With the help of Kevin, who sent the “beautiful people” who frequented his club to my no-name boutique, my business boomed. Women and men alike fell in love with the innovative, sexy, and reasonably priced undergarments; it became the word-of-mouth, in-the-know place to shop for lingerie…leading me to call my boutique, Gloria’s Secret. With my success, I was able to secure a small business loan and six months later, I opened the flagship store, Gloria’s Secret, in the Beverly Center, a popular LA mall. The store was an overnight success; a catalogue followed along with a robust website. Kevin quit his job to become my partner and head of Public Relations and Marketing. One year later, enter billionaire businessman Victor Holden, who smelled a winner, invested millions, and took the company public. The rest is history. One store grew to thousands worldwide and a billionaire dollar a year business.
I took another sip of my wine. Meeting Jaime’s gaze, I didn’t go into details. “What you see is what you get.”
“So far, I like what I’ve seen.” He paused. “And I like what I’ve gotten.”
The double entendres weren’t lost on me. I shifted in my seat and crossed my legs under the table to quell the twitching sensation between them.
“But what’s that scar on your chest?”
My breath caught in my throat. I almost spit up the wine. He had noticed the scar. The reminder of everything I wanted to forget.
“None of your business,” I snapped at him.
“Ah, so Gloria has a secret.”
Damn him! He was unnerving me. There was no way I was going to open up to this man about my past. That one regrettable moment in time. I didn’t want to go there. It was bad enough to live it every waking hour and in my dreams. I quickly changed the subject, focusing on him.
“So, Mr. Zander, tell me, how did you get into advertising?”
“I had a talent. An artistic one. Rather than going to college, I came East and set up meetings with one ad agency after another to show them my portfolio.”
I was intrigued. “And then what happened?”
“I got hired by one of the major Madison Avenue agencies—which I’m sure you’ve met with—to be an art director. While I was touted as a wunderkind, the corporate world was not for me. Too many rules; too much bullshit. I stuck it out for five years, then finally called it quits. A few key clients left with me. Long story short…they rounded up some investor money, and I started ZAP! Zander And People.”
He was self-made like me. I was awed, but didn’t show it. “So, how did you become a billionaire?”
“Ah, so you fooled me. You’ve done your research too. I’m impressed.”
I wasn’t about to tell him that Vivien leaked this tidbit to me though it was fairly obvious.
He sipped his wine. “I inherited several million dollars from my mother, and during the recession a few years ago, I made some lucky investments.”
“So you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth.”
“Hardly.” Jaime’s tone darkened. “My mother married someone very wealthy when I was thirteen.”
“It must have been fun being a rich kid.”
“Money comes with benefits. It also comes with baggage.”
“Oh, is that your tagline for your poor little rich boy poster?”
Jaime’s eyes flared, making me immediately regret what I’d just said. His somber expression suggested that his childhood memories, like mine, might not be happy ones. Perhaps, he was harboring some dark secret too. I flashed back to the faint white marks on his back. Scars? Before I could say a word, the steak tartare and artichoke arrived. Jaime’s face brightened. The attentive waiter refilled our wine goblets and then scurried off.
I imbibed more wine. The smooth, rich liquid poured down my throat and coursed through my bloodstream. I was loosening up. Slow down, Gloria. You don’t want to get drunk.
Jaime cut off the voice of my inner conscious. “Spread your lips, ” I heard him say.
I found myself spreading my legs.
Jaime let out a sexy little laugh. “I was referring to your mouth. I want to give you your first taste of the steak tartare.”
I felt flushed with embarrassment. He was affecting me again. The area between my inner thighs was getting hot and wet. This was not supposed to be happening. I was losing control!
“Excuse me, I have to use the restroom,” I said, leaping to my feet. I needed to get away from him. Compose myself. Focus on business.
“It’s in the front of the restaurant, up the stairs,” he said, eyeing my body. “I’ll be here waiting for you.”
I felt his eyes on me the entire time as I made my way to the packed front room and up a rickety spiral staircase. There was a long waiting line to the ladies’ room.