Bedazzled (The Beguiling Bachelors Book 1) Page 9

  “Let’s see. I am a jewelry designer obviously. I have been doing it for about six years now. I love it. The working with my hands, coming up with ideas, seeing people wear my designs. I love everything but the selling. I hate the selling.” No surprise, she started with a safe topic, her work.

  “I went out on my own this year after working for other jewelers, first downstate, then here. I came up from Gilman, IL. Do you know it?” Wyatt shook his head no and she continued, “Mid-state, on the interstate, lots of corn, not much else. I could not wait to get out of there, although I love, love, love my brothers. I have two. They still run a farm there. And, of course, I miss my mom too.” It sounded to him like mom was almost an afterthought.

  “I have a brother too, and two sisters, all younger. You met Missy last week, so you know already that she has me wrapped around her little finger.” Wyatt managed to make eye contact with Keeli, keep his hand on her thigh and maneuver the car through the light traffic on the dark, damp streets.

  “See how much we already have in common? We both have brothers. It is meant to be,” Wyatt flashed Keeli a playful grin.

  “Oh yeah,” Keeli bantered back, “and my Porsche is parked right down the block too. Didn’t you see it when you drove up?”

  “You may not drive one, but you can certainly appreciate one. I like that,” he kept the conversation light when it could have moved quickly into that ‘you have lots – I have nothing’ territory. They traveled in completely different worlds. He would have plenty of reminders of that, no need to start yet.

  Her grin faded. She continued more quietly. “Seriously, I am just a starving artist. I am committed to making this work but it is pretty hard to make ends meet selling my own designs. I have no name recognition yet, no stores carrying my stuff. I rely on me, just me. Well, and fortunately Theo helps me out by getting me jobs filling in as a server when he does big jobs.”

  “You do the fairs on weekends and work nights for Theo? When do you create your jewelry? Or sleep, for that matter?” When she ignored the question, Wyatt probed further. He loved hearing her voice, wanted to keep her talking. She was very matter of fact, not feeling sorry for herself. He really liked that about her. “Do you make the pieces yourself or just design them?”

  “I don’t just anything,” Keeli’s clipped response was indignant before she backed off. “Sorry, I get a little defensive about my work. I am challenged about it all the time. I do all the designs, select all the materials but I only do about half of the actual construction, the rest goes to wonderful manufacturers in the area.

  “I sell my small stuff on Etsy, do the art fairs for the higher end pieces,” she explained. “It is slow going. My goal is to get representation in some stores. No one has signed on so far but I am pretty determined.”

  When Wyatt asked about going out on her own without a store lined up Keeli continued. “I got tired of selling other people’s jewelry.” She grew animated as she told him about working for Mr. Weinberg, and a large retailer before that. She shifted, turning in her seat to face Wyatt more fully, giving him an opportunity to move his hand where it rested on her leg.

  Wyatt seized the opening to slide his palm further up her thigh, the warmth of her skin heating the jeans. His thumb began making lazy circles on her denim clad leg, sending sharp quivers of desire through his whole body. She did nothing about it, perhaps unaware he was doing it, but he could think of nothing else.

  “Go on,” he encouraged Keeli to continue, bringing her back to the moment. He needed to concentrate on what she said, not how warm and strong she felt. Otherwise, he feared he could not drive safely. He was moments away from pulling to the nearest curb and kissing her senseless.

  “I came to Chicago six years ago to take some metalsmithing classes and never left. I worked at the small retailers, worked up to the big names, but in January decided to try it on my own.”

  “So you work totally alone? What if you need help? Aren’t you ever lonesome?” Wyatt probed, flatteringly interested. ”I am surrounded by people all day, meetings, conference calls. I cannot even fathom working alone.”

  “I cannot afford a whole store, or employees obviously. I considered sharing studio space with other jewelers and designers but I cannot afford it, so I turned our third bedroom into a studio, and do heavy work in the basement, for safety. If things don’t turn around soon I won’t be able to pay for the apartment rent either.” Keeli continued sadly. “This weekend was great, but up until now it has been a very slow summer for art fairs. I could design from Gilman, move back home, but frankly, I would rather die.”

  So, she doesn’t want to go home. Is that a Gilman statement, a family statement or a failure statement?

  Wyatt knew she had just given him a major glimpse into her, if he just knew how to interpret it.

  Keeli put a positive spin on her work and finances as best she was able. The conversation moved to the remaining art fair season. Wyatt was very knowledgeable about all of them, the type of clientele they attracted, the fees for a booth, which fairs were juried for entry, which were open. He liked her choices for the rest of the summer, the juried fairs in Milwaukee and Highland Park. She basked in his approval openly and he preened with importance.

  I am so glad I know this stuff. She values my opinions, wants my input. This is so cool. A woman who can have an intelligent conversation about art without being a groupie. Intelligent and hot.

  Before she knew it, they were pulling up in front of the wide Chicago Athletic Club doors and a liveried valet was opening her door. Wyatt jumped out to come around to her and quickly ushered her out of the rain and into the lobby. The smell from Shake Shack was delicious and overwhelming. Wyatt placed his hand on the small of her back again, guiding her toward the stairs to the second floor. He watched her look toward the burger joint with longing.

  “Do you want a burger first?” Wyatt He offered her the choice but they agreed to split a burger upstairs instead. He selected a high-back loveseat off to the side of the empty fireplace. Keeli looked around briefly before settling into the seat, wide eyed as she took in the large room, original woodwork and tall windows overlooking Michigan Avenue.

  “We can tour later. There is a game room that is worth seeing.” There was still a good crowd despite the late hour on a Sunday night. Wyatt flagged down a server before dropping gracefully onto the couch beside Keeli. He was careful to leave enough room between them not to be sitting on her, but little enough space to easily wrap his arm around her shoulder and pull her close.

  “I hadn’t thought it would be so crowded,” Keeli observed, “this late on a Sunday, you know?”

  “The bar stays open late, they have the game room and our crowd, as you know, operates on very little sleep if offered a good alternative.”

  “Of course, you are so right. I don’t usually have the friends or the funds to party a lot. Most of the time, I am waitressing anyway. So, is this is your new pick up spot? Oh shoot, forget I just said that. I have no idea why I brought that up.” Keeli was flustered, looking everywhere but at Wyatt.

  Saved when the server appeared, Keeli dove behind the cocktail menu for reprieve and inspiration. It was a hectic scene but the waitress was not too busy to chat with Wyatt. He was a regular, he tipped generously and they slipped into easy conversation. Keeli looked unhappy about it, possessive and jealous and Wyatt enjoyed the moment. He helped her pick a glass of red wine, pointing to one on the menu when she confessed they were all unfamiliar and overpriced. Wyatt ordered an 18-year-old scotch, the most expensive on the small menu and a burger for them to split.

  “Hip joint, hip prices,” Keeli observed and for a brief moment, Wyatt was concerned about her continually returning to the topic of money. Then he remembered what she had said about partying and decided it was not aimed at him. He let it go…for now.

  Even tucked away somewhat privately, people stopped by to say hello to Wyatt. Otherwise, he nodded or waved to a few people while keeping his dis
tance. He seemed to know everyone and he had certainly garnered the interest of many women in the room.

  “Are you always the center of attention?” Keeli’s question was honestly curious, no bite to her voice and he considered his answer carefully.

  “You know, I guess I am. I never really thought about it before because it has always just been the case. First, my father was the important one in every situation, then he introduced me and I became the de facto second in command. No dad, I rise like cream.”

  “Do you like it?”

  Wyatt was stunned by the question. No one had ever asked him before it he enjoyed being ‘big man on campus’. He had taken for granted that he would be, but did he actually like it? The question made him squirm a bit causing him to consider how much easier another woman might be. This one challenged him and he was not sure he liked it.

  Wondering if another woman might be an easier option for tonight, he let his eyes meet those of a couple beautiful women scattered about the room. They all signaled their availability with a look or a smile. Then his eyes rested back on Keeli’s insecure countenance.

  She is so on to me! What are you doing idiot? You have the hottest woman in the room sitting here. You like looking at her, you like talking to her. She is into cars and maybe into you.

  Wyatt immediately lost interest in everyone and everything else, turning his full attention to Keeli.

  They chatted about the bar, the food menu, and shared some people watching while awaiting the arrival of their drinks. Wyatt heard Keeli’s stomach growl and they were able to laugh about it comfortably. He rested his arm behind her, his hand idly playing with a lock of her hair. He knew it was a cliché, but it felt like ropes and ropes of silk.

  “You have straight hair tonight,” he made the observation and Keeli launched into a small diatribe about her unruly curls and the color of her hair. Before she could say more, Wyatt stopped her by putting his hand firmly on her leg. She quieted, those blue-green eyes staring into his.

  “A man could lose himself in those curls, Keeli. I miss them.”

  Wyatt reached out to pull her gaze back to his, softly caressing her jawline, then slowly stroking the length of her bottom lip with his thumb. Her lips were so soft and velvety. They were the most erotic things Wyatt had experienced in a while, especially when instinctively she opened her mouth and reached for him with the tip of her tongue.

  Wyatt watched as she snatched up her drink, effectively putting a barrier between them. He gave up, placing the burger in front of her, knowing that she needed it more than he did. The moment had passed, for now, but as she raised her glass he lifted his own, clinking it with hers, toasting in a low, seductive voice, “to us.”

  “To us,” Keeli responded, locking eyes with Wyatt over the rim of their glasses and taking a sip of the deep, ruby liquid, allowing it to rest on her tongue before swallowing. He watched in fascination. “Yum. This is delicious.”

  “Yes, you are,” Wyatt smiled at her as he lowered his glass and pushed the burger closer to her. “Try this.”

  Keeli took a small bite and savored it briefly. “Oh, this is so good.” As expected, Keeli proceeded to demolish three-quarters of the sandwich before apologetically offering the last few bites to Wyatt. He ate the last of the burger in two huge bites, wiping his hands properly on the napkin in his lap and pushing the empty plate out of the way.

  “So, I guess you were hungry. Should I order more?”

  “Oh, how embarrassing. I am so sorry, I was just hungry and it was so good. Do you need more food? I, of course, am good now.” She went from sorry to silly and they shared a laugh.

  “What about you? I have been monopolizing the conversation, but tell me more about you, Wyatt.”

  Oh damn, we are back to friendly.

  “There is really not that much to tell,“ he began modestly. “I grew up in Lake Forest…”

  “Sorry I don’t know where that is,” Keeli interrupted.

  “Really, you really aren’t from around here. It is about 20 miles north along the lake. Pretty, wealthy, insular. The town went nuts years ago when Mr. T moved in and cut down all his trees. No? Doesn’t ring a bell?”

  “Sorry,” she mumbled.

  “Anyway, I got out of there when I went to Cornell, then Kellogg for the MBA, just like dear old dad. Family tradition is very important to both the Lyons and Howe families so I got a double dose of it.” Wyatt tried to keep the derision from his voice.

  “But those are great schools. I would kill to have the opportunities of a Lyons or a Howe. Think of the advantages you have.” Her enthusiasm was unmistakable.

  Suddenly introspective, Wyatt scowled at Keeli and went quiet.

  “What did I say? I obviously said something wrong. Did you not like school? Did you have a bad experience?” Her concern was touching and Wyatt thawed.

  “Actually I loved school and being away from home, on my own. I studied business, of course, but I minored in engineering. Software engineering. I was fascinated by the technology behind a business, and with actually writing code. My friends had to keep my secret, cover for me when I was playing in the computer labs if anyone was looking for me.”

  “You’re a geek? I would never have guessed. I would have loved to study at places like that, to learn business or English lit. I went a community college instead but I studied some business too.” Keeli said the last with bravado, proud of her educational achievement, not intimidated by Wyatt.

  “I went to community college near Gilman at Kankakee Community College. I had to work part time to pay for it, and live at home to make ends meet. I managed to sneak in some metalsmithing and metallurgy classes at the U of I.”

  “Ok, so it wasn’t Cornell but they were tough classes and I was juggling a lot. I focused on business, on everything I needed to get a job. That is why see me reading all the time now, cause I never got to take English Lit in college.”

  Jumping up in his seat, Wyatt rummaged in the large pocket of the jacket slung over the couch arm beside him.

  “That reminds me. I have something for you.” He presented Keeli with a small parcel poorly wrapped in newspaper, copious amounts of tape holding the corners shut, looking as if a five year old had wrapped it.

  Keeli laughed, first at the wrapping, then at the parcel, obviously a paperback book from its weight, shape and size.

  “To replace the one I ruined,” Wyatt explained as she tore open a new copy of “Crime and Punishment.”

  “You shouldn’t have, really. You didn’t ruin it. I dropped it. Nevertheless, thank you. Thank you so much.” Her sincerity moved him. She seemed more pleased by the gift of a paperback book than Sloane did when he gave her designer bags, vacations or even jewelry.

  “It’s no big deal,” Wyatt was a bit embarrassed by her response.

  “It is to me,” she was looking at him with such admiration that it was hypnotic.

  “You must not get a lot of gifts.”

  “You aren’t kidding,” came her heartfelt reply.

  Wyatt was speechless. He took a fortifying swig of scotch before putting his glass on the low table and turning to her fully again. He reached his arm behind her again, fingered a lock of her hair bringing his other hand to rest lightly on her leg. He started sliding his thumb back and forth mid-thigh, watching her reaction, and seeing the blaze of heat in her eyes. He let the conversation lag, concentrating on the intoxicating feel of her.

  “Well, you already know that I came up here about five or six years ago, etc., etc. I moved here with my friend Meg but last year she went home to get married and I moved in with Dylan and Theo. My mom was appalled when she found out I live with two guys. I tried to take the sting out by telling her they were gay but that just made it worse,” They both laughed.

  “Living with them has been fantastic. I found them on Craigslist and could not have asked for better luck. I thought Dylan was a girl when I replied to the ad. They did not say if they were looking for male or female so ho
w was I supposed to know?” She turned up her hands in that questioning way. She liked to talk with her hands, he realized, very animated.

  “Anyway, we have become great friends now.“

  “Holy shit! You moved in with two strange men you found on Craigslist?” Now Wyatt sounded appalled and remarkably parental. “Don’t you know how dangerous that is?”

  “I am not an idiot,” Keeli replied with some fire. “I did background checks and got references for them. You sound worse than my mom.”

  “Sorry. Who am I to get on your case?” Wyatt quickly backed down and flashed that disarming smile again before turning back to the table, and savoring a sip of scotch. “I have not had roommates since Cornell. I forget how hard it is to find good ones.”

  “So, on to you now,“ Keeli threw the conversational ball back in his court. “Do you like your work? What about hobbies? You must travel a lot.” Wyatt heard the longing in her voice on the word travel. They might be talking about him, but her questions were revealing as much as when she talked about herself.

  “What else can I tell you?“ Keeli watched as he gathered his thoughts. ”I collect modern art, preferably by local and up and coming artists. My job,” he sneered, “My job is a bit of a joke. I spend all day in meetings and keeping my father happy. That is the most important part of my work. I work for my father, who worked for his father and so on and so on. I go to too many meetings. I spend time working with architects and builders which is okay, but then I spend hours fighting with the city on zoning. The usual. It’s a job.”

  “A job?” Keeli could not believe her ears. “You are second in command at a huge real estate conglomerate and you call it a job?”

  “Yeah, I guess that sounds pretty stupid, when you put it like that,” Wyatt conceded with a cheeky grin. “But it really is a lot of routine stuff. One building is usually just like another, one deal like the next. In addition, my dad oversees everything like we are all two year olds that need a babysitter. It’s pretty annoying after all this time.”