Between Friends

Chapter Nine

“Holy crap!”

Whitney swiveled in her desk chair to see what Kadie, their style intern, was exclaiming over now. She knelt on the floor next to a clothes rack and stared at her cell’s screen. The girl was supposed to be steaming clothes for Judy’s shoot but had a terrible habit of getting lost in an endless stream of Twitter and Facebook updates on her phone. “What now?”

“There’s been another bank heist! At my bank,” she added in utter horror, her eyes as wide as moons when she looked up from her cell phone.

“That’s terrible,” Whitney said, her stomach churning as she worried over Eddie. Realizing Kadie was about to hyperventilate, she added, “Well, look at it this way. If they’ve already knocked off your bank, they won’t be coming back, right? That’s not their M.O. They hit a bank and move on to the next one.”

“Oh.” Kadie considered for a moment. “Hey! Yeah.” She beamed happily. “That’s right. I’m safe.”

Safer, Whitney thought, but didn’t say anything. The poor little Kansas transplant was still recovering from the shock of big-city life. No reason to terrify her any more than she was already.

Instead, Whitney rose from her chair and crossed the distance between them. She loved the new open floor plan of their office space. Whitney could see from one end to the other and could keep an eye on things.

“I’m doing a branding consult with a new design firm this afternoon if you’d like to come,” Whitney offered. She remembered what it was like to be eighteen and a lowly intern hungry for experience. Opportunities offered by her superiors had shaped her career. She wanted to continue the cycle.

Kadie’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Sure.”

“Do you think I’m ready for a big meeting like that?”

Understanding her hesitation, Whitney leaned her hip against Kadie’s desk and said, “Years ago, when I was Delilah’s intern at the magazine, I felt so out of place. I came from a very poor background. My clothes were straight off the rack from thrift stores. Seriously, shopping at Target was a big deal for me.

“Wow.” Kadie shook her head. “I didn’t know that. I mean, you’ve got it together, you know?”

“I didn’t always. My early attempts at being fashion forward were a disaster. Just terrible,” she admitted with an embarrassed blush. “But one day, Delilah pulled me aside and talked to me about finding personal style and, more importantly, confidence.”

“So you think I need to work on my confidence?”

“Yes, definitely. In this business, perception is everything. You’ve got to own your look and own your ideas. Don’t be afraid to speak up in a meeting, okay? You’re here to learn and expand your knowledge base. This internship is supposed to complement your education at the fashion institute. This”-Whitney gestured around the room-“is where you get your hands-on training.”

“So if I have an idea it’s okay to speak up or make suggestions?”

“Absolutely.” Whitney smiled. “At my first New York Fashion Week, I got to sit in as the designers arranged their models and the producers put the shows together. I took a chance and pointed out that the shoes at one show were totally wrong. Wrong color, wrong style, just wrong all around. And you know what?”

Kadie leaned forward like a little kid hearing a campfire tale. “What?”

“The designer took my advice and let me choose the new shoes for the show. The write-ups all mentioned the way the shoes made the outfits pop, and the shoe designer, a little nobody back then who I’d run into down in the Garment District, was literally an overnight success. And guess what happened next?”

“Tell me!”

“I landed my first paid job as a stylist’s assistant.”

“Wow! Thanks for the pep talk.”

“Anytime.” Whitney glanced toward her desk. “I have some shots of the new line on my desk. I’ll go grab them so you can familiarize yourself with the designers we’re visiting this afternoon.”

Whitney headed back into her office, the clack of her heels echoing in the warehouse-like space. As she reached for the glossy pages, Whitney heard her phone buzz. She glanced at the screen and saw Mick’s smiling face. Her heart sped up at the sight.

In the last few weeks, things had gotten progressively more serious between Whitney and her men. Her well-used body still hummed from the night prior’s amorous activities. Mick had been almost wild when he’d taken her as Eddie watched on from his bedside seat. Her pussy clenched at the memory of his dirty words and that talented tongue of his.

“Hello?” She held the phone against her ear as she gathered up the pages.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Mick always sounded so happy to hear her voice. “How’s your day? You’re not busy, are you?”

“No, no. I was thinking about grabbing some lunch. Are you free?”

“Sorry, but no. Actually, that’s why I’m calling.” He paused. “Um…about tonight…”

Whitney sighed. “You’re kidding me, right? This wedding date has been on our calendar for two weeks, Mick.”

“I know. It’s just that Sam came down with food poisoning, and I’m the only trauma surgeon available to cover until tomorrow afternoon. I’ve got a call in to Maggie, but she isn’t answering.”

She squeezed the bridge of her nose as she tried to be understanding. “It’s okay, Mick. I know how frustrating scheduling conflicts can be.”

“I really am sorry, Whitney. I so wanted to see you in that sexy new dress. I even had my tux dry-cleaned and everything.”

“Well, maybe you can take me out somewhere special and get some use out of that spiffy clean tux.”

Mick chuckled. “Name the place and date and I’m there, baby.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

“I’ve got something else you can hold.”

Whitney snorted. “Behave. You’re at work.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.” Mick sighed. “Speaking of…I should get back on the floor. I ducked into my office to call you, and my pager is going crazy. I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”

“All right. Get some rest, if you can. You worked all last night and now today.” She winced at the idea of how tired he probably was already. “And eat something,” she added quickly. “I know how you forget, and then you get grumpy, and no one likes a grump.”

Mick laughed. “Yes, dear.”

Whitney rolled her eyes. “I’m hanging up now.”

“Bye, babe.”

“Bye.”

Whitney hung up and considered what to do next. She hated attending weddings solo. It was so depressing. Plus she’d have to spend the whole night fending off drunken groomsmen. No, thank you.

There was only one option. And she’d drag him to the wedding kicking and screaming if she had to.

Whitney thumbed through her list of contacts until the right name popped up on the phone’s touch screen. She hit the call button and waited for an answer.

“Whit-whit!” Julian Primero’s familiar high-pitched voice hit her eardrum. “How the hell are you, girl? I heard you jumped ship and started a new business with Delilah Kant.”

“You heard right.” She leaned back against her desk and made chit-chat with her old friend. They’d been style interns at Teen Vogue years earlier before heading different directions. He’d gone directly into design after college and worked for one of the top new labels for a year before joining a celebrity styling firm that handled everything for their clients, including award shows.

“So what you need, Whit-whit?”

“You remember that tux you put on that linebacker for the big sports award thing a few weeks back?”

“Of course!” Julian sounded as if he was about to swoon. “Fitting that big hunk of sexiness with my snazzy tape measure? Biggest thrill of the year.”

Whitney giggled. “Nice, Julian. Really. Nice. So obviously you remember that tux.”

“Sure do. Why?”

“You know that favor you owe me?”

Julian laughed. “Tell me when and where you want it, sweet cheeks, and it’s yours.”

Eddie wiped the sweat from his face with the hand towel looped over the side rail of the treadmill. He and his teammates were nearing the end of their daily workout. It had been a surprisingly slow week for SWAT. No warrants. No crazies taking hostages. No drug busts gone bad.

He found the calm unsettling. In his experience, these moments of quiet were usually followed by all hell breaking loose. Another bank had been robbed that morning, and yet again the robbers were in and out so fast even the beat cops hadn’t made it there in time to get a glimpse. They’d really shot up the place, but there were no deaths this time. Eddie found that rather curious. Were they changing up their M.O. or had something happened during the robbery to spook them?

Maybe he’d see what Carol knew. A ball-busting detective and truly one of LAPD’s finest, she was working the case. For some reason, the old crone had a soft spot for Eddie. Maybe he could work her for a few interesting tidbits on the case.

“Yo, Sarge!” Jackson, one of the desk cops from downstairs, stepped into the gym. “You got a visitor.”

Brow furrowed, Eddie punched at the treadmill’s display. His heart rate had slowed some, but he’d only managed two of his usual five cool-down minutes. A long whistle of appreciation pierced the air. Eddie glanced at the nearby mirror as he stepped off the treadmill and nearly tripped over his own feet.

Whitney strode into the room in those killer heels that made her legs look so damn sexy. The tanned skin gleamed under the bright lights of the gym. Her blonde hair tumbled around her shoulders in loose waves. She’d squealed this morning when he’d walked into her bedroom without knocking and discovered her in those big, scary rollers. He’d dodged a thrown shoe as he beat a hasty retreat. Apparently Whitney wanted to preserve the mystery of just how she emerged from her bedroom looking good enough to eat.

His mouth curved downward as he took in the short hemline and low neckline and bared shoulders of the dress. There were short sleeves to the pale-blue number, but they were split down the middle and fell on either side of her arms. Way too much bronzed skin on display, he decided. It was one thing if he and Mick were benefiting from the skimpiness of her clothing but quite another when every other male-or female, for that matter-could partake of the visual buffet.

Eddie shot a dirty look at Danny for that whistle. Whitney wasn’t a piece of meat to be barked at. She was his woman and deserved respect. “Stow it, Danny.”

The younger man paled. “Sorry, boss.”

Whitney’s eyes flashed as he neared her. Heat rolled low in his belly when she gave him one of her sinfully sexy smiles. Her fingertips brushed his forearm. “I thought you only used that tone with me.”

His cock stirred at her touch and the reminder of the way she reacted to his Dominant side. “It’s a multipurpose gruff.”

She laughed. “I see.”

His gaze moved to the garment bag tossed over her right shoulder. Her hanger was crooked over her fingers. “What is that?”

“It’s your tuxedo and shoes,” she said matter-of-factly and swung it off her shoulder. “Here.”

Eddie took the heavy bag and held it at arm’s length. “My tuxedo?”

“Yep.” She grinned impishly. “You’re taking me to the wedding tonight.”

“Oh, I am?” He groaned inwardly. The last thing he wanted to do was go to a wedding. Lowering his voice, he asked, “I thought Mick was taking you?”

“He was, but one of his colleagues has food poisoning so he has to cover the night shift.” She stepped closer and put her small hand on his chest. When she turned those big doe eyes up at him, Eddie melted. “Please?”

He gave an exaggerated sigh. “Okay. What time?”

“Seven, but we should probably meet up around six. You mind heading over to my office? We can take my car. It’ll be easier for the valets to park than your monstrosity.”

Eddie chuckled. “True.” He jiggled the bag. “How the hell did you find a tux so fast?”

“Honey”-Whitney petted his chest-“I’ve got connections.” She got serious. “But don’t spill anything on that, okay? It’s a loaner from a friend’s styling closet. Dribble steak sauce on the jacket or scuff those shoes and you’ve just bought yourself about three thousand dollars’ worth of clothing.”

He blew out a stunned breath. “What? Is it lined with gold?”

“No, it’s very well made.” She touched his jaw. “And it’s going to make you look deliciously sexy.”

“Deliciously sexy, huh?” He grinned at her teasing remark. The desperate urge to run his fingers through her soft hair and kiss those sweet lips made him antsy. He was keenly aware of the curious stares from his coworkers.

“I should go.” Whitney checked her watch. “I popped over here on my way back to the office from a branding meeting. I left our intern in my car.”

“Did you crack the window?”

Whitney snorted and smacked his arm. “Be nice! She’s a sweet kid. Such a hard worker and really smart. Kind of reminds me of me when I first started in the business. All starry-eyed and eager.” Whitney shook her head. “God, those were the days, huh?”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yeah because you’re so old.”

“I’m staring twenty-six in the face, Eddie. My life is rushing by, you know? Professionally, I’ve made it.”

His gut clenched. “And personally?”

The happiness in her eyes warmed his heart. “I’m getting there.”

“Glad to hear it.” A calm sensation settled over him. He reached out and took her hand. “You look beautiful today.”

“Oh?” She gestured to her dress. “I got the feeling you weren’t all that impressed with the outfit today.”

Eddie grunted. “It’s nice. I’d prefer to keep you covered from neck to ankle, but what do I know about fashion, right?”

She giggled. “Exactly.” Whitney glanced around. “Can I give you a kiss or is that, like, prohibited here?”

“Well…”

“Not even a small one?” She held up her fingers with an inch of space between them.

The hopefulness in her voice got him. “Okay. A quick one.”

“Jeez”-she laughed-“don’t sound so enthusiastic.”

“Come here, woman.” Eddie slid his arm around her waist and hauled her close for a chaste kiss. Even without tongues and only minimal touching, Eddie felt the familiar zing of arousal. As if electrified, his body vibrated with desire for her.

Whitney seemed to feel it, too, and took a step back, breaking the connection. Her flushed cheeks made him smile. “I’ll see you later.” She squeezed his hand. “Be safe.”

“I will.”

“Bye!”

“Bye, sugar.”

Eddie titled his head as he watched the wicked swing of her hips. She tossed a wink and kiss over her shoulder before disappearing around the corner. Groaning, Eddie decided a cold shower was in order. Like now.

“Goddamn, boss!” Danny swore and shook his head. “Where the hell do you find girls like that?”

“There aren’t any other girls like that.” She’s a one of a kind, he thought to himself. “Besides,” he added with a smile, “she found me.”