That Kind of Girl (Fillmore & Greenwich Book 2) (17 page)

You don't know what I need
, he told Giselle.

Actually, I know better than you, Remy.

He shook his head.

Tate's gaze went steely. "Let me put this into perspective for you. George is having a grand reopening of the business at the end of the month. There's a lot riding on it."

"I know that." He wasn't a complete moron.

"Her happiness is important, and she's been unhappy lately." Tate's eyes narrowed. "I don't want her to be unhappy anymore."

"I don't either." He blinked, surprised that he really meant it.

"That's why you offered to fix the mural?"

Well, mostly he wanted to tango with her. "Have you seen the mural? That can't possibly make her happy."

Tate studied him a long while before nodding. He pulled out his wallet and dropped a bill on the table. "I don't think you will, but I'm going to say it anyway. Don't let her down."

The irony that Georgina's parents were repeatedly trying to push her toward him while her friends were trying to scare him off didn't escape him.

Remy was going to let the man walk away, but something made him call out, "Wait."

Stopping, Tate turned around.

He cleared his throat. "There's a problem with Georgina's furniture."

The man frowned, his gaze sharp. Then he nodded. "I'm on it."

Something in Remy eased. As he got up, he reassured himself that it was natural to care about any person's happiness.

When he arrived at her shop, he looked at it with new eyes. There wasn't a bit of Georgina here—not the Georgina he'd come to know.

Except the Vincent Black Shadow standing in the corner.
That
was sexy and aggressive, like she was.

A string of loud cursing came from the general direction of the office. He followed it, ducking behind the doorway as a pen came flying toward him. "I haven't stepped on your toes yet," he pointed out.

She glared at him. "Serves you right for lurking."

"What's got your panties in a wad?" he asked entering.

"I can't find a replacement part for my motorcycle." She tapped her fingers on a pad of paper that had a doodle on it. "I've got it running, but it needs body work and I can't find what I need."

He walked over and picked up the pad, unable to resist checking out what she was drawing. It was a drawing done in deft lines, sure and strong, of the Black Shadow, only with curvier lines and a sleeker silhouette. "What's this?"

"Nothing." She tried to grab the pad.

He held it out of her reach. "Tell me what this is."

"My thoughts, okay?" she barked. "I was just thinking while I was on the phone."

"I like it." He waved the pad. "This keeps the integrity of the bike but adds a modern sensibility to it."

She made a face. "Poppy would call it sacrilege."

"Your Poppy isn't here."

Who's the hypocrite here?
Giselle whispered in his mind.

He silently told her to keep quiet.

Giselle's indignation was loud and clear.
It's the truth.

Georgina wasn't aware of his internal dialogue. She bit her lip, her hip cocked, obviously thinking. "Do you really think it wouldn't destroy the bike?"

"You'd be improving it." The urge to draw her on the bike came over him strong and relentless. His fingers twitched with the need to show her crouched over it, her hair streaming in the wind. He dropped the pad on the desk and stepped back. He hadn't felt such desperation to draw in so long. "See you tonight."

"That's all you came in here for?" she called after him.

Not hardly
, Giselle said in his ear.

He waved and strode to his bike. He made it to the loft in minutes, darting through San Francisco traffic. He let himself in and looked for a pen and paper to sketch out what was in his mind.

He couldn't find a pen, but the crayons were on the dining room table.

Sitting down, he poured all the colors onto the table. He tore a page out of the coloring book and turned it over to the blank side. Picking the brightest red, he began with her hair.

Dana squeezed her eyes shut. She wasn't going to think about the people streaming out of the class, speaking in loud whispers, or the sound of mats rolling up. She was just going to lay there in Corpse Pose.

If only she could stay here forever.

"Hey."

Her eyes popped open and she saw Aaron leaning over her. "What are you doing?" he asked, his upside-down face perplexed.

"I'm channeling my inner calm." She rolled up to sitting. "What are you doing?"

"Making sure you're still breathing." He crouched down next to her, his elbows on his knees. "I've been meaning to talk to you about that social media stuff you've been doing. That ad you did brought in new customers already."

She shrugged, which was kind of awkward from her prone position on the floor. "That was the point, right?"

"I just wanted to say thank you."

His praise warmed her, more than his good looks ever had. "I'm here. I might as well be useful."

"Well, I appreciate it. Thanks, Dana." Smiling, he stood. "See you out front."

"I can't just stay in here all day?"

He laughed as he headed out of the studio.

"I wasn't kidding," she mumbled, gathering her things and putting them away. She glanced at the clock, knowing she didn't have that much time to mess around; she was meeting Kevin in an hour.

He'd wanted to meet at his offices, but she couldn't bear that, so they were meeting at the Specialty's that was around the corner. She figured she'd reward herself with a dried-fruit cookie after this ordeal.

She winced as she stepped into the shower. She didn't know it was going to be an ordeal.

But it probably would be
, she thought as she lathered her body.

She came out into the locker room, wrapped in a towel, and was surprised to find Beth changing into yoga clothes. "You're here at a strange time of day for you," she said as she walked over to the cubby that stored her things.

Beth looked up, startled, shielding herself with the shirt she just took off. "What are you doing here?"

"Planning a bank robbery." She arched her brow as she slipped on underwear. "Isn't that why you're here?"

"Actually, I'm here because—" She glanced at the door and then mumbled the rest of her sentence.

"What?" Dana rubbed her hair with a towel and then shook the damp strands free. "I didn't hear you."

Beth leaned forward and whispered. "I have a private lesson with Aaron."

Dana grinned. "What sort of private lesson?"

"Not like that!" Beth exclaimed, her cheeks flushing.

"You're the one acting weird." She shrugged as she put on her dress. It wasn't a fancy dress, but it also wasn't dumpy. It was business attractive. She wanted to look competent without looking like she was trying.

"Do you have an interview?"

"No, I'm suiting up for the lion's den." She looked at her hair in the mirror. "Up or down?"

"It's nice down," Beth answered.

Yeah, but Kevin had always liked it down, too. "I don't want to look nice. I want to look like I could bite off a piece of your heart and then spit it out."

"Maybe you should wear leather and spikes instead."

"I didn't have any." This would have to do. She went to the mirror to put on enough makeup to look awesome without seeming like she'd put a lot of effort into it.

Beth was changing into yoga clothes, silent except for the muffled sound of Lycra compressing her flesh. "Well, whatever you're doing, I hope it goes okay. You look nice."

She met Beth's eyes in the mirror and smiled. "That actually means a lot. I'm kind of nervous about this meeting."

"Does it have to do with your bonus?"

And an ass she swore she'd never see again. "I took your advice and am meeting with a lawyer."

Beth nodded. "My daddy always told me if you want something, you just decide to do it. If you want the bonus, do whatever you need to do to earn it back."

"Okay." She hoped she sounded more confident than she felt.

Beth patted her shoulder. "Your tenacity is admirable. I think you're going to get what you want."

It was all the things she didn't want that she was worried about.

* * *

She walked into the Specialty's early. Her plan: find a table, get some coffee and adjust to the environment before Kevin arrived. She got in line and waited her turn.

"Hey, there. Come here often?" a familiar voice said way too close to her ear.

Making a face, she batted Kevin away. She'd always hated when he snuck up on her. "Don't make me regret calling you."

He flashed his usual charismatic smile. "You'd never regret me."

"Wanna bet?" she muttered under her breath.

"What?" He leaned in to hear her.

"Nothing." She scowled. "Thanks for meeting me."

The kid behind the counter said "Next" and Kevin waved her forward. "Order what you want. It's on me."

She would have told him no—his kindness always came with a price tag—but she needed his help, so she sucked up her feelings and ordered coffee.

He added another coffee, a slice of spice cake, and an oatmeal cookie. The kid rang them up and gave them what they'd ordered. She started to move toward a round table nearby the window, but with shining down Kevin nudged her arm with his elbow.

"That table back there."

She looked at where he nodded. It was in the back corner, dark and next to the bathroom door. "Really?"

But he was already striding toward it.

Sighing, she followed behind and grudgingly sat in the seat he pulled out. She sipped her coffee even though it was scalding.

"Here you go, sweetie." He set the oatmeal cookie in front of her. "I know how much you love them."

She hated oatmeal. "Thanks. So I have a legal question."

"About our divorce?"

"No." She wrinkled her nose. "Why would I have a question about our divorce? That was over and done with a year and a half ago."

He shrugged, looking away. "I just figured."

Aw hell—he still wanted her back. He hadn't called in a long time. She thought he'd moved on and found someone new to boss around.

She shrank in her seat, the hot coffee cup burning her palms. "I shouldn't have called you. This was a mistake. Sorry I wasted your time."

As she stood up, he stopped her with a hand on her arm. "Let me be the judge of that. Tell me why you called, Dana."

"I don't—"

"Set your pride aside and just tell me," he insisted.

Fine.
She took a deep breath. "The company I worked for told me I'd be eligible for a large stock bonus if I reached a certain performance level. But they fired me right before I officially reached it."

Kevin took out the pen and small pad of paper he always carried. "Why did they fire you?"