She had a plan of attack. She would have felt bad for Wes if she wasn’t looking forward to destroying his chances of getting to Dot Voline.
He never should have interfered with her at the gate. Wes was doomed.
Five
Wes had certain beliefs in life. The first was that knowing where to find information was more important than knowing the fact itself. The second was good grooming could make up for any number of perceived physical flaws. The last and most relevant to this particular moment was that the key to success in any endeavor was persistence.
Naturally not to the point of harassment, he thought as he drove to Voline’s house the next day. In the passenger seat was a huge bouquet of opulent red roses and birds of paradise for the larger-than-life woman whose photos he’d analyzed, looking for a clue to her personality that might help him snag an interview. A huge monstera leaf completed the magnificent arrangement and made the entire thing a struggle to carry. It would be worth it, though, if it got him in. Rebecca wanted her story.
He wasn’t surprised when he pulled up to see Nadine’s filthy white car already there. If anyone else shared his third tenet of life, it was Nadine, who was waving a gigantic box of chocolates as she spoke into the intercom.
Wes fixed his belt—a match to his polished chestnut oxfords, sincehe felt Voline would appreciate a well-dressed man—and extricated his flowers.
Nadine assessed the armful of blooms. “Was a funeral home having a sale on leftovers?” she said.
He ignored her and hit the button. “Ms. Voline? It’s Wes Chen from theSpear.”
The intercom came to life. “Chocolates and flowers? The two of you have the seduction game of a teenager asking his crush to prom.”
Nadine stared at the gate with the set expression Wes had learned to mistrust. “These are my favorite brigadeiros.” Nadine slowly untied the ribbon. “The raspberry is incredible. So is the Mexican spice if you prefer some heat.”
“Never had them,” said Voline.
“That’s too bad.” The rows of perfectly round chocolates glinted like jewels in the sun, and Nadine selected one, staring at the camera as she bit in. “Ohh,” she said as if taken by surprise. “It’s good. Sogood.”
Wes felt his neck get hot as he watched Nadine eat. Then she made a noise. A noise that wasn’t quite a moan but immediately had Wes on full alert. The last time he’d heard a woman sound that satisfied, he’d been in bed. Naked.
This was not what he should be thinking of in conjunction with Nadine.
Making it worse, Nadine made eye contact with Wes as she spoke into the intercom. “They’re rich,” she said, her voice husky. “The perfect amount of creamy sweetness.”
“What are you doing?” He tried to whisper, but it came out as a croak.
Nadine’s glance turned haughty. “I am eating a chocolate.”
She was eating a chocolate in the same way Lewis Hamilton was a guy who drove a car. The intensity didn’t match the action. “No, you’re not. No one eats like that.”
A snorting laugh came from the intercom. “Sounds like someone’snever had the right kind of sweet,” said Voline.
The heat on his neck blossomed over his face as Nadine turned back to the box. She swept her tongue along her lower lip before choosing a second one. His palms were so sweaty, his grip slipped on the flowers. This was verging on pornographic. She was evil.
Nadine saw him watching and snatched the box away. “Keep your hands to yourself,” she hissed. “Do you know how much these cost? They’re the best in the city.”
Right, it was the chocolates that had his attention.
“I said go,” snapped Voline. There was a pause. “I suppose you can leave the brigadeiros. No point wasting them. Although you might want to give a couple to handsome there.”
“I would do that when hell freezes over,” said Nadine in a chipper voice. She closed the box and slid it under the gate. “I hope you like them.”
Wes ground his teeth as he tucked his rejected flowers between the bars. After all, it wasn’t like he was going to keep them, and he refused to give them to Nadine, who gazed at him with the contented smile of a woman who had completely trounced her opponent.
“Have a good day, Ms. Voline,” he said evenly. “By the way, I was wondering if I could get your comment on—”
“Chocolates aren’t real food,” she grumbled. “Been ages since I had a pizza. Egg rolls. Now get out of here before I call the cops.”
Wes tried again. “Ms. Voline, it will only take—”
“Thecops.”
