Dirty Damsels (DotComGirls Series Book 1)

by Peggy Jaeger

  There was real concern in her voice, so I bit down softly on my bottom lip and took a cleansing breath.

  “It’s been a busy few weeks,” I said, glancing down at the mild worry etched in her eyes. Decades of Botox treatments made true emotional squinting impossible, but I could detect the fretful moisture floating back at me.

  She squeezed my bicep again. “You work very hard, dear girl. Like I’ve said before, you’re a real credit to your father and mother. They raised you well.”

  My lips lifted at the compliment.

  “You need to take some time for yourself, though,” she added when the elevator doors opened. “All work and no relaxation aren’t good for the mind or body. When was your last vacation?”

  So long ago I couldn’t remember.

  “It’s been a while,” I said while I escorted her to the main lobby waiting area. I wanted to get her settled in a chair or a couch so I could book a hasty retreat before her nephew showed up to claim her.

  Cal wasn’t having any part of my running away, though.

  She patted the couch cushion beside her and said, “Sit with me until Buddy arrives. I haven’t seen you in ages, and I want to catch up.”

  Those two clauses—until Buddy arrives and catch up—ran a river of sheer terror down my spine. Just as I was about to beg off, Calista reached up for my hand and, belying the weak, elderly grand-dame visage she showed the world, yanked me down on the couch next to her. My backside met the fabric in a whoosh.

  “Now,” she folded her hands in her lap, “tell me what’s been going on in your life.”

  I sat backbone straight, perched on the edge of the seat cushion, ready to beat a rapid retreat if the moment called for it.

  Taking a calming breath, I updated her on the business. She cut me off with an impatient wave of her gnarly, manicured hand. “I know you’re doing well professionally, Ella. I want to know what’s new in your life. Have you met any new men? Someone special, maybe?”

  I’d been down this road before with Cal. She wasn’t being nosy for nosy’s sake. She was genuinely interested in every aspect of my life, businesswise and socially. The care and concern I’d seen etched in her eyes in the elevator were more intense now as I stared back at her across the small expanse of the couch.

  My mother had been an only child, my dad as well. After my mom had died and the Evil Bitch came on scene, disregarding and shunning me for her own devil spawn, I had no older female influences to talk to, run things by, or help guide me through those awful late adolescent/young adult events, milestones, and decisions. With Dad’s untimely death and his wife cutting me out of their lives financially, I’d leaned heavily on Nell for emotional and spiritual support. When I’d turned to Cal Burton as a potential client, I never dreamed how much I would grow to enjoy having her in my life as someone I could look to for guidance and female companionship.

  I didn’t want anything to alter our relationship, and I feared if she knew what I’d done with her nephew, the line I’d stepped over, her opinion of me might change dramatically to the point where she would no longer be a shoulder I could lean on for support and direction.

  “Dear, you’re blushing,” Cal said with a knowing lift of her lips. “I knew it. There is someone new. Only a man could make you as distracted as you’ve been today.”

  The heat on my face grew to a burning boil.

  She reached over and grabbed my hand. “I want details, Cynderella.” A quick glance down at her fabulous watch again and she added, “I’ve got about five minutes before Buddy gets here. Start talking.”

  How could I tell her? It was obvious I couldn’t get away without saying something to settle her curiosity. After a quick time calculation, I said, “Well, I did meet someone recently. Someone very nice.”

  “And? Tall? Short? What does he do?”

  “Tall. Very good looking, in an exotic kind of way.” The most incredible eyes I’ve ever seen. “He runs his own business.”

  No lie yet, nothing I could get caught in if push came to shove.

  “And?”

  What else could I tell her? He was amazing in bed? The epitome of every fantasy I’d ever had come to life? He was attempting to take my business and all I’d worked for away from me?

  My sigh was long and, I hoped, dramatic enough for her. “He doesn’t live here, or even close, so there’s really no way it can go anywhere.”

  “Nonsense.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Everyone travels these days. The world is much smaller than it was in my day.”

  “True, but I think he’s kind of married to his job.”

  She stared at me, those crystal blue, worldly eyes of hers peering into my soul. “Ella, if a man is interested, compromises can always be made if both parties are willing. Don’t count this man out too soon.”

  I bit down hard on my lower lip. With a head shake that left no room for denial, I said, “No. It won’t go any further. There are other considerations aside from the geographical ones.”

  “Please don’t tell me he’s married?”

  My head shot back up. “No, he’s single.” The epitome of an eligible and desirable bachelor according to his on-profile. “I Googled him to make sure.”

  Cal let out a yelp of laughter and patted my hand. “In my day, we relied on word of mouth and private investigators to dig up dirt on people.”

  I couldn’t help but smile back at her. “It’s easier now. Nothing’s a secret anymore once it’s been on the Internet.”

  Her beautifully coiffed head shook from side to side. She heaved a melodramatic sigh and said, “How true.”

  Those five minutes were closing in fast, so I smiled and said, “I’ve got another meeting, Cal, I need to run to. I don’t want to be late.” I rose and then bent to kiss her cheek.

  “Well, my ride is here, anyway,” she said as her gaze drifted over my shoulder.

  I turned, and there he was, in all his life-sized magnificence, coming toward us.

  Dressed again in an unbelievably well-cut and fitted black pinstripe suit, baby blue shirt and deep, deep blue tie, his stride ate up the floor beneath him. Shoes polished to a high, buffed sheen peeped from under trouser legs hiding what I knew personally were well-toned, corded calves. Calves I’d run my fingers, toes, and tongue up and down.

  His gaze was trained on his aunt, but as he got within touching distance, it shifted to me. Recognition bloomed in a nano-second, as I heard Calista say, “Buddy, come meet someone very dear to me.”

  Without speaking, his eyes widened, and his hands reached out. It looked as if he were going to take me in his arms. While his smile broadened, I did a quick half turn, stuck out my hand, and pulled one of his into it, stopping him mid-stride. “Ella Jones.” I pumped his hand and squeezed. “Your aunt mentioned you were in town visiting for a few days. It’s nice to meet you. I adore your aunt.”

  I’d plastered what might have been a maniacal-looking smile on my face as I rushed through the greeting, hoping against hope he’d get the hint and not give away the fact we’d not only met, but had done the horizontal nasty together.

  His brow furrowed a little over those gorgeous eyes, but he, thankfully, got my intention. His fingers pressed my hand back and nodded. “It’s nice to meet you.” After a beat he added, “Ella.”

  Hearing my name spoken through those thick, full lips, lips I wanted desperately to press against my own, was almost my undoing. This was a man who’d I’d broken my self-imposed celibacy for and who’d made me remember why I was glad I was born a woman. He was also a man who might be instrumental in the possible downfall of my business.

  But Lord, having him stand so close I could inhale the spicy tang of his aftershave, feel the natural heat he exuded waft over and engulf me, was too much.

  I needed to get away before I either kissed him silly or slugged him with a left hook. Before he could say anything else, I dropped his hand and turned back to Cal.

  “I don’t want to be late,” I told her wi
th another quick buss to her cheek. Before I sprinted away from them, I stole one more glance at Buddy and said over my shoulder, “It was nice meeting you. Enjoy your stay.”

  “I intend to,” was the response I heard. “Thanks.”

  Dear Jesus, how I made my way out of the hotel without falling flat on my face I will never know.

  Chapter Eight

  On the ride back to my condo, all I could think about were those parting words. Were they a threat, as in “I intend to enjoy taking your business apart?” Or something else? And if something else, what?

  I said a half-hearted hello to my doorman, made it through my front door, then totally collapsed onto the couch. I couldn’t have moved if I’d wanted to. And I didn’t.

  The sun started to lose some of its brightness while I sat there. I might have dozed, I didn’t remember. All I did recall was the expression of pure pleasure in Buddy Prince’s eyes when he realized who was waiting with his aunt. At least I wanted to believe it was pleasure at seeing me again.

  The downstairs intercom buzzer broke through the silence in the apartment with a deafening roar.

  “Miss Jones, there’s a guy down here says he wants to see you. Name’s Buddy,” Jake, my doorman, said.

  My heart stopped. Here? Buddy Prince was here? How the hell did he get my address?

  “What would you like me to tell him?”

  I couldn’t put a thought together to answer him. No way was I letting Buddy into my space, that was for sure.

  “Miss Jones?”

  I rubbed my eyes with heels of my hands, did a quick mental run-through, and said, “Tell him I’ll meet him around the corner at Gus’s in about ten minutes, Jake. Okay?”

  “Sure thing, Miss Jones.”

  I leaned my forehead on the door, the desire to pound it against it strong.

  Damn.

  Why me? Why now?

  ***

  Gus’s was a neighborhood coffee shop with diet-annihilating scones and the best brewed coffee in New York. It was a secret, kept close to the vest by the area residents for decades, and because of that was never so crowded you couldn’t get a table or individual service.

  As soon as I walked in, I spotted Buddy sitting in a corner booth, a mug in front of him. The jolt of seeing him again, knowing what we’d done together, how he’d made me come alive after almost a year of walking around like a dead, shriveled crone, electrified me. No man had ever, ever, affected me like this. Before I could think to slink away unnoticed, his gaze found mine, and as he’d done in the bar the night we’d met, he waved and stood.

  “I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he said when I got to the table. A weird sense of déjà vu crept up my neck as I slid into the booth without touching him. Once I was settled, he sat back down across from me.

  “I debated with myself about whether I should,” I admitted.

  The waitress shot over to the table, took my coffee order, and left. Silence shifted between us, until I broke it. “How did you find out where I live?”

  “Aunt Cal. She was worried when you left so abruptly. When I dropped her off at a cocktail party, she ordered me to make sure you were okay, gave me your address and, well, here we are.”

  “Oh.”

  You could have sliced the air around us, it was rife and thick with tension, silence, and in my case, worry.

  “Ella,” Buddy finally said, on a sigh. He folded his hands on top of the table, and a quick, hot flash of them trailing across my naked skin popped into my head. “At least now I know your name.”

  My gaze shot to his face, registered the wry, almost shy smile across his lips.

  “You knew my name.”

  “No, I didn’t. It was only after I woke up the next morning that I realized it.”

  I frowned. “But you said my name. A few times that I can remember.”

  His own eyebrows lifted. “No, I didn’t.”

  “You called me Cynderella in the penthouse and then at Diablo.”

  Shock can take many forms on a face. Buddy’s was the classic kind: jaw dropping, mouth falling open, eyes bugging wide with disbelief.

  “Your name is Cinderella? For real?”

  I get this reaction a lot. “It’s spelled with a ‘y’ but, yes. If you didn’t know it, why did you call me that?”

  With a shake of his head, he trailed a hand down his temple to rest on the back of his neck. “Sweetheart, the first time I saw you, you were cleaning the fireplace, and your cheek was covered in soot. I wiped it away with my handkerchief. Calling you Cinderella was a joke, said in the moment.”

  A little niggle of uneasiness danced in my tummy. “What about at the club?”

  His beautiful mouth twitched at the corners. “I wasn’t certain it was you until I got closer. The name just popped out. You never told me your real name. Not once.”

  He was right. I fidgeted a little in my seat, and my cheeks went hot. I was saved from having to reply when the waitress brought me an empty mug and a pot of coffee. Wordlessly, she filled the mug, put the pot on the table, and then left us alone again.

  “Why did you run away before, at the hotel?” he asked, while I filled my coffee with milk and sweetener. “Cal was worried about you. She wanted us, as she put it to me, to get acquainted.”

  I took a bracing sip of the hot coffee and let it settle down into my stomach before replying. I knew the heat on my cheeks wasn’t only from the steamy brew.

  “Did you tell her we’d already met?” I asked, unable to keep the nervous pitch from my voice.

  “No. From the killer grip you gave me, I figured you didn’t want her to know.”

  Relief washed through my system. “Thank you.”

  “You didn’t answer my question. Why did you run away?”

  I took another gulp of my coffee and placed the cup back down on the table. “The easiest answer is because I was embarrassed.”

  “At seeing me again?”

  “Yes.”

  “Because we…” He let the sentence dangle, the implication more than clear.

  I couldn’t meet his stare any longer as mortification did a feisty fandango through me. I dropped my gaze to my coffee and nodded, my head as heavy as if I carried the weight of the world on it.

  Buddy reached over and took one of my hands in his, rubbed my knuckles in those erotic little circles as he’d done in the bar. Total and complete awareness of him shot straight to my girlie parts.

  “I’m making you nervous again, like last time, aren’t I?”

  His sexy voice was streaked with heat, and I finally looked up to see his lips twisted into a laconic grin.

  “Yes.”

  He tugged on my hand and held it between both of his. Warmth, total and calming, seeped into my soul.

  “You have no need to be nervous or embarrassed because we slept together.”

  “Sleeping had nothing to do with it,” I mumbled.

  Twin, corrugated dimples filled his cheeks. “No, not much, you’re right. But we’re adults, Ella. I’m not sorry about the night you and I shared, not in the least. It was amazing. I’d hoped you thought so, too.”

  Because it was so easy to look at him, I did. His little admission did wonders for my ego. Without thinking, I said, “I did.”

  His grin grew, deepening the dimples. I had an unquenchable urge to lean forward and run my tongue through those grooves, down his hard, hot jaw, across his full neck… “I’ve never done that before.” The admission came out of nowhere and proved just much how this guy turned my brain to burnt toast. I had no filter whatsoever.

  The corners of his eyes tightened.

  “Had sex with a guy I just met, I mean,” I said, feeling the need to clarify. “It’s not me. Not something I do. Ever.”

  His face relaxed, and he squeezed my hand in both of his. “I won’t lie and tell you I haven’t either, but I will admit this was the first time I’ve ever woken up the next day and regretted being alone.”

  My ego practically jumped
out of my body.

  “When I reached out and you weren’t there, I was lonely,” he said. His perfect teeth peeked back through his smile when he added, “I woke up wanting you all over again. And you were gone.”

  My heart quite literally stopped with his admission.

  “I couldn’t figure out how to find you.” He dragged in a breath. “I didn’t know your name, so I couldn’t ask the concierge what room you were staying in. All I knew was you’d cleaned my aunt’s condo. I wanted to pump her for any details I could, but Aunt Calista puts the NIS to shame with her interrogation techniques. She’d question me senseless about why I wanted to know and wouldn’t give up unless satisfied with the answer.”

  “Truth,” I said, having been on the other end of a grilling from her once or twice. I stared down at the hands holding mine and then back up to capture his gaze. “You really didn’t know my name? You’d never heard it before?”

  “Not until Aunt Calista introduced us. I swear.”

  I cocked my head, still not convinced even though I desperately wanted to be. I tried another tactic. “Cal told me you’re here on business.”

  “I am.”

  “Care to tell me what kind?”

  He squinted at me for a moment then shrugged. “An old friend of my father’s requested some help.”

  “With what?”

  “He’s interested in a few investment and buyout opportunities.”

  “And he needs your help with it?”

  “No, he doesn’t need my help. But he asked, so,” another shrug, “I stopped over for a few days on my way home to D.C.”

  “Do you know anything about the businesses your father’s friend is interested in? Anything at all?”

  His eyes narrowed further, and he cocked his head to match mine. “Why the questions, Ella?”

  I didn’t answer him directly. “Is one of those businesses Dirty Damsels?”

  His eyes widened again with the name. “How do you know that?”

  I took a deep breath. “Did you happen to notice the logo on my shirt when we were in the condo?”

  “Logo? No.” He shook his head. “All I remember seeing, all I could concentrate on, was the beautiful, desirable woman in front of me.”