Indigo Nights: A Sexy, Contemporary Romance (27 page)

“Marie, I’ll be at Giovanni’s, but I won’t be longer than forty-five minutes.”

Since our breakup there’d been a number of times Alicia and her husband had been scheduled to attend the same event as me—charity galas, business functions, that sort of thing. I’d always kept track of who was invited, and if I found Alicia’s name on the list, I’d always pull out. Now I wondered why. I should have been fucking delighted she’d married some other sucker and left me to find Beth.

“See? I knew I could make you smile.” Alicia grabbed my arm as we strode out of the elevator. I didn’t make any pretense of trying to slow down for her. I needed this over with so I could get on with my life with Beth. I was pretty sure she’d be out of her meeting with WCIL anytime now and I wanted to know if she’d have more reason to be in Chicago from now on.

I checked my pocket for my phone to see if she’d messaged me and realized I’d left it on my desk. “This better be quick, Alicia. I have a busy afternoon.”

“Come on, we’ll have fun. We always had fun, Dylan, didn’t we?”

“The gate to memory lane is closed and locked. I’m not interested in rehashing the good times.”

“At least you admit they
were
good times.”

I didn’t respond. There was no need. She could live with her bad choices. I didn’t need to tell her she was a bitch. She wasn’t my problem, or my responsibility, anymore. I just didn’t care.

“Here we are,” she said breezily as we arrived at the entrance to the restaurant just a block from my office. They served quickly here, which was just as well.

“Mr. James, how nice to see you. Apologies, I don’t seem to have a reservation for you, but I’ll find you a table.” I nodded at the host.

Alicia’s practiced façade cracked. “I guess we’ll get a nicer table if they know you,” she said, her eyes flickering with irritation.

We were seated quickly and Alicia insisted on ordering a bottle of wine. I wasn’t going to touch a drop of it, despite what she thought.

“So,” she said dramatically as the waiter left. “I just want to set my cards out on the table so you know exactly why I’m here. I picked the wrong guy. I’m sorry. I should never have called off the wedding.”

I chuckled. She’d picked the wrong guy because I turned out to be richer than her husband. Not because she loved me, not because she was dying without me, but because she thought she’d missed out.

“I think you made a fine choice. Bob’s a decent man by all accounts.”

She ignored my comment about her husband and continued, “You’ve done very well for yourself.”

“So what you mean is you backed the wrong horse.”

She shrugged. “I do miss you, Dylan. I know that no man will love me the way you did.”

If I didn’t know her, I might have fallen for her charm.

“And I miss our friendship and how wise you were. How you always took me seriously when I had an observation about business. Bob just laughs when I try to talk to him about work. And because you’re such a good person and an amazing businessman, I thought that there was no one in the world I’d want to go into partnership with other than you.”

She seriously thought I would go into business with her? She rummaged in her bag and pulled out a memory stick. “I know you’ll love this, Dylan. And you’ll love the projected revenues even more.” Her eyes lit up. She really thought I might say yes.

She had to be shitting me.

Beth

As I climbed into the back of the cab on the way to the TV station, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I’d packed all my bags in case I didn’t have enough time after the meeting. A car was due to pick me up to go to the airport at six, but I was pretty sure the station was going to want me to sign something before I left. And I still wasn’t sure I was ready to commit to it.

The weekend with Dylan had been wonderful, easy and perfect. I didn’t need an excuse to come to Chicago, but Dylan meant I was going to be here more and more so I might as well have something to keep me busy while I was here and
A Chicago Saturday
might be a good option.

I told the cab driver where to go and checked my messages.

Amber: Don’t listen to it. It’s all bullshit. Bryan found you on YouTube, you know that. Can’t wait to see you at 11.

I read it twice and couldn’t make any more sense of it the second time. I would’ve assumed she’d meant to send it to someone else if she hadn’t mentioned seeing me at eleven. What was it that I shouldn’t be listening to? Perhaps she’d gotten me mixed up with someone else?

It was a short drive to the television studio and Amber was waiting outside as the cab pulled up, her near-constant smile gone, her eyes downcast and her lips pursed. My stomach churned as I paid the driver and opened the taxi door. Maybe they’d changed their minds about offering me an extended run on the show. I took a deep breath. It didn’t matter. It didn’t affect my relationship with Dylan, and it didn’t mean I couldn’t spend as much time in Chicago as I wanted. This was no big deal. I hadn’t enjoyed the publicity side of things anyway. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise.

“How are you holding up?” Amber pulled me into a hug. “I thought we’d go around the side entrance where there are fewer people. Not that anyone is taking any notice. I just thought you might prefer it.” We walked around the side of the building.

It was nice of her to be concerned, but I didn’t really understand why we were going ahead with the meeting if they were just going to say they didn’t want to work with me any longer. They could have just called me.

“I had no idea you were even dating him,” Amber said, and suddenly the world started to tilt. I stopped so I didn’t fall over.

“Dating who? What’s going on, Amber?”

“Dylan James. He’s super-hot, so I’m not surprised. You make a great couple, though that has nothing to do with why we offered you the job.”

“How do you know who I’m dating?” I asked, scanning my brain for answers. It must have been the benefit. There’d been press there and Dylan was a well-known public figure.

“You know, from the internet.”

Amber used her pass to unlock the door and we stepped inside. Amber rushed us into a conference room where Bryan was waiting for us.

He cocked his head to the side and said, “How are you holding up? Don’t let these bloodsuckers get you down. We know the truth. I fucking found you on YouTube.” Amber had said something similar. I didn’t understand it. “It had nothing to do with who you’re dating. The press are just looking for bodies to pick over them. You’re going to be the next Martha Stewart, so consider this your coming-out party. You just need to stay strong.”

“Hang on.” I put my hands up. “We need to back up here. What are you talking about? Why are you both mentioning Dylan and the press?” My gaze flicked between them. “Have they discovered we’re dating? Why are they so interested?”

Amber and Bryan glanced sideways at each other. “Have you not seen the story?” Amber asked in a small voice.

I heard the rumble of a tidal wave in the distance, a warning that things were about to get serious. “What story?” I asked, and I took a seat. “You guys are really starting to freak me out.”

Bryan took a deep breath and shook his head as he took a chair opposite me.

Amber sat next to me and said, “Have you not seen it? There’s an article in the
Sun-Times
about women sleeping their way to the top—they mention you in there.”

Sleeping my way to the top?
My stomach churned. Baking was something I’d done on my own. I hadn’t had any help from Jake, and I hadn’t met Dylan until recently, and anyway how would he help? This was why I wasn’t convinced about extending my time on
A Chicago Saturday.
“But you asked me to meet with you before I even met Dylan.”

“Exactly,” Bryan said.

“We know,” Amber said, trying to reassure me. “It will blow over. And it’s just small town gossip. Ignore it.”

“I don’t understand how dating Dylan matters. I mean, I know he’s rich and well-known, but he can’t get me my own show. Can he?”

“And that’s what I told the press when they called. I told them Dylan has no creative control over
A Chicago Saturday
or WCIL. He just doesn’t get involved with daily operations.”

“Wait, what? What do you mean ‘doesn’t get involved’?”

Amber shrugged as she fiddled with her phone. “I’ll show you what they wrote. Be strong. I think they’re just trying to start trouble, or they’re naïve about how much the moneymen get to control creative content. Really, who knows?”

Moneymen?
Why would Dylan have creative control over
A Chicago Saturday
? Investors?

“But while we’re getting our cards out on the table, it would have been good to have a heads-up. We could have had a PR plan, just in case something like this caught fire,” Bryan said.

Amber offered me her phone. “It Still Pays to Sleep with the Boss.” What the fuck? I began reading the article.

New baking sensation A Chicago Saturday’s Beth the Baker just happens to be sleeping with the owner of WCIL and Raine Media . . .

I couldn’t read any more. Dylan owned WCIL? That couldn’t be true. I dropped the phone on the desk. He would have told me. He assured me he’d never lie. I stood up, aware that Amber and Bryan were speaking but I couldn’t make out the words. I turned to the door. “I have to leave.”

Had I been unknowingly sleeping with my boss? There must have been some kind of mistake. They must have this all wrong. I spluttered out some excuse to leave. I fumbled in my bag, pulled out my phone and pressed call as I hit the sunlight.

I spotted a cab where I’d been dropped off, and I headed toward it. Dylan would explain. He’d be able to make sense of it. He’d tell me that he
used
to own Raine Media. His phone rang and rang. I climbed into the back of the cab, mumbling Dylan’s office address at the driver.

The phone went to voice mail. I couldn’t remember that ever happening before. He always picked up. The rumble of the tidal wave grew nearer. It was as if I’d woken in an alternative universe where nothing was as it should be.

We pulled up outside his office; for a fleeting moment I thought that maybe he didn’t actually work here—there was a possibility that everything I thought we’d had was a gigantic lie. I tried to shake off that feeling. I imagined Dylan grinning at me as I surprised him in his office and he pulled me into his arms, telling me that the
Sun-Times
had mixed him up with someone else, or had thought he owned Raine Media when in fact he owned a different media company. Yes, that’s what would happen.

I headed inside. “Beth Harrison for Dylan James,” I said to the security guard at the front desk. “If you could just call up for him—”

He handed me a security pass. “Take lift five to floor sixty-two. His assistant will meet you there.”

Everything felt unfamiliar as I made my way to the lift. I wanted Dylan to make me feel better, to make me feel good in the way no one else could. Perhaps I’d become more dependent on him than I had realized. How could I have gotten myself in so deep, so quickly? I didn’t really know anything about him. I hadn’t been to his office before, and I’d only met his business partner at the gala. I’d never met his parents and other than the fact that he was in the Navy, I knew nothing about Dylan’s brother. How could he be bringing up where we lived our lives when we knew so little about each other?

I stepped out of the elevator and a slim, gray-haired woman smiled warmly at me. “Beth? It’s so good to finally meet you. Dylan’s spoken of you often. He always gets me to clear his diary when you’re in town.”

I smiled, soothed by her words. “Can I see him? I need to speak to him urgently.”

Her brow furrowed. “I’m afraid he’s just stepped out for a lunch appointment. But he said he’d be quick if you want to wait.”

I checked my phone, willing it to flash with Dylan’s name. “Actually, it’s really important. Can I ask what restaurant he went to?” I pushed the elevator button to go back down to street level. “I just need to give him a quick message before I leave for the airport, and I’m afraid I can’t wait.” It was a lie and it almost stuck in my throat as I said it, but at that moment, my need to see Dylan, to see that everything was fine, overwhelmed my need to be honest.

Marie was uncomfortable with my request but my face must have convinced her of my need to see him. “He’s at Giovanni’s just on the corner of this block. Turn left when you get out of the building and it’s on the right.”

I smiled at Marie as I stepped into the elevator car. “Thank you so much.”

I hardly noticed the wind as I charged up the street and into the restaurant.

I scanned the diners, trying to find him.

“Hello, miss. Can I help you?”

I continued to search the faces of the patrons as I replied, “I’m looking for Mr. Dylan James.” I spotted his profile. He was taking a sip from his water; his strong hands looked like they could crush his glass if he held it just a fraction too tightly. I exhaled, feeling like finally I was where I should be. His face broke into a grin, but it wasn’t directed at me. He was looking at the person opposite him. I followed his line of vision . . . I stepped closer. Her red hair was unmistakable.