CHAPTER FOURTEEN

They’d forbidden her to set foot in Bliss before ten-forty-five.

Parking her car, Claire got out and started toward the store. She couldn’t help the furtive looks she kept throwing at the storefront windows to catch a glimpse of the new her. She still couldn’t believe the woman looking back at her was her. Brooke hadn’t been bragging. She’d expertly used her bulging bag of cosmetics to make Claire’s eyes appear deeper, a bit of rouge to emphasize her high cheekbones—courtesy of her great-grandmother who was Cherokee, then cut and styled her thick hair—courtesy of her African ancestors—into a wedge cut. The change had been dramatic.

But best of all Brooke hadn’t said one word about all of Claire’s talk about Gray just being a friend. Neither had Lorraine when she arrived this morning. She had just set about helping with her transformation. They didn’t want Claire working in the shop and mussing her hair or ruining her makeup.

They told her she was not uncrating boxes of products and getting the shop ready before her date with Gray, and that was an order. Claire smiled. After all these years of being alone, it was nice to have two wonderful friends.

Still smiling, Claire turned the street corner and came to an abrupt halt. A group of women were standing in front of Bliss, pointing and laughing at something in the window. The first thing that went through her mind was that they were laughing at the products. Dread coursed through her as she hurried up the sidewalk to peer over their shoulders.

In the display window was a twenty-four-by-eighteen-inch picture of Brooke by herself with her head thrown back, looking sensual, with a caption underneath that said, “Pamper yourself with Bliss.” On the other side of the door was another promo piece for the new line of bath and body products and a photo of Brooke and John together with the words “Is it the man or the Bliss? You’ll never tell.”

Claire gasped.

“Same thing I thought when I saw it,” the woman in front of Claire said with a wide grin. “I’ll certainly be back for the grand opening.”

Claire turned to go inside the shop, then stopped. “Please do,” she said and extended her hand to the woman who had spoken. “I’m Claire Bennett, one of the owners of Bliss. We’ll have samples of the products available at the grand opening.”

“Can we sample him, too, and see for ourselves?” one of the women asked.

Claire laughed before she could stop herself. “You’ll have to ask him.”

She was still smiling when she unlocked the front door and entered the shop. Brooke and Lorraine hadn’t wasted their time. Beside the window display, they had already put out one complete line of products.

“The window display is a hit,” she said as Brooke and Lorraine came out of the back through the swinging white louvered doors.

Brooke grinned. “People have been stopping by all morning.”

“It’s just what we needed to get a buzz going.” Lorraine’s eyes sparkled. “I can certainly attest to Brooke’s marketing savvy about men.”

Claire’s eyes widened at the implication. She couldn’t keep the blush from spreading from her neck upward.

Brooke wrinkled her nose, viciously tore open another box and began pulling out bath and shower gel in cylindrical plastic bottles. “She’s been grinning and bragging like that ever since we arrived and put up the pictures. If I had known that, I might have waited.”

“I thought you’d be happy I’d test-marketed your theory. Hamilton certainly was.”

Brooke plopped a bottle on the glass shelf none too gently. “Not when I can’t test-market it.”

“I think I’ll take the Peach Meringue body cream home tonight,” Lorraine said, placing a jar of the product on a shelf.

Brooke shot to her feet. “Claire, don’t you think it’s in very poor taste for Lorraine to rub it in when we can’t do our own test-marketing?”

Claire opened her mouth, closed it, then tucked her head. “I … I … er … don’t think there’s a possibility for comparison in my case.”

There was dead silence for five full seconds. “You couldn’t be!” Brooke rounded the counter. “Tell me you aren’t,” she asked in disbelief.

Claire wanted to slink away. There should have been at least one man she’d met in her thirty-nine years who she’d cared about enough to be intimate with.

“There’s nothing wrong with waiting, Claire,” Lorraine said from directly beside her. “Is there, Brooke?”

Claire lifted her head to see the astonished look on Brooke’s face before it cleared. “No. No, of course not.”

“I didn’t have many dates in high school because I wanted to get an academic scholarship so I could go to college. Then in college I needed the grades to maintain the scholarship and to get the best possible job afterwards.” She shrugged and placed her purse on the countertop beside a grouping of Honeysuckle Passion candles. “I always thought there’d be time for marriage and children.”

“There is and I don’t want to hear you say otherwise,” Lorraine told her firmly.

“Then, Claire, you can do your test-marketing,” Brooke said wink.

“What’s this about Claire doing test-marketing?” a deep voice from behind them asked.

The women spun around to see Gray. Claire swallowed hard. Not so much from embarrassment, although she was. She’d never seen him in faded jeans that looked as if they’d been poured on and a white Polo shirt that stretched across his wide chest. Thoughts of test-marketing popped into her mind.

A smile lifted the corners of Gray’s sensual mouth. “Ladies, I’ve been around enough women in my family to know that look.”

Brooke managed to speak first. “We were just startled, that’s all.”

“Because you were caught talking about men,” he correctly guessed.

The women’s jaws dropped.

Gray laughed and as always Claire was fascinated by the way it softened his face. It made her want to curl up in his lap and sigh. Closing the door, he started toward her, the laughter still lurking in his eyes when they suddenly narrowed. Claire tensed in spite of herself.

“You look beautiful.”

She stared wordlessly at him as pleasure spread through her, but she’d be darned if she choked on the first compliment she’d ever received from a man. “Thank you.”

He glanced around the shop. “Looks good. The window display should bring customers in by the droves.”

“They’ve been stopping all morning,” Lorraine said.

“Brooke’s idea,” Claire added, feeling more at ease. “I think the women want to meet the man almost as much as they want to sample the product.”

A snort came from Brooke’s direction. Spinning on her heel, she went back to shelving products. “Once he opens his arrogant, egotistical mouth they’ll be running for the hills.”

Gray’s eyebrow lifted. “I thought you and John got along very well.”

Brooke’s gaze clashed with Gray’s. “Even you can make a mistake.”

“I stand corrected,” Gray said, then turned to Claire. “How about the tour and we can go to lunch before the place gets too crowded?”

She showed him around the shop, then they were ready to leave. “Would you ladies like to join us?” Gray asked.

“No, thank you,” Brooke and Lorraine said in unison.

Gray opened the door with one hand and placed the other one on the curve of Claire’s small waist. “We’ll be going then. By the way, Brooke, if you hadn’t thought to do so, I’d trademark the captions beneath the photos and any other ideas regarding ‘test-marketing.’”

Claire tensed. “Just how long were you standing there?”

“Not nearly long enough.”

Trying to decipher what he meant, Claire let Gray usher her out the door and down the street.

*   *   *

The restaurant was once a barbershop and still had the original pounded tin ceiling and hardwood floors. It also had some of the best fried cheese grits, she-crab soup, and pan-fried catfish sandwiches in the city. Claire and Gray just managed to beat the rush and snag a table on the patio surrounded by lush greenery and colorful flowers.

“I’d forgotten about this place until you mentioned it,” Gray said, digging into his shrimp sautéed with scallions and mushrooms with gusto. “Good choice.”

“Glad you approve,” Claire said as she dined on pasta salad with grilled vegetables. “Thanks for the tip about the copyright.”

“No problem. Comes with being in the business.” He tore off a chunk of French bread. “The three of you complement each other very well. It’s not easy forming a working relationship.”

Claire sipped her raspberry iced tea. “I wish I could do more besides just making the products.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Gray told her. “Without the products there’d be no Bliss. And don’t forget you came up with the first marketing idea.”

Down went Claire’s head. He wished again that he’d caught the women’s conversation earlier. Like he’d said, he surmised they were talking about men. What he didn’t say was that it was probably about men and sex. Somehow he didn’t think Claire had very much experience with either.

“What are you going to test-market?”

She choked on her tea that she’d picked up again. The tall glass hit the wooden table with a plop. She blinked those big beautiful brown eyes of hers at him, then bit on her lower lip. He had the strangest urge to bite it for her.

“Test-market?” Her voice sounded strained.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

Her eyes went wide again and he knew without a doubt he’d been right. Brooke didn’t appear the shy type and Lorraine was too sophisticated. Claire, on the other hand, had probably led a very sheltered life.

“Ah, no.”

For some reason he didn’t want to let it go. “Why don’t you tell me about it?”

She opened another package of crackers. Her salad was almost gone and she still had two crackers left on her plate. “It–it’s kind of complicated.”

“Claire,” Gray said, putting his hands on her to stop the nervous motion and giving into the need to touch her. Her skin was smooth and soft. Her hand jerked, then stilled. “Men are going to come into the shop to buy gifts for the women in their lives. You’ll have to talk to them.”

She twisted in her chair and slowly withdrew her hand. “You probably think I’m terribly naïve.”

“I think you have a whole world out there waiting for you and it’s going to be interesting to see you discover it.” He picked up his fork and was glad to see her do the same. He didn’t speak again until she’d finished her meal. “When is the grand opening?”

She placed her napkin on the table and settled back. “We’re aiming for mid-September.”

“From what I saw today, you’ll be ready.” He shoved his empty plate aside. “Would you like dessert or coffee?”

She shook her head. “No. The food was delicious. Thank you.”

“My pleasure. I enjoyed being with you,” he told her, then placed a bill on the table.

She flushed as warmth radiated through her. She’d never met a man as complimentary or as caring as Gray.

He stood. “Shall we go?”

Claire reached for her purse, but couldn’t make herself pick it up. Gray had more confidence in her than she had in herself. She had to stop running from life. She was a grown woman. Talking about sex shouldn’t embarrass her. She stared up at Gray. “Before we go I’d like to tell you about the marketing plan we were discussing.”

“All right.” He sat back down.

“We propose that using certain Bliss products on a woman’s skin is BTS. Better Than Sex. For many women this will be a moot point as they lead very satisfying lives without men, but for others it presents an intriguing possibility and a challenge to the men in their lives. We believe that these men might take exception to our claim and try to prove it false.”

Gray didn’t appear shocked. What he looked like was interested. Claire’s body heated.

“Is that what the test-marketing talk was about?”

She refused to look away. “Yes.”

“Interesting concept. I hope you know I’m available to help in any way I can.”

Claire didn’t know if he meant what he said as a come-on or if he was just being concerned. “Thank you.” She stood and picked up her purse.

“Excuse me.”

Turning, she saw three women sitting at a table behind theirs. “Yes?”

“We overheard what you just said and wanted the address of the store and the name of the product,” one of the women said.

Claire took a business card from her purse. “It will have the trademark BTS.”

The woman laughed. “My husband will have a fit.”

“And you’ll both reap the benefits,” Gray commented with a smile.

The women whooped, then the one who had spoken looked at Gray and said, “Looks like you’ll be reaping your own benefits.”

Claire didn’t blush, just walked out of the restaurant with Gray, hoping the woman’s prediction might come true.

*   *   *

“John, it’s your mother on the phone.”

John straightened from beneath the hood of the car to see the receptionist standing in the doorway connecting the garage and the waiting room. Concern knitted his brow. His mother didn’t call during the day unless it was important. “Tell her I’ll be there as soon as I wash up.”

With a wave, Samantha disappeared back inside the office. Quickly washing his hands, John followed and indicated to the receptionist that he’d take the call in his office. “Hi, Mama. Everything ok?”

“Well, baby, that’s what I called to ask you.”

Since his mother only called him “baby” when only she and his father were around and when she was in a good mood, the tension trying to knot his shoulders disappeared. “Mama, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You should have told me and your daddy,” she chided gently. “Seems everybody knew but us. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it for myself. Of course it kind of shocked me for a minute.”

Frowning, John took a seat behind his desk. “Told you what?”

“Your picture with that woman for Bliss.”

He came to his feet. “You saw that picture?”

“Me and a lot of members at the church,” she told him. “Sister Brown’s daughter, Mary, works down the street from the store and was passing on her way to work this morning and saw you. That girl’s the worst gossip. She probably spent the next hour calling everybody she could think of.”

John closed his eyes and thought of his hands around Brooke’s beautiful little neck. She’d scammed him.

“You know Mary likes you. She was probably jealous it wasn’t her even as she told everybody who’d listen that the pictures were shameless.”

Maybe he’d hang Brooke up by her toes first.

“Well, after Sister Hopkins called and said what Mary said, I got my hat and had your daddy take me down there myself. I had to drag the old rascal away from the picture of that woman of yours over to the other side to look at your picture.”

He almost got hung up on “that woman of yours” before he realized he had a more critical matter—that of his sixty-five-year-old conservative father seeing Brooke in one of those provocative poses. So many conflicting emotions ran through John’s mind he couldn’t sort them all.

“I have to tell you, I just about hung my head.”

John’s own head fell. His parents had always been so proud of him. “Mama—”

“Then I heard what a woman beside me said and I have to tell you I had to hold tight to my religion.”

“Mama—”

“That woman said you were probably gay and the whole thing was faked.”

“What!”

“You better believe I set her straight. I told her you were my son, you were not gay and even if you were, it was none of her business. I told her you were a widower and had two beautiful children and owned your own business. Your daddy added that he was your father and proud of it.”

Worse and worse. His parents had to defend him.

“You’ll never imagine what happened then.”

He was afraid to ask, but didn’t have to.

“Women started giving me their phone number for you to call them,” his mother said cheerfully. “You know I loved Linda, but we both know as sweet and loving as she was she wouldn’t want you and the children to be alone. After women start seeing that picture you’ll have more women than you can shake a stick at. Hold on, baby, your daddy wants to say something.”

“Mama—”

“Hello, son. I know you’re grown, but if I were you, I’d stick with your first choice.”

“My first choice?”

“The woman in the picture.”

Brooke’s life was definitely in imminent danger.