Kiss Me Crazy

This book is dedicated to my sisters, Joyce and Merab.

Thank you for instilling in me the love for books.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

To my editor, Melissa Maytnz,

thank you for tweaking the plot and streamlining a manuscript.

To my beta-readers, Julie Barrett and Toni Steiner, you girls are gurus at finding typos and inconsistencies.

I couldn’t have polished this without your keen eyes. Thank you.

To my dearest friend and an extraordinary woman, Katrina Whittaker,

thank you for your wonderful feedback and support. You always take

time from your busy schedule to go through the finished product and give it the stamp of approval. You’re amazing.

To my critique partners, Chicki Brown, Dawn Brown, Teresa Bellow,

Katherine Warwick/Jennifer Laurens, you guys are amazing at removing the junk and being there when the muse goes missing.

We are more than writing partners. We’re a family.

To my husband and my wonderful children,

thank you for your unwavering love and support.

You inspire me in so many ways

Love you, guys.

“I quit! Now kiss me and beg me to stay.”

Kara Michaels glared at the white envelope on her table.

Saying her wishes out loud wouldn’t make them a reality. She stil had to leave the safety of her basement workroom, invade her boss’ inner sanctum upstairs, and hand over the letter with a cordial smile. No marching band. No slapping it on his massive cherry desk or throwing it at his gorgeous face. It wasn’t his fault she had lusted after him for five years, and he only saw her as his trusted, loyal employee. That burden was hers, fair and square.

The thought of looking into Baron Fitzgerald’s starry night blue eyes and teling him she was quitting left her edgy. He would hit the roof, and once he calmed down, turn on the charm. She’d been at the receiving end of that calendar pin-up male’s flirtatious charm once too many times. It was potent, dangerous, and darn near impossible to resist.

Sighing, Kara pushed her nagging thoughts aside, adjusted the glasses on the ridge of her nose, and leaned forward in her chair to contemplate the painting in front of her. Could the scrape near the bottom left corner be fixed without devaluing the piece? She sighed again. Of course it could. The damage was minimal, less than ten percent, just like she preferred. The problem was the enthusiasm she usualy felt restoring such a masterpiece was gone.

Thoughts of Baron and her resignation letter were screwing with her head.

A knock at her workroom door interrupted her musing, then her best friend peeked inside her workroom. Kara waved.

“Renee. What brings you to my humble studio?”

“Don’t you mean dungeon.” Renee closed the door and surveyed the room from the top of the stairs. She grinned when her gaze connected with Kara’s narrowed eyes. “Don’t mean to disrespect your space, Kara, but the covered canvases give it a gloomy look, if you know what I mean.” She started down the stairs, her shoulder-length flipped-up-at-the-tips auburn hair bouncing with each step she took. “Anyway, I thought I’d stop by and see if you want to do lunch.”

Kara stole a glance at her watch. Lunch at ten in the morning? She knew exactly why Ms. Assistant District Attorney was in her office. Kara leaned forward and tried to grab the resignation letter on the sly before Renee saw it. “You didn’t have to come al this way. You could’ve caled and—”

“You wouldn’t have answered, just like you didn’t yesterday and the day before.” Renee wrapped the strap of her designer bag on the coat rack stand at the foot of the staircase and stroled toward Kara. Renee looked stunning, as always, the chic suit hugging her wilowy body, her makeup flawless. She made Kara more aware of her own plain Jane appearance—apron over tan pants and simple black top, pale blonde hair puled back in a ponytail, and no makeup.

Renee stopped beside Kara’s desk and propped a fist on her hip. “When your best friend starts to screen your cals, something’s up.”

“Oh, please. You know how I hate to be interrupted when I’m in the middle of a project. I’ve been working late.” Renee laughed, her eyes going to the letter in Kara’s hand.

“Is that what you cal it now? I’d say you’ve been procrastinating, stressing, and thinking about al possible scenarios that go with offering your resignation to the hunk upstairs.” Kara gave up the pretense of trying to hide the letter.

“Don’t tel me your case load is so smal you had to come downtown to poke fun at me.”

“No, I didn’t, but it’s been three days, Kara. What’s going on?”

Kara tried not to squirm under her friend’s quizzical gaze.

Cal it an insight, sixth sense, or whatever, but Renee could always read her. She claimed Kara wore her feelings in her eyes and would suck as a juror, but this juror reject refused to be analyzed or have her motives questioned.

“Nothing’s going on,” she said. “I just needed to prepare.”

“For what?”

“A de-roofing hurricane,” Kara answered without thinking and realized her mistake right away when Renee lifted a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

“Excuse me? A hurricane in L.A.?”

Kara laughed to cover the gaffe, jumped to her feet, and picked up the Halè painting. “You know what I mean.” She propped it on the easel she used when cleaning or restoring a painting. For a moment, she stood with her back to Renee. She hadn’t meant to openly refer to her boss as a hurricane, yet there was no fitting way to describe antique dealer Baron Fitzgerald when he went after something. He was unstoppable.

About the time she started working for him, he’d let slip his five-year plan to expand the galery by featuring furniture classics of the twentieth century, mid-career artists across the state, and two separate one-man shows every month. It took him three years to accomplish that. He even started an online galery to introduce younger, emerging, and affordable artist to colectors. La Baron Galeria now occupied the first and second floors of the building.

The building itself, he acquired after outbidding a real estate developer. Now he was opening a branch in San Francisco, a partnership between him and Mercedes Benz of San Francisco.

A year ago she’d made the mistake of going to see him on an impulse and learned just how relentless he could be. Her plan at the time was to offer her resignation, just like today. As soon as he’d learned the reason why she wanted to quit, he was on the phone facilitating everything so she got exactly what she wanted, which was to restore older paintings. Turned out he’d been rejecting restoration works involving historic pieces because he thought she wasn’t ready. His assumption had ticked her off. After she read him the riot act, he kissed her.

A zing of excitement shot through Kara, her lips tingling in remembrance. A year later, and she stil remembered every detail of that kiss. She needed to get a life quick. Baron was a total shark when it came to business and to deal with him, one must anticipate his response and have a countermove
.
She was ready this time. Al she needed was to get her butt upstairs.

“Kara?”

She turned to face Renee. Her friend had taken the only available chair, so Kara propped her butt on the edge of the desk.

“Baron won’t like it.”

Renee shrugged. “Too bad. People quit jobs al the time.”

“Not at La Baron Galeria. He’s an amazing boss and pays too wel for anyone to want to quit.”

“Yet you’re quitting.” Renee’s smile was sympathetic, as though she could see through Kara’s BS to the real reason she wanted to quit.

Kara bristled.

“You know why,” she said and wrinkled her nose. “I promised myself I’d go solo by my twenty-eighth birthday. I just turned twenty-nine.” In the last five years, she’d amassed the contacts she’d need once she started her company. She loved restoring works of art, but wanted the added advantage of being her own boss, free to pick and choose projects. She also planned to custom-frame paintings. “It’s time to move on.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.” Kara scowled down at her. “What other reason could I have for leaving?”

“Why don’t you tel me? From my position, you seem to be dragging your feet.”

Renee had a nasty way of treating people like they were on the witness stand. Kara wasn’t in the mood to play her games.

“Don’t try your courtroom tactics on me, Renee Gunter,” Kara said with a bite. “Come out and ask me whatever it is you want to ask, and then hightail it back to your Beverly Hils office with a view, so I can get back to work in my dungeon. And no ten o’clock power lunch excuse either. You aren’t fooling anybody.”

“Ouch. Bitchy today, aren’t you?” Renee leaned closer and placed her elbows on the desk, her eyes becoming serious. “I know you’re nervous about this resignation thing, sweetie, but don’t you think you’re lobbing those salvos at the wrong person? Baron’s the one you should be targeting, not me.”

Kara cocked her head. “Now why would I want to do that?”

“The very reason you didn’t quit last year. You’re attracted to him. Worse, you’re about to leave without doing something about it. The question is whom are you realy pissed off at? You?

Him? Or both of you?”

Heat rushed to Kara’s face. She was angry with herself.

Angry she was attracted to a man who’d never viewed her as anything other than his employee. Even if through some bizarre twist of fate he started panting after her, she was a one man woman while he liked variety.

“Sweetie, if you want him, do something about it already.

Get him out of your system and move on.”

Easy for Renee to say that. She was stunning. Men stood taler and puffed their chests whenever she entered a room. Kara, on the other hand, tended to bring out their protective instincts.

“You know you’re crazy,” she mumbled.

“But right. You’ve thought about it.” Renee grinned and wagged a finger at Kara. “Yes, you have. I can see it in your eyes. I remember the first year you worked for him. I’d walk in here and the two of you would be in the middle of a heated discussion about some artwork or artist. It was like watching two halves of a whole.” Kara took her previous conclusions back. It was Baron’s fault she’d falen for him. He didn’t have to be so charming when she started working for him. Or bring her coffee, visit with her, and discuss her work. Now she only saw him on Fridays for their weekly conference, or when she caught a glimpse of him on the galery floor.

“So?” she said with an indifference she didn’t feel. “We’ve always worked wel together. No matter what his faults are, Baron has an amazing ability to discover talented artists and market them.

And I,” she gave Renee a smug smile, “not to toot my horn, can fix any painting, no matter how old.”

“You know I’m not making this up. You two were close. In fact, I was sure something was going on until I read about his engagement to Valerie what’s-her-face. You took it in stride as usual.”

“Because he’s just a friend
and
a wonderful boss,” Kara retorted, starting to get tired of defending her relationship with her boss. She hadn’t taken anything in stride. It had hurt like someone took a stake to her chest. She was just good at keeping her feelings to herself.

“Is that why when Valerie dumped him, you rushed to his side?”

Kara got up and picked up the tray of cleaning liquids and brushes. She realy didn’t want to discuss Valerie or Baron, but Renee was like a dog with a bone when she latched on a subject.

Kara narrowed her eyes. “That’s what friends do for each other, Renee. Just like I’ve come to your place when a case is not going wel. Quit with the psychoanalysis and go back to work. I know I need to.” She went to place the tray by the Halè painting.

“Kara, you would tel me if you more than like him, wouldn’t you?”

Seriously, when Renee was on her lawyer mode, there was no switching her off. Kara let out a deep sigh and turned around.

The teasing grin was gone from her friend’s face. She actualy thought Kara was in love with Baron? That would be foolish, and she didn’t do foolish. In lust with him, yes. He was gorgeous, sexy, and a maverick—an unbeatable combination. Throw in his wealth, not just from his galery, he came from one of L.A.’s old money families, and you had a man every woman would die to own.

“Would you?” Renee asked again, interrupting her thoughts.

“Yes, I would confess al to you. I admit I liked him a lot in the beginning. He was charming, cocky, and playful. I think every woman who worked for him was a little in love with him. But my interest in him waned. I grew up.” Painfuly and fast, the thought sneaked in on her, but she clammed on it. From the knowing look on her face, Renee wasn’t buying her explanation either. It was true that she had a crush on Baron, but then Valerie came into the picture. Soon after the woman left him, he became distant and driven, changed women often. It was as though he had something to prove, in the boardroom and the bedroom. Occasionaly she caught glimpses of the old Baron when his guard was down; twinkling eyes here, a naughty grin there. Not that it mattered. “He isn’t my type.” She didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud until Renee chuckled.

“Sweetie, that man with his sculptured body, brooding blue eyes, and sinfuly silky voice is every woman’s type.” He’d starred in way too many of her hot, juicy fantasies for Kara to disagree with her friend. “Okay, you win. Yes, I’ve been procrastinating, but you’ve shown me exactly why I’m doing the right thing by quitting. Now go,” she pointed at the door, “scram…

beat it. I’l see you later in the week. We’l have dinner or something.”

“We’re having lunch at Chloe’s. Today.” Renee got up, but she stil had that look in her eyes, the suspicious D.A. expression.

“After you give him the letter.”

“I swear I’l make you pay for this. Read my lips. It wil be handed to him today.” She spaced out her words to drive her message home, namely that she was tired of Renee’s interference.

“I don’t mean to be pushy, but my realtor has the papers for the office space you were interested in. I promised to let her know by the end of the day whether you want it or not.”

“Why didn’t you say so? Sure, I want it. Tel her to start processing the paperwork.” It was a prime property not far from L.A. County Museum of Art, George C. Page Museum, and La Brea Tar Pits. Her goal was to offer her services, once her offices opened its doors, to galeries like La Baron but also to the big guys in Museum Row.