Love, Your Concierge Page 5

  “You may go now,” Corinne said, looking down her nose at me and pointing the hand not holding the bag towards the elevator.

  Well. Apparently, I was being dismissed.

  I turned and walked towards the elevator, praying it was still on this floor and very aware of Corinne’s gaze still on me. How horrible would it have been if I had to wait with her staring at me? As soon as the doors opened, I rushed in and hit the button to go down. After the doors closed, I leaned up against the wall and closed my eyes.

  Glad that was over.

  ♥♥♥♥♥

  Wicked was well… wickedly awesome. It was by far my favorite Broadway musical to date. Going to a show was one of my most favorite things to do on a night out. I enjoyed dressing up and losing myself in the stories that were acted out. It takes great courage to get up night after night in front of so many people and pour your heart and soul into a character. I admired each and every one of the cast members for being able to do it so flawlessly.

  Standing outside by the cast’s entryway, I pulled my wrap tighter around my shoulders when a shiver worked up my spine. The evenings were getting cooler now that autumn was upon us. My LBD, or Little Black Dress for those not in the know, fell just above my knees and had no sleeves. The back was cut down into a V-shape that ended just above my ass. The neckline was modest but showcased my collarbone. The red wrap went perfectly with it, along with my red Louboutin heels that were by far my biggest splurge of the last two years. They could be considered last season, but I loved them just the same.

  I turned around hoping to find Maya, who had gone looking for her director friend, when I saw him. Or should I say them.

  Grant had a raven-haired woman’s hand tucked around his elbow as he escorted her out of the theater.

  Son of a bitch. What were the chances that we would be at the same show?

  When his eyes locked with mine, his eyebrow quirked in an adorable and sexy way. The expression that crossed his face as he took me in, I couldn’t read. And I didn’t want to read it. He was a pig of the worst variety.

  “Ms. Ward. What a pleasure seeing you here.” He stopped in front of me, and his date pressed closer to his side in a clear attempt to claim him. Good luck with that lady.

  Of course, Grant looked devastatingly handsome. His ever present suit appeared to just be a two-piece underneath his tanned coat. His suit was black tonight, with a white dress shirt and red patterned tie. His date wore a deep blue dress that plunged indecently in the front and stopped mid-thigh. She was nowhere near as classy as Corinne. She was definitely at least two steps below Corrine.

  That still didn’t stop me from noticing that he and I matched. A small part of me was giddy with the thought. The other part of me latched onto my disgust with my earlier errands and ran with my anger.

  “That’s one way of putting it,” I replied with a saccharine sweet smile to hide the sarcasm behind my words.

  The corners of his mouth twitched like he wanted to smile, but instead he turned to the woman currently suction cupped to him. “This is Elise Kensington. Elise, this is Elizabeth Ward.”

  Her smile was false when she murmured her hello. Of course, mine was just as fake.

  “Are you waiting for someone?” His head discreetly craned around, probably looking for my unknown date.

  “My friend knows the director. I’m waiting for her to return from backstage.” I wasn’t sure why I even bothered to explain that. For some sick reason, I didn’t want him to think I was with another man.

  “I see,” he replied and leveled his intense stare on me, but his voice seemed to hold a hint of pleasure at my statement.

  Could this day get any worse? Seriously.

  “Well, I wouldn’t want to keep you from your date,” I said when he made no move to excuse himself.

  That did make him smirk, but it didn’t make him leave. “It’s no bother, Elizabeth. I’d hate to leave you here alone.”

  Yep… there it was. This day could, in fact, get worse. Good to know.

  Desperate for an escape, I grabbed my phone and quickly sent Maya a text that I wasn’t feeling well and was heading home. Dropping it back in my purse, I lifted my eyes to Grant and his latest victim and lied through my teeth. This was self-preservation at its finest.

  “It appears she sent me a message that she is going to be a while. I’m just going to head home. It was good seeing you and it was a pleasure to meet you.”

  Before I got to the edge of the sidewalk to hail a taxi, Grant was there. His strong arm lifted, two fingers flicked in the air, and a cab immediately pulled to the curb. Impressive.

  He opened the door and grabbed my elbow to help me into the car. My arm tingled from the touch of his hand, and I felt my face warming thanks to his close proximity. As I turned to slide ass first into the car so that my goods didn’t play peek-a-boo with everyone, his mouth pressed to my ear and his warm breath fanned over my neck when he said, “Until we meet again, beautiful.”

  Stunned at his endearment, I looked up at him as I woodenly sat in the car. I was still looking at him when he shut the door and the cabbie drove away.

  Chapter Five

  Quite a View

  “Maya, I know what I’m doing. You just have to trust that I know what’s best for me,” I sighed into the phone that was tucked between my chin and shoulder and listened to my best friend berate me, yet again, for letting Matt leave New York last night without a fight.

  It really sucked saying goodbye to him. Regardless of the way things were ending, I still loved him and was going to miss him. As it was, the last month had been torture not hanging out with him. I understood his need for space and a clean break, but I selfishly hoped he would come back. Even if it was just once. I wanted to end things on a better note and maybe have some going away sex.

  Yes, sex was what my damn mind kept coming back to over and over again. Sex, sex, sex. Fucking sex. It was everywhere. It was in the books I read. It was in the shows I watched. It was in the songs I listened to. It was even in the conversations going on all around me. It was like a flashing billboard that I couldn’t get away from. I was still on a first name basis with my vibrator. I even bought a bonus size package of batteries last week after they died mid-session. I wasn’t going to let that happen again.

  If I were being honest with myself, I would admit all this drama was because of Grant Morgan. Running errands for him up to four times a week made it, so I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Especially on Thursdays when I was forced to fold his clothing. And that included his boxer briefs.

  Denial was the way I was going these days, however. I was denying my attraction to him. And I was denying the way he was affecting me. I just kept repeating to myself that I was in control. Me. Not Grant. Not my damn fantasies. Me. And I was going to beat this stupid obsession.

  “You let a sexy, hot guy – who is also a nice guy, by the way – walk out of your life without a fight. What were you thinking?”

  I pulled the phone away from my ear and shook my head. There was a very real possibility that she just blew my eardrum out.

  “What I was thinking is that I like Matt as a friend and nothing more. If moving to Chicago is going to make him happy, then I’m going to support him. I’m sorry you don’t seem to understand that, but not everything in life centers around having a man to take care of you.”

  I waved to Sal, the plump, older doorman in Grant’s building and pushed the button to call the elevator. Once inside, I pressed the button for the twenty-eighth floor and leaned against the wall in hopes that it would give me some mental support as well.

  “You are so dense! Matt was in love with you. You were sleeping with him! How you could not feel more is beyond me! You need to stop being OCD, stop worrying about your mother and actually live a little! Do you remember what that is Elizabeth? Or do I need to remind you?”

  I rolled my eyes and attempted to tamp down my rising ire. I was so sick of being told how my life should be. I
was perfectly content with how things were right now. I didn’t need a man to make me feel better about myself, and I certainly didn’t need to be out at clubs every weekend in order to have a good time. I was too old for that shit. Why couldn’t I just live my life as I please? Between my mom and Maya, I was ready to lose my freaking mind. I did not need a man in my life. I was too damn busy for it. That’s why Matt was so convenient, because I didn’t need to worry about making time for him and expending energies that I just didn’t have in order to make a relationship work. When I was ready to settle down, I would. Until then, my focus would be on building my business and securing my future.

  “Yes, I remember.” The best thing to do was to wait her out. Eventually she would tire herself out, much like a child playing with their toys.

  “E… you broke his heart. He might have been fine last night at the going away party, but he hasn’t been the Matt we all know and love this last month. He was distant and temperamental. He didn’t hang out as much. It was really depressing. Don’t you feel anything for him?” She asked hopefully, and my heart sank. I couldn’t give her the answer that she wanted, even though it hurt my heart to know I did that to Matt.

  “I do care. I never set out to hurt him. I thought we were having a fling. You know… no strings attached sex. He never hinted that he wanted more. I can’t say it wouldn’t have ended differently, but he should have said something sooner. It wasn’t fair for him to lay that on me right after telling me he was moving.”

  Maya sighed into the phone. She knew I made a good point. “I’m sorry. I only have your best interest at heart. And I care about Matt, too.”

  “I know. Now for as much fun as this conversation has been, regretfully I need to go,” I said sarcastically. The elevator dinged, opening up into his private entrance. Turning right, I made my way down the hall to Grant’s apartment while expertly juggling his dry cleaning and a cup of mocha Java coffee – the only drink that allowed me to function anymore.

  “You exhaust me. Fine. Go. But I’m not done with you. I’ll get you to loosen up and start living if it’s the last thing I do.”

  “Yes, mommy dearest. I’ll talk to you later.” Or not, if you’re just going to annoy me again, I thought.

  “Ha ha. Very funny. Love you. Bye.”

  “Bye.” I hung up the phone, stuffed it in my back pocket and inserted my key into the heavy oak door. Walking through the entry into the Great Room, I sighed and set everything down on the dining room table. The view from this place never got old. Two walls were made up of nothing but floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the New York City skyline. It really was a shame that Grant didn’t spend more time enjoying the awesomeness that was his apartment.

  I walked around the table and into the kitchen, admiring how the floor to ceiling windows continued in there as well. My fingers ran along the white, quartz countertops as I made my way to the other side of the room. I found the pad of stationery I kept in one of the drawers of the island and started writing my customary note to Grant.

  Grant – Your dry cleaning is in your closet. Don’t forget the fitting for your new tux is at six o’clock at Georgio’s. Your dad’s birthday is next week. Let me know how much to spend and if you want anything specific. Your Concierge, E.

  I quickly grabbed the dry cleaning and walked back through the entryway to the opposite end of the apartment where the master bedroom was located. His bedroom was just as stunning as the rest of his condo. Two walls of floor to ceiling windows, one across from his low, platform bed with a high, tufted blue headboard and one next to it. Two low, pale gray end tables with modern lamps were on either side of the bed. A pale gray, modern styled divan was against one wall of windows. And across from the bed and against one of the walls of windows was a pale bluish gray matching chair with a side table. Light, hardwood floors ran throughout the room, and a geometric blue and white rug lay underneath the bed. I’d kill to wake up in a room like this.

  Starting in the walk-in closet, I hung up the bag of clothing and made my way through the room, picking up discarded clothing. Sometimes I felt like a maid to these bachelors. Stuffing everything into the linen basket, I picked it up and headed over to the bed.

  I got down on my hands and knees to look under the bed for stray socks. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve found them there. In the last few weeks, I had gotten a routine down with regard to Grant’s needs. I was also having an easier time not thinking about him. After he shocked me by calling me beautiful, I hadn’t heard from or seen him. I had, however, delivered nine more bouquets of flowers – three each week and never to the same woman. I was finding that type of behavior certainly helped in convincing my traitorous hormones that anything dealing with Grant Morgan was a bad idea. It didn’t stop him from starring in my fantasies though. Which might make me all shades of fucked in the head.

  “That’s quite a view,” a deep voice startled me, and I bumped my head on the nightstand when I jumped up quickly and spun around, clutching a pair of black socks to my chest. “I wonder how many more times you’re going to gift me with it. This is twice now, Ms. Ward.”

  My mouth dropped open and my eyes practically bugged out of my head at the sight of Grant standing before me in nothing but a pair of tiny, black boxer briefs. The uncharacteristic scruff on his jaw begged me to lick it, and my mouth watered at the thought of doing just that. Droplets of water still clung to his shoulders and chest. And what a chest it was. It was tanned and oh so very smooth. Each ridge of his pecs and abs was clearly defined. A dark trail of trimmed hair started just below his navel and disappeared under the waistband of his underwear, making me want to follow it and see what treasures it leads to. If the bulge I saw there was anything to go by, it was quite a bountiful prize.

  I’d fantasized about what he looked like underneath his typical three-piece power suits, but never once did those fantasies come anywhere close to touching the real thing. Holy shit. I felt an orgasm coming on just from looking at him. And I was welcoming it with open arms.

  This wasn’t right. It couldn’t be possible. You read this shit in books. You did not live it in real life. It was like he had cast some sort of spell over me, turning me into mush and ramping up my hormones whenever he was around.

  “Have you gotten your fill?” His question jarred me from my blatant ogling, and my cheeks flamed with embarrassment. My eyes darted up to his face guiltily. His eyebrow was quirked and there was an arrogant smirk on his face. Smug bastard.

  “What are you doing home? It’s nearly nine o’clock. You should be at work.” I stammered and stumbled over my words trying to cover the fact that I was ready to start panting after him like a dog in heat. Then I realized I sounded like his wife or his mother and I mentally cringed.

  “I had an unexpected late night last night, so I chose to go in later than usual, if it’s all the same to you.” He continued to undo me by giving me that intense stare. His arms crossed over his chest, and I had to stop myself from checking out his body again.

  An unexpected late night… I knew exactly what that meant. It meant things got a little too wild with his latest conquest. If that wasn’t enough to cool the lust I was just experiencing, nothing was.

  “I see. Well, I was just gathering up your laundry, seeing as it’s Thursday. I’ll let you finish getting ready for work. I left your reminder in the kitchen for you.” I turned to head out of the room, but was stopped by his hand on my arm. It felt hot, like a branding iron on my skin.

  “One last thing.” His gaze drifted down my body, and I silently berated myself for the outfit I was wearing today. Not planning on seeing any clients, I opted for a pair of worn jeans, but luckily not too worn, a white V-neck t-shirt and a pair of Converse sneakers. God, I hoped he didn’t bitch about my attire being unprofessional or scummy.

  “I need you to deliver flowers to someone for me.” He walked over to his nightstand and grabbed a business card. “Lisa Klein is her name, here is her address.”


  I stared down at the card and exhaled slowly. I hated this part of my job, which was ridiculous considering there was nothing personal between Grant and me. I had no right to seethe with jealousy whenever I was asked to get a gift for some woman I’d never met before. For some woman that warmed his bed and pleasured him in ways… that I will never be pleasuring him. Get it out of your head Elizabeth.

  “What would you like the card to read?” I asked, looking up into his gorgeous blue eyes and wishing I wasn’t bitter about getting his latest conquest flowers. He gave me an arrogant and amused look, like he knew I loathed doing this and that I really didn’t want to know what the card should read. And I silently cursed the fact that I was wearing my emotions on my face.

  “A simple ‘Thank you’ should suffice.” And with that he turned and headed towards the walk-in closet.

  I tucked the card in my back pocket and rushed to the laundry room, a complete mess inside. While pouring the soap in the machine and separating his whites and darks, I couldn’t help but let my mind wander to what it would be like to wake up in Grant’s arms. How it would feel to know he was going into work late because of me. And what my reaction would be if I received flowers at work because he was thoroughly impressed with how our night ended.

  “A simple ‘Thank you’ should suffice,” I murmured snottily under my breath and slammed the lid on the washer. What the hell was he thanking her for? For mind-blowing orgasms? For a world class blow job? For putting out and then moving on? Wasn’t that a slap in the woman’s face? And seriously, who the hell sends a thank you card after a one-night stand? Because that was all Grant ever had. He very rarely goes back for seconds. Word on the street was that the ones he did sleep with more than once knew the score and if they forgot it, they might as well forget him. And let’s not forget Corinne. My guess was she somehow fell into the latter category.