by HELEN HARDT
In truth, part of me wanted to do just that.
He was gorgeous, but I’d met many gorgeous men who wanted me. As a showgirl, I was pursued often. I always said no.
Reid was a billionaire.
Pretty cool, but if anything, that was a turn-off for me. I had nothing against money—I wished I had a lot more of it—but money couldn’t change what had happened to me at his father’s hand.
No, his looks and money weren’t why I was interested.
I was interested because he was kind to me. I knew he wanted something from me, but he wasn’t pushing me. Of course, he could be playing an elaborate game. I was far from naïve, mostly thanks to his father.
The limo dropped me off, and I hopped out, navigating my way into the lobby and then through the casino of the grand hotel to get to the restaurant for brunch. Reid stood, dressed casually and looking yummy in dark blue jeans and a white button-down, waiting for me. His blue eyes brightened when he met my gaze.
“Morning,” he said.
“Good morning.”
He grabbed my hand—tingles shot through me—and led me into the restaurant.
“Mr. Wolfe,” the hostess said, “your table’s all ready.”
Once we were situated and our server had taken our drink orders, Reid smiled.
“How are you today, Zee?”
“Good, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“Yeah. I was hoping to get in with my stylist today before my call, but she isn’t answering her line.”
“Oh.” Reid picked up his phone and punched in a few numbers. “Hi there. This is Reid Wolfe in Suite 2700. I need a salon and spa appointment right away.”
My eyes shot wide.
“Right. No, not for me. For a Ms. Zara Jones. An hour? Perfect.” He ended the call. Then to me, “You’re all set. Here at the salon and spa. Right after brunch.”
My jaw dropped. Seriously, I almost had to pick it up off the table.
Finally, I found my voice. “I can’t afford anything here.”
“You don’t have to. It’s all on me. I do own this hotel, after all.”
My mouth dropped open again.
“I know, I know,” Reid said. “I’m being presumptuous again, right?”
“A little.”
“I get it. You wouldn’t accept the shoes, and I understand, but I want you to look at this a different way.”
“How exactly is that?”
“My father put you through hell, and I want to help make up for it.”
“But—”
“Please. I know nothing can make up for what he did to you. But let me try. Please. I need to.”
“I… You don’t have to. I…got a settlement.”
“And if I know my father, he gouged you on that too.”
“I didn’t want much. Just enough to pay for the rehab and to start over somewhere new.”
“You should have asked for the world. You had him over a barrel.”
“I…”
“I’m sorry.” He took my hand. “That didn’t come out how I meant it to. I realize what he put you through. How much courage it took to ever look at him again. You’re strong, Zee.”
“I’m not,” I said, staring at my menu.
“Look at me.”
I met his gaze. His eyes were so beautiful. And so kind.
“Let me help. I need to. I know giving you things doesn’t make up for what he did to you. What you’ll always have to live with. But it’s all I have, and I want to do it.”
His hand was so big and so warm. I felt comforted—comforted in a way I hadn’t felt since…
Maybe ever?
I certainly never got comfort from my mother. When she couldn’t live out her showbiz aspirations through me, she kind of wrote me off. My father was never in the picture. I couldn’t pick him out of a lineup.
Just when I was going places, had my college all set up…
Derek Wolfe had happened.
Then my spiral into drugs.
When I’d finally seen the light, I’d gone to Derek Wolfe. I’d had no choice. I needed money to pay off my rehab debt and start anew.
The sad fact? Reid was right. I should have asked for more. I could have gone public with my story. I could have ruined Derek Wolfe.
Why hadn’t I?
I remembered so little about the actual negotiation. Derek had an attorney, of course, and I didn’t.
Somehow, I got talked into…
It was all a muddle. I tried not to think of certain times in my life, and that was one of them.
“Okay,” I finally said.
“Okay…?”
“I’ll go to the appointment.”
A wide smile lit up his face, making him even more gorgeous. “Great! Four hours for whatever you want. Hair, nails, facial, massage. You name it.”
“I’m not sure I have four hours. My call’s at three.”
“Then you can go back another time for the rest.”
“It’s all very generous of you. Thank you.”
Reid started to say something, but our server interrupted him.
“Are you ready, Mr. Wolfe?”
Reid gestured to me. “Zee?”
I quickly scanned the menu. I hadn’t really given it a look. “I’ll have the yogurt parfait, please.”
“That’s all?” Reid asked.
I smiled. “After I overate last night, it’s all I can afford today. I have to fit into my costume tonight.”
He didn’t push. “I’ll have the eggs benedict with a side of fresh fruit.”
“Very good.” The server rushed away.
After our coffee cups had been refilled, Reid’s phone buzzed. “I’m sorry. I have to take this. Do you mind?”
“Of course not.”
“Thanks. Excuse me.” He rose and walked outside the restaurant.
A few seconds later, my own phone buzzed. My stylist, Cheree. No doubt returning my call about an appointment.
I didn’t answer.
I already had an appointment.
And truth be told, I was looking forward to it.
Reid returned fifteen minutes later, and our food arrived. We didn’t talk a lot as we ate. Reid seemed preoccupied.
“Is everything okay?” I finally asked.
He swallowed his bite of food. “Nothing for you to worry about.”
“I’m not worried. I mean…you just seem a little different. Was that phone call bad news?”
“Not really.”
He didn’t sound convinced, though, and I didn’t believe him. “Can I help?”
He regarded me, his gaze serious. “Maybe.”
Uh-oh. I’d walked right into that one. He was going to ask again that I tell my story. I felt like I was going to puke all over my yogurt.
But I’d offered. “How?” I asked.
“Looks like I have to get back to New York earlier than expected. Can you come with me?”
Say what?
“No. Why would you need me to?”
“Zee,” he said, “you’re the only one who knows about my father’s extracurricular hunting activities.”
I gulped. “Yeah…but you said…”
“That I wouldn’t push. And I won’t. Neither will my brothers and sister. But something has come up in the case, and we need you now more than ever.”
“Reid, I—”
“I’m leaving this evening. I want you to come with me.”
“My show…”
“Do you have any PTO?”
“Paid time off? Yeah, but they like a little more than an hour’s notice.”
“I can take care of it for you.”
“You don’t know my director.”
He smiled. “Your director doesn’t know me.”
I had no answer for that. He was no doubt right. The Wolfes made things happen on a daily basis. He might pay off my director. We had subs who were available at a moment’s notice. This could definitely happen.
Still,
I had a work ethic. This wasn’t me.
“I’m not asking you to take time off for a luxury cruise or something,” Reid continued. “This is important. My family is at stake here. One of us could go down for something we didn’t do.”
“I don’t know, Reid.”
“If you say no, I’ll let it drop,” he said. “But please, Zee. Please.”
20
Reid
“It means a flight in our private jet,” I prodded.
Then I wanted to punch myself. Money and luxury didn’t matter to Zee. A simple life where she was safe and comfortable did.
That was the weapon I needed to use.
“Look,” I said. “If you come, and we can get the other guy who hurt you behind bars, you won’t have to be afraid anymore.”
She still didn’t look up at me.
Time to give up. I cared for her, and I’d promised I wouldn’t push.
“Never mind.” I forced a smile and squeezed her hand. “I understand. I’m sorry I have to leave so soon. I was hoping we’d get to spend a little more time together.”
“I’d have liked that.”
“Me too.” I let her hand go and took a sip of coffee.
“I suppose…”
“What?”
“You don’t want me to go to the spa appointment now.”
Was she kidding? “Zee, of course I want you to go. It’s a gift. It’s nothing compared to what you’ve been through with my father. Please. Go. I want you to go.”
She nodded. “Okay. Thank you again.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“When are you leaving?”
“This evening. Five p.m.”
She nodded again.
If you change your mind… The words hovered on the tip of my tongue. I wanted her to change her mind, but not for the reasons she was thinking.
I wanted more time with Zee. Wanted to get to know her better.
Wanted to get her into bed, for sure, but if that didn’t happen, I was okay. I actually didn’t mind the idea of going slowly with her.
Not on brand at all for the Wolfe of Manhattan.
Really weird.
But I’d promised her I’d let it drop if she said no.
We finished our breakfast, and I signed the check. Then we stood and left the restaurant. I brushed my lips over hers. “Enjoy your appointment.”
“I will. Thank you again.”
She headed away, following the signs to the salon and spa.
My gut ached when I realized I wouldn’t see her again before I left.
And maybe not ever.
I sat on the jet, which was parked at one of the private terminals at McCarran Airport. The pilot was awaiting final instructions from the air traffic controller, when my phone buzzed with a text.
Zee’s number.
I changed my mind. May I still come?
My heart jumped as I lunged out of my seat and ran into the cockpit. “Captain,” I said to the pilot. “How long do we have?”
“About twenty minutes until we’ll be cleared to leave the gate, but that could change.”
“Great. We may have to delay. We’re going to have another passenger.”
“I’ve already filed the flight plan, Mr. Wolfe.”
“I know, I know. I’ll take care of the paperwork. Hold tight, will you?”
I quickly texted Zee.
Yes. Where are you?
At the airport.
Perfect. If she was already here, we could definitely make this work.
I had to buy a ticket, her text continued. They wouldn’t let me through security without one. I’ll send you my flight information.
I texted back. Don’t be silly. You’ll fly with me. I’ll send someone to escort you to the private terminal. Where are you?
Heading toward my D gate.
Okay. Stay where you are. Someone will escort you to where I am.
I hastily made the arrangements and told the pilot to stand by. He didn’t look too happy with me, but he nodded. He was well paid to be on call for our family.
My heart was pounding and my skin tingling like an adolescent schoolboy whose crush had just said she liked him too.
Really off brand.
She texted again. How will I know if he’s legit?
Good question. Zee wouldn’t go off with just anyone. She knew better from experience.
He’ll have my number. Ask him to call me, and then ask to speak to me.
Okay.
Good. That seemed to work for her. No way would I let anything happen to her. That was why she was flying to New York with me and not on some commercial flight.
Ten minutes passed. The captain was updating the flight manifest and dealing with air traffic control. The flight attendants were seated, waiting for further instructions.
My phone buzzed.
“Mr. Wolfe, this is Ron James with airport security. I’m here with Ms. Jones. She’d like to speak with you.”
“Yes, please put her on.”
“Reid?”
Her voice. How happy I was to hear her voice.
“It’s me,” I said.
“So this guy’s cool?”
“Yes, you’ll be safe with him. He’ll bring you to the jet. See you in a bit.”
“Okay. Thanks, Reid. Bye.”
I headed to the cockpit to let the pilot know our passenger was on her way. “She’s in D concourse. A security guy is escorting her.”
“That’s about another twenty minutes, if they hurry,” he said. “I’ll update air traffic control.”
“Thanks.”
I conferred with the flight attendants quickly, ordering bottled water for Zee when she arrived.
The rest of the time passed slowly, as if I were a child waiting those last few days before Christmas.
Crazy, how Zee was affecting me.
Finally, she and her escort walked through the gate and onto the plane.
And my eyes nearly popped out of my head.
21
Zee
Several hours earlier…
“Good morning, Ms. Jones,” the receptionist at the salon and spa greeted me. “Have you had a chance to look at our brochure?”
“No, I’m afraid not.”
“Mr. Wolfe said we’re to give you whatever services you’d like over the next four hours.” She smiled and handed me a paper. “Everything’s listed here. Please let me know what you’d like, and I’ll tell your stylist and therapist.”
I raked my gaze over the brochure. “There aren’t any prices listed.”
“Correct. Mr. Wolfe has prepaid for anything you want.”
“But I’d like to know…”
“He asked that we print up a list without prices.”
“Why?”
She smiled again. “You’d have to ask him.”
Because he didn’t want me to feel like I had to choose something less expensive. I knew already why he’d done it. It was sweet, actually. He wanted me to have the services I desired without being constrained by price.
“So what looks good to you?” she asked.
“I definitely want a hair treatment. A color.”
“The same color you have now?”
“No. I want to go back to my natural color, or as close as the colorist can get.”
“What else?”
The sky was truly the limit. My only constraint was time.
“A manicure and pedicure?” I asked.
“Of course.”
“That will probably take up all my time, right?”
“No. We have several staff members who can work on you at the same time, so you may choose something else. A Swedish massage, perhaps?”
I’d never had a massage before. Not even at Massage Avenue, despite the white lie I’d told Mo earlier. It always seemed too expensive and too decadent.
“All right,” I finally said. “A massage it is.”
“Anything else?”
“What else could I poss
ibly have time for?”
“I’d recommend the salt glow before your massage. It will exfoliate all the dead skin cells from your body so the lotions can penetrate deeper. Also, our revitalizing facial. I believe we can fit all of that in.”
What the heck? “Sounds great.” I handed the paper back to her. “Let’s do it.”
“Absolutely. You’ll be happy to know that Mr. Wolfe also added a generous gratuity for your services, so you won’t need to worry about that when you check out.”
Worry about that? I hadn’t even considered the tip. For this number of services, at twenty percent, it would be outrageous. Thank you, I said silently to Reid.
A woman wearing a white coat led me to the locker room and provided me with a robe and slippers. Once I’d undressed, I sat in the “grotto” inhaling a lovely lavender aroma until another woman dressed in a white coat came for me.
“Ms. Jones?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“I’m Eileen, your hair stylist. If you’ll follow me, please.”
We ended up in a private room. “This can’t be right.”
“It is. You’ve been booked in one of our solo suites. All your services will take place in here.” She nodded toward a bubbling hot tub. “Feel free to relax in the tub between services.”
This was ridiculously decadent. Damn it, Reid Wolfe. I didn’t want to like him as much as I did.
I erased that from my mind. I’d never like someone just because he spent a boatload of money on me. I wasn’t that woman.
“What can I do for you today?” Eileen asked, after I sat down in the chair.
“I want to go blond. It’s my natural color.”
“Not a problem. I’ll have to bleach your hair to get the black color out.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Don’t worry, though. We condition thoroughly here, and your hair won’t suffer any damage.”
“Good.”
“Take a look.” She handed me a color chart. “Which color works best?”
Pretty crazy to consider. I hadn’t actually seen my natural color in years, other than in my roots. I chose a honey blond, which was slightly lighter than what I imagined my natural color to be.
“Perfect,” Eileen said. “Let’s get started.”
From there I was prodded and pampered for the next four hours.
