Grace Anne

chapter 2



Michael didn’t get a damned thing done because of the woman. He didn’t even try and justify that he was thinking about the building; it was her. Grace Anne, she’d said her name was. And it suited her.

He thought of the way she’d fit against his body. The way her mouth felt under his. He reached down and adjusted his cock for what he was sure was the millionth time since yesterday. She had even haunted his dreams. He glared at the report on his desk again. And that was not helping one bit.

He picked it up just as his phone rang. He tossed it down with a snarl and answered with a bark of his name. Thankfully, his secretary was used to his moods of late and didn’t make a comment about it.

“There is a gentleman here to see you, sir, a Mr. Arnold Malone. He said it was about your shoot yesterday. He seems to be under the impression that you are a model.” She made a noise he was going to assume was a cough and didn’t want to think about her laughing at him. “Shall I set him straight for you?”

It took his mind nearly a full ten seconds to remember what the man could want. There had been a photographer there yesterday. Michael had been told several times that he’d been late and that he wasn’t dressed the way they’d requested. Then Grace had come out dressed in that sinful robe and nothing else and he’d completely forgotten. He’d refused to sign off on anything they shoved at him until he’d had his lawyer read it.

“Send him in. And Betsy, hold my calls until I’m finished with him. Also, could you please find Matt and tell him I need to see him, please? As soon as possible.”

He knew she’d do it so he leaned back in his chair and waited. He had a fleeting thought that the man might not have been the one from yesterday, but doubted it. He’d been both surprised and annoyed that they thought he could be…

“Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Cunningham. I was afraid you’d have no time for me and, well, I really wanted to get your permission on these shots we took yesterday. They’re simply amazing. Gracie said that I should trash them…well, we won’t go into what she really said. That girl has a mouth on her, doesn’t she?”

Michael couldn’t have agreed more. The woman had a luscious mouth and one he decided he’d like to get another taste of. Before he could agree or disagree with the man, Matt, his long time friend and personal lawyer, walked in.

“Matthew Gray, I’d like you to meet…I’m sorry, I don’t believe I caught your name.” The man seemed to positively glow with his smile.

“Arnold Malone. So happy to meet you. Oh my, you should join your friend here and do some of the layouts that Gracie has in her catalogs. She would sell…well, more than she does now and she does sell a great deal.”

Michael sat when Matt did. He brought him up to speed on why the man was there and asked him if he’d had a chance to look over the releases from yesterday.

“There are one or two things that I’m wondering about,” Matt said with a smile. “First of all, do you have any of the shots that were taken of my cli—”

“That won’t be necessary. He doesn’t need to see them to—”

“Oh yes,” said Arnold, completely ignoring Michael in his desperate attempt to keep his buddy from viewing the girl dressed the way she’d been. But when Arnold handed him the pictures Matt burst out laughing.

“Christ, Michael, you didn’t tell me she was a beauty. And she seemed to be…enjoying herself all wrapped up around you like that. You don’t seem to be minding it so much either.” Matt looked through several photos before he handed them to Michael with a wink and a smile. “And what, exactly, does the woman sell? I mean, there isn’t really much on her that is…marketable.”

“Oh no. Gracie Anne sells women’s apparel. The kind that catches a man’s eye, so to speak and, from all accounts, they do seem to do that with no problem. Gracie has quite a following, I’m told. I’ve been doing her layouts for more than five years. She uses me for promo shots and sometimes, like with Mr. C here, for remakes. When something isn’t quite what she had in mind, or if the shot is simply just too off.” Arnold handed them another file, this one with photos as well as descriptions, as he continued. “This is the catalogue that goes out in a few months. She is always two seasons ahead so that it can be finished and in the homes or shops before the real season starts. Even though it is only May she is doing her Christmas catalogue now. And in November we’ll shoot the spring one.”

Michael looked at Matt. “Miss Waite owns the building that I want. She refuses to sell or even talk to me about prices. I went there yesterday to see if I could talk some sense into her. I ended up in those pictures instead.”

Matt looked at the catalogue and then up at Michael. “Are you telling me that Gracie Anne Designs owns the Washington building?”

Michael nodded and knew that he was going to regret his next words.

“Holy f*ck, man, no wonder she won’t sell. She doesn’t just own the building, but from all accounts, she lives there too.”

~~~

Grace was sitting at her desk going over colors for the new line when she heard the stairs creak. She smiled. In a few minutes her friend would be stumbling into her room and demanding coffee. She was glad that Carol had come over, she just wasn’t so happy about dealing with the morning after hang over she always had. Grace didn’t drink and Carol thought it was her duty as her friend to drink enough for both of them.

“Sleep well? Or do I need to ask?” She smiled when she glared at her. “Okay, I’m thinking that was a no. There’s coffee brewing for you in the kitchen and there’s a croissant in the box on the counter. By the way, it’s nearly noon. Don’t you have some sort of meeting today to be at?”

“No. I canceled when you called. What, if anything, are you going to do about that yummy man that you bitched about last night? I’ve heard of him. Michael Cunningham is not a man to f*ck with. Maybe f*ck, but certainly not f*ck with.” Carol stretched out on the lounger in her office. “Of course, if you did f*ck him, maybe you’d feel a hell of a lot better.”

“I’m just fine, thank you very much. And I’m not going to let him f*ck me in either sense of the word. Now,” Grace said as she tossed a pencil at Carol, “go eat and drink and leave me to this. I have to figure out which one of these f*cked up pictures to use, come up with a skimpy bathing suit for this princess to wear on her honeymoon, and also figure out what sort of designs I can come up with for the spring catalogue that comes on in fourteen months.”

Gracie had moved to New York right after graduation. She’d been trying to go to California, about as far away as she could from her parents, but she’d gotten on the wrong bus. And without the funds to get her back she’d ended up on the streets.

She’d worked her way from the kid who swept up after the cuttings, saving all the scraps she could, to what she was now. In those early days she’d made her designs in miniatures, sewing together the small pieces of trash to make what she liked. Years later, and yards of fabric too, she was not only making more money than she’d ever dreamed possible, but she owned the building she lived and worked in and she had people working for her.

“Grace, I can’t find my shoes. Do you know where they are?”

She turned to look at her as she set a plate of pancakes on the table.

“I thought I took them off in the living room. Now they seem to have taken off on their own. And do you have anything for a flipping headache?”

She reached into her desk drawer and threw her the bottle of aspirin. She’d worked late every night to get the catalogue finished so that today was supposed to be her day. She was going to get herself a big bed and all the trimmings, curtains, comforter, and also those silk sheets she’d been eyeing for over a year now. They were flaming red and she wanted them badly.

She was in her room dressing when she thought of the catalogue. It wasn’t finished. It was Saturday and she thought she’d be done with all this by now. There was still a shoot yet to take. And she had no idea why she didn’t just let the guy from the guild pose for the shot and be done with it. But she couldn’t. He wasn’t right; no one had been right since that arrogant ass had come into her studio and f*cked it up. She was just coming down the stairs from the upper levels of the five-story building when she heard Carol talking to someone. She detoured to the living room to see who it was and nearly snapped her tongue off when none other than Arrogant Ass was standing there.

“Here’s Gracie now.” Carol turned when she growled. “She doesn’t normally sound like a dog, but she’s been working a lot. Gracie, this is Mr. Cunningham. The one we were talking about last night.” Carol wiggled her brows. Grace was not amused. “Well, I can see my work here is complete. I’ll call you later, Gracie. Nice to meet you, Mr. Cunningham.”

Carol made several gestures behind the man. All of them having to do with sex. Grace wasn’t a prude, but some of them, she thought, bordered on pornographic. She tried to ignore her and focus on the man in front of her. “How did you get up here? There’s a code on the door and I didn’t allow you in.” She glanced at the door to see if it had been broken into. “I want you to get out before I call the police.”

“The guy downstairs told me that you were up here and that, since it was Saturday and I knew that you lived here, he thought you wouldn’t mind me coming up. And I didn’t tell him anything different.” He looked around the room as he stepped further in. “Nice place.”

Her mind raced to try and remember if anyone had said she lived here. She couldn’t remember anyone letting it slip and was sure he’d lie his way in. She wanted to toss him out on his ear, but in all honesty she was a little afraid to get too close to him. It wasn’t that she was afraid he’d hurt her, she was afraid of what she might do to him.

She’d tried hard to forget the way he’d felt against her. And more, to forget how long it had been since anyone had held her, really held her. She didn’t get a lot of time to date and she figured that if one man could make her feel things that…well, she decided to go out with the first man who asked her just to get back into practice.

“I want you to leave, Mr. Cunningham. I have plans today and dealing with you is not on the list. And don’t come back. I’ve told you numerous times I’m not going to—”

“I just want to have a conversation with you. We were…interrupted the other day and I still want you to consider the offer I’m giving you. You’re keeping me from the project I have to finish and I’m trying to be nice.”

She laughed. Before she could say anything a boy walked into her apartment. “Dad, I have to go to the bathroom. And you said you’d be right back.” He looked from his father to her, then back again. “Please? I have to go really bad.”

“Trace, this is Miss Waite. This is her place; you’ll have to clear it with her.” Michael looked at her with a smirk. “If she doesn’t let you use her bathroom, maybe you could go…I don’t know, pee in the alley.”

She wanted not only to smack his face, but to knock that knowing grin off of it. She counted to ten and then smiled at the boy. “Come along, Trace. I’ll take you. Maybe while we’re gone your father will go down to his car and wait for you. I’m sure he’s wasting his time here. In fact, I’m positive that he is.” She led him down the hall and thought about how much he looked like his father.

Michael really was a beautiful man. Dark hair that was just a bit too long to be conservative and then there was the slight curl at the ends. His son, Trace, had the same dark tone, but his was curlier and longer than his dad’s. They were both tall, though Michael was considerably taller at more than six and a half feet. And he was muscled. When he’d pulled her against his body she’d felt every one of them. Christ, she thought as she led the boy back to the door, she really did need to get laid.

She found him sitting on her couch. Drinking her coffee. When she and Trace came down the hall again and walked in he stood, but didn’t apologize for making himself at home. She didn’t know whether to smack him upside the head or…she wanted to smack his head, she decided. She walked to the door and picked up her keys.

“I’m leaving, Mr. Cunningham. And I’d very much like it if you left now so that I can lock up. As I’ve said, I have plenty of things to do today and you’re not—”

“I’m getting a bed today,” Trace said quickly. “My old one broke and I’ve been saving my money to get a big one. I’ve been saving my allowance for over a year. Why don’t you come with us? You and Dad can talk and I can get my bed.”

She looked at Trace. A bed? It seemed much too close to her own shopping today for her to think he hadn’t been told. She thought about Carol. “Did you ask Carol what I was doing today?” She didn’t believe him when he shook his head. It was the smile, she decided. “She didn’t tell you I was bed shopping too?”

“No. Are you?” She nodded before she could stop herself. “Good, then we’ll all go together. It’s Trace’s birthday. He’s nine today and you wouldn’t want to disappoint him on his big day, would you?”

“I thank you, but…I’m sure your son has a day planned just for the two of you.” And if not, she certainly wasn’t joining him. “I have a lot of errands to run as well. Then I have to go to the grocery store and—”

“My cake is at the store too,” Trace told her excitedly. “We’re gonna pick it up and take it to my grandma’s after we’re done. Will you come to my party? You can be my special date. Grandma said every man needs a special date.”

“I don’t…Mr. Cunningham, please tell your son that this isn’t a good idea. You and I…well, we have a history that we…I don’t think this is a good idea.” She wanted to tap her foot while he seemed to think over his answer. When he finally did answer she was sure this was going to be the worst day of her life.

“I think it’s a wonderful idea. We can talk about the building and I can help you both test out beds. I think you should have yours tested well, don’t you?”

Yes, she decided, she was going to smack him. She looked down at Trace who had the most puppy dog look on his face. She knew she was lost. She looked back up at Michael and frowned. “No business. None. And the first time you mention it, I’m gone. It’s my first free Saturday for over six months and I don’t want to talk business. Not that you could talk me into selling anyway, but no business. Is that clear?”

“Crystal. And for the record.” He was suddenly in front of her. “I don’t like being told what to do—in the bedroom or out.” This last part he whispered near her ear. It was everything she could do not to moan. And when he stepped back she nearly reached for him to steady herself. She was going to get laid if it was the last thing she did and it was not going to be this bastard.