Moonlight Kisses Page 7

  Sage spent half of it trying to ignore smug, knowing looks from Amelia. The rest of the time, she sneaked peeks at the buttery-yellow blooms on her desk and relived her early-morning visit from Cole Sinclair.

  Some general she made. One brush of his hand against her cheek and her common sense had made a hasty retreat. She’d transformed from a savvy businessperson to a woman whose only ambition was getting in his pants.

  Sage sucked her teeth in disgust as she pulled her red Dodge Challenger into her driveway and shut off the muscle car’s engine. By noon, she’d given up on getting anything done in her office and decided to spend the remainder of the day working from home.

  She lifted the huge bouquet from the passenger’s seat. It had been a distraction at the office, and she didn’t want to waste another workday staring at it. Or thinking about how she’d practically thrown herself at Cole Sinclair.

  “Wow! Somebody really likes you.”

  Sage looked next door to see Evie hanging a new handmade wreath on the front door to usher in the month of February. Shaped like a heart, it was fashioned from a fluttery mix of red, white and pink ribbons.

  “I’ll be over with the wreath I made for your door in a few minutes.” Evie winked. “Then you can tell me why you’re home so early and all about that beautiful bouquet you’re holding.”

  Dang flowers. Sage rolled her eyes skyward. They were destined to be today’s topic of conversation whether she liked it or not. “We can have lunch,” she said, resigned to her fate. “I ordered a pizza on the way home. The delivery guy should be here soon.”

  “Sounds good to me. Only we’d better not let it slip to Kenny. Pizza and visiting you are two of his favorite things. I’ll have the first-ever kindergarten dropout on my hands if he hears he missed out on both.”

  A half hour later, Sage sat at her kitchen table with her neighbor, remnants of the pepperoni pizza they’d demolished between them.

  Evie picked up one of the chocolates she’d made for the chocolate buffet at Stiletto’s upcoming event and passed one shaped like a high-heeled pump to Sage.

  “Now that you can’t stuff your mouth with pizza every time I ask a question about your early-morning visitor, how about an answer?” Evie bit into a white-chocolate compact.

  “What? I already told you everything. He brought doughnuts. We kissed. He left. End of story,” she said. “Oh, I picked up the bags I ordered for the blogger event, pink with black lettering. They’re in the trunk of my car. Did you want to see them?”

  “Later.” Her friend looked pointedly at the flowers and back to her. Ignoring Sage’s attempt to change the subject, she continued, “I still don’t get how you went from teaching a man from one of the city’s most prominent families a lesson to this morning’s lip-lock.”

  Sage bit the spiked heel off the piece of chocolate. She’d left out the detail about how, if Amelia hadn’t walked in when she had, they would have done more than kiss. A lot more. She popped the rest of the candy into her mouth.

  “It’s hard to explain. Everything got twisted around. I’d expected arrogance and outrage on his part. I’d prepared myself for confrontation. Instead he was real.”

  “Real?”

  Sage reached for another chocolate, this one shaped like a lipstick. “Real charming, real honest and completely genuine,” she said. “He even admitted he’d made a mistake in underestimating me.”

  “Whoa.” Evie paused, holding the chocolate she’d been about to pop into her mouth in midair. She leaned forward in her chair. “Did I hear you right? A man who can admit to being wrong.”

  She nodded, but her neighbor looked skeptical.

  “I’ve been married ten years and I can count on one finger the number of times Kenneth has admitted to a mistake,” she said. “He won’t even acknowledge making a wrong turn.”

  While her physical attraction to the man was undeniable, it was in that honest, genuine moment that she found Cole Sinclair most appealing, Sage thought. When he let his guard down and gave her a glimpse into the real man beneath the money and power.

  “I guess this means you two are square now,” Evie said. “No more worries about retribution.”

  Sage resisted the urge to reach for more candy. “I wouldn’t say that. He made it clear that he wants Stiletto.”

  Her neighbor shrugged. “But it’s not for sale. End of story.”

  Sage wished it were that simple. This morning, she’d done a more specific internet search of Cole’s tenure with beauty behemoth Force Cosmetics. Not only had he acquired a half dozen smaller companies for them, he’d also helped turn them from moderately successful ventures into household names.

  “He has a lot of friends in the industry. A few well-placed phone calls on his part could shut a lot of doors in my face, which would put me in the position of having to reconsider his offer.” The thought made her anxious, and she automatically made a grab for more chocolate.

  “But he obviously likes you.” Evie looked at the flowers. “You also mentioned you two having a lot in common.”

  Actually, what she’d said was they were a lot alike.

  “He wouldn’t do that to you, would he?”

  Sage shrugged. “He might.”

  She and Cole were indeed a lot alike, and in his shoes, Sage couldn’t be sure of the lengths she’d go to in order to acquire something she really wanted.

  “But I can’t work scared. It’s just not the way I operate,” she said.

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “The same thing I’ve done since I started my company—work hard.” Sage made the decision as she spoke. “Right now that means doing everything in my power to make sure Stiletto’s upcoming Valentine’s Day event is a huge success.”

  It also meant getting her reaction to Cole under control. That meant no more melting at the sound of his hypnotic baritone. No more falling into his powerful arms. And his addictive kisses were definitely off-limits.

  Sage thought about her upcoming trip to Milan. Marie Bertelli’s invitation had come up at the perfect time. It would give her the time and space she needed to get her head together and shut down the part of her she feared was falling for Cole Sinclair.

  Chapter 8

  Stupid Valentine’s Day!

  Snatching a bouquet of cellophane-wrapped roses from her customer service manager’s arms, Sage shoved them back at the woman’s boyfriend.

  “Give her this on your time.” She glanced pointedly at the Timex on her wrist. “Right now, she’s on Stiletto’s time.”

  Hustling the third uninvited boyfriend of the morning out the door, Sage rolled her eyes toward the pale pink tulle they’d attached to the ceiling earlier. It was like dealing with a bunch of love-struck teenagers.

  The very day she needed her team to be at their best, their brains had simultaneously turned to mush. All anyone cared about was sending or receiving roses, chocolates and, of course, those idiotic glassy-eyed teddy bears.

  Sage scanned the smallest ballroom of Nashville’s premier downtown hotel. Shortly, it would host a hundred of the most influential women in the beauty blogosphere, all with huge makeup-junkie followings.

  Everything had to be perfect.

  She double-checked the checklist in her head. The champagne rested in silver ice buckets. The pink swag bags, brimming with Stiletto goodies, including a minicollection exclusive for event attendees, were lined up on two massive tables. Evie was putting the finishing touches on the chocolate buffet.

  Sage groaned at the sight of her advertising manager, Joe Archer, yapping on his cell phone, a big sloppy grin plastered on his face.

  What had possessed her to schedule this event for the morning of Valentine’s Day? she asked herself for what seemed like the millionth time. She blew out a heavy sigh.

 
Not bothering with preliminaries, Sage walked over to the advertising manager, snatched the phone from his hand and ended the call. “Hold the personal calls until after the event, lover boy,” she said firmly.

  “It wasn’t a personal call,” Joe said through clenched teeth. “You just hung up on Freddy Finch.”

  Sage lifted her hands in a questioning gesture. The name meant absolutely nothing to her.

  “The guy who dressed up like the old lady for the newspaper and then we hired for our billboard ad.” The frown on her employee’s face deepened. “He was in the middle of thanking us, because the billboard has led to more people in the seats at his drag queen show.”

  Sage winced. “Oh.”

  “Yeah, ‘oh.’” Joe held out his hand. “So may I please have my phone back?”

  Sage placed the phone back in his palm, just as she felt a hand at her elbow. Amelia was at her side. The young woman’s lips were pressed into a firm line.

  “What’s wrong?” Sage looked around.

  “You.”

  Still holding on to her elbow, her assistant steered her toward the closed door at the entrance of the ballroom. Sage yanked her arm away.

  “What’s gotten into you, Amelia?”

  “I’m doing an emergency intervention because you’re driving everyone absolutely bonkers.”

  Sage bit her lip, but not wanting to let her assistant have it in front of the other employees, she shoved the double doors open and walked out of the ballroom. Amelia followed.

  Her assistant raised her hands. “Before you blast me, I was just trying to get you out of there before you had a revolt on your hands.”

  Sage opened her mouth to tell the young woman she was being ridiculous, but Amelia then rested her hands on her arms.

  “You pay me and the people in that ballroom generous salaries,” her assistant continued. “Now stop micromanaging and let us do the jobs you hired us to do.”

  Sage’s first impulse was to argue. Instead, she clamped her mouth shut and nodded once. The young woman was right. If the strained looks on her team’s faces were any indication, Sage’s close supervision wasn’t being taken as the help she’d intended.

  Besides, she’d worked for enough jerks before starting her own company. She didn’t want to become one. It was time for her to back off.

  Satisfied, Amelia’s arms fell to her sides.

  Sage exhaled and leaned against a wall outside the ballroom.

  “You coming back in?” Amelia asked.

  “I’m going to wait out here a while. Get my event jitters under control.” Sage crossed her arms.

  “I’ll come back for you in a few minutes, so you can give everything the once-over before we open the doors for our guests.”

  Sage nodded her agreement. After Amelia disappeared into the ballroom, she closed her eyes and pressed the back of her head against the wall.

  “Relax, everything is going to turn out fine.” She whispered the mantra aloud, and then took a few deep breaths.

  When she opened them she could hear the faint din of hammers, drills and machinery coming from the direction of the hotel’s Grand Ballroom. The racket had died down considerably since she and her team had come in to set up at dawn this morning. Sage had spoken to the hotel manager, who assured her the workers would be done before Stiletto’s event started.

  Pushing off the wall, Sage walked around the corner to the larger ballroom to investigate. Approximately triple the size of the smaller Petite Ballroom she’d rented for Stiletto, the hotel’s premier ballroom took up over half this floor of the hotel. Orange construction cones sat at both entrances, and strips of yellow-and-black tape stretched across the closed doors.

  As Sage looked at it, she couldn’t help hoping Stiletto’s next event would be bigger, better and held in the hotel’s premiere ballroom.

  First, she had to make sure today was a success.

  Sage glanced at her watch, and then looked up to see a woman she recognized from her YouTube videos, standing at the escalators. She was talking to a hotel worker, who was pointing the way to Stiletto’s venue.

  It was almost showtime.

  Sage exhaled. She’d make a quick pit stop to the ladies’ room to check her makeup before returning to the Petite Ballroom. The construction racket in the Grand Ballroom seemed to have slowed to just the occasional hammer or drill, so she didn’t have to worry about it drowning out Stiletto’s party.

  She lifted her hand to push open the bathroom door. The sound of her name coming from the other side of it stopped her.

  “Y’all are out of line.” It was Amelia. “Sage is a good boss.”

  Sage knew she should either make her presence known or walk away. Nothing good ever came from eavesdropping. However, hearing her assistant use her real name threw her.

  “Well, she certainly isn’t this morning. Did you see the way she treated my fiancé? He brought me a giant stuffed panda, and she wouldn’t even let him in the ballroom to give it to me.”

  Sage heard her assistant’s voice. “Come on, Shelia—this is a big day for Stiletto. How would you have gotten anything done with a four-foot stuffed bear in your arms?”

  A third voice chimed in. It belonged to Stiletto’s customer service manager. “Maybe if she had her own man, she wouldn’t be hating so hard on those of us who do.”

  “How do you know she doesn’t have someone special?” her assistant asked.

  Sage’s stomach did a free fall as she recalled the scene her assistant had walked in on when she’d practically glued her mouth to Cole’s. She touched her fingertips to her lips at the memory.

  While she trusted Amelia not to gossip, Sage silently prayed the young woman wouldn’t inadvertently reveal what she’d seen trying to defend her.

  “You’re joking, right?” Shelia’s laughter came through the door. “What man could handle the general’s hard ass?”

  “One who likes seeing her wear his balls as earrings,” the customer service manager quipped before joining in the laughter.

  If her eyes had been laser beams, Sage was sure they would have seared two perfectly round holes through the bathroom door by now. However, a small part of her couldn’t help feeling stung by the kernel of truth in their words. Sage knew she could be both tough and intimidating, and if her track record in the romance department was any indication, most men couldn’t handle it.

  A brief flash of the kiss she had shared with Cole popped into her head. No doubt the man could handle anything she threw at him, including herself.

  Sage heard Amelia clear her throat, propelling her to force the wayward images of Cole from her head.

  “If Sage wasn’t such a hard-ass and a perfectionist, Stiletto would have failed like most start-up businesses do in this tough economy,” she said. “And Shelia, you’d still be using that master’s degree in medieval literature to take breakfast orders at the Waffle House.”

  You tell her, Amelia, Sage thought. She decided against walking in on them. It would only make them uncomfortable when she needed them focused on today’s event. Besides, she didn’t hire the other women to be her best friends. They were there to do their jobs, and they both did them well.

  After retouching her lipstick in another bathroom, Sage started to make her way back to the Petite Ballroom. She heard the clamor of women chatting excitedly as she rounded the corner and was delighted to see a throng of amateur makeup mavens waiting for the doors to open.

  Sage spotting a waving arm and then saw Amelia pushing through the crowd. “I’ve been looking all over for you,” she said. “We’re ready for inspection, General. As soon as you give your seal of approval, we can open the doors.”

  Sage noted the irony as she walked through the ballroom, taking in even the smallest details. While the rest of her employees used her name to h
er face and sneakily called her General behind her back, Amelia did just the opposite. There was never any subterfuge with her assistant. She remained honest and loyal, and said what needed to be said, even when Sage didn’t make it easy.

  Elevating the young woman to basically her second in command at Stiletto had been one of her wisest decisions.

  Sage picked up one of the attendee name tags to double-check that it included Twitter and Instagram handles. She placed it back on the table and contemplated another run through her checklist.

  “Stop stressing,” Amelia said. “You made sure everything is perfect. What could possibly go wrong?”

  “You’re right. Let’s open the doors for our guests and enjoy some of our hard work.

  Ten minutes later, Sage stood on the dais at the front of the room filled with women wild for makeup. Their energy fueled her excitement and boosted her confidence.

  “Welcome to Stiletto’s first annual blogger appreciation social.” She spoke into the microphone.

  Applause erupted in the ballroom, and she paused before continuing the short speech she’d prepared. Her assistant had been right.

  This was Stiletto’s moment, and absolutely nothing could go wrong.

  * * *

  Cole took mental inventory as he stood in the middle of the hotel’s Grand Ballroom. It had taken two crews working around the clock to transform it. Now all that was left were a few finishing touches.

  “Looks like we just might pull this off,” he said.

  Loretta grunted and looked down at her ever-present tablet computer. “I don’t see why I had to leave the office to come down here to supervise. Your aunt sent her best workers.”

  “People tend to work faster and better with you watching them,” Cole said. “It’s your gift.”

  Fortunately, his father’s side of the family was in the construction business, and they were able to take on the last-minute job. Cole didn’t remember his father, but he remained close to the Sinclairs. One short conference call with his aunt and cousins explaining the situation and what he needed, and they were eager to help.