James, Sherry - [Studs For Hire 02]

by Woman In Charge (lit)

  Shit. Yeah, he'd been an idiot to let his heart do the talking. His track record was proving once again he had a way of picking women.

  Alex glanced at his watch and saw he was twenty minutes behind schedule. Damn, he didn't have time to debate or argue any more. Grabbing his coat and suitcase from the couch, he headed for the door without looking back. His gut clenched, wondering if he could come back.

  This is what he got for wanting one more kiss.

  * * * *

  "Stupid. Stupid. Stupid,” Casey grumbled as she stared at herself in the bathroom mirror after hearing the outer hotel room door shut. Alex was gone. Just like that, poof, he was gone.

  Grabbing her brush from her purse, she worked the bristles through her hair. Hair that had been caressed and tangled in the throes of lovemaking.

  "Arrgh.” She tossed the brush down onto the vanity and splashed cold water on the face, trying to forget all the stupid mistakes she'd made in her life.

  "Like that's ever going to happen. You'd think I'd learn, but no, I just keep on making one right after the other."

  What the hell was the matter with her? Why did she have to be so dumb as to fly off the handle and get all pissy with Alex? It wasn't his fault he had to leave for a few days. She understood where he was coming from—that in order for his business to survive and be successful it was necessary to juggle more than one job at once. She and her business partners strived for the same luck with Studs for Hire.

  Then why did she have to act like an idiot? Turning off the faucet, she reached for a towel and scrubbed her face dry. Their night together had been amazing. They'd connected not only physically, but emotionally, she was sure of it. Her weak body proved it.

  Alex was everything she'd pictured him to be as a lover—considerate, gentle, yet strong and forthright. He'd made her feel complete.

  Completely what? Sexually satisfied? Adored? Loved? Did she dare hope all of the above?

  "Oh, God. I've blown it,” she said to her reflection. With a deep sigh, she raked her fingers through her hair, mussing up the freshly combed strands. “This is just a bad case of the morning after jitters. It has to be. Calm down.” She turned to the shower and cranked the handle to full blast. Steam quickly filled the bathroom.

  Or was it deeper than jitters? Was she letting her past step in where it wasn't welcome? Messing up her life, again?

  Or had Alex left on an empty promise just like her father had all those years ago? With her past history, Casey was more than a little gun-shy. Frank Burrows had left on a devout promise to return, he'd told her as much as he threw his suitcase into the backseat of his car—claiming he just needed a few days, then he'd be back and all would be right in the Burrows house.

  And Casey, in her desperate desire for a normal, loving father, had believed him. It had been Christmas time after all.The season of miracles, of perpetual hope.

  Only later would she realize how naive she'd been to take him at his word on that cold, snowy night. She'd stood, her feet freezing in the snow, white fluffy flakes swirling across the yard as she watched his taillights fade to a distant glow down their street, then disappear all together.

  After months had turned into years of waiting for his headlights to announce his return, she'd given up and faced the fact he'd lied. He wasn't coming back.

  And that's what the scared the hell out of her now. It wasn't the fact that Alex had left. It was the possibility that he might not come back. Men in her life had a habit of promising the world then bailing when things got personal, complex, or when they decided she wasn't good enough. The cycle had started with her father, and had worked its way through a slew of boyfriends.

  But Alex wouldn't lie. He wouldn't deliberately deceive her. He wasn't like her father—she wanted so desperately to believe that.

  The rational side of her brain told her he would return, that he wouldn't quit the job, forfeit his paycheck, or abandon her. Yet, her father had sacrificed his job, his wife, and five kids for his crazy ideas. If a family wasn't enough to hold a man, how could she expect a set of blueprints and a single night of passion to be?

  She tugged loose the bed sheet she'd draped around herself and stepped under the hot, soothing spray of the shower. Letting her head fall back, the water hit her face and rivulets slipped down her neck, her arms, and legs. All the places Alex had kissed and touched like no man before him had done.

  Her heart ached for what had and hadn't been, and the uncertainties that had plagued her life for so many years. She wanted to push them aside and believe in Alex, believe that he would return.

  But her father had promised to come back, and look what that got her—a lesson in the harsh reality that some men made promises with the intent of breaking them.

  Alex had made no promises.

  God, she hoped her instincts about him were right, and her logic was wrong.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Later that morning Casey pulled into Heather's driveway to find it full of minivans plastered with television station and newspaper logos on their sides.

  "Looks like Heather's up to her old tricks,” Casey mumbled as she braked and looked for a place to park. For the first time that morning, she was thankful Alex wasn't here. He'd have a fit if he could see all the news media.

  After some creative driving, she managed to squeeze into a parking spot, cut the engine, and pray her Mazda wouldn't be besieged with door dings.

  In spite of her current grumpy mood, Casey was thrilled to see the media crush. She needed a serious distraction. Since her and Alex's little episode bright and early this morning, she'd consumed three caffeine loaded cappuccinos and devoured two large, stop-your-heart, chocolate doughnuts. If she kept this pace up, she'd need someone to pull her off the ceiling today, and pry her into her clothes tomorrow.

  Oh, but what a night it had been—she'd burned off plenty of calories to make room for her doughnut indiscretion this morning. Never before in her life had Casey experienced a night of passion like the one she'd shared with Alex.

  And she'd blown it.

  Another television station van raced up the drive and snuck into a tight space between two others, giving her the continued distraction she so desperately needed. Time to make the most of the situation. Heather's pull with the local media couldn't help but put Studs in the spotlight once more. Exactly what they needed to keep the phones ringing.

  She raced up the walk to the front door and entered the now completely refurbished foyer to the sound of distant voices coming down the hall.

  "Good morning,” Joey the butler said from behind Casey.

  "Oh!” Casey spun around to find the tall, dashing man standing right behind her. “Good morning, Joey. You startled me.” Casey had been working around the mansion for days now, but she couldn't get used to the butler appearing out of the shadows, then disappearing again. “You need to wear a bell or something so a person knows when you're around."

  He cut her a sly smile that suggested he liked it that way. “Sorry about that, miss. May I take your jacket?"

  "Uh, that's okay. I'll keep it with me. It's kind of doubling as my purse."

  "Ready for another full day of work, I see,” Joey said as he took in her chambray shirt, jeans and work boots.

  "Always.” She smiled and hurried toward the stairs, anxious to get to the Elvis Racing Suite and tidy up a bit in case the television crews wanted a sneak peak.

  "Miss Burrows,” Joey said, stopping her on the fourth step. She turned around to face the butler.

  "Yes?"

  "Mrs. Gridmore is most anxious to speak with you. I'll let her know you're here.” He walked away before Casey could utter a single word, leaving her no choice but to wait.

  She didn't have to wait long. Heather raced into the foyer, an amazing feat while wearing high heels and a chartreuse suit with a skin tight skirt. The yellow greenish color made her red hair flame like fire.

  "Casey. Casey. The TV stations are here, and so is the Omaha World He
rald. Where's Alex? They all want to interview him."

  Oh, shit. So much for avoiding the fact that Alex was on his way to Colorado.

  "Uh, he's not here,” Casey said, looking down at Heather from her advantage spot on the stairs.

  "Why not? He should be. There's so much work to be done."

  "He had some business to take care of,” Casey said, saying exactly what he'd suggested.

  "What? What business?” Her eyes narrowed with suspicion.

  "I'm not sure. He ... didn't say."

  "Call him. Call him right now and tell him to get over here immediately.” Heather flung her hands in the air, waving them madly in panic and frustration.

  "I can't do that.” Well, she could. He was driving down the interstate, probably listening to the radio, humming along. But she wouldn't. Not yet. She'd made a fool of herself earlier and she wasn't ready to swallow her pride quite yet. Besides, she didn't want him thinking she had nothing better to do than pine over him all day long.

  "Why not?"

  "He said he didn't want to be disturbed,” Casey said, a tinge of panic creeping into her own voice. Cripes. She despised lying, but what choice did she have? They were in too deep with this job to risk Heather throwing a fit and axing them all.

  "Argh. When will he be here?” Heather asked, her anger mounting.

  Stay cool, Case. The key here is to stay cool. “I'm not sure. He said something about being tied up for ... quite a while.” Okay. Maybe she wasn't really lying, just stretching the truth a little. Stretching the truth wasn't as bad as lying.

  "Of all the rotten timing.” Heather circled the floor, shaking her head. “I need him here today. Preferably now. I'm not sure how long I can stall the reporters."

  "I'm sorry, Heather. I doubt Alex will make it in at all today. Besides, you know Alex isn't much for publicity. I'm sure I can handle any questions they might have. And I'd be happy to show them the progress we've made on the Elvis Racing Suite. If all goes well, I should be done with those rooms soon."

  Heather stopped in her tracks and looked up at Casey, anger now brewing in her eyes. “I want Alex,” she demanded, her teeth clenched.

  Damn. That's all she needed to deal with—a case of spoiled baby syndrome. Casey's own temper flickered, but she wouldn't let it show. No way would she let it show. First she'd try the, kill her with kindness method.

  Casey came down the steps and put a comforting arm around Heather. Ever so slowly she steered the distraught woman in the direction of where the reporters and cameras waited.

  "Unfortunately, it isn't possible for Alex to be here right now,” Casey said in a soothing voice. “But, you're the star of the show anyway, Heather. This is your home. Your Elvis collection. And this was all your idea in the first place. Besides, we both know Alex prefers to work in the background and let his clients shine."

  "That's right. This was all my idea.” Heather gushed with pride, a huge smile on her face. The tactic was working.

  "Yes. And didn't I hear you mention that the Elvis jumpsuit you'd purchased had arrived? You can show it off. Not just anyone in Omaha owns a genuine, authentic Elvis jumpsuit."

  "Of course. It's spectacular,” Heather said, excitement taking over her anger.

  Casey breathed a sigh of relief. “Terrific. Now let's go talk to those reporters."

  * * * *

  Casey blew past Terri's desk at closing time without so much as a howdy-do, and strode down the hallway. She couldn't handle another day like the last two.

  "Hi to you, too,” Terri hollered after her, but Casey didn't stop until she reached Syd's office. The door was closed tight, but that didn't stop her. She gave one quick knock then sent the door flinging open. She found Sydnie bent over backward on the desk, Trevor on top. Like two startled rabbits they jerked and scrambled, sending papers and pencils sailing to the floor. Embarrassment filled their eyes.

  Sydnie pulled down her shirt and tugged at her bra, shifting things back into their proper place.

  "Sorry. I need to talk to you,” Casey said, unconcerned she'd found her friend in a compromising position—an almost everyday occurrence as of late. They were in love.

  Love. Who the hell needed love? It only made a woman's life a miserable, stinking mess.

  "Don't you know how to knock?” Trevor asked sarcastically as he yanked down his T-shirt.

  "I did knock,” Casey said, striding into the room.

  "Then you're supposed to wait until you're invited in, not just blow through the door.” Trevor combed his fingers through his disheveled hair.

  "Yes, well, this is an office. Save your groping for the bedroom,” Casey shot back.

  "Okay. Okay.” Syd held up her hands to signal an end to the confrontation. “Cool it, you two. Case, obviously you're upset about something. What's up?"

  Casey threw up her hands and shot Trevor the best apologetic look she could muster after an exasperating day. “I'm sorry, Trevor. I didn't mean to snap. I'm a little out of sorts."

  "A little—” Sydnie's elbow met Trevor's ribs, cutting his comment short. “Uh, apology accepted. Maybe I can help,” he gasped from his ribbing.

  "I appreciate the offer, but this is a girl problem."

  "Say no more. I've got to be going anyway.” He turned to Sydnie and gave her a long lingering kiss. “We'll finish this later, beautiful."

  "If you insist,” Syd said.

  Casey's heart clenched. Alex had kissed her like that not so long ago, yet it felt like forever. Now, because of her stupidity, everything in her life, once again, was in a mess.

  "I'll see you later at my place for supper?” Syd asked as Trevor headed for the door.

  "You know it.” He winked and disappeared through the door.

  "So what's up with you?” Syd finger-combed her hair and plucked a paperclip out of the curly red strands.

  "I've got a problem.” Casey planted her hands on her hips.

  "So you said.” Syd stooped down to pick up her strewn papers and other miscellaneous office supplies scattered about.

  "Why don't you do yourself a favor and keep the top of your desk empty? Or do you like picking up all that stuff on a daily basis because you and Trevor can't control your urges?” Casey asked, frustrated and really feeling ready to throw something.

  "Okay, let me guess.” Syd tossed a handful of pencils down on the desk. “Your problem is you aren't getting any."

  Casey's cheeks flamed with heat. She turned away, hoping Syd wouldn't guess the truth.

  "Oh. My. God. You are getting it,” Syd gasped.

  Damn. Casey squeezed her eyes shut and counted to ten, searching for patience and strength so she wouldn't take a foray down Looney Road.

  "Was,” she said with a calm she really didn't feel. “I was getting it. Well, got it, for one night at least,” her voice rose a notch.

  "One night? Did this, by chance, happen recently?"

  "Yes. And before you even ask, it was fantastic, mind-blowing, and out-of-this-universe. But none of it matters now because he's been gone for two days. I was the biggest idiot on the planet and now I'm left scrambling to keep things under control."

  "Gone? Who's gone? And please don't tell me it's Alex."

  Syd cut her eyes to Casey.

  Casey cringed. “Okay. I won't."

  "Oh, shit. You and Alex did the horizontal mambo and now he's gone? So soon? What happened? Are you okay? What's Heather going to say? Oh, crap. Have you told her?"

  Casey threw up her hands in frustration. “Stop. You sound like me now. This is hard enough the way it is."

  "Sorry. I had a moment of panic. I think I'm going to need a drink."

  "You? What about me? I'm stuck in the middle of this fiasco."

  "Okay. You're right. Let's be calm and rational about this. Now, have you told Heather?"

  "No. No way.” Casey shook her head vehemently as she paced the carpet. “There was a media frenzy at her house yesterday morning and she was insisting that they wanted to
interview Alex, and well, I had no choice but to make stuff up as I went, trying to appease Heather yet not reveal too much of Alex's part in all this to the media,” Casey gasped. She stopped in her tracks and looked at Syd. “Alex and I had a deal. His name was supposed to be left out of any media hype."

  "But Heather spilled the beans,” Syd stated.

  "Yes. I did a reasonable job of sidestepping their questions about him, though. Hopefully they won't have enough to go on to include him in any of the material. If they do mention his name, he's not going to be happy.” Casey turned to the window and watched the fall leaves spiral down to the ground, giving the grass a mishmash splash of color. “And that's one more reason for him to be unhappy with me,” she said under her breath.