Tell Me What You Crave Page 8

  Two security guards stepped out from the revolving doors, not quite as muscular as Dorian, but big enough to make the photographer step back.

  “You have to leave, now,” one of them snarled with a fierce stare.

  “As soon as he gives me my SD card.” The photographer glared.

  Dorian only smiled.

  “Both of you.” The other guard pulled out his radio from his pocket.

  Grace

  He put me on hold.

  Heat raged up her face and to the back of her neck. This new publicist, Cole Downey, kept her from talking to Ruben all weekend, and after scheduling a call for noon, now had the audacity to put her on hold. Grace glanced at her watch. If he made her wait much longer, she’d hang up.

  The line clicked. “Patching through now,” some female voice chimed in.

  Then another click.

  “Gracie?”

  Her heart humped in her throat. “Pax! Angel, how are you?”

  “We’re having so much fun!”

  She paused, trying to redirect her thoughts from the string of curse words she was going to sling at Downey. “That…that’s good, sweetie. What’re you doing?”

  “Daddy taught us to build a sand castle, and he let us bury him in the beach. Like a pirate treasure!”

  His words raced through her mind. Beach? They definitely were not in their publicist’s office, then. “You…you’re at the beach? You went on vacation?”

  “It’s so fun here, Gracie! I told Mommy I want to move to the beach.”

  She sighed. It would make sense to remove the kids from the ruckus. Downey was just playing gatekeeper. “That’s awesome, Pax. Is your mommy there?”

  “Yeah, she’s been drinking a lot of juice with the pretty umbrellas. She even let me have one!”

  The call crackled in her ear. She waited another second, but nothing. “Pax? Honey, are you there?”

  “Hey, Grace,” a more feminine voice answered.

  “Julie! Thank God you guys are all right. I’ve been trying to reach you for days.”

  “I know, I’m sorry.” Pax’s mother sighed on the other end. “We had to whisk the kids off pretty quickly, and Downey confiscated our phones.”

  Grace rolled her eyes. “Probably a good move, given all the crap being thrown around. Where are you?”

  There was a pause on her side, and only the echo of waves and seagulls in the background filled the dead air.

  “Julie?”

  “Ruben told me not to tell you, in case someone had your phone tapped.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

  Tapped?

  She hid the awkward pause behind a casual laugh. “It hasn’t gotten that bad here. Just lots of calls and photographers.” And people invading my fire escape. There was no sense in making an already nervous woman more anxious. “As long as you guys are safe, and the kids are out of all this.”

  “How are you?” Julie sounded concerned.

  Grace waved her hand, as if her friend could see her through the phone. “I’m fine. Takes a lot more than this to throw me. I was more concerned about you.”

  “No. Gracie, I mean the charity. The fundraiser and donations you were counting on. Has that been affected?”

  She rolled her neck, trying to stretch the tension. Donations had dropped in the last twenty-four hours by fifty percent. Confessing to Julie would make things worse than they already were. Not to mention it was the last thing she wanted to talk about. “No, we’re top shape there. Just…have fun, and we’ll talk when you get back. Are you still going to be here for the check unveiling Friday?”

  The phone crackled again, and a much lower voice called out in the background.

  “Hello?”

  “Grace? It’s me.”

  Ruben.

  She blew out a frustrated breath. “I’m sorry I put you guys through all this.”

  “Oh, knock it off, woman. This wasn’t your fault. Some jackass hacked into my cloud account.”

  “Daddy said jackass, Mommy!” Pax’s little voice was easy to make out in the distance.

  Grace couldn’t help but smile.

  “No, I didn’t!” he called. “I said jack-n-ape.” A soft growl on the other end made Grace chuckle again. “Sorry. My attorney’s all over it. But I don’t want to talk about that. How are you holding up?”

  “I’m okay. Just frazzled a bit. I’m handling it.”

  “I’m so ecstatic that something good has come out of all this nonsense. Grace, I’m really happy for you.”

  “Wh…what d’you mean?”

  “The photograph…of the guy you kissed,” he whispered.

  Her mind froze. “Dorian?” Her voice sounded an octave higher in her head, and her gaze darted to the bouquet of flowers by the window. “You saw that?”

  “I’m the only one with a phone down here, and I sneaked a peek at the tabloids.”

  She raised her eyes to the ceiling.

  Great. He found another topic I don’t want to talk about.

  “Seriously, Grace,” Rubin continued. “I didn’t know you were seeing anyone. Is he from work?”

  “No, not exactly…it’s more of a misunderstanding.”

  “That kiss was not a misunderstanding. Not from that picture. I didn’t take you for the bad-boy seeker. I’ve never seen you so…happy.”

  She could hear him smile from the other side, and cringed. “Ruben, will you be back by Friday?”

  “I want to, but Downey thinks we should skip it.”

  The pressure between her brows increased. “If you don’t, it will look like we have something to feel guilty about. You and Julie should both come.”

  “Yeah, that makes more sense to me. My agent said the same thing. My new publicist is just playing it safe.”

  “Is he from the network? Or one you hired?”

  “Kind of both. It’s complicated, but I have a lot more pull now that we were renewed for another season. Nigel is handling all of that for me. They’ll give me whatever I want around this whole fiasco.”

  Grace scowled. The last thing she wanted was to have her issues enter into any business negotiations with Ruben’s career. Or her own, for that matter. “Your agent has been working overtime because of all this. I remember when most of his time was spent getting you auditions, and babysitting Daisy.”

  Ruben sighed. “I know. We’ve both come a long way. But you know what,” he continued in a more chipper voice. “I’ll bring Julie to that unveiling, if you bring that Dorian guy. I’d like to meet him. Make sure he’s good enough for you.”

  She pinched the bridge of her nose. More out of habit. Because the idea of bringing Dorian to stand beside her at the event didn’t unnerve her as much as she anticipated. Since when have I become so expectant for disappointment? “All right.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. I…” I can’t believe I’m going to use his words. “To turn off all the rumors, I need to be seen with someone else, publicly.”

  “Well, it’s about time.”

  A buzzer rang on her office phone. “Ms. Evans? We have a security issue downstairs.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Grace

  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d take you for a stalker.” Grace smirked as she stood in front of Dorian. Her favorite restaurant was moderately full with other patrons.

  He’d chosen a table up front, close to the windows. Where a few paparazzi had followed her from the office.

  Dorian grinned, and pulled out her chair for her to sit.

  “I wasn’t there for you,” he replied. “Closing a loose end with a former client.”

  “Are you trying to fit the bad-boy image, complaints with security and run-ins with the likes of those vultures?” Grace nodded at the photographers out the window, snapping away without shame.

  The waiter came by and took their drink and meal orders. Soon enough, they nibbled on sashimi and tempura.

  She stole glances at his hands, how confidently he handled
chopsticks, but wasn’t deterred by using his fingers every now and then.

  “I made sure that photographer outside your office didn’t have any pictures of me associated with anyone but you. The goal from here on out is good publicity.”

  She smiled behind a sip of sake. “Speaking of good publicity, the flowers were an embarrassing display.”

  Dorian chuckled. “Did they make you smile?”

  “Yes.” Grace’s cheeks burned.

  “Then they served their purpose.”

  “Thank you. It was…rough, today.”

  “So I heard. Any word from Ruben today?”

  “Yes!” It came out more excited than she intended, but it was the best part of her day, so far.

  His surprise seemed genuine. “And?”

  “They’ll be back in time for the check unveiling. With his wife.”

  “Back? Did they go somewhere?”

  Grace recapped her call with Ruben, Julie, and Pax, showing more disappointment that they wouldn’t tell her where they’d gone.

  “Sounds like this new publicist of his has some decent ideas.”

  She shrugged. Not that she cared for Downey, and his flippant attitude toward her. “As long as Julie’s calm, and the kids are okay, that’s all I care about.”

  “So you’ve said. When do you plan on focusing on your own needs?” The glimmer in his gaze made her stop swirling her spoon in her miso soup.

  “My needs?”

  “Yeah. Loosening up. Having fun. Enjoying life?”

  “Isn’t that what we’re doing now?”

  Dorian tilted his head. “You tell me. You’re smiling more, which is good. But your shoulders are still tense, and you seem to have a permanent crease in your forehead.”

  Grace scowled. “Sorry, I’m not better company.”

  He laughed. “You’re perfect company. I’ve been waiting ages for this chance.”

  Her heart warmed a little at his candor. How can he possibly like me? I’ve been so vicious to him. “Doesn’t help that there are even more paparazzi out there than before, snapping shots of my every bite.” She glanced out the window again, and shook her head. Do these yahoos have anything better to do with their lives? “You couldn’t have picked a table in the back?”

  “You needed to be seen with someone other than Ruben. Publicly. Wouldn’t help if they couldn’t see us.”

  “What about your agency’s no photos rule?”

  His smile faded, and it was clear she touched a nerve. “Let me worry about that.”

  With a final bite of tempura, she set down her fork and sighed. A pleasant one, with a full stomach and tipsy head from two pitchers of sake. The lights had dimmed at some point during their meal, only she just now noticed.

  Dorian scintillated other areas of her imagination, more than a great meal from her favorite venue. His gray suit and lavender tie pulled the business casual appearance to perfection with form-fitting slacks. With his large arms and wide torso, she guessed the ensemble was custom tailored.

  He paid the bill with a slightly more than satisfied expression, almost as if he were gloating.

  “What are you thinking about?” Grace finished off her last cup of sake.

  “I finally got my dream date.” He threw a wink at her.

  She couldn’t help the heat flushing her cheeks. Hard to imagine she was someone’s dream date. For real, with no ulterior motive. “You’ve been quite persistent. Almost to your own detriment.”

  With a final sign of the bill, he held out his hand to her. “You ready to go?”

  She looked out the window for the third time, dreading facing the vultures. “Better now, than later.” Grace took his hand. Warm, rough skin soothed a touch of her nerves.

  He rose, and helped her stand.

  The sake went straight to her brain, and she stumbled on her heels.

  He chuckled. “Easy, Ginger Rogers. Wait for the dancing at home.”

  “Dinner and dancing? Are you trying to make me a spectacle for the world to capture in high-definition?”

  Dorian offered his arm, and she took it. Strong and tight, against his side. And oh, so warm. “No, you’re a spectacle just as you are. The dancing is just between you and me…in private.”

  “Is that a promise?” She nearly gagged on her tongue as the question came out.

  I’m flirting. Holy crap! It has to be the sake.

  He pulled her into his side more, and wrapped his arm around her waist.

  Possessively.

  “I’m a guarantee.”

  They battled through the barrage of photographers the second they stepped outside. They didn’t answer any question or make comments.

  She tried to smile as best she could through the invasion of her privacy, all three blocks home. But trusting in Dorian’s plans kept her moving forward. In no time at all, they walked into their condo lobby, leaving the leeches on the sidewalk.

  Only when they entered the elevator did Grace manage a deep breath.

  “Relax, kid.” His smile engulfed the entire little space. “I have one question for you.”

  “What’s that?” Her whole body felt warm, trickling down her legs and into her pointy-heels.

  “Your place, or mine?”

  Dorian

  Dorian kept his enthusiasm to himself as he walked into Grace’s apartment behind her. He honestly hadn’t expected her to choose her place, except if she were going to end their date early.

  She invited him in with a genuine smile that kicked his heart rate up a notch.

  Grace tossed her purse on the counter, and kicked off her shoes. “I’ve been in these clothes all day. I’m just going to change real quick. Make yourself at home. There’s some wine in the fridge if you want.”

  “I’ll wait for you.” He put his hands in his pockets and enjoyed the view as she sauntered down the hallway. The sake had gotten to her, and he liked this more carefree side of her. A lot.

  She stubbed her toe on the door into her bedroom. “Ow!” Followed by a bright laugh, that warmed her entire apartment. “Sorry. Be right out.”

  Dorian chuckled, and slipped off his shoes. Followed by his jacket, which he draped over a chair in the dining room.

  The kitchen was as bare as the first time he’d seen it. Pax’s photo still proudly displayed on the fridge. He glanced down the hall, and noticed another room, with the door opened. If it were his floor plan, it was the second bedroom.

  He peeked inside, and frowned.

  Empty. Not even drapes on the windows. Just a few boxes stacked by the door. The top box had packing paper draped over the side, as if she had started to unpack it, but had changed her mind.

  Dorian pulled the paper aside. And immediately wished he hadn’t.

  On top of a photo album was a newspaper clipping. The front picture was clearly her family’s car accident.

  A man and a little girl’s photos smiled out from the black and white ink beside it. The girl was a tiny carbon copy of Grace. Same eyes, same cheeks and chin. The smile—the smile belonged to the man pictured next to her.

  Beneath the photo album were a bunch of picture frames. None of them were even wrapped in bubble paper. Just haphazardly stacked in the box however they fit. Pictures of her daughter at school, with friends eating ice cream, her husband coaching soccer, even a wedding photo.

  The man’s dark hair matched their daughter’s, though the cut was longer than Dorian expected. Almost European. What caught his eye the most was how young Grace looked. So happy, lighthearted, with the whole world ahead of her.

  A whole world of heartache.

  Dorian set the frames back carefully. Only four or five boxes sat in this room, untouched. Nothing more.

  Was this everything left from her former life? Why hadn’t she put some of these photos out?

  “A stalker, and a snooper.”

  He stepped into the hallway.

  Grace stood a few feet away, dressed in casual deep pink tank top and slinky black skirt s
kimming her kneecaps.

  “Just curious.”

  She shrugged and closed the door for him. The sweet lilac perfume wafted over him as she drew close, her hair skimming against his cheek as she shut him out. Then the scent faded with her down the hallway to the kitchen.

  An awkward silence spread between them like frozen water forging a crevice. She poured a glass of wine for each of them. Without a smile. Breaking the awkward moment with a subject change seemed the best option.

  “That’s my spare bedroom in my place. Or would you believe that’s where I keep all my sex toys and crochet materials.”

  Grace smirked. “I expected a personal gym with state of the art exercise equipment. Or maybe full of military memorabilia and a bunch of fun racks, or animal heads.”

  Dorian chuckled. “The heads wouldn’t fit in the elevator.”

  The smirk turned into a smile. Then a sigh. “I haven’t figured out what I want to do with that room. Making it a shrine to my family felt unproductive…despite my counselor’s suggestions. How can I move on if I’m walking by that door every day? I’d sit in that room for hours, and never come out. Hardly seemed healthy to me…or useful.”

  He pressed his lips together to savor the wine, and process her confession. She was so candid and honest; not what he expected from the normally closed off woman of 9C. He was grateful for it. “Being useful seems to be a top priority for you.”

  She shrugged again. “Having fun seems to be yours.”

  “Is that a crime?”

  “No. Just an observation.”

  “Since when is being useful and having fun mutually exclusive?” He took another sip.

  “I just haven’t noticed you taking much of anything seriously.”

  “I take you seriously.”

  “Besides me.” She moved around the corner, and sat in a dining room chair. Grace used her foot to push the seat next to her back, just for him. Her cute bare feet made the whole scene more intimate, more precious.