Sexual Persuasion (23 page)

He strode the long hall to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee, then took the shopping bag into his office. He’d just skimmed the material last night. What he saw this morning was dynamite. He assumed the videos to be as bad or worse. He now had no compunctions about what he’d done or was about to do. Davidson was a bottom feeder, and he deserved what he was going to get.

“Where’d you go? I rolled over, and you were gone.”

Charlotte wore nothing but panties and one of his dress shirts. Only two buttons were fastened, and she looked sexier than if she were naked. Her tousled hair gave her that
fuck me
look that jerked Alex’s cock from sleepy to alert, but he had too much to prepare for tomorrow to be sidetracked.

“That’s my favorite shirt. It looks better on you than on me. I’d make a dramatic statement and tear it off you, but I like that shirt.”

She laughed. “It’s easy to unbutton.” Sidling up behind him, she asked, “You looking at Jack’s stash?”

“Yeah.
I’ll go over them more thoroughly at my office.”

“Nasty stuff, huh?”

“Invasive. Jack’s an even worse slug than we thought.”

“Nothing about him surprises me.”

“I should be getting a call from Jack within the hour. He is not going to be happy.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Call a meeting with Max tomorrow morning.” On top of the complicated mess with Jack, an unexpected development arose he’d have to face. One he didn’t look forward to. In fact, he wished he could go to sleep with Charlotte in his arms and wake up the day after tomorrow, because tomorrow was going to be a very tense day.

“I’d better change. Even lowly store owners have appointments, and I have one at ten.”

The coffee was ready by the time Charlotte got out of the bathroom. She wore last night’s clothes, little makeup, and bare feet. Clothed or unclothed, he wanted to take her. Instead, he willed his dick to behave and poured two cups of coffee. They sat at the kitchen bar and shared a bagel and cream cheese.

After,
Alex drove Charlotte to her apartment. He leaned over and kissed her. “I’ll be busy all day to prepare for tomorrow. I’ll call you later.”

“Promise?”

“You know I don’t lie.” He kissed her again and watched as she opened her door and went inside.

* * * * *

Charlotte quickly changed clothes. The store opened at ten, and she wanted to be there when the designer she was working with came.

Lenore had already arrived. She lifted
Charlotte’s chin. “You look, um, I don’t know, different.”

“Do I?”

“Yeah, like you’re refreshed. Or maybe it’s love.”

“Does it show?”

“Woo-hoo! The woman’s got a man. And a hot one at that.”

“Oh, Lenore, he’s nice and soft and hard and exciting and tender and―”

“Whoa, girl. Those are too many adjectives for me to digest in one sentence.”

Charlotte
overflowed with the need to tell someone. Darcy had clearly stated her opinion about Alex. She trusted Lenore, and Lenore liked Alex. So Charlotte told her everything that happened except his love affair seventeen years ago and the film with Jack as star. The first was Alex’s secret life, and she wouldn’t break that confidence, and the second had clearly crossed an ethical and legal line. She found out something about herself when she willingly took part of the sting to take Jack down. She didn’t like it, but because it was Jack, she could live with what she’d done.

“I’d hold on to that one, Charlotte. He sounds like a winner. And he looks like a god.”

Charlotte worked with the designer for an hour, glad both her designers and Lenore were there to cover the busy morning. She went upstairs to grab a quick lunch and came down to bump into Gianni Caravelli. The name hit her like an avalanche. Gianni, not Johnny. That was how she’d heard the name of Alex’s lover. Johnny. Alex said his Gianni, or Johnny, was an architect who still lived in the area. This man lived in Lexington, which was
in the area
. Charlotte’s stomach turned over. It couldn’t be. The timing would be too coincidental, freaky even, if he hadn’t been coming into the store regularly ever since he finished the house he designed for himself. He said she carried merchandise no one else did, and he could always find what he needed. Why hadn’t she thought of him when Alex mentioned his name?

Gianni Caravelli was as handsome as Alex, if not more so, and not flagrantly gay, but
Charlotte knew he was. He came in once with a woman, obviously a client. His other companions were men, all good-looking, all gay.

He flashed a
captivating smile. “Hi, Charlotte. Just the person I want to see. In fact, I asked Vickie where you were.”

Charlotte
’s mouth went dry. She tried to churn up enough saliva to speak. Was she looking at her lover’s old lover? “Gianni. Hi. What can I do for you?”

“The last time I was in, I saw a beautiful stained-glass panel. Do you still have it? It’s not on the floor. Say you have it hidden away, please.”

“I don’t think we sold it. I’ll ask Lenore. She does the paperwork and knows who sold what. Look around. I’ll be right back.” She wobbled into the office, legs ready to give out from under her. After closing the door, she backed up against it and took deep breaths. She knew they still had the glass, but she needed time to collect herself.

“What’s the matter, honey? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Charlotte fell into her chair.

“This is such a small town. Even the suburbs are closing in. I wondered if I knew everyone in it. Today I found out I did.”

“What? Who?”

She wanted to tell, but she couldn’t. She wouldn’t.
“Someone out of my past. But he left already. It threw me. That’s all.”

“Not Jack Davidson.”

“No. Forget it, Lenore. I just needed a minute. Forget it.” She got up.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Open the door.

Go into the showroom.

“Gianni, we still have it. Someone put a hold on it, and she called yesterday to say she didn’t want it. We put it in the stockroom and haven’t put it back on the floor. So it’s yours.”

“Fantastic. Her loss, my gain.”

“How’s the house coming?”

“It’s finished. I’m moving in this weekend. There’s so much to do.” He checked his watch. “Oops, gotta run. I’m meeting with the love of my life tomorrow, and I have lots to do before then. I’m going to convince him to move in with me. I’m sure he will. Wish me luck, Charlotte.”

“Sure, Gianni.
Good luck.”

“Oh, what days do you deliver?”

“Fridays only. So let me know when you want the glass.”

“Will do.
Forgot. My house will be in
Boston Magazine
on the tenth. They’ve done a full feature. I’m having a big party when everything is ready. I’ll send you an invite. Bring a date.”

“Great. I’d love to come.”
But if I’m right, I won’t be bringing a date.

Stripping to Ella

Charlotte didn’t know what Alex meant by “later.” She knew he had lots on his mind. If she did see him, should she tell him about Gianni Caravelli? Maybe. Maybe not. She could still be wrong.

Six o’clock. Alex still hadn’t called. As Lenore was leaving,
Charlotte asked, “Lenore, can you think of any other architects in town named Johnny besides Caravelli?”

“You know Gianni is spelled the Italian way.”

“I know.”

“Let me think. There’s John
Beacham, but I doubt anyone ever called that stuffed shirt Johnny. Oh, and John Clay from Architectural Associates, but he comes in here once a year when he’s doing a show house. I’m sure there are more, but I can’t think of them. Few do interiors, and if they do, they go to the trade showrooms for merchandise. They rarely buy retail, even though you give them a healthy discount. Check the phone book.”

“I will.”

“Good night, hon. Got a date tonight with Alex?”

“No. I’m hanging around.”

“Well, see you tomorrow.”

Charlotte
locked up and pulled out the phone book.

Architects.
Architects.

She saw Gianni’s listing in Lexington; then she
Googled him. He had done some impressive work. The articles she found mentioned nothing about partners, business or otherwise.

Why am I looking anyway? If Gianni was Alex’s lover, it was seventeen years ago. Why should I be interested now?

She turned off the computer and went through the day’s receipts, surprised it had been a better than good day. One of the most profitable days outside the Christmas season. Maybe her weekly ad had something to do with it. Word must have finally spread to the suburbs. Still, for all the good business news, she felt lonely and hated herself for being so needy. After Jack, she had vowed that the new Charlotte wouldn’t sit around and wait for anyone, not even Alex. She went upstairs to call Darcy. She’d called her earlier in the week to find out that her mother was doing fine after a ministroke.

“How’s your mom doing?”

“Much better. She’s home and her old cantankerous self. That’s always a good sign. What’s up?”

“Just calling to see if you’re free for dinner.”

“Sorry, honey. I have a date. You know, that guy I told you about from legal aid. No money, but he’s cute and nice and not an asshole.”

“Great, Darcy.
Some other night. Call me.”

“Uh, what happened to the lawyer? I thought you two were hot and heavy.”

“He had some business tonight, so I’m all alone.”

“Well, remember, honey, a leopard doesn’t change its spots.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just―oh, nothing.
Forget I said it. Gotta run. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Charlotte
hung up with an angry streak running through her. Darcy had made up her mind about Alex from the beginning. What kind of lawyer did that without knowing the facts? Well, she was wrong, and Charlotte wouldn’t discuss Alex’s private life to prove it.

She opened a bottle of cabernet and poured a full glass. She was rummaging through the cupboards for something salty, nuts or chips, when the phone rang. She picked up the receiver, and Alex’s voice flipped her heart.

“Are you busy?” he asked.

“No. I’m all by my lonesome, and lonesome.”

“Can I come over? We can go out to dinner and then make love.”

“Or we can make love, then go out to dinner.”

“Better. I’m downstairs. Be right up.”

When he buzzed, she pressed the door latch to let him in. Playfully, she waited for him to get to the door before she opened it. “Are you sure it’s you?”

“Let’s see. How can I prove it? The Regent, sex, Jacuzzi, sex. Bagel and cream cheese in the morning, no time for sex.”

“Then I guess it’s you.” She opened the door and threw her arms around him. “I hoped you’d come tonight.”

“I can’t stay away.” He kissed her, pressing her ass so she mashed tightly against him.

He wore black jeans and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He looked like a male model in a glossy cologne ad―the kind where a sexy cowboy is smothered by a gorgeous half-naked model who bragged how his scent captured her.

He kissed her again. “I missed you. After a long day at my office watching Jack Davidson’s videos and calculating what I have to do tomorrow, I started to lose my concentration when I thought about you.”

“You look tired. Why don’t you crash on the sofa? I’ll pour you a glass of wine.”

“Sounds great.”

Charlotte took a quick sip from her goblet and went into the kitchen to get one for Alex. When she came back, Alex lay stretched on the sofa with his eyes closed. Could he have fallen asleep in such a short time? She sat on the edge of the cushion. He opened his eyes.

“You
are
tired.”

He nodded. “Even though I slept with a luscious babe last night, I got up way too early. You must be tired too.”

“I slept longer.”

“Sorry for being such a dud. I should have gone home to bed. I’m usually an eight-hour guy. Burning the candle at both ends is not my style. But I wanted to see you.” He sipped his wine, then set it on the table. He put both hands on her shoulders and pulled her to him, then kissed her. She kissed him back.

“If you’d rather go home, I’ll understand.”

He shook his head. “No, I’d rather be with you, even though I’m not sure I’m up for too much.”

She stood and moved away. He reached out to grab her, but she dodged his hand. She picked up a fancy lighter from the coffee table, lit half a dozen candles around the room, and then moved to the bookcase and slipped an Ella Fitzgerald CD into the turntable. Her sultry voice purred the Cole Porter song through the speakers. Both the rhythm and words were perfect as she moved sensuously around the room, humming the lyrics.