Just 4 Play. Cindi Myers
Plenty of people get along fine without candy pants and nipple rings.”
“Only because they don’t know what they’re missing.” Inspiration sent tingles up her spine. She grinned. “I’ve got it!”
Sid leaned away from her. “Got what?”
“I know how we can convince Mitch Landry not to close the store.”
“How?”
She plucked a jar of body chocolate from a display on the counter and began rolling it back and forth in her palms. “I think a little seduction is in order.” She looked at Sid. “I’ll make sure our Mr. Landry gets acquainted with the delights of some of our merchandise.”
A pleasant warmth curled up from her stomach as the idea took hold. Really, it was a brilliant plan. Mitch Landry wasn’t a bad person, merely uninformed. He had a great body and definite masculine appeal. It might even be fun to strip away some of his stuffy attitude and inhibitions, not to mention that suit and starched shirt.
Sid looked skeptical. “You think that would really make any difference?”
She set the jar of chocolate on the counter. “Sure it would. Once he’s having so much fun with the stuff we sell, it would be hypocritical to close us down.”
“You think he’d care about that?”
“You heard the man. It’s not about money for him, it’s about reputation. Responsibilities. He’s got integrity up to his eyeballs.” She gave a mock salute. “No, I just have to find a way to get him to loosen up.” Half the fun would be knowing where to start.
Sid shook his head. “I don’t know, Jill. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to get personally involved.”
“Oh come on, I’m a big girl. It’s not as if I plan to get serious with the guy. We’ll just have a little fun.”
“He might not feel the same way. He struck me as the type who takes everything seriously.”
She shrugged off the truth of Sid’s words. Seducing Mitch Landry would be a dangerous game, but nobody had ever mistaken her for a coward. “I’ll be doing him a favor by showing him how to lighten up.”
“And if it doesn’t work?”
She leaned on the counter, chin in her hands, and smiled to herself. “Then I’ll have a hell of a lot of fun trying, won’t I?”
3
MITCH WAS FIVE MINUTES LATE to meet Lana, but he wasn’t worried, because she was guaranteed to be ten minutes late. It was one of the things that annoyed him about her. That and her tendency to be arrogant, but he supposed that came from always being at the top of the social heap.
Still, in any relationship, you had to overlook certain things. Lana had other qualities he admired: she was attractive, well-dressed, intelligent and elegant. And she had the kind of connections he needed to establish himself as a businessman in this town. Not that he’d ever date a woman solely for her social status, but it was an added plus when you were trying to get ahead.
She breezed through the double doors of the bank lobby right on schedule, at ten after. Mitch rose from his chair and went to meet her, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “Careful,” she cautioned, pushing him back. “I just had my hair done.”
Why that should make any difference, he wasn’t sure. It wasn’t as if he was going to run his fingers all through her hair in the course of a hello kiss. Not that he could anyway, she kept it so firmly pinned in place.
“Lana, darling, you look lovely as ever.” Morton Montgomery emerged from his office to greet them. He patted his daughter’s shoulder and shook Mitch’s hand. “I’ve got all the paperwork ready for you. Why don’t you come right in and we’ll go over it all.”
Mitch followed Lana and her father into an office whose predominant theme was dead animals. Mounts of bighorn sheep, deer, elk, moose and even a mountain lion occupied most of the wall space. Mitch took a chair with his back to the lion and smothered an expression of distaste.
“So have you had a chance to check out the property yet?” Mort asked as he settled into a full-grained leather executive chair.
“I was over there this afternoon. I must say, it’s not at all what I thought it would be.”
Mort pursed his lips and nodded. “Still, not the sort of place you’d want your name associated with.”
“What sort of place is it?” Lana looked at him, a pleasant expression on her perfectly made-up face.
Mort cleared his throat. Mitch resented the warning. He’d already agreed Lana didn’t need to know the nature of the business he’d inherited. “Nothing special.” He waved away the question. “A restaurant will do much better in that location, I’m convinced.” His throat tightened only a little at the lie. He had been convinced a restaurant was a better financial venture until he’d seen the books at Just 4 Play. So convinced he’d sold most of his other real estate around town in order to put everything into this new enterprise. But who would have thought there could be so much money in sex?
“We’ve already had an appraisal done.” Mort handed across a folder. “And here’s the preliminary paperwork for the construction loan. You’ll have no problem qualifying for the funds you need. All we’re waiting on now are the architectural plans and the permits from the city.”
“I should have everything ready in thirty days.” He closed the folder and returned it to the banker.
“Excellent. I think this is going to be an excellent investment, Mitch. Something we can all be proud of.” Mort grinned. “So do you two have plans for the evening?”
“We have reservations at the Boulderado.” Lana picked up her purse and stood. “We need to leave now, or we’ll be late.”
On the way to the restaurant, Mitch only half listened to Lana’s account of an annoying client who’d visited her CPA firm that day. He was replaying the conversation in Mort’s office. Why did it bother him that Mort had said the restaurant was something they could “all” be proud of? Wasn’t Mitch the one who was doing all the work? Wasn’t he the one who’d earned the right to be proud—or not? Or did Mort think a simple business loan gave him control over the project—and over Mitch?
The maître d’ at the Boulderado welcomed them with a smile and escorted them to their favorite table in the atrium. “Should I have the wine steward bring your usual?” he asked.
“Yes, James, that will be fine,” Lana said as she settled into her chair.
James started to leave, but Mitch stopped him. “Wait. Instead of the merlot, let’s have a chianti.”
James and Lana both stared at him. “But we always have the merlot,” Lana said.
He nodded and spread his napkin across his lap. “Tonight, I’d like something different.”
“Yes, sir.” James hurried away.
Lana regarded him with a half smile on her lips. “Feeling feisty tonight, are we?”
“Something wrong with that?” He kept his voice light, but there was no mistaking the challenge in the words.
“No. It’s just not like you to be so…different.”
The truth of her words wounded him. Maybe Uncle Grif had been right. Maybe he was a stick in the mud. Well, that didn’t mean he had to stay that way. People changed. He could change without sacrificing his integrity in the process.
He started by ordering broiled trout for dinner instead of his usual prime rib. Lana compressed her lips into a thin line, but said nothing. Mitch sipped the excellent wine and regarded her over the rim of the glass. Her dark hair was drawn back from her face and gathered in a low knot, the kind ballerinas wore. He supposed people would say she had