dressed, and was back at her office shortly thereafter. If she was feeling a little off-balance she was doing a great job of ignoring it. She had a ton of work to attend to, what with the Halloween party that Hotbox was throwing and a promotional package to organize for when Peter played at her club. Which he was going to. He was
Leslie smiled slyly as she unlocked the door to her office. She had Peter right where she wanted him and it was so much fun. This whole bet idea he’d concocted was turning out to be highly enjoyable. And now that she had a reason to really lay it on him and drive him wild, well, that was just awesome.
She shook her hair back and tossed her purse on the purple couch. If there was a part of her that was using this opportunity to get back at him for rejecting her three years ago, then she was all right with that too. She wasn’t above a little passive-aggressive behavior.
That night, Peter had taken her places she’d never seen before and then, just when something inside her had unlocked and flung wide open—
And then he made her do the one thing she’d swore she would never do again over a man.
He made her cry.
Somehow, some way, Peter had slipped behind her defenses and gotten to her. He’d touched her and made her feel.
Not before or since had she ever been that exposed and open to another human being. Even though the night had started out being nothing more than a drunken distraction from her wrecked and ravaged life, it had turned into a whole lot more very quickly.
With Peter she’d glimpsed something elusive, something vast and full of wonder. It had rocked her.
And he’d slammed the door on it.
“Which is just fine by me,” she muttered to herself, half disgusted at the direction of her thoughts. Romantic musings were all they amounted to anyway. The reality was that she had a chance to grab her life and her future by the horns and rebuild it right now. Peter was her opportunity and she was going to take it, come hell or high water.
Her career, her business—those were the things that were solid. They were what she could count on. Hadn’t she learned by now that every single time she put her trust in a man she was involved with she just got tromped?
Peter wasn’t any different. He had just seemed like it for a moment. But given time he would do the same.
Sighing, Leslie walked to her desk and flopped down in her chair. There were still tons of decorations to hunt down and orders to double-check. And she still didn’t know what she was going to dress up as for the Halloween bash.
Maybe something uber-provocative to flaunt in front of Kowalskin? Like Xena, Warrior Princess or a German barmaid costume. Whatever she chose it had to be good.
Because Halloween night was the end of the bet.
The terms of the bet were through the last night of the World Series, which was scheduled to be played on All Hallows’ Eve—her favorite holiday of the year. And this year it was going to be the best one ever.
At midnight on October 31 she would win her life back. As much as she loved running Mark’s club it still felt a little like charity. Which she appreciated, really she did. Her brother had given her a fresh start, a place to hide while she licked her wounds. But now she was ready to step out of the shadows and reclaim what was taken from her.
The phone rang, startling her, and she snatched it up. “Leslie Cutter.”
“Ms. Cutter, this is Jerry Patowski.”
Her spirits lifted. The superintendent from her building was finally returning her twelve or fifteen calls. It was about time. “Hi, Jerry. I’ve been trying to call all week. Is there any word on my apartment?” She missed it and wanted to go home. Mostly she wanted to soak in her own bathtub and sleep in her own bed.
She heard papers shuffling and a file cabinet squeaking, then a muffled cough, before he said into the speaker, “Nope. Sorry ’bout that, Ms. Cutter. But, more damage than anticipated was found and it’s gonna be a while still. Plus the plumbing’s so old the brand isn’t made anymore.”
“Can’t you just use a different one?”
He sighed and then said like he was explaining something to a child, “Not unless you gut the whole thing. Old fixtures are part specific. I had to order some special parts from overseas. It could be another week or so before they arrive.”
Leslie bit down on the frustration. “Can’t you expedite the parts from wherever they’re coming from?”
“That
“How many shipments are you expecting?” She didn’t have the patience to wait for several boxes to trickle in from halfway around the world. Not that she really had any choice in the matter, but still.
“Just the one.”
Fine. “Well, can I at least come by and grab some more stuff?” She’d been wearing the same bra for over a week. Even though it had been washed already, she appreciated having more to choose from than one lace bra and one sports bra.
“No can do, ma’am. We can’t let you inside the construction zone. Ain’t safe, and there’s the liability. The big boss would toss me out on my ass if he knew I’d let you in.”
She’d deal with Peter. “If I can get him to agree, you’ll let me in so I can get more stuff?”
The super guffawed into the phone. “You can try, girlie. But he ain’t gonna let you in. I promise.”
She’d just see about that. “Thanks for getting back to me on this, Jerry.” Finally. “We’ll be in touch.”
Setting the phone back in its cradle, Leslie smirked. She wiggled a heel off and it fell to the floor. Then she tucked her bare foot underneath her. What she wanted was clean underwear and something to wear to work besides her skinny jeans. She’d ask Peter about it.
If she were still in Miami with her old life she would have simply run out and bought more, but this new one of hers didn’t include a hefty salary to spend frivolously. This fresh start included budgeting, cooking from scratch, and not tossing a few hundred bucks away on new clothing if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.
Leslie sighed again.
Turning her mind to other things, she dug into work for the next few hours, making phone calls and checking the status of things. About six months ago she’d started preparing for the big Halloween party, getting the word out and generating interest. Now that the time was drawing near she was touching base with people again.
It was Hotbox’s first costume party, and she was going to do it right. The whole place would be turned into a giant haunted house, and the band she’d hired had agreed to dress up like zombies. The night’s winner of the costume contest would receive two coveted tickets to see Blues Traveler perform live at Celtic Tavern. The small venue promised a really good time and Leslie wished she could enter. She’d love to watch the band. John Popper played a mean harmonica.
Tucking a stray strand behind her ear, she went back to work making sure that all the gift certificates, tickets, and ad promos were in order. By the time she was ready to go for the night, not only was everything in order, but she had gotten a famous local radio duo to come down to Hotspot and do their coverage live on Halloween night.
Feeling proud of herself, Leslie turned the reigns over to her assistant manager and headed back to Peter’s house. His FJ Cruiser was parked in the garage so she knew he was home. As she entered through the side door Leslie wondered how he was going to react when she asked to get some of her things. If he was still awake, that was. For a big time ballplayer he sure hit the sack early.
Entering the house, she saw that the lights were still on and wandered down the wide hall toward the kitchen, her heels clacking on the hardwood as she went. Once she reached the kitchen and crossed to the refrigerator for a drink, a sound came from upstairs. It was muffled, but it sounded like Kowalskin was yelling something at her.
Glancing at the clock, Leslie noted that it was late and frowned. What did he need from her at midnight that wasn’t either a booty call or . . . well, a booty call? Popping the lid on a can of coconut water, she took a drink and headed back down the long hallway to the stairs.
