Her tone was sharp, and her request was another shock.
I studied her face again. She had been so upset. It wasn't unusual for my father to change his plans without telling us. Why was today so different? Had something happened between her and my father?
Dayton, thankfully, did not notice. "Jessa has also managed to track down photographs of the original mural that decorated the lobby walls. We're interviewing artists later this week."
"What a wonderful use of your art history major, my dear," Estrella said.
I didn't know what to say. The whole conversation was so civilized, but there was an undercurrent coming from my mother that I could not understand.
Dayton finished his drink in a quick gulp and stood up. "I'm sorry to interrupt. I'll leave you lovely ladies to your morning."
My mother stood up and graciously gave Dayton both hands. "If Robert has the nerve to bring any of this up to my absent husband, I will be sure to set him straight. It showed great consideration for you to come up here and check on my daughter. Thank you."
Dayton gave my mother's hand a swift and gentlemanly kiss and then looked at me. "Thank you for letting me borrow her expertise. It is much appreciated."
"Well, it's nice to know someone appreciates us," my mother said. She showed Dayton to the door while I sat, still shocked.
"Mother, what's going on?" I asked when she rejoined me on the leather sofa.
Estrella patted my hand. "Don't worry, dear. I approve of your little project."
"But what about Robert?" I asked.
My mother pursed her lips. "It will be a blow to your father if you end the engagement, but I think we can agree that Robert is not entirely suitable for you."
I jumped up. "What? What are you saying?"
She laughed. "Oh, dear. You can't honestly believe that I would force you into a marriage with someone like Robert after he has shown his true colors?"
"But what about Father?"
My mother stood up and smoothed down her Chanel suit. "My best advice to you, dear, is to dump Robert. True love is nearly impossible to find, but it will be much harder if you're tied to a man like that."
"True love?" The floor felt like it swayed underneath my feet.
"Yes, Jessa. Even your old mother is still able to believe such things exist," she said. She caught my hands, squeezed them, and kissed my cheek. "Do us both a favor and don't give up so quickly."
Estrella left my father's office before I was able to ask her anything else. In the wake of my disastrous morning, I decided to sit back down and finish my drink. It burned in my chest, but the warmth was welcomed. I thought about what my mother said, and then I thought about Dayton.
The feeling grew until I was warm all over.
Chapter 6
Dayton
I woke up and stretched, feeling a now-familiar smile on my face. It had been forever since a woman interested me enough to appear in my dreams: Jessa, alone in her father's penthouse office, her tidy sheath dress unzipped and loose. It was becoming easier and easier to imagine myself joining her there; my hand slipping around her tight waist and pulling her close.
I groaned and forced myself to sit up. My body was still tight in the grip of the fantasy even as reality came seeping in.
We were well into November, and though I still saw Jessa two or three times a week, we only got together at work. And, as far as I could tell, she was still engaged to that sleaze ball, Robert.
Worse than her unfortunate choice of fiancé was the fact that I looked forward to seeing her every day. She never scheduled her visits, so I spent the majority of each morning glancing out the window to see if she would arrive. Mike teased me about it mercilessly.
And he was right. I was acting like a fool.
I dragged myself out of bed and stood in front of my wardrobe. Mrs. Upton had delighted in my request for new shirts and slacks, and each day she laid out a fresh outfit, neatly pressed. It didn't matter to her that in order to do so she had to walk down the winding drive from my parents' mansion to the far garage and then up the steps to my small apartment.
I'd been living over the garage, ignoring the main house, since I had gotten home from my stint in prison. It hadn't seemed right to waltz back into my luxurious life as if nothing was wrong, and I'd only agreed to the garage-top apartment to stop my mother from returning from Europe.
I got dressed and jogged up the long driveway to the main house, intent on telling Mrs. Upton she didn’t have to deliver my laundry.
"So nice to see you, sir," Mrs. Upton called from the wide, sweeping front steps of the mansion. "I've got Mr. Stantan standing by in case you are hungry."
I ran up the steps, pecked her cheek and then frowned at my long-time housekeeper. "Mrs. Upton, you know that's a waste of time and energy. I can feed myself."
"Oh, but you do look smart," the older woman said. She dusted imaginary lint off my shoulder with a proud smile. "And you know it’s our pleasure to serve you."
I sighed. The woman was immovable when it came to her loyalty to my family; her loyalty to me, more specifically. Mrs. Upton had been part of my family's staff since I was in grade school and she was indispensable to my mother's whims.
"Any word from the matriarch?" I asked. The scent of fresh blueberry muffins lured me into the mansion.
"She called last week from Paris." Mrs. Upton rushed ahead of me and into the vast gourmet kitchen. There she pressed a buzzer on the wall and then proceeded to pour me a fresh cup of coffee.
"Yes, Mrs. Upton?" the cook's voice enquired over the intercom.
"Never mind, Gerald. Thank you for the muffins," I called before Mrs. Upton could speak.
She frowned at me, but it only lasted a moment. "You used to sit on that stool every morning before school," she said with a fond smile.
I couldn't help but return her expression. Mrs. Upton had been the only maternal source I had ever known. Mrs. Miller, my mother, was better at ordering up my care than actually giving it.
"I remember, and I miss that," I told Mrs. Upton. "And, I'll admit I am considering moving back to the main house."
My housekeeper gave a quick squeal of excitement that she promptly covered with her apron. "Really?"
I laughed. "I think I'm getting a little old for the garage clubhouse, don't you? Besides, someone has to keep an eye on you."
"Oh, this is wonderful!" The older woman's eyes filled with tears. "Shall I call the decorator? Your mother officially signed the deed over to you years ago; I just never said anything. You're free to change anything you want."
I groaned and put my coffee mug back on the wide marble island. "This doesn't mean I'm going to fill my parents' role. This is just where I live. Understand? There won't be any decorators, dinner parties, or, god forbid, soirees."
"Understood. Very good, sir." Mrs. Upton bit her lip, but her wide grin was impossible to hide. "Might I inquire about your change of heart?"
I kissed her cheek again and stole a muffin from the basket. It was still warm. "No, Mrs. Upton. There's no particular reason. It just seems like the right time."
"Oh, yes, sir. It does!"
I headed for the door. The last thing I wanted to admit was why I had changed my mind. Seeing Jessa struggle to fit in with her own privileged life had given me the courage to face my own identity again. It was time to face up to who I was; and if that gave me a better chance with a woman like Jessa, then I knew it was something I had to do.
"Don't worry, sir. I'll have the place gleaming by the time you return. Should I tell Mr. Stantan to expect you'll be bringing a date home to dinner tonight?" Mrs. Upton asked.
I stopped in the cavernous foyer and considered the shining parquet floor. It shouldn't have surprised me that Mrs. Upton could read me like a book.
I shook my head. "I'm not really the kind to date no matter where I live," I reminded her.
"Nonsense," Mrs. Upton said. "In fact, your mother sent an email with a nice list of suitable women quite willing to overlook
your little mistake. Shall I pass it along to you?"
My derisive snort echoed up to the crystal chandelier and back down. "She's still trying to set me up? A whole ocean between us and she still can't leave me alone."
"Your mother just wants what's best for you," Mrs. Upton said.
"And what do you want?" I countered.
My housekeeper's chin went up a notch. "I want you to find love and be happy, and I don't care who it's with."
I hugged her. "Thank you. And, don't worry, I would tell you if there was someone I wanted to date. You'd be the first to know."
She studied my face but decided to let me keep my secrets. "You've more than paid your dues. You deserve happiness, Dayton. Don't ever forget that."
"Can I trust you to move all my things over from the garage?" I asked.
My housekeeper brightened and rubbed her hands together in anticipation. "Nothing would make me happier."
"Then that's why I'm moving back in," I told her. "We both deserve a little happiness."
She swatted me affectionately on the shoulder and then waved as I headed back to the garage to get my work truck. The sweet exchange kept me smiling all the way into the city.
Then I remembered the scene between Jessa and Robert and my knuckles tightened on the steering wheel.
Why couldn't my happiness be an unattached, single woman?
I had tried to get Jessa out of my mind. The days in between her visits, I invested myself completely in my work and told myself it was all I needed. But then I went and did things like requesting a new wardrobe and moving back into my parents' mansion. My mansion. All in the hopes that someday Jessa would look in my direction.
And it didn't even matter if she did because she was engaged!
"Well, you look like a ray of sunshine," Mike said when I stomped up the metal steps of our office trailer.
"Why are there still tiles missing on the portico?" I barked. "Don't tell me that crew broke another set."
Mike held up both hands. "Nobody's broken anything. I made them wait because the fog left us too much moisture. They'll be on by this afternoon."
"Fine. What about the pneumatic tubes? Jessa, I mean, Ms. Lauren managed to find the right copper caps, and I promised they would be in full working order." Her name on my lips just deteriorated my mood even farther.
"I still don't see what good they are besides a novelty, but I've got guys cleaning out the tubes as we speak. God knows what gunk has built up in them," Mike said. He eyed me suspiciously. "Everything all right, boss?"
"Fine. Everything's fine. Except if I hear one more thing about the gate on the elevator sticking, I'm going to fire someone," I snapped.
Jessa had dug up an original photograph of the lobby during the grand opening. The elevator had a burnished gate cut into the shape of two great wings that pulled aside separate from the elevator doors. She had then commissioned an artist to recreate the design. It looked great, but the gate did not glide open and shut the way it was supposed to.
I was beginning to regret offering her the chance to help. She was becoming a distraction, a delay, and I was tired of how often her name crossed my lips.
Every time I talked about her, all I could think about was how she'd never be mine. Was she really going to marry that colossal asshole, Robert?
"So, you want me to give you the update or are you not done ranting?" Mike asked.
"As long as you can walk and talk," I told him.
Mike rolled his eyes and followed me up the front steps. A small knot of our crew stood around outside the front door gossiping about something. I headed straight for them, ready for any chance to let off a little steam.
"What the hell do you all think you're doing just standing around?" I yelled.
The men shifted but didn't finish their conversation until I got close enough to hear: "he got all red in the face. It was hilarious!"
"Tony had a hammer ready. He thought the guy might actually hit her. I've never seen anyone so unhinged."
"If you ask me, he deserved it. That jerk-off double-parked me in all morning," another worker said.
The men saw my face and quickly scattered. I wanted to call them back and ask what they were talking about but it was too late. Instead, I wandered aimlessly into the lobby.
Mike cleared his throat. "If you want to inspect the elevator gate, it's this way."
I nodded. The men were probably talking about some domestic scene they'd witnessed that had nothing to do with Jessa. It was insane that my heart jumped with hope. There was eight stories worth of office workers; it could have been anyone.
I watched the men sanding down and adjusting the gate's track and then turned to stare blindly as the new mural artist sketched out the first scene he had been commissioned to recreate.
Finally, Mike cleared his throat again. "Since you're not going to ask, want me to tell you?"
"You know what that was all about?" I asked.
Mike grinned. "Witnessed it first hand. I knew as soon as I saw him coming there was going to be trouble."
"Robert?" I snarled.
Mike laughed. "No need to get all attack dog. Your girl took care of things on her own. And half a dozen of your crew were hiding out in case she needed backup."
"Tony with a hammer?" My mind was going too slow to catch up.
"Yeah. Mr. Duncan did lose it a bit when she dumped him flat out," Mike said.
"Dumped him?"
Mike nodded. "Threw the ring back in his face and everything. Right there under the chandelier."
I looked up at the glittering crystal above us and felt the lobby start to spin. Jessa had broken off her engagement. She was free. My mind whirled with all the possibilities I had thought were only foolish daydreams.
Chapter 7
Jessa
I was afraid of the social backlash I'd face as soon as I got out of bed. Robert had not taken our break-up well, and I was sure he'd spread at least a dozen rumors about me over the last four days. Even that did not dim the fact that I was free.
It felt amazing to wake up with a smile. My maid had already delivered a tray with French press coffee and a bowl of fruit. I ate it with relish and wondered what exactly I should do with my new-found freedom.
My life was simple and leisurely by any standard, but it had always felt regimented and controlled to me. The latest diet trends formed my meals. Fashion designers dictated what someone of my status should wear. The social calendar planned my days.
The only decision I had made for myself was dumping Robert.
I stood in my vast closet and felt rebellion burning in my chest like a lit fuse. Why couldn't I mix designers and create something new? My fingers trembled with joy as I mixed and matched my carefully curated pieces and created an outfit that felt new and fresh.
When I faced the mirror, it was hard to see anything but my own wide smile.
Normally I knotted my long hair into a classic bun or carefully tucked chignon. It took forever to brush it out every night and twist it into a smooth braid. I shook it out and marveled at its softness and shine. Maybe today I'd wear it loose like I hadn't dared since grade school. I wanted to feel the wild strands brushing against my face as I went about my day.
On a typical day, I ordered Jeffers to take me to a favored boutique or design house. As a Lauren, I was expected to stay on top of all that was trendy and new and the majority of each morning was spent seeking out things that would make the other women in my social set jealous. To not be seen by eleven o'clock would automatically start rumors that I was ill or having an illicit affair.
I lounged in my mother's beautiful rose garden, soaking up the sun that I normally avoided, and hoped people would think I was having an affair. There was already enough of a scandal with my broken engagement, why not let it go farther?
By lunch, my household staff was nervous and hovered around in the periphery wondering if maybe I was on the verge of a breakdown. I finally gave them peace of mind by ordering Jeffers
to bring the car around.
"Luncheon at the Fairmount?" Jeffers asked. His even tone made it more of a stated fact than a question.
"Not today. How about you just drop me off at the Embarcadero," I suggested.
The limousine slowed as Jeffers' foot slipped off the gas pedal. He gave me one incredulous look in the rear view mirror and then caught himself. He dropped me off on the sunny walkway near the Bay Bridge and gave the long, steep street to my father's office a worried look.
"Don't worry. I'm fine," I told him.
Who could blame me for wanting to enjoy the beautiful day?
Still, the shadows cast by the skyscrapers in the Financial District called me, and I soon found myself strolling towards my father's office. It was invigorating to share the sidewalk with the throngs of businesspeople hurrying to their jobs.
When my phone rang, I imagined I was just like the stockbrokers rushing along as they barked numbers into their phones.
"You've gone crazy," Karina said.
I laughed. "Hello and good morning to you too."
"Not only did you miss espresso at Saks, but now I hear you're walking the streets. Is it really that bad?" my best friend asked.
"It's really that good. Hey, instead of a fancy luncheon, how about we try something fun?" I asked.
Karina giggled. "You know I'm always in for fun. What does my single friend have in mind?"
"Have you ever eaten at a taco truck?"
Karina's sleek town car dropped her off minutes later, and she jumped out with a broad smile. "I almost didn't recognize you. You look fabulous!"
I let her coo over my choice of outfit and loose hair but fended off her questions. Karina had stayed at my mansion the rest of the night after my break-up, but she knew she wasn't getting the full story.
"Robert's a jerk, and that's that," I said.
We found a sunny spot on a low wall across the street from my father's office building and unwrapped our tacos. Karina laughed as I fumbled with the unfamiliar street food, but she wouldn't be deterred.
"I know something else is going on. You've been acting funny since the beginning of October. Are you going to tell me or do I have to guess?" Karina asked.
Billionaire's Match Page 4
