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Romeo, Romeo Page 21
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“Nick, I can't find my black bra. Do you know where it is? It was right here the last time I looked.”
The bras that were always hung to dry on a hanger on the shower curtain rod had suddenly disappeared.
Nick stuck his head in the bathroom and smiled that smile. Every time he did that, she ended up late for work. Of course, she walked around all day with a smile on her face. Still, her constant tardiness wasn't setting a good example for the staff.
She should have known better than to walk around with nothing on except her stockings and thong. She was beginning to think she subconsciously planned for him to find her in compromising positions. They both enjoyed the outcome, but why couldn't he ever catch her when she was running early? Probably because they didn't get out of bed until she was already running late. Damn it.
Nick turned the corner and leered. Rosalie crossed her arms over her chest. “Don't look at me in that tone of face. I'm late. Where is my black bra?”
Nick leaned against the doorjamb and smirked. “Do you want the thin one that shows your nipples or that shiny one that accentuates your cleavage?”
Rosalie uncrossed her arms, looked down, and saw that the thin one might cause undue attention. “The shiny one.”
“They're both put away where they belong.”
“What are you talking about?” Rosalie took the hanger off the rod and held it out to him. “This is where they belong.”
“No, sweetheart, that's where you hang them to dry. Then you're supposed to put them away in something called a drawer.”
“Why? They were fine hanging right here, and I always knew where they were. See? Now I have to look in two places.”
“You know, it's a good thing you're so cute when you say things like that. If you weren't, you'd drive me crazy.”
“Don't even go there. You're the one who has me wondering if I'm on the fast track to Bellevue. You're always putting stuff where I can't find it. I spend my life looking for things I swear I'd put down a second ago.”
She walked past Nick into the bedroom and started searching for the drawer he'd designated as the bra drawer.
“Come on, don't tell me you miss coming home to a place that looks as if it has been tossed.”
“Okay, I won't.”
Rosalie slammed a drawer that contained Nick's boxer shorts. Nick opened the one next to it and pulled out her black satiny bra that matched her thong… well, except for the little red bow on the back. The one he was tracing with his fingers. She slapped his hand away. “Stop it, Nick. I have a staff meeting, and it'll look really bad if I'm late… again.”
“It's not my fault you can't resist my body.”
“Don't you have a car to fix or something?”
He wrapped his arms around Rosalie and kissed her shoulder, watching the reflection in the mirror of his dark hands moving over her much lighter stomach.
“Okay, get dressed, and I'll drive you to the express train. Hurry, Dave's already got his leash and is waiting by the door.”
“You're bringing Dave?”
“Yeah, of course. Don't worry; I'll make him ride in the back until I drop you off.”
“You're all heart.” Rosalie slipped a silk shell over her bra and stepped into her skirt. She caught his eye in the mirror as he helped her into her suit jacket.
She stepped into the shoes she'd spent twenty minutes searching for. She still hadn't gotten into the habit of looking in the closet. Who would have thought to look for her shoes where they belonged? Nick waited by the front door, holding her coat. Her briefcase and purse sat on the table beside the door for her to grab on the way out. Odd, since she'd thrown them on the couch Friday.
Nick took Dave's leash out of his mouth and snapped it to his collar. “Get used to it, buddy. No matter how great they are, women always leave a guy cooling his jets by the door.”
“Men.” Rosalie walked out, leaving Nick to lock up, and waited for him by the car, tapping her foot the whole time. He opened her door. Rosalie moved to get in, but Dave snuck past her and jumped in the front seat.
“Dave, get in back until we drop your mom off. Go on, move it.”
Dave whined, moved between the seats, and lay down in back. Nick handed her in before taking the driver's seat.
He started the car and pulled into traffic. “What do you want to do for dinner tonight?”
“I have a late meeting with my boss to give him a status report on Premier Motors. I don't know how long that will take. I'll call you on the way out of the office, okay?”
“Sure. If you want, take the express, and I'll meet you back here. Let me know.”
He pulled up to the curb by the station. They kissed each other good-bye, and Rosalie got out. Dave jumped in the front seat. They were getting better at the whole “'Bye, honey, see you tonight” kissing thing. She waved as Nick reached around Dave and buckled the seat belt. The lunatic.
Rosalie pressed the intercom button, waited for the beep, and spoke. “Gina?” “You rang?”
“Is the computer tech still working in your office?”
“No. He works normal hours. It's after closing time. He's long gone.”
Rosalie had been so preoccupied when she'd returned from her meeting downtown that she'd walked past Gina's desk with a mumbled greeting and hadn't noticed.
“Would you come in here, please?”
A moment later, Gina sashayed in, steno pad in hand, zebra-print stilettos on. The stilettos matched the belt that turned a plain black wraparound into a dress worthy of a sex goddess—which explained why the computer tech had been in Gina's office for at least three hours. Not that Rosalie cared, since Premier was paying the guy by the job, not by the hour, and Gina wasn't one to let work slide. Still, it was painful to watch her toy with a man like a cat with a mouse before making the kill.
“So, did you put the poor guy out of his misery and agree to go out with him?”
Gina sat, kicked off her left stiletto, and curled her leg beneath her. “What? Oh, Gary. We're meeting for drinks after work tomorrow night.” She examined her manicure. “But I don't know. He's really not my type.”
“He's breathing, isn't he?”
“Ha, very funny. What's put you in attack mode today?”
“I'm sorry. You're right. I'm in a bad mood, and I'm taking it out on you. The meeting didn't go well. All I got were more questions I couldn't answer. I keep hitting brick walls. Missing files, incomplete accounting information, and huge holes in the information I've been getting from Mr. Jack Lassiter Jr. Not to mention the rumor that Premier is in worse shape that it actually is. Maybe I'm paranoid, but I can't help feeling as if I've stepped into the middle of a dastardly plan.”
“So what role do you play? Dudley Do-Right, or maybe you're the love interest, Nell?”
“Gina, be serious. We've got a real problem here.”
“I am being serious. Think about it. Who would make the best Snidley Whiplash?” She tapped the side of her head. “Think, think, think. I'd say Jack Jr., but really, I doubt he's smart enough, and why would he want to hurt the company his family started? He'd be cutting off his nose to spite his face. Now, if we were looking for the source of the rumors, you'd have to look for a high roller, someone who has firsthand knowledge of the financial workings of car dealerships. Someone who'd be hot to take over this dealership, if Premier should fold. Hmm… maybe you could ask Nick, just Nick. Oh! Or… maybe it is Nick, just Nick. Say, does he have a mustache and a funny yet evil laugh?”
“Come on, Gina. Talk about grasping for straws. Nick knows how much this job means to me. He'd never hurt me like that.
“Rosalie, you're thinking like a girlfriend, not a busines's woman.”
Rosalie shook her head no, but Gina was right. Damn, how embarrassing.
“A man would never look at this situation and think of the CFO's feelings. He'd see it as business—which would give him free rein to destroy anything and anyone in his way.”
Well, yeah. But
that doesn't mean he'd target the business his girlfriend is supposed to be saving—even if it is the most prestigious car dealership in Manhattan. Damn, this was so not looking good. What car guy wouldn't want to own the Ferrari dealership?
“You can be sure Nick the Dick would see you as his lover in the bedroom, his adversary in the boardroom, and never the twain shall meet. How do you think he got to be so successful? By being a nice guy and making sure he didn't hurt anyone's feelings? Wake up and smell the exhaust fumes.”
“Drop it, Gina. It's not Nick.” Oh, man, it better not be Nick, because if it was, she'd kill him.
“Fine. But you have to admit, it makes sense. Who else would have that kind of clout? Nick Romeo deals with every automobile financing company known to man, and every bank either has a piece of his business or would do anything to get it. One well-placed word from a player like Nick Romeo, and a schmuck like Junior would be persona non grata. Hell, some would deny Lassiter credit, just to score points with Nick Romeo.”
“Okay, Gina. Let's just say you're right. How could Nick control what goes on inside Premier?
“Maybe he can't. Maybe there's more than one culprit. Maybe they're working together. Stranger things have happened.”
“Then it's definitely not Nick. He's not much of a team player.” Well, at least, not in his personal life.
“The only employee who has a grudge against Premier that I know of is Jack Jr., which is a given. You take over a man's job, and he's going to get his feelings hurt. Junior couldn't have been happy to be demoted. If he wasn't the son of the founder, he'd be out of a job.”
Rosalie fought off a sudden chill as she pictured Jack Lassiter, Jr. “The guy creeps me out. He gives off really bad vibes.”
Gina nodded. “Yeah, he's your typical past-his-prime playboy who hasn't come to grips with his thinning hair, his expanding waistline, and his several chins. He's still a legend in his own mind. He's got a wife, a mistress, and he's looking to cheat on both.”
“He hasn't made a play for you, has he?”
“Of course, he has. And he did it less than an hour after we got here. But you know me; I handled it.
“Oh, I have no doubt of that.”
“So far, all I've learned about Jack Jr. is that compared to him, a pet rock would look like a member of Mensa. I copied all the files I could off his secretary Randi's computer our first day here, before he had time to tell her to clean the hard drive. After he left that first day, it took me all of fifteen minutes to pull up every deleted memo, letter, and financial record on his computer.”
“Gina—”
“You don't think I need those computer geeks we hire, do you?”
“Geez, Gina.” Rosalie didn't know whether to be angry or impressed.
“What can I say? I have a thing for men with pocket protectors. Bad hair and glasses turn me on. I have X-rated dreams starring Bill Gates. It's a sickness.”
“What did you find?”
“Oh, you know, the usual. There were a ton of poor management decisions, but that's not news. If not for idiots like him, we'd be looking for work. Junior was robbing Peter to pay Paul when it came to making the minimum inventory and parts purchases to keep from losing the several dealerships they still have. But that's typical of any company with a poor debt-to-income ratio. There's hanky-panky with the sexatary—expensive lunch dates, which, upon closer inspection, turned out to be room service meals. The room rates were expensed as parking costs, which, when you think about it, makes a sick kind of sense.”
“There was nothing else?”
“I'm not sure. There's a steady stream of cash flowing to one particular body shop, without much of a paper trail. I'm looking into it.”
“Talk to his secretary. She can't be all that happy her married boyfriend/boss has been demoted, especially if you let it slip that he's been chasing you around the desk for the last three months. All the perks she's gotten from dating him have been taken away. After seeing Jack Jr., why else would anyone sleep with him, especially someone who looks like Randi? Let me know what you find out.”
Gina nodded and made a note on her steno pad. “What about Mr. Lassiter Sr.? Where does he fit in?”
“I'm not exactly sure. I would think he has a good picture of where the company stands, since he's one of the Board members who hired us. Premier's precarious financial position couldn't have come as a shock. My guess is, the old man hired us to pick up the pieces of a failing company and get it moving in the right direction before he goes for a quick sale.”
“If Lassiter's looking for a quick sale, why wouldn't the saboteur simply buy the company? Why take the time and trouble to put them out of business?”
“Good question. Maybe it's personal.” Rosalie made notes. Missing/incomplete information; rumors-* Nick? “Okay, so who's the source of the rumors, or is it two individuals we're up against?”
Gina sat back down. “I don't know, Rosalie.” She snapped her fingers. “Damn, I left my crystal ball at home today. Perhaps we can look in it tomorrow, and it will give us all the answers. Or, maybe you can get information from Nick, just Nick.”
“I can't. He doesn't know I know who he is.”
“What? You've been sleeping with the man for the last three months, and neither of you have come clean yet?”
Rosalie put her elbows on the desk and dropped her head in her hands. “No.”
“That's one more strike against him. He may be keeping his identity from you so that you won't suspect him.”
“Yeah, I thought of that, too.”
“Well, are you going to finally confront him?”
“No. I'm not going to say anything unless he does first.”
“Wow, that's real mature.”
Rosalie sat back and firmly put on her woman-in-charge persona. “Gina, if he's the one who's the source of the rumors and possibly has ties to someone inside, do we really want to let him know we're on to him?”
Gina blew her hair out of her eyes, stood, and locked gazes with Rosalie. “Is that the only reason you're not confronting him? Or are you waiting for him to confess all and beg for forgiveness?”
Well, yeah, that, too, but she'd take that little factoid to her grave. Rosalie stared Gina down until her assistant gave in, looked away, and strode out the door without another word.
Rosalie picked up the phone and dialed Nick.
Nick closed his cell phone. Rosalie was late. She didn't know when she'd be home, and she sounded stressed and exhausted. Nick rubbed Dave's head, which was resting on his lap, and looked around the apartment.
“Come on, boy. Let's go get something for dinner. We'll surprise your mom when she gets home.” Dave waited by the door with his tail wagging.
They headed to Vinny's restaurant and went in through the back door.
Vinny turned around, eyeing Nick and Dave. He pointed at Dave and wagged his finger. “You keep that mutt outta my kitchen.”
“You know, Dave has better manners than you do. Don't talk about him that way.” Nick widened his stance, because Dave had begun leaning on his leg. He'd learned from experience that, unless you were prepared, when Dave leaned all the way—you fell over. “Dave, down.”
Dave gave him one of his you-gotta-be-kidding looks.
“You want a meatball, you behave.”
Dave lay down at the threshold to the kitchen, and Nick stepped over him.
“I need dinner, something nice. It sounds as if Lee's had an awful day. I'm not sure when she'll be home, so it has to be something that will keep.”
Vin flipped something in a frying pan and set it down on the stove. “What do I look like, the freaking Barefoot Contessa? I hear she lives in the Hamptons; you want I should give you directions? Oh, right, you know how to get there. You got a freakin' house out there. So why are you here bugging me?”
“Come on, Vin, I just want to… I don't know… make Lee feel better, you know?” “I know you got it bad. That's what I know.” “Cut it out, Vin.”
“Cut it out, Vin,” he parroted back. “Nino, I need two chicken cacciatores to go, give them extra pasta, and throw in a half-dozen meatballs for the mutt. Oh, and box up a few cannolis while you're at it. Nick and I are going to step into my office.”
Nick looked over at Dave, who had fallen asleep. “Nino, keep an eye on Dave for me, okay?”
“Sure, sure. I keep an eye on everything. I cook, I clean, I dog sit. Go. Go!”
Nick followed Vinny to his office off the kitchen. Vin sat behind the desk, spun around in his chair, and reached for a bottle of Jack Daniels. “You want whiskey or wine?”
“Neither. What do you need, Vin?”
“I'm just looking out for my baby cousin—”
“Come on, I'm no baby, and you know it.”
Vinny poured a glass of Jack for himself and rolled it around the glass, sniffed it, then took a sip. “Ah… Okay, here's what I need to say. I think you're getting in over your head with this girl. You're going to end up with a broken heart if you don't watch out.”
“Oh, right. Have you ever seen me get attached to a woman?”
“No, but then you've never come to the restaurant wanting to bring a woman a nice dinner because she's had a lousy day, either. Matter-of-fact, if some chick you were seeing had a lousy day, you were either the reason her day was lousy or running as fast as you could in the opposite direction.”
“Lee is different. She doesn't try to trick me, and she's not after my money. She's not one of those women who make you prove you care by expecting you to jump through hoops like a toy poodle. Lee is fun and nice, and she's low maintenance. When I do something for her, she's floored. When she smiles, it means so much more because it's real. She's real.”
“Like I said, you got it bad.”
Nick shook his head. “You've been drinking too much. Lee and I have a good time together. So what? I like her.”
“Oh, how the mighty have fallen.” Vinny took a sip of his drink and leaned back in his chair. “Now listen up, I'm only going to say this once. That way when you're in bad shape after having your heart stomped on and shoved down your throat, I won't have to kick you when you're down.” He leaned forward, as if he were about to pass along a golden tidbit of age-old wisdom. “Dominick Romeo, what did I tell you? You never listen to me. See, I told you she'd break that heart of yours. I told you this would happen, remember?”