Trust Me on This - Jennifer Crusie [12]
“Well, stay with her,” Harry said. “I’ll be there in a couple of hours. You sure your aunt will play along?”
“My aunt will play anything.” Alec dismissed Victoria to think about Dennie Banks again. “You know, I really am disappointed in this Banks woman. Up close, she looks like a class act.”
“You’re getting too damn old to be that dumb,” Harry said.
“Thank you, Harry,” Alec said. “I needed that. Now tell me I’m ugly.”
“You’re ugly,” Harry said. “Watch her.”
Brian Bond studied his reflection in the mirror and nodded. He still had it, Sherée’s desertion notwithstanding. The looks, the charm, the shy, boyish killer smile. They all said, “Trust me on this,” and people did. Certainly no woman could resist once he set his sights on her.
And his sights were on the brunette. He’d seen her again, coming out of the bar that afternoon. A drinker. That was good. It’d make her easy to find. She’d be back in the bar again, he’d pour a few drinks down her, and pow. Another Bond triumph.
He smiled at his reflection and headed for the elevator to sell real estate and fake honesty before he sold the brunette on a night in his room.
When the brass elevator doors opened at the nineteenth floor, Alec stood face-to-face with a white-haired woman dressed in navy silk and gold braid. She beamed at him as she stepped in. “Darling!”
“Good. I was coming to talk to you.” Alec leaned over and kissed her cheek, smiling because she was so cute and he was so glad to see her. “Nice getup, Aunt Vic. Planning on invading something?”
She laughed and saluted him as the elevator doors closed. “The military look is very stylish now. God knows why. Probably nostalgia for the Reagan years. But it’s also wonderfully flattering. It’s amazing how distracting gold braid can be.” She frowned at the red velvet–covered elevator walls. “And it’s not easy to stand out in this place. Who was their decorator, that Biddle Barrows woman?”
“I like it,” Alec said.
“With your libido, you would,” Victoria said. “What did you do all afternoon? Seduce the natives?”
“Waited for you, of course,” Alec lied.
“Right.” Victoria narrowed her eyes. “I left a message for you to meet me in the Ivy Room for lunch, but you didn’t. What are you up to? Are you doing something for that secret agency of yours?”
“Shhhh,” Alec said to the empty elevator.
“And you’re awfully dressed up since you didn’t know you’d run into me.” His aunt looked at him in disgust. “You’ve picked up a blonde and asked her out to dinner, haven’t you?”
“A brunette. Listen, I need—”
The elevator doors opened, and Victoria sailed out. “Don’t worry,” she said tartly. “I won’t cramp your style.”
Alec followed her with exasperated affection. “You never do. Most of the time I cramp yours.”
Victoria sniffed. “Nobody cramps my style.”
Alec caught up with her. “That’s why I worry. You’re running around with my last name, diving into fountains. Why didn’t you keep your married name?”
“Why should I? I didn’t keep my husband.”
Alec tried to look stern. “It’s time you settled down.”
“Me?” Victoria snorted. “What about you?”
“Why should I settle down? I’m having a great time.”
“That’s your problem. You always have a great time.” Victoria surveyed him critically. “You need some trauma in your life.”
“Hey,” Alec said. “I thought you loved me.”
“I do,” Victoria said over her shoulder as she headed for the restaurant. “But I worry about you. Things come too easily for you. Women, work, it all just falls into your lap.”
“I work very hard at what I do. Which reminds me—”
Victoria turned in the middle of the lobby and nailed him with her eyes. “Have you ever failed? At anything?”
“Of course, I haven’t failed.” Alec was outraged. “I just told you—”
“If you haven’t failed, you’re not trying hard enough.”
Alec glared at her. “Who told you this garbage?”
“A friend of mine. Janice Meredith.”
“Meredith.” Alec frowned. “The feminist what-sit. Marriage