“I want her in something amazing. No black, navy or grey. Something that will make everyone look at her and not me, for a change.” Those had been Zee’s instructions and, damn it, Cherise was way too good at following instructions.
Phlox was standing in her underwear in the dressing room of a boutique on Elizabeth Street as Cherise returned another rejected gown to its hanger. Phlox dropped the next contender down over her shoulders and turned so Cherise could zip her up. Her devoted assistant had been uncharacteristically quiet in the cab ride over. Something was up.
“I’m giving you a raise with your performance review next month anyway,” she said, petulance at being out of the loop on something coloring her voice.
“It’s not that,” Cherise replied, smoothing and adjusting the gown. “What do you think?”
“God, it’s red.”
“Zee said no black or navy.”
“I look good in black and navy.”
“You look good in red, too. Old time movie glamour-y. Is that a word?”
“I don’t think so. You didn’t answer my question. Did I look fat in that other dress?” Maybe it was time to end the cake and pie diet, enjoyable though it was.
Cherise snorted into her hand, then fell serious. “Mr. Connor resigned his position this morning. As caretaker,” she said quietly.
“Oh.”
“Do you want me to look for a replacement?”
Phlox thought for a minute, turning so Cherise could unzip the alarmingly red dress. “No. Let’s just hire someone to mow the lawn and keep the garden in decent shape. It’ll give me more incentive to go up there and take care of it myself.”
Phlox shed the red dress, then pulled another dress from the rack Cherise had filled. It was a Badgley Mischka gown, a long wash of deep fuchsia silk and sequins that shimmered in the dressing room light. She dropped it on over her head and Cherise zipped up the back.
She turned this way and that, inspecting herself from every angle in the mirror. The halter neckline left her shoulders bare front and back, which exposed the scars there but that seemed pointless to worry about at this point. The deep pink fabric skimmed her waist and hips, then fell to a puddle of silk at her feet.
“Looks good on you, Phlox. With a little highlighter on your shoulders?”
Phlox pulled up the hem to look at her bare feet. “Silver heels, do you think?”
“And your chandelier earrings.”
Phlox sighed. “Okay. We have a winner. Can you leave it in my office? I’m going to walk to the People interview. I need to gather my thoughts before I get there.”
* * *
Outside, it was hot and muggy. Airless. A typical July day in New York, in other words. This was why she had bought the country house in Connecticut. The house that was now caretaker-less. She hadn’t seen that coming, his resignation. Without even calling her. Well, why would he? It’s not like Phlox had hired him in the first place.
It’s not like we were lovers or anything, you know?
The thought that she might never see him again, now that he wouldn’t be at her house, took her breath away like she'd been punched hard in the stomach.
Tears stung her eyes and she swallowed hard to regain her composure. She couldn’t show up at an interview bawling her eyes out, even if it was getting harder and harder to sit there and answer questions about Jared. She hadn’t heard a peep from him since he left her house. Not even a call acknowledging that Phlox Beauty had accepted his investment. Jake had provided Jess with a statement for the press release. It was as Phlox had guessed—Jake managed Jared’s money, the Maria Group and the Connor Foundation.
How many times had she pulled out her phone and stared at his number? Too many to count by now. Her fingers itched to call, but she stopped herself every time. She had left enough messages and texts. If he wanted to speak to her, he would have responded by now.
Maybe it was for the best. She should move on. He was the fling she’d expected him to be at the beginning. No one expects fucking the pool boy to turn into a long-term relationship. David was still in touch, leaving voice mails and e-mails about how nice she looked in this photo or that, even offering congratulations on Jared’s investment. “The Maria Group hasn’t made many investments in recent years. That’s a real coup, aside from getting the guy out of hiding.” That had been big of David. David wasn’t a bad guy. There just wasn’t much chemistry between him and Phlox. But maybe there could be ... if she gave it time.
Her phone rang just as she reached her destination. She ducked into a corner of the lobby to answer. It was Mina Connor returning her call. Phlox had left her a message earlier in the week about the new marketing director position for the burn care line.
“Phlox! I would love to work with you.” Mina’s voice was excited and genuine. “When can I come down to talk to you about it?”
“I’ll come up to Boston. Is Friday good?”
“Friday is fine. He won’t be here,” Mina added.
“I wasn’t expecting him to be.” No, but you were hoping. “Since you’ll be working from home, I don’t want to drag you all the way down to New York.” Isn’t there any way you can have him there?
“I’m sorry about Jared, Phlox.”
“I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say it wasn’t your fault.”
Mina laughed lightly on the other end. “Suppose not. But I really thought you were the one. Hell, I still think you’re the one. He’s just too boneheaded to admit it. The kids have been giving him a really hard time over it. Especially Aidan. He calls you Princess Phlox.”
Phlox forced herself to laugh along. “Aidan’s got a way with the women already. Obviously, he doesn’t take after his uncle.”
“The thing you have to understand about Jared and Jake is that they don’t expect people to love them. Jake, fortunately, doesn’t have the out that Jared believes his face gives him so I was able to wear him down. It took a good while though,” Mina said. “Jared, on the other hand, is used to just buying whatever he wants—companionship when he wants it, privacy when he doesn’t. Expensive toys to distract himself from being lonely.”
“I don’t care about his money. I loved him before I knew he even had any.”
“And I’m sure that has him in a bit of a quandary. He can’t fix this situation by throwing money at it.”
“Well, tell him I said ‘hello’ the next time you see him.”
Phlox watched as people streamed in and out of the building lobby. Everywhere she went these days, she kept her eyes peeled for a glimpse of those familiar broad shoulders, that messy blonde hair, the scarred face that made her heart skip a beat just thinking about it. He had admitted to being in the city before, watching her. She hoped he was watching her now.
Chapter 31
The diner was tucked away on a short side street in the Financial District, away from the crowds milling about the new World Trade Center. The middle-aged waitress took one look at Jared and led him to a vinyl-covered booth in the back, right next to the swinging door of the kitchen. He slid into the side of the booth facing the door. Not because he didn’t want anyone to see his face, but because he didn’t want anyone to see his choice of reading material.
He ordered a beer and the burger and fries platter, then opened his brand new copy of People magazine. Normally, he didn’t even look at that side of the newsstand. He stuck to the side where the business and sports titles were displayed. But People caught his eye today. The cover featured a photograph he thought he was one of the few people to have ever seen: a selfie of Phlox after one of her early surgeries, barely recognizable as human. Next to it was a smiling photo of her now, her skin flawless after many more surgeries and the judicious application of makeup.
It hurt a little to see that selfie on the cover. When she left that photo album outside the cottage, he had thought she was sharing something with him that she didn’t show to just anyone. But she had never said any such thing. He had just assumed that because he su
re as hell wouldn’t show anyone pictures like those. Not that he had any post-surgery pictures to show. What little fix-ups he’d had as a kid no one had bothered to document.
In Connecticut, it had been easy to overlook the fact that only one of them was hiding out from the world. Phlox hadn’t been. She was there to face down some personal demons … then go back to work and her normal life, which included public appearances and media interviews.
The waitress shoved his platter onto the table and dropped the bottle of beer in front of him with a sharp clank. He took a long draw. It was three o’clock in the afternoon and he was at loose ends. He had packed up his things at the cottage two weeks ago. Now he was stuck in New York with nothing to do.
He couldn’t stay on as Phlox’s caretaker. It felt too weird now. That whole setup only worked if the homeowners didn’t know he was a billionaire. He felt bad about the hot tub, though. She would have to hire someone else to get that done. Plus, he had really wanted to spend some time in it with her. Not happening now, obviously.
He flipped the magazine open to the article, dreading it after the Vanity Fair piece online. Mina had emailed him a link to it; he wished she hadn’t. Phlox in not much more than a jacket and heels—he had not been happy about that. Was still not happy about it, in fact. Not that it stopped him from looking at the pictures every night and, well, having phone sex without the phone. But he imagined plenty of other men jerking off to the pictures, as well, and that thought was like a knife twisting in his gut.
Fuck, that guy she’d had dinner with was probably jerking off to them. Or not. Jared picked at his fries. He probably had access to the real thing, now that Jared had stepped out of the picture.
Fortunately, the People article was tamer than Vanity Fair had been, focusing more on her accident, recovery and return to work. The product recalls and customer injuries got surprisingly few column inches, and he wondered whether that was an intentional strategy on her part. Distract people with half-naked pictures. He closed his eyes and let the half-naked pictures fill his memory again. He would love to see Phlox in person dressed like that. He would slowly roll down those sheer silky stockings, slip her feet out of those fuck-me heels and then … well, fuck her.
He opened his eyes and read the rest of the article. Phlox Beauty is using a recent investment from reclusive billionaire Jared Connor to launch a new burn care line … Miller and her partner, Zee Malisewski, are scheduled to attend the premiere of First Light, the new movie starring Malisewski’s mother, Ginger Moon.
Damn but she was fearless. She was really putting herself out there. The media was calling for him too, according to Jake’s daily—sometimes twice-daily—updates, but he continued to be “unavailable.” He was happy, too, that she had offered Mina a job. Meant he might hear the occasional news about her. He needed to stay away from Phlox, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to think about her.
He thought about her all the time, actually.
Even Emma and Aidan were busting his chops over breaking up with her. Uncle Ninny was his new nickname, apparently. Could be worse. Jake was constantly muttering “Uncle Jackass” under his breath around him.
He ordered another beer and stared at the cover of the magazine. Fucking hell. He missed her.
* * *
“Mr. Connor!” The doorman caught up to Jared before he reached the elevator. “This package came for you.” He held out a nine by twelve envelope.
Jared’s heart leapt when he saw the return address: Phlox Beauty. He quickly crashed back to reality when he opened it. It wasn’t from Phlox. What did he think she would be sending him anyway? No, the package was from her assistant, Miss Brisk Efficient. An employment termination package. He stepped onto the waiting elevator, inserted his card and pushed the button for the seventieth floor. As the elevator rose with gut-dropping speed, he perused the contents of the envelope.
“Thanks for being a valued Phlox Beauty employee” letter.
Instructions on extending his health insurance through COBRA. Jared hadn’t realized he even had health insurance through her company. Never looked into it. Didn’t need it in any case.
A code entitling him to discounts on all Phlox Beauty products. That would be useful. He rolled his eyes.
A boilerplate form gently reminding him to adhere to his non-compete clause. He couldn’t remember signing one of those. Probably didn’t apply to caretakers; he’d learned no trade secrets while in Phlox’s employ.
Well, maybe he’d learned a few trade secrets. Where she liked to be kissed. The breathy little moan she made right before she came. How long the scars on her breasts were.
An envelope with an invitation to … the premiere of Ginger Moon’s new movie, First Light? A post-it note with a hotel name and room number. A printout of flights from Newark to Los Angeles for tonight and tomorrow morning. A neatly typed note from Miss Brisk Efficient: Mr. Connor, I will probably get fired for this. Given that I would walk over hot coals for Phlox Miller, I would sacrifice my job for her, too. She does not have a date for this event. Jared’s eyes widened at the next words, and he had to read them twice to make sure he was seeing them right. I doubt that you really deserve a woman like her, but she seems to be in love with you so fucking man up and be her date. Kind regards, C. Henderson.
There was something else in the envelope. He reached in and pulled out a silk tie. It was a deep pink shade, not a color Jared would normally wear, but he instantly grasped the significance. The tie probably matched Phlox’s dress. The pink would look gorgeous on her.
Suddenly he was desperate to see her.
The elevator eased to a stop and the doors opened onto his private foyer, empty and hushed. He shook his head as the elevator doors closed behind him. Kind regards, my ass. Phlox had a pit bull for an assistant. A passive-aggressive pit bull.
He tossed the papers onto a table and looked around at his enormous apartment. His enormous, empty apartment. Oh, it was impeccably furnished and the walls sported nice works of art, plus a few framed crayon drawings from Aidan and Emma. But the only people besides himself who’d ever been here were Jake, Mina and the kids. Once in a great while, Jake and Mina would come to the city to take in a show and Jared would watch Emma and Aidan. The three of them would sit on the floor, watch cartoons and eat Spaghettios.
Would they be the only kids to ever set foot in here?
He walked through the big empty rooms. He had a comfortable leather sectional and no one to curl up on it with and watch bad reality television. He had a professional grade kitchen but no one to cook for. With or without bowtie. Had he really done that? Cooked dinner for her in nothing but an apron and bowtie? He needed to buy her silence on that one. If Jake ever found out, he would never live it down.
He ran his hand along the glass-topped dining table. He smiled. Whenever Aidan and Emma came to visit, the glass ended up covered in their sticky, smudgy handprints. He peeked into the powder room, where a frog-shaped bottle of hand soap sat on the sink—because he had thought it would make Aidan smile. (It had.)
He strolled into the master suite, the room where he leaned back against his expensive down pillows every night and thought about making love to her. The master bath where there was a soaking tub and a steam shower easily big enough for two. He sat down on the tufted bench in the middle of the dressing room—which was more than half empty because he was a guy and didn’t have an entire roomful of clothes and shoes—and leaned his head into his hands. His apartment held memories of her and she hadn’t even been here yet.
Maybe his brother was right. Maybe he hadn’t given her enough credit when it came to deciding what was best for her business. She’d been all over town—not to mention the internet—showing off her scars and talking about some reclusive billionaire’s investment in her company and gracefully sidestepping questions about their fling-hookup-relationship. Vanity Fair had called it a fling. Family-friendly People termed it a relationship. The New York Post had demoted it to a hookup
.
It had not been a hookup. Not for Jared anyway and not for her either. He was certain of that.
He stood and unzipped garment bags until he found the suit he was looking for. It hadn’t been worn in years, but he knew it still fit. That was one advantage of working as a caretaker; it kept him in shape. He dug his phone out of the pocket of his khaki shorts and booked a flight to Los Angeles. Then he began to pack.
She deserved a better man. Damn it, he was going to be that man.
Chapter 32
The suite at the Ritz-Carlton was decorated in soothing shades of cream and grey. Outside, the California sunshine was fading into a balmy Los Angeles evening. The lights of the city twinkled in the dusk.
Phlox was anything but calm as she unzipped the beautiful pink gown and dropped it over her head. This wasn’t the first of Ginger Moon’s movie premieres she had attended, but the nervousness they caused never seemed to go away. From the very start, Zee’s mother had been unflaggingly supportive of Phlox Beauty. She’d appeared in their earliest ad campaigns, wore the makeup religiously, talked it up all over Hollywood. Without her, Phlox doubted the company would have the cult status it did.
So tonight she and Zee would be among fans and friends of the company. Phlox Beauty was even a corporate sponsor of the premiere. Still, Phlox found it nerve-wracking to stand side by side with the “beautiful people,” even though she could see with her own eyes that many of them were heavier and plainer in person than they were in photographs. Post surgery, of course, she now fit in better—on the outside anyway. But the inside Phlox still hadn’t caught up with the outside Phlox. And beauty had turned out not to be the talisman against bad fortune and ill events she had always assumed it was.
Life had always looked easier for people who were more attractive. Even among her loved ones, it had seemed so. Zee and Cherise both dripped men, were good at everything they tried, could put on sweatpants and sneakers and still turn heads. Her brother had no trouble getting the phone numbers of models and dancers.
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