Authors: Liz Matis
“I think I’m falling for him,” she confessed.
“Oh boy, if you’re thinking it, you already are.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.” Victoria brushed a finger through the grime of the window, doodling a heart.
“Don’t be. Be happy.”
“How can I, Neil? It’s not like it can go anywhere.” She erased the heart with a sweep of her hand.
“And why not?”
“My family will disown me.”
“Because of the stripping?”
“And he’s not American, or outrageously wealthy, or has any political connections.
“Love conquers all!”
Leave it Neil to get to the heart of it. “Yeah, but that takes two. Only one of us is in love.”
“How could he not be in love with you? You are fabulous!”
“You’re so sweet to me, Neil.”
“I could be so straight for you—if I wasn’t so gay.”
Victoria laughed. To hear his voice made everything better. If only Neil were straight, they’d be married with three kids by now. Someday he’d make the perfect spouse for some lucky guy. He was a cute, loveable, honest, hardworking man and someday they would both find their respective princes. “When are you coming home?”
“Too soon to tell but when I do I want all the details. And I do mean all!”
Victoria hit end call. She missed Neil and his absence left the show in limbo but she was glad she would have more time to enjoy Russ in the bedroom and give him a chance to fall madly in love with her. She should try and be nice to him on the set, instead of the bitch everyone expected. One thing was for sure: she had to keep her mother far, far away from him.
No, it was useless—it would be far easier for her to fall out of love with Russ than to make him fall for her. However, the obvious first step in recovery—no sex—made her rethink that strategy. Maybe it was just sex and she was confusing the rush of emotions she felt when she was with him with love instead of lust. Lust was healthy. Love was a sickness that needed a cure.
Her cell buzzed again. “Hi, Ava.”
“Did you know Russ quit the show?”
Her heart sank. How could he do that without telling her? Victoria probably scared him away. No, her mother had. The sex on her drafting table was a good-bye fuck. “But shooting starts tomorrow.”
“Not Design Intervention. God, sometimes I think you were born a blonde.”
“He quit stripping?” She looked up quickly and the cabbie arched his eyebrow in the rearview mirror.
Shit.
Would it be too much to ask the universe for the driver to be discreet?
“Yeah, Brady just told me.”
Relief swept through her. “Just? What about last night?”
“Signed Brady on this morning as a client. Already sent him on a commercial audition.”
“So it’s just business?”
“Yeah, got a text from Josh as Brady was ordering us drinks. I took it as a sign.”
“Not that Josh deserves a second chance but you don’t want to sink to his level.”
“Have to work on raising him to mine.”
“Well, he’s got a long climb.” Victoria winced. Who was she to give relationship advice? “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s true.”
“Did Brady say why Russ quit?” Did he do it for her? No, more likely he did it for Design Intervention. Why didn’t he say something last night or when she was arguing with her mother?
“Brady didn’t go into details. You know how men are.”
Yes, she did, but how could Russ not have mentioned it? Sure, there was all the yummy sex. But you think over the omelets he made he could have said ‘Hey, by the way.’ And why did he put himself through her mother’s interrogation? He could’ve easily ended it with a simple update. Instead he just stood there taking it—though all with a smile.
“I just spoke with Neil and he still doesn’t know when he’ll be back.”
“Thank the show biz gods that you and Russ sizzle on and off screen.”
“He followed me home and spent the night,” she whispered into the phone as the cab crossed the Brooklyn Bridge.
“Whoo-hoo! Wait a minute, then why didn’t Russ tell you?”
“Exactly.”
“Interesting. Did you ask him to quit?”
“I would never give an ultimatum.” Not after what she’d been through with her parents. Victoria paused. “I mean, he knew I wasn’t happy about it because of the show and that was before my mother found out.”
“She saw the photo in the paper?”
“And she dropped by the studio and Russ was still there.”
“Oh boy. I would’ve paid to see that. And he still didn’t say anything?”
“No.”
Silence hung in the air and for a moment Victoria thought the call had been dropped but then Ava continued.
“He didn’t quit because of Design Intervention—it’s because of you.”
“I don’t believe that.” But deep down inside she wanted to. Wanted to so badly that a kernel of hope was planted but if she allowed Ava to feed it, it would grow into a field of great expectations. “Besides I don’t want to be the cause of something he’ll regret later.”
Victoria ended the call with Ava with a promise of drinks later to fill her in on the details of last night. She spent the rest of ride over talking to the driver about the show. As she suspected, he was a fan and before she got out she signed an autograph for him happily knowing he loved Design Intervention on its own merits and not because she was famous for being famous.
Climbing out of the cab she couldn’t miss Russ leaning against the stoop of the Hahn Brownstone with his arms folded across his chest, looking like he just stepped out of an Abercrombie and Fitch billboard ad in Times Square. Smoking hot and bigger than life.
A smug looked appeared on his face and he made a show of glancing at an imaginary watch. “You’re late.”
Crap.
“Been hanging with a bad crowd.”
“Are you trying to say I corrupted you?”
“Yes.”
“What a whopper! You don’t need any help from me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I Googled you.”
Victoria’s mouth dropped open but no words came out. She hadn’t Googled herself in awhile and had hoped Design Intervention articles and her charity work would’ve superseded those old stories.
“Don’t act indignant. I asked you why the press hounded you and you wouldn’t tell me so I did some researching on my own.”
“A gentleman wouldn’t look it up never mind bring it up.”
“I think it’s been established that I’m not a gentlemen and well documented that you are no lady.”
She conjured up her socialite snob tone and said, “I really don’t care.” But she did. She cared a lot.
“Don’t try to turn on the ice queen act. I know better.”
Damn freaking Internet was a curse on her life. The past would always be just a click away. Why did she worry about what he thought anyway? He was a recently retired stripper for God’s sake. He was no saint and like he said no gentleman either. They probably deserved each other. Victoria could see the headlines now—Socialite Slut Hooks Up With Stripper. She couldn’t help it, tears sprung to her eyes.
Russ slid his hands up and down her arms. “Hey, hey, don’t … oh jeez I was teasing. You had a bit of fun. So what?”
She smelled his ocean breeze scent over the ripening garbage by the curb. His touch burned not because his grip was too tight but too gentle. She choked back a sob.
“Please no tears. I prefer the ice queen to that.”
Victoria laughed and brushed away a tear just as Russ’s hand lifted to do it.
The door swung open and they both looked up. Mrs. Hahn stood at the door. “Well, are you coming in?”
Russ dropped his hands and they headed up the stairs.
“We are so excited. Oh, who this?” Mrs. Hahn said.
“This is Russ Rowland. He’ll be filling in for Neil. Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, honey.” Mrs. Hahn winked and smiled as if they were girlfriends sharing a naughty thought together.
Victoria was glad the homeowners were not allowed on set. This one, a desperate housewife if she ever saw one, would be hanging on Russ the whole time. “We’ll only need a few minutes to review the room.”
“Take your time. I’ll mix us up some Margaritas.”
“Thank you,” said Russ before Victoria could blurt out, ‘Hands off. He’s mine.’ Russ then added, “We can’t stay.”
Victoria and Russ let themselves into the basement room. She pulled the sketches out of her portfolio case. They probably could’ve have done this back at her studio but she liked to feel the space out before the makeover began. Russ examined the sketches, making a suggestion in the placement of furniture and, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, he was right and she agreed to the changes. He seemed pleased that she took his advice. Before they left, Mrs. Hahn asked if she could get then anything but again Russ politely declined.
As they headed down the outside steps Victoria said, “I’m surprised she didn’t offer you a bed for the night.”
“Jealous?”
“Ah!” Victoria looked out for a cab to hail.
“Are you sure? I’ve recently discovered the feeling myself.”
Normally she’d kick jealous boyfriends to the curb but the thought of Russ experiencing irrational emotions appealed to her. “Don’t be. They didn’t mean anything.”
“And I do?”
Answering him truthfully would give him power. She didn’t know where she stood or how he felt about her. Jealousy did not equal love, she knew that much. She wanted to know why he quit the revue and why he still hadn’t informed her of his decision. A cab started down the street and she put up her fingers to whistle. When she feared he would drive right by she began to frantically waving her arms like a woman on a deserted island spotting a rescue plane.
The taxi pulled over. “I’m meeting Ava for drinks. You can come by around 11:00.”
“If that’s convenient for you.” He opened the door.
Victoria put her hand up so he wouldn’t follow her in. “We shouldn’t be seen together.”
“That’s doesn’t make sense; we’re both going back into the city.”
Victoria bit her lip. It was silly, they worked together after all and it was technically still working hours. “Guess it’s okay.”
Russ made a face. “I wasn’t asking.”
“Why are you acting so weird?”
“You basically ordered me to your bedroom at 11:00.”
That’s exactly what she had done but it was a perfect segue for her to ask,” Well, don’t you have to dance tonight?”
He looked away before answering, “I quit.”
She tried to lean into his field of vision. “Why?” she pressed.
“After all the crap you gave me about the show and the bad publicity, you’re asking why?”
“Oh, for the show?” she hated the disappointment in her voice.
Still keeping his gaze averted he said, “What? You think I quit for you?”
“No. Why would I think that?” Victoria’s ego was a bit bruised. Okay, a lot bruised. Thank God she didn’t answer the question he posed to her about him mattering to her.
“Coming or going?” interrupted the cab driver in his thick Brooklyn accent. “I don’t got all day.”
Chapter 24
“C
oming.” Russ executed a mock bow, sweeping his hand in a motion for Victoria to get in. Where did she get the notion he’d quit for her? Because it was true—not that he’d confess it to her. Russ barely admitted it to himself but the truth was her opinion of him mattered more than it should. As she brushed by him his dick came to attention. It didn’t take much when it came to her. A simple look. An accidental touch. Or was this accidental? She knew exactly what she was doing—trying to distract him from his still unanswered question. He slid in next to her as she smoothly gave the driver the address to her apartment. Her tears were probably just a performance like the ice queen act. And he fell for the waterworks like a sucker. The woman could be a star on Broadway if she wanted to. Victoria was a natural.
“Where do you want to be dropped off?”
He could take the subway home from her place, even hoof it but he knew that wouldn’t work for Victoria’s proper life. He nearly scoffed. Where was all that propriety with those men? “I’ll tell him after you get out.”
She arched her eyebrow but didn’t press him for information, though he could tell by the way she bit her lip she wanted to. Good, let her wonder what he’d be doing while she was out with Ava having men buy them drinks. You would think she would’ve invited him along once she found out that he’d quit dancing—just out of common courtesy—though he doubted if she understood the concept.
The image of her lying on the bar with that wanker licking a shot off her belly wouldn’t leave his head. He’d never been jealous a day in his life, never mind being jealous of something that happened in the past long before he knew Victoria. Long before he even thought about coming to the States.
They made annoying small talk on the drive back. He should be happy she didn’t want to chatter on about where they stood or how she felt—or worse, how he felt. Russ hated those conversations. Yet, there was so much between them to discover and to sort out.