“No Panamera?”
“My sweaty equipment in the toy? Not a chance,” he explained as he opened the door for her. “I save it for hot dates instead.” The man was oozing boyish energy and charm. Keeli found the combination irresistible, falling under his spell, grinning like a lovesick fool.
“So, just where is the usual?”
Rather than answer, Wyatt pulled Keeli against the center console, pushed his hands into her hair and soundly kissed her, thrusting his tongue to taste her moist warmth, sucking gently on her bottom lip and sighing with contentment.
“I missed you last night,” he confessed unabashedly. “You should have been in my bed all night, losing lots and lots of sleep.”
Keeli’s face flamed in response. She chewed her bottom lip and turned to face the front windshield.
How the hell do I respond to that when I agree completely?
Fortunately, Wyatt didn’t seem to expect a response. He maneuvered the SUV into traffic and headed toward her neighborhood. “Revolution Brewing,” he told her, answering her earlier question. “This late on a Tuesday we can usually have most of the place to ourselves. Plus, they have killer burgers. Are you hungry? I am positively famished.”
“Sure, food sounds great. You should be famished; you worked your butt off for three periods without a break. Shouldn’t someone have come in to give you a rest?” Keeli thought with pride that she sounded like someone who knew what they were talking about.
“Oh yeah, definitely. But we were short a few guys tonight.”
They rehashed the game period by period during the rest of the short ride to the brewpub, easily parking the SUV on the street. The manager jerked his thumb toward the corner obviously recognizing Wyatt as a regular.
Keeli and Wyatt made their way through the crowd and to an intimate corner of the large space. They were not the first to arrive and pitchers of beer and plates of wings and large pizzas were magically appearing at the tables before immediately disappearing into the hungry mouths of the men. Refills would be needed soon as the plates emptied in moments.
Between bites of pizza, Wyatt took Keeli around and made introductions to men from both teams as well as their wives and girlfriends. Some were pleasant and welcoming, many sized her up openly and were chilly but unfailingly polite. Keeli had a hard time getting comfortable with the group despite the warm reassurance of Wyatt’s large hand tight around her waist.
Wyatt leaned in regularly whispering phrases like ‘I can’t wait until later’ or ‘we are going to have one hot night’. He regularly trailed little kisses across her cheek or neck. He knew how to get to her, and quickly. Each little touch or whisper warm across her earlobe sent a corresponding clench into her lower belly.
Offering her something other than the fast flowing beer, Wyatt kept Keeli close, pulling her along with him to order her a glass of wine from bar. “Pinot,” he said to the young female bartender, who nodded her understanding, checked Wyatt out thoroughly then went down the bar a few steps to get the wine. She returned quickly with the ruby liquid and a come-hither smile. Wyatt took the glass, ignored the smile, and placed two crisp twenties on the bar, mumbling “keep it” under his breath.
He never even looked at her, and she is very pretty, but really, forty dollars for one drink? That is either some wine or some tip. Keeli, you are out of your league here.
She couldn’t hold her tongue, “Forty dollars for a glass of wine?”
“Nah, but she needs the tip.” He offered nothing further as Keeli felt jealousy snake through her, wondering how Wyatt knew what the woman needed.
Was there a woman he didn’t know? A woman he hadn’t had?
The transaction at the bar just added to Keeli’s feelings of inadequacy. She could see that everyone knew each other, so she felt like an outsider. In addition, the women were all so much more elegant than she was and not particularly interested in getting to know her better.
Wyatt either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Standing close, he was touching her repeatedly. If his hand was not tight around her waist, his arm was about her shoulders. He was constantly pushing a stray curl from her face or making small circles on her palm. It should have been enough to make her not care what other people thought, but this mattered to Keeli. These were Wyatt’s friends and she wanted them to accept her and eventually to like her. She understood that she was new to the group, recognized that they came from different backgrounds, but if she could not bridge this gap with people who wanted Wyatt to be happy, she worried that those who wanted to keep them apart would easily succeed.
This was her proving ground, and so far it was not going well.
Just when she was ready to throw in the towel, working up the nerve to tell Wyatt she wanted to leave, Barb came over, singling her out with small talk before managing to detach her from Wyatt.
“I was resisting bothering you tonight. I mean who wants to talk shop when they are celebrating a win, but I really wanted to ask you about your necklace again.” Barb was being apologetic while still pressing her goal. “Do you sell them or is that a piece you made just for yourself?”
“I sell them,” Keeli responded. “Everything I make is for sale, unless it is a custom piece commissioned by a client as a one-of-a-kind.”
“Would it be rude or inappropriate to ask how much a piece like that costs?” Barb asked, pointing at Keeli’s necklace.
“This piece sells for about $600 plus the chain, which would be priced by length.”
“Well, with that chain for example?”
“With this chain it would be $720, plus tax of course. The state has to get its cut.” Keeli’s heart was racing at the possibility of getting someone in this crowd interested in her designs. They were just the customers she was trying to reach. Still, she held back, allowing Barb to make things happen. She wasn’t here to sell jewelry, but…
“Really?” Barb dragged out the word so that Keeli could not tell if that was a high or low figure in the woman’s mind. Keeli knew it was a fair price considering the cost of the gems alone, and she suspected it was not a figure that would make a dent in Barb’s budget. Again, she held her tongue.
“I would really love to buy it from you.”
“Great,” Keeli was working hard to hide her elation. “It will look beautiful with your coloring.” She calmly offered to send it to Barb along with an invoice as early as tomorrow. She asked Barb for an address, realized she would have to dig for a pen and walked over to the bar to rummage through her hobo bag.
“Oh, I was just planning to take it now. I could give you a check. But perhaps you prefer to wait.” Barb sounded disappointed making it clear to Keeli that she did not intend to wait. Keeli suspected that Barb, and the rest of this crowd, got exactly what they wanted, when they wanted it.
“You could have it tonight, I guess,” Keeli wanted to be accommodating but felt uncomfortable about handing over the necklace. “You would have it by the weekend otherwise,“ she offered instead.
“Oh, the weekend. I would still prefer it tonight.” She was already reaching for her checkbook, writing in the date and amount, not even bothering to get Keeli’s name to include on the check. “You can fill in the rest,” she tossed over her shoulder as she put on the necklace and wandered away without a word of thanks. Keeli noticed with annoyance that there was no tax included. She would have to pay taxes from her profits.
Wyatt rejoined her as Barb walked away, wrapping both arms around her and pulling her close for a scorching kiss
“What was that about?”
“Barb just bought my necklace,” Keeli answered with pride, expecting Wyatt would be excited for her.
Instead he got a thunderous look on his face, lowering his voice to a husky accusation.
“You are using our date to sell to my friends?” he spit the words at her. “How dare you? You need to leave.” When Keeli hesitated, looking at Wyatt with confusion, he grabbed her arm. “You need to leave NOW!”
He
was fuming at her, dragging her toward the door, obviously planning to send her home. He was vibrating with fury.
“She asked me, Wyatt,” Keeli was trying to calm him down, not sure what just happened. “She asked me if it was for sale.” Keeli resisted his strong pull before he pulled her too fast for her to remain upright. “I just said yes, and she bought it. Damn it, Wyatt, stop pulling my arm. You’re hurting me.”
Wyatt pulled up short and Keeli plowed into him. He turned, holding her tight and taking several deep breaths. “I misunderstood. I thought you were using this opportunity to sell your jewelry to my friends.”
“I wouldn’t do that. And frankly, I am hurt that you would think I would.”
“My mistake,” Wyatt conceded without apology. He took another calming breath and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “It is time for us to leave anyway,” he said, suddenly sounding exhausted. The playful hints about their night together were forgotten.
“Yeah, I guess so,” Keeli tried to keep the hurt from her voice.
“Come on, I’ll take you home.”
“I think I just want to walk,” Keeli said now, knowing an argument would ensue with chivalrous Wyatt. “That way you can go back to say your goodnights at least, and finish your beer. You need to unwind with your buddies.”
Surprisingly, Wyatt did not argue. He simply walked her to the sidewalk. There, without discussion, he handed her into a cab, gave the driver two twenties and kissed her briefly on the cheek before shutting the door.
So much for walking.
She was not irritated with his high-handed behavior, Keeli realized. She was too caught up in being confused. She had never seen anger like that, so quick to flair and so quick to dissipate. She had clearly hit some hot button, but he was in no mood to discuss it, and frankly, neither was she.
Keeli sat back in the taxi for the short trip home, realizing that she had made a big sale tonight and should be enjoying the moment. She wasn’t. She was realizing that Wyatt had made no overture toward seeing her again, no effort to be with her for the rest of tonight. What had started out so promising had fizzled in a matter of moments, and she still didn’t understand why.
Shit. Shit. Shit. I have lost him for sure now. Do not dwell on this. Do not dwell on this. It was just a couple weeks of your life – ok, and two years of fantasies, but who’s counting? You can get over him. You knew he would dump you eventually.
Keeli felt the tears flowing down her cheeks before she realized she was crying.
That’s it. Just keep telling yourself you can get over him Keeli, and eventually you will. Dammit though, I think eventually might take a very long time.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Wyatt returned to the bar alone. He looked shell-shocked and still simmered with anger.
“You look awful, man. Who killed your dog?” Tyler approached warily. “Where’s Keeli?”
“She left,” Wyatt barked.
“She left? I thought for sure you were going to get lucky tonight. What the hell happened?”
“I thought so too until I jumped down her throat,” Wyatt admitted freely. “I believed she was using me to sell her jewelry to my friends and you know I will not tolerate that. Now I know that Barb approached her. Keeli was blameless. She makes fantastic stuff; I should have expected someone would notice. I should have celebrated the sale, been proud of her success. Instead I was a dick and threw her in a cab.”
“Wait a sec. How do you know she wasn’t working the crowd, Ivy? She might have been encouraging Barb. It wouldn’t surprise me one bit. It’s not like she fits in here. It is obvious that she needs cash, just look at her.” Tyler planted doubt back in Wyatt’s mind. Was he trying to make Wyatt feel better or warn him off? Either way, the comment did not sit well with Wyatt.
“She fits perfectly,” he defended. “She is smart, funny, talented and beautiful.”
Rolling his eyes a bit in a typical ‘you know what I mean’ expression, Tyler responded simply. “Ivy, she is not one of us and you know it. She isn’t now, she never will be. I think you might be confusing your need to get in her pants with a desire to actually be with her.”
“Fuck you, Tyler,” Wyatt fired at Tyler with a contemptuous sneer. “I never knew what a total snob you were.”
“I’m just saying.” Although he knew Wyatt almost never lost his temper enough to swear, Tyler threw caution to the wind and continued. “She’s no Sloane. She could not be a hostess for you at a business dinner or a fundraiser. She doesn’t have the background, the education or experience. Be honest. We both know she is not the girl you bring home to your mother. Your family will have a cow, and you know it. You know I’m right.”
“Where’s Keeli?” Molly joined the conversation, not realizing how heated it was. She had Barb and Samantha in tow, forcing the men to stop their discussion. Wyatt ran his hand through his hair, distracted, and tried to focus on the women.
“I wanted to talk to her some more - get to know her better. I like her, Wyatt, I really do. She needs the “Fashion Police”, but I rather like that small town, innocent way she has about her.”
“She is really talented too,” Barb added. “I had her sell me the necklace she was wearing. Asked her to just take it off here and sell it to me now.” She proudly fingered the stones of the necklace now resting in her cleavage.
“I will concede that she has talent, “Samantha chimed in. “but she is no Sloane, Wyatt. She has no class, no conversation. You guys know what I mean,” Samantha lectured the small group. “She is not one of us.”
“Like I said…” Tyler added, giving Wyatt a smug “I told you so” look.
“Oh shut up, Sam,” Molly and Barb said in unison.
“Yeah, just shut up,” Wyatt echoed. He slammed his empty beer mug down on the nearest table. “I am done. I am so done here.” With that, Wyatt turned from his friends, taking long strides toward the door without a backward glance. He could not get away from them, and his thoughts, fast enough.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Wednesday dawned overcast and rainy again. The humidity was terrible but at least it was cooler. Keeli laid under the sticky sheet trying to decide whether to close the window and sweat or leave it open and grab a towel for the incoming rain. She was too tired to decide so she just lay there, feeling blue. She was too tired to do anything.
She tried rubbing the crusty itch from her eyes but after hours of crying she knew it would take more than a few passes with her fists to fix this mess. She had sales calls to make and acknowledged she would have to get moving soon, but lying there without moving helped her hold to illusion that last night had not happened. As long as she stayed in bed, she figured she could pretend there was still hope. The moment she started her day she had to deal with reality once more. Unfortunately there was no Wyatt in reality. At least no Wyatt for her.
She was grateful the boys were still working when she got home last night. She still did not know how she would explain what happened. She wasn’t sure she could explain it to herself. She would have to say something eventually but by then she hoped to have her act together.
After another fifteen minutes, Keeli finally got up, closed the window and went to the bathroom. She emerged with a fresh washed face, clean teeth, a low ponytail, a towel for mopping the floor and a new attitude.
The puddle dealt with, Keeli took a quick shower and donned her one ‘business call’ suit, added her gold cuff with turquoise stones and grabbed the low-heeled shoes with the recently replaced soles.
She prepped an Earl Grey tea, zapping it in a to-go mug and clutched her portfolio to protect it from the rain. She rapidly walked three blocks to pick up a Zipcar for the next few hours. The hourly rental option had been a godsend for Keeli, who grouped her business calls around renting the car one day a week. Driving it more destroyed her budget. Today would be tight but she had laid out a plan of action. First the two stops in Evanston, then a trip to her manufacturer and if she still had time, a short
trip to the bank to deposit the check from last night.
Driving north in the compact rental, she reached the unique florist/gift shop in less than thirty minutes. She was just finishing her tea as she put money in the meter. Checking her hair, reapplying the lip-gloss she had chewed off, she grabbed her large hobo bag and small portfolio and entered the exclusive shop right on schedule. It was ten in the morning, as overcast as night outside, but inside it was like springtime, filled with bright light and the intermingled fragrance of a dozen types of flowers.
Introducing herself to the owner, she gratefully accepted a slightly chipped mug of weak tea while the woman pulled a small boudoir chair over to a table strewn with papers. The computer on the tabletop looked out of place in the charming shop. Keeli accepted the proffered chair and surreptitiously slipped off one painful shoe.
With a minimum of small talk, the two established a cordial relationship while Keeli unpacked the samples she had in her hobo bag. Offering up a selection of twenty items –rings, bracelets and necklaces – in yellow, rose and white gold as well as sterling, she thoughtfully displayed the items. Keeli had carefully selected the pieces to represent a good cross section of styles and prices.
The manager examined her work carefully then thumbed through Keeli’s portfolio asking questions about delivery times, where else she sold merchandise and her background. She took a copy of Keeli’s resume, wrote some notes and circled her email address. Finally, when Keeli felt she would burst with curiosity the owner looked Keeli full in the face and announced was interested in carrying Keeli’s merchandise for the Christmas holidays. Keeli would need to deliver forty items in specific styles with specific price points by October 1.
Bedazzled (The Beguiling Bachelors Book 1) Page 17
