Chapter Eleven

 

 

He laughed. “Now you have to sell your boss. I doubt this is exactly the property that the Ruperts had in mind.”

“You leave the Ruperts to me,” she said.

She was happy she’d taken some psychology courses and negotiating in her MBA years because she was going to need every bit of persuasiveness to sell the Ruperts on The Mission.

In the end, she knew that all she had was Prescott. And the reasons he wanted to design a place on that particular lot.

She got on the phone to Iona, was put through two people and finally allowed to speak to her.

“Halle, you say you have good news. Tell me this means that Prescott is going to design my house?”

“That’s exactly what I wanted to tell you,” she gushed. “He’s going to design you an urban retreat. He’s very forward thinking, this is going to be the design of the future. Smaller footprint, completely sustainable.” She suspected Iona didn’t give a rat’s ass about sustainability, she was the crown princess of conspicuous consumption, but one thing Holly counted on that she wouldn’t be able to pass up on was fame.

“This design is going to be so forward thinking you’ll be setting a trend. The big estates will be a thing of the past. This home will get as much media as you can stand. You’ll be setting an example.”

Iona didn’t squeal with delight. She said, “Where is this place?”

Holly squeezed her eyes shut and held the phone away just in case. “Right in the center of San Francisco. The historical and exciting Mission district.”

“The Mission? One of my housekeepers lives in The Mission.” Close proximity to her staff did not sound like a big selling feature.

“Prescott’s very excited about this project. If you don't want it, I think he’s got a list of people waiting for him to design for them.”

“Don’t be hasty, Halle. I need to think about this. You lock that place up tight, sign something. Call my lawyer. I’ll tell my husband to put some money down on it, and I will think about it.”

“Absolutely.”

Knowing that Iona needed more encouragement, and in love with the idea of setting her up as an example of living small and sustainably, she dragged up some of the skills she’d learned and, more importantly, the contacts she’d made in her publishing and media degree and let a hint of a rumor slip out. Soon, she suspected, Iona would be the poster girl of green.

Prescott said he’d take her to dinner at Brouix. In a city of fantastic restaurants, Brouix was in the top handful. She was thrilled to go there because she’d always wanted to, and because Prescott’s firm had designed the interior. She knew from the website that the place was understated elegance, the design heavy on natural materials, bamboo and cork and granite.

Because working for Rupert occasionally required her to attend evening events, she’d supplemented her poor-grad-student-gets-her-first-underpaid-job wardrobe with a few nice pieces she’d purchased at her favorite vintage store.

She loved the owner’s style and kind of liked that she was also dressing sustainably, in a recycled black dress that showed off her curves but in a subtle way.

Rupert hadn’t bothered to contact her himself, but the former assistant had texted her when Iona had finally decided that she would take the property Prescott was willing to build on. “Boss happy. Think bonus. Buy yourself something nice.”

So, she’d splurged, going to Maria’s salon for a much-needed cut and style of her hair, indulging in a mani/pedi, and then she’d purchased a pair of shoes that were about twice what she’d ever paid for footwear in her life, but she considered them an investment.

At least, that’s what she told herself.

Maria had worked magic with her hair, somehow taming the tangle into something sexy and feminine, and convinced her to try a red, red lipstick.

Prescott had been ticking off all the items on his list that drove him crazy about Holly as he headed to pick her up in the limo. He liked driving, but his company had a limo service on retainer and he used it when he was going out so he could enjoy a drink or two and not have to either park his own car or worry about some kid in the valet parking taking control of his Tesla even for a minute.

In the quiet, sleek interior, he reminded himself that sleeping with Holly had been a dare. She’d shoehorned herself into his private life and then she’d behaved like a personal friend to him and to his entire family. He didn’t quite know how he’d decided that taking her to bed was a priority in his life, but it had become one.

Now what?

Once was for fun and to satisfy that sizzle that had been between them since the first day he’d walked out of his office to discover her perched on top of his car like an oversized and very untidy hood ornament.

Now he was taking her to dinner mainly as a celebration. He hadn’t been as excited about a project for a while. Of course, she’d expect to end up back at his place. And until this moment he’d assumed the same. However, as the limo drew closer to her apartment, he wondered. It wouldn’t be fair to raise expectations. She was a nice girl.

A really nice girl and they’d had more fun than he’d had in a long time. But she’d never be right for him in the long term. She had no restraint. He thought that was the biggest problem between them. He craved order and quiet and sleek aerodynamic styling. Holly was not quiet, or sleek, or orderly, and she most certainly wasn’t aerodynamic. Her hair was all over the place. Okay, it was curly, so not entirely her fault, but he always fought the urge to tuck it behind her ears or something. And yet, when he’d held it in his hands when they were in bed together, the curls had felt silky and frothy. If laughter had a feel, it would feel like Holly’s hair.

Her shirts were forever untucking from her skirts or pants. How hard was it to buy a shirt that fit? Immediately after he had the thought he felt like an ass. Easy for him to talk. He could afford to get his clothes custom made. Everything fit as though it had been made for him because most of his clothes had been made for him.

And yet other girls bought off-the-rack clothes and they weren’t forever coming untucked. The collars of their shirts and jackets didn’t end up so skewed that one side sat up and the other was folded down.

Her bag, her briefcase, always bulged with too much stuff. Her shoes weren’t polished.

He realized that as much as he’d been looking forward to spending another night with Holly that he was going to have to tell her that their night together had been a one-time thing. Fantastic, enjoyable—when was the last time he’d laughed in bed and it had felt so good? But it wasn’t fair to let her believe there was a future for them when there so clearly wasn’t.

He’d made the decision, feeling a stab of regret but knowing he was making the right call.

Then they arrived at her apartment door. Since she’d been frank with him that her student loans were a big reason for her determination to keep a crap job with a crap employer, he hadn’t been at all surprised to find that she lived in a poor looking apartment. Still, it bothered him that she lived here. She deserved so much more.

As the limo pulled up, he and the driver opened their doors at the same time. “I’ll go to the door,” he said, and got out. As he walked forward, the door to the apartment building opened and she stepped out.

It actually took him a moment to confirm that the gorgeous woman in front of him was Holly. Without her usual bags and electronics hanging off her, without any trails of clothing that needed tidying, she looked… It took him a second to come up with the correct word. Gorgeous, he realized. Amazing.

Someone, thankfully, had done something with that hair. It was cut into a style that made her curls work for her instead of against her. That hair gleamed with a decent cut that framed her face. Her make-up was nice. And when she smiled her red, red lips made him long to kiss her.

She wore a sleek black dress, much nicer than anything he’d ever seen her in before. Luckily, it was one piece, had no belts, collars or buttons that could be left open, dragging, hanging out or falling off. The dress showed off a figure he already knew to be spectacular, and that she tended to hide under the suits she wore for work.

Her shapely legs ended in shoes that his artistic eye approved of and his neatnik self applauded for being clean and shiny. He was almost certain those shoes had to be new, but he appreciated that for once nothing about her irked his sense of order.

Even her bag was small enough that not much of her traveling office could possibly fit into it.

“Wow, a limo,” she said, with her big, friendly smile as he drew closer.

“You look beautiful,” he said, because it was true and he was a man who appreciated beauty.

He saw her discomfort in the compliment when she shook her head quickly. Most of the women he dated took compliments as their due and knew exactly how beautiful they were. For many, their livings depended on their looks. So, it was fresh and kind of charming to see a woman blush and demur at a compliment.

In his mind, that little fluster made her more beautiful.

The driver had already stepped around and opened the door for her. She slipped into the limo, and, since she kept going, he slid in beside her.

“Did the Tesla run out of gas?” she teased.

“I thought this would be more relaxing. I never drink and drive.”

“Good for you.” Then she laughed. “I don't either, which usually means I take the bus or walk to wherever I’m going. A limo is a lot nicer.”

Then she turned to him, her eyes gleaming. “She said yes.”

He blinked at the rapid change of subject. “Who said yes to what?” But of course he already knew.

“Iona Rupert. I think she polled some of her friends and came back saying yes. She wants whatever house you design.”

“She knows where it is?”

“Yep. I might have put a few ideas in her head, like how forward thinking she was to choose a smaller footprint, green technology house. How much media attention there would be. She lapped it up.”

“Nice way to spin it.”

“Thanks.”

He wanted to keep his hands to himself but being beside her in the back of a town car, watching the excitement on her vivid face, he reached out and took her hand. Even her nails were painted and the soft feel of her skin beneath his palm reminded him of all the other soft parts of her.

When they sat down to dinner he enjoyed her enthusiastic pleasure in the place and the food. “I’ve never been here before but I’d heard how good it was. Your company did a great job. They must love you, too, because this has to be one of the best tables.”

Holly didn’t eat like a woman on a permanent diet. She didn’t view food as her enemy and appear to count calories with every bite. She ate to enjoy.

When she took pleasure in all the flavors brought to them, he found his own enjoyment heightened.

“Do you really think the Ruperts are going to live in The Mission?” he finally asked, having trouble picturing Iona in the area.

Holly tilted her head to one side, “I imagine she’ll drop that house into conversation to impress her friends more than she’ll live in it. I picture the place being a kind of townhouse, one of many around the world, but no. I think she’ll get her fabulous mansion somewhere. Now she’s nailed down her Prescott Chance design, she’ll soon want something bigger and more prestigious.” She sipped her wine, looking guilty, like she might have said too much. “Does that bother you?”

“Of course it bothers me. I design homes that are meant to be lived in. But I made you a deal. You kept your end of the bargain. I’ll keep mine.”

“And there’s the whole houses live longer than people argument,” she reminded him. “Long after the Ruperts are dead, people will continue to live in that house and be part of its future.”

“Now that you’ve got the property for them, I guess I won’t be seeing so much of you.” In his head he knew that was a good thing, but he was surprised at how much he was going to miss her.

She laughed. “Oh, you’re not getting rid of me that easily. Rupert was very clear that I will be the point person on this project.”

“The point person.”

“Yes. I will carry plans and ideas back and forth.”

“So, basically you’ll be making decisions about someone else’s house?”

“No. I won’t be making any decisions. I’ll be the go-between for information.” She grinned. “Bringing you impossible demands. Going back with curt refusals that I will soften. You’ll still be seeing a lot of me.”

He reached across the table and stilled the hand that was fiddling idly with the remaining cutlery by placing his on top of it. “Good,” he said.

As her head lifted and their gazes connected he knew he’d been lying to himself. He wasn’t going to back away, not from this crazy but amazing woman who challenged him and made him laugh. Who kissed with her entire body and made love with the same honest enthusiasm she brought to most things.

He felt the slight quiver in the fingers trapped beneath his palm. “Prescott, what are we doing here?”

She was asking the same question he’d wondered about himself. The best answer he could give her was, “We’re enjoying ourselves. It’s simple and uncomplicated.”

She seemed genuinely puzzled. “Nothing in my life ever ends up being simple and uncomplicated.”

Having known her for a few weeks he could agree that was true but then she overscheduled herself, was too impulsive. He didn’t share his thoughts with her, though. Instead he said, “Trust me. We can keep this from getting messy.”

“Do you always manage to avoid entanglements?”

“I think so, pretty much.”

She sighed softly. “Maybe you can show me how it’s done.”

He paid the check and they left together. When they got back to his place, he showed her exactly how it was done. Easy, uncomplicated.

“Are there rules to this?” she asked when they were taking a breather.

He frowned. “Rules to what?”

“Keeping things easy and uncomplicated? For instance, staying the night? Is that frowned on?”

He’d had absolutely no intention of spending the entire night with Holly. It was too soon for that. Maybe they’d get to that stage, maybe not. But even though the limo service had been warned they might be needed later, he found he had no interest in sending her home.

“No rules,” he decided, leaning forward and kissing her.