Page 49 of Sex, Lust & Lingerie

CHAPTER 28

Gloria

Jaime managed to get me back to my office just in time for me to change back into my suit and meet Vivien at The Ivy. Truthfully, I was wiped out from the day’s events and wanted to go back to my condo, take a hot shower, and rest up. The thought of canceling drinks with Vivien entered my mind, but as tempting as that was, it was too late. She was probably on her way. I sighed with resignation as I re-braided my hair. Maybe, just maybe, something good would come of it.

Just before leaving my office, I checked my emails and messages on my cell phone, which I’d left behind while on my excursion with Jaime. My stomach clenched. Almost all of them were from Victor. I played the first. The tone of his voice was menacing. “Where the hell are you, Gloria? You’re not in your office, and you’re not picking up your cell. Call me!” There were several more of these messages, each one angrier than the one before, as well as numerous all-caps shouty emails and texts. Screw him! Let him stew. I threw my phone into my purse, and with my briefcase in hand, I waltzed out of my office, lightheaded with the thought of possibly seeing Jaime later.

On my way out of the building, I passed by numerous employees. With bright smiles, they bid me good night, some even mentioning how awesome my speech was today. A warm feeling radiated inside me. I was blessed to have so many wonderful employees. They worked long hours and were dedicated to their jobs. And they were dedicated to me. The thought of losing them sent a ripple of sadness through me. I told myself it was not going to happen. I wasn’t very convincing.

I made it to The Ivy at exactly six-thirty. The LA rush hour traffic was the only thing I couldn’t take about this city. It was insane. Fifteen years ago when I’d moved to The City of Angels, it took only twenty minutes to get from place to place. Now, it took forty—if you were lucky. Tonight I was lucky.

I left my Porsche with the valet outside the restaurant, tipping the attendant extra to keep it parked nearby. “Time equals money,” Madame Paulette had preached, and with the stock crisis, every minute counted. With brisk steps, I strode into the popular restaurant and headed straight to the tropical-themed bar. It was already packed with attractive men and women, enjoying an after-work drink or waiting for a table to dine. One of my favorite songs, Leona Lewis’s “Bleeding Love,” was playing in the background. My eyes scanned the area. Vivien, not known for her punctuality, was nowhere to be found. I immediately called her on my phone, wanting to know her whereabouts. No answer. I left her a message, asking to call or text me with her estimated time of arrival. And then another thought crossed my mind. Perhaps, she had reserved a table inside the restaurant. I headed back to the hostess holding court near the entrance.

“Could you please tell me if Vivien Holden has a reservation for two at six-thirty?” I asked.

Standing behind a podium, the bubbly blonde, for sure a young, aspiring actress with her bombshell looks, scanned her reservations log. Her face brightened. “Yes!” She gazed up at me. “Are you, by chance, Ms. Long?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“Follow me,” she said with a wide smile. “Ms. Holden is expecting you.”

Keeping up with her, I had to say I was impressed that Vivien had thought ahead and made a table reservation. Noisy bars with horny singles were not my thing.

“She’s seated at the corner table to the right,” said the hostess as we wove through the bustling, candle-lit restaurant.

My eyes darted in that direction and my heart dropped to the floor.

Sure enough, there was Vivien, all dolled up. And cozied up next to her was a drop-dead handsome man with his lips latched onto hers in a passionate embrace. Jaime Zander!

I stood paralyzed in shock. Every ounce of blood drained from my system. A bullet had once almost torn through my heart. This time it was as if it didn’t miss. The excruciating pain didn’t give rage a chance.

“Are you okay?” asked the hostess.

At first, I couldn’t get my mouth to move; it hung open, but it felt like my jaw was wired shut. I fortified myself with a deep painful breath, forcing reason and movement back into my being. “Yes,” I stuttered. “I can take it from here.”

The pleased hostess, oblivious to my stupefied state of being, told me to enjoy my evening and skirted away.

Run, don’t walk,my inner voice urged. Which way? Out the door? My legs were super- glued to the floor. I still couldn’t get them to move.

Then, without warning, a sudden rush of adrenaline surged inside me. My heart pounded against my chest, rage propelling me. Wasting no time, I stormed up to them. They were still in a heated embrace.

“Is this your business client?” I ground out the words as hot tears sprung to my eyes.

The sound of my voice caught Jaime off guard. He abruptly jerked away from Vivien and gazed up at me. His face was drained of color, and his eyes were as round as two blue marbles. “Jesus Christ!” he gasped in shock.

“Fuck you!” I screamed back at him.

Vivien flung her head back and raked her fingers through her perfectly blown raven hair. Some doctor’s appointment—she’d spent the afternoon beautifying for her hot date. She was perfectly made up, and her tight little purple dress practically still had the price tag on it. A wicked, triumphant smile flitted across her face. “So nice to see you, Gloria. Do you want to join us? Jaime was just telling me about all the good ideas he has to get Gloria’s Secret back on track.”

My eyes lanced into him. He remained speechless as hurt and rage battled for the prize of my broken heart. How could have I fallen for him? Given him everything I had? Believed what he’d told me only a few hours ago? Let myself think there was a future with him? Suddenly, I felt goddamn fucking stupid. I’d been played. Played by that vixen bitch Vivien, who cleverly lured me here, and used by a bastard sex god who used his cock to get to me and win my account. I’d been deceived. Totally, terribly deceived.

His jaw twitching, Jaime attempted to say something. “Gloria, I had no idea—”

I cut him off. “Take your fucking ring back. There is no toi et moi!” Burning now with rage, I tore the ring off my middle finger and hurled it at him. It bounced off his rock-hard chest and landed with a sharp ping somewhere on the floor. My shaking finger stung like hell. I glanced down at it. Fuck. I’d torn off a sizeable chunk of skin on my knuckle. It was raw and bleeding.

“Ooh, that must hurt,” cooed Vivien, venom pouring out of her eyes.

My finger throbbed, but it was nothing compared to the throbbing in my heart.

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