Chapter Twenty-Eight

 

Scottie waited in the living room, wearing her little black dress. She’d worn it to her graduation dinner in May, and to an evening out afterward with Tara and a couple other classmates she’d kept in touch with. Not many though.

“I see cleavage. Must be a special night.” Tara walked into the living room, her Decadent Chick apron wrapped around her waist, sarcasm twisting her lips.

“You already stated your opinion, Tara. I don’t need to hear it again.” She glanced at her cell phone. Five until eight. “Where’s Brett? Can’t you annoy him instead?” That was low. Scottie felt regret immediately after.

“He isn’t around anymore. But of course, you wouldn’t know because you’ve been screwing your boss every night this week. I’ve hardly seen you.”

Scottie snapped her eyes to Tara. When had she become so cruel? She’d not remembered their relationship hitting this low in the past twenty years of their friendship.

“God, Tara. It’s not like that.” Scottie’s voice grew soft. “What happened with Brett?”

Tara sighed heavily, her head falling in her palm. “Nothing. I’m sorry. I’ve been really upset lately.”

Scottie didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t okay for Tara to treat her that way, but she forgave her anyway. “I know you have.”

“I need help with another catering job. It’s a party for fifty people on Friday. Can you do it?”

The doorbell rang. Scottie didn’t inquire about the party. With only a few more hundred dollars before she could buy her brooch back, she couldn’t refuse. Everything was finally starting to fall into place for her. “Yes, I’ll do it.” The doorbell rang again. “I have to go.”

“God, he’s demanding. Give a girl a minute to answer the door.” Tara rolled her eyes and walked back into the kitchen, her attitude resurfacing.

Scottie sighed, grabbing her clutch and the overnight bag she’d packed, and strode to the door with Konrad on the other side.

His blue eyes gleamed like sapphires. “My God, we may not make it to dinner.”

“We better.” She slipped outside and closed the door behind her. “I’m starving.”

He leaned down to kiss her, his moan dancing in her ear. “Yes, milady.”

Like the gentleman she’d started to see him as, Konrad opened the passenger door and helped her in the sports car. “You smell good,” he said.

“Thank you.” She rode her palms up his chest from his naval, his eyes eating her alive as she did it.

“I thought you were starving? A move like that will get you naked in my bed without dinner.”

“Oh…” She dropped her hand in her lap. “Sorry.”

He laughed, shutting the door. Scottie watched him walk around the front, all the while thinking how lucky she was. Despite any initial impression, he was perfect. He was an absolute dream. He was the dream.

Konrad drove the car through the Heights and into the Museum District to L’Atelier Restaurant. Scottie had never been there. Inside, Konrad had reserved the chef’s private table for two, complete with prix fixe menu and wine pairing. Scottie noticed all the attention they received. Konrad couldn’t be missed. With his suit and handsome looks, every set of eyes were on him. She’d have to get used to it.

She became aware of Konrad staring at her from across the table. She’d been too focused on everyone else. “What?” She felt nervous. Aware of herself.

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”

The heat of embarrassment warmed her cheeks. “I-I don’t know.” Konrad had been the only one to say that to her with that look in his eyes. As if he really meant it.

“You should know, and you should never forget it.” He took the prix fixe menu, scanning it casually as if he hadn’t just rocked her world with his words.

The waiter came to take drink orders. Konrad ordered scotch, of course, and she ordered a lemon drop martini. He snickered when she ordered it.

When the waiter left, Konrad said, “That’s not far off from a fuzzy navel, love.”

“Shut up!” She threw a sugar packet at him, which was totally unacceptable for the fine dining restaurant.

He tossed it back at her, which was not what she expected. He was too refined to do it. “You’re in so much trouble, Scottine Roberts.”

“I don’t think you know what trouble is, Konrad Korr.” She narrowed her gaze.

But playtime was quickly over. He grew serious and pensive.

Scottie wanted to know more. She wanted to know what had moved him so much in that moment. “Where did you go?”

“I just thought about my Mutter—mother.” His answer was quick, but the explanation was put on hold as the waiter set down their drinks.

“Your first course will come out shortly. Are you on the three-hour dining experience?”

Konrad glanced at Scottie. “Can you make it two?”

The waiter nodded. “Of course.” He was gone again.

Scottie took her martini glass, her tongue touching the sugared rim. The sweet liquid eased down her throat. Her gaze was still on Konrad, who also had his gaze on her.

“You’re waiting for me to finish, aren’t you?”

“Yes. If you want to tell me. It’s up to you.”

He sipped again, dragging the gulp down. She hung on his every move. “I was noncompliant as a youth. She said to me ‘you don’t know what trouble is, my son.’ Sie wissen nicht, was das Problem ist mein Sohn. That was the last time I talked to her. She died not long after.”

Her heart clenched up. “Oh.”

“Your words … it just reminded me of her.”

“Oh no. I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

“It’s okay. How could you know?” Konrad dropped his gaze a moment. Scottie didn’t believe that for one second. He continued on his own accord, “She overdosed on her medication. That’s what I was told.”

Oh God. Scottie’s eyes welled up. Konrad’s mother committed suicide? Maybe intentionally? She wanted to go to him and ease that tortured look off his face.

He drank again, this time draining the glass and leaving nothing but a ball of ice. “She had depression.”

“That’s awful.” She was breathless.

“Yeah, it really is.”

“Were you close to her?”

His eyes darkened to almost black. The man looked like he was in agony talking about it. It passed quickly though. She wondered how long he’d been suppressing his feelings about it.

“Not as close as I should have been. My father made sure of that.” There was a bitterness in his voice.

Scottie’s heart could burst with all the emotions she felt. She didn’t blame him anymore for who he was. How could a person get close to someone else when the prospect of losing them was all too possible? Scottie knew the feeling. Her own father might as well have been dead.

“Does your father live in Germany?”

He shook his head, looking done with the heavy stuff. “No. That bastard lives six feet under in Austria.” Konrad lifted his glass to their passing waiter.

“I’m sorry. I hope I haven’t ruined this evening with my questions.” She reached out to touch his hand and get his full attention. “I just wanted to know.”

He smiled, weaving his fingers through hers. “I know. That’s what I love about you. You want to know me.”

She did. She wanted to know everything.

****

Thursday morning arrived too fast. She woke in Konrad’s arms, warm and comfortable. She was sore all over from their perfect night. Konrad stirred, pulling her tighter into him, his thick leg slung over her hip. There was no escaping him.

“Kon?” She rubbed his forearm that was crossing her chest. He moaned, nuzzling her neck. His erection hit the back of her thigh, and she wanted him again. “Kon?”

“Mmm … keep doing that, and you’ll be late for work,” he whispered against her ear.

She pushed herself farther into his erection. Before she knew it, he awoke, gripping her hips, his erection moving against her, back and forth, teasing her. Reminding her how powerful he was.

She moaned in pleasure. Every cell in her body sparked with energy. She wanted him so much. Every morning, she wanted to wake up this way.

He groaned as he pushed inside of her, filling her, making her soreness pop. “You feel so amazing. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of this.”

She thrust her hips back into him, finding a rhythm that took her to the edge. They were moving together, like an orchestra, feeling each other, hearing each other, knowing each other as they reached their heights of pleasure.

“Yeah,” he moaned, his lips on her shoulder, sucking her skin. “Do you like it?”

“I love it,” she cried, taking his faster, harder thrusts. She begged for them.

“I want this all the time, Scottie,” he said, breathless between movements. “I want you like this every morning.”

“What?” she choked out, moving harder against him.

“You and me.” He went faster still, making her pinnacle of pleasure emerge quickly. “I want you to be my girlfriend.”

In a hard explosion within, she came undone. The room fell around her, and she was falling into Konrad. He was next, pulling her into him as he pulled out of her and released against her. His heart beat wildly through his skin. She could count every pulse. It matched hers.

When she’d calmed, resuming normal breathing, she turned to face him. His eyes were closed, and he looked peaceful. “Konrad?”

Slowly opening his eyes, he gave her those gorgeous ocean eyes that made her heart still. “Yes, baby.”

“I want that too. I want to be your girlfriend.”

He kissed her softly, then hard. When they parted, she couldn’t imagine him being the man she’d met less than two weeks ago. Had it only it been eleven days? It felt more like eleven months. Eleven years.

“I always thought, if my father didn’t want to hang around, why would anyone else? But you changed that for me. You changed me.” She closed her eyes because she didn’t want to cry.

Warm fingertips trailed down her cheek. Konrad kissed her fallen tear. “And you changed me too, Schatzi.”

****

Konrad dropped off Scottie at the office just after nine in the morning. He’d summoned his pilot to fly his company plane to Dallas for a meeting and would be gone all day. Scottie kissed him before she opened the car door.

“I’ll be back later today.”

“Okay.”

“You’re coming with me to guys’ night this evening. I want to introduce you properly.”

“But this job…”

“Don’t worry. We’ll work it out.” He caressed her cheek. The man could be so tender.

Scottie nodded. Yes, they would work it out somehow. In the meantime, she intended to look for permanent work on her own. Without the agency.

“Bye.” She slipped out of the car.

“Cheerio, babe.”

She closed the door, watching him speed away in his chick magnet. Sighing, she turned toward the Korr Corp building. She was beyond late. She hoped no one would ask any questions.

Inside, she walked through the lobby, Susan waving at her. Thank goodness she’d been on a call, as usual. But she called to her just before Scottie walked into the suite.

“Scottie…”

“Yes?”

Susan pulled out a garment bag and handed it over the reception desk. “Konrad’s dry cleaning was delivered.”

“Oh … okay.” She took the heavy garment bag, which had been several suits on hangers banded together. “Thanks.”

In Konrad’s office, she hung the garments on a rolling rack he had near his mini bar while she called Space City Pawn on her cell phone. A man answered on the first ring.

“Space City Pawn.”

Scottie held the phone up to her ear with her shoulder as she straightened the bags, removing the band that connected the hangers. “Hi, I’m calling about an item I pawned last week.”

“Which item?” He seemed bored.

“A Rene Lalique gold brooch. You gave me twelve hundred for it.” Just as she shook the last bag containing a suit jacket, a Post-it attached to a folded napkin fell off.

“Oh right,” he said. A rustle of papers filled the receiver.

Scottie bent over to pick up the folded napkin. “Is it still available?”

“Yeah.”

Scottie scanned the print on the Post-it. Found in pocket. Scottie frowned. “You said I can get it back for what I sold it for.”

“No.” His tone was harsh. “That’s a twenty-four-hour option. It’s been a week. The price is five thousand now. I’ve already had a couple of interested buyers. So, I can’t guarantee the price won’t go up.”

Her heart stopped. No. “What?” To stall herself from the real prospect that she would never see her grandmother’s brooch again, she opened the attached napkin, quickly wishing she had not.

“Sorry, ma’am. But you signed the contract of sale.”

The napkin was filled with Konrad’s handwriting. She’d recognize it anywhere. She dropped her phone, and read the words again.

September Hookups

H Bar Bartendress

Tamsin

Anisette

Hot Yoga Instructor

Pilar

Greek Starbucks Barista on West Gray Ave.

Temp S.R.

Oh, God. She was Temp S.R., the seventh hookup for this month. It was only the fourteenth of September. Just two weeks into the month. Scottie felt like she’d been run over. Run over and then minced and then dumped on Galveston Beach.

This was the man she was with? This was the man she’d lowered her guard for? This man, who she swore she was falling for, had a hookup list for September. And she was seventh on it. How many more were there? God. She didn’t want to know.

The tears fell. Her heart fell. And she would have fallen on her knees if the damn walls and doors weren’t glass. In anger, she stormed to his desk, ripping a piece of tape from the dispenser. She took the napkin and taped it to the seat of his pretentious executive chair. He wouldn’t miss it there. That should give him all the explanation he needed when she wasn’t in her cube when he returned. Ever.

She stormed to her desk, retrieving her purse. She never wanted to see the inside of Korr Corp ever again. Or the Korr penthouse. She was done.