Lace

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Lace Page 7

by Deborah Bladon


  I take another deep breath as I gaze around the room.

  I notice Olivia before she notices me.

  She’s already arrived at the private cocktail reception that’s being held in the lobby. Dressed in a backless black dress and black heels, she’s flawless. Her long dark hair is styled into a knot at the base of her neck.

  She looks elegant, almost regal. It’s no wonder that men are turning in her direction once they catch sight of her.

  I slip the bowtie from around my neck and tuck it into the pocket of my tuxedo jacket. I unbutton my collar for comfort.

  Pushing my hair back from my forehead, I approach Olivia. She’s having an animated conversation with Kate, Jack, and the female client he brought with him.

  He’s banking on the fact that she’ll work with him to invest more of the fortune she inherited from her late husband.

  “I bet you didn’t think you’d ever see me again, Al.”

  The sound of a female voice lures my attention to the left.

  Al.

  It’s the name I sometimes toss out when I meet a woman I envision spending one night with. Back in college, I’d pull a fake name out of thin air, but the effort isn’t worth it anymore.

  Al is impersonal enough that it doesn’t impact me when a woman screams it during an orgasm.

  I take in the woman next to me. She’s blonde-haired, brown-eyed and wearing a tight red dress.

  All signs point to her being a former lover of mine, yet I can’t place her.

  That should embarrass me, but it doesn’t. I have fun. I’m careful and respectful enough to make it clear to the women I sleep with that my true passion is music and I’m not looking for anything serious.

  “That was an incredible performance tonight.” She moves a step closer to me, her perfume floating in the air between us.

  The scent is familiar.

  “Thank you,” I reply out of habit.

  Whenever I was handed a compliment when I first started conducting, I’d push for more. I’d want to know what the person I was talking to felt during the performance. I’d question them about the nuances in the music and how they interpreted them.

  It wasn’t until I realized that most of them had no idea what I was talking about that I switched to a simple ‘thank you’ as a response.

  I glance over at Olivia. She’s turned her attention to a man in a navy blue suit. I can only see his profile, but it’s clear that he’s checking her out from head-to-toe.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” I say gently to the woman next to me.

  I won’t fumble for a name I can’t remember. I won’t offer any hollow remarks about how great it is to see her again.

  I don’t remember her. Pointing that out will only humiliate her.

  “Why are you rushing away?” Her hand grabs hold of my forearm. “We should talk.”

  I look down at her hand and the perfectly manicured black fingernails that are digging into the sleeve of my jacket. Just as I’m reaching to pry her hand free, I catch sight of the tattoo on her wrist.

  It’s an arrow.

  A flash of memories assaults me as I slide my gaze back up to her face.

  Those eyes, the thin lips and that body.

  I might have thought she was remarkable at the time, but now I see why I’ve forgotten her so quickly.

  She’s attractive which is why I picked her up and took her home that night, but there’s nothing about her that stuck with me and implanted itself into my memory.

  I grab her hand in mine and twist it from my arm. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  Her body trembles under my touch but not in the way it did when I was between her legs. This is different. Fear punctuates her movements now.

  “Al.” Her voice is barely more than a whisper. “What’s gotten into you?”

  “You’re a thief,” I seethe. “You fucking stole from me.”

  “What?” She blinks. “What are you talking about?”

  This woman won’t win any awards for her lackluster acting abilities. Her pulse has increased. Her breathing is labored. Small beads of sweat are pooling above her red stained lips.

  “Where the hell is the jersey you took from my apartment?”

  She flashes a smile that I suspect is meant to disarm me. It doesn’t. “I have no idea what you mean.”

  “You left my apartment while I was asleep and you took an autographed Trey Hale jersey.”

  “Me?” She tugs her hand to free it from my grasp, but I’m not letting go. “The only thing I took home with me that night is the memory of how good your big cock felt inside of me.”

  “Jesus. Lower your voice.” I glance over my shoulder at the people passing us.

  I don’t need anyone to hear this shit.

  “What’s your name?” I lean down until I’m face-to-face with her. “Tell me your name.”

  “You don’t remember my name?” She yanks her hand free. “You’re an asshole.”

  “You’re a thief,” I counter as I give the lapels of my jacket a tug to straighten it. “I should call the police.”

  Her hand disappears into her clutch purse to retrieve a tube of lip gloss. “What would you say to them? You have no proof that I took anything that belonged to you.”

  “You took it.” I exhale harshly. “What did you do with it?”

  “What did you do with my panties?” She applies the lip gloss before tossing it back into her purse. “I forgot a brand new pair of panties at your place. Can I stop by and pick them up or are you keeping them as a souvenir to remember me by?”

  “I threw them in the trash.” I hold back a smile. “The only thing memorable about you is your penchant for taking things that don’t belong to you.”

  “Fine.” She glares at me. “If you take me home with you tonight I’ll show you just how memorable I can be. In exchange, I’ll give you back the jersey.”

  I study her face. I don’t know what I saw in her that night. She’s cute, but there’s nothing remotely unique about her.

  I lean in closer to her, lowering my voice. “You’re proposing that if I fuck you again, you’ll give me the jersey back?”

  She nods. “Anyway you look at it, you win. You get me and your jersey.”

  Shaking my head, I work to control the urge to laugh in her face. “I’ve had my fill of you. Keep the jersey. I’m not interested.”

  The corners of her lips dip into a frown. “What?”

  “I’m not interested,” I repeat in a low tone.

  “I bought a ticket for this just to see you.” She rubs her forehead. “It was expensive. So was this dress and these shoes weren’t cheap. I even bought a new pair of panties just for you.”

  “Your loss.” I brush past her. “If you’ll excuse me, there’s someone I need to talk to.”

  I take a step toward where Olivia was, but she’s gone.

  I look around the room and curse under my breath when I don’t spot her anywhere. That one-night stand I just finished talking to might have cost me more than an autographed jersey. She may have stolen my chance to talk to the woman I can’t stop thinking about.

  Chapter 17

  Olivia

  “I’m telling you, Liv, I don’t think she’s his date.” Studying herself in the mirror, Kate brushes a strand of hair from the side of her face. “He looked pissed off.”

  I did catch the expression on Alexander’s face before we left the lobby to use the restroom. He wasn’t smiling at the blonde who he was holding onto. His eyes were intense and his lips were set in a firm line.

  He didn’t notice Kate and I as we breezed past him on our way here.

  “It doesn’t matter.” I shrug off her comments. “We can leave. Do you want to head to a club?”

  Her gaze drops to the black lace dress she’s wearing. “I’m not ready to bail yet. We put on our Sunday best for this thing. I say we head back out there, drink another glass of champagne and mingle.”

  It’s the last thing I want to d
o.

  I had a long day at work. I intended to leave early so I’d have extra time to prepare for tonight, but a last minute emergency at the boutique on Fifth Avenue kept me there until almost six o’clock which meant I had to rush home, shower and get myself together so we could be here by seven.

  It’s not uncommon for there to be an issue on a Friday afternoon but this one was catastrophic. The inventory for our one-day-only sale tomorrow hadn’t shown up by three p.m.

  I spent the next two-and-a-half hours on the phone tracking it down. It’ll be delivered just after midnight. That means Steph and her employees have to pull an all-nighter to get everything set up before the store opens at nine a.m. sharp.

  There’s a gnawing pang of guilt inside of me that keeps telling me to get my ass down there to help.

  Any other night I would have, but I wanted to be here tonight. I was excited to watch Alexander lead the orchestra and he did it with graceful precision.

  I was in awe as I watched the movement of his hands, his arms and his entire body as the musicians kept their eyes pinned to him.

  I could feel the music enveloping me, flowing through me. Kate was just as captivated as I was. Even my cousin, Trey, was mesmerized by the performance, as were Buck and his ex-wife.

  “Stop thinking about Alexander and that woman.” Kate playfully pinches my bicep. “He’s bound to attract a lot of attention tonight.”

  I know that she’s right. This is his opening night. The sheer volume of the applause when he was introduced was deafening.

  I’d never heard of Alexander Donato before he walked into the boutique, but apparently, a lot of people know exactly who he is.

  “Let’s go find Trey,” I suggest as I adjust the front of my dress. “I haven’t had a chance to talk to him tonight.”

  “As long as I have a glass of champagne in my hand, I’ll talk to whoever you want me to.”

  I link arms with her as we start toward the door.

  I may never experience another evening like this, so I need to embrace every minute of it, even if I don’t see Alexander before the night is over.

  ***

  I spot Trey as soon as we exit the washroom. He’s standing next to a blonde haired woman in a black dress. She has a breathtaking strand of pearls around her neck.

  My cousin may have arrived alone to the performance, but something tells me he won’t be leaving by himself.

  “Livi, come here,” Trey calls out, motioning me over. “There’s someone you need to meet.”

  I glance across the lobby to where Alexander was standing with the woman in the red dress, but he’s not there anymore.

  Maybe what I mistook for anger was a prelude to passion and they’ve already left.

  “You visit with Trey,” Kate says as she motions toward the right. “I’m going to hunt down another glass of champagne.”

  “I’ll catch up with you in a few minutes?”

  Her eyes search my face. “Take your time and enjoy yourself. Find me when you can.”

  I nod and continue making my way toward Trey and the blonde woman, weaving around people as they move past me.

  “This is my cousin Olivia.” The words are out of Trey’s mouth before I’m in front of him. “Olivia, this is Phoebe Costa.”

  I take the woman’s left hand in mine when she offers it. My eyes hone in on the simple gold band on her ring finger.

  Trey has always been protective of me, but that works both ways. I subtly point out what I just noticed. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Costa.”

  Her smile is bright and bold. “My students call me that. It’s Phoebe.”

  “You’re a teacher?” I drop her hand and return the smile. “What do you teach?”

  “Third grade.” She sighs. “I love it.”

  I thought about teaching when I was in high school, but business lured me in. I’ve never looked back.

  “I’m so happy that I have a chance to thank you.” She glances over at Trey. “My husband and I still can’t believe what you two did for our son.”

  My gaze slides to my cousin. I furrow my brow because I feel lost.

  Trey comes to my rescue immediately. “Phoebe is Alvin’s mom. She’s Alexander’s sister.”

  The pieces of the puzzle fall together instantly. This woman is the mother of Alexander’s nephew.

  “Alvin,” I say her son’s name quietly. “I’m so happy that everything worked out for him. Trey is the one to thank. He’s the one who stepped up to bat and saved the day.”

  They laugh in unison at my lame attempt at a baseball joke.

  “What have we here?” Alexander’s raspy voice weakens my knees as he approaches from behind me.

  I look over my shoulder and lock eyes with him. He gives me a wicked smile.

  “You were brilliant up there tonight, Alex.” Phoebe’s words draw my attention back to her. I see pride beaming in her eyes as she looks at her brother.

  “You were,” Trey chimes in. “I admit I wasn’t a fan of the symphony before tonight, but I’m impressed.”

  “Thanks, Trey,” Alexander says as he steps into place next to me. “I’ll never win a World Series, but I get the job done.”

  Phoebe’s smile widens. “I’ve had a blast, but I need to get home. My mother-in-law is watching Alvin tonight and I’d like to spend time with both of them before he goes to sleep.”

  “The driver who brought you is waiting to take you home.” Alexander types something into the phone he just pulled from his jacket pocket. “He’ll be waiting for you right where he dropped you off.”

  Phoebe takes a step forward to embrace her brother. “Tonight was magical, Alex. Thank you for everything.”

  He kisses her square in the middle of the forehead. “It wouldn’t have been complete without you here.”

  “I wouldn’t have missed this for anything,” she whispers back. “Call me tomorrow.”

  “I’ll walk you to your car,” Trey offers as Phoebe takes a step back. “I’m going to hit a bar in Times Square for a few beers with some teammates.”

  I watch them head out, acutely aware of how close Alexander’s body is to mine.

  His hand finds the small of my back sending a rush of goose bumps over my skin. “You look beautiful tonight, Olivia.”

  I look up and into his eyes. “Thank you.”

  His gaze slowly travels over my face. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

  I swallow past the lump in my throat. “I am. It’s been a night to remember.”

  He leans in until I can feel his lips brush against my ear. “It’s been the start of a night to remember. The best is yet to come.”

  Chapter 18

  Olivia

  There’s a promise laced into his words, but there’s hesitation in his eyes and his touch.

  His hand is still resting on the small of my back, but his gaze is searching mine for something. There’s a question there that he wants to ask me. I sense it.

  “Alexander!” A man’s voice startles us both enough that we pull apart.

  Alexander rakes his hand through his hair, causing the strands to take their own liberties. He doesn’t look as put together as he did on stage. He’s imperfect now, in the most enticing way.

  “This is only going to take a minute, Olivia.” He looks over at two older men in black suits approaching us. One is waving frantically, while the other follows closely on his heel. “That’s my music teacher from grade school and his husband. I invited them tonight. I need to spend a few minutes with them.”

  I smile. “He must be so proud of you.”

  “He taught me a lot.” He moves his hand to touch my forearm. “He taught me to respect music, to honor its unique voice. I wouldn’t be where I am today without him.”

  I inch back when the two men reach us. The one who was waving frantically takes Alexander’s hand, patting him on the bicep. “Would you look at you? I always knew this was your destiny.”

  “All thanks to you, Chris.” Alexander sm
iles at him before he turns to the other man. “It’s good to see, Wayne.”

  “You too, Alexander.”

  I start to inch backward on my heels, realizing that this is a private moment that I shouldn’t be witnessing.

  “This is Olivia Hull.” Alexander shoots me a smile. “Olivia, this is Wayne Rollington and my hero, Chris Morgenson.”

  I shake both men’s hands, wondering if they’ve jumped to the incorrect conclusion that I’m more to Alexander than an acquaintance.

  “I got your text message earlier.” Chris shoves both hands into the pockets of his pants. “I have to say that I didn’t know if you’d want to help us out, Alexander, but I’m grateful.”

  “Me too,” Wayne adds. “We didn’t know what to do until you came along.”

  “It’s not a problem,” Alexander says brusquely. “We’ll work out the details via text.”

  Chris nods as if he’s reading between the lines. “That’ll work.”

  I bow my head. Whatever they are discussing is private. It’s not meant for my ears.

  These men don’t know me, so I’m not surprised that Alexander feels the need to keep the conversation limited to the three of them.

  “We won’t keep you two.” Chris squeezes Alexander’s shoulder. “You’ve done well for yourself, Alexander.”

  “You had a hand in that.”

  Chris laughs. “I taught you the basics. You took that knowledge and ran with it.”

  “We’ll be in touch.” Wayne extends his hand to Alexander and then me. “It was good to meet you, Olivia.”

  “You too,” I say softly as they walk away.

  Once they’re out of sight, Alexander’s hand is back on the small of my back.

  His touch ignites something within me. I know he can feel it.

  “I don’t want another interruption.” His voice is low and rough. “Let’s get out of here.”

  I suck in a trembling breath. “You want to leave?”

  “I need to leave,” he corrects me. “I want to be alone with you.”

 

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