Call me Josie, /please/. She took a step closer to the huge man and touched his arm. Only the lady at the dry cleaners calls me?Miss Sheehan.
Teenys smile widened. You got it, Josie. Night.
Rick cradled her hand as they watched Teeny walk around the side of the main house. Shall we start our weekend, then? he said, smiling down at her in the dark.
I thought we already had.
Weve not even begun, Rick said. Ive got big plans for you, Josephine. /My girlfriend/. With those two words, Gwen Anderss world had collapsed.
The dinner meeting had been an utter waste of time. The swinging dicks from Staunton and Blalock didnt know a damn thing more than she did.
They were just fumbling around in the dark like everyone else. It wasnt about the thrill anymore. It was only about survival. In the world of finance, the line that separated the heroes from the villains had always been somewhat blurry. Now it had been obliterated. The rules had changed on everyone, overnight.
Just like in her personal life.
Gwen took another gulp of wine, ashamed that she was slamming down a three-hundred-dollar bottle of California cab like it was Welchs grape juice. Shed been saving that bottle for the evening Rick would finally be sitting here with her, in front of the fireplace on a cool San Francisco night, the lights of Fishermans Wharf twinkling below. /Girlfriend./ Gwen had known for a few months now that Rick was ready to have a breakthrough. Hed been laughing more. Talking more. His life seemed to have a robust quality about it that shed never seen. He was about to emerge from his cocoon, and why? Gwen herself, of course. Her presence had coaxed Rick out of hidingher beauty, her steadfast devotion, and her quiet support. He was about to admit his hidden attraction for her. And she was waiting for him with open arms. /Girlfriend?/ Absurd! She and Rick were destined for each other. Shed known it from the start, the afternoon shed been brought in for the interview. She was his perfect match, his equal in all respects, the man shed been created for. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. Fucking /perfect/. /Girlfriend!/ How could this have happened? Who was she? How did she get to him? Just how beautiful /was/ this woman?
Gwen jerked to attention, her wine nearly spilling. There wasnt anyone more beautiful than she was. That wasnt her ego talking. It was simply the truth.
She threw her wine glass across the room. The crystal shattered. The ruby-red liquid dripped like tears down her off-white walls and splashed on her white carpet.
Gwen dropped her face into her hands. Shed saved herself for himnearly six long years of deprivation. Living like a fucking nun! Turning down hundreds of offers from menmany of them very rich and handsome menbecause she was waiting for Rick Rousseau!
Bastard. Liar. Traitor.
She heard her own voice cry out. When she began to slide off the sofa it was like she couldnt prevent ither bones had melted in the heat of his betrayal. Her knees hit the plush carpet. She fell forward, pounding her fists into the rug. /Bastard! Liar! How could you do this to me! You were supposed to be mine!/ Gwen regained consciousness when the morning light slipped through the slats of her miniblinds. Her mouth felt as if it were stuffed with sand.
Her head pounded. She opened her eyes to find herself crumpled on the living room floor. When she raised her head she was treated to the horrific sight of cabernet sauvignon on the wall, dried like trails of blood on pale skin.
Instantlyseamlesslyher thoughts turned to Bennett Cummings.
CHAPTER 13
It didnt happen often, but Josie was rendered speechless the moment she stepped from the outdoor balcony and into Ricks suite.
The bathroom is right through there, Rick said, carrying the bags through the room and nodding his head to the left. He disappeared into what looked like a huge dressing room with walk-in closets. Josie heard the thud of the bags hitting the floor.
We should have everything you need, Rick called out, but let me know if theres something extra you might like.
Josie remained silent, staring. The first eye-opener had to be the bed.
It was quite old, and quite large. It was made of a dark wood like mahogany, and the headboard was carved in an ornate pattern of ocean waves and dolphins and sea birds, and it stretched all the way to the ceiling, which had to be ten feet high. The footboard was carved in the same motif and was about four feet high.
The whole vision was covered in what looked like decadent cotton and silk in a muted bluepillows of every size, sheets, down comforter, coverlet. The bed was so high up off the floor that there were his-and-her step stools on either side.
A dresser and mirror took up most of the opposite wall. Made of the same mahogany and carved in the same fancy design, the dressing table was topped with gray marble and the mirror frame stretched all the way to the ceiling.
The room was rounded out by a huge fireplace, several groupings of settees with tables and lamps, six floor-to-ceiling windows, and an antique Persian carpet.
You okay?
Josies mouth must have been hanging open unattractively. She tried to collect herself. Dear God, Rick, she whispered.
He laughed, moving toward where she stood in the center of the huge room. Most of the furniture in here is original to the house, he said, kissing her cheek. This place has a pretty colorful pastwould you like me to tell you the story?
I love stories, Josie said.
Then lets get comfy. Rick guided Josie to the bed and helped her up one of the step stools, kind enough to steady her by placing his hands firmly on her ass.
Youre a true gentleman, she told him.
Id hate for you to injure yourself, he said, patting her behind protectively.
Rick laid Josie on her back, propped her up comfortably on pillows, then stretched out beside her. He cleared his throat. Once upon a timewell, in 1883, to be precisethis place was built as a hotel for travelers from the Sonoma Valley train station up the road. Rick played with Josies hair for a few moments, then dragged a fingertip down the length of her nose.
About ten years later, a mysterious woman bought the property. She was a biracial daughter of a former slave with some bad-ass entrepreneurial skillsshe turned the hotel into the regions premier bordello.
No! Josie tried to sit up but Rick soothed her shoulders back down.
Oh, yes. Just relax and let me tell you all about it. He kissed her lips softly and continued. So Madame Toulouse, as she was called Youre making this up.
I am not. Rick kissed the side of her neck. Madame /Too-loose/ made sure there was always plenty of live music, liquor, and immoral babes to go around. Apparently, she did a bang-up business.
Okaynow I know youre making this up, Josie said, rolling her eyes at the bad puns.
She became a very rich woman, Rick continued, as he unbuttoned the first three buttons of Josies shirt. Local law enforcement turned a blind eye to the shenanigans, mostly because they were blind drunk and holed up behind locked doors like the rest of the regulars.
Ah, yesthe birth of undercover work.
Rick nodded. Youre the funniest woman Ive ever met, have I told you that?
You only say that because Im letting you unbutton my shirt.
He leaned forward and kissed the now exposed tops of her breasts, moaning in delight. Rick looked up at Josie. Youve also got fabulous breasts.
Josie smiled, grabbing one of his hands and placing it on her breast. So how exactly did you get your hands on all this splendor?
Rick chuckled. Well… He grabbed one of her hands and pressed her palm against the front of his jeans. An upstanding and hardworking family bought the property in the 1930s.
Josie moved her hands up and down his erection. Is this a long story?