Various States of Undress: Virginia (19 page)

But now? He was sick of feeling sorry for himself, sick of avoiding everyone—especially Virginia. It wasn't as if he hadn't been working—he'd been making a lot of progress on the ad campaign—but it was well past time to quit hiding out in his apartment and actually go to Lilah's. Dex heaved a sigh as he hailed a cab outside his building. When he was settled inside, he pulled out his phone to call her. As he scrolled the screen, an unfamiliar number popped up on the display and the phone buzzed. Maybe it was her. He could hope, couldn't he? He answered it a bit too eagerly. “Dex Cameron.”

“What the hell do you think you're doing? Why haven't you returned my calls?”

At the sound of his grandfather's gravelly voice, Dex pulled the phone away from his ear. “Fuck. Fuck!” he mouthed. And then—“Good morning, Granddad. I didn't recognize the number.”

“That's because I had to resort to using the housekeeper's phone since you've been avoiding me.”

That was just like the old man—Judy had been his housekeeper for thirty years, and he still wouldn't refer to her by her name unless he was speaking directly to her. Dex shook his head. “How are you?”

“Not in the mood for chitchat, that's how. Are you involved with the president's daughter?”

Dex swallowed. “Perhaps.” He didn't know if he was anymore or not.

“Stop it. She's a loose cannon, and I don't see how the hell she's doing you any favors. I thought you were attempting to remake the store.” DB chuckled as if he thought Dex's plans for Lilah's were a joke.

“I'm well into the process of remaking Lilah's, yes. I'm completely focused.”

“Sure you are. Focused on going out to nightclubs with that dumb girl.”

Dex bristled. “She's not dumb.”

“Bullshit. But I'm not surprised that you can't see the big picture, since you're obviously too busy looking at her big—”

“Stop right there,” Dex interrupted in a steely voice. Fury surged up, half choking him. He didn't know where he stood personally with Virginia, but the instinct to protect her was overwhelming. She didn't deserve to be hidden from the old man as if she were some kind of embarrassment. “How I spend my time is none of your business. And it would be in your best interest to adjust your attitude about Virginia Fulton because she's the reason why Lilah's is going to be a huge success.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I hired her to breathe new life into the store. And she's doing a fantastic job. It was my call, and I don't have to justify my decisions about Lilah's to anyone. You and I agreed on that, at least.” Dex's heart hammered as the words came out of his mouth. They sounded cool, detached, although his brain was buzzing with pure anger. “If you intend to start yelling, I'm going to hang up—fair warning.”

There was a pause and then the old man started in. “Son of a bitch! You stupid—”

Dex hung up. He sat in silence all the way to the store, the phone clenched between his hands. He didn't allow himself to think—he just listened to the sound of his own breathing as it slowly returned to a normal pace. After he paid the cab driver, he stood on the sidewalk, adjusted his tie, and walked toward the front doors. It was then that he saw the windows, and he nearly staggered backward.

The stiff mannequins wearing pastel spring dresses were gone. In their place stood willowy, pale, provocatively posed mannequins wearing halter tops and short shorts. They were a riot of color—from the sequined berets on their heads to the neon platform sandals on their feet. They wore suggestively low-slung belts with huge decorative buckles, and there was fringe everywhere—most of it dripping from the purses draped over their outstretched hands. He ogled for a moment and then glanced at the sign propped in the front of the window. It read “Come shop Lilah's new look—at our preview sale! Thursday and Friday only!” He slapped a hand to his forehead. Why hadn't anyone told him? Why hadn't
Virginia
told him? And how long had the windows been this way?

Adrenalin still pumped in his veins from the argument with his grandfather, and he jerked open the front doors and marched inside. A very happy Virginia stood on the sales floor, wearing a slightly more modest version of an outfit from the window display. She kind of looked like a haute couture go-go dancer, and he couldn't help but ogle her too. When she turned her head and saw him, the brilliant smile on her face faltered, and he stood rooted to the marble floor, staring back.

“Dex!” She hurried over to him. “Um. Surprise!” She laughed and spread her arms toward a section of small racks, which stood where the circular racks of old lady pants had been earlier in the week.

He glanced at the new pants, then at the glittery tops, and then at another mannequin, which was posed in the middle of the section, standing on top of a glass display case. Its feet were surrounded by bags and jewelry. All of it was a hell of a lot more interesting and twenty times brighter than what had been there before, but why hadn't she told him she'd been planning it? Maybe he'd been right—maybe she was trying to distance herself from him. “What . . . ?”

“It's an experiment,” Virginia said cautiously. “You did say I was in charge of testing the waters . . .” She lowered her voice. “I was going to tell you, but I—” She shook her head. “I wasn't sure what you'd think, and then I started to doubt myself, and that got the best of me, and so I convinced myself that a surprise was the way to go. By the time I realized that was the coward's way out, the awful night at the club happened, and then . . . I didn't hear from you. I'd already ordered everything to be delivered, so I thought what the hell, and I did it. I should have told you, though.” She looked at him, her expression cautious, but there was something else there too. It was longing. “I've missed you.”

Relief flooded through him at her words. She hadn't been avoiding him because of him but because of herself. Not that her anxieties weren't valid, of course, and he knew exactly how she felt—he'd been there too many times to count, doubting himself. As she gazed at him, he had to resist the urge to gather her in his arms and kiss her tenderly. He nodded. “So when did you do all this?”

“Last night after the store closed. Doris helped me.” She motioned to the older woman, who walked over, smiling. Doris wore one of the berets and had on a brightly patterned orange blouse in place of her smock. “Good morning. What do you think?” Doris asked.

As both women stared at him expectantly, Dex scratched his jaw and realized that he'd forgotten to shave because he'd been too distracted by feeling sorry for himself. While he'd been holed up like a wounded dog over something as stupid as a few embarrassing photos, Virginia had been busy proving herself. He forced himself to smile. “I'm impressed. It's exactly how you described it would be.”

“Only on a smaller scale,” she added. “It's a test collection.”

“Yeah.” He looked around again. “How do you think customers will react?”

Virginia exchanged an amused glance with Doris. “Word for word—that's exactly what Ruston said. Although he wasn't as neutral about it.”

“I'm not surprised.” Dex chuckled. “Where is he?”

“In the back, rearranging the smocks or something. I told him about the display yesterday afternoon, and I told him that you had given me permission to experiment, but I'm afraid he's still pissed,” Virginia answered. “As for the customers, I've done some strategic tweeting this morning. That, combined with the flyers from Tuesday night at Renegade's ought to . . .” She trailed off, a guarded look crossing her face. “So, um, if you'd like to talk about any of this . . .”

“I'm going to check on Ruston,” Doris announced and wheeled around, heading for the back of the store.

Dex gazed at Virginia. “About Tuesday night. I acted like an idiot. I shouldn't have left like that, without saying anything.”

“I understood why you did. It's not easy being out in public with me.” She lowered her voice. “Which is why I left you alone so you could think about whether or not you wanted to deal with that. In the future, I mean. I hope that you decide I'm worth the hassle, but since you didn't call, I was starting to wonder.” She grimaced. “Oh, that's not what I meant to say. It's what I was thinking, but I didn't mean to sound pathetic. Damn.”

He stared at her. Her, pathetic? Never. And she'd worried that
he
would be the one to call a halt to . . . to whatever it was that had grown between them? And had she said “in the future”? She wanted to be with him in the—wow. So she didn't pity him. And she didn't think that—

“Dex? Say something.” Virginia twisted her fingers together and glanced away.

He shook his head. “Not here.”

“Not the stockroom either because Ruston's on the rampage. And not anywhere that my agents can overhear. Um, a dressing room?”

“Perfect.” He took her arm and practically dragged her across the lobby, past the bras and nightgowns, and into the carpeted dressing room area. He walked to the end of a row, threw open a stall door, pulled her inside, and locked it. And then his lips were on hers. Oh, God, how he'd missed her soft lips, which right now were curving into a smile beneath his fervent kisses. She wrapped her arms around his neck and jumped.

Dex caught the back of her thighs and pressed her against the mirror. “I'm sorry I didn't call,” he said. “I was worried that you thought I was an idiot and—”

She kissed away the rest of his worry. “Never. I was worried that you'd blown a gasket over those photos taken at the club. I felt really bad about that. And I know that it's shocking to see yourself plastered all over the Internet if you're not used to it. Are you . . . angry about the preview collection?”

“Hell no. It's awesome.” He tasted her neck and was rewarded with a gasp. “I can't wait to see what happens next.”

Just as he was about to kiss his way down to Virginia's cleavage, a disagreeable voice broke through the quiet. It was muffled, but it was unmistakable. Granddad. Dex dropped Virginia back to her feet and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to tamp down the panic that threaded his gut.

“What's wrong?” she asked, breathless. “Who is that?”

“Nothing's wrong, but that's my grandfather, so I better go for a minute. Stay here. Wait for me. Please?” He dropped his hands away from her. She nodded. Leaning forward, Dex rubbed her cheek with his thumb and gave her a quick kiss. Then he went out to face the ogre.

A
FTER
D
EX LEFT
the dressing room, Virginia turned and smiled at the mirror, her lips still tingling from his kisses. She looked exactly like she felt—exhilarated, infatuated, and happy. It was rare to see her own reflection and realize that she was looking at the truth. She was proud of herself and thrilled that Dex was proud too. Her smile turning into a grin, she sank down onto the padded bench and pulled out her phone. She wanted to gush to Stacey.

When she flicked the phone open, she saw that there were several missed calls—all from Stacey—and they had been missed because Virginia had set Stacey's ringtone on silent a long time ago. Stacey tended to call at the worst time, usually in the middle of the night. It irritated Stacey to be muted, but it didn't stop her from calling. Giggling, Virginia called her back. When Stacey picked up, Virginia was still chuckling. “Hey, what's up, Stace?”

“Uh-oh,” Stacey responded.

“What do you mean, ‘uh-oh'?”

“You didn't listen to my voice mail. Or if you did, then you're in shock or something.”

Virginia's brow creased. “I'm not in shock, but am I about to be? What did you do?”

There was a pause. “I didn't do anything.”

“Neither did I. Well, that's not true. I did something amazing. If you have time to take an extra-long lunch, you should hop down here and see the test display at Lilah's. You'll love it!”

“Ginny . . .”

Stacey's voice was unusually placating, and an unwelcome, but familiar, sinking feeling began to pool in Virginia's belly. “What happened?”

“Um, it's about Owlton. The news is kind of out that you dumped it.”

Virginia's stomach sank to her feet. “What do you mean, ‘kind of'? Who decided to drag me through the mud? TMZ?”

“No. It was the
Times
. A business news headline. The article wasn't mean, but the comments kind of were.”

Comments. Virginia hated stupid comments, but she brushed that aside for now. “Why were you looking at business news? Or at the
Times
?”

“Remember what we talked about at Renegade's after sexy Dexie left? You asked me to check on details for Flash. Well, I . . . haven't been able to get Dorian on the phone. He's so busy, as you can imagine, so I went to the website. There was a link for a news article about Flash expanding into London, and I was kinda bored, so I followed it, and when I got to the
Times
website, I saw the link about you. I thought you ought to know.” Stacey sighed. “Sorry to burst your bubble about the test collection.”

“You didn't,” Virginia answered automatically. But she hunched over, her elbows on her knees, and turned away from the mirror. “I'll be fine. Why should I care what a bunch of smug assholes have to say about me?”

“Exactly. And at least they weren't attacking your shoes or your bags, right?”

Virginia shook her head. She knew that Stacey was being serious. To Stacey, disparaging comments about a person's fashion were tantamount to a kick in the head. Stacey didn't realize that Virginia had just been kicked where it hurt the worst—in her pride. “Thanks for telling me.”

“Don't do what you usually do.”

“What?” But Virginia already knew what Stacey was going to say.