Okay, so maybe he would pursue something more. Hadn’t Cooper said she’d been solo for quite some time? Hadn’t he himself been entirely too celibate for longer than was healthy?
“Sebastian?”
“Call me Bas.”
“Um…okay. Bas.”
“Yes?”
“What are you going to do with this information, assuming you get what you’re looking for?”
“Use it.”
“For a book? Something else?”
He shook his head. “I hadn’t actually thought of that, but I wouldn’t rule out the idea. Truthfully, I’m doing this for my own personal education.”
“Meaning you’re seeking a serious relationship at some point?”
“Lover, significant other, wife. Yes.”
“I would think women would be beating down your door.”
“Quantity is not the issue. Quality is. I’m searching for what my parents had. Which in my naiveté as a younger man, I thought all parents had.”
“They had a good relationship?”
“Much more than that. My parents were, and you’ll have to pardon the cliché, soul mates. The two of them completed each other. They were married forty-five years, and were crazier about each other when my father died than the day they met. That’s what I want. A partner for a lifetime. A best friend. The whole enchilada.”
“Tall order.”
“Believe me, I know. Hence my counteroffer.”
She gave him a half smile. “I’ve never been on the receiving end of such a strange request.”
Their drinks arrived right then, and Sebastian handed the vodka to Gaea. “So we have a deal?”
She took the glass, sipped, closed her eyes, and opened them again several heartbeats later. “We have a deal.”
He toasted her, the clink ringing out clearly against all the muddled noise around them. “Excellent.” Bas brought his own drink to his lips, then hesitated. “So when do we begin?”
“Monday.”
“The W hotel?”
She nodded.
“Good. I’ll check in that afternoon.”
Gaea’s eyes widened. “Hold on there, cowboy. Check in?”
He downed his whiskey, ready for this. “Well, sure.”
“No, no, no. You’re not staying at the hotel. Just appearing when needed.”
He gave Gaea his most innocent, sincere smile. “That would be a royal pain the in the ass for both of us. Much easier to just be there. But don’t worry. You have nothing to fear. I know the suites there and I’ll sleep on the couch.”
She gave him an “I’m not sure about this” look.
“Check with Cooper. He’ll tell you I’m harmless. Besides, I don’t want anything getting in the way of the research. And sleeping together would really mess things up.”
Her eyes softened. The internal debate went on for a few more seconds, then she exhaled softly. “It would keep Arnold from breathing down my neck.”
Bas nodded. “This is going to be great.”
“That’s highly unlikely. I’ll be happy if we survive.”
“Come on. We’ll knock ‘em dead.”
Gaea shook her head, causing her hair to shimmer in the light. He hadn’t lied when he’d said sleeping with her would mess things up. But maybe he could ask all of his questions real fast.
Chapter Three
“Sebastian, sweetheart, I love you, but isn’t this just a bit weird, even for you?”
Bas smiled up at his mother. “Probably. But then again, it’s your fault.”
Jillian Fuller put down her mug of tea and gave him a look. “And how did you come to that conclusion?”
“If you’d just talk to me and tell me what I need to know, then I wouldn’t have to rent myself out to strange women.”
“We’re talking right now.”
“But not about what I want to know.”
She took another sip and leaned back in her beat-up on lounge chair. They were on her patio, looking out at her garden, the pride and joy of her life. Aside from him, of course. She grew all of her own fruit, vegetables, flowers, and anything else she wanted to try her hand at. For the most difficult vegetation, there was a small greenhouse. The rest just gave in and grew, somehow knowing his mother wouldn’t let up until they sprouted. Gardening Magazine had done a profile on her green thumb. Of course, it hadn’t hurt that she was so well known for her literary work, but still. The article had been about the garden.
“We’ve talked about this numerous times,” she said. “Some things have to be discovered. Not taught.”
“Even when I have inside connections to one of the world’s leading experts right here?”
“There are not experts on relationships, honey. Only wild guesses.”
“I suppose that’s what you teach at the college?”
“Of course.”
“So if there are no answers, what is the point of searching?”
“Because the only answer is the search.”
“Right.”
“You’ll see. One of these days, you’re going to meet someone who will turn your world upside down, and then you’ll understand.”
Bas leaned forward, so frustrated he could yell. “Understand what?”
“That you don’t need to understand.”
He raised his hands as if to go for her throat and growled at her. “You are the most ornery woman.”
“I’m a peach and you know it.”
“Fine. You’re a peach. I just hope you know that when I end up old and alone, a bitter, senile man, you’ll bear the blame.”
“Yes, pumpkin. So tell me about her.”
Bas smiled, remembering his meeting with Gaea, the look of her.
“She’s a very nice-looking woman. Sort of exotic in an old-fashioned way. Like a pin-up calendar model.”
“Playboy?”
He shook his head. “No, more like a nineteen-fifties vamp. Damn.”
“Okay, so we know you like that part of her, now what about the assets about the neck?”
“Those parts are just as interesting.”
Her eyebrows went up. “Really?”
Bas reached over to the little hand-painted table where, next to the fruit bowl, he found a zucchini-carrot muffin. Homemade, of course. His mother loved to cook what she grew. After an enormous bite and some coffee, he said, “She’s brilliant. Running a media campaign for a major new fashion designer. She’s all career and determined not to stop until she reaches CEO status.”
“And that’s interesting how?”
“Come on, Mom. Not everyone can be as well balanced as you.”
“No, but they can be a little balanced. I already assumed she has no real life. If she had, surely, she wouldn’t have had to hire you.”
“Yeah, she’s pretty focused. But that works in my favor. I figure she’s not going to get coy with me, or have a secondary agenda. I’ll ask. She’ll answer.”
“And what if she doesn’t have the answers?”
“I’ll keep looking. But at least I’ve tried.”
Jillian sighed as she ran her hand through her softly graying hair. “I think I should have said no when you told me you wanted to become a Navy Seal.”
He chuckled. “Mom.”
“I’m serious. I know your father and I encouraged you to go out and to learn from experience, but I think those Seals encouraged you far more. Just don’t get your hopes up too high, okay?”
“Look, even I know there aren’t going to be direct answers to everything. But there are going to be clues. Directions. Hints. I think, if I can just talk about it with no games, I can move to the next level.”
“Don’t you need someone on this level to be able to move on to the next?”
“I’m hoping this will help me find the sort of woman I can move with. Even you have to admit I’ve done a lousy job in my previous selections.”
“Oh, honey. Lousy it putting it lightly. But that’s mostly because you let your little head
do your thinking for you.”
“It’s a good thing I stopped being embarrassed by you a long time ago.”
“I know. And I appreciate your acceptance.”
“So, you’ll take care of Harley?”
“The dog hates me, but yes, I will.”
He leaned over, kissed her cheek, then went back to his muffin. “Thanks.”
“And you’ll fill me in on what you learn?”
“Of course.”
“Can’t wait.”
He stood. “I need to run. If you need me, I’ll have my cell.”
“Ok, honey. Take some muffins.”
He grinned. “I planned to.”
“Take some vegetables and fruit, too.”
“I don’t think so.”
He kissed his mother on the cheek and headed for the kitchen where above the sink, was a picture he’d taken years ago of his father and mother. They looked so damn happy.
The hotel suite was absolutely breathtaking. It was all chocolate, pale green, and high deco right down to the crown molding. Huge by any standard, but especially for uptown Dallas, it had to carry a price tag that would make her cringe. If she’d made the reservations, she’d have been several floors down in a single, but that wouldn’t have been the perfect setting for seduction, would it?
Arnold had definitely lost his mind, and for the first time since she’d met with Sebastian, she felt fine about the insane bargain she’d agreed to.
Her original plan still held true—that if Arnold saw she was involved, witnessed it with his own eyes, he’d back the hell off. What was new to the equation was Bas’ request, and worse, her attraction to the man.
She waited while the bellman put her large suitcase on the stand, then she tipped him extravagantly, fully expecting to have to work the hotel staff to the limit during her stay. He thanked her, gave a slight bow, and left her to unpack.
Once alone, she fought the urge to lie down on the comfortable-looking couch, to rest her head on the assembly of pillows and sleep for a couple of days. Instead, she unzipped her bag and went methodically through the contents, storing them in her typical organized fashion. Halfway through the task, she remembered that she was going to be sharing the space. Not only did that make her pause, it led her to open the door to the mini-bar and pull out a small bottle of Merlot.
Sharing a room with a total stranger. That had to be right up near the top of her own personal list of mentally defunct moves. Okay, so Cooper vouched for him, but what did that mean? This was the most important week of her life, and she couldn’t afford to take her eye off the goal. So what did she do? Hire the most attractive man she’d met in years to pretend to be her lover. No distraction there. No, sir.
The issue was, he fit her criteria to a tee. Which was definitely a rarity. She’d never met a man who had it all—the intelligence, the wit, the looks, the good taste in clothes, the strong hands. Her only hope was to get to know him. No way was he everything he appeared to be. Impossible.
He was undoubtedly vainglorious. Give his project, probably obstinate, too. All she had to do was play it cool until he let the real him show, then the problem would be solved. It’d better be solved.
She poured her wine into one of the glasses set on a silver tray by the wet bar, then sank down into the gray satin couch next to the window. Her view was of Victory Park, but she stared without seeing it as she thought of the daunting tasks that lie ahead.
Tomorrow started the festivities, beginning with a makeover party for seven lucky radio listeners, to be held at Neiman Marcus. All using Marcella Girardi fashion, of course. Tomorrow night was the grand-opening party at the Ghost Bar, one of the most highly sought after night clubs in the city. Then there was the dessert-and-jazz party at the Reunion Tower, a press party at Sambuca’s, Geocaching at the botanical gardens, a fashion show at the hotel, and finally, the final party slash banquet at the hotel.
By the time it was all said and done, she’d be ready to be institutionalized, but in the meantime, she had to make sure the celebrities were catered to, the models showed up and acted like civilized human beings, make sure the media was happy, and that every detail of every event was taken care of with no muss and utterly no fuss.
Thank goodness for Kallie. And Kallie’s troops. Gaea was extremely lucky to have them. And she mustn’t forget that every event had a professional planner in charge of it. Which did comfort, but didn’t alleviate the final responsibility, which lay directly on her shoulders. Sure, it was Arnold who signed the cheeks, but everyone in the business knew who was really in charge.
This was her ticket. Her chance to soar. If she screwed it up, she doubted her career would recover. If she succeeded, she’d be well on her way to achieving her dream.
Which meant there was no room at all for Sebastian in any other capacity but paid help. Maybe it wasn’t too late to tell him she’d changed her mind. She could call up an escort service and hire some delicious hunk of maleness, preferably someone gay, who would be silent for a fee.
She’d put Sebastian’s phone number in her purse, and as she rose to get it, there was a knock at the door.
She crossed the white marble floor, then looked through the peephole. Arnold. Damn it. After a deep breath, she opened the door, but not very far.
“Arnold, hi. What’s up?”
He grinned at her. That goofy, love-struck smile that made her want to slap some sense into him. “How do you like it?”
She didn’t even bother to pretend that she didn’t know what he referred to. That would only keep him in her presence longer.
“The room is fabulous, but too lavish. My goodness, it must cost a fortune.”
“A couple of fortunes.” He stepped closer, clearly expecting her to let him inside. “But you’re worth it.”
“Thank you,” she said, using the one technique that had warranted any success. A simple response. No embellishment. Arnold had some difficulty coming up with original thoughts.
“We need to talk about tomorrow.”
“We do?”
He nodded. She spotted little drops of perspiration beading his forehead where his hairline used to be. At least he didn’t do the toupee or combover thing. That would have just put her over the edge. As it currently stood, he wasn’t bad-looking. Slightly overweight, not too tall. She used to find him vaguely attractive until he’d changed from wonderful boss to Mr. Horn Dog.
“Yes, you know. Go over the details.”
She gave him her most reassuring smile. “That’s why you hired me, Arnold. To take care of the details. So you don’t have to work in the least. The fashion makeovers are going to be a big hit, and so is the opening party. All you have to do is show up at the Ghost Bar at seven tomorrow night. Which reminds me, I have to go make a couple of calls—”
“Gaea,” he said, planting his foot firmly in the door and using his shoulder to ease himself in. “I have some concerns about the party.”
She wanted to push him right back outside, but thought better of it. This would all come to an end soon, and then she wouldn’t have to worry anymore. In the meantime, however, she wanted to maximize the distance between them, so she closed the door and walked over to the wet bar. “Something to drink?”
“No thanks,” he said, his glee at gaining entrance far too evident on his face.
“You have concerns?”
He immediately adopted a businesslike expression as his gaze shifted to the bedroom door. “What’s our media coverage looking like for this shindig?”
She’d told him before. Written him memos. But she said none of that. “All of the local news stations, E!, Access Hollywood, and Entertainment Tonight.
He nodded. “Sounds great. And what about the celebrities? Are they all confirmed?”
“We’re sending eight limos, but most of the crowd is arriving on their own.”
“Who exactly?”
“Ross Perot Jr., Mark Cuban, Owen Wilson, Troy Aikman, and many more. Should I ask Kallie to
come up here with the list?”
“No,” he said too quickly. “That’s excellent. Just great.”
“But it won’t be excellent if I can’t make the calls I need to, so…” She headed toward the door. He didn’t follow.
“I’m certain the calls can wait a few minutes.”
“No, Arnold, they can’t.”
The expression on his face changed again. This time, the lovesick puppy look. “Gaea, can’t you see what a team we make? Isn’t it obvious?”
“Yes, absolutely. The next week will prove it. We’re going to make Marcella Girardi a household name.”
He walked toward her, holding his hands out as if he meant to touch her, which was simply out of the question. Only he was blocking her easy exit. In order to get around him, she’d have to practically jump over the couch. “That’s not the sort of partnership I’m referring to.”
“There is no other partnership, Arnold.”
“But there should be. Can be.”
“You already have that kind of partner.”
He shook his head as he took those last steps, placing himself so that now she truly was trapped. His left hand touched her forearm. “I don’t. Honestly. I’ve told you before. Cheri is a wonderful mom—”
“I have a partner, Arnold.”
He paused. Blinked. Kept his hand right where it was. “What?”
“A partner. A man. I have someone in my life.”
First a flash of confusion, then hurt, quickly followed by skepticism. “What are you talking about? You don’t date.”
“I don’t talk about dating.”
“You’re always at the office.”
“No, I’m not. I do have a life. Which is private. But there is someone, and it’s serious.”
Skepticism became full-blown disbelief. “Who?”
“You don’t know him.”
“What’s his name?”
“Not that it matters, but Sebastian.”
“Sebastian what?”
Her annoyance was starting to turn into anger. “Fuller.”
“Never heard of him.”
“Not surprising.”
“How did you meet?”
“Back when I was in school.”
“And he just showed up again?”
Exception to the Rules Page 3
