The Virgin's Night Out (21 page)

He was almost certain that he and Mara would be having an interesting discussion come Monday.

“Would you yank that stick out of your ass?” Mara bit off in a low voice as they settled into the line wrapping around the block.

Cole glanced down at her and then away. “Sweetheart, I’m so pissed off right now, you’d be wise to leave me alone unless you just
want
to go in there alone.” Unlike her, he didn’t bother lowering his voice. She squeezed his arm, her nails biting into his skin through his jacket. “And I’m rather certain you didn’t bring
your
checkbook.”

“What is your problem?” she snapped.

“Other than you expecting me to play man-whore just to get you information you don’t
need
?” He looked at her, tried to remember when she’d become this self-centered, this cold. Had she always been this way and he just hadn’t seen it? He didn’t know.

People were staring at them now. Cole didn’t care.

The line shifted forward and Mara waited until they’d settled again before she whispered, “Would you keep your voice down?”

“If you don’t want people to stare, then stop talking to me about this,” he replied. “We can discuss it later or not at all.”

He stared down at her, at that icy beauty and realized...he felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. He couldn’t even remember when that had started, but it wasn’t a new thing, this apathy. Shit, this was sad. Abruptly, the anger drained away and he just felt tired. Damn tired. But one thing was clear...he didn’t need a few days away to decide what he needed, what he didn’t need, what he wanted, what he didn’t want.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he looked away. “Mara, we need to talk, but now isn’t the time. Let’s just try to relax and enjoy the night, okay?”

“Enjoy it?” A smile curled her lips, but there was nothing pleasant about it. “This isn’t about
enjoying
ourselves, baby. It’s about getting what I want. We’ll enjoy ourselves later.”

She slid him a coy look that left him unmoved. Blowing out a breath, he focused on the line as it shifted closer to the shop. This must be one hell of a party, considering how many people are here, he mused.

“It’s one hell of a party,” Lacey said, smiling at her best friend in the mirror as Rocki checked her reflection one last time.

It was almost nine. Almost time for her to make her appearance.

Lush & Lace
shared a wall with the restaurant next door, and in the back, in an area that was generally for “employees only” on Rocki’s side, there was a door that connected the two businesses. For the yearly benefit, those two double doors were open wide and people flowed back and forth, checking out Rocki’s merchandise, nibbling at the finger foods, helping themselves to the cash bar.

By the time the auction started at ten, both bachelors and bachelorettes would be feeling mighty fine and ready to bid. Rocki was heading the event as she always did, but she still wanted to look good. After all, her store’s merchandise was being displayed here. And on her...

Smoothing a hand down the front of her red corset, she turned to make sure the laces in the back were smooth and even. Bare skin showed underneath, gleaming pale against the garnet red satin. Satisfied with the way the back looked, Rocki turned around and studied the front. The garter straps, each set with a rose the same color as her corset, held up the floor-length satin skirt to just a little above mid-thigh, displaying her legs, encased in black silk stockings.

She was objective enough to admit she looked good. Taking the black top hat, Rocki set it on top of her head, adjusting the angle. Five more seconds—she gave herself five more seconds to hesitate, to be alone with her thoughts.

Five more seconds to think about the fact that another one of those odd cards had arrived, with another picture of her—this one of her inside the store, taken through the window. There hadn’t been anything on the back, again. But it still disturbed her. And she couldn’t ignore it if any more came. She was probably being careless to ignore them this long. Brant had enough friends on the force that she knew—she could get in touch with one of them. Show them the pictures...maybe even somebody would remember. She could talk to Lacey’s brother. She knew Clayton would take her seriously.

Okay, five seconds gone. Worry about it after.

Rocki blew out a breath. “Okay. Let’s go blow people out of the water,” she said, smiling at Lacey in the reflection.

“Can’t you at least
try
to help me find her?” Mara demanded as he swirled his wine around and stared off into the crowd.

“Find who?” Cole asked, even though he knew exactly who she was talking about.

“The designer, damn it. You
know
who.” She blew out a breath. “I’ve asked like five people and they just say ‘she’s around’ or ‘she’s busy’ and nobody will point her out. Maybe they’ll talk to you.”

“You think?” He studied her disgruntled expression. “Not likely. You see, I’m not going to ask.”

She gaped at him. “Why not? Don’t you realize how important this is?”

“No. Because you can get another designer.”

“I don’t
want
another one.” Flags of color rode high on her cheeks, her hands closing into tight fists. “Damn it, Cole, I can’t believe how difficult you’re being.”

“Am I? Hmm. Maybe. Too bad,” Cole muttered, lifting his wine glass and knocking back the merlot like it was whiskey. Wishing it was. He could use some whiskey. Desperately.

The music abruptly changed cadence, and both he and Mara looked up, as did everyone around them. He hadn’t noticed the spiral staircase when he’d been here before. He noticed it now, though. Noticed it...and the very nice pair of legs descending...long, shapely legs that would close perfectly around a man’s hips, he thought.
Oh, hell.
He damn near swallowed his tongue as Rocki came down the stairs, one hand trailing along the banister. She paused halfway down, smiling out at the crowd. Smiling...and letting everybody get one damn good look.

Again, he found himself thinking...
Lush
.

It was a word that described
her
perfectly.

A lot of the women in the crowd were wearing a hell of lot less clothing than she was.
Mara
was wearing less. But Rocki managed to cast them all in shadow. Looking at her made his hands sweat. The swells of her breasts rose above the corset she wore, all but begging for the touch of a man’s hands, her ivory skin glowing against the deep, rich, red silk. He wasn’t sure which would be softer to touch. Her waist looked impossibly small just before her hips flared out into another lush, ripe curve. The skirt was somehow hitched up, revealing those long legs encased in dark, smooth stockings.

A wet dream come to life, Cole thought, staring at her. Shit. He gripped his wine glass tightly and tore his gaze away from her. Mara was still staring at her, her lips pursed. “She’s making such a spectacle of herself, dressed like that.”

“A spectacle?” he echoed. “She looks lovely.”

Mara rolled her eyes. “She’s too fat to dress that way.”

Cole almost choked on his wine.
Fat?
Damn it, what in the world was wrong with her? But instead of replying, he just turned away. Mara only saw what Mara wanted to see. He was tired of it. So tired of it. And it was something he wasn’t going to deal with much longer.

“I wonder if she ever tries to put herself up in the auction,” Mara mused.

“She’s married,” Cole said.

“Oh. Yeah. And even if she wasn’t...” She broke off, laughing. “It’s a laughable thought.”

“Damn it, would you shut up?” he snapped, slamming his glass down and turning his head to glare at her.

She stared at him. “What is your problem?”

He clenched his jaw shut, determined not to say anything, not to do this here.

“Cole.” Mara’s eyes narrowed.

He went to brush past her.

She shot out an arm, her nails digging into his wrist like claws. He paused, staring down at her. Somewhere inside, he ached, because he could remember a time when he’d loved her. A lot. But that was before she’d changed. When had all of this happened? And had
she
changed so drastically, or was it him?

“We’ll talk about this later, Mara,” he said quietly.

“No. We’ll talk about it now.”

He glanced around, spied the back door he’d seen the first time they’d visited the store. It was marked “private,” but everybody was too focused on Rocki to even notice them. Fine. Mara wanted to have it out tonight, they’d have it out tonight.

With his hand at the small of her back, he guided her toward the door. It led them to a private dressing area, a long narrow hall with a series of doors, all done in ivory and gold. Feminine and soft,
Like Rocki
, he mused.

Shutting the door, he leaned back against it. “We should talk about this at home,” he said again.

“You’re being a bastard...we’ll talk about it here.”

“You’re being a bitch,” he pointed out. “I paid a grand to get us into a party we weren’t even invited to...”

“Well, they don’t
care
. They just asked for the donation,” she replied. Smoothing a hand back over her hair, she gave him an aggravated glance. “It’s not like you
need
the money, darling.”

“No, I don’t. But you never asked if I wanted to come. You
told
me to. And now that you’re here, all you can do is insult the owner. Mara...I don’t even know you anymore. And what little I do know?” He paused, reaching for the words. He didn’t want to hurt her.

Mara crossed her arms over her chest, one blonde brow lifted impatiently. “Yes?”

“I don’t like.”

She stilled. Finally, something flickered in her pale blue eyes. But it was gone almost as fast as it had appeared. “That’s just silly, Cole. You know me. I’m the same woman I was when you proposed—the same woman I was the night you told me you loved me and wanted to spend the rest of your life with me.”

“No, you’re not. You used to smile. And laugh. Now you only smile if you’re mocking somebody. Or being cruel.” He looked away as he pushed off the door. “And that’s not who I want to spend my life with.”

Taking a deep breath, he said softly, “This engagement is off, Mara. I’ll pick up my stuff and move out of the condo next week. I’ll sign it over to you—you can have it. And I’ll honor my agreement on the store. But that’s it. We’re done.”

“Cole, wait.”

He opened the door as he looked back at her.

“You can’t do this,” she said, her voice shaking. “Not to me. Not
here
.”

“I didn’t want to do it here. But I can do it...and I am. I’m not going to spend my life with someone who is obviously so unhappy. Life’s too short, Mara. Get out there and enjoy it—stop worrying so much about getting ahead and just live.”

“Getting close to time,” Lacey mused.

“I know.” Rocki gave her friend an amused glance and nodded toward the clock on the wall. “I can read a clock, you know.”

“Bitch.” It was delivered in a friendly tone, along with an elbow in the side. Hard.

“Hey!” Rocki slammed a hand against the wall to keep from toppling over and glared at Lacey. “You’re the bitch. Bitch. Would stop trying to send me careening to the floor?”

“Can’t help it...it was just so funny the one time you did go down...” Lacey wagged her eyebrows. That was one night she’d never let Rocki live down—hadn’t mattered that both of them had been drunk. “So...you going to let some hot guy bid on you this year?”

“Oh, puh-leeze.” She sighed and sipped from the one glass of champagne she’d allow herself for now. She’d have more later. After this was all over. Champagne. Or something stronger. Probably something stronger, so she didn’t have to think about that damn card. And the call she’d have to make soon, because she knew the cards weren’t going to stop.

“You going to tell me what’s up with you?”

With a smile, Rocki lied between her teeth. “Nothing.” She’d have to come clean with Lacey. Especially if another one of those cards showed. Lacey’s brother, Clayton, was one of the friends she figured she’d call—he’d been one of Brant’s closer friends. He would take it seriously, too. But until another one showed, she wasn’t going to worry about it. If another one came...then, fine. She’d deal. And she’d deal appropriately. But not now—she had to get through tonight first.

“You know, if I didn’t know you, I could believe you,” Lacey said on a sigh. “But I do know you. And I know you’re lying.”

“Sucks, doesn’t it?”

“Bitch,” Lacey muttered. Then she groaned. “Speaking of bitches...here’s the Wicked Witch of High Street coming now. And she looks like she’s up to no good.”

Yeah, Rocki had to agree. The glint of Mara O’Keily’s eyes was all the warning Rocki needed. As she sipped from her champagne glass, she glanced at her friend Lacey. Behind the glass, she whispered, “If you disappear, I’m going to deck you. And keep your trap shut, too.”

Lacey grimaced. “That woman is a viper.”

“I know.”

Five seconds later, Mara was there, smiling a hard, brittle smile. The look in her eyes was bright, almost too bright. And disconnected. “Oh, there you are, Rocki...I’ve been looking for you. Although in that get-up, you’re rather hard to miss.”

“Well, I like to make a statement.” Rocki smiled. She studied Mara’s dress and said, “I suppose I could try something like that, but I doubt it would work on me.”

“Your boobs would runneth over, no doubt,” Lacey said, grinning. “That sort of thing works best on the boobless and hipless. Oh, no offense, Ms. O’Keily.”

Mara’s smiled went colder, sharper. “Oh, none taken.” She glanced around. “So, I heard your designer Lush is supposed to be here tonight. Has she made her appearance yet?”

“She has,” Lacey said. “She’s been around most of the night.”

Rocki wanted to kick Lacey. Damn it. Mara’s gaze zeroed in on Lacey and she arched a blonde brow. “Oh? Perhaps you can introduce me?”