Various States of Undress: Virginia (7 page)

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 job, 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.

Ten minutes later, she'd made it known to the unsurprised attorney that she wanted to dissolve Owlton, and five minutes after that, she and Stacey were riding down Seventh Avenue toward Sixteenth Street. Stacey was hunched over her phone, madly scrolling, but Virginia peered out the window, her already knotted stomach plummeting as Lilah's came into view. At first glance, it didn't look too bad. The elaborate sandstone building was on the west corner, flanked on one side by a pizza place and on the other by a nail salon. Okay, so the neighbors didn't really compliment high-end shopping. Not a great sign. Then she looked up. The ten or so floors above the store were full of sagging air conditioners, and the large cursive lettering above Lilah's doors was faded. Not a great sign,
literally
.

When the SUV stopped in front and she got an even better look, she almost groaned. The awkwardly posed mannequins in the window displays were smiling ear to ear, as if somehow that would distract passersby from the fact that their ratty wigs were askew and their spring dresses were more suited to a 1980s church picnic than a stroll down Park Avenue. Even the plants flanking the double sets of brass doors looked like they'd given up. Oh, God.

Virginia took a deep breath and turned to Stacey, whose jaw had come unhinged. “You've got to be
shitting
me,” Stacey screeched.

“Oh, come on. It's not that bad.” Virginia didn't even try to sound convincing because, really, it was terrible.

Stacey shook her head. “I can't wait to see inside. It'll be like going to a house of horrors on Halloween.”

“Yeah, well, you can think whatever you want, but keep your trap shut, Stace. And no selfies with ugly bags that you'll post on your blog later, do you hear me?”

Stacey giggled. “Fine.”

“I'm dead serious.” Virginia glared at her, and Stacey threw up her hands.

“Okay, okay.”

Virginia jammed on sunglasses and hid her hair under a cute bucket hat while she waited for Muscles to scope out the store. A few minutes later, he returned and opened her door, but she hesitated. Maybe this wasn't the best idea. Maybe they ought to just go have brunch.

“Come on,” Stacey said, scrambling out to the street. She slammed the door and bounded around to tug on Virginia's hand. “Hurry up, Ginny.”

With a sigh, Virginia stepped onto the sidewalk, narrowly missing a wad of gum. And immediately after that, the doors of Lilah's flew open, and Dex strolled outside. As she watched, frozen, he adjusted his tie and buttoned his suit coat. And then he inclined his head with a brilliant smile. Oh, God.

“Good morning, ladies.”

“Oooh. My opinion of this place might just change. Wonder who the hell that is?” Stacey whispered.

Virginia swallowed. “Uh, that's potentially my new boss. Rain check on the stealth shopping?”

“
That's
your boss? No way am I leaving now,” Stacey answered. She took a step forward. Virginia blocked her.

“Yes way. Go have brunch and I'll make it up to you.” She widened her eyes.

Stacey rolled hers. “Fine. But I'm using the hell out of your bag until I see you again.” She held up the gorgeous white leather tote and grinned.

“Fine,” Virginia agreed. “Get out of here.”

With a laugh and a swing of her hair, Stacey started walking. Virginia turned toward Dex, who hadn't moved from the store entrance. He smiled again and held out a hand. “Welcome to Lilah's.”

“Thanks.” She stepped forward, flanked by Muscles and Silent. “I didn't expect you to be . . . that is, I just wanted to take a look around before we meet tomorrow.”

“And your friend?”

Virginia glanced down the block to make sure Stacey was still walking. “Oh, she just . . . rode with me down here. She has a manicure appointment nearby.” It wasn't the truth, but it was a safe bet that a nail salon would be on Stacey's list today. Just not in this neighborhood.

“Okay. Come on in,” Dex said. “See what you think.” He held the door open for her, and she stepped into the dim interior, bracing herself as she removed her sunglasses and hat and slipped them into her tasseled bag.

It was hard to keep a smile on her face as she looked around. The place was oppressive and awful—like a dusty tomb where fashion had gone to die. Everything was gray marble, from the high coffered ceilings held up by pillars, to the dull floor, which was covered with rows of glass-topped wooden cabinets. Stationed behind the cabinets were ladies in smocks—smocks!—and the walls behind them were lined with tall shelves of merchandise. It was like a time machine but not in a fun, fascinating way. More like a sad, pathetic way. There were a handful of shoppers perusing a display of umbrellas. Other than that, the place was deserted. She did the only thing she could do—she nodded. A lot.