Toxic (15 page)

I dropped my gaze to the ground. “My father is in the Federal Prison Camp at Morgantown. He’ll be there for at least another year. When he was first arrested, he resigned as CEO of the Saint Corporation and appointed me to take his place. He stayed on as director and thought he would still be able to make all the decisions. But his decisions were further driving profits down, so I’ve had to refuse most of his recent advice. The problem is I can’t seem to turn the company around. Every quarter profits are continuing to slide.”

His hand went to my chin and he lifted it. “I know all about TSC’s financial situation and yours too. What I didn’t already know, you told me.”

“Oh, the night I can’t remember. . . .”

He nodded. “Yes, but go on.”

With a deep exhale I continued, “Things are at a point now where if I don’t turn them around, I won’t be able to and I’ll be forced to give up the company.”

“Would that really be that bad?”

Surprised by his candor, I took a moment before responding. “TSC is my family legacy. I have to fight for it.”

Somber, he gave me a nod and we sat in silence.

The train came to a stop and started again before I spoke. “I was thinking about what you’ve done with Jet Set and it dawned on me the Saint doesn’t capitalize on entertainment at all.”

He gave a huff of laughter. “Are you thinking about expanding into wax museums?”

I tilted my head in contemplation. “Red velvet ropes and a long queue are just what I need.”

He twisted his lip. “Something tells me piles of corpses will be bad for business.”

A spell of laughter had me drawing in a calming breath. “You have a point.”

My entire focus was on him and I never noticed when the train stopped again until Jeremy stood and took my hand. “Come on, this is our stop.”

We exited the subway and climbed the stairs. Outside it was chilly and the wind whipped my hair. I knotted it and tucked it inside my jacket to keep it out of my face. New York City is enormous but familiar landmarks will always tell you where you are. And as soon as I set foot on the street, I knew I was in the Village. After all, I’d gone to grad school down here. And if I hadn’t known where I was, and the winding cobblestone streets hadn’t given it away, the minute we turned on Bleecker Street would have.

It dawned on me that we were much closer to one of Jeremy’s clubs and his loft than my hotel. “You didn’t have to pick me up. I could have met you here.”

He shook his head. “I asked you out.” His face and his tone said, duh what are you, dumb?

It made me laugh.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I said as I walked beside him.

Bemusement danced across his face. “Go on. I’m still waiting to be propositioned.”

I bumped his body, and my entire body tightened. I’d forgotten fun between us had always led to heat. Desire made it hard to concentrate, but I somehow managed. “I already told you, I meant in the business sense.”

He took my hand and tugged me under the awning of a gourmet cheese shop. It allowed us to stop but not get mowed over by those walking behind us. The store was closed for the day, but the interior lights shone on the intensity in his eyes. I found myself wading in, not wanting to jump in those liquid blue pools. Realization dawned; I wanted to lose myself in him. That’s when I knew; I was failing miserably at separating business from pleasure.

“Yes,” he said.

One simple word.

My breathing quickened as my gaze shifted from his eyes to his mouth.
Had I heard him right?

“Yes,” he repeated again.

I found it hard to stand. My knees had gone weak and I leaned against the glass for support. The coolness knocked some sense into me and as I shook myself out of the lustful haze I was in, I forced myself to focus. “You don’t even know what I’m asking you.”

Wickedness now gleamed in his eyes.

That was not helping.

He stepped closer. “You want my help and if it means I get to spend time with you, then yes.”

Now flustered, I couldn’t steer the conversation. “You have to stop this, I’m serious.”

He caged me in. His palms pressed flat against the glass that my own palms were already pressed against. “So am I. Just tell me what it is, and I’ll do it.”

I lost my words. He was too close for me to focus. Was I going to be able to do this? To work with him? Yes, but I had to find balance. I had to find the strength to not get lost in this man.

In him.

Heady, I ducked out from under his arm.

He instantly turned to face me.

Extricated from his embrace, I felt like I finally had my wits about me. “I want you to consult with me on developing a plan for exclusive access nightclubs at the Saint.”

There I said it.

Jeremy leaned back and raised an interested brow.

Gaining my stride, I further explained. “The nightclubs would only be accessible to those staying at the hotel.”

He tilted his head. He seemed to be considering my suggestion.

“You hate the idea.”

“Sinners.” One word. That’s all he said.

I looked at him questioningly.

Jeremy was amused. “The name of the nightclubs. Call it Sinners.”

My insides lit up. “I love it. How’d you come up with it so fast?”

His eyes twinkled and I caught a glimpse of that bad boy from long ago. “What else could be more perfect than adding a little sin where there’s a saint.”

“Nothing,” I mused.
It was the perfect name.

“Come on, walk with me.”

I watched as he pushed himself off the glass and I repressed any thoughts about his body.

He, on the other hand, went right into business mode. “At first you’d have to offer limited exclusivity though. Weekends only for club members or something like that. Exclusive access takes time to build up to. You have to have a solid base before shutting everyone out.”

Impressed, I bit my lip. “Like you do with the clubs?”

He nodded. “I’m working on minimizing nonmembership nights. But it takes time. You have to build your membership first.”

“What else are you thinking?”

He grinned wickedly. “A lot.”

I smiled. “Go on. Remember, we’re talking business.”

He turned and walked backward. “I remember.”

I gave a huff of resigned laughter. This was going to be a challenge but I was up to it.

Thirty seconds later, he’d sped off a laundry list of ideas that sounded more than doable, they sounded brilliant. “Once design is complete, the key is the launch,” he said. “Have your friends be there every night of opening week. Call everyone you know to come. The press too. You have to make people think the place is inaccessible and then I promise you, it will be.”

Right in the middle of the sidewalk, I lunged myself at him and wrapped my arms around his neck. “Thank you.”

“For what?” he chuckled.

“For believing in my idea.”

His palms braced my back and he pressed his lean, hard body into mine. Our breathing was heavy. His lips were so close to mine but still he didn’t kiss me. I wasn’t sure he wanted to.

Was I misreading the signs?

I pulled away and cleared my throat. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t be.” He grinned deviously.

We started walking again.

“Tell me more,” he asked.

I let what had happened go so I could focus. “I spent the afternoon with TSC’s CFO. We have three vacant penthouse apartments in key cities. I’d like to start with those and then add to other cities if the project proves successful.”

We were almost to the Bowery when he bobbed his head. “This is it.”

My jaw dropped. “You’re purchasing La Rosetta?”

He opened the ornate door. “Possibly. It’s still up in the air.”

I’d been here a few times. The interior was simple, uncomplicated, and the ambiance had a sensual appeal about it. That, along with the raved-about food, made it a perfect draw. It was nearly impossible to get a reservation.

Jeremy approached the hostess and as she gushed over him, I watched the boy I had once known, except he was no longer a boy, he was a dashing, charming, confident man. Not that he wasn’t always that way—he was just more refined now. He had a certain kind of smoothness to him and it became very apparent, he knew it, and used it to get what he wanted.

I was impressed.

My mind wandered to the thought of Sinners. I hoped it would be TSC’s saving grace. It had to be. Hunter and I spent the day working on financial models, calculating what it would take to turn the business around. The bottom line was, it would take filling the hotels to capacity and my hope was that the elusive draw of an exciting new club would do that.

My phone beeped and I pulled it from my purse. It was a text from Lily with a link to Page Six. The text read:

Lily: If you want him, you better go after him because like I told you, she’s pursuing him. She sent the photos in herself. Preston told me.

Me: I’m with him right now.

Lily: That’s my girl.

Me: It’s not like that.

Lily: I’m not even going to ask.

I clicked on the link. It took me to the Sightings section of Page Six. I fumed at my screen. What the hell was going on? Right in front of me were two photos side by side of Jeremy and he wasn’t alone. One was of Jeremy and Avery sitting next to each other, deep in conversation at the Rose Bar. They looked at ease; maybe I even saw a glimpse of intimacy if I looked hard enough. I had no idea when that one was taken. The other was an even more intimate picture of Jeremy and Avery dancing at the Glitter Gala. He was covered in glitter, so there was no doubt it was taken the previous night. Avery was gazing up at him in adoration with those feline eyes of hers. The caption read:
Avery Lake getting cozy with enigmatic entrepreneur Jeremy McQueen.

Cozy!

I felt like someone had driven a spike through my heart.

“Anything good?” Jeremy asked as he turned around.

Somehow I managed to remain calm and shoved my phone in my bag. “No, not at all.”

“Your table is ready.”

Jeremy held out his arm and I, in turn, blew out a deep breath, and looped mine through.

As we walked though, insecurity nagged at me.

I knew I couldn’t afford to let it in—I had too much to accomplish.

The Start of Something New

Jeremy McQueen did not do romance.

Or at least the twenty-one-year-old Jeremy McQueen I had known didn’t. The closest he ever came was giving me my own flower from my hair.

Yet, as we were led up the stairs, the atmosphere in the restaurant changed from trendy to romantic. Rose petals led the way to a private dining room and in the middle of the large space, sat a single elegant table set for two. Sensual blues music played softly throughout the room, peonies graced the table, and candles were scattered everywhere.

The room was beautiful and I couldn’t help but look up at him in awe. “Who are you?”

He wore a cocky grin. “The guy that’s going to sweep you off your feet.”

I bit my lip. “What if I don’t want to be swept off my feet?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “I can always toss you over my shoulder and carry you.”

I laughed. “No, really, who are you?”

With a chuckle, he answered, “Phoebe, I’m the same guy I always was, just a little older and wiser.”

I glanced around again. “It’s perfect.”

But Jeremy was wrong—he wasn’t the same. I didn’t know how it was possible, but he was better. He was so much more confident and at ease with himself. He’d let something go. The chip on his shoulder was gone. The hot bad boy had become an insanely sensual man that I couldn’t help but want. Right here, in this room.

Change can be both good and bad though.

The old Jeremy would have taken me right there in the lustful haze that was so evident between us. The new Jeremy was more reserved, a businessman with a goal.

Yet I still wondered if that bad boy wasn’t in there. Was he seeing Avery Lake while pursuing me?

His mouth was at my ear, and the heat between us jarred me from my thoughts. “When you plan to double the owner’s income, there’s little he’ll refuse to do for you.”

My heart beat wildly. My body began to ache insanely for the man beside me.

As he pulled out my chair, I knew beyond a doubt, he was what I yearned for in my life.

Before I could say anything, Jeremy sat down and the sommelier was at our table in an instant. He handed Jeremy the wine list. “Good evening,” he said. “We have some astounding autumn wines available. The Barolo and Barbaresco wines are our best selling this month. Might I interest you in a bottle?”

Jeremy glanced at me. “I think the lady prefers white. What do you recommend?”

The wine steward quickly flipped through the pages of the menu. “Here you are sir, the drier ones to the left, the fruitier ones to the right.”

Jeremy’s eyes scanned the right side.

How did he know what I liked? I didn’t drink wine when I was twenty-one. That was for sure.

Jeremy looked up. “We’ll have a bottle of the Vespa Bianco 2006.”

“Excellent choice. One of the best we have.”

As the wine steward walked away, I looked at Jeremy. “How did you know I prefer white wine?”

“You ordered a pinot grigio at my club, and then I saw you drinking it again last night.”

“You were watching me last night?”

“If by watching, you mean observing, yes. If by watching, you mean stalking, not exactly, but close enough.”

I couldn’t help but smile. That photo of him and Avery was taken in a short window somewhere between when he had been painted in glitter and when I had chosen to leave and he was suddenly behind me. He must have been watching me, just as I had been watching him. I knew our eyes had collided many times, but I wasn’t sure if it was coincidence.

Now, I knew it wasn’t.

I felt something strange in my chest as the realization dawned. It was as if a few missing pieces of my heart floated from him to me to find their long-forgotten place. I couldn’t explain it but the fact that he was paying attention to me, when I didn’t think he was, did something to me.

I was being way too emotional. I reined it in as best I could and redirected the conversation back to business. “Well, that explains how you knew I was leaving. Now tell me about your plans for this place.”

He studied me. “Right. Back to business.”

His stare wasn’t that of a guy trying to get into a girl’s pants. It was more invasive. It was as if he was trying to figure me out. I guess he probably was. I knew I was flipping from hot to cold with him but it wasn’t on purpose. Something inside me was telling me to tread carefully, and I was trying really hard to listen. What he told me about the way he had acted the morning I woke up next to him made sense, but still I felt the explanation wasn’t completely on the up-and-up. It was nagging at me yet I couldn’t explain the unease I felt. But I couldn’t ask him about it because I didn’t understand it myself; I had to let it go.

The waiter approached the table. “We’re going to prepare a sampling of our best dishes for the two of you this evening. But before we begin, I wanted to make certain there was nothing you were allergic to or didn’t care for.”

Again Jeremy’s intense blue eyes were on me. “Do you still avoid red meat?”

I was amazed. “I do.”

There was no specific reason I didn’t eat red meat. It started when I was younger and my mother insisted I eat it for the iron.

There was a time in my life, I think I was almost twelve, when I rebelled against everything my mother wanted me to do. If she told me to walk, I ran. If she told me to wear a dress, I wore pants. When she told me to come straight home from school, I stopped along the way. If she told me not to get dirty in the park, I rolled in the mud.

It was a phase and it was gone soon enough like so many other childhood phases. And even though I had let most of the things go from back then, avoiding red meat had stuck with me.

The waiter made a note and then looked up. “For you too, sir?”

He nodded. “Yes, let’s make it simple.”

The waiter left the table. “You said you had penthouses in three cities? Which ones?” Jeremy asked.

I sat up straight. “Hey, wait. I want to know about this place.”

“All in good time.” The look he shot me was wicked.

Excited to discuss the new TSC project, I didn’t protest. “Well, Sinners . . .” I smiled when I said it.

His return smile was gorgeous. It helped ease the tension I was feeling.

“They’re in New York, Las Vegas, and LA. I was hoping to open them all around the same time.”

Jeremy tapped the table as if counting. “If we can expedite the permits, a New Year’s Eve opening would be an excellent way to announce things. You could hire a press correspondent to report from each location.”

“We could do a ball drop in the middle of the dance floor,” I added excitedly.

He smirked at me. “You got this. So tell me what you need me for?”

Crushing my need to want to respond with something completely inappropriate, I concentrated on the business at hand. “To help design the concept to take to investors. I need financial backing for start-up and then eventually for rollout to the other fifty US locations. TSC’s financial position is weak. I know I won’t get it without a solid business plan. You’ve done this before. You know what’s needed. And I assume you have the contacts.”

He looked at me but he didn’t say anything. Maybe I was asking too much.

“Jeremy, I realize you have a business of your own to run, so if you don’t think you have the time, I completely understand.”

“I already said yes. I’m just trying to understand what you’re looking for. That’s all.”

The wine steward reappeared with a rolling ice bucket beside him and he went to work removing the cork from the bottle.

Jeremy’s gaze was on me though, not the sommelier, and I couldn’t stop the butterflies that were swarming in my stomach. His stare was hot, intense, hungry; it seemed to be fueled by our business conversation. My stare reflected his with equal vigor.

The steward poured a small amount of the wine in the glass that was already placed in front of Jeremy.

Jeremy swirled, sniffed, and then tasted it. I watched as he sampled the wine all the way to the liquid flowing down his throat, and the eroticism of the moment didn’t escape me.

I was completely turned on.

He nodded to the steward, who then in turn poured the wine in my glass, and filled Jeremy’s before bowing and departing with, “Enjoy your meal, Mr. McQueen and Miss St. Claire.”

“Mr. McQueen.” I couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out of my mouth.

He gave a dry laugh. “Sounds ridiculous.”

I raised my glass. “It absolutely does not sound ridiculous. I like the sound of your full name.”

His eyes twinkled. “Feel free to call me it anytime.”

•   •   •

Mr. McQueen.

He knew what he was doing. We had spent the meal discussing ideas for Sinners and during dessert, he finally told me about his plans to add restaurants, casinos, horse tracks, country clubs, and someday even hotels and airplanes to Jet Set’s portfolio. His ability to see the pieces of his plan fit together was astounding and by the time I had finished my cappuccino, I was certain I had made the right choice to hire him as consultant to TSC’s new endeavor.

We had yet to discuss how much he was going to charge and when he’d start. “Jeremy,” I said. “We need to discuss your consulting fee.”

Before he could respond, the waiter approached our table. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Mr. McQueen.”

Jeremy looked up. “What is it, Maurice?”

He had learned the waiter’s name when he brought out our first course. I liked the sense of ease he had in getting to know those who would soon be helping him build his empire.

“Your car has arrived.”

“Thank you.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You have a driver for the night?”

He disregarded any hostility in my tone. “No, the Rose Bar has a driver and I thought we’d use the service to get home.”

I’d forgotten about that perk.

He stood and extended his hand.

I stood as well but I didn’t accept his hand. Something struck me as odd. I stepped closer to him and kept my voice down. “Tell me then, why did we take the subway to get here tonight?”

“I told you, I thought it would be the quickest way.”

I stepped even closer. I was so close to him, I thought I could almost hear his heart beating. “Are you sure it wasn’t to test me? Were you trying to figure out if I was the same girl you remembered? The one who would do anything you asked? Were you trying to make sure I wasn’t one of those snobs you used to dislike so much?”

He didn’t say anything and he certainly didn’t deny it.

“Would you have asked Avery Lake to ride the subway with you here?”

His brow furrowed. “She has nothing to do with this.”

“Well, at least you can admit there is a
this
. I hope I passed your test,” I said spitefully and turned and walked down the stairs.

Jeremy was on my heels immediately, only stopping to retrieve our coats. I was already to the door by the time he had them in his hands. He caught up with me on the sidewalk and draped my cape around me.

I was mad and the anger made me hot. I didn’t need my damn coat.

“We’re right here,” he said, pointing to a white four-door Jaguar.

“I’ll find my own way home,” I tossed over my shoulder and kept walking. I considered taking the subway but I wasn’t certain which line to take. We had taken the R to get to the Village but that was from midtown.

His hand gripped my arm. “Phoebe, don’t walk away from me. You can be as pissed as you want at me, but I took you out tonight and I’m going to see you to your door, whether you like it or not.”

“If I don’t want to get in that car, you can’t make me.”

His features hardened. “Don’t bet on that.”

I knew he wasn’t kidding. He’d throw me over his shoulder if he had to; he’d done it before. I knew I’d get in his car but it would be on my terms. I crossed my arms over my chest. “Admit you were testing me.”

His eyes grew stormy. “So what if I was. It’s not like I don’t have good reason.”

Damn him, he was right.

I sighed inwardly, questioning if we really could put the past behind us. “Are you done now? Or is there more you want me to do?”

He held his hand out. “The only thing I want right now is for you to get in the car.”

I didn’t take his hand, but I did get in the car.

The ride to the Upper East Side was quiet. I didn’t look at Jeremy and he didn’t look at me. When we pulled up in front of my apartment building, I got out quickly and slammed the car door behind me. He opened it and followed me. I pretended he wasn’t there. It was childish, but the game he played was childish too and I was still mad.

When we got on the elevator, I was still pretending he wasn’t beside me. But it wasn’t as easy as the walk into my building. He was standing so insanely close and my body hummed at his proximity. It became impossible to ignore him when his fingers slid under my chin and he lifted it. “I know you’re mad at me but I told you I knew you were the same girl you had always been before we got to the restaurant. I was trying to be honest with you.”

I rolled my eyes and jerked out of his hold.

He leaned back against the elevator wall. “I’m leaving for Miami early tomorrow morning. I won’t be back until late Friday night. I’ll e-mail you a list of things we need to accomplish quickly for the club launch but first and foremost we need your property managers to file for construction permits. It’s a remodel, so they can file and we can add the plans as an addendum before each county reviews them.”

“You’re leaving town?” Any remaining anger I was feeling seeped away at the news.

“Yeah, my assistant is running the Miami branch of Jet Set but I have to go back there once a month to sign checks and review operations.”

For some reason, my eyes shot to his mouth. That mouth. I wanted it on mine. I couldn’t stop the wanton desire from flooding me. I wanted his lips on my body. I wanted a lot from him. None of which made sense right then.

“Why? Are you going to miss me?” he teased.

I shook my head no, but it wasn’t at all convincing. The truth was—I
was
going to miss him, but I wasn’t sure I should tell him that. “It’s just that we haven’t finalized our agreement.”