Sultry Nights. Donna Hill
don’t get ticked when folks buy into the charade.”
Trevor rubbed his chin. “I have more than one suit, you know.”
“Really? You mean you bought one since college graduation?”
Trevor’s features creased. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Very funny. I should go like this,” he said, and stretched out his arms to display his plaid work shirt, faded jeans and construction boots.
“Forget about the front door. You wouldn’t get past the parking lot.” He took the damp blueprint and draped it over the drafting table to dry. “Let’s go for a ride.”
“Where?”
“My tailor does amazing work. And he’s fast. I can’t have you going to the Chateau and ruining my rep.”
“Your rep?”
“Yeah, it might get out that we’re business partners. I go there at least once a month when I have a lovely lady that I want to impress. And the suites upstairs…”
“Suites?”
“Yes. About a half dozen. Damned hard to secure one, though if you do, trust me, it’s well worth it.”
“I take it you’ve “secured one” from time to time.”
“Of course.” He grinned.
“Why am I not surprised?”
Max Hunt was not only a savvy businessman and brilliant designer, but a connoisseur of all things expensive: clothes, cars, homes and women. He didn’t have the same hang-ups that Trevor did about the millions that they had amassed over the years, much of which was due to Max’s astute understanding of the financial markets and Trevor’s keen sense of what was going to take off and what wasn’t. Together they were a formidable team, and as opposite on most issues as day and night—clothing being one of them.
“Trust me, he’ll hook you up and believe me, my brother—” he stepped up to him and straightened the collar of his un-ironed plaid shirt “—you could really use it.”
Max adjusted his burgundy tie and fastened the single button on his metal-gray Armani suit jacket that Trevor guesstimated cost at least a thousand dollars.
“How much is this going to set me back, Max?”
“Price is not a factor when you’re trying to impress a woman.”
“Who said I was trying to impress a woman?”
Max grinned. “You didn’t have to. It’s all over my blueprint.” He laughed. “Come on, let’s go.”
* * *
“Wait, let me get this straight,” Zoe was saying as she bounced one twin on her thigh and bottle fed his sister in the stroller.
Dominique looked on in amazement. It was still hard for her to put “mommy” and Zoe Beaumont-Treme in the same picture, but here she was. Totally domesticated, like a lioness that was raised by humans. Dominique fully expected that one of these days Zoe was going to realize that she was supposed to run free in the wild and she’d show up on her doorstep with a suitcase and a plane ticket to the Caribbean, saying, “let’s go.” But when Dominique witnessed the expression of pure adoration in Zoe’s eyes when she looked at her babies, Mikayla and Mikai, she wasn’t so sure if that day would ever come.
“You told Lee Ann and Desi that you met someone and that someone is your contractor?” she asked in utter disbelief.
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