Know Her, Love Her: Daisy & Belmont, Book ONE (11 page)

He stands as soon as he sees me. “Hey.”

“Hey, can we talk?” I ask, ignoring how disappointed the receptionist is to see me.
 

“Talk to you later, Melissa,” he says.

“So we’re still on for dinner?” she asks him.

“Sure, why not,” he says.

“Excellent, I’ll make the reservation.” She scurries out of the office without looking at me.

“I just learned two things—her name and why she treats me the way she does,” I say.

“How does she treat you?” he asks as we sit.

“Rudely. Nasty. Not very welcoming.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

I shrug. “I can handle it. Don’t say anything to her. You’re taking her to dinner? You must like her.”

“A bunch of us are going to this pop-up restaurant on Wabash Avenue. Want to come?”

I shake my head. “Nope. But I do want to talk to you about a few things.”

He narrows one eye. “Like what?”

“Well, I have to attend a party next Saturday.”

“A party? In France?”

“No, in Louisiana. My sister and brother-in-law are having an engagement party.”

“Did you say sister and brother-in-law?”

I sniff a chuckle. “Yes, Belmont’s brother is engaged to my half sister. We’re keeping it in the family.”

“Wow, that’s something.”

“Yeah, but Charlie and Angel are not like us. They’re destined to make it. I’m pretty sure we’re going to get a divorce.” I can’t believe I revealed that.

“Oh… Sorry to hear that.”

“Well… it’s a pitiful spot to be in.” I nod through the awkward silence. That was definitely too much information. Suddenly, I remember my conversation with Mags and finally understand her analogy. “Oh, I don’t want to be the host, nor should I be.”

He balks. “Oh? Why not?”

I channel Maggie. “It’s not what I do. Plus, viewers don’t want their women as adventurous as I am. Maybe in an article but not in person.”

He chuckles. “And what makes you think that?”

“Well, you’re not trying to make a sexy show, and my taxicab series has a pinch of sexiness in it.”

“We.”

“We what?”

“
We
are making a show.”

I smile. “Okay—we. Unless we’re only going for the L.A. and New York demographic, then for exploration and adventure, we need a male host. Someone ruggedly handsome and brash.”

Dexter sits back in his chair and rests his chin on his steepled hands. He studies me with narrowed eyes. “That’s exactly what Kristin said. She said you’re too sexy, but damn, your voice in those articles… I want to manifest it.”

“Then
man
ifest it.”

He sniffs. “Nice pun. Are we really still that backward as a society?”

I shrug. “What about Javar Les? He’s handsome and rugged and self-assured. I gave you his number and—”

He throws up his hands. “He’s our director, Daisy.”

I nearly choke with shock. “What?”

“He wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, surprise!” I shake my head. “Is Javar the reason you reached out to me?” I don’t know how I feel about that. I thought Dexter was really a fan of my work.

“Perk up.” He smiles convincingly. “After reading your book, I was more on board than he was.”

I study his expression. It would be easier to ditch this entire project. As far as Javar is concerned, it sounds like an elaborate scheme to get me to sleep with him. I sort of feel as though I should give Javar what he wants just to get even with Belmont, but that wouldn’t be me at all. “I’ll continue working on the show, but we’re going to get a male host.”

“I like your suggestion. Javar is the next best option.”

“He was my trip companion throughout most of Europe.”

“And the two of you never had a…” He narrows one eye.

“No, we never had a…” I copy his facial expression.
 

Dexter laughs as he stands. “I’ll update Kristin. She’s going to love this.” His desk phone rings, and he answers it. His eyes expand before he hands the receiver to me. “It’s for you.”

I’m taken aback. “Who is it?”

“Your father.”

I’m stunned. “Jacques?”

Jacques has invited me to his performance on Saturday night at a venue near the Riverwalk on Dearborn Avenue. Kristin becomes nicer to me after she finds out that I’ve relinquished my role as the host. Alone in a bathtub is the last place I want to be tonight, so when Dexter asks me to join them for dinner, I say yes.
 

We go out in a large group of mostly unfriendly women and their men. The chef is cooking Italian cuisine, which is one of my favorites. A lot of conversations take place around me, but I smile and pretend I’m paying attention. Kristin, Kate, and Emma are planning a couples’ kickball game this Saturday. Kate suggests Lincoln Square Park, but Kristin says it’s too big and crowded on the weekends.
 

“What about Lakeshore East Park?” Emma says.

“Where’s that?” Kate asks.
 

“That’s right outside your front door, isn’t it?” Dexter asks me.
 

I’m suddenly hot under the collar. The girls intend to exclude me, and I want to be excluded. I didn’t even think Dexter was listening to them since Melissa has been monopolizing all his attention.
 

“Is it? I don’t know. It’s my parents’ condo, so…” I say.

Then I hear, “Aren’t you married to Jack Lord?”

I feel as though my head turns in slow motion. When Emma asks the question, everyone at the table acknowledges my presence. I like it better when they are deliberately ignoring me. I clear my throat and square my shoulders as if I’m readying for a showdown. “I am.”
 

“Is he in town? You two can come to the kickball game together.”

I fidget. “He’s in town, but we don’t play kickball. Thanks for asking.” My tone is icy.

“You two are divorcing, no?” Kate asks.

I spear the salty pasta on my plate. In all the hours we’ve worked together, they haven’t mentioned Belmont since that night at karaoke, at least not in my presence. I can sense their curiosity and know they have been talking about me behind my back though.
 

I’m not used to mean-girl tactics. I’m the outsider, and they have continued to treat me that way. Emma and Kate are Kristin’s friends, and that’s how they got their jobs. That’s why she’s always giving them assignments. Damien and Braden where hired after a rigid interview process. They do all the heavy lifting, and they’re the associate producers I usually work with.
 

So I show the mean girls how we deal with stupid people like them where I’m from. I continue eating and pretend as if she never asked that question. After a while, the conversation slowly turns back to kickball, but I’m still mad as hell. Dexter keeps flashing his smile and bright blue eyes at me. I give him a weak smile, and Melissa works harder to maintain his attention.
 

I check my watch. Thirty minutes have passed since Kate asked the offensive question. I calmly set my fork on my plate and take my napkin off my lap and lay it on the table. “Well, I’ve had good time. See you all tomorrow,” I announce to whoever’s listening.

I rise to my feet, and Dexter joins me.
 

Melissa is caught off-guard. “Are you leaving?”
 

I wave, signaling him to sit back down. “No, stay. I’ll just walk up Wacker.”

“It’s fine,” he says, walking in my direction.
 

“I’ll go with you guys,” Melissa says.

Dexter holds up a hand. “No, we’re fine.” He doesn’t give her a second look.

I shrug as he puts his hand on my back and walks me out. The tension follows us out the door. I shiver as soon as the cold seizes me.
 

Dexter drapes his overcoat across my shoulders. “Better?”

“You didn’t have to leave, you know.”

He shrugs as he blows into his hands to keep warm. “I was bored.”

“You seemed to be having a good time. You should take your coat back if you’re cold.”

“I don’t want it back. And you seemed to be having a bad time.”

“I can’t believe Kate asked that. I’m aware that the girls on the team don’t care for me, but she crossed the line.”

“You handled her pretty well.”

“Thanks,” I say. He blows into his hands again, so I curl my arm around his waist. “Better?”

He pulls me closer. “A lot.”

We cling to each other as we cross the bridge over the lake. I admire how the city lights paint the surface of the water.

“You want to grab a drink?” he asks.

I smile wryly as I shake my head.

He smirks. “What’s that face for?”

I shrug.

“What?”

“Are you flirting with me?” my voice rings with curiosity.
 

He laughs. “A bit, but I’m a flirt.”

“Yes, you are.”

“You’re beautiful, Daisy. You don’t seem to care about that, which makes you even more appealing. But if I make a move on you, Javar would…” He runs a finger across his neck.

I roll my eyes. Javar’s infatuation with me is so insane. I haven’t the slightest attraction toward him. He’s not unattractive. He’s simply not my type. “How do you know Javar anyway?”
 

He stops us in front of Houlihan’s. “I can answer that over a drink.”
 

It’s still too early to go home if I want to avoid thinking about Belmont. I gesture toward the door. “After you.”

“After
you
,” Dexter says.

He opens the door, and we’re lucky to find two empty stools at the crowded bar. Dexter orders a whisky, and I get a glass of Merlot.
 

“So you were going to say?” I ask.

“Ah, Javar. He’s my sister’s husband’s brother.”

I grin. “He’s such a cocky son of a gun. I wonder why he never told me he has a brother.”

“You two are that close?”

“He taught me how to swim the seas.”

He looks at me askew. “And you never sealed the deal?”

I take a sip of wine. “No. I had a boyfriend that I didn’t love, or like, but nevertheless, I made a commitment to that jackass.” I latch on to Dexter’s hearty laugh.

“And now you have a husband,” he says.

“And Javar knows this, right?”

“He knows. He also knows you’re on the rocks.”

“Oh yeah?” I sigh. “He’s like Belmont, and you. He’s tall, good-looking, and walks as though he expects the whole world to fall at his feet.”

Dexter nearly chokes on his whiskey. “Who me?”

“Maybe not.”

“You think your husband’s arrogant?”

“I wouldn’t say arrogant. He’s not used to rejection, and neither is Javar. When I first met Belmont, I rejected him, and he just couldn’t stand it. He’s constantly chasing me because I’m always pushing him away. I don’t do it on purpose. I used to wonder if I just gave in and became exactly who he wants me to be, would he retreat?”

“Who does he want you to be?”

I shake my head. “Hell if I know. But what do men like you want? I mean, you say I’m beautiful, but so what? If the standards of beauty changed tomorrow, then I wouldn’t be beautiful and neither would you.” I’m lightheaded, and my lips are loose. “Real people who feel human walk with the slightest hunch.” I curve my shoulders to show him. “Like this.”

Dexter’s expression beams with amusement. “I walk with a hunch.”

I shake my head. “No, you don’t. You walk like… you know.”
 

“Like I know?”

“Yeah… like you certainly know.”

“Like I know what?”

“You’re at the top of the pyramid. You have your choice. And so does my husband.
My husband
…” I consider taking another drink. The wine is strong, and my tolerance is so low that not even an ant could reach it.
 

“So you think I’m beautiful?” he asks, smiling impishly.

“Very.”

“Well, Jack Lord’s an idiot.”

“No.” I shake my head vehemently. “What he did was inexcusable, but I have problems. That’s why I walk with a hunch. I have problems, but I know that. He has problems, and he doesn’t get it.”

“I have problems. Ask my ex-wife.”
 

I raise my glass. “You know what? It just came to me. My husband wants me to really want it.”

Dexter frowns, confused.

“He wants me to show him who I really am,” I say.

“Then who are you?”

I put on my best Jack Nicholson sneer. “Here’s looking at her… Wait, that wasn’t Humphrey Bogart.” My head is spinning.
 

Dexter laughs and signals the bartender, who comes right over.
 

“That never happens,” Dexter mutters.
 

The bartender points at me. “Wine and whisky?”
 

“I’m cut off,” I say.

“A wine and a whisky,” Dexter says.
 

“Got it.” The bartender turns away before I can object.

“I’m not drinking it,” I assure Dexter.

“Let loose. I’m not going to take advantage of you. You’re safe.”

I sigh deeply and rest my head on my palm. “It’s not about letting loose. I don’t like feeling inebriated. I love being in the moment. Where do you live anyway?” My brain is scattered.

“I’m staying in a brownstone on the north side. They call it the Gold Coast.”

I perk up. “One of those beautiful brownstones with the big windows and come-hither lighting inside?”

“I like the sound of come-hither. Have you been to my neighborhood?”

“The other night. We went for a drive.” I try to erase my memory of Belmont’s touch, smell, and how he felt inside me.

“We?”

 
“My husband and I.” I take a healthy gulp of wine.

“Oh?” he says.

“Is the brownstone yours?”
 

“It belongs to a friend of mine. He’s in New York. He wants me to buy it though.”

“Are you going to?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. I can give you a showing if you like.”

“Well, you’re living in it now.”

“That’s okay. Do you want to see it tonight?”

I snicker. “I thought I was safe with you?”

“I only want to show the house, not my bed. Plus, I don’t like being alone, and I like hanging out with you.”