After playing second-string for the Nevada Gamblers, Mark got a coveted spot as starting quarterback on the brand new Delaware Demons. Megan went to Harvard for her MBA. She blossomed into a beautiful young woman with her mahogany hair falling around her shoulders like silk. She filled out, developing sexy curves in all the right places. Her self-esteem grew along with her job success.
Still not convinced she had developed her own charm along with good looks, Megan was pleasantly surprised to capture her first real boyfriend, Alan Fader, a young man who hadn’t heard of Mark Davis. After they graduated, Alan joined an investment-banking firm in California while she took a job in New York. They parted as friends.
When Friday rolled around, Meg rose early. After easing into a violet silk flirty skirt, she pulled a minty green, scooped-neck jersey over her head. The subtle green echoed the green in her eyes. A double-strand pearl choker and matching pearl earrings topped off the outfit. She wore her hair loose, remembering Penny’s warning not to ponytail it with Chaz.
After one more glance in the mirror, Meg grabbed her suit jacket and waltzed out the door, dripping with confidence. A big win would cement her position as the celebrity division head at Dillon and Weed. Chaz Duncan—the world’s most attractive man—well, she’d deal with him later.
The hours flew by as Megan focused on polishing her three plans for Chaz, making sure there were no typos or errors. At five-thirty, she went over everything one more time, and then brushed her soft curls. At six, Chaz walked back to her office. He caught her refreshing her lipstick. “Don’t mean to interrupt…”
“Oh!” She jumped. The tube slipped out of her hand, landing on the floor.
Chaz bent over to pick it up. As he handed it to her, their fingers brushed, sending a tingle skyrocketing up her arm. Her gaze dropped down to his Gucci loafers then continued up his body. He wore snug-fitting jeans and a long-sleeved, light blue, striped shirt that was open at the neck. There was a black leather jacket folded over his arm. Eyes the color of melted dark chocolate captured her gaze as she raised her eyes to his. She froze for a few seconds, like a deer in headlights.
“Everything’s ready.” She tucked the lipstick into her purse, the papers into her briefcase, grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair, and then moved toward him.
“We’re going to Le Chien d’Or. Do you like French food?”
“Love it.”
He placed his hand on the small of her back as she preceded him through the door. The touch of his palm created heat while gently pressing her forward. She became aware of his proximity as a pleasant whiff of his piney cologne drifted her way.
He’s famous. No more celebrities in my life. Besides, he’s business, remember?
* * * *
Her office on West Fifty-Fifth Street placed them close to the small section of tiny, elegant French restaurants on the West Side of Manhattan. It wasn’t long after they hit the street before people started recognizing Chaz. He clasped Meg’s hand firmly with his and took the lead, maneuvering them quickly through the thickening rush hour crowd. She knew all about threading your way through a crowd with a famous person in tow, having done it a million times with Mark. Meg started moving faster, easily keeping up with Chaz as they zigzagged their way passing people almost before they had a chance to recognize him. Finally, they reached the door of the restaurant. Once inside, Jean Pierre, the headwaiter, escorted them to a small, private room.
“You will not be disturbed here, Monsieur Duncan.” Pierre motioned to the dark red, upholstered bench alongside the table. Megan slid in. Chaz slipped a bill in the Maître d’s hand before easing in on the other side, sitting next to her instead of across. His action disconcerted her for a moment until she recalled that was standard in some smaller restaurants. Even so, her mouth went dry when his shoulder brushed hers, and his lips loomed only inches away. A few tiny beads of sweat broke out on her palm.
The petite room had dark mahogany walls. They sat at a rectangular table covered with an immaculate white tablecloth. The flame from a short candle supplemented the dim, romantic lighting. There were two light pink roses in a lavender ceramic vase on the table. The silver shone brilliantly, reflecting the candlelight. The crystal stemware on the table gleamed. For a second, she could’ve sworn she had stepped onto a movie set.
“They know you here?” She angled herself in her seat slightly to face him.
My God…an intimate…romantic dinner with Chaz Duncan. Her pulse kicked up. Don’t get carried away, it’s business, strictly business.
“I often come here for meetings. I need a restaurant where the staff knows me. Keeps interruptions down and service is better for regular customers.” His gaze rose from the menu to her face.
The waiter asked for their drink order and Megan politely declined. Business and alcohol don’t mix. Besides, I can’t drink around him…who knows what stupid thing I’ll say or do?
“Are you sure? Not even a glass of wine? I have to run my lines tonight, but I’m going to have one eentsy weentsy glass.” Chaz held up his thumb and forefinger an inch apart.
She shook her head. His thigh, almost pressing against hers, gave off heat, enticing her to move closer. She resisted. Keep your distance. Don’t be star-struck. This is business. No more celebrities in your life…remember?
“I hate to drink alone.” The pleading look in his eyes melted her resolve.
“You twisted my arm, one glass of Cabernet. That’s all.”
“Make it two glasses, Jean Pierre. Merci.” With a slight nod and a smile, the waiter hurried off.
Speaks French, too. Show-off. A gorgeous show-off, but a show-off. “I have everything we discussed.” Megan reached down for her briefcase.
“Good. Take me through it.” Chaz sat back against the cushioned bench and gazed at her.
“I figure you have something in common with Mark…” She pulled out two thin, dark green binders.
“Besides affection for his beautiful sister?” A mischievous grin parted his lips.
“This is going to take all night if you keep interrupting…” Her brows knitted.
Focus. Stop drooling. Remember, he puts his pants on one leg at a time just like everyone else. Stop thinking about his pants! “All night? Is that part of the service Dillon and Weed provides?” He cocked an eyebrow while attempting, unsuccessfully, to stifle a smile.
Megan couldn’t suppress a laugh as the heat crept from her neck to her cheeks.
“I love making you blush…so pretty.” He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
Her blush deepened. “Can I continue…please?” Focus, Meg! Oh, touch me again…shut up, Meg!
Chaz waved her on with his hand.
“Okay. Mark’s career could be over with one injury, and I figured yours could too. I mean, with one injury or a couple of bad movies…”
“Bite your tongue.” He widened his eyes in mock horror.
“A scandal or two…”
“Perish the thought.” He cocked an eyebrow to go with the smirk on his face.
“I know...a scary thought. One minute you have all this money coming in and the next minute you don’t. I don’t wish it on you, but it could happen. I figured if I can create a safe investment plan for you to keep you from losing your money while making it grow…maybe a little more slowly than a riskier investment, then if something bad should happen you’ll still have everything you’ve earned…plus you’ll have some income from it, too.”
“You can do that?” His eyes widened.
Megan beamed. Finally, I have some respect. “I can’t guarantee you won’t lose some money with changes in economic conditions…the market and all. But I can diversify your holdings to minimize loss, plus recoup any losses in one area with gains in another.”
“How do you do that?” His expression became serious.
“Study, thinking, research, and a touch of dumb luck.” Meg counted off on the fingers of one hand.
He raised his eyebrows
.
“I’ll teach you. I encourage my clients to learn about investing. Mark refuses to bother. Says as long as he has me, he doesn’t need to know.”
The waiter brought two glasses of wine.
“He has a point.” Chaz took a sip.
“But I’m not your sister…”
“Thank God.” His gaze dropped to the neckline of her top then returned to her face.
“I’ve put together three prop…” Megan paused for a second to switch words before continuing, “plans at three different risk levels.” She handed him one of the green binders, ignoring the sweat gathering in her palm.
“Can I take you through them, briefly, then you can take it home to think about what you’d like to do?” She picked up her wine and took a healthy sip, surreptitiously wiping her shaking hand on her napkin.
Take a deep breath.
“How about if you take me through the one you’d most like to do? You do have one…uh…plan you think makes the most sense, right?”
“It depends on your goals…” she hedged.
“There you go with the goals stuff again. Look…you compared me to Mark. Very astute. I’m in much the same situation. So, you must have a plan here similar to what you’re doing for him that’s working.”
She nodded. “Plan B.”
“Okay. Let’s go over that one…the idiot’s version, okay?”
She nodded and opened the binder. Damn. He’s quick.
The waiter arrived. “Do you like duck?” Chaz turned to face Meg.
She nodded.
“They have a fabulous roast duck breast.” He paused and gave her an amused glance. “Can I say that word when I’m referring to a duck?”
Meg chuckled.
“Okay then. Pierre, deux Canard Roti aux fruites de saison, s’il vous plait.”
“Merci, Monsieur.” The waiter bowed and left.
Megan began to explain to Chaz her investment strategy: the risks, the potential income, the growth possibilities, and the tax liabilities.
“One scheme I set up for Mark. He owns the apartment where I live. I pay him rent. Obviously I’m paying below market rent for the place, still its income that helps offset the cost. He and his wife, Penny, stay there when they come to New York. Saves a big hotel bill. The apartment is comfortable with three bedrooms, including a nice big kitchen. When they have a baby I’m going to put the rent money in a tax-free college fund for their child.”
“Killing a whole bunch of birds with one apartment…to mix my metaphors.”
“That’s the idea. The value on the apartment will increase over time, too.”
“That’s a brilliant plan…but only if you get along with your brother and Penny. You all stay there together?” Chaz sipped his wine.
“We’re twins, remember? We’ve always gotten along. I’m lucky to have Penny. She’s the sister I never had. It works. I love it when they’re here. Do you have any siblings?” She took a sip of wine.
He shook his head. “An only child.”
The food arrived, arranged artistically on the plate. The duck on one side with wild rice on the other, Haricot verts rounded out the plate. Tiny, perfect slices of orange hugged the side of the duck, adding color and a gentle citrus scent. Hunger gnawed at Megan’s stomach. When she took the first forkful, the duck practically melted in her mouth. “It’s wonderful!” Megan gushed.
“Knew you’d like it.” He smiled warmly at her.
While they were eating, Chaz pelted her with questions. She had her small notebook open and wrote down the ones she didn’t have immediate answers to. “I’ll get these answers for you right away. When do you want me to get back to you?”
“No rush.” Chaz sat back against the booth.
“When are you going to make a decision?” She took another forkful of the delectable duck.
“I’ve already made my decision.”
“You have?” Her eyes opened wide.
He nodded. She waited for him to say something. Her gaze searched his face for a clue.
“And it is…do we need a drum roll here?” She ventured a small smile.
“It’s Dillon and Weed…isn’t that obvious?”
“You’re hiring us?” Meg’s eyebrows shot up.
“I am.” Chaz’s perfect lips came together to form a soft line.
“Why, may I ask?” Her heart beat faster.
“You mean, did I choose you because of your brains or your…other assets? Brains. I like your other assets. I find them also…impressive. But when it comes to money management, I have to go with the best brains, who will work the hardest. You, hands down.”
“Thank you! Thank you so much!”
He gave her a brief nod. Megan threw her arms around his neck and planted a quick kiss on his cheek, then shrank back in horror at her action. “Oh my God! I’m so sorry. I apologize…I shouldn’t have done that…it’s…this means so much to me, to the firm, to my career…” She reached up with her napkin to wipe the small lipstick smear off his cheek, but he grabbed her wrist.
“Let’s do it right,” he whispered as he drew her into his arms. He lowered his lips, moving them over hers slowly while she melted. He coaxed her mouth open to receive his tongue. Wooed by his charm, her resistance vanished. When he drew back, she was breathless.
“That seals the deal. You know, ‘sealed with a kiss’?” His dark eyes danced. Megan raised her finger to her lower lip. Her pulse raced. “Do you kiss like that in front of the camera?”
“Would you like a screen kiss?” His eyes met hers.
“What’s the difference?”
“I’ll show you.” Chaz lifted both hands to cup her face and moved in for the kiss. Afterward, he pulled back.
“That was hardly the same…hardly a kiss at all, while the first one was…uh…”
“Was?” He prompted, sliding closer to her on the bench.
“Breathtaking,” she mumbled, moving her fork around her empty plate.
Pierre appeared without a sound, as if someone had waved a magic wand.
“Dessert, Monsieur? Mademoiselle?” Meg looked up, startled.
The waiter thrust a small dessert menu in front of them before Chaz could slide any closer. “Give us a minute, please, Jean Pierre.”
The waiter left as soundlessly as he entered. Chaz turned to Megan. “Something sweet?”
“Already had something sweet,” she said, running her tongue over her lower lip.
He cupped her cheek then dropped his hand.
Chapter Two
“What do I have to do now, to seal the deal and have you take over my money, and keep it safe, and make it grow…all the things you promised?”
“You have to sign a bunch of forms. When can you come in?” Is that it? Have I won the business? I can’t believe it was that simple. Sealed with a kiss.
He pulled out his phone to check his calendar. “Hmm. Wednesday at six works. Can I take you out for a celebratory dinner after?”
“I’m pretty sure I’m free on Wednesday night.”
“No Wednesday night tryst, eh?” He slipped his phone into his back pocket.
“Didn’t say that. Said I was free for dinner.” Don’t look pathetic, always available. Be mysterious. Always too honest, Meg. She squared her shoulders and faced him.
He burst out laughing and hugged her to him. “You’re refreshing.” He kissed her hair.
“Some might say rude.” She raised her chin to him.
“Maybe. Not me.” The waiter arrived and Chaz moved back.
“Only tea for me, please.” Megan combed her fingers through her hair.
“I’ll have espresso.” After the waiter disappeared, Chaz rested his chin in his palm with his elbow on the table, his eyes peering intently at her. “Now, tell me about you.”
“Not much to tell.” She shrugged.
“Engaged? Married? No ring, so I assumed…” His gaze traveled over her slowly.
“Assumed I wasn’t. Correct.” She grinned, fe
eling the effects of the wine. Or was it winning his account? Or the kisses? I’m high on…on him.
“Boyfriend?” He raised an eyebrow.
She shook her head.
“Clear field…I like that.” He sat back.
“And you? Big movie stars always have hordes of women after them.” Her gaze searched his face.
“And I avoid them like the plague.”
“Makes things easy for you, doesn’t it, having a woman whenever you want one?” She raised an eyebrow at him.
“That’s insulting. You think I sleep with anything? Anyone?”
“Men aren’t as choosy…”
“I am. It can be career suicide to sleep with the wrong woman.”
“How?” She cocked an eyebrow at him.
“Can’t you see the headlines now? ‘Chaz Duncan, the thirty-second wonder’ according to Jane Smith, who slept with him last night.” He looked up in the air.
“Are you a thirty-second wonder?” She shot him a flirty smile. What are you doing? Stop flirting!
He laughed. “Not exactly.”
“Then why worry?”
“Women lie. Correction—people lie. When it comes to celebrities, people lie. Sometimes, people lie because they want to be associated with you…with your persona…bask in the reflection of your fame. They never give a thought to what they are doing to you, only to how the newspaper spells their name.”
Megan put her hand on his forearm. He placed his hand over hers. He’s lonely, very lonely. Can’t trust anyone. “So you don’t sleep with the women who are waiting for you outside the theater or hunt you down?”
“Never have slept with strangers and don’t intend to start now.”
“Never tempted?”
“I wouldn’t go that far. I’m human. I’ve had my share of women. When you’re twenty-two in your first musical out of town, hey sure, it’s tempting…very tempting. I may have fallen a few times. You learn quickly. Better to find someone in the cast….oops. TMI here.”
If I Loved You (Hollywood Hearts 1) Page 2
