The Plan - Chances & Choices Prequel (2 page)

“I...I would, but...”

“Now don’t worry about the plate price, my dear.  The committee are happy to offer you a place out of respect for your father, but I do have a bit of a favour to ask.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, I would like you to accompany a friend of ours.  His wife died last year and he needs someone who is used to attending these gatherings.  I think you would be just right.”

Claire thought about it.  Did she want to go enough to spend the time with some old guy who could be really boring or maybe worse?  Yes, seemingly she did because the words left her lips before she could stop them.

“Sure, that would be fine.”

“Oh good, I am glad.  I think you might be a comfort to each other.  His name is Julian.  I’ll give him your number to confirm and make arrangements.”

In typical Andrea fashion, she hung up before Claire could ask anymore.  Julian who?  The name did seem to have a vague familiarity.  Oh well, she’d find out soon enough.  The ball was only a week away.

Chapter Four

Fading Scent

Julian stood in front of his closet mirror telling himself this was the right decision and could work as part of the plan.  Andrea and Stephen were right; he needed to get back in the flow.  These events were important to any business, but as a designer of haute couture, it was essential he attend.  As a Hollywood star, Susanna’s attendance was always mandatory and she had loved this charity. 

He could never quite believe it when they would move around together in this room, dressing to attend these events.  He’d stand in front of the mirror, looking at the reflection of his outrageously sexy, gorgeous wife, and wonder how he ever got so lucky.  It was a fairytale come true.  The perfect romance.

Only now, he had to cope with the tragic ending.  He had to get on with going through the motions.  Eventually the motions would feel real and life would fall into place again.  Or at least that is what the literature told him, but he knew he was never going to forget, he was going to keep the memory of how he felt now, stored and ready always, so he could never make the same mistake.

If he closed his eyes, he could still feel her press her breasts against his back, just like she did that first moment when they met, just before he turned and saw his own overpowering emotions mirrored in her beautiful, soulful, brown eyes.  Walking over to the the closet, he lifted the the shawl draped around the hanger. He hesitated for a moment and then allowed himself the forbidden luxury of burying his face in her scent.  He sunk into it and felt panic. Her scent was less today, just as it was every day.  Gradually it would fade and soon, far too soon, he would lose this part of her as well.

He struggled with the panic, pushing it away, getting used to the feeling of being without her, of not feeling, not reacting.  He looked down at his hand still holding the shawl.  His ring was still there, mocking him.  In a fit of determination, he pulled the ring from his finger, walked over to his dresser and dropped it into the small chest that held his limited accessories, his cufflinks and watches.  It dropped in with a metallic clunk of finality and he closed the lid with purpose.  There was a band of pale skin where the ring had been and he rubbed it vigorously as if that would turn it the same colour as the rest of his finger.

Moving through the beach house, he closed the sliding doors leading to the Pacific Ocean and walked out through the raised dining room to the garage.  Just before pulling the car out into the highway, he texted the late Liam Fitzpatrick’s daughter to let her know he was on his way.  Claire. A sophisticated name for a young girl.  Nineteen.  How the hell was he going to manage to entertain a nineteen year old for the evening?  She sounded okay on the phone, not a giggly teenager.  Young women were more knowledgeable and confident these days. 
Shit, listen to yourself, West. You sound like an old man.  Young women these days.  Lighten up.

Chapter Five

Running Late

Claire saw Julian’s text and panicked. 
Shit
.  She wasn’t ready yet and he would be here in half an hour!  Running around frantically in her underwear, she left her hair halfway through blow-drying and went to pull on her dress and do her make-up.  Twenty-five minutes later, Julian texted her, as they agreed, to say he was five minutes away.  Well at least he was considerate.  It was part of being a widower, probably, remembering his husbandly training and honouring it carefully in deference to his passed wife.  Her father was the same.  Her heart contracted at the thought of her tall, handsome father.  How she missed him.

It had always been just the two of them.  She had encouraged him to meet women.  She was desperate as a young kid, always trying to match make, like one of those syrupy kids from a Disney movie.  But, Liam Fitzpatrick had been too happy in his first marriage, had spent too many years in the company of the woman he loved to distraction, to look anywhere else.  Her memory was all he wanted, along with her, Claire, their unexpected treasure, gifted to them late in life.  He had always told her that she was his special present, sent to help him cope with the early loss of his Mary.  Claire had few memories of her mother and although she missed a woman in her life, she never felt incomplete; her father showered her with so much love.  His loss, more sudden than she expected, left a massive, gaping hole.

She hoped going to the ball wasn’t a mistake, that she would hold it together and not fall apart when confronted with a setting and situation where she was so used to his presence.  For once, she was grateful to Andrea Saunders.  Attending with someone who had also recently lost a loved one was a good move.  That way if either of them got wobbly, the other would understand, there would be no need for awkward explanations.

She jumped when the buzzer sounded.  Shit she had no time to put her hair in the upswept style she usually wore for these occasions.  It made her look older and more capable of holding her own.  She looked in the mirror.  Drying naturally, her massive mane of golden hair was draped in unruly waves around her.  Along with plunge neckline of her sleeveless, gold dress, it made her look wilder and sexier than she usually did.  Not that she usually looked wild and sexy; she was much more the cool blonde.  It covered the backless portion of her outfit, which was disappointing as she felt it was one of her better features and chose the dress for that reason.  Never mind.  Too late now.

She walked to the door intercom to let her escort for the evening up and was surprised to see a much younger man than she expected in the camera feed.  He also looked faintly familiar.  The cameras were old so a bit blurry.  It was hard to make out all his features.  She would be able to recognize him better when he arrived at the door.  She pressed the intercom.

“Is that you, Julian?”

“Yes.”  His voice sounded a bit tight, awkwardness at meeting someone new, probably.

“Come on up.”  She pressed the door release.

She put on her evening sandals, collected her bag and opened the door.  She was surprised to see he was just rounding the steps leading to her apartment on the second floor.  He hadn’t taken the elevator and was bounding up them with purpose. Was it her imagination or…was he annoyed?  He certainly had a dark expression on his face and his hazel, or were they green, eyes were flashing a bit.  He took the last step and moved towards her.  He seemed about to say something, but then just stopped in his tracks in front of her.

She stopped herself.

Wow!

Chapter Six

Bossy

Wow! Wow!

Again.  Wow!

Standing in front of her was the most beautiful, drop-dead gorgeous man she had ever seen or probably would ever see.  Movie stars paled in comparison.  Looking up, she noted that his eyes were green, a startling emerald green, nothing as indiscriminate as hazel.  He stood at least 6’2” or 6’3” and weighed in at around 210lbs.   He was lean, but he was built.  The material of his traditional black tuxedo jacket stretched across his broad shoulders and she couldn’t help notice the muscles in his long legs rippled as he moved swiftly to reach her.  He clearly worked out and moved with an animal grace that was mesmerizing.  He was an Adonis.

That was it!  She remembered now.  Why he was familiar.

A quick flash of his detached figure at the window, the sun streaming in through the glass behind him.  Julian. 
Julian West
.  The tabloids and ezines were always full of him and even more so since his wife died.  Julian West, too handsome, toy boy of the late Susanna Ainsley.

Like hell.  This beautiful man was no boy.

She had first seen him over eighteen months ago at another event with her father.  He had been standing apart at the window poignantly removed from the crowd.  His presence drew her gaze to him, entrancing her.  Later she overheard a conversation that his wife was dying and his mood became clear.  Now, here he was, the young widower of a screen legend. A Greek god come to earth, standing at her apartment door.

Standing and starting to look a little pissed at her, maybe even a lot pissed.  She got the distinct impression she had done something to displease him.  She was amazed at how that disturbed her.  She found herself wanting to please him.  And he was standing very close to her, looking more pissed and a bit scary as the minutes passed.  She thought he was annoyed as he rounded the stairs, but when he saw her, his expression changed and he looked at her a little dazedly for a few minutes, like she was the last thing he expected to see.  She even thought that maybe he was admiring her.  If so, the admiration was fleeting because now he was definitely pissed.

He undid the lower button of his expertly cut tuxedo jacket, slipped his hands into his pants pockets and looked down at her with narrowed eyes.  He made her feel tiny, which considering Claire was 5’6” and always wore at least four inch heels and tonight  was wearing five inch ones, was not that easy.  He definitely had presence.

“Did you know what I was supposed to look like before you looked in the intercom?” He growled.

“No.”  She shook her head, even more mesmerized.  No one had ever growled at her before.  It sounded sexy, scary, but sexy.

“So, when you asked if I was Julian, I could have been anyone for all you knew.”

“Ye…  Oh!”  The reason he was pissed sinking in.

“Yes, you gave me the name you were expecting, instead of waiting for me to say it.  Not very safe.  You are a beautiful, young woman, living alone.  You should be more careful.”

Claire felt she should probably get all feminist and be pissed at him for his high-handedness.  Except he was right, it was a stupid move.  Besides, he just told her she was beautiful.  Plus he was gorgeous.  She decided he could be as high-handed as he liked.

She looked up at him and adopted the penitent look that always worked with her father and others.  Not that he made her feel remotely like her father had made her feel.

“Sorry. I’ll try to be more careful.”

He relaxed and grinned at her, but there was still some steel in his look and tone.  “Don’t try that with me.  It might have worked on your adoring father, but I was married to an award-winning actress.  I know when I am being played.  Don’t
try
to be more careful. 
Be
more careful.  Do
not
do that again. Understood?”

Oh. My. God.  No way did he make her feel the way her father did when he corrected her.  Or when anyone else lectured her. Not her teacher.  Not her prof at college.  No.  Not.  At.  All.  She never felt all wobbly legged or hot when anyone else set her straight.  Who knew being told off could be such a turn on?  Who knew she liked bossy? Bossy with class and a touch of humour, but bossy just the same.

She closed the door to her apartment and watched as he checked the lock and then placed his hand at the small of her back to lead her to the elevator.

“You always this bossy?” She asked testing the waters with a sideways, sexy little smile.

“With naughty girls? Yes.”  His smile was sardonic and he raised his eyebrow.

Oh no, he found her attempts at flirting amusing.  Not a turn on, just amusing. All Claire’s insecurities kicked in. Now, she felt foolish. Trying to ignore the tightening in her pelvis, she decided she should take his teasing advice.

“Be a good girl and I‘ll lighten up.”

Girl.
 
Of course, he thought of you as just a girl.
 

He had been married to a mature woman, one of the most alluring film stars in Hollywood.  Plus, he was a Greek god.  What was she thinking, trying to flirt with him? He probably thought of her as just a kid.  She dropped her eyes from his and bit her lip in embarrassment, cursing the light complexion she knew would fail to hide the blush spreading across her neck and face.

Christ
.  What was he thinking, embarrassing the kid like that, watching her bite her lip and the quick blush. No wonder she couldn’t look at him.  She probably thought he was a pervert.  He was so used to Susanna getting hot when he did her bossy, he forgot not all women were into that kind of thing.  Especially not the sheltered, nineteen year old daughter of a friend of a friend – because Liam Fitzpatrick would have sheltered his daughter.  A-nineteen year old girl who Andrea had entrusted to him
.  Hell, you fell into your dominant lecture mode and then used the naughty girl code on her.
 
At least you didn’t get totally out of line and threaten her with a spanking.

He did feel he could be forgiven for forgetting she was so young and responding to her as a man to a woman.  She was stunning.  She didn’t look like a kid.  He had taken the stairs two at a time when she pulled that stunt with the intercom.  He could have been anyone and she let slip his name and buzzed him up without any real sense of safety. He expected to see a young girl and had planned to give her a lecture on good security practices for real, not slip in to scene speak.