Chapter 14 #2
“It was more a challenge for myself than anything,” he said. “I told her I could make any color lipstick she wanted and it just sort of went from there.”
“What was the original color?” Claire asked.
“It was called Blush Violet.”
“And you created an exact replica?”
“It’s about a ninety-nine percent match and named after the woman who inspired me—All About Eve. My father begged me to call it One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. He thought we’d lost our minds.”
Jay settled up with the server while Claire took a detour into the ladies’ room. The night was closing too fast. She washed her hands and studied her face, noting two things. The dress had been a wise choice, and nothing could mask the shine of wine on her cheeks.
Jay stood waiting at the door. They walked down the street arm in arm, stopping from time to time to peer into the darkened store fronts in the quiet shopping district.
Several empty cabs rolled by, but he made no attempt to wave one down.
When a poster in a store window caught her eye, she stopped and released his arm.
"There she is again.” She pointed to the image. “Our man in Negril was good, but there’s a real pianist."
"One of the greatest ever," Jay agreed.
"She’s performing here next week."
“Have you ever seen her perform live?”
“No. Have you?” Claire asked.
“Many times,” Jay said. “Even met her.”
“You’ve met Nancy Chen?” Claire’s eyes widened.
“On several occasions.”
“Let me guess… you made a lipstick just for her?”
“I did.” He poked her in the rib. “It’s called The Sound of Music.”
“You really should stop while you’re ahead,” she said with a flirty grin. “Because I don’t believe a word you’re saying.”
“If you keep smiling at me like that, I might create a lipstick just for you.”
He closed the gap between their bodies and wrapped his arms around her waist. His eyes reflected city lights, wine, and a desire for something more.
“And just what would you call this Claire Jordan-inspired creation?” She looked up at him, wondering if his heart beat as frantically as her own.
He pressed his lips against hers, creating an even greater rush than she’d expected. They stood locked for a full minute exploring each other’s mouths before he pulled away.
“Some Like It Hot,” he whispered with another smile.
Claire's mind and pulse raced simultaneously. She leaned into him for another taste of his lips, but he drew back and made an offer she couldn’t refuse. A chance to see the newest line of Silver Screen products back at his apartment. With nothing but green flags thus far, she agreed.
They made a quick stop at the hotel to retrieve his tuxedo jacket before flagging down a cab.
Jay's hand had once again found hers and he rubbed her thumb with a gentle, soothing touch. The gesture gave Claire a soft reassurance that she hadn't crossed a line with her after-dinner discussion of his recent loss. It also trapped her in a web of guilt. She’d yet to utter Calvin’s name. Maybe that was for the best.
“Let me warn you now—the Taj Mahal it’s not.” He glanced at her as the cab stopped in front of a gorgeous converted red-brick mansion. “This is the opposite of judging a book by its cover.”
“Really? It looks magnificent.”
“It’s a tiny apartment I keep for business travel,” he said. “I can’t emphasize tiny enough. But it’s clean, convenient, and all I need.”
They took the elevator up to his floor and he ushered her inside his flat.
"Well, this is it. A little bare bones," he announced.
"If this is your idea of tiny, then let me just say that I live in a rabbit hutch in comparison." She stepped out of her heels and dropped her jacket and purse in a neat pile on a sleek gray settee.
"Something to drink?" he asked, loosening his tie.
"No, thank you."
“Tea? Coffee? Anything?” He removed his jacket and tossed it over the back of his sofa, then emptied the contents of his pockets onto the coffee table—wallet, keys, phone, and the like.
“Stop wasting time, Avery. Just bring on the goods like you promised,” she demanded playfully.
“Wow, you make one little offer of free product…” he said with an eye roll.
Jay motioned with his hand, and Claire followed him down a short hallway lined with three doors.
“You’re not about to make me engage in outdated game show antics, are you?”
“Would I do that?” Jay pressed a hand to his chest, his face full of mock disbelief.
“Yes,” she shot back. “In a heartbeat.”
He grinned. “Go ahead and take a look behind Door Number Two.”
Claire swung open the door. Behind it, she found the mother lode. An entire room, lined with floor-to-ceiling shelves, housing every Silver Screen product imaginable.
“Holy heck!” she marveled. “It’s like having your very own Ulta.”
“Except better.” He held out a couple of small bags stamped with the Silver Screen logo. “Let’s go trick-or-treating. No limit. Take whatever catches your eye.”
Claire moved slowly around the perimeter of the space, surveying each shelf. Jay leaned against the doorframe, his expression equal parts pride and enjoyment. After a minute, she selected a small box and dropped it in the bag.
“I’m all set.” She turned back to him with a smile.
“One mascara? That’s it?” His shoulders slumped in disappointment.
“I don’t really need anything else at the moment.”
“Do you know how many people would kill to be standing where you are right now? These are the perks, lady. Some of these items haven’t even dropped.”
“I know, but I just feel bad. Like I’m taking advantage of you.”
“It’s my treat,” he said. “Hey, I have an idea. You let me pick out some things for you while you make a goodie bag for your friend Molly. Maybe that will keep your guilt in check. Deal?”
“I think Molly’s already got the goods she wants.”
“She’s pissed, isn’t she? That we ditched the party and left her hanging?”
“Actually, she ditched us first—she and Hamish.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean Molly never made it back to the hotel last night. She and my uncle spent the evening in each other’s company—the entire evening.”
“Wow.” Jay took a step back. “Ouch.”
“I realize we’re all adults.” Claire began. “It’s just that the whole thing is so…”
“Unexpected?” Jay offered.
“Weird,” Claire said with a sigh. “Molly’s been my best friend since we were girls. Hamish is like her uncle, too.”
"Do you work together? At Avi?" he asked.
"No. She's a children's book editor."
"I see.” Jay nodded. “Sounds interesting."
"It sounds ludicrous.” Claire laughed. “Molly is the last person you'd expect to edit children's literature. Between the binge drinking, her unparalleled use of profanity, and her love of cigars, she's not exactly the model of innocence."
"But you love her anyway, right?"
"I can't help it. And neither can anyone else. Everyone loves Molly. She's smart as a whip and drop-dead gorgeous. Molly grew up… and Uncle Ham never stood a chance."
“Well, I hope it doesn’t lead to the end of your friendship.”
“Molly knows where all the bodies are buried and vice versa,” Claire said. I think we’re stuck with each other for life.”
Jay turned back to his award-winning cosmetics.
He offered several minutes of product analysis, his eyes and expression filled with pride as he spoke.
As she listened, a warmth filled her. Clearly Jay had found his passion, but he wasn’t cocky about it.
Claire nodded, taking in each of his talking points with real interest. Suddenly Jay stopped mid-sentence.
“What?” she asked.
“You’re nodding. That means you’re either really intrigued or you’re bored to death and ready for me to wrap it up.”
“No, I find this fascinating,” she said. “I’ve been a consumer for years but never really thought about the science behind it all.”
“Well, maybe if you hadn’t failed Biology…” he teased. “Come on, let’s get something to drink.”
“Fine, but nothing alcoholic.”
“What’s your poison then?”
“Water.”
“Sparkling? Mineral? Tonic?”
“Let’s not get crazy. From the tap will be fine.”
They parted ways in the living room. Claire sank down on his sofa—a gorgeous Chesterfield in deep green velvet, as sexy as his hunky college professor vibe.
“I threw in a lemon wedge, just to be fancy,” he said upon his return.
“Thank you.”
“So, does this place scream bachelor pad or what?” He sat down next to her—close, but not too close.
“Actually, I award full James Bond points for this.” She ran her hand along the tufted back of the sofa. “This is sexy.”
“A science nerd with a sexy sofa. I must be doing something right.”
Something? Try everything. You’re attentive. Thoughtful. Funny. And you are one hundred percent as sexy as your green sofa. A giddy wave rippled through her body with the anticipation of where this might lead.
“I’m not sure what I expected, but it certainly wasn’t this.”
“Full disclosure? I can’t take credit for anything in this apartment. It came fully furnished, right down to the glass in your hand. I literally just showed up with my suitcase. It’s like a hotel, minus room service. And housekeeping. And unlimited fresh towels.”
“Well, it’s gorgeous. And you’re so lucky to have that.” She pointed to the brick fireplace on the opposite wall, framed by an ornately carved mantle. “I’d kill to have one in my place. I love a fire, even when it’s too warm for one.”
“That one’s just for show, I’m afraid. And it’s not nearly as grand as the one at the old country estate.”
“Country estate?” she questioned, confused.
“Are you telling me you don’t remember our night at the estate? We went back there after the pub and sat in front of that enormous fireplace.” He inched closer to her, his eyes never leaving hers.
“I don’t believe I do.”
“That’s the dream I had—the night we met in the piano bar. After I’d combed the hotel searching for you."
Claire blinked. "You looked for me? After I left the bar?"
"Hobbled all over that damn place,” he admitted. “I finally gave up in favor of avoiding a scene with your spouse."
He looked for me? No way! Why did I check out early?
"I'm all ears. I want every sordid detail, if you can remember that far back."