Impossible Glamour Page 7

Chapter 7

  Ellen

  “Be vewy, vewy quiet,” I said and rummaged through my handbag “We’re hunting wabbits.”

  “Okay, party girl. Let’s get you inside.” Webber took my bag from my hand, which was hilarious.

  “Party? There’s a party? Why can’t we go to the party?”

  “Because you’re going to bed.” Webber put my house key into the lock and opened the door to my town house.

  “No, no, no, no.” I stomped my foot. “I am on spring break without Kazowski, and I want to par-TAY!” I waved my hands in the air. Then fell forward.

  Webber caught me before my cement face-plant. “And you will. You can party like it’s your birthday, just not tonight.”

  “Not going inside.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I might be tipsy, but I’m not ready to go home.”

  “You’re drunk and you need to get your ass into bed before you upchuck. Your dad ordered me to get you home safe.”

  “I love Daddy.” A warm feeling blazed through my heart.

  “What’s not to love, doll? The man is a Legend.” Webber grasped my arm and gently tried to pull me inside. “Come on.”

  “Didn’t you hear me? I’m not going home yet.”

  “Doll, come on. Your dad told me I had to get your ass home safe, make sure you were asleep, and then I could leave.”

  “Nope.”

  “Fine.” Webber bent at the waist and suddenly the world was upside down.

  “What the hell? Webber! Oh my God, Webber!” I pounded his back with my fists.

  He carried me through the front door and Drummond raced down the stairs, barking the whole way.

  “Hey fella, you remember me?” Webber reached out his hand and Drummond sniffed, wagged his tail, and circled, doing his happy dance. My dog was thrilled to see Webber.

  “Traitor!”

  “More like a good judge of character. Babe, you don’t weigh much, but I’m not an action film star like your old man.” He walked up the stairs. “Which room?”

  “I’m not telling you.”

  “Hmm, let’s see. Vogue couture or dirty sweatpants. I’m going with dirty sweatpants.”

  “Webber!”

  “What, babe? No judgment. We are what we are.” He bent forward and put my feet onto the floor, and I fell back onto the bed, my giant hoop skirt billowing up near my head.

  “Kazow!” Webber said. “Sit up, babe.” He grasped my arms and pulled me up. “I can help you with those shoes.” He bent to my feet and unsnapped the tiny little clasps at my ankles. “How the hell do you get out of one of these things?”

  “Asks the ladies’ man.”

  “Look, my ladies usually don’t look like stock players from Gone with the Wind.”

  “Right? Exactly what I thought. Choo increased the volume of the skirts.”

  “Yes, he did. Stand up.” Webber spun me around. “Okay, doll, I’m taking one for the team.” He unbuttoned the back of my dress. “Jesus, how many of these are there?”

  “Thirty-six. I counted when she put it on me.”

  “And they are so friggin’ tiny. Girls. Girl land. Love it. Don’t understand it, that’s for sure.”

  “I don’t fit in at girl land.” A cascade of giggles burst from my mouth. The dress was nearly unbuttoned, and for the first time since early afternoon, a long, deep breath filled my lungs. I stepped out of the creation of lace and tulle and silk and wires and spun around with my arms over my head and fell back onto the bed. “Free!”

  “Okay doll, I have to go.” Webber’s voice was far, far away.

  One eyelid popped open. I didn’t want Webber to leave. Drummond didn’t want Webber to leave. “Don’t go,” I said. “Sophia isn’t coming home, and it’s just me and Drummond, and he loves you.”

  “Nope, babe, got to go. Your dad would have my ass.”

  My elbows pressed to the bed and I sat up. Everyone said I was beautiful. As beautiful as my sister. I channeled a look I’d seen shooting out from the pages of fashion magazines, a look that my sister had cultivated and perfected. A look that screamed sex appeal.

  Webber threw back his head and laughed.

  “You’re laughing at me?”

  “No, babe, I’m laughing at your impression of Sophia. It looks just like her, but it seems so wrong on you.”

  Heat flooded my chest and face. I jumped from the bed. I wouldn’t be laughed at in my own house. I stomped toward the bathroom.

  “Ellen, don’t. It’s just that look isn’t you.” Webber reached for my arm and I spun around.

  He was right there in front of me. His blond hair, his blue eyes, his sharp jaw, those full lips…that smart mouth. His breath was hot. He smelled of bourbon and mint and man. His gaze locked with mine. Webber? This was Webber? My body thrilled at his arm around my waist. How was I feeling this heat for Webber?

  “Babe.” His voice brushed against my ear. “I was only joking with you. You’re beautiful, but you’re beautiful because you’re Ellen. That’s what makes you beautiful.”

  My lips pressed to his. My tongue licked along the seam of his mouth. Heat flew through my nearly naked body. His sex hard against my hip. Webber.

  I wanted Webber.

  A thick, dark need climbed through my belly. My hands fisted in his shirt, and I backed him toward my bed. Needing his touch. Needing his hands on my body. Wanting his naked flesh next to mine. We fell back onto the mattress and I was falling, falling, falling, and gone.

  *

  What. The. Hell. I jerked up out of my bed. My head pounded. My palm pressed to my forehead. On the floor lay the gargantuan dress I’d worn all of Saturday. A torture device. For the next week I’d wear sweatpants and perhaps a bathing suit. I reached for my phone on the nightstand and flipped it over. 9:27? The car was meant to arrive at ten o’clock. I’d already packed, but after last night I had to look a mess. I was naked. Completely naked. Did I take off my dress? How could I have possibly…there were thirty-six buttons in the back? I slowly stood from my bed. The throbbing in my head pounded harder with each step I took toward my bathroom. A quick shower. I didn’t have to look good, I just had to get to the resort. I opened the bathroom door. The reflection of my bed in the mirror…

  My heart jolted.

  I stopped.

  I turned.

  My gaze landed on the lump of blankets in my bed.

  I turned.

  Oh. My. God. There was a man in my bed.

  I walked slowly, softly, back into the bedroom.

  Not a man.

  The Webzie.

  Webber Connor was in my bed. My hand flew to my mouth. I slowly backed toward my bathroom, pulled my door shut, and grabbed my robe. Fuck! I mouthed toward the mirror. How was Webber Connor in my bed?

  I squinted. Think, think, think… How? When? What the hell? A vision of two empty bottles of champagne in the back of the town car on the way home flashed in my brain, and then Webber carrying me upstairs and taking off my…dress? Oh my fucking God. I’d been naked in front of Webber Conner?

  “Yo, dolly,” a voice boomed from the first floor of the town house. “I came by with coffee and to make sure you actually got into the car that Mama and I sent for you.”

  Oh. No. Oh no, no, no, no, no… This was not happening. That voice. That booming voice. Was…oh no.

  “Come on, Ellen. Come downstairs and say hi to Daddy.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut. Please God, please God, please God, do not let Daddy come upstairs. I opened the bathroom door and there stood Webber.

  He raised his finger to his lips. “Shhhh!”

  Had we…was he… My eyes scanned what he wore, and thankfully he still had on a T-shirt and his pants.

  He closed the bathroom door. He wrinkled his brows and gave me a menacing look. “Do not tell your father I’m here,” he whispered. I didn’t even know Webber could do menacing.

  “You think I want anyone to know you’re here? Give me a break, Webzie.”

  “Go downst
airs, tell him you’re fine. Leave for your little hoorah spring break trip, and once Steve-o is out the door, I’ll take off.”

  “What? You think I’m letting you stay in my house without me?”

  “Doll, come on. I am not sauntering downstairs past your dad. I don’t even think I’d get out of the house alive.”

  “Take the back stairs.” I placed my hands on my hips. “I’ll go down, chat with Daddy, convince him he needs to leave. Yada yada yada. You go down the back stairs, out the sliding glass door, over the fence, down the hill, toward the 405, call a car or an Uber or whatever the hell. Just don’t let anyone see you.”

  “Seriously? I like my idea better. I hang out in here until you and Daddy-o hit the road. Then I Uber it home.”

  “No.”

  “Ellen, what the hell?”

  “No.” I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest. “Why are you even here?”

  “You’re kidding, right? You don’t remember shoving your tongue down my throat and pulling me on top of you?”

  I backed away from Webber. “I did not do that! I would never, I could never—”

  “You did and you can, but don’t worry about it, doll, we didn’t. Was a no-go with Big Boy, and we both passed out.”

  “Big Boy?”

  Webber nodded and looked toward his crotch.

  “Are you telling me that you call your genitalia Big Boy?”

  Webber smiled and nodded. “Babe, every guy calls it something. They’re lying to you if they say they don’t.”

  “Out,” I hissed and pointed toward the door. The man named his genitalia and was proud that he did so. “Out of my house. Out now. I don’t care if Daddy sees you or not. Get your shirt, your shoes, and go.”

  “Seriously? You’re this pissed because I named my penis?”

  “No, Webber, not that you named your penis, but that you admit to naming it. Not only admit, but you seem kind of proud.”

  “I am proud. Big Boy knows the drill okay. Besides, I’d think every chick would dig that kind of transparency. I’ve got nothing to hide, babe. It’s all Webber, all the time.

  “Enough Webber for me. So please get your things and head toward the back door.” I walked to my bedroom door. “Please be gone by the time I get back. Go through the bathroom and down the back stairs, then through the kitchen.”

  “Uh-huh.” Webber pulled on his shirt.

  I left and trotted down the stairs, took a deep breath and turned the corner, and there was… “Daddy! Hi, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  He turned from looking around the living room. “Doll, your car is here in ten minutes.”

  “I know. I’m sorry, Daddy. I overslept but I’m already packed. I just need a quick shower and to get dressed.”

  He nodded, seeming unusually subdued. “Ellen, did Trick and Sophia stay here last night?”

  “No. Why, is everything all right?”

  “Of course, doll. No worries. I’m just on my way for breakfast and tennis at the club.”

  A loud thud sounded from the upstairs.

  Daddy glanced up and then looked at his feet, but he didn’t say a word.

  Was it possible that Daddy thought…that Daddy was uncomfortable with the idea of—

  “Amanda stayed here last night,” I blurted out.

  “Amanda?” Daddy’s eyes bounced toward the stairs.

  “She and Ryan had a terrible argument. I mean something so silly. They’ve already texted and everything is fine now. But last night? Wow, she was pissed.”

  “Oh.” Daddy nodded. “Should I go up and say—”

  “No, Daddy, don’t.” I jumped in front of him. “She’ll be so embarrassed if she thinks you know about her argument with Ryan. I mean, she woke up this morning and swore me to secrecy.” I put my hand on Daddy’s back. “But you better go now before she comes downstairs looking for me and looking for coffee. You know how she is about coffee in the morning.”

  “Right,” Daddy said and a smile crossed his face. “Well, that makes sense. Have a great time, doll. Relax that brilliant brain of yours.” He bent down and pecked my cheek. “I’ll see you next week.”

  “Bye, Daddy.” I gave him a swift kiss, a push out the door, and then threw the lock. Oh my God. That had been awkward and close and—my gaze landed on the living room floor. The very spot at which Daddy had been staring.

  There lay Drummond with not only a man’s shoe but also my bra. I pressed my palm to my face. So much for me trying to convince Daddy there wasn’t a man in my house.

  “Babe, is he gone?”

  I looked toward the staircase. Webber had one shoe on and was gimping down the steps.

  “Just barely. Why are you still here?”

  “You’re kidding, right? I mean, there is no way I’m hoofing it over a fence, down a hill, and to the edge of the 405 with one shoe. There are some things a man will not do.” Webber walked into the living room and extracted his shoe from Drummond’s paws. “Buddy, this is handmade Italian leather. Lucky for you not a bite mark on them.” Webber sat on the couch and put on his other shoe.

  If not for his crude sense of humor and smart mouth, Webber would actually be an attractive man. He was as good-looking as any of his clients, although not nearly as buff. He maintained a lean, hard-muscled runner’s physique, but that was okay because I preferred a lean man to a— What the hell was I thinking? I didn’t prefer Webber. I preferred that he get the hell out of my house.

  “Uber is arriving.” Webber looked at his phone and jumped up. “Okay, babe, have a great spring break. Enjoy whatever it is that brainiacs do when they take time off.”

  He stopped at the front of the door. I stood there beside him, and there it was—a zing. Heat thrummed through my body for…for…for Webber? What the hell? He cocked an eyebrow and smiled. That wicked kind of slow smile that normally I’d make some snide remark about how crude he was, or how could he possibly expect a woman to fall for that, but instead…instead…I leaned forward and zing! My lips were on Webber’s and my body was pressing into his and the synapses in my brain were firing, flooding me with a memory of us in my bed and me kissing and pawing and nearly begging and Webber telling me no.

  I pulled back. “You wouldn’t sleep with me last night.”

  Our lips were millimeters apart. Webber’s eyes widened as though he’d been caught doing something very, very wrong.

  “Babe, it wasn’t that I wouldn’t… It’s just that sleeping with you when you were blotto didn’t seem right.”

  “Seriously, Webber? You sleep with like a dozen women a week. I throw myself at you and you say no?” I must really be hitting the bottom as far as how attractive I was to the opposite sex for this guy to kick me to the curb.

  “Ellen, it’s not like that.” His voice was soft and contained none of his familiar snark or playfulness. There was a seriousness to his words, to his face, to his demeanor. He shook his head. “You’re not one of those girls. You’re Ellen Legend. I couldn’t just bang you when you were all boozed up. What fun would that be?”

  “OUT!”

  “Ellen, what? I’m being honest—”

  “I could accept that Big Boy couldn’t perform, I could even accept that I was special, but I’m having a hard time with the idea that you were afraid I wouldn’t remember the joy of being with the Webzie.”

  “Babe, my reputation with the ladies is justified.” He opened the door. “See you, Ellen. Webzie out.” And without a look back, without an apology for who he was or what he did or didn’t do, Webber trotted down my front steps and got into the Uber.

  I wouldn’t have to see him again for a very long while. Probably not until Sophia’s wedding…if I was lucky. Damn. My car and driver were parked in front of the house. I told him it’d be at least fifteen minutes and walked back upstairs to my room. I grabbed my phone and texted Amanda.

  If Daddy asks you stayed here last night.

  Sure, she texted back. Did I sleep next to you or Webber
?

  What? Oh no. Now my entire family thought I’d slept with Webber.

  Not what happened.

  No prob. Have fun this week. See you Wednesday.

  How could I forget? I didn’t even know what resort the car was taking me to, but both my sisters did. Wednesday was already scheduled. Amanda and Sophia were meeting me for a mani-pedi, massage, and mud treatment. Superswank, superfun, no men allowed. I couldn’t wait. I acted like I didn’t want all the luxury that Daddy’s life could provide, but sometimes I kind of loved being spoiled. I slid into the bathroom and turned on the shower. I needed to get out of the town house and to the resort so I could forget last night and start to enjoy my week.

  Chapter 8

  Webber

  The digs for the CTA retreat were swank. My cell phone pressed to my ear and I waited for Dick Munch to hop back onto the line. The sun hung low in the sky, and I walked across my room toward the balcony, which overlooked the pool and the golf course. Beyond the manicured greens, a cliff dropped down to the ocean. CTA might have had a rough year as Jeff said, but this retreat was setting the agency back at least a cool mill. I’d golfed with Rick this morning and managed to convince him that keeping me was cheaper than me leaving. With the stern promise that I’d refrain from calling him Rick the Dick ever again, I’d gotten a promise of a yes vote from Mr. Ricky the Dicky to become a CTA partner.

  “Yo, man, sorry,” Roger said. “It was Travata about her meeting today at Worldwide.”

  “Dick Munch, it better have been a client to keep me holding. Anything else you need to tell me before I hit the bar?” All the CTA assistants were back at the agency pretending to work and actually jacking off. Ahh, the pre-promotion days of hanging out in my boss’s chair and sipping bourbon at noon with my fellow assistants while the agents went away on retreat.

  “I got your meeting with Selena on the books.”

  “Please tell me it’s a lunch.” I pulled at the drapes and glanced down at the bevy of babes lining the pool. Unfortunately for them, they were mainly CTA agents, which meant off-limits to me. I did not fuck where I ate. No siree, Bob. No way.