I blew out air to release the rage that was consuming me.
“Don’t be mad at me. It wasn’t my fault. I’ll make it up for it at dinner.”
My lips snarled. “There’s not going to be any dinner.”
He fisted a clump of my loose tangled hair and tugged at it hard. “Hey, remember what you said. A deal is a deal.”
My words. Another life lesson from Madame Paulette. I scoffed at him. “Do you have a place in mind?”
“Raoul’s. It’s very expensive.”
I scrunched my face. “Fine. Meet me downstairs at the entrance of the hotel at eight.”
“Perfect.”
Damn it. I was stuck with dinner. And the possibility that this challenging man who knew how to make me fall apart was going to be in my life in more ways than one.
Chapter 9
I spent the rest of the day running around the city doing store checks. We had retail outlets in every borough—except Brooklyn. Borofskyland. It irritated Victor that I refused to open a Brooklyn store; it was a missed opportunity, especially since Brooklyn, now a chic place to live, catered to affluent Gen X’ers. The money-hungry opportunist didn’t understand it was one place I could never go back to. It held a terrible memory for me and it was too risky. Boris was still living there according to Intelius.com, and I was sure that he’d recognize me immediately.
Thank goodness, I had Nigel to get me around because the city traffic was impossible. As he expertly navigated it, transporting me from one store to the next, I couldn’t stop thinking about Jaime Zander. He was unraveling me, bringing me to sensual and emotional places I’d never been before. And I was letting him. I hardly knew this man. It had to stop, especially if we ended up working together. The last thing I needed in either my personal or professional life was a fucked up relationship. I made an executive decision. Over dinner, I was going to bring this all to an end. Just keep everything to business.
The store visits were a welcome distraction. For the most part, the city retail outlets were all in good order. I enjoyed spending time with the general managers as well as their sales assistants. It was also good to observe first-hand the shopping patterns of customers. I even chatted with some and got some valuable consumer insights. All were very excited about the possibility of Gloria’s Secret sex toys.
I caught up with Kevin and Vivien at the Fifth Avenue flagship store in the mid afternoon. We were having a special in-store event there—a fashion show. A scaled-down version of our big extravaganza. There was going to be coverage by one of the local cable channels as well as by numerous bloggers. Gift cards and coupons were being offered to shoppers in attendance. Kevin, as always, was handling everything beautifully. Vivien, however, wore a resentful expression. She had actually e-mailed me that she wanted to go shopping while she was in Manhattan. I had to remind her this was a business trip, not a vacation.
The show went off without a hitch and customers loved it. Sales went through the roof another day in a row. Shortly afterward, Kevin strolled up to me. “Glorious, want to go out for dinner tonight?”
I twitched a regretful smile. “Can’t. I’m having dinner with Jaime Zander.”
“Oh,” chimed in nearby Vivien. “Business or pleasure?” The sarcasm in her voice was hard to miss.
“Strictly business.” Though my tone was nonchalant, Vivien eyed me suspiciously.
“Did you know Jaime Zander is one of Manhattan’s most eligible billionaires?” she asked.
I digested this new piece of information. While I’d never seen his name on the Forbes 400 List, I guess if he owned the Walden Hotel and could afford to spend two million dollars on Rihanna’s leather undergarments, he must mega-rich. Though ZAP! was quite a successful ad agency, it didn’t seem enough to make Jaime so wealthy. I wondered—how did he make his fortune? Maybe at dinner, I’d find out.
I checked my watch; it was almost six. “I’m going to split. I need to get ready for my dinner.”
The thought of having dinner with Jaime Zander made my whole body quiver with anticipation and apprehension. I was anxious about seeing him. Would I be able to keep my emotions—and hormones—in check and keep things purely professional? What concerned me as much was that I was looking forward to seeing him.
The twinkle in Kevin’s hazel eyes clued me in that he knew there was something going on between Jaime and me. After all these years together through thick and thin, he could read me like a book. Vivien’s eyes, however, were shooting daggers my way.
“Where are you going for dinner?” she asked, her tone snarky.
“Raoul’s.” I immediately regretted that I told her.