Command (28 page)

“And Simon is on that list?”

“Aren’t you glad?”

They talked about business for a while, discussed their plans to debut Molly at Aria’s apartment then Julien invited her to accompany him to the upcoming opening of the Bonds store at Kennedy’s new building, the State Street Plaza.

When they’d finished the bottle of wine, he called for a car.

As she was walking to the elevator, she saw several new pieces of art on the wall. “Are those frames from the movie storyboard?”

He grinned. “I am a handsome fellow, aren’t I?”

She punched the elevator button.

As the doors whisked closed behind her, he shouted out, “Don’t give up! I’m betting on the boots.”

* * * *

She wanted to believe Julien—desperately, desperately wanted to believe him. After all, he knew Grant better than anyone else on the planet did. But at the days dragged, she told herself she was behaving like Grant had been. Morosely going through life, not savoring or enjoying.

She opened the door and said, “Hello, Molly.”

“
Good morning, Princess
.”

She grinned at the word princess. Someone, either Grant or Julien, had tweaked the response.

But then she realized the greeting was wrong. “It’s evening, Molly.”

“
It’s twelve-o-seven a.m. in California, Princess
.”

She checked her phone. “Right.” And that was a good start. “Lights on. Forty percent. Shower on, one hundred degrees.”

So far, Molly could only do a few things, and not all of them reliably. Like this time—the heater kicked on, and the water in the shower was about forty degrees. As for the lights, all of them came on.

Aria overrode the heater, adjusted the light dimmer switches and turned up the temperature of the shower water before jotting a note on her phone and sending it via email to the development team.

As she stood in the shower, she replayed the time with Julien. Being in his company, subject to his bizarre thought processes and offbeat humor, had helped her put things in perspective, as had the news that Simon had moved on. Ironic that she was still wallowing.

Determined that, even if she felt like hell, she would fully reengage, she finished her shower and went to bed. Before she fell asleep, Julien’s words echoed in her head.

“I’m betting on the boots.”

Chapter Twelve

“A genius is trying to reach you.”

This time, Grant answered. He figured ten days of solitude was long enough. If he were honest, he’d admit even he was sick of his own company. Julien’s intrusion was a welcome distraction. “Video on.”

From behind his desk in Cupertino, Julien frowned. “Well, don’t you look…
well?
”

“Sorry to disappoint,” he said drily.

“It’s not disappointment, actually. It’s just… I was hoping to see Blanca.”

“And I’m not giving you a reason. So it is a disappointment.”

“All that green chile—and a hot tamale.” He sighed.

Julien mentioned nothing about Grant’s lack of communication or the situation with Aria, and Grant was eternally grateful. That was the basis of true friendship in his opinion.

He didn’t need recriminations. He had enough of those.

“We’re having some problems with Molly.”

“Tell Ben Marley.”

“I would. But it’s the one at Aria’s place.”

“Not my project.”

“Of course not. But I shot you the code that went wrong.”

Ignoring any forthcoming argument, Julien beamed the code straight onto Grant’s glass work screen, superimposing it above the notes he’d been making on the hologram project. Despite his best intentions, Grant glanced at it. “After midnight?” he asked.

“Does it say that?”

Julien could write code as well as any of the greatest minds who’d graduated from the most prestigious technical universities.

“Third line,” Julien said.

Grant saw it. And changed a one to a zero. Other errors jumped, and he corrected them as well. “Anything else?” he asked the genius.

“Headed to Boston in two days. Aria is going with me.”

“And?”

Rather than answer, Julien changed the subject, mentioned the script he was considering then ended the conversation.

Grant steepled his fingers and gently touched the tips together repeatedly. Julien might think he was a genius, but this time Grant was a step ahead of him.

He’d spent the first three days of Aria’s absence throbbing with loneliness. The portrait in his bedroom had seemed to mock him, which was most of the reason that he’d avoided going to bed.

But after that…

He’d started to right his world.

He’d begun eating again, sleeping on a regular schedule, working when the muse struck, exercising, soaking in the hot tub.

Even though it was frigid, he’d gone for a hike in Bandelier National Monument, and that was where he’d found peace.

With the blistering wind biting his skin, things had become clear.

He had been letting Kathleen and their tumultuous past ruin his future. Aria was nothing like his ex. He’d blamed himself for Kathleen’s car wreck, the anguish of waiting while she’d been checked out at the emergency room. For days afterward, he’d waited on her, doted on her, but nothing had made her happy. He’d told himself it was the shock, but it hadn’t been.

Kathleen hadn’t been able to put sanity ahead of tantrums.

In retrospect, he’d been an idiot to try as many times as he had.

While Aria’s words had been harsh the night before she’d left, she’d been more accurate than he’d been willing to admit.

In the cold light of an endless winter night, he’d finally faced it.

But there was another truth, as well. She needed a strong, complex man. And he damn well intended to step up and be the man she needed.

He wasn’t sure if things could work out with Aria, but he had a few ideas. And the woman was forever telling him she liked to make her own choices. So it was damn well time that he gave her a few to select from.

* * * *

In the years that she’d worked for Bonds, Aria had never been to a store opening. She’d seen pictures, heard rumors, watched videos. Even though she’d visited almost every store, she’d never been there for an actual opening.

Julien had never missed one.

He guided her through the back door of the Old Bronwyn Building to a freight elevator that would whisk them to the eighth floor, where they were meeting Kennedy Aldrich and Mackenzie Farrell for dinner.

“I had no idea service like this actually existed,” Aria said.

“It does when you own the building.”

“This is yours?” she asked.

“Kennedy’s. Or rather, his family’s.”

She’d selected a black cocktail dress, but Julien was wearing dress slacks, a white Oxford shirt, a sloppily looped tie and, of course, hideously colored athletic shoes.

Just the reminder of Grant gave her a pang of loneliness.

But she reminded herself that he’d moved away to avoid exactly this kind of scene.

She decided that, just for an hour, she wouldn’t obsess about where he was or what he was doing, who he was with or whether he missed her as much as she missed him. She ignored the nagging voice that told her she’d need to make the same deal with herself an hour from now.

“Through the doors, down the hall then take a left,” Julien said when the elevator stopped at the eight floor.

“Good evening, Mr. Bonds, Ms. DeWitt. Right this way,” the maître d’ greeted without Julien ever supplying a name.

Unbelievable.

Kennedy and Mackenzie were already in the private dining room, and Kennedy stood to greet them. Like Julien, he too, was wearing blinding neon shoes. They were so bright her eyes momentarily watered.

“I figured it would be quieter over here,” Kennedy said after they were all seated. “You’ve already got a hell of a crowd gathered for tomorrow’s opening. They’re spread out on three different floors. Some people brought tents and set up two days ago.”

“It’s the giveaways,” Julien said.

“It’s the opportunity to meet the genius,” Kennedy corrected, “and get their electronics personally signed.”

“Well, totally right,” Julien agreed. “I’m just too modest to say so.”

“Modest,” Aria agreed.

“Besides, you can take in the sight of the whole building from here,” Mackenzie added. “And it’s something to behold.”

“The future Mrs. Aldrich is correct,” Kennedy said.

“You finally gave in?” Julien asked. “Oh, my dear sweet Mackenzie, I was hoping you’d make him suffer a little longer.”

“She lifted the moratorium.” He reached across the table, picked up Mackenzie’s hand and kissed her near the ring.

“I may swoon,” Julien said, fanning himself with a napkin.

“I think I missed something.” Aria looked between Julien and Mackenzie.

Mackenzie grinned. “I told Kennedy he couldn’t ask me to marry him for three months.”

“Felt like three years,” he added.

“But he had my engagement ring.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to wait, either,” Aria confessed. “May I see it?”

Mackenzie showed off the stunning square-cut diamond.

“I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s beautiful. When’s the wedding?”

“This summer,” Kennedy said.

“No date yet,” she corrected, leveling a steely glare at her fiancé.

Aria suddenly liked the woman. She knew what she wanted, was willing to wait.

“Well, at least it will stay interesting,” Julien said. “Unlike my love life.”

“What? You have a love life?” Kennedy asked.

“No.”

“Do tell,” Mackenzie encouraged. “I want to hear.”

“I had a hot tamale date. I thought.”

Aria reached for her glass of water and took a long drink.

“I sent the Tornado for her.”

“Impressive,” Mackenzie replied. “Have you done that for a woman before?”

“I did it for three.”

Kennedy frowned.

“At the same time.”

“I’m lost,” Mackenzie admitted.

“Blanca,” he said.

“Of Los Alamos restaurant fame? The one you’ve named the new app after?”

He had?

“Si.
I thought it was love. I sent the Tornado. Imagine my surprise when I showed up at the airport and her mother and sister were with her. Something about no bedsheets wiggling for me.”

Mackenzie laughed so hard she pressed her hand against her mouth.

Aria looked at the State Street Plaza building. The structure was a visual masterpiece. “This view really is something.”

“Something, indeed,” Mackenzie agreed, recovering enough to be a good hostess and help redirect the conversation from Julien’s devastation.

“We’re pleased,” Kennedy said. “Quite pleased.”

Julien had already told her that the State Street Plaza was the crown jewel in the Aldrich Real Estate Holdings empire. Over the years, construction had undergone numerous delays.

And now, with the addition of a spire, the architecturally stunning twisted glass building had clawed its way into the record books as the tallest structure in Boston. Nothing had prepared her for the way its shape would create the optical illusion that it was moving.

They chatted about the building and business, and the athletic shoe company Kennedy had invested in.

“Don’t tell me,” Aria said. “Walking on air.”

“Precisely,” Julien said.

Mackenzie rolled her eyes.

Clearly, the shoes were a man thing.

* * * *

After dinner, a car had whisked them to the back of the State Street Plaza. Kennedy had arranged for rooms there and explained that there were a couple of back ways around. He’d added that the building had been designed to accommodate egos even larger than Julien’s.

“Is that possible?” Aria had asked.

Every bit of her suite was stunning. She’d never stayed in anything like it and probably never would again.

As she did often, she thought of Grant, wishing he was here to share it with her.

Loneliness raked its way through her insides.

Reminding herself that her hour was up and that she could allow herself to think of him again, she went to take a shower.

Memories washed over her and, this time, she surrendered to them.

She remembered him touching her pussy…

And she slid her fingers between her labia.

She remembered the way he’d squeezed her nipples before placing a clamp or the metallic balls…

And she twisted her nipple.

She remembered him telling her that he wanted her to wait for her orgasm…

Slowly, lightly at first, then faster and quicker, she moved her fingers over her clit, into her pussy. She fucked herself with her fingers, stretching, filling, as if he were there.

The orgasm built, and she forced it back, holding onto it as he might demand.

“They belong to me now.”

Even in her mind, she was his to command.

Tears formed then spilled as she jerked her hips forward and climaxed all over her hand.

She dropped her head forward and allowed the water, the heat, to soothe her.

Worn out, she crawled into bed, curled into a ball. She finally fell asleep once she imagined she was wrapped in Grant’s arms, and she slept until Julien’s theme song shattered the silence.

He invited her to his room for room service breakfast, and he promised he had coffee—lots of it.

He also had an unreasonable amount of energy. What he didn’t have was flavored creamer.

Fortunately, she discovered he did have a plate of chocolate croissants.

After breakfast, they agreed to meet again at eight. They’d go down to the store opening together. A trio of security guards would meet them outside the service elevator and ride down with them. They’d use back of the house routes, emerging into the retail space on the third floor.

“You have security?”

“Precaution. Necessary evil at times. I hate it.”

She nodded.

Back in her room, she showered and got ready, dressing in a skirt, a sweater and her favorite boots.