"Get all of that information to me as soon as you can, Ms Cain and I'll get the ball rolling. I should have an answer for you at the beginning of next week."
That didn't surprise me, but the thought of lasting the entire weekend not knowing if things would be OK or not was not a good thing. I nodded - unsurprisingly - and stepped toward the door. Just as I reached it he cleared his throat. I turned and once again he was right there. In my space. I couldn't step back, the door was behind me, there was nowhere to go.
He handed me a business card, as I took it I flipped it over, he'd written his private line on it. I thought it rather nice if not a little strange.
"If you need anything at all, have a question, just want to talk things through. Please call me. Any time," he added pointedly.
I nodded, what else could I do? Then escaped out the door, praying I didn't bump into god-like man number one, as god-like man number two had unsettled me way too much for my own good. He'd been kind and understanding and had offered to represent me for free. Plus employ investigators to dig up more dirt on Brett. It was almost too much to believe, a dream.
I huffed a laugh out as I pressed the button on the elevator, purposely ignoring the bitch-at-reception as I waited for it to arrive. I only had one dream owed me in this life, my quota was already full. I couldn't afford to get my hopes up until that dream was secure and safe and no longer threatening to be broken in half by Brett.
Even if every particle in me wanted to dream just a little, that Finn Drake meant every word he had just said.
Chapter 3
The World Continued To Turn
Sweet Seduction was pumping by the time I arrived, just after 10am. Our early morning business rush would have passed, and now we were firmly into the latte set, those shoppers on High Street needing to rest their feet in between purchases and down a little sweetness. They'd come to the right place. Coffee permeated the air, mixed in with the heady smell of chocolate and the almost too loud music of Gin Wigmore. Man Like That thumping out of the speakers and making the whole place thrum with the exotic beat that only Gin seems to be able to create. Today was New Zealand artist day, Kelly had chosen well.
I pushed through the double doors - I'd opted for manually opening doors, rather than those impersonal automatic ones, and had them designed in an old fashioned style; wooden trim, moulded glass that made unusual patterns out of the occupants on the other side. The windows matched, giving the overall appearance of Old English charm on a street that screamed modernist glass. We stood out and we liked it that way.
The inside was welcoming and comfortable, but with a retro chic feel as opposed to the external old English charm. I'd chosen over-stuffed furniture and dark wooden highly polished floors, matching low lying tables and a corner full of copious amounts of enormous cushions and pillows. Surprisingly many customers lounged out in the pit - you wouldn't think the latte drinking, designer clothes shopping elite of Auckland City would bum it on the floor in a music store, but there you go.
The colours matched our take-away cups, predominantly black, with splashes of hot pink and white. The front of the store was given over to chocolate and coffee, the back was where you scored your music. Sweet Seduction didn't favour one musical genre over another, we were an equal opportunity establishment. If you had a request when you walked through the doors, it was found and put on. No questions asked. But if your request was disliked by the majority of those present - this was established by an easy verbal vote, something along the lines of, "Is it a winner or not, folks?!" and a simple shout out one way or the other from those in the store. - it was canned with a ban on the person who chose it from picking the music ever again. Needless to say, those regulars - and we had a fair few - who wanted to continue to have a voice in our choice of music, chose carefully.
Kelly was behind the chocolate counter and to her side was our barista, Lucas. He was a master of his trade. His coffees were what really made Sweet Seduction shine. People came out of their way to grab a vanilla latte, or a chai flat white, or a caramel macchiato. He experimented with flavour combinations on a regular basis, people loved to trial them for him too. A tall, skinny, white boy with absolutely no muscle definition, but a hell of a lot of strength when it came to banging a portafilter full of wet coffee grounds out in the dump bin. Making coffee was a loud business, that's why our music was a fraction louder still. Lucas may not have won any competitions for Mr Universe, but he had a heart of gold and passion for coffee. In other words, he was perfect for my shop and I loved him dearly. He'd been with me from the start and had no intention of moving on by the looks of things.
I rounded the counter to check on our stock levels, by this time in the morning we can sometimes be low on everything, depending on how busy we've been. Kelly finished serving her customer and turned her baby blue eyes on me, hands on shapely hips, foot tapping, she demanded, "Well? How'd it go?"
I glanced up from rearranging the chocolates beneath the counter and stared at my best friend. Her blonde hair was painstakingly curled to within an inch of its life and hung down past her shoulders. She was wearing the Sweet Seduction uniform, exactly the same as me, but because she's several inches taller, it looked bang out smashing on her, as opposed to the slightly librarian look I managed to pull off.
"Things may not be as bad as we feared," I replied, bending to shift a few items around in their trays. I'd need to grab some more apricot angels and luscious lavender ladies, we were low on them.
"So, are they gonna tell Brett to pull his stinkin' head in and shove it up his arse," she demanded and I cringed, coming upright and catching the amused smile of the young woman standing patiently waiting for her coffee and taking our conversation in. Kelly told it like it was and her language choice was often borderline offensive.
I glared at her for a second, she just continued to tap her foot impatiently.
"Not quite, but they're putting an investigator on it, they may come up with something else that's in my favour," I reluctantly admitted. Not giving her an answer would only lead to a raised voice. The shop was full, I didn't want to scare off all of my customers.
She huffed, it looked attractive on her, it wouldn't on anyone else. "OK, good. 'Bout time you took this whole thing seriously."
"I've always taken it seriously!" I replied, going rigid. I mean, how many times can you throw someone out and change the locks on your door and not be considered serious?
She raised her eyebrows at me incredulously. Foot still tapping. "Four times," she said through gritted teeth. I stared at her, she stared back. I guess more than once and you're no longer serious. She had a point.
My body deflated like a popped balloon. Kelly noticed and stepped closer, placing a delicate hand on my shoulder.
"Gen," she said softly. "It'll be all right, you'll see. You've got professionals working on it now, Brett doesn't stand a chance, chickie." God I hoped she was right.
I glanced around the store and took in the atmosphere. It was upbeat, happy, and everyone had looks of divine ecstasy on their faces, either from a sip of delicious caffeine or a nibble of decadent chocolate, or simply with their eyes closed enjoying the groove that is Gin. I'd created paradise and if I didn't get Brett sorted out, it wouldn't just be me who lost out. My eyes flicked back to Kelly, she'd been watching me closely.
"Why don't you take a break out the back, we're good here," she offered.
I nodded. I did have a lot of paperwork to do and I needed to send that information through to Finn Drake. The sooner I did that, the sooner this whole mess could be sorted.
I worked through to lunch, meticulously going over my financials before I sent them through, with a statement that the lawyers would type up and get me to sign, as an affidavit about my embarrassing relationship with Brett. The morning was taken up completely with the problems Brett had brought into my life. I resented that. I had a hell of a lot of shop work to get through and I hadn't been able to turn my attention to it at all. That mad
e me mad as hell.
I worked lunch out the front, although we don't serve meals, you'd be surprised how many people come to us for their lunchtime treat. Some actually buy music, but most just grab a coffee to go with a chocolate on the side. They go off and eat elsewhere, or they come to us after they have eaten, but most of them are repeat business. They can't even get through one lunch break without a little Sweet Seduction in their lives. So, although we are flat tack, from noon until just before two, the couches are quickly turning over the backsides pressed into them and the black cups with hot pink stencilled writing on them are flowing out the door.
Sweet Seduction can be seen on every corner, all over High Street and as far away as Hobson, the other side of Queen. That's why I pay for the personalised take-away cups, there's simply no better advertisement than seeing a Sweet Seduction coffee cup as you rush out to your next appointment, or duck between shops. The allure of our coffee is too great.
By two-thirty in the afternoon, Kelly and Lucas had both had their breaks, so I took mine in my office and hit the business end of running a popular café and music store. Munching on a salad sandwich and sipping a hazelnut latte, I poured my attention into orders and balance sheets and accounting for every penny that came and went out that front door. No one tells you how much is involved in running a business, it's not all about the front of shop, there's hours of sweat to be made out the back.
By four, I was beginning to think I'd be there until midnight, the rate I was going. Thankfully, I was saved by the tinkle of the phone, indicating an internal call.
"What's up?" I said into the receiver.
"Ohmigod you will not believe the hotties we have in here right now," Kelly exclaimed loudly, no doubt alerting said hotties to their hotness. "The guys from the gym are having their usual late afternoon powwow, there's also three sets of regulars, you know, the accountancy firm from Kitchener Street, the investment bankers from Queen and the traders from Lorne."
"So the usual afternoon rush," I offered. We'd got used to the afternoon hot-rush, for some reason we were the meeting place for impromptu - or not - late afternoon meetings. The first time the gym jocks walked in I just about wet myself. Whoever heard of personal trainers meeting in a chocolate-come-coffee-come-music shop to rehash their exercise ridden day?
Still, this announcement did not warrant a personal call from the front, unless they couldn't handle the volume of customers themselves. I wasn't always stuck out back, but Fridays tended to be my accounts day, bills to pay, pay-checks to write and so on. The guys out front were used to it and tried to let me have that time if business allowed.
"Ya-huh," Kelly murmured. "But that's not the best of it. We have new fans," she announced.
"Great, you need a hand?"
"Oh, I think we definitely need a hand," she replied, a strange emphasis on the words. I sighed. Kelly didn't need a hand, she wanted me to come perve at the new customers and then rate them on a scale of one to ten in hotness.
I glanced back down at the papers strewn across my desk and the blinking cursor on my laptop screen, which had been blinking at me for the past ten minutes in silent accusation that I hadn't yet finished the accounts. I think I had been fazing, staring blankly at the wall. I have no idea what I had been pondering about, but it was definitely time for a short break. And if that involved assessing new members of the hot-rush brigade, then hell, need I say more?
"OK, I'll be there in a sec," I answered, getting ready to hang up the phone.
"I've got dibs on the dark haired one in the suit," she declared, like she was going to wrap him up and take him home for dinner. Maybe not so far from the truth. Kelly went through men like I went through frozen TV dinners. Well, maybe not quite so bad, but getting close.
I logged out of the laptop, deciding that was it for the day. The wages had been sorted and the bank account nearly balanced, I'd have to come in over the weekend and finish it all off. Not a pleasant thought, but it was either that or stay late and I think I had done my dash for the day. I needed chocolate, music and coffee, in my apartment whilst petting the cat.
I tidied the desk briefly and then ran a hand through my hair. I'm a dusky blonde, darker than Kelly's and straighter. Where she had a natural curl, I just have annoying curve that without hair straightening products always looked like I'd fallen asleep on the couch, with my head hanging over the arm rest. At least mine was longer than hers, it came down to below my shoulders, scraping my bra strap. I had it loose today and running my hands through it was probably not the wisest idea, the later in the day, the more chance I needed a retouch of anti-frizz. Auckland can be humid, thankfully we were in a lovely dry patch of weather, I decided I could risk not looking in the mirror in the staff room and walked out towards the front of the shop.
The moment I walked through from the back I regretted my decision, and it took absolutely all of my willpower not to reach for my hair and flatten it against my skull and then turn tail and run for the hills. One quick glance around the shop and I instantly knew the new hot-rush attendees were not here to join the club, but for some strange curiosity factor had decided to check out where I worked.
Finn Drake sat with three other men, all of them god-like, all of them prime contenders for the title of top of the hot-rush hotties. And one of them was god-like Mr Anscombe, whose blue-blue eyes were trained on me the second I emerged from my sanctum. I felt like a deer caught in headlights, I stopped walking, stopped breathing, just completely came to a stop. Gin Wigmore had become Bic Runga and Sway wafted out of the speakers. I might have been doing the song proud.
"Yo," Kelly yelled, thankfully breaking the embarrassing spell. "Need a little hand over here," she emphasised her words again.
My head shot round to see her serving a couple of customers, nothing she couldn't handle on her own, but I jumped at the opportunity to unstick my limbs and rushed to her side, painfully aware my steps were being watched from the top of the hot-rush hotties Mr Anscombe. What the hell were they doing here? And who were the gorgeous additions sitting talking quietly with Finn Drake? It was clear they were taking in the store, from the décor to the products to us, but their conversation did not include Anscombe. He just sat mutely watching me.
"Order's up," Lucas declared, placing the last of four cups of coffee on a tray and shoving it toward me. Damn, I'd have to deliver the order, which would mean walking across the store to wherever it needed to go, all the while being watched by top of the hot-rush four, including Anscombe. Lucas rattled off which coffee was what, expecting me to memorise the order in three seconds flat.
Kelly beamed at me, handing some change over to the first of the two customers before her. I gave her a half-smile back. She seemed supremely amused about something.
"What?" I hissed, reaching for the tray and the ticket that would tell me where in the room the recipients were sitting. My heart sank as I stared at it. Not just walking across the room in front of them, I'd be walking right up to them. Shit.
"He hasn't taken his eyes off you since you walked through that door," she said under her breath back to me, thankfully adopting a respectable volume for once. "Who is he?" she demanded a little louder. I frowned.
"No one." Then turned with the tray, determined to get this over with and then hide out back for the next year.
I concentrated on not tripping or bumping into any of the randomly placed furniture in the shop, berating my choice of placement and realising just how higgledy-piggledy everything was. I had been going for casual/comfortable, it now seemed more like torturous/mine field. I made it through, just and without raising my eyes to any of them started rattling off one drink after another, as I lifted them from the tray and placed them on the low table before them. It meant I had to bend over and it was only on the last cup that I realised my blouse had tipped forward and down, providing, I was so sure, a nice view of my white lacy bra set. Christ, could I be any more ridiculous!
I jumped back upright feeling the blush I dr
eaded sweep up my cheeks.
"Ms Cain," Finn Drake said softly. My eyes automatically flicked to him, there was that warmth in his own eyes again, as though he was genuinely pleased to see me. Maybe it was to see me make a fool of myself, but that didn't seem his style.
"Mr Drake," I replied, not quite as warmly, but I did try.
"Please call me Finn," he answered immediately, surprising me at the familiarity and perhaps inappropriateness of his suggestion. I was his client after all. I also wasn't the only one surprised, Mr Anscombe's head swivelled to shoot a glare directly at his partner. He agreed with my assessment, lawyers and their clients should always stick to formal titles, it just seemed a little too much to call him Finn.
I decided to not mention that and just forced a smile on my lips. His face fell slightly, but he recovered quickly and indicated the gentlemen at his sides.
"Please let me introduce my colleagues." He pointed towards Anscombe. "This is Dominic Anscombe, senior partner at ADK."
There was nothing for it, I had to acknowledge the introduction and look him in the eye. I turned stiffly towards god-like Anscombe with the sexiest smile and name I'd ever heard in my life and offered a half smile. He shot his hand out immediately to shake. Damn. I took it, hesitating only for a second or two and hopefully not showing my distaste at touching him too much. It wasn't distaste, it was outright fear. Touching him seemed like a very bad move.
I wasn't wrong. A shock of electricity shot up my arm, from where he touched me. His large, smooth hand engulfing mine, to the point where his fingers curved around my wrist. He flexed them against the sensitive skin there, making me go instantly weak at the knees. I felt a breath of air escape me and forced myself not to close my eyes or collapse to the floor before him. A lazy smile spread across his lips, this one different from the others I had received. I decided I liked it, then quickly decided it was the worst smile in the history of smiles and so frowned. His smile only widened further.
Sweet Seduction Sacrifice Page 3
