The Fountain of Infinite Wishes (Dare River Book 5) (18 page)

All Shelby saw was a sea of blue sequins. She gaped at the woman. “You’re wearing that?”

“Yeah,” Charlie said with a feral smile. “The guy I’m pumping for information is a predictable pig. I even have matching shoes,” Charlie added with a twinkle in her eye. “I’ll be sure to let you see me as a Southern beauty queen before I leave. Vander likes to go all
King Lear
on me. He always says an over-feminine version of me makes him want to gouge his eyes out.”

“That’s terrible!”

“That’s our relationship,” she said with an easy smile, making Shelby wonder what it was like to be Vander’s friend like that. Clearly, they had a rapport. One she didn’t understand, perhaps, but she liked that they could work together and horse around like she would with Gail.

“Every time I dress this way—even if it’s for work—I want to send it to my alumni network as an FU,” Charlie continued, looking down in her lap. “Like I can be pretty too. And petty.”

Shelby thought she was likely more hurt than petty. “You should do it,” she said, making the woman immediately raise her head and look at her. “They were wrong to make fun of you. I admire your toughness. Do you ever get worried about the men you have to face getting too fresh?”

“If they do, I knee them in the balls,” she answered, cracking her knuckles. “But I don’t put myself in that position. Vander runs a clean shop. We don’t flirt with danger.”

Shelby was happy to hear that. “Good luck.”

“You too,” Charlie said. “I can’t wait to see the pictures of you and Vander.” This time her smile was genuine.

When Shelby appeared in his doorway, he had his back to her, typing on his laptop.

“You’re late,” he said. “Did you plan it just to try and rile me up?”

She wheeled her luggage in and stopped by the set of chairs in front of his desk, wishing he would turn around. “No, I was talking with Charlie.”

“Were you now?” He swiveled in his chair to face her. “Holy shit! You brought a suitcase?”

His response elicited her most flirtatious grin. “And makeup and hair accessory bags too.”

Standing, he said, “I only need a few pictures, Shelby.”

“And you need to understand, I don’t let this—” she released the suitcase and made an up and down gesture, “—be captured on a mere whim. Besides, I am not going to let my daddy or anyone associated with him see me looking less than fabulous. It’s the principle of the matter.”
 

“Oh, for fu— sake, Shelby,” Vander said, putting his hands on his hips.

“I also expect dinner since I look more beautiful when I’m not starving,” she said, reaching into her purse and handing him the piece of paper she kept there. “This is a list of acceptable places.”

His mouth dropped open before he snapped it shut. “You’re kidding.”

“No, honey,” she drawled, wishing she could cross over to him and kiss him right on his gaping mouth. “I’m not.”

He scanned the list. “Jared’s does take-out?” he asked.

She gave him a syrupy smile. “They do for me.”

“Hmm. I’ll bet.” He stared at her, and his aquamarine eyes glinted with pure mischief. “Do they do take-out cocktails too?”

Her grin widened. “We call them sippy cups in my world.”

“Of course you do,” he said, and then his gaze shot to the door. “Dammit, Charlie! What did I tell you about prancing around like that in my presence? Do you want me to go blind?”

Shelby turned to see the P.I. biting her lip to contain her laughter. The woman before her was completely transformed. Her hair was twisted up in a side ponytail, her sequin dress displaying a hint of curve. The addition of lip gloss and mascara had done wonders to soften her face.
 

“Yes, Vander, I do. I live for the day you will have to rely on me to find your way. Have fun, you two.”

“You look beautiful, Charlie,” Shelby found herself saying.

The woman waved a hand out dismissively. “Nah, but I should be pretty enough for my mark.”
 

“Check in with me later, beautiful,” Vander drawled.

Charlie stuck her tongue out and left with an exaggerated swag of her hips, making Shelby laugh.
 

“That was nice of you,” Vander said when they were alone.

“What?”

“She has…image issues. Not self-esteem exactly.” He shook his head. “Never mind. I didn’t say anything.”

But he had, and his regard for his friend and colleague touched her deeply. “I didn’t know if I liked her before,” Shelby said, “but I do now.”

He pressed his fingers to his forehead like she was giving him a headache. “I’m sure she’ll be overjoyed to hear that. Let’s re-focus.”

Shelby walked to the phone sitting on the edge of his desk. “Shall we ring for dinner?”

“Let me get my silver bell,” he quipped. “You really insist on making a production of this?”

“I do,” she said, picking up the phone.
 

He growled low in his throat. “Fine then. But
I
insist we head somewhere more comfortable.”

“Where do you live?” she asked, giving him a dramatic look. “And does it have good lighting?”

His eyes narrowed immediately. “No.”

“Oh, come on, Vander,” she said, pouring charm into her voice. “We’ve already established I won’t sleep with you, and you won’t sleep with me because I’m your client. Don’t you trust yourself?”

He stared at her. “Are you trying to piss me off?”

“Would little ol’ me do something like that?” she asked, fighting a smile. Oh, how she loved teasing him.

“With interest,” he growled, grabbing her bag. “All right. My house. Will you follow me, or do you plan on having me drive you back here once we’re finished?”

“Whatever you prefer,” she said, buffing her nails like she didn’t care a whit. “But it seems like a waste of gas to take two cars if you ask me.”

He muttered something under his breath, then, speaking louder, said, “Let’s go, Shelby.”

“I’d recommend we order from Jared’s now so we won’t have to wait too much longer,” she said, tapping the phone’s display. “I’m getting peckish.”

“Peckish,” he uttered, rolling the word around his tongue. “We wouldn’t want that, would we? Do you have a menu? Or is this a magical line where I can ask for anything, and they’ll deliver it?”

“You can bring up the menu online,” she said. “I personally know it by heart. That is, except for the specials.”

The look he gave her shot a bolt of fire through her. “Order me a steak, Shelby. Medium rare. Pick any sides you’d like to share. I’ll close up the office while you’re on the phone.”

“Your address?” she asked.

He gave it to her with a wry twist to his gorgeous mouth. She felt an all-body shiver as she watched him walk out. In some ways, she felt freer to flirt with him than she might have if they were dating. He couldn’t push the envelope. Neither could she. It was almost the perfect arrangement.

By the time he returned, she’d called in their order. He grabbed his briefcase and rolled her carry-on out to the elevator.

“We’re skirting the line here,” he muttered.

“You worry too much,” she said, even though she knew he was right.

Something about him made it impossible to follow the straight and narrow. Out of all her sisters, she’d always been the most daring.
 

Being with Vander was like playing in her own personal amusement park.

“Yet I seem to recall you saying we should forget about the kiss you gave me,” he said as the doors closed to take them to the garage.

She casually leaned back against the wall and raised her brow. “We’re eating and taking photos. Kissing is not on the menu.”

While he didn’t take his eyes off her face, they blazed with so much heat, she felt like he’d looked her up and down.

He didn’t say anything as they walked to his car. She wasn’t surprised to discover he drove a metallic gray Ferrari 360 with black leather seats.
 

“It suits you,” she said when he opened her door.

“I like it,” he said, waiting until she was settled to close it behind her.

They drove in silence, broken only by the sound of his rap playlist, which was playing at a soft volume. He stuck to the speed limit, which rather surprised her. She wondered whether he was doing that for her benefit.

Since he’d given her the address, she’d known they were heading to a swanky part of downtown. Vander pulled into the underground garage of a building of luxury loft apartments.

“I didn’t see you as a house and picket fence kind of guy,” she commented as he let her into his place.

The two-story loft had brick outer walls and tan interior ones. The staircase was a shiny chrome with black metal exposed steps. The open floor plan on the main level was composed of a large den with chocolate-colored leather furniture, a gourmet kitchen with a built-in eating space, a swanky dining room with a cast-iron chandelier, and what appeared to be an office judging from the desk and file cabinets facing the window that boasted a lovely view of a park.

Her gaze fastened onto a silver-framed photo sitting on the mantel above a hardwood fireplace. A man was throwing a young boy up in the air, and she wondered if it was Vander and his daddy. How would he react if she asked him? She bit her lip. It didn’t seem like the right time.

“I detest yard work of any kind,” he said, locking the door once they were inside. “Make yourself at home. What can I get you to drink?”

“I ordered us some cocktails,” she told him, taking in the modern paintings hanging on the walls. He liked art. Somehow that surprised her. But he had good taste, something she already knew based on how he dressed and decorated his office.

“You weren’t joking about that?” he asked her, setting his briefcase on the long white marble kitchen counter.

“I never joke about cocktails,” she quipped.

He pulled out two sparkling waters from the Sub-Zero and poured them into water glasses. Then he pulled out his phone and crooked his finger at her.

“Let’s take a picture of me in this suit before I change.”

“Isn’t that a little formal for Toby?” she asked.

“He has a professional job now that he’s left the Army,” he immediately responded. “Sales. Plus, you look like Imelda Marcos in that outfit.”

She huffed a little, but made sure to get her fill of looking at him. He looked downright handsome in the gray Italian suit paired with a silk blue-gray tie and white shirt. From her perspective, he could keep it on for the rest of his life.

As she stepped close to him, he loosened his tie, brushing her arm and sending shivers down her body. Good heavens.

“Come here,” he said, holding up the camera phone and sliding an arm around her.
 

Her unmentionables were going to start sweating if he kept putting his hands on her.

“Smile,” he encouraged. “Smile like you mean it, Shelby.”

All she wanted to do was stick her tongue out at him, but that would be both unladylike and childish.

He took a few pictures of them, and then she felt his fingers tickle her waist. She jolted, and he laughed.

“You’re too stiff,” he said. “We’re supposed to be in love.”

She turned her head and gave him her fish eye. “If you tickle me again, you’d better be prepared to meet your maker.”

His lips twitched, but he didn’t say anything. Only held the camera up and took some more pictures of them.

“I think we have enough in these outfits,” she said.

He was smiling as he turned and laid his phone on the counter. Then he started taking off his tie. Followed by his jacket. When he started to open a few buttons of his white shirt, she gasped out, “What do you think you are doing?”
 

“Giving us another outfit to work with,” he said, looking amused. “What did you think I was doing?”

Her dirty mind had thought he was getting undressed, and part of her had wanted to cheer things like
take it off; don’t keep me waiting; strut it.

“I couldn’t rightly say,” she said instead, walking over to her carry-on and pulling out one of the two light fall coats she’d brought.

“You brought all that?” he asked, peering into the suitcase. “Is that a white tank top? Oh, I’m liking this better and better.”

She gently slapped him on the arm. “Don’t look at my clothes yet! It’s supposed to be a surprise.” To show her daddy she was versatile, she’d brought several options, verging from formal outfits like the one she had on to simple looks like jeans and a tank top—something she’d wear at the lake.

“Holy shit! You brought a change of underwear too?” His mouth transformed into a crooked smile.

She snapped the top of her suitcase shut.
“Some
outfits require different underthings.”

That infernal mouth of his twitched again. “I see.”

“Do you have somewhere I can change?” she asked in as haughty of a voice as she could muster.

“I’m starting to see what you and Gail have in common,” he said. “There are two bedrooms with bathrooms on the second level. Why don’t you put on that pink jacket before you go up? I’d like to do one more photo like this.”