Chapter One
Present Day
“I have an appointment with Christien Chevalier.” Lainie Alexander boldly looked into the skeptical eyes of the man guarding the doors to The Chevalier—the most popular nightclub in Milwaukee.
“Right.” He crossed beefy arms over a barrel chest and cocked a cynical eyebrow.
“I’m serious. Our appointment’s in fifteen minutes.”
The bouncer resembled a large block of wood with a shaved head and pool-table legs.
And when he stared her down with those narrowed, beady eyes, like he was doing now, he was intimidating.
But Lainie tried not to let the intimidation affect her.
She squared her shoulders and hiked her purse up on her shoulder.
“I’m not making this up.” The line of people behind her muttered. They hadn’t exactly been nice since she bypassed them and marched to the front of the line. She ignored them, hoping a lynch mob wasn’t forming.
“Mr. Chevalier didn’t mention no appointment.”
“Maybe it slipped his mind.”
The other eyebrow went up. “You don’t know him, do you?”
She shifted her weight to her other aching foot.
The four inch heels with peek-a-boo toes were cutting the circulation off her feet and she seriously regretted wearing them.
Her navy business suit and white silk blouse weren’t exactly clubbing clothes either.
Next to the others in line she stuck out like a sore thumb.
But she wasn’t here to club. She was here on business.
Business she was going to be late for if this meathead didn’t let her in.
“No, we’ve never met, but I assure you we have an appointment.”
“What sort of appointment?”
She wasn’t sure she liked the insinuation of his words or his look, but she chose to ignore them. Angering the gatekeeper wouldn’t get her closer to the man she needed to see. And if she didn’t get what she came for, her boss would be on her like white on rice.
“I have papers for him to sign.” She dug in her briefcase, pulled out a manila envelope and waved it in his face.
He didn’t even glance at it. “If you want in, you wait in line like everyone else.”
Her hand paused in midwave. She glanced at the line snaking down the street and disappearing around the corner. “You can’t be serious.”
“Never been more serious.”
A laughing, boisterous group exited the club and two more entered. She cast a sideways glance at the bouncer and edged toward the door.
“Don’t even think it.”
She sighed in exasperation. Obviously she needed to resort to plan B. “Mr. Chevalier will be very angry if you don’t let me in. He’s expecting these papers and I’m sure there will be…consequences if I’m late.”
“Look, lady, you’re not on the list. Go to the back of the line and wait like everyone else.”
“But—”
His steely-eyed glare had her backing up a step, causing her feet to weep in misery. “I’ll be in that line an hour and our meeting is in fifteen minutes.”
He made a production of peering at the long line. “At least an hour.”
She glared at him. “At least tell him I’m here.”
He shook his head, looking more annoyed than amused.
Behind her the crowd’s muttering grew louder and angrier. People who at first laughed at her attempts were now glaring at her. She took another step back and retreated to the end of the line where she couldn’t even see the entrance.
All around her the crowd joked and laughed, hooked up with others, broke apart and hooked up again.
She opened the manila envelope and leafed through the papers for Chevalier’s phone number.
If she called and reminded him, she wouldn’t have to wait and her aching feet would get a break and she could get what she needed and go home and get to bed.
But there wasn’t a phone number. In fact, his name wasn’t even on any of the papers.
Strange, but what did she know. Her expertise wasn’t in contracts.
She was merely the assistant to the director of Human Resources.
She had no idea why Giselle had sent her on this errand and it wasn’t her place to ask.
No one questioned Giselle. To do so would unleash her wrath and Lainie had learned to avoid Giselle’s anger at all cost.
She pulled her cell phone out and found the club’s number through directory assistance but all she got was a busy signal.
With a heavy sigh she resigned herself to waiting and hoped Chevalier wouldn’t be angry.
After all, it was his employee who wouldn’t let her in.
She glared down the line but the bouncer was out of sight.
It didn’t take an hour to get to the front.
It took fifty-eight minutes. Fifty-eight minutes of torture standing in her uncomfortable heels.
Fifty-eight minutes of hitting Redial and getting a busy signal.
Fifty-eight minutes of shivering in the cool April night because she didn’t wear a coat.
She didn’t think she needed a coat to acquire one, measly signature.
The bouncer smiled when she finally made it to the entrance. “Twenty bucks.”
She laughed, but when he didn’t her laugh trailed off. “Twenty bucks for what?”
“To get in.”
She gritted her teeth and barely managed to grab on to her runaway anger. “But I told you I have an appointment.”
“You’re not on the list. Twenty bucks or you don’t get in.”
“This is ridiculous.”
The man shrugged and turned his attention to the person behind her.
“Fine.” She dug in her purse and pulled out a twenty dollar bill, slapping it into his outstretched hand. “Do I get a receipt for tax purposes?” She couldn’t help the nasty tone in her voice. She was beyond being civil to this barbarian.
He smiled, folded the twenty into a thick roll of bills and shoved it in his pocket.
Lainie sighed and bit back her frustration. “How do I find Mr. Chevalier?”
“Not my problem.”
She turned on her heel and attempted to stomp into the club but her feet were in agony and the most she managed was a graceful limp.
Loud techno-pop music vibrated through the soles of her feet and swirling lights had her blinking a few times.
The place was packed with writhing bodies bumping and grinding to the beat of the music.
This was only Thursday. She couldn’t imagine what Friday and Saturday were like.
Chevalier sure knew what he was doing when he opened this place.
She made her way to the edge of the room and sidled closer to the bar.
Maybe the bartender would know where to find him.
She had to slip between two men who looked her up and down before dismissing her.
Any other time she might have been offended, but tonight she didn’t care.
She just wanted to get home and put on her comfortable sweats and make a bag of microwave popcorn.
The bartender was all dark hair and dark eyes and a smile that would melt a woman’s heart. “What can I get you?” he yelled above the music.
She had to practically drape herself over the bar in order for him to hear her. “I’m looking for Mr. Chevalier.”
He barked out a laugh. “You and everyone else. What’re you drinking?”
Lainie wanted to put her head down in defeat, but defeat wasn’t in her vocabulary. She’d been given this task and she’d accomplish it even if it killed her. As it was, she was pretty sure she was going to lose a toe or two.
The person next to her slid off the barstool and Lainie jumped up on it, relieved to finally sit.
She placed her briefcase in her lap and slid a shoe off to massage the feeling back into her foot.
She nearly closed her eyes in ecstasy. “I have an appointment with Chevalier,” she told the bartender. “Do you know where he is?”
“I don’t know anything about his appointments. There’s a two-drink minimum. What’ll you have?”
Lainie just barely refrained from pulling her hair out. “I’ll take an ice water with lemon.”
“Water isn’t part of the two drink minimum.” He shot her a look that said duh.
She had a feeling drinks here were at least ten bucks a pop. She didn’t have ten dollars to spare on a watered-down drink. Especially after paying to get in.
“Give me a water to start with while I look at the drink menu.” Liar. Apparently the bartender agreed because he shook his head, but he disappeared to get her water.
She swiveled around to search the crowd. Someone here had to know where Chevalier was.
One of the men she’d squeezed between pointed to the dance floor. “That’s him there.”
“Who?”
“Chevalier. You said you were looking for him.”
Quickly she slipped on her shoe and slid off the stool.
Throwing a “thank you” back to the stranger, she hiked the strap of her purse over her shoulder and was preparing to plow through the crowd when she spotted him.
At least she thought it was him. It had to be.
No one else wore such an exquisitely cut suit or commanded the attention he did.
The people around him kept a respectful distance, creating a bubble of calm amid the frenzy of the dancing.
He was speaking to a curvaceous blonde wrapped in a tight silver dress that stopped about two inches below her butt. One hand was on her shoulder, the other in the air as if he’d been in the act of pointing something out to her when his gaze locked with Lainie’s.
Something inside her stilled even as her heart accelerated and her stomach churned.
His mouth snapped shut and his arm dropped to his side. The blonde leaned close and spoke in his ear. He didn’t respond, just continued to stare at Lainie.
Lainie’s breath caught in her throat and something very close to anxiety squeezed her insides. Her hands began to sweat and she had this incredible urge to turn around and walk out. The crowd moved again and blocked her view. The feeling left and she shook her head. Weird.
She pushed her way through the densely packed crowd, hoping Chevalier wouldn’t disappear again when suddenly a large form blocked her way.
“Hey there.”