Various States of Undress: Virginia (20 page)

“You know damn well what. Don't read those comments. You always do that, and afterward you always say that it's like staring at roadkill. You can't help yourself, and after you've looked at the carnage, you can't unsee it.”

Virginia managed a laugh, though frustration and disappointment were starting to take hold. Any minute now, she'd either burst into tears or curl up in a corner. Maybe both. “You know me well.”

“I've got your back. Oh, and by the way, I've still got your Balenciaga bag, and possession is nine-tenths of . . . something or other.” She paused. “Anyway, I'll let you know when I have more details about Flash.”

“Not sure what I'd do without you, Stace.” Tears began to well up in Virginia's eyes, and she sat up straight, trying to keep her composure. “Um, I have a meeting with Dex in a minute, so . . .”

“Mm-hm. I'll bet you do.” Stacey snickered. “Bye.” She hung up, and, after only a split-second hesitation, Virginia opened the browser on her phone. If she didn't look, she'd only torture herself with the what-if's. Swiping angrily at her eyes, she found the
Times
website and began reading.

D
EX SPIED
DB standing on the other side of the lobby in the middle of the new display, glaring up at the sexy mannequin's frozen playful expression. After a moment, DB shook his head, and Dex could have sworn that the old man look bemused. But then he turned around and poked a finger in the air, his frown in full force. “What the hell is going on here? A hooker convention?”

“Hello.” Dex walked across the lobby. ‘Let's go outside.” He took his grandfather's arm and led him through the front doors. When they were on the sidewalk, he glanced at the windows. “What do you really think?”

“Don't be flip with me. I want to know exactly what you're doing to my store.” DB folded his arms and turned his glare on Dex. “This is what's-her-name's idea, isn't it?”

“You know Virginia's name. A person would have to be dead not to know her name.”

“I'm far from dead, and you're not going to let the president's daughter turn this place into a slutty sideshow.”

Dex folded his arms too and prepared to stare the man down. It didn't last long, though, because he had to say something that needed to be heard. “These clothes are far from slutty. They're flirty, I'll grant that much, but they're also fun and expressive. They're fashionable. Virginia's doing a great job, and you know who would have gotten a kick out of her work? Grandmother.”

The old man's eyes narrowed a fraction more. “Don't bring her into this.”

“How can I not?” Dex unfolded his arms to point at the three-feet-high scrolling letters above the front doors. “Her name is right there. She loved fashion, and I think if she were alive, she'd be horrified to know that her store had become so frumpy.”

“You're ruthless.”

“Thank you. That means a lot coming from you, actually.”

“I have no opinion about that.” DB's lips peeled back in a cold smile. “Get rid of these clothes.”

“No. We need to see if they sell, and I have complete confidence that they will, so I'd appreciate it if you'd go back to what you guaranteed to begin with: no meddling. I know you pride yourself on keeping your promises. And as for Virginia, yes, she's had some bad press, but whatever's been reported or rumored about her pales in comparison to some of the news other celebrities have generated.” He raised an eyebrow. “Some of those celebrities have been featured in Cameron's ad campaigns. I think you're just pissed off because this isn't about cold, hard diamonds. It's about Lilah's.”

DB's smile dropped away and he stared at Dex. Then he glanced over his thin shoulder and let out a growl. Dex followed his gaze and saw Ruston, Doris, and three other clerks standing inside the front doors, craning their necks. When they realized that DB had spotted them, they froze like deer caught in headlights. After a second's hesitation, they scattered. “No respect,” DB muttered.

“They have respect, but they have a lot more fear.” Dex unfolded his arms. “I have respect too, and when I'm finished with Lilah's, you'll see that it will honor Grandmother's legacy.” He waited as DB's gaze swept slowly across the window display. Dex expected the man to work up more anger to spew out, but he didn't. He just stared and then squinted up at the sign over the front doors, and an unexpected look of longing crossed his lined face. He took a deep breath and pursed his lips. His jaw began to tremble slightly.

Shocked, Dex reached out to touch his shoulder. “I know it's hard.”

“You don't know,” DB ground out. He shrugged away. “You want London, don't you? And you want the girl too. Well, I've got news for you—she isn't working here after the grand reopening. I'll admit, what she's set up here does give the store a fresh look, but I don't have the time to police her, not if you're overseas. So get your head on straight. If all goes well, I'll have you on a plane to London right after the store launch.”

He stared at Dex, waiting for a response. Waiting for gratitude. Dex stared right back. Finally, DB let out a disgusted huff. “Keep in mind, you screw up Lilah's and you're finished.” Without another glance in Dex's direction, he walked across the sidewalk and climbed into the back of a limousine.

When the car pulled away from the curb, Dex let out a long breath and shoved his shaking hands into his pockets. He stood there on the sidewalk for a moment, his thoughts churning, his resentment ratcheting up. It was just like the old man to find a way to put Dex exactly where he wanted him. As long as Lilah's was a success, Dex
would
be going to London, but once Lilah's renovation was finished, Dex's control over the store would be snatched away—and only because Granddad didn't want Dex to be distracted by Virginia. It was complete shit. Dex owed so much to her, and it was time to lay everything out. Tell her everything about his grandfather, London, Ariel—he needed to make her understand what he was doing and, more important, why. His future with her depended on it. A sense of desperation gave Dex courage, and as he made his way to the dressing rooms, he was ready to tell Virginia everything—and then gather her into his arms.

“Virginia?” He knocked on the stall door and was answered by a choked-sounding hiccough. Oh no. Had she overheard his grandfather's comment about a hooker convention? “Sweetheart?”

“Give me a minute,” she said, her voice laced with tears. “I don't let anyone see me cry.” She attempted a laugh, but it ended with a sniffle.

“I would love to see you cry.” He paused, his concern growing. “I mean, no, I wouldn't. I just . . . damn.” Dex tried the door, but it was locked. “Let me in.”

“No. I'm fine.”

“You are not. Don't think I won't crawl under the gap on my belly. You need me and I want to help.” He waited, and after a few seconds, the lock slid back and she opened the door. Dex stepped forward and gathered her into his arms. Two seconds later her arms were wrapped tight around his middle as her shoulder shook in silent sobs.

He kissed the top of her head and held her close for a long moment. Finally he raised her face from his shoulder and kissed her wet cheeks. He didn't want to ask, but he had to know what she'd heard. “What's wrong? Did you . . . get some news or . . . ?”

“Nothing earth-shattering. Nobody died.” She lifted a shoulder. “What did your grandfather want?”

“He was only stopping by for a moment,” Dex said. He wasn't going to say anything else about Granddad—not now. “Tell me what happened.”

“I'm just tired.”

He shook his head. “Not buying it. What's wrong?” He looked at her until she let out a long sigh and began to talk.

“The media got hold of the news that I dissolved Owlton. It was just a little blurb of a story—just the facts—but there were some snarky comments from people who'd read it.” She slid out of his arms, took her phone from a padded bench in the dressing room stall, and clicked it on. “I've read much, much meaner comments in the past, but something about these got to me. I guess I've had it up to here with people who don't even know me saying that I enjoy sabotaging myself.”

“What? That's irrational. And not true.”

“I know that, and I rarely read comments because of it, but this time . . . I guess I just wanted to see if opinion about me had started to change.” She scrolled the screen of her phone and read aloud. “‘Don't feed the Fulton beast. People who love attention that much will do anything to get it, especially that skinny bitch.'” Virginia looked up. “‘Skinny' and ‘bitch' I've heard before, but beast? That's a new one.”

“You're not a beast.” Dex took her phone and threw it back onto the bench. “And you're not a bitch.” He put his arms back around her and caressed her hips. “Not skinny, either.”

She tilted her head to the side and considered him. “What was that last one?”

“Uh . . . you're not skinny . . . in places where I enjoy the fact that you're curvy. Especially in this outfit.” He smiled at her winningly and ran his hands up to cup the sides of her breasts, and after a moment she laughed. “Okay. I'll let you off the hook with that one,” she allowed.

“Whew. Thanks.” Reluctantly, he dropped his hands away from the soft warmth of her breasts. “Are you ready to go see what happens on the sales floor?”

“I'd love to, but I'm not going to.”

“Virginia, I seriously doubt that the type of girls who are interested in shopping your test collection are also interested in skewering you about a real estate deal.”

“Oh, I know that.” She picked up her phone and wedged it into the pocket of her white shorts. “But what I don't know is how well that collection will sell on its own. I need to find out what will happen if I'm not here for people to gawk at. I'd really rather that Ruston keep track of the numbers today.”

Dex nodded. It was a wise move, actually, for her to disappear. “Are you going to sneak up to your office?”

“Yeah, to get my purse. And then I'm going home. I was here yesterday from nine in the morning until a little after midnight.” She smiled at him. “I'm ducking out early on a Friday, boss. Are you going to try to stop me?”

“Not a chance in hell. I was going to ask, though, if I could join you.”

She looked at him in disbelief. “What? You've played hooky for three days!”

“I've been working my ass off on advertising and I can prove it.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I'd be happy to take you home, give you a little massage, make you some brunch, and show you the graphics for the print ad campaign.”

“Massage?” she asked.

“Mmm.”

Virginia grabbed his hand and hauled him out of the dressing room, crashed through the lingerie racks, and skidded to a halt in the lobby. “Hey, Silent. I need to leave in a few minutes.”

Charlie, who was positioned near the door, snapped his gaze away from the young women who were already crowding around the halter tops. “Of course.” He gave Dex a lopsided grin. “Hey, man. You have a little something on your sleeve.”

Dex looked down at his arms and found a big floppy bra snagged on the shoulder of his linen blazer, dangling by its hooks. “Oh.” He reached for it, but not before Virginia began to giggle. “Oh, keep it. It suits you,” she said.

“All right.” He leaned close to whisper in her ear. “Maybe you'd want to try it on for me later?” When she recoiled with a look of horror, he snickered and plucked at the bra. “Oh, come on. You know you want to.”

Virginia slapped his hand away and, with a twist of her fingers, unhooked the bra and held it up. “Good God. This thing would wrap around me twice. Mount Rushmore would fit in here,” she whispered.

Dex couldn't stop himself from letting out a loud snort, but when he heard an exasperated sigh nearby, he glanced over to see Ruston standing like a little brown-suited soldier next to a pillar. Ruston raised his eyebrows and held out a hand, which only made Dex laugh again, but he grabbed the bra and walked over. “Uh, this seems to have been misplaced.”

Ruston snatched it away and began to fold the cups together. “Yes. Thank you.”

Behind him, Dex heard Virginia start to laugh, and he clapped a hand on Ruston's shoulder. “Today's a big day. It eases my mind to know that sales are in your capable hands.”

Ruston, who looked as if he were one breath away from a torrent of complaints, closed his mouth. When he opened it again, he sounded slightly mollified. “Of course. But if you and Miss Fulton are here—”

“We won't be. You're in charge, and I'm counting on you to keep accurate track of sales numbers and then report them to me over the weekend.”

Ruston's chin rose. “Of course,” he repeated. “But if your grandfather should—”

“He won't be back—I'm almost sure of it. But if he does come back, call me.”

Ruston nodded and then glanced over Dex's shoulder. Dex looked too. Virginia stood near the door, waving at Ruston, and then she clasped her hands together and mouthed, “Thank you.” When Dex turned back around, Ruston wore an unexpected smile. “I hope you and Miss Fulton have a pleasant day.”

“Thanks.” Dex grinned. He knew that as soon as he was inside Virginia's apartment, his day would become a lot more than just pleasant, but he wasn't about to tell Ruston that.

Chapter Eleven

“T
HERE'S NO WAY
in hell I'm wearing that for the photo shoot,” Virginia said with a groan. She rolled onto her back and reached for a pillow. When she threw it, it hit Dex square in his solid abdomen—his solid, touchable abdomen. “Get serious.”

“It's Saturday night. You need to live a little,” Dex said. He pointed to a picture of a tiny bikini in a catalog, one of many catalogs and brochures spread across her bed. “Please. For me?”