Various States of Undress: Virginia (30 page)

D
URING THE WEEK
he waited for his grandfather to make a decision, Dex didn't call Virginia, though it killed him not to. Instead, he focused all of his energy on convincing the old man that he cared. That he was completely serious about buying Lilah's. Dex cashed in investments; put his apartment on the market; drew up a sales offer; and badgered his grandfather with phone calls, letters delivered via messenger, and failed attempts at visits. On the eighth day, a Friday, when Dex was trying to ignore the cracks that had begun to invade his confidence, he got a phone call from DB's administrative assistant, who told him that his grandfather would see him. Within minutes, Dex was in a cab and on his way to Granddad's building on Park Avenue, a briefcase containing a copy of the sales agreement in tow.

As he rode up in the elevator, he realized that he felt a lot different than he had a couple of months ago on his way to see Granddad. Then, he'd been scared shitless of the old man—full of resentment—and on the path to becoming just like him. Now? Dex knew himself. He knew what he wanted, and his grandfather's approval didn't matter anymore. It only mattered that he get some closure with him.

When the elevator doors opened, Judy was standing there, her hands clasped. “He won't speak to me,” she whispered. “He hasn't said a word since he told me to call you.”

Dex nodded and, after squeezing her shoulder, walked down the hall and into the parlor. His grandfather sat in his usual stiff chair, but instead of glaring daggers at Dex as he typically did, he stared out the window, his posture deflated.

“Hi, Granddad. How are you today?” Dex put down his briefcase, sat on the edge of the sofa, and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. He waited, and finally, his grandfather turned his head.

“Get me that envelope over there.” DB gestured toward a built-in desk along the wall. Dex brought the small envelope to him and sat back down.

With shaking fingers, DB opened it and pulled out a brittle photo, its edges yellowing. “Here,” he said, holding it out.

Dex took it, and a smile lifted the corners of his lips. It was a picture of his grandmother—one he'd never seen before—and in it, she was very young. She wore what looked to be a snug, brightly patterned dress. There were cherries on the toes of her shoes, and she was laughing, her lips dramatically dark and glossy. Her hair lifted in the wind, and her eyes were half closed. Thousands of people stood behind her, and she held tiny American flags in both hands. “Beautiful,” he murmured.

The only sound in the room was the loud tick of a clock on the fireplace mantle; after a moment, DB cleared his throat. “That was taken on VE Day, in Times Square. It's the day I met her.” He cleared his throat again. “It was 1945. She was eighteen years old.”

Dex looked up. “Did you take this picture?”

“I did. A month later, we were married.”

“And four years later, the doors to Lilah's opened for the first time,” Dex added. He'd heard the story many times from his grandmother. “How . . . how long has it been since you looked at this photo?”

“Since the day of her funeral.”

“Granddad, that was ten years ago.”

The old man swiveled his head. “I know that. I may have one foot in the grave myself, but I can still tell time.” He took a deep breath, as if he intended to start a tirade, but then he sat back in the chair and closed his eyes. “I suppose you still don't want to be CEO?”

“No.” Dex stared at the photo. “I only want Lilah's.”

“And the girl,” DB said gruffly.

“Since the day I met her.” Dex stood up and held out the photo. “Thanks for showing this to me.”

“Keep it. I memorized it a long time ago.” DB leaned over to the side and picked up another envelope from the floor—this one large and rectangular. “Here. I signed the sales agreement. Lilah's is yours, Dexter.” He thrust the envelope into Dex's hands. “I only have one request.”

Dex let out a long breath. “Sure.”

“Don't let success go to your head. Don't take Virginia for granted. Treat her with respect, and when she acts impulsively, be patient. Remember that your time on earth with her won't be forever.” DB looked up, his eyes cloudy but not with tears. With age—and grief. “Now get out. I'm busy.”

Dex wanted to say something—anything to make it better—but he knew no matter what he said, he couldn't fix another person's regret. Handing over Lilah's was probably the hardest thing his grandfather had ever done. “Thank you.” He put the two envelopes in his briefcase—one large, one small—both of them tickets to his future.

DB turned his head back toward the windows. “Tell your sister she's CEO. I know I'm going to regret it, but you're not leaving me much choice.”

“I know that.” Dex hesitated. It would be reckless not to warn his grandfather somehow. “May I make a suggestion?”

“Doesn't mean I'm going to take it, but I'll listen. What?”

“Ariel has the drive. She's smart. But she needs ethics training first—intensive ethics training. And an MBA. I'd make her wait a few years. Should . . . anything happen to you in that time, the board of directors could act in her stead.”

“Fine. Go ahead and tell her that too.”

“I'll see you soon.” Dex reached out and touched the old man's thin shoulder.

DB didn't acknowledge the gesture, so Dex turned and left the room. Judy was nowhere to be seen, but as he got on the elevator, Dex heard sniffling coming from a nearby room. He held the doors open. “Judy?”

She emerged with a tissue in one hand. “I'm proud of him. And of you. Please tell me you're going to go get your girl now. I'm sick and tired of reading about your breakup on the front page of the
Post
.”

Dex smiled. “We didn't break up. And you better keep your eyes peeled, Judy, because there's going to be more news soon.”

“Oh, Lord.” She rolled her eyes. “Wonder what the papers will report next?”

Shrugging, Dex let the elevator doors close. If he had anything to say about it, the next news item would be an engagement announcement. It wasn't guaranteed, of course, but in his heart, he didn't have room for doubt, fear, or what-ifs. Virginia had his heart, and she'd filled it with confidence, love, and certainty.

He hailed a cab, went straight to her building, and marched up to the concierge desk. The guy behind it was reading the
Post
, the paper covering his face. The cover was splashed with a big photo of Virginia and Dex holding hands, both of them wearing sunglasses and frowns. “It's Officially Over!” read the headline.

Dex snorted. “Hey, mister. You might want to try a book instead,” he said, but there was too much of a smile in his voice for his stern tone to have much effect.

The paper dropped and Dex stared at Larry, who narrowed his eyes. “Where the hell have you been?” Larry asked.

“I've been busy mapping out my future,” Dex answered. “Where is she?”

Larry raised his eyebrows. “Don't you know?”

For a second, the bottom of Dex's stomach dropped. “No. Did she leave the city?”

“She went looking for you. Charlie and Nick are driving her to your place.”

“I was at my grandfather's place. He just sold Lilah's to me.”

Larry cracked a smile. “Yeah? Okay, hang on.” He muttered into his sleeve and, after a moment, looked up. “Since you weren't answering your phone, apparently, they're driving in circles while she makes up her mind where to go next.”

“I was in an important meeting and had my phone turned off. Please find her,” Dex demanded. “Call them and—”

“What do I look like—a concierge?” Larry chuckled. “Hold your horses.” He adjusted his earpiece and muttered into his sleeve again. A second later, he looked up at Dex. “Where do you want to meet her?”

“Lilah's. Tell her I'll be there as fast as I can. Tell her—” Dex wheeled around and ran for the door. “No. I'll tell her that. Thanks, man!”

“Wait! Grand Central Terminal—they'll pick you up in front.”

Dex shoved open the lobby doors and sprinted, one hand gripping the handle of his briefcase. He ran down Forty-Second Street, crossed Second Avenue, weaving through the pedestrian traffic. He crossed Third Avenue, dodging cabs and a guy who thrust flyers at him, and reached the corner of Lexington Avenue and Forty-Second Street just as the traffic light turned red. “Damn!” He skidded to a halt directly in front of Duane Reade.

Grabbing the pole of the bus stop sign, he doubled over, his hands on his knees, gulping to catch his breath while he waited for the light to change before sprinting one more block. He looked up just as a black Secret Service SUV pulled over to the curb next to him. The passenger door closest to the sidewalk flew open, and Virginia sprang out, grinning. She wore rumpled-looking sweats, a limp T-shirt, and flip-flops. Her hair was a mess, and when she shoved sunglasses to the top of her head, her eyes were ringed with shadows. He'd never seen a more beautiful woman in his life.

“Where the hell have you been?” she asked, just as she jumped into his arms. He staggered back, his legs limp from spent adrenalin. “Careful,” he said with a gasp, juggling his briefcase.

“You're careful enough for both of us,” she said.

“Oh yeah?” He brushed her hair out of her face and grinned. And then he gave her a sizzling kiss, not caring a bit that Charlie and Nick stood on either side of them, so close that he could feel their suit sleeves brush his arm. Tasting Virginia's mouth felt like heaven on earth—so sweet, so welcoming, so full of joy. He let out a little groan and pulled back to look into her eyes. They were twinkling.

She glanced over her shoulder. “Isn't that the Duane Reade where you bought condoms?”

“I don't remember,” he answered and bent to kiss her again. She tilted her face away, a teasing smile on her lips, and inclined her head toward a cab with its window rolled down. A guy in a baseball cap blatantly pointed a camera in their direction. “I'd rather not have the paparazzi follow us all the way back to my place,” she said.

“Yeah.” Dex kissed her anyway, and then he grabbed her hand. “But we're not going to your place. We're going to
our
place.” He glanced at Charlie, who nodded.

She gave him a confused look. “Oookay. Let's go.”

They got into the SUV, and, as it pulled away from the curb, Dex pulled Virginia onto his lap. “You know why I didn't call for a week, don't you?” he murmured.

“I came up with lots of reasons, some of them paranoid and some of them nightmarish,” she answered. “But I settled on the one that made the most sense. We both needed time. You wanted to give me time.”

He gazed at her. “To make sure I'm worth the hassle.”

“You're worth a lot more than that.”

“My family—”

“Is a mess. I know that, Dex. And this is going to sound arrogant, but mine isn't. I'm so lucky, and they're going to love you.” Virginia grinned. “I don't think my dad wants to kill you for real. And Georgia thinks you're hot. She'd freak if she knew I told you, though.”

“I'm not going to say a word.” He chuckled and then, not able to contain his excitement anymore, leaned in close to whisper. “Are you curious about the fact that your agents know where we're going, but you don't?”

“No. I have a pretty good idea.” She paused. “Although I hate to walk into Lilah's looking like this. That is where we're going, right?”

“Yes.” He winked at her. “We'll go in through the stockroom so you don't scare anyone.”

“Is it still . . . empty?”

He hesitated. He didn't know—and he would have asked Granddad today, but he didn't want to push his luck. The fact that the old man had sold Lilah's to him was miracle enough. “Yeah. I think so, sweetheart.”

“Okay.” She sighed. “We will find out where Ariel stored it, and we'll hold off on the opening for a bit. For now, it's enough that you fixed things with your grandfather. I'm proud of you. You'll be a good CEO.”

His heart sped up. “Virginia, I'm not going to be CEO. I don't want to be.”

“Then . . . why are we going to Lilah's?”

“Because I own it.”

She shifted on his lap and stared up at him. “How?”

“I consolidated some assets. And then I badgered my grandfather for the better part of a week, thinking it was up to me to convince him. As it turned out, he had to convince himself.” Dex gestured toward his briefcase. “Look.”

She shifted off his lap, snapped open the case, and picked up the small envelope. “This is old.” Carefully she reached inside and drew out the photo. “Oh wow. Lilah?”

“That's her. She's almost as beautiful as you are. And I have a feeling she would be very impressed with you.”

“Thank you,” Virginia murmured. She gazed at him and then back at the photo. “Lilah, your grandson is trying to make me cry.”

“No, sweetheart. There have been enough tears.” He slid a hand over the curve of her hip, and for the next few minutes he held her close, content to run his fingers through her hair. “There,” he said. “I combed out your rat's nest for you.”

Her answering smack to his gut sent breath whooshing out of his lungs, but he still managed to chuckle. “We're here.”

Quickly, Virginia put away the photo and handed him the briefcase. The SUV pulled into the alley, which—thank the stars—was empty, and he took her hand and led her inside. The stockroom was empty except for Ruston, who stood near the door to the smock closet, a startled look on his face.

“Ruston!” Virginia called.

As Dex watched, Ruston walked slowly across the floor, stopping in front of Virginia. He looked her up and down, and then flicked a finger toward her shoes. “Chanel?”