Dangerous Love (23 page)

“Nothing. He’s Aunt Viv’s guest, untouchable.”

“Please, please, tell Lex everything. He and Eddie can boot him out.”

Faith giggled, visualizing the scene and loving it. “Yeah, right.”

“If you haven’t noticed,” Ashley continued, “she never picks on Lex or Eddie.”

“That’s because she adores them.” Lex could do no wrong in Aunt Viv’s eyes because he looked like his father and her favorite brother Aaron. While Eddie…Eddie said and did things his way even if it pissed anyone off, including his father. The devil’s spawn was Aunt Viv’s nickname for him. When Faith joined the family, she’d assumed that Aunt Viv disliked Eddie, until she noticed that she often gave him more expensive and fun presents.

“You still there?” Ashley asked.

“Yeah. No need to involve Eddie or Lex. I’ll make it clear to Sean that I don’t want a relationship with him, personal or business.”

“I should be there to see that,” Ashley said and sighed.

“What? You’re not coming?”

“Unfortunately, no. Ron’s cousin just got engaged and the family is having a big Thanksgiving thing at his grandmother’s place in Las Vegas. Everyone will be there, even Ron’s mother and her new boyfriend. Nina will throw a fit if we don’t go.”

Faith closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. She’d been counting on her cousins being there for moral support. “I hope Jade is going to make it. I missed her call, but couldn’t get through when I called back.”

“Same here. Faith, if you want me to be there—”

“No, that’s okay.” Faith frowned.

“Join us in Vegas,” Ashley suggested.

That was the second time someone suggested she skip Thanksgiving to avoid Sean. “I can take care of myself, Ash.”

“I know, and honestly, I don’t know how you do it. I just think you need a break from everything. Please, come with us to Vegas.”

“Actually, I’ve been thinking of asking Ken to go with me.” As soon as she spoke, she warmed to the idea.
Let’s hope he doesn’t prefer the Bahamas.

Ash chuckled. “That sounds wonderful. Give the old birds something to yap about.”

***

Ken disappeared into his home office as soon as he got home. He turned on his computer. While he waited for the system to kick in, he made calls, starting with Barbara.

“We did it, Kenneth,” the woman said. “We showed that odious man he can’t mess with someone under our protection. Did you see the article on Faith in the Times?”

Ken frowned. “No.”

“Sean can no longer discredit her. Everyone is looking forward to seeing her collection. Did you get everything you needed to bust him?”

“We did.” She didn’t need to know about their failed attempt to use Deidre or the truth about Faith’s collection. “I couldn’t have done it without you ladies.”

She giggled. “I’ll tell the girls. Faith can now finish the gowns she was making for us without that odious man breathing down her neck. Oh, I love happy endings.”

Ken didn’t know how to respond to that.

“Just one last thing, I need a P. I. consultant for my next movie. Can my people call your people?”

“Sure.” Ken chuckled as he hung up. He didn’t know whether he was ready to go Hollywood. He logged on his e-mail account. While he skimmed over messages, he speed-dialed his sister’s number.

“Yeah?” a deep male voice answered.

Ken frowned. “Is Misa there?”

“Who’s asking?”

Ken wasn’t in the mood to play Q&A with his sister’s latest boy toy. “Get my sister on the phone.”

There was silence then Misa said, “Ken?”

“Why do you date such—?”

“Don’t say it,” Misa snapped. “He is superhot, super sweet, and super good to me. What’s put you in such a sour mood?”

“I’m not in a sour mood.” He just didn’t get why his brilliant, Stanford-educated sister always dated Neanderthals. “Do you invest in high fashion?”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” she quipped, her tone reprimanding. “As for your question, the answer is no.”

“Why not? Isn’t that what venture capitalists do…finance entrepreneurs?”

“High-potential, high-risk biotech, IT, and software startups,” she corrected him, “which you’d know if you bothered to attend shareholders’ meetings or read the minutes I send you. What’s going on? Since when does your interest include high fashion?”

“A designer friend of mine is looking for an investor.” Faith would dazzle them with her business plan.

“She needs a sponsor, big brother, not an investor. Talk to Mom.”

His mother would ask questions he wasn’t ready to answer. “That’s okay.”

“Come on. She thrives on helping struggling artists.”

“Local artists,” he corrected.

“Once again you’re behind times,” Misa said. “Seriously, what do you talk about when you call Mom? She went global a year go. She even has a website.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Who is she? One of your charity cases or someone special? Must be something special. Your charity overtures usually extend to ex-military type with surveillance know-how or jobless nerds.”

“She’s special,” he said to shut her up and immediately regretted it. “I got to go, Misa.”

“Not so fast. You can’t just drop a bomb like that and then run. Who is she? How long have you been seeing her? When are you bringing her home to meet the folks?”

“Bye, Misa.” He hung up, chuckling. He should have known she’d start firing questions at him. His cell phone rang again, but he ignored it when it showed his sister’s number. He logged out of his e-mail account then Googled Gemma Frost.

He hated the fact that he could help Faith financially but she was too stubborn to accept his offer. At least locating her mother’s friend, Gemma Frost, was one thing he could do for her without ticking her off.

***

Faith packed things in her car and headed to West Hollywood. She needed to stay busy, keep her demons at bay the only way she knew how. The front of her store no longer looked like it had been burglarized. The broken glass and the police tape were gone, the giant hole on her window fixed. She unlocked the door, stepped inside and leaned forward to disarm her alarm system.

“Ms. Fitzgerald?” a man said from behind her.

Heart hurtling to her throat, Faith whipped around. The uniform and the logo on his shirt registered. Noble’s man. She’d completely forgotten they were watching the store. “Hi. You scared me.”

“Sorry about that, Ms. Fitzgerald. We weren’t expecting you today.”

“I got a call from Jordan that they were done.” She walked forward, taking in everything. How did they find the original display counters? They even did an amazing job cleaning the insides of the display cases and the surfaces.

Faith realized the security guard was watching her. She smiled. “It’s nice to see my store back to normal again.”

“Mr. Noble asked our tech team to upgrade your security system too. He said you could change the password when you got back.”

“That’s good. I’ll do that after bringing my things inside.”

“I can help if you like, miss.”

“Oh, that’s nice of you to offer. Thank you.” Outside, she opened the back of the car and lifted two dress forms. The guard went for a heavier item.

She spent the next hour fixing her store, placing everything where it belonged. Working helped her push aside thoughts of Sean and Deidre, and the mess that was her life. When she was done, she placed calls, the first three to her workers, another to Jordan, the contractor, and the last to her cousin.

“Whose arm did you twist to get duplicates of the display cases I used before?” Faith teased.

Lex chuckled. “No one. Just made a few phone calls. Sorry Jordan missed the deadline.”

Yeah, by twelve hours. Her cousin was unstoppable when he wanted something done, which was why he was a successful real estate developer. “Today worked just fine for me.”

“Good. We should sit down sometime and talk, Faith.”

Faith frowned. Did he know about Sean? “About?”

“This and that, like your trip back east to Fashion Week. You’ll need to transport your people and collection.”

Not sure where the conversation was headed, Faith shrugged. “Yeah, well, I’m not going to worry about buying tickets and whatnots until next month.”

“You shouldn’t worry about it at all. The jet is yours. Call the pilot when you’re ready with your itinerary.”

A lump settled in Faith’s throat. “Lex, that’s more than generous.”

“It’s nothing. The jet is for family use. Let’s talk soon.”

After she hung up, Faith took a moment to compose herself before walking back to the office to talk to the guard. They went over her new security system, set the password before he left. She did a walk through, spent another half hour rearranging a few things before heading home.

A quick inventory of her fridge and a sigh escaped her. It was time to replenish her groceries. Once again, she grabbed her keys and headed out the door. Like work, selecting different bags of salad, choosing which cans of soups and what cheese to add to her pantry, even watching the deli lady slice turkey breast, added normalcy back to her life.

Back at home, she grilled hotdogs, sliced and added them to cooked macaroni and cheese, added pepper and parsley then placed the mixture in a casserole dish. She sprinkled the top with shredded cheddar and set it in the oven to bake at three-hundred-and-seventy-five.

As Faith sliced French bread and smeared it with butter, sadness washed over her. She had no idea what prompted her to cook her grandmother’s favorite recipe. Going down memory lane alone sucked. She put the knife down and reached for her cell phone.

For a brief moment, she didn’t dial Ken’s number. Who knew she would miss him after not seeing him for only several hours?

She dialed his number and brought the phone to her ear. He picked it up after a few rings. “What are you doing for dinner?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“I’ve cooked my grandmother’s favorite dish and I don’t want to eat alone.”

“I’ll be there in five minutes.”

Faith frowned. “Five? Where exactly are you?”

“On my way to your place with our dinner, but I’m about to make a homeless person very happy.”

Faith laughed. It didn’t even cross her mind to be insulted that he’d assumed she’d be available for dinner without calling her first.

CHAPTER 18

Ken lifted the roses and the bottle of wine from the front passenger seat, nudged the car door closed with his elbow, and started for Faith’s door. He knew he’d taken a chance by deciding to stop by her place without calling first, but after he finished researching Gemma Frost, thoughts of Faith had returned to haunt him. No one should deal with the crap she was dealing with alone.

His breath caught when she opened the door with a breathtaking smile on her lips and a sparkle in her eyes. She was dressed casual, sexy—a pair of skinny jeans and a clingy aquamarine T-shirt.

“Are those for me?” Faith asked.

Blood was slow returning to his head. He offered her the roses and the wine.

“They’re beautiful.” She brought the partially opened blooms to her nose and inhaled. “Hmm, smells good. Thank you. Come on in.”

He followed her into the kitchen. Whatever she was cooking smelled good. “What are we having?”

“It’s a surprise.” She got a vase for the flowers then started setting the table. Ken jumped in, taking the utensils from her hands. He was surprised when she brought out a candle holder and lit the candles, turned off the chandelier in the dining room and waved him to a chair.

Instead of taking the chair, he stopped behind her, slipped his arms around her waist, hugged her and studied her offering—macaroni/cheese/hotdog mix, garlic bread and asparagus tips. Such a simple meal yet he knew it was significant.

“This is nice,” he whispered.

“I can never reproduce Nana’s dishes, but I try.”

He chuckled. “Then let’s enjoy it.”

They took their seats and piled their plates. The main dish was good, the asparagus buttery and crisp, and the red wine he’d brought with him perfect for the meal. He had two helpings before he gave his verdict.

“That was great,” he said, wiping his lips on a napkin.

Faith’s smile told him she liked the compliment even though she just shrugged. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” He leaned back, sipped his wine, and watched candlelight dance on her cheekbones. Faith was an exceptionally beautiful woman but he now knew her beauty wasn’t just on the surface. She had depth, inspired Hollywood movers to throw their support behind her and…

Ken frowned. She was toying with the leftovers on her plate instead of speaking. “What is it?”

“What are your plans for Thanksgiving?”

“I’ll be around, unless you decide to go with me to the Bahamas.”

“Don’t tempt me. What if I invited you to mine? I know it is kind of last minute and my family can be a bit overwhelming, especially this time of the year when the ones back east and Montana fly in.”

“There are Fitzgeralds in Montana?” he asked.

She grinned at his incredulous tone. “Aunt Marge is married to a rancher. One of her sons is following in his father’s footsteps and just started a horse-breeding ranch. Anyway, I know it’s a lot to ask, so if you’d rather go to the Bahamas I’ll understand.”

“Okay.”

She shook her head. “Okay you’d rather go to the Bahamas or okay you’ll stay here with me?”

“I choose you, Faith Fitzgerald.” Relief flashed in her expressive eyes. It bugged him she’d been worried about it and that O’Neal probably had something to do with it. “Where is the big occasion being held?”

“At my Aunt Viv’s place in Sonoma. Most of us just drive out on Thanksgiving Day. The ones flying in tend to come the day before and spend the night at her place, or drive back to L.A. with us.”

“So we’ll drive out Thursday morning and come back in the evening?”

She nodded. “That’s right.”

“I’m leaving on a business trip tomorrow, but I’ll be back on Wednesday.”

“Then it’s settled,” she said with relief. “I’ll tell my aunt I’m bringing a guest.”

“I’ll call you when I get back.”

She squeezed his hand, then pushed her chair back and started gathering the utensils from the table.

Ken joined her, picking up the serving bowl and plate.

“No, you are my guest.” She placed their wine glasses in his hands and nudged him toward the living room. “Watch something while I finish up in here.”

Cleaning up wasn’t his thing so he didn’t argue. Ken placed their drinks on the coffee table, found the remote control on top of the TV, and tuned to ESPN. A basketball game was on.

The papers on the coffee table caught his eyes just as he reached for his drink. Frowning, Ken glanced at the top one. Realization dawned when he saw the figures neatly broken down in Faith’s neat handwriting. Something cold settled in the pit of his stomach when he saw what she had written at the end of the page. Would she really cancel the show if she didn’t get a sponsor?

A loud cheer from the screen drew his attention. He kicked off his shoes and got comfortable. Soon he was lost in the game.

“Come on,” he yelled. “What was that?”

“Are we winning or losing?” Faith called out.

Ken blinked, her voice reminding him of where he was. “Depends on who you are rooting for, baby.”

Faith appeared in the arched doorway between the kitchen and the living room and pointed a ladle at him. “You’d better be a Lakers fan or you’re in trouble, mister.”

Ken laughed. “We’re losing. Kobe’s head isn’t in the game tonight.”

When she joined him, she settled against his chest and cheered as loud as he. She didn’t just love basketball; she knew the rules, the players, and the refs. By the time the game ended, he’d found something new to love about Faith Fitzgerald. He scooped her up.

 
“What are you doing?” she asked, looping her hands around his neck.

“Taking you to bed, where I plan to hold you until you fall asleep. Which way is the bedroom?”

She laughed and pointed the way. “Does that mean we’re not going to…” she wiggled her brow, “you know.”

“No. You tired me out last night and I need a day or two to recuperate.” They entered her bedroom which was done in white and a softer shade of blue. He lowered her onto the bed. “But feel free to have your way with me.”

“Nice to know I have your permission.” She held on to him when he would have straightened up his body and kissed him. “But I like your idea better.”

“Thank you. Now get out of these pants and into something unflattering, so you don’t continue to tempt me.”

Faith giggled, lifted her hips off the bed and shimmy out of her jeans. The urge to kiss the gentle swell of her stomach and thighs had him clenching a fist. Looking for something to replace his amorous thoughts, he gripped the legs of her jeans and tugged until he pulled them off. He folded them and went to place them on the leather bench at the foot of her bed.

When he turned around, she was removing her T-shirt. He swallowed as she bared a bra matching her panties, then groaned when she threw the shirt to him. It was still warm from being in close contact with her skin.

She was determined to make him suffer.

Faith crossed the room in her panties and bra, threw a glance at him, and chuckled before disappearing inside her closet. He shook his head. What a tease. Loving her was going to be a full-time job, one he looked forward to. She came back in a one piece, black lingerie, shooting his blood pressure shot through the roof.

“You are screwing with my head now.”

“No, sweetie,” she purred. “I sleep in this.” She stopped in front of him and tapped his nose. “Shouldn’t you be getting undressed? I have unused toothbrushes on the second drawer on the right.”

Oh, forget it. He yanked off his shirt, undid his pants and pulled them off along with his underwear. His mindless organ responded when she caressed him with her eyes. Not that he needed a reason to get hard. His control when it came to her was nonexistent.

“Now who’s not being fair?” she reprimanded him and flung back the covers.

“Not me. I sleep naked.” He walked to the bathroom and grinned as he brushed his teeth. She was already between the sheets when he reentered the bedroom. He crawled in beside her and brought her flush against him, so her back was to his front. It was going to kill him but he was determined to just hold her and talk.

“How was your store?” he asked.

“How did you know I went there?”

“The dress forms are missing from your living room and you mentioned the contractor was done.”

She chuckled. “I keep forgetting how observant you are. The store looked great. I don’t know how Lex did it, but he found the exact display counters I used before. I think he’s also the one who convinced the landlord to change security companies. Ron’s people will guard the building from now on.”

“That’s great.” From what Ron told him, Lex Fitzgerald was like General Hannibal. Once he set his mind on something, he moved mountains to make it happen, a tough act to follow for any man. A good thing Ken wasn’t interested in impressing him. Faith was the only Fitzgerald that mattered.

“Do you realize you’ve fulfilled your contract?” she asked, breaking into his thoughts.

He frowned. “What contract?”

“Remember why I hired you? To find the traitor at my store and confirm that Sean stole my designs. You did that last night and this morning. All I need to do is write you a check and we’re done.”

He didn’t want her money and he definitely wasn’t through with pinhead O’Neal. “He hasn’t paid for what he’s put you through.”

Faith turned sideways, her hand coming to rest on his chest. “Punishing him wasn’t in the contract, sweetie. That is a bonus.” She turned again until she faced him. “I’ve decided on something else.”

She was driving him crazy. Her sweet breath kept brushing his face, making him ache with desire. “Ante up my torture?”

She chuckled and kissed him. “No, silly. I’ve decided to fight back.”

 
He stiffened. “How?”

“I plan to sell the jackets in my collection. This way everyone will know Sean copied them if he uses them in Fashion Week.”

Her words filled him with relief. For one agonizing moment, he’d though she planned to confront Sean. “That’s brilliant.”

“Thank you. I’ll start designing new ones tomorrow.” Her hand left his face and moved lower to his chest then even lower until she found his erection.

***

Faith spent the next day doing laundry and cleaning her house, and then she sat down and tried to sketch. But the muses had either deserted her or her mind was elsewhere. Nothing she sketched jelled with the rest of her collection.

She went to bed frustrated.

On Monday, she got up bright and early, and was at her store an hour before her usual opening time. By the time her seamstresses arrived, Faith was already settled in. Without Molly, she was one employee short, which meant she had to keep an eye on the store while sketching and making phone calls. She hated that.

As soon as she sat behind the desk, the calls started. Some from assistants to editors, whom Faith had invited to her show but were on the sideline until now. Stylists to young stars and aging divas looking for gowns to award shows. Bloggers, journalists, assistants…the calls kept coming all morning. A single article had done wonders to her status, moving her from being unknown to someone fashionistas wanted.

Halfway through the morning, the door opened and three twenty-somethings walked in. Faith recognized two of them from a reality TV show. They browsed and mumbled among themselves while throwing sly glances her way.

“I’m going to try one,” one of them said, studying the jacket on the mannequin.

“Me, too.” The second one smiled at Faith. “Can we try these?”

Faith removed the jackets then led them to the changing rooms. When she turned around, she almost bumped into their friend. She carried a dress in her arm. “I hope you don’t mind waiting. I only have two changing rooms.”

“That’s okay. I don’t mind.” She studied Faith. “I read about you in the papers.”

“Yeah, it was a rather flattering piece,” Faith said.

“From what I see here, I’d say they were right. These clothes are exquisite. Do you have them in other colors?”

“Sorry. They’re one-of-a-kind. In fact, I created them for fall next year but decided to sell them instead.”

“Lucky for us,” she said and giggled.

By the time they left her store, Faith knew she had acquired regular clients. For the rest of the day, customers streamed in. Most of them had read the article and wanted to try her clothes, others were just curious. Despite the publicity, the call from GGC never came. Instead, Faith received one from her bank about her frozen account. Soon Marcella would want to know the status of the balance Faith owed her and the firm GGC hired to plan the post-show party probably knew she was no longer attending. It wouldn’t kill her if she missed the party, but the opportunity to mingle with editors and buyers would be gone.

Faith dropped her head on the desk and sighed with frustration. It wasn’t fair. She’d worked her butt off to make it this far. Refusing to feel sorry for herself, she got up and went from room to room, turning off lights. Back on the main floor, she froze as a limo pulled up in front of her building.