Easy Come(Plaything #1)(13)

Normally, I looked forward to a Plaything party, lots of friends and plenty of beautiful women. But tonight, I would have preferred to stay home alone and wallow in my own arrogant stupidity.

I stood at the front picture window and stared down at the million dollar view. Sometimes I questioned that phrase ‘million dollar view’. It was a blanket of pretty lights stretched out to the sea but worth a million? Growing up, the bedroom I shared with my brother had a view of the neighbor's house. Kate Brindle, the neighbor girl, was five years older than me and she had a smile that could melt a ten-year-old boy's heart. My bedroom overlooked our postage stamp yard. From my top bunk, on just the right night, when everything fell into place and Kate's blinds were open, I could watch her brush her hair or dance in front of her mirror. That was a million dollar view. We were always so quick to place a monetary value on life's pleasures when the real pleasures in life had no quantitative value. They were priceless. After our day on the water ended with Georgie making it perfectly clear that she never wanted to see my face again, I realized I'd lost something that I could never put a price on.

Chase walked over and handed me a drink. "Here, this will get you out of that sulky mood. I hate it when you pout."

"Fuck off." I shot back the drink. "This is all your fault. If you'd be a little more selective about the women you date, I wouldn't be in this sulky mood."

Chase laughed. "Talk about a convoluted guilt plan. How the hell do I have anything to do with what was going on between you and the reporter? All I did was drop her off at your office. The rest is on you, my friend. If things went south, I guess we can expect some article that makes us all sound like rich assholes who run a lewd company." He shrugged. "Guess that sounds about right."

I walked over and put down the drink. "I have no idea what she'll write about us but fuck it. Let's go to this damn party. I need to get drunk off my ass and laid. It's the only way I'm going to get my mind off this."





Chapter Seventeen





Georgie





It was a Doris Day marathon and, frankly, coupling that with a batch of cut and bake chocolate chip cookies almost brought me out of my terrible, rotten mood. I plunked down on the couch with my plate of cookies, glass of milk and the remote. Tiger curled up at my feet, also content with the idea of fresh cookies and Doris Day.

I was only a half hour into "Pillow Talk" where Rock Hudson plays a, yes, notorious playboy, when I started reevaluating everything that had happened in the last few days. I'd started a story about my own sexual revolution, a story prompted by a man well versed in women and sexuality. In the whirlwind of unusual events that followed, I'd somehow fallen for that same man. And, all the while, he had insisted I was going to discover a lot about myself in the process. Well, I had. I was still capable of having a school girl crush on the most popular boy in school, the boy who was only interested in using me for my math notes, or in Trey's case, free publicity for his company.

That day in the restaurant he had alluded to the fact that I tried to cover up my looks so as to attract less attention. He might have been right in his assessment, but he sure as heck changed his tune when I walked out in front of the other men in my bikini. Talk about a double standard.

I spent the entire trip back to the marina sitting alone at the bow, not giving him even a glance or a word. He had stood at his helm, dark and brooding, like an angry pirate. A handsome pirate, but an angry one.

I was relieved to get back in my car and drive away from him, but as I sat on the couch watching Rock Hudson act like a cad and never giving any apologies for it, I suddenly decided that I needed that. I needed an apology. I'd done nothing wrong, and I left feeling so humiliated that those few steps forward I'd taken to find myself had now been erased with some giant steps backward.

I got up and walked to the beach bag that I'd dropped by the door. I rummaged through it for the invitation. The party was being held in one of the posh hotels downtown, about a thirty minute drive. I'd drive to the party, march straight up to Trey and let him know he was a jerk and that I needed an apology because I didn't do anything wrong. Then I'd march back out and drive home.

But first, I needed to find something to wear, something that would leave him speechless. That way I could get my scolding in before he had a chance to say anything.

Tiger lifted his round head from the couch and squinted at me as I walked toward the bedroom. "You'll have to hold the couch down without me, Tiger."





Chapter Eighteen





Georgie





I drove into the parking lot of the hotel and had to quickly pull on my high heels before the valet reached my car. I opted for the black cocktail dress I'd bought for a reporter's award dinner. The tight black jersey bodice was sleeveless with a scooped neckline. The pleated black skirt ended a good six inches above my knees, and it flounced just enough to be flirty when I walked. I'd pinned two long strands of hair back in a rhinestone clip and added my fake diamond earrings to top the look off. It all came together pretty nicely, and I was feeling quite the thing until, on my way up the steps to the hotel’s front door, three women brushed past me looking as if they'd just left a Victoria’s Secret catalog shoot. They were so spectacular, the doorman nearly fell over with a stroke as they approached the glass doors. He also nearly dropped the damn door on me as I shuffled in behind in their glittery shadow.

I stood in the vast hotel lobby, feeling suddenly very deflated. A hiccough wracked my stomach. I took a deep breath and held it, watching as the trio of spectacular women disappeared around the corner to the ballroom. I pulled out my invitation and was staring at it, thinking I should probably just toss it in the trash and head back home, when a deep voice jarred me from my thoughts.

"The party is right around the corner." The man looked to be close in age to Trey, but he was slightly smaller with thick dark copper hair and brown eyes. His black and blue sweater hugged what looked like an impressive chest and pair of arms. His hand shot out. "I'm Zane Bostwick, part owner of Plaything. You're a fresh new face. Are you one of the swimsuit models?"

"Hi, Georgie Dempsey. No. I'm not a model."

His brows were just a few shades darker than his hair. He was one of those gingers who was anything but ginger. His skin was almost a golden brown, with a few light freckles showing through. "Georgie, why does that sound familiar?" He pointed at me. "You're the reporter that Trey was talking to." He dropped his gaze to my legs and back up. "This explains a lot. Follow me inside, Trey has been in a funk all night. He'll be happy to see you."

I stopped cold in my tracks thinking that he was going to be anything but happy. "Uh, I'm thinking I might just head back home. It sounds crowded in there, and I don't want to, you know, push the capacity number. Fire department might show up."

Zane laughed. "Sexy and funny, no wonder Trey is so damn obsessed. Come on. We'll take a chance with the fire department."

I followed him, reluctantly, and tried to decipher what he'd said about Trey being obsessed but couldn't make sense of it.

The music was loud enough to shake the walls, but the talking and laughter nearly drowned it out. It was a blur of glittering chandeliers, expensive designer clothes and cocktail glasses.

Zane led me through the maze of people, but I took hold of his arm to stop him. "You know, I think I'm going to get a drink before I journey into the crowd." I motioned to the bar. "I'm sure I can find Trey on my own."

"If you're sure." Zane had to speak loudly over the clamor in the room. "Last time I saw him he was at a table in the northeast corner of the room."

"Thank you."

Zane walked away. I was somewhat relieved. I considered quickly making a getaway, no longer convinced I had even close to the amount of courage I needed to deliver my lecture. I decided the drive wouldn't be wasted if I tried a few appetizers and a wine spritzer. I headed toward the center of the room where a three story display of food and drinks had been laid out on shiny blue tablecloths. I picked up a small plate and grabbed a few stuffed mushrooms and a sparkling glass of wine.

My gaze shot in the direction that Zane had pointed, but there were far too many people in the room to see the northeast corner. The dance floor was packed with people. Many of them already looked solidly drunk. So this was what a Plaything party looked like. Actually, it was exactly what I’d expected, a lot of beautiful, rich people enjoying the excesses of their wealthy lifestyle. I wondered how many were friends and how many were business partners. One thing was for sure, there was no shortage of gorgeous, sophisticated women in Trey's life. I was starting to feel beyond silly for even being there. I needed to go back home to my movie marathon and my cat and either write a story or my resignation letter for the magazine. I was leaning toward the latter. I could manage for a few months without a salary.

I finished my mushrooms and wine and was devising a plan on how to sneak out a few chocolate strawberries and mini cakes in a napkin when a man came up to the table. He had his long hair tied back in a ponytail with a black bow like a man from the eighteenth century. He was even wearing a white cravat under his black suit. Apparently he was trying to bring back an earlier century, and he was doing an admirable job of it. He looked fairly dashing in the cravat. There was something familiar about his face, but I couldn't figure out where I'd seen him before.