Moonlight Kisses Page 13

  Her captors hadn’t seen Cole walk in before her, and fortunately both events had ended by the time the hotel employee freed them.

  Sage suppressed a shiver at the memory of Cole in the closet as well as later in the hotel suite.

  She returned her attention to Shelia, who had finally wrapped up her update. “Is that it?” Sage asked, narrowing her gaze. “Are you sure there isn’t something else you’d like to tell me?”

  “Uh...no. That was all I had.” Shelia’s voice was still shaky. It possessed none of the rancor it had back in the hotel ladies’ room.

  Sage hoped she was having flashbacks of scooping up hot buttered grits at the Waffle House.

  “Okay, then.” Sage addressed the entire staff as their weekly meeting drew to a close. “As you know, I leave for Milan midweek. Do good work while I’m away, and Amelia can contact me if needed.”

  Back in her office, Sage sank into the chair behind her desk. Her assistant followed her into the office and pushed the door closed.

  “So are you planning to eventually let Shelia and her closet cohorts off the hook?” Amelia pulled her phone from her pocket prepared to type in a notation if necessary. “Or should I begin reviewing résumés to find their replacements?”

  Sage opened her mouth to answer, and then another thought occurred to her. “Exactly when did you find out they’d locked me up?”

  “Not until this morning, when I heard them talking about it. What seemed like a wonderful idea two days ago now has them shaking in their pumps, expecting pink slips.” Her assistant shrugged. “Anyway, when I couldn’t find you, I figured you and Freddy Finch were somewhere in the hotel torturing Cole Sinclair, because I didn’t see the two of them around, either.”

  Again, Sage was grateful Amelia had no inkling where she’d been, what she’d been doing and whom she had been doing it with. The young woman had been insufferable enough after she’d walked in on her and Cole kissing.

  “I was hoping to snag one of those gorgeous centerpieces your neighbor made for myself, but our guests took them as souvenirs,” Amelia continued.

  “Evie did a great job,” Sage agreed. “I’m hoping this encourages her to start her own business.”

  Rolling her chair closer to her desk, Sage tapped a finger on her computer’s keyboard to rouse it from sleep mode.

  “You haven’t said what your plans are for Shelia and her coconspirators.” Amelia raised a hand. “I know what they did is insubordination and a firing offense by any boss’s standard. However, in their defense, you were a bit of a pill on Saturday, General, even more than usual. It was like watching a Valentine’s Day version of How the Grinch Stole Christmas.” Her assistant rolled her eyes. “I was seconds away from locking you up and throwing away the key myself.”

  Sage checked her watch, and then drummed her fingertips against the desktop. “Are you nearly ready to rest your case, because I have a lot of work to do before I leave for Milan?”

  Amelia sighed. “I’m guessing you’ve already made up your mind.”

  She’d decided their fate before she’d come to work this morning. “They’re good at their jobs, and I have no intention of firing them over a momentary lapse in judgment.”

  Her assistant froze, and her phone slipped from her grasp. She bent over to retrieve it. “So you’re going to let it go, just like that?”

  “Yep, just like that.” Sage confirmed, looking at her computer monitor. “It’s minutia. I need to reserve my energy to remain focused on the big picture.” She’d enjoyed watching Shelia squirm this morning, but it was time to get back to business.

  “What’s gotten into you?”

  Wouldn’t you like to know. Sage kept the thought to herself, and her eyes fixed on her computer screen.

  Amelia snorted. “Whatever it was, I hope you get a lot more of it.”

  * * *

  A knock sounded on Cole’s closed office door, and Loretta walked through it.

  “Your next appointment is here,” she said.

  Cole looked away from the mood board Espresso’s creative department had prepared with proposed ideas and color swatches for next year’s spring collection. He exhaled. “You can show her...I mean him in.”

  “Do you need me to stick around to referee?” A gravelly grunt accompanied his secretary’s question.

  “Is he dressed like the Espresso Granny?”

  Damn. Cole ground his teeth together. How was he supposed to convince the makeup-buying public the man had no association with Espresso when, thanks to Sage, he was starting to buy into it himself?

  Sage. The thought of her and the stunt she’d pulled at the hotel should have left him angry. However, spending the remainder of the weekend with her made it seem as though it had happened a lifetime ago. He hoped when he returned from Milan there would be more weekends together in their future.

  “Looks like Mr. Finch left his granny getup at home today,” Loretta said.

  “Go ahead and send him in,” Cole said. “I’ll yell if I need you to pry my fingers from around his throat.”

  Seconds later, Freddy Finch stepped hesitantly into his office. “Um, you wanted to see me.”

  Without the dress, wig and makeup, Finch appeared to be in his early twenties, Cole observed. Tall and lanky, he bore little resemblance to the overweight old crone he portrayed.

  Cole walked away from the mood board set up on an easel. He took in Finch’s threadbare jeans, old sneakers and worn Tennessee Titans jersey bearing the number of a player who’d retired a decade ago.

  “Thanks for coming, Mr. Finch.” He gestured to the chair in front of his desk. “Have a seat.”

  Freddy eyed the chair suspiciously before sitting down. “Hey, man, I don’t want any trouble.”

  “I’m sure you don’t.” Rounding his desk, Cole sat in his own chair. As usual, he got right to the point. “Here’s my problem, you dressing up as the so-called Espresso Granny is negatively impacting my company.”

  The young man shrugged. “The newspaper photo shoot and gigs I did for Stiletto were just to help me keep a roof over my head until my drag queen show takes off. My folks kicked me out, when I dropped out of college to pursue it full-time,” he said. “Things are picking up, but it’s been rough.”

  Cole let the young man rattle on about his song-and-dance routine for a few minutes before he stopped him. “Let’s get down to the reason I asked you here.”

  “If you’re going to sue me, you should know up-front I don’t have anything.”

  That much was obvious, Cole thought. However, he had an alternate idea. If Finch agreed to it, Cole believed it might be a solution to both of their problems.

  “Mr. Finch. I want to offer you a job.”

  Sweat broke out on the man’s shaved head. “I don’t know,” he said, nervously. “The last job I took from Ms. Matthews nearly got my behind kicked the other day.”

  Leaning back in his chair, Cole crossed his arms over his chest. “I assure you the only thing this job will get you is well paid,” he said. “Oh, and it just might help get that drag queen career of yours off the ground. Interested?”

  He was interested all right, Cole thought.

  “I’ll take it.” Eagerness replaced the anxiety that had creased the young man’s features just moments ago.

  “But you haven’t even heard what you’ll be required to do.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Finch shrugged. “If it’ll keep me from having to crawl back to my folks and boost my career, too, count me in, Mr. Sinclair.”

  Cole quickly outlined the job with Freddy Finch nodding in agreement at every requirement. “So you’ll have to don your Espresso Granny outfit one last time,” he said. “Then that’s the last I ever want to see of it.”

  Again, the young man readily agreed.

>   “Great. My lawyers will have the contracts to you later this afternoon.” Cole knew the kid needed the money sooner rather than later and would instruct his attorney to expedite the funds. “You’ll receive your first check the moment you sign them.”

  Finch extended his hand, and Cole shook it, sealing the verbal agreement. “I can’t thank you enough, Mr. Sinclair. You idea might just turn me into a headliner.”

  The young man rose to leave, but Cole gestured for him to wait. He picked up the phone on his desk and punched in a number. “Hey, Max. Is Tia available?”

  Seconds later, his sister’s burly assistant had her on the line. After welcoming her home from her belated honeymoon and inquiring about his brother-in-law, Ethan, Cole filled Tia in on what he needed and then asked for her help.

  “That’s correct, a head-to-toe makeover,” he confirmed. “I also need you to handle this one personally.”

  “I don’t know.” His sister hedged. “I’ve never done a makeover like this before. It would definitely be a challenge.”

  “I know I’m asking for a miracle here, sis,” Cole said. “But if there’s anyone who can pull this off, it’s you.”

  When the brief call ended, Freddy left the office with an all-day appointment set for the next day at Espresso Sanctuary’s flagship spa.

  Cole couldn’t help feeling pleased with himself as he leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on his desk. Not only had he diffused the Espresso Granny problem, he just might be able to use it to his advantage.

  Chapter 14

  Sage awoke with a start as the wheels of the plane bumped along the runway before skidding to a stop at Milan’s Malpensa airport.

  “Benvenuti a Milano,” a flight attendant said over the loudspeaker.

  Sage yawned and stretched her arms over her head, but the movement did little to relieve the kinks the cramped economy-class seat had left in her back and neck.

  The flight attendant announced the local time, seven o’clock in the morning. Sage stifled a second yawn with her fist. It meant she’d netted exactly twenty minutes of sleep during the entire fourteen-hour journey.

  Much like her life, her plan to doze the entire overnight flight had been upended by Cole Sinclair. Images and thoughts of him had greeted her each time she’d closed her eyes. Being drawn to him, being infuriated by him, being kissed by him and finally being held by him as he made love to her deep into the night.

  Sage sighed and peered out of the tiny window as the plane taxied to the terminal. Only days had passed since she’d last seen Cole, but she missed him. He’d lived in Milan during his stint at Force Cosmetics. Sage couldn’t help wishing she would be seeing this incredible city with him as her companion instead of a paperback travel guide.

  Girl, please, her inner voice heckled as she quickly made her way through customs with only a carry-on bag for the short trip. You want him, all right, but not for playing tour guide.

  Sage tried to force thoughts of Cole from her mind as she slid into the backseat of a white taxi. She was in Milan during fashion week, and this afternoon she had a front-row seat to view the runway show of one of Italy’s most iconic fashion brands. It certainly wasn’t the time or place to be moping over a man she’d only known a few weeks. They hadn’t even been out on a real date.

  She stared out the taxi window at the gray skies as the city came into view. Then why did it feel as if she’d known Cole for a lifetime? she wondered. Moreover, why was she starting to think Amelia’s belief in romance and finding true love might not be so far-fetched after all?

  Removing her city guide from her bag, Sage covered a yawn with her fist. She flipped through the pages she’d highlighted during the flight, determined to shift her focus off Cole and onto enjoying her trip and rare time away from Stiletto.

  The guidebook had noted the northern Italian city was a hub for business and lacked the monuments, picturesque piazzas and stunning views of the Mediterranean offered by the country’s tourist destinations. Still, Sage had a short list of things she’d hoped to do while she was in town. She wanted to see the gothic cathedral known as the Duomo di Milano, tour the museum at the Teatro alla Scala opera house and buy a pair of kick-ass designer boots along the fashion capital’s real attraction, the world-renowned Golden Quadrilateral.

  “Scusi, signorina. Signorina.”

  Startled, Sage blinked and looked out the window. The taxi was parked at her hotel. She glanced at the open guidebook on lap and concluded she’d drifted off.

  Sage yawned again. Sleepiness and jet lag overwhelmed her excitement as she counted out the euros to pay the driver and checked into her hotel. She’d intended to take a shower and spend the remainder of the morning sightseeing before Marie Bertelli’s driver arrived to whisk her to this afternoon’s runway show.

  Instead, she spent her first hours in Italy snoring beneath the duvet of her room’s full-size bed.

  * * *

  Cole observed the crowd filing into the courtyard of Sforzesco Castle. Huge white tents, winding red carpets and endless media trucks had temporarily transformed the centuries-old fortress into the city’s weeklong fashion hub as well as the venue for the Bertelli runway show.

  He’d attended fashion shows during Milan’s fashion week in the past and had expected to see the requisite gaggle of fashion magazine editors, bone thin and dressed head to toe in black. However, the rest of the crowd looked like a virtual who’s who of headline makers from across the globe.

  Cole inclined his head at the CEO of a German department store chain he’d become acquainted with during his Force Cosmetics stint. He recognized a smattering of American television reality-show stars, all famous for being famous, as well as last year’s best-actor Oscar winner, who had passed out on stage in the middle of a drunken acceptance speech.

  An uneasy feeling came over Cole. Not for the first time, he wondered why Marie had issued him the personal invite.

  The only news he’d generated lately was a footnote in that god-awful article in America Today where that so-called Espresso Granny had made her, rather his, debut.

  Cole rarely second-guessed himself. The main reason he’d decided to help Marie out with his presence was his fondness for her grandparents. However, he was starting to regret having made this trip. His time would have been better spent back in Nashville overseeing his own family’s business, he thought. Although deep down he knew it wasn’t his office at the Espresso building he longed for right now.

  Cole wanted to be at the front door of Sage’s cottage doing everything in his power to convince her to see him again.

  Sage.

  Damn, he missed her, entirely too much for a woman he’d only slept with one night. He’d thought about her nearly every moment of the long flight, her business savvy, her sass, the all-consuming passion she displayed both in and out of the bedroom.

  Cole exhaled. He’d only been here a day, and already, he was considering shaving a few days off the trip. He’d arrived in Milan yesterday morning, rented a car and driven directly to his condo. The cleaner who came in once a month to maintain his place, which occupied the top floor of the four-story building, had readied it for his short stay, including stocking the fridge.

  So this morning Cole had awakened in his own bed refreshed and looking out a window with a view of the Duomo, but longing for a woman an ocean away.

  Give her some space, he cautioned himself. Sage had promised to consider going out with him when he returned. It seemed ridiculous to be awaiting her answer about a date when he wanted so much more.

  Surrounded by a throng of photographers with continuously clicking cameras, and security barking out orders in rapid Italian, Cole continued to make his way toward the elaborate tent where the Bertelli show was being held.

  Once inside he immediately heard his name. Marie shouldered her w
ay through the crowd. A worried expression deepened the lines in her forehead and grooves around her mouth.

  “Please tell me you brought that sister of yours with you.” She hissed, without preliminary, her panicked eyes searching around him.

  Cole shrugged. “No. I haven’t seen or talked to Lola in a few weeks,” he said. “I was expecting to see her here.”

  “Well, she’s not here. Her agency can’t reach her, and she’s not answering her damn phone.” Marie bellowed over the din of the crowd. Forgetting her affected Italian accent, her intonation was straight out of Boston’s north end. “She’s supposed to wear our showstopper gown, and she’s nowhere to be found.”

  Marie ran a hand through her short bob. “I don’t know what we’re going to do. I’d heard she could be unreliable at times, but I didn’t think she’d screw me over, too.”

  Cole pulled his phone from the pocket of his suit jacket. “Hold on, I’ll try giving her a call.”

  Three rings later, his youngest sister picked up. “Lola,” Cole shouted into the phone covering his other ear with his hand.

  Marie pushed aside a flap on the large tent, which led to a section that appeared to be a makeshift break room. There were pastries and bottled drinks set up on a corner table with several people milling around them.

  It was a bit quieter, allowing Cole to hear what sounded like a party on the other end of the phone line.

  “Hey, baby girl, where are you?” he asked, hoping both the party and his sister were nearby.

  “What is she saying? Where is she?” Marie asked frantically.

  Cole held up his hand as he tried to make out what his sister was saying. He only caught a few words, but they were enough to surmise what was going on.

  “Met some friends...fun party...Madrid...stuck on a yacht ...talk later,” Lola said.

  Cole called his sister’s name, but either they’d been disconnected or she’d hung up. He hit the redial button. No answer.

  Marie shook her head. “She’s not coming at all, is she?”