Now she’d wear the dress again for old time’s sake, because tonight she wanted Dominic Blackmoore’s attention. She wanted to look sharp, classy, and sexy because these were people that looked good all the time and she had to impress them to get this job. Also, because she wanted Dominic to look at her that same hungry way he had yesterday but know he’d never touch her.
The cocktail dress had one quarter-cut sleeve on one arm and left the other arm bare so she slid on a gold jingly bracelet on her wrist. From under her right arm the dress swooped up to her sleeved shoulder revealing her neckline and a decent portion of her back. It was sexy enough to get attention but not inappropriate. The cut of the dress looked elegant. What was really going to knock her look out of the park—aside from her lovely updo of curls and her smoky makeup—were her legs and shoes.
At Beth’s cajoling she pulled on black nylon stockings with black lace edging. However, when the stockings started rolling down her not-so-slim thighs like curlicues Felicity finally relented at Beth’s insistence and put on the matching garter belt to keep them up. Just feeling the soft, scratchy feeling of the nylons on her smooth legs with the straps of the garter holding them up made her feel naughtier—and more than ready to square off against Dominic Blackmoore.
Do your worst, she thought with a grin.
It wasn’t like she didn’t wear her fair share of sexy clothes. She loved sexy underwear and had the entire drawer full of thongs, G-strings, hip huggers, full bottom panties in lace, satin, a variety of colors and textures with straps, bows, and flowers to prove it. But she never wore such things to a job interview or even for herself.
Tonight that would change.
Tonight she was getting this job no matter what.
Felicity checked her reflection one last time. She looked perfect. Sexy, professional, but slightly more on the sexy side. Her portfolio was on the kitchen table ready to go, and her shoes were polished black and shiny.
Beth whistled a catcall. “Girl, you look fine. That man won’t know what hit him.”
“I hope so.” How could he just give her the cold shoulder after the kiss they’d shared?
“So what’s this really about: getting the job or getting payback?”
Felicity fidgeted with her dress then glanced at the clock. “Um...both I guess.” Beth arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow at her and Felicity ducked out of the bedroom. Hugo trotted behind her, hot on her heels as she headed toward the kitchen.
Beth leaned against her stove, arms crossed. “Well if he’s anything like his brother the man must be made to please a woman.”
Felicity blinked. “I haven’t met any of his brothers. I know he has a few. Which one are you talking about?”
Beth’s pupils dilated and her tongue darted across her bottom lip. “Which one? That’d be Lucas Blackmoore as in LBB—the Lucas Blackmoore Band. He’s only all the rage everywhere.” Beth’s eyes grew unfocused, her voice soft. “He has the voice of an angel. I know that sounds stupid but, damn, his voice is a perfect mixture of husky, smooth-rolling tenor that craves your attention. It’s the kind of voice you can’t turn away from. And his songs? He writes it all himself, the lyrics, the music, all of it. This isn’t some every day, run of the mill musician. Lucas Blackmoore is an artist who treats his music like it’s his life’s passion.”
Felicity stared at her friend with wide eyes and a new appreciation for someone’s music she’d never heard before. Seeing Felicity’s gaze, Beth narrowed her eyes and cocked her head to the side.
“You haven’t heard of him?” She asked it with disbelief as if she was asking Felicity how she could never have heard of the freaking sun.
“Um...well you know me. I’m not the biggest music person.” Felicity cringed as Beth’s eyes bugged. “Hey, you know this about me, and when I do listen to music I prefer the kind without words. Instrumental, classical stuff, you know?”
Beth was shaking her head in what could only be described as massive disappointment. “Why am I your friend, and how come I never knew this about you? I mean seriously, he’s all I ever listen to. All I’ve listened to since Iraq and you’re going to work for his family!”
“I’ll tell you what after I get this job, if I run into Lucas Blackmoore, I’ll get him to sign something for you, okay?”
Beth’s eyes flashed with fear. “No! That’s not necessary, really.”
Felicity frowned. “Why not? You have something against signatures?” She laughed at her own joke but Beth only shook her head.
“No, really don’t bother him. Um,” she ran a hand down her hair then rubbed her hands down her pants.
“Wait are you telling me that you like LBB so much that even the thought that I could get a signature for you is too much to bear?”
Beth grimaced. “Well when you say it like that I sound like a pussy but yes, totally. I don’t want him to know I exist.”
Felicity laughed at her friend’s ridiculous thoughts. “That must mean you’ve had some pretty heavy thoughts about him.”
Beth’s beautiful dark eyes rounded into saucers. “Girl, you have no idea. The man’s voice occupies me nearly everywhere I go. He sings me to sleep. His voice wakes me up in the morning. I listen to him while I drive to work and while I shower. I mean all the time. So I guess you could say I’ve had ‘heavy’ thoughts about him.”
Felicity whistled low under her breath. “Sounds like a serious crush to me.”
“More like hardcore in love.”
Beth said it jokingly but neither of them missed the longing ringing in those words. Felicity didn’t taunt her friend or make fun of her for having a fictional crush on an (apparently) very famous musician.
Instead, she smiled and made a promise. “I’ll get you his signature.”
Beth let out a soft dramatic sigh then pretended to fan herself.
They both burst out laughing and it was then that Felicity’s eyes fell to the clock Beth had been standing in front of.
“Damn! I’m going to be late.”
Shit, shit, shit, shit!
“Oh honey, I’m so sorry. It’s my fault for carrying on,” Beth said. Then she put on her game face and even her voice hardened. “Okay, grab your shawl and purse, I’ll get your portfolio and meet you out front.”
Felicity raced across her house throwing on her black lacey shawl—really the thing was more decorative than warm, and then snatched up her purse. In less than two minutes she had the house locked up, her car started, and was waving goodbye to Beth.
“Knock ‘em dead,” Beth yelled.
“I plan on it!”
Felicity drove to the most important interview of her life for the second time—the one that could give her a name in the design business—and she was only twenty minutes late.
Chapter 5
In the grand scheme of life twenty minutes was not a significant portion of time.
Felicity knew this.
However, apparently Ian, the Blackmoore’s executive butler (he actually called himself that) thought twenty minutes was akin to two days. For when she pulled up in her dump of car, he’d not withheld his lip curl of disgust nor did he keep from scolding her. Yes, he publically scolded her even as he led her into the house.
“A young woman like you would do well to realize the significance of being interviewed by Lady Blackmoore herself. In fact, if you were smart you would have come prepared and early so as not to make those interviewing you wait for you as if you are important to them when I assure you you...are...not. Now if you’ll follow me.”