More Than You Know (6 page)

“Sounds reasonable,” Charles nodded. “I look forward to hearing her.”

“You also look forward to seeing her,” Tess chimed in with a mischievous grin. “My friend Jeannie said she's absolutely gorgeous.”

“Oh yeah?” Charles's eyebrows lifted, intrigued as he looked his brother's way. “Got a picture?”

“Of course.” Dane reached for his phone, trying to seem casual as he scrolled through. His siblings knew him too well. He didn't want his lust for Julia to show all over his face. He located her photo and handed his phone to his brother.

Charles looked, and his eyes widened a drop. He let out a low whistle. “
Damn.
” Looking up, he met Dane's eyes. “A beautiful redhead. Your Achilles' heel. Good luck with that.”

“Shut up, Chuckles.” Dane snatched his phone back as his siblings laughed knowingly.

“Redheads are your weakness, huh?” Tess needled. She smiled as she stroked her dog's fur, cradling her in her lap. “I just learned something.”

“Every day's a school day, Tess,” Dane said.

Bubbles yipped and Tess shushed her as she said, “And here I thought you loved all women equally.”

“Oh, he does,” Charles said. “But redheads . . . oof. He's putty. Especially a beautiful and
smart
redhead.” He glanced back to Dane. “Is she smart?”

“As a whip,” Dane muttered. “She's tough, too. She takes no shit.”

“Ha!” Charles crowed with a smug smile. “Forget it. If you're not careful, she'll have you lapping at her feet in no time at all.”

“Just shut up,” Dane ordered. “There's not going to be any of that going on.”

Charles snorted. “Yeah. Sure.”

“I'm serious,” Dane insisted, an edge in his voice. “She works for me. I'm her boss now. I don't cross those lines. Our relations will be strictly professional. End of story.”

“Famous last words,” Tess murmured with a grin. Bubbles barked, seeming to agree.

Chapter Four

Julia made her way up the two flights of steep stairs to her apartment, straining from the weight of the four bags of groceries she carried along with her pocketbook. This was one of the times she hated living on the middle floor of an old house.

She dropped the bags with a thud in front of her door, searched her pocketbook, found her keys, and unlocked her door. After kicking the door shut behind her with her foot, she dragged the bags into the kitchen and started unpacking the items into the refrigerator and tiny closet she used as a pantry.

She'd lived there for a decade already. It had been twelve years since she'd left Boston and moved back to Long Island. At first, she'd shared an apartment with Kelvin over in Edgewater. He'd moved to New York with her, unwilling to leave her when she was so alone and at rock bottom. Between her emotional devastation at the hands of her ex, breaking away from her unsympathetic family, and her small income, having a roommate helped her slowly get back on her feet. He worked several gigs on Long Island and in Manhattan, piecing together enough to be able to live on his earnings. She found a quiet office job and a good therapist. For two years, they lived together, until she'd healed enough for him to feel she was fine on her own. He moved to Astoria, and she moved to Blue Harbor.

She loved Blue Harbor, with its seaside New England–type charm. A sleepy town dotted with tiny shops, restaurants, boutiques, and charming old houses, she'd dreamed of living there as a kid. Now, completely on her own, she could. Her landlords, a kind couple twenty years her senior, owned the tremendous old house and lived on the bottom floor. She rented the second floor, and another tenant lived on the top floor. She felt safe there. It was quiet, and although she was alone, there were people nearby.

When the last of the groceries were stashed away, she washed her hands and looked around. She'd given notice at her job the day before, and in a show of petulant anger, her shortsighted boss had told her to just leave. It had been sad to say such a rushed good-bye to her coworkers, but as she'd left the gray, stifling office, she'd done so with a smile and a rush of elation. The new chapter of her life was going to be exciting. Getting paid to do what she loved most, and getting paid handsomely. But she wouldn't be starting the job at the hotel for another two weeks. Her errands all completed, she found herself with nothing to do. It was a strange, almost unsettling feeling.

Leaning against the small table that was shoved against the wall, she drank down a glass of water and looked to the window. It was a beautiful afternoon. Golden sunlight poured in through the gauzy white curtain, splashing on the three pots of African violets on the windowsill and bouncing off the pale yellow walls. She moved to the living room and turned on the air conditioner wedged into one of the two windows. It started to hum and she sank down onto her couch. A glance at the answering machine showed no messages. She reached for her Kindle, curled up into the cushions, and played a few rounds of Words With Friends with the random strangers she'd challenged.

After the games were finished, she sighed. At this time tomorrow, she'd be in the city, getting a personal tour of the new hotel from its debonair, charming, and gorgeous owner. Thoughts of Dane Harrison floated into her mind, but she swatted them away. It was a shame, because she would have loved a few rounds of sheet gymnastics with him. But no, that would never happen.

What to do? Randi was at work, and Kelvin was spending the day at the beach with his new boyfriend. Though she was a voracious reader, she didn't feel like reading. She didn't mind being alone, she'd gotten used to it over the years. But sometimes she longed for company. Restlessness, laced with threads of anxiety, stirred inside her. She looked around aimlessly at the periwinkle walls, the framed artwork, her bookshelf, her few precious framed photos on the top shelf. She'd done her best to make her home feel cozy and warm. But there were times she couldn't escape the quiet emptiness there, the loneliness of her life. And suddenly, this was one of them.

With new determination, she rose from the couch and went to her bedroom. She stripped out of her sundress and changed into a tank top and loose shorts. The SPF 70 sunblock was in her small bathroom, and she slathered it all over her arms, legs, chest, face, every inch of pale skin that was exposed. She grabbed her big floppy sun hat, her iPod, and her keys, and left to go for a walk down by the water. The sight and sounds of the Long Island Sound always had a way of soothing her soul. She'd just make sure to stay away from the park; the sound of happy children playing would break her heart when she was in a melancholy mood like this.

 

 

The next day, as Julia emerged from the cab, her heart began to beat a little faster. Excitement and anticipation fired up all her senses. It was a gorgeous early June day in New York City, warm but not too hot yet, with the sun shining from a clear, bright blue sky. A few trees dotted the length of the sidewalk, and a soft breeze made the emerald leaves flutter and sway. The cacophony of city sounds—traffic, horns blowing, human voices—seemed to fade around her as she looked up at the entrance to the impressive soon-to-open Hotel Alexandra.

This was really happening.

She removed her wide sunglasses and tucked them into her large shoulder bag, shuffling around inside it for a mint. As she chewed it up quickly, she tried to calm her suddenly rapid breathing and swept her hair back from her face. The contracts had been signed and delivered two weeks before, her photo shoot and press kit arranged and completed the week before. In two short weeks, she'd be the headlining singer at this sleek Manhattan hotspot. It was surreal. Her head hadn't stopped spinning. And now, between the warm weather, her meager breakfast, and her nerves, she wondered if she'd even make it through the tour of the hotel Dane had invited her for—maybe she'd pass out instead.

She pushed her way through the glass revolving door and into the lobby. Thankfully, it was cool, the welcome air conditioning flowing over her skin. She crossed the lushly carpeted floor to the main desk, smiling at the woman behind it. “Hi. I'm looking for Dane Harrison. I'm supposed to meet him here.”

“Ms. Shay?” the woman asked.

“That's me.”

“He was here five minutes ago, but had to take a call. He asked if you'd be kind enough to wait and he'd be right back.”

“Sure. Could you just point me toward a ladies' room while I wait?”

Julia took the opportunity to survey her surroundings as she headed to the restroom. This would be her workplace, after all. From what she could see, the hotel was striking. Modern but not trendy, everything from the luxurious furnishings to the décor spoke of crisp elegance, style, taste, and big-time bucks. Dane Harrison had obviously spared no expense in the design and decorating of his newest hotel.

She washed her hands, fixed her hair, and touched up her makeup. The slight humidity in the summer air had made the waves in her hair more pronounced, but at least the expensive product she'd used had tamed the deadly frizz she'd suffered from as a kid. Her clothes had barely wrinkled, for which she was grateful. The sleeveless royal blue silk top and white pencil skirt still looked fresh. Her open-toe white wedge sandals were comfortable but attractive. She took a deep breath, released it, and stared into the mirror.

Her eyes took on an energized sparkle and her chin lifted a notch as she popped another mint into her mouth.
Let's do this.

She left the restroom to return to the lobby. Halfway across, she stopped in her tracks. Dane was standing by the large wall of windows that looked out to the street beyond. Sunlight shone through the glass, backlighting him dramatically. His dark curls were just a bit too long for business standards, and she had a feeling he liked it that way. His square jaw was covered with light stubble, another poke at the business world, letting everyone know that he was a man who did as he pleased. It also made him even sexier, damn him. Standing tall and sure, his trim frame dressed in a crisp white button-down shirt and dark gray slacks, he was even more handsome than she'd remembered. He was breathtaking, actually. Just looking at him made all her body parts jump to life, made her blood sing in her veins and her skin tingle. Ohhh, this was not good. She couldn't have such visceral reactions every time she saw this man. He was her
boss
now.

He spotted her across the lobby and flashed a grin. She swallowed hard as a wallop of heat spread through her. A grin like that should be registered as a lethal weapon. With all of her senses heightened and her head screaming red alert, she pulled out her most professional smile and crossed the rest of the way to meet him.

“Great to see you again, Julia,” Dane said. “Glad you could come.” His brilliant blue eyes swept over her briefly. There was both quick approval and the ever-present spark of light amusement there, like he had a joke or a secret to share. She wanted to be let in on that secret. She wanted a lot of things where this man was concerned, and all of them were naughty, if not downright wicked. He stretched out a welcoming hand.

She slipped her hand into his to shake it and felt a jolt of desire as she touched his warm skin, like she'd read about in books. Her hormones raged like a teen's, and that jarred her. But with measured cool, she said, “Likewise. Thanks for asking me. I really wanted to get a feel for the setup of the lounge. I appreciate your taking the time to show me around. I'm sure you're very busy.”

“I am, but not too busy for this. It'll be a pleasure.” His grin widened into a proud smile as his eyes flickered around the lobby, then back to her. “So? What do you think so far?”

“Your lobby and ladies' room are both magnificent,” she teased.

He laughed and touched a hand to the small of her back. “Wait 'til you see the rest of it.”

His tiny but intimate gesture kindled flames of lust in her, sending heat to all her most sensitive spots. Oh, what she could do with this man under different circumstances. Five years plus of an age difference didn't make her a cougar, did it? So what if it did. She didn't care. Being near him was excruciating, making every nerve ending alert and alive, and the growing, tingling tension building low in her belly was making its way to between her legs. The effect he had on her was both thrilling and nerve-wracking. Kelvin had been right: pure chemistry. She ignored the way her heart was pounding in heavy thumps as they walked side by side down a long hallway.

“So,” she said, desperate to get her mind off her wayward thoughts. “Why'd you name this hotel the Alexandra?”

His smile was tinged with affection as he said, “It's my sister's middle name.”

Something tugged at Julia's heart. She smiled back. “That's . . . sweet. You're close with her, then?”

“Very. Tess is the best. I'll introduce you to her at the hotel opening.” Dane turned and led her down another hallway. She took the moment to quickly check out his ass, which was a very nice one indeed.

The Alexandra Bar & Lounge had wide glass doors, hinting at the darker lair beyond. She stopped in her tracks. Beside the entrance was a blown-up photo on a stand, one of her publicity shots, announcing her as the main act inside. She stared at it. It was so . . . professional. Glitzy. Polished. For a second, she felt like a star. And dammit, it felt good.

“You approve?” Dane asked from behind her.

“Yes.” She could feel him watching her, taking in her reactions. Nodding, she said, “It's nice. I like the shot you chose.”

“It was hard to choose,” he said, his deep voice warm, just above her ear. Even in her three-inch wedge sandals, he towered over her. “All the shots were good. Seriously. The camera loves you.” She looked up at him, and though he wore an easy grin, his eyes glittered at her with a hint of sin. “And that's more than a ‘nice' shot, Julia. It's gorgeous. Just like you.”

“Thank you,” she said demurely. He stood close enough that the faintest scent of his cologne teased her, sparking new fires in her body. Slightly spicy, it wasn't overpowering, it was just a hint—just enough to make everything tingle with desire.

“Come on inside.” He opened one of the doors and ushered her in.

Her breath caught. This place was fabulous. Modern, stylish, and cool. Little round tables with curved-back chairs dotted the front of the room, the lounge area. Then there was more open floor space by the bar, and along the back wall, six deep, cozy booths, with seats covered in dark brown leather. Julia followed Dane farther into the room. Low lighting from funky fixtures above illuminated the room, except for the bar itself—eight or ten shelves held every kind of top liquor there was, backlit against mirrors. And at the front of the lounge area was what would be her domain: a small rectangular stage, not too highly elevated, to promote some intimacy with the audience. It was mostly filled by a black Steinway piano.

“You like it?” Dane asked casually, peering at her.

“Yes, I do,” she said, understating it by a mile. It was amazing. She already loved it. She could imagine what it would be like when filled, crackling with lively late-night energy. A respectable, upscale place, a place to be proud to sing in, with Kelvin at her back . . . it was going to be very enjoyable indeed to work here. “How many does the lounge hold?”

“A hundred. And room for over a hundred more in the bar.”

She nodded and stepped up to the stage, turned to face the room, and took in the view from her vantage point. She felt like she'd just stepped up on an Olympic podium to accept a gold medal. “Nice.” Her eyes flickered to Dane. “The aesthetics are great, but how are the acoustics?”