Playing Dirty: Windy City Kink, Book 3 (2 page)

“Do you need a ride?”

“No!” She took another step back. “I’m good! Thanks so much, though.”

She turned and ran. Well, not literally. She didn’t want to look that terrified. But she quickly exited the building.

To her surprise, the sidewalk outside the door had been scraped clean of any snow and ice. The guy doing it was still there, finishing up. He gave her a smile and a small salute, leaning on his shovel. She flashed a smile back then bolted down the sidewalk toward Michigan Avenue.

Her head was so scattered she’d walked two blocks before she realized she was going the wrong way to get the “L” train. Dammit. She stopped and sucked in a few breaths. What the hell was wrong with her? Why did that guy get to her so much?

She turned and tried to calm down as she walked to the train. Ridiculous. She was being ridiculous. She should be thinking about the next steps in trying to find another place for her business. That thought made her sigh. Just when she’d found something so perfect, someone else had grabbed it right out from under her.

For a moment she let the disappointment weigh her down. Then she lifted her chin and shook it off. Things would work out. She’d find somewhere else. Never mind all the places she’d found and had to pass on because they were too much money. Never mind all the places she could afford that she’d passed on because they weren’t in the right location. It would happen.

Everything else in her life was going great. She’d moved to Chicago just over a year ago not knowing anyone. She had a new best friend, a new roommate, and she was getting to be friends with all of
their
friends. So that was nice. Her jerk of an ex-husband—well, almost ex; he still hadn’t signed the divorce papers, but as far as she was concerned, they were divorced—hadn’t bothered her for almost a month. That was even better. Business was good—yay! She’d find a good place. It might just take a while.

Chapter Two

Paige went to her next meeting, which was with clothing designer Claire Wentworth. She managed to get her thoughts together and conduct the meeting professionally. She also managed to hide the big muddy smudge on the ass of her red coat. She hoped. Of course she didn’t meet with the designer herself but with one of her staff. They negotiated a deal where Paige got clothes at a wholesale price and therefore made money when clients purchased them at retail.

She had several such deals with individual designers, along with a big wholesale clothing company. At first, these places had been skeptical about how her business was going to work, but her client base had grown a lot, and there was evidence that if clients liked a particular designer they’d buy more of their clothing. So it was win-win.

Back at the warehouse, her assistant Trenise had packed up all the outstanding orders and they were ready to go. She was in the process of tidying while waiting for the UPS guy to come for the packages. The music of Macklemore filled the space from the small speakers Paige had set up. With only two of them working, they needed music to fill the space around them, to energize them and make them dance a little.

“How was it?” Trenise asked as soon as Paige walked in.

“It was great.” She unwound her scarf. “But probably already leased to someone else.”

“What! How can that be?”

“They showed it to someone else this morning who’s probably going to take it.”

“That’s not fair! If you’re there and ready to sign a lease, they should go with you.”

She thought about that. Trenise kind of had a point. “I guess they’re being fair to the ones who looked first. I told them it was everything we’re looking for and if the deal falls through I want it.”

“When will you know for sure?”

Good question. She’d been so flustered she hadn’t even asked that. Stupid. How was she supposed to run a business being so scattered? “I’ll call him in the morning and see what’s happening. Tonight I’ll go online and look at more options. We’ll find something.”

Trenise blew out a breath. “Yeah, I know.”

Paige gazed around the crowded space at the racks of hanging clothes, shelves of accessories and boxes waiting to be packed. There was barely room to walk around anymore. They definitely needed more room, and she wanted to add a studio where people could come in for a personal style assessment and to try some things on if they wanted to do that. She’d been hunting for space she could afford in the right area for months now.

“Marla Atkinson asked the other day about clothes for her husband,” Trenise said. “Have you thought more about expanding into men’s styling?”

“I have. I think it would work. I did some research too and talked to some of the personal shoppers I know at the big department stores. Men hate shopping, but when you’re a big business executive, you need to look good. We can’t compete with custom tailors like Joseph Dean, and I don’t want to, obviously, but for business-casual looks, lots of men are clueless.”

“That’s true. They know how to wear a suit and tie, but if they need a professional look that’s more casual, they don’t know what to do.”

“My mom still picks out my dad’s clothes,” Paige said. “He has a closet full of nice clothes but he always ends up wearing the same pair of pants and couple of shirts. So that’ll be my next project once we find space and get all moved in and set up. I’m excited about it.”

“I’m excited about having male clients.” Trenise flashed a white smile back at her. Her pretty magenta top set off her chocolate skin and dark hair perfectly.

Paige started helping her with things and they chatted about their newest clients and some marketing strategies. Then someone buzzed at the door.

“UPS guy,” Trenise said, moving to the door.

But it wasn’t the UPS guy. It was a different delivery person with a large flat box in his hands. “For Paige Nelson,” he said.

Paige ducked around Trenise. “That’s me.”

“Sign here.”

She signed for the delivery, curious about the parcel. It was heavy. Trenise closed the door and Paige carried it over to the huge table they used to put together orders. “This is weird,” she muttered. “I have no idea what this is.”

She opened the parcel, Trenise leaning against the table watching her. Inside, beneath some tissue paper, was what appeared to be a wool coat. In a beautiful crimson color, not unlike the one she had. Her coat was Donna Karan, a trench style with a big collar. It was several years old, but she loved it. This one was also Donna Karan, but this season’s, in a more updated style that Paige’s expert eyes assessed as she lifted it out of the box.

The fabric was luxurious, the details impeccable.

“What the hell?” Trenise muttered.

“Size two,” she murmured, looking at the tag. Same as the one she wore.

“It’s nice,” Trenise said. “Did you order that?”

“No.” Paige noticed something else in the box and lifted out a pair of black wool Donna Karan trousers. Also her size. “Oh my God.”

“What?” Trenise frowned and straightened.

“Who was that guy?”

“Who?” Trenise’s voice grew louder. “Paige! Tell me what’s going on! I’m dying here.”

Paige met her eyes. “I slipped and fell outside the Stennis Building just as I was going in. I skinned my knee a bit and got mud on my coat and my pants. The pants are fine, really. I brushed most of the mud off. There were two men there to show the space to me. Well, one of them seemed to just happen to be there. Mr. Lauden. He was very…apologetic about me falling and said to send the dry-cleaning bill to Brad, the guy I’ve been dealing with.”

“So…he didn’t wait for you to get your things cleaned. He sent you new ones. Seriously?”

“Um. Yeah. It appears so.” Paige shook her head. “I think he was worried I’m going to sue them or something. He even offered to take me out for dinner.”

Trenise’s eyebrows flew up. “How old is this guy?”

“Uh…mid-thirties, I’d guess.”

She grinned. “I doubt he was offering you dinner to keep you from suing.”

Paige stared at the beautiful clothing items again. “Well. Maybe not.” She grimaced. “I said it wasn’t necessary.”

“What did he look like?”

She gave Trenise a look.

“What?” Her smile widened. “Was he hot? Why didn’t you go?”

Yes. He was hot. He was blazing, burning,
red
-hot. And she didn’t go because…well, the invitation had taken her by surprise. Knocked her off-balance. And…he scared her.

She said none of this to Trenise.

“How did he…?” She remembered him taking her coat. He must have inspected the label. He obviously couldn’t have done that with her pants, which weren’t actually Donna Karan, rather, Banana Republic. “Wow.”

Trenise clapped her hands together and nearly jumped up and down. “This is
off the chain!
Hot guy with loads of cheese has a big crush on you!”

Paige’s eyes nearly bugged out staring at her. “No no no. Good jumping Christ on a pogo stick no.” She paused and her lips twitched into a smile. “Loads of
cheese
?”

Trenise laughed. “Yeah. Cheese. Cake. Guap.”

“What makes you think he has loads of cheese?”

“Girl, I know how much that Donna Karan coat is.”

“I can’t keep this. It’s crazy.”

“How are you going to send it back?”

“Uh…” She inspected the package and there was no return address. Nothing. Nada. “I’ll figure out who he is. Lauden. I’ll Google him.”

“With only a last name? Good luck with that.”

“Okay. He has to work for the company that owns the Stennis Building. I’ll send it back to them. They’ll know who Mr. Lauden is. In fact…I’ll Google that.” She hurried over to her computer and rapped the space bar to bring it back to life.

She dropped her ass down into the chair and typed. She scanned the search results. She had to go down a bit to find anything helpful. “Turns out the Stennis Building is owned by Challenger Development Group,” she relayed to Trenise. She clicked on a link for that company. Then on the link for “Our Team”. Her eyes widened as she saw the name Rafferty Lauden, President and CEO. “That can’t be him…” She clicked on his name and brought up an image and bio. “Holy shitballs.”

“Oh man. That’s him?” Trenise sighed behind her. “Girl, what were you thinking when you turned him down?”

Paige stared at the picture of the man she’d met earlier. President and CEO. Of what appeared to be a huge company. “I was thinking…I don’t ever want to be with a man like that again. And this confirms it.”

“What?”

She swiveled in her chair. “He’s too much like my ex-husband. Domineering. Money hungry. Power hungry. Abusive.”

Trenise blinked. Yes, she knew a bit about Paige’s history. “You don’t know he’s abusive,” she said slowly, but Paige saw the doubt in her eyes.

“Not for sure,” she admitted. “But he did remind me of Delmer. And I didn’t like that.” She ignored the memory of the warm curl of lust and the tug of attraction she’d felt. Damn, that pissed her off.

“Huh.” Trenise’s eyes softened. “Well. I didn’t meet him myself, so I guess I can’t comment. This was a nice thing to do, though.”

“It’s totally over the top.” Paige pushed away from the desk. “Unnecessary. Paying my dry-cleaning bill of thirty dollars or whatever would have been more than enough. I don’t blame him for me falling.”

“He owns that building. And, from the looks of that website, about a hundred other buildings.”

“Good for him.”

At that moment the UPS guy finally did arrive. Once he’d left with their shipment, it was time to call it a day. “Okay. I’m outta here. I will spend my evening with a glass of wine and my laptop, looking for somewhere else to move the business.”

“Night, Paige.”

They closed up shop and headed their different directions, Paige to the Bucktown duplex where she lived with her new roommate Kevin.

Yes, she shared a home with a dude. In fact, a dude she really didn’t even know before she’d moved in. But he was a friend of friends, sort of, and her gut told her he was a good guy. Also, he had a girlfriend, so there were no worries about ever getting sexually or romantically involved with him. There were many evenings she didn’t even see him.

Kevin was home when she got there, had already made dinner and was about to eat. They both liked cooking, so they took turns preparing evening meals. Tonight’s dinner was an amazing pasta with a spicy tomato sauce that had bacon in it. Yum.

She dished up a plate for herself and slid onto a stool at the counter, and they chatted about their day. She told him about her disappointment at losing out on the new space and the deal she’d done with Claire Wentworth.

Then for some reason she found herself saying, “Have you ever heard of Rafferty Lauden?”

“Hell yeah.”

She blinked at Kevin. “Really?”

“I’m an architect. He’s a real estate developer. Huge real estate developer.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“Very successful businessman,” Kevin continued. “I’d love to work with him.” He paused. “Why?”

She poked a piece of penne with her fork. “Just curious. He apparently owns the building I was looking at today.” She hesitated. “Have you ever met him?”

“Yeah.” Kevin squinted. “I met him once at a conference. Couple of years ago. Again…why?”

She could tell that she wasn’t going to get away with the “just curious” response again. She’d screwed herself by asking one too many questions. “I met him. He was at the building when I looked at the space. Just wondered what you thought of him.”

“Probably not the same as you do,” Kevin said with a grin. “I was impressed with how he’s grown his business. Apparently he started with nothing, came from some shit background. Started flipping houses and ended up running what’s probably the top real estate development company in Chicago.”

She nodded.

“He has a reputation as a ruthless bastard,” Kevin continued.

She flinched a little at that.

“Apparently he’s tough and strong-willed. Doesn’t tolerate screw-ups. On the other hand…” Kevin shrugged, “…he has a loyal team working for him. You don’t get loyalty by stomping all over people. That only goes so far. He’s also a player when it comes to women.” She felt Kevin’s gaze on her. She didn’t look up from her food.

“He asked me out,” she blurted.

Silence. “Uh…whoa,” Kevin said. “So that’s what this is about.”

“I said no.”

“Ooookay.”

“And what you’ve told me confirms that was the right answer. I do not want to get involved with a man like that. Everything you just told me could have described my ex-husband.” She slid off the stool and carried her half-eaten pasta to dump it into a plastic container. She’d eat it for lunch tomorrow.

“Your ex is an asshole,” Kevin said, his fork clinking against his plate as he dropped it. “Also, he’s not legally your ex yet.”

“Whatever. Sounds like Rafferty Lauden is an asshole too.”

Kevin laughed. “Well. You could be right about that. Not that nice guys always finish last, but you don’t get where he is by being a wuss.”

She turned and smiled at Kevin. “True. Whatever.” She held up her hands. “I’ll never see him again, I’m sure. Now. I’m off to go search for another spot to move my business. Thanks for dinner, it was awesome.”

“No problem. I’m going out in a while, meeting Beamer and Joe and Jack for beers.”

“Okay. Have fun.”

Up in her room, she sat at the small desk in front of her laptop. As it powered up, her fingers went to the rubber band on her wrist. She gave a tug and released it. Heat flashed on her skin. She did it again. And again. She slowed her breathing like the sting reminded her to, trying to dispel the anxiety tightening her body.

Then she tried to stop herself, but, dammit, she couldn’t, and she ended up looking at the website for Challenger Development Group. And hating herself for it.