink back tears as she stepped away to let the woman study the corset she’d wear under her wedding dress. “Sweetie, he’s going to swallow his tongue when he sees you.” Then she grinned. “Well, let’s hope not. We want him using that later.”

Grace laughed. “Rocki, you’re bad.”

“I know. It’s a gift.” She checked the laces. “How does it feel?”

Grace nodded. “Fine.”

“Don’t go crash-dieting between now and then. If you lose a lot of weight, the dress won’t fit, the corset won’t fit, and it’s not good for you anyway.” She smiled at the other woman. “You don’t want to pass out when you walk down the aisle.”

Grace grimaced. “I’m not going to. Mom keeps telling me I should try to lose another twenty pounds. But he fell in love with
me,
not my waistline, right?”

“Good girl.” The last thing Grace needed to do was worry about her weight right now. She wasn’t society’s version of slim, not at a size sixteen, but then again, neither was Rocki. But neither of them was society’s version of unhealthy, either. They knew each other from the YMCA, where they both ran and lifted weights. Rocki did Taekwondo, Grace did yoga, and they were both in better shape physically than they’d been in high school. They might not fit society’s version of perfect, but they sure as hell weren’t couch potatoes, either.

The bell rang out in the shop. “I need to get out there. Want to leave it on and see what you think?”

“I can’t.” Grace sighed. “I need to get to work soon, and I still need to go by the post office.”

Rocki quickly unlaced her and then slipped out into the shop. She had to grit her teeth when she saw Mara there, chatting up three other women. Lacey, Rocki’s best friend, was one of them. It had been a week since Mara had first shown up in the store, but she wasn’t done trying to get the information she’d come looking for, it seemed.

“You should check out
Divine
,” Mara said, smiling at the women. “It’s a more specialized shop, catering to the modern young woman, and you’ll find everything you need.”

Lacey stroked a finger down a silk brocade corset and laughed. “Everything? Do you have corsets by Lush? I’m rather fond of her stuff.”

Rocki grimaced.
Damn it, Lacey, keep quiet
.

“I’m working on that as we speak.”

“Are you? Hmm. Well, there’s a benefit here every year. Lush always makes an appearance.”

Oh,
shit
. Rocki strode into the shop, glaring at Lacey. Lacey gave her an innocent smile, batting her lashes. “Heya, Rock. You got my stuff ready?”

“You bet.” Then she looked at one of the other woman. “Hi, Bella.”

“Hi, Rocki. This is my friend, Lindsey. She just got engaged.”

“Congratulations.” Rocki smiled at her.

“Thank you.” Lindsey glanced at Bella and then back at Rocki. “I saw the corset that had been designed for Bella’s wedding. I think I’d like one similar to that. I just came by to talk about setting up an appointment?”

“No need for one.” Rocki gestured to the sitting area near the corner. “We’ll have a seat over there.” As Lindsey started over, Rocki looked back at Mara. “Was there something else you needed, Ms. O’Keily?”

“No...nothing at all.” She gave Rocki a sharp-edged smile and then swept out of the shop. Rocki noticed that she was alone and wondered where Mr. Gorgeous was. But she quickly pushed the idea out of her head. She needed to get to work.

Three days later, buried under an avalanche of paperwork, Rocki grimaced as she checked the cost of the upcoming masquerade party she’d be hosting for Valentine’s Day. It was a yearly event for her and had been since the second anniversary of her husband’s death.

Absently, she stroked her thumb along the curve of her wedding ring. She didn’t always wear it, but today, she’d felt the need to. Actually, it wasn’t
today
. It was how close it was to the anniversary of his death. Five years now. He’d been gone for five years.

A knot lodged in her heart and she rubbed her left hand over her chest. The ache wasn’t as bad now as it had been. She wasn’t living her life in mourning over him. She just hadn’t found anybody who’d ever made her heart stop the way he had.

Tears pricked her eyes and she threw the pen down, pressing her fingers to her eyes. She needed to quit thinking about it or she wasn’t going to get this shit finished tonight. And she
needed
to get it done. The benefit was next week. It was the way she kept her mind occupied this time of year. So she didn’t have to think about him lying in that hospital bed... It shouldn’t have happened.

A sob caught in her throat. Brant had been a cop, a detective working what should have been a rather mundane burglary case. But when he’d knocked on the door to a suspect’s apartment one night, he’d found more than he’d bargained for. His partner had died on the scene. Brant took a bullet in the spine that severed his spinal cord. He’d fought...so damn strong.

And he’d lingered.

Then, pneumonia settled in, and it was the infection that ultimately killed him. Rocki had been able to say good-bye. It didn’t make it any easier, she didn’t think.

He was still gone. She was still alone. Blowing out a breath, she grabbed a tissue and wiped the tears away, frowning as she saw the smear of mascara. “Smudge-proof, my ass.” She swallowed around the knot in her throat and then closed her eyes. The ache of loneliness lodged inside right now was a living, breathing beast...her constant companion.

Brant wouldn’t want this. She knew that. Hell,
she
didn’t want it. But she couldn’t look at another man without wishing he was more like Brant. And unless she could find somebody she liked enough for who
he
was without comparing him to her deceased husband...well, that was a relationship doomed before it got started.

She couldn’t even think of a guy who came close.

Suddenly, one face danced through her mind. She shoved it aside. Mr. Gorgeous wasn’t even a possibility. Whether he was engaged to an ice-bitch or not, he was still very much taken. She didn’t even want to
dream
about a taken man.

“Especially if he has taste
that
bad,” she muttered, trying to cheer herself.

It didn’t work.

Sighing, she forced herself to focus on the mess on her desk. Everything for the benefit still needed to be checked and gone over so she could get back to her assistant. She needed to go through the mail. The Lush designs needed to be looked at, orders checked.

The joys of being a small business owner...

Nearly two hours later, Rocki had finished the paperwork and focused on the mail. Bills, bills, junk, bills, bills, tax-related crap—oh, joy, more bills. She frowned as she came across a heavy-weight envelope. The blocky handwriting on the front was unfamiliar, but it was addressed to her. Not the business. Her.

Odd. Using her letter opener, she sliced it open and pulled out a card.

The card was blank. But not empty. The photo that spilled out was her, in black and white. An image of her walking to her car one evening. A shiver raced down her spine.

Not again
...

Swallowing, Rocki turned the picture over. And when she saw that it was blank, she breathed all over again. Shit. Oh, shit. For a minute there, she’d been...

But this wasn’t the same. If it had been the same, he would have written something. He would have to let her know it was him. Memories from years earlier tried to rush out at her. But she pushed them back. She wouldn’t let that time overwhelm her. Her fingers tightened, and she almost crumpled the picture. She stopped herself, though. With fingers that shook, she tucked the photo back into the card, and the card back into the envelope.

No, there was nothing on it. Not like before.

But that didn’t mean anything. She wouldn’t call about it yet.

She’d be careful, though. Damn careful.

It could very well be nothing.

However, she knew from experience, it could also be bad, bad news…

“You know, you could just find your own supplier,” Cole pointed out as he watched Mara adjust her costume.

She glared at him in the mirror. “I want
Lush
. Every damn person I’ve talked to has only thing to say: Lush is the best lingerie designer around. So Lush is who I’m going to get. She only does designs for that Rocki bitch and a few others, though, and she doesn’t have a website or any way for me to contact her. So if I want to talk to her, tonight is my best chance.”

Then she looked away from him and focused on her image. Her blonde hair was swept up in some intricate knot, leaving her neck and shoulders bare. The gown she wore was cut so low, it left next to nothing to the imagination. She smiled at him. “How do I look?”

“Beautiful,” he replied honestly. And she did. Mara would be hard-pressed not to.

“Excellent.” She squared her shoulders and reached for her mask. “Do you have your mask?”

He glanced down at the black one he’d picked up to wear with his tuxedo and sighed. “Yeah. You realize you may not even get through the door without an invitation, right?”

“I’ve asked around. All they care about is a donation—a sizeable one. The charity is some police thing—can’t remember what. We’ll make a donation and we’ll get in. Just make sure you have your checkbook. It’s not a concern.”

My checkbook.
Shit. He sighed. “Fine. Whatever.”

“Really, Cole. You should be more excited for me. You know how badly I want this information.” Mara leaned forward and adjusted her mask, studying her face in the mirror. “You know, you
could
see if you couldn’t get some of the information from Rocki yourself.”

Something cold and unpleasant settled in his gut as he stared at her. “What?”

Mara laughed. “I saw how she looked at you. The dumpy bitch probably hasn’t had a good lay in years. No telling what kind of sorry loser she’s married to. She was all but stripping you naked with her eyes. Play up to it.” Slowly, she turned around and leaned back against the dressing table, smiling at him. “What do you say? Could you put that pretty face of yours to use and see what she’ll tell you?”

Cole sauntered up to her, keeping his face blank. He dipped his head, placing his lips right next to Mara’s ear. Slowly, he breathed her scent, waiting as she shivered. Then, in a low voice, he whispered, “Hell, no.”

Unwilling to look at her, he stormed out of their bedroom. Their bedroom...with a bed they shared, yet sometimes it felt like he was sleeping with a stranger. They hadn’t touched each other in more than two weeks, or maybe it was three? Oddly enough, other than waking up with a typical morning hard-on, he didn’t even care.

One thing that did bother him, though, was the fact that lately he’d been wondering if this marriage was really the ideal for them. But now, he was almost certain—it might be okay for Mara, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t right for him.

He’d go to the damn party. More out of a sense of obligation and to make sure Mara didn’t do anything that
he
might regret—he was a silent partner in her business, but he was still a partner. But then he was going to take a few days away. Decide whether this marriage was the right thing, or just the convenient thing. And if it wasn’t right, he was getting out before it was too late.