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Deep blue eyes meet mine. He’s wearing a T-shirt, blue jeans, and a smile. One of his charmer smiles that he tops with a wink.
“Fuck,” I whisper, as I lick the plum salt from the rim of my cocktail off my lips. His smile fades and eyes darken at the sight of my tongue. Knowing I must have the same sort of effect on him as he does on me makes me want to be reckless. Makes me want to fist his T-shirt and haul him against me in front of God and the creepy-ass devil baby mural. With just one look, my resolve crumbles, and my survival instincts scream at me that I will die if I don’t get Chase between my legs, and fast.
“Hi! You must be Campbell!” A bright, cheerful voice snaps me out of my illicit daydream.
To Chase’s right is a young woman, currently bouncing on the balls of her feet and sticking out her hand for me to shake.
“Um, hello.” I put my hand in hers only to have it pumped enthusiastically.
“I’ve heard so much about you. I’m so glad you could meet us for drinks.”
“Drinks?” My brain doesn’t seem able to compute what’s happening, my eyes locking on this woman’s arm threaded through Chase’s. My first thought? I could take her. My second? He talks about me? The third? What the fuck had he been doing letting me kiss him in an elevator when he has a girlfriend?
“Yes, my sister Liz here, has been quite interested in meeting you.” Chase’s knowing smile says he read my thoughts.
Jerk.
I plaster on a smile, now recognizing her from the family picture on Chase’s desk. “Then I am delighted to meet you.” I think back on what she said. “You were expecting me?”
Chase butts in. “I may have asked Alice about your evening plans.”
Liz scoffs. “You mean you called Campbell’s hotel room and when she didn’t answer you drove there and knocked on her door. And when she didn’t answer that, you called Alice and demanded to know where she was.” Chase shoots his sister a look. She glances to the side, mumbling, “Just saying.”
I’m not sure what to say here. I’m an only child, so the antics between siblings confuse me. Is Liz being truthful, or just messing with her brother? I decide not to touch on this.
“Why don’t we get a table?” Chase gestures behind him to the lone vacant four-top in the bar.
Not wanting to be rude, especially in the face of a bubbly youth like Liz, I hop down from my seat. But before I get very far, Liz grabs my arm.
“Oh my god, your boots! Amaze-balls,” she says, looking down.
Thinking I’d be on my own tonight, I’d simply worn jeans, a tank, and my boots. They were a thank-you present from Cavendish’s when I got their profits up and store expansion going. Cognac-colored leather, inlays of red and black birds along with white flowers and green leaves. The vintage boots were hand-tooled with a snipped toe and cost more than my new Jimmy Choos.
Though I love the city, I adore my cowboy boots. Some things you just can’t change about a Southern girl.
I stick out my heel to give her a better look at the intricate stitching. “Thank you. They were a gift from a client after a job well done.”
“I’ll have to think of something equally as cool then, for what you’re doing for Moore’s,” Chase says, guiding us toward the table.
“Slow your roll, cowboy,” I tease, sliding into my seat, cocktail in hand. “You already had your team put together a welcome package.” I squint in an overexaggerated glare in his direction before shrugging. “And, besides, I haven’t done much yet.”
“But you will,” Liz pipes up. “Chase told me all your plans. I think it’s just what the family store needs.”
Calling the extravagance of Moore’s a family store has me smiling. As does Liz. She’s bouncy. There’s no other word for it as she literally bounces on the seat of her chair. Her long blond hair is up in a messy bun, the escaped strands swaying with each bounce. She has on a cute cotton sundress with sandals and no makeup. All of it seems very casual, but I can see the quality of the clothes. And I may have seen those sandals in InStyle magazine captioned with a price tag of eight hundred and fifty bucks.
“I’m at a distinct disadvantage then,” I tell her. “You know everything about me, and all I know is that your name is Liz and you have the unfortunate reality of being Chase Moore’s sister.” I throw my own wink at Chase, who blinks in surprise. Take that, pretty boy. “Tell me all about yourself, Liz.”
I let the young woman’s words wash over me as she explains about her graduate degree in art history and her interest in abstract painting, at the same time sneaking looks at Chase out of my peripheral vision while pretending to studiously ignore him.
What can I say? I’m good at multitasking.
“You’ll have to come by Moore’s and tell me if you have any ideas for the displays. You’re a shareholder, and with your background in art, I’m sure you’d have great insight. I recently acquired a display dresser, but she’s new at it. She has a great eye, though.”
Chase laughs. “Yes, my former shoe salesman, Alice.”
“Saleswoman, brother. Let’s not be sexist, now.”
“Heaven forbid.” Chase holds up his hands in surrender.
