Wilde Thing

Chapter 6

A few minutes before seven that evening, the familiar rumble of a motorcycle pulling up in front of the cafe caught Liz's attention and caused an immediate current of anticipation to ripple through her. Since all her customers were taken care of and her two second-shift employees had the tables covered, she started making the drink Steve always ordered- a caramel frappuccino, extra caramel.

As she blended the concoction, she watched him through the plate-glass window as he took off his helmet and combed his thick, tousled hair with his fingers. He slid off his bike in one smooth motion and retrieved what appeared to be a leather portfolio from the back compartment. Breathtakingly gorgeous and sinfully sexy, he strolled into the establishment, made eye contact with her, and winked. The private greeting started a slow melting sensation in the pit of her belly.

He made his way to the vacant couch in the corner, and she experienced a twinge of insecurity when she realized a group of flirtatious, model-thin women were doing their best to get his attention. There had always been a part of her that believed she hadn't been good enough to please Travis, that her body wasn't perfect enough, thus causing him to stray from their marriage. And those old self-doubts were obviously rearing their ugly heads with Steve, who could have any woman of his choosing.

She firmly reminded herself that he'd chosen her, and for the time being he seemed completely satisfied and dedicated. To his credit, he didn't seem to notice the other women who were staring at him, waiting for a smile or some other token acknowledgment as he passed their tables. A few of the interested females appeared miffed by his indifference, and Liz was admittedly amused by his subtle rejection.

Back off girls, she thought with a bit of triumph. He's all mine.

Katie, a young college student who worked part-time in the evenings while going to school during the day, rounded the counter. "Do you want me to go take his order?" she asked.

"No, I've got it." Liz poured the drink into a plastic cup. "I'm going to take a break, but I'll be right over there if you need me for anything." She indicated Steve.

With a nod, the young girl picked up a damp rag and went to wipe down tables.

Liz topped the drink off with a small mountain of real whipped cream and drizzled a generous amount of caramel sauce on top of that, having learned that there was no such thing as too much caramel for that macho bad boy of hers.

Minutes later, she was delivering the drink to him in the private, semisecluded corner he'd picked, away from other patrons. "Hey, there," she said softly, her whole being fairly zinging with instantaneous awareness as she sat down beside him on the couch.

He graced her with a bone-melting smile that kicked up her pulse yet another notch. "Hey, yourself," he murmured, his tone as warm and intimate as the genuine affection glimmering in his eyes. He reached for his drink and poked a straw into the thick mixture. "I'm not going to get in trouble for fraternizing with the help during working hours, am I?"

Hearing the teasing note in his voice, she leaned back against the sofa cushion and relaxed, intending to enjoy her time with him in a casual environment. Their knees touched, and the slight physical connection between them seemed as natural as breathing. "Since I'm the boss, the only person you have to answer to is me."

"That doesn't sound like such a bad deal." He waggled his brows at her as he took a drink; then a long, low, appreciative moan escaped him. "God, you give good caramel frappuccinos."

The man was so outrageous, she couldn't help but laugh. And it felt so good to do so when her life had been much too serious lately. "What's this sweet tooth you've got for caramel?"

"It goes way back, to when I was a little kid," he said easily. "Whenever I'd go to my grandmother's as a boy, she'd always have caramel squares tucked into her apron pocket, and she'd share them with me. It was as if that pocket never ran empty, and sneaking and eating those caramels became a special treat for me since my mother didn't have them at home."

A fond smile softened his masculine features, giving her a rare glimpse of an endearing side to Steve that stirred a reciprocating tenderness within her. She turned more fully toward him and stretched her arm along the back of the sofa, her fingers inches away from touching his broad shoulder. She could feel the heat of his body, could smell his clean, masculine scent, and wished they were alone.

"I always thought it was our little secret, until my brothers told me that they got those same caramel squares from Grandma's apron pocket," he said with a feigned grumble. "I remember being so crushed when I found out about that, and ticked at my brothers for horning in on what I thought of as my treats. We actually got into a fight over it."

She chuckled, loving his story and imagining what mischievous rascals he and his siblings must have been. "You have brothers?"

"Two of them. Eric and Adrian. I'm the oldest, and they always were a pain in my ass when we were growing up." His gruff tone was underscored with a begrudging affection for his siblings.

As much as she wished he'd elaborate on his brothers and family beyond that tidbit, he didn't, and she didn't feel it was her right to pry for more. She was more afraid that if she learned too much about him, she'd grow to like him more than was prudent. "Obviously you weren't traumatized too badly by the incident, since your love for caramel hasn't diminished."

"Not in the least. As a kid, I loved the sweet, buttery flavor. Now, as an adult, I think of caramel as rich, creamy… and highly seductive." He dipped and swirled his index finger into the sauce covering the mound of whipped cream, then brought that caramel-coated digit less than an inch away from her mouth. "Taste it and tell me what you think."

Her pulse leaped at the provocative game he was instigating in a very open public place. The wicked look in his eyes dared her to play, and she knew she had two options-to revert to the sensible, practical woman she'd been for three years and push his hand away, or to embrace her newly emerging sensual side and indulge in his brazen challenge.

She quickly assessed the situation and their position. They were in a corner of the lounge area, his wide shoulders turned toward her and angled in a way that shielded her from prying eyes and gave them a cloak of seclusion. And that was all the reassurance she needed to match his shameless actions.

He grew impatient, touching her lips with the sticky-sweet confection, boldly pressing them apart. She held his gaze and obeyed his silent command, opening for him, letting him slide his finger into the warm, wet recesses of her mouth.

She knew what caramel tasted like. She was one of those rare females who preferred the buttery, rich candy over chocolate, but she never knew how arousing it could be when mixed with the flavor of hot, salty male flesh. Never knew how turned on she could get by lapping the treat off a man's finger. And judging by the tense set of Steve's jaw, the quickening rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, he was equally transfixed by the sexual connotation inherent in her stimulating performance.

He started to pull his hand back, but she encircled his wrist and stopped him before he could withdraw. He might have been the one to start this scandalous stunt, but she intended to finish it. She swirled her soft tongue around his long finger, grazed the length with her teeth, and nibbled the tip before taking him deep into her mouth again and sucking the last of the sweetness from his skin.

His breath hissed out between his teeth, and his pupils dilated-dark, hot, and glittering with a fierce hunger that gave Liz a sense of feminine power. The erection bulging against the fly of his jeans thrilled her, and knowing she was pushing Steve to the edge of his restraint, she finally released his finger.

"Definitely rich, creamy, and seductive," she murmured, and slowly dragged her tongue along her lower lip. "I think I just discovered a new aphrodisiac."

"Caramel?" he asked, his voice tight.

A beguiling smile tipped the corners of her mouth. "When it's drizzled over the right dessert."

His nostrils flared as her meaning sank in, and a slash of color highlighted his cheekbones. "If we weren't in a room full of your customers and employees, you'd be flat on your back right now and I'd be the one licking that caramel sauce off your body. Every single delicious inch of it."

The image of that erotic fantasy caused her nipples to pucker so tight they hurt. Her sex felt wet, swollen, and she managed-just barely-to maintain her composure and strove for a reckless, fearless reply. "You think so?"

He growled, the primitive sound sending delightful shivers down her spine. "Don't tempt me, sweetheart."

His tone was playfully intimidating, and while she didn't think he'd really follow through on his sexy threat and take her right there on the sofa, she wouldn't put it past him to haul her off to the storage room or women's restroom to have his way with her.

He released a harsh exhale and shifted in his seat. Setting his drink on the secondhand oak table in front of the couch, he grabbed the leather binder he'd walked in with.

"Let's talk business," he muttered, and unzipped the portfolio, revealing an all-in-one management system. He flipped to a tabbed section marked Liz, which contained pages of notes in his masculine handwriting. "Going on the passport tip you gave me about Valerie, I checked to see if an international or domestic flight had been bought under her name."

Forgetting their fun, sexy exchange in favor of information on her cousin, Liz focused on Steve and what he'd discovered. "And what did you find out?" she asked anxiously.

"Nothing on that, unfortunately." He thumbed through a few pages and skimmed over more written information. "I also managed to check the charges on her credit cards to see if she'd purchased a ticket from some other source, and again, no luck."

Hope kicked up the beat of Liz's heart. "So then, you think she's still here in Chicago?"

"No, not necessarily. Rob could have purchased an airline ticket for her," he said pragmatically. "As for your cousin, she made a bunch of other charges on her credit card, mainly clothing and lingerie purchases."

That detail didn't surprise Liz. "That's nothing unusual. Valerie has always been a clotheshorse." And very frivolous in her spending habits.

"It was a big expense, nearly a grand in all, which seems excessive, especially since the purchases were made all in one day. I went to the place the charges were made, talked to a few salespeople, and showed them the picture of your cousin that you gave me, but didn't get more than a confirmation that she'd been there."

His dark brows drew together in further speculation. "And there was also a four-hundred-and-fifty-dollar charge to a luggage store, which seemed pretty steep for an overnight bag. So, I followed up on the charge and found out it was for a full set of luggage, including a garment bag."

Liz's eyes widened. "I had no idea."

He studied her for a long moment. "You and your cousin aren't that close, are you?"

"We were raised together," she said, and heard the defensive note creep into her tone. "We're as close as sisters are."

"But you don't share a whole lot of stuff like sisters who live together would," he said, making his point in a gentle but direct way.

"No." The words felt thick in her throat. "Despite being raised together, we both have very distinctly different personalities, and that has contributed to a lot of strain between us over the years."

There was more, such as the old resentments her cousin harbored, and Valerie's craving for attention, that had shaped her into the impetuous, reckless woman she'd become. But Liz felt partially accountable for that drastic change in her cousin, because she'd come into Valerie's life unexpectedly, forcing her to adjust from being an only child, whom her parents absolutely doted upon, to having another girl-a rival in her eyes-steal away half of everything that was hers.

"I love Valerie," she said quietly, "and I'll obviously do anything for her, but no, I wouldn't call us best friends."

The admission hurt, more than she realized. Ever since the day she'd moved in with her aunt and uncle at the tender young age of twelve, Liz had always yearned for Valerie's friendship, and yes, on some level, her approval. She'd always wanted a sister, and she'd done her best to create that special bond between her and Val until she realized that her cousin had no desire to share anything with her beyond what was necessary. Still, Liz had always held out the foolish hope that Valerie would come around and change her mind about their being friends.

Steve stared at her with those intelligent eyes of his that seemed to reach deep into her soul and tug on emotions she'd spent years keeping under wraps, just as he had last night when he'd coaxed her to talk about Travis.

She grew uncomfortable beneath his penetrating gaze and wondered if he could sense her internal guilt-her sense of obligation both to Valerie and to her aunt and uncle for everything they'd sacrificed for her by taking her in when her parents died.

She looked away and inhaled a deep, calming breath. "What else did you find out?"

Much to her relief, he didn't pursue the emotional issue and smoothly veered back into their business discussion. "According to some bank information I was able to trace, Valerie made a five-hundred-dollar cash withdrawal from her savings account on Friday." He closed his portfolio and laid it back on the coffee table. "All those purchases and that cash advance happened last week, which leads me to believe that she was preparing for a trip."

His believable theory eased Liz's worry, but she wasn't willing to stake her cousin's life on an assumption, and she doubted Steve would, either. She needed to locate Valerie, hear her voice, and be reassured that she was safe and off somewhere of her own free will-before her Aunt Sally called again and put Liz into the position of lying to her or revealing the truth and admitting that Valerie had taken off with a man she knew nothing about, doing Lord knew what.

"What do we do from here?" she asked, trusting him to guide her through the next phase of his investigation.

He placed his palm on her jean-clad thigh and squeezed gently. "We follow through on our original plan with The Ultimate Fantasy."

She found his touch not only reassuring but sensual as well, since he didn't remove his hand after branding her with that warm and comforting gesture. The heat of his fingers seeped through her jeans, singeing her skin and senses. Her pulse fluttered in her throat as she vividly remembered the exquisite feel of those fingers stroking over her body, petting her. The way they'd slipped deep inside her sex and set her on fire.

"Nothing's changed if you want more in-depth information about your cousin's whereabouts," he went on, oblivious to her aroused thoughts. "Other than what I've told you, I'm at a dead end with Valerie, which means the rest of this case, and finding your cousin, hinges on the man she's supposedly with. And all we have to go on is The Ultimate Fantasy and getting invited to one of those parties so we can at least find out a last name for Rob, so I can investigate who he is and put a trace on him, which will, hopefully, lead to your cousin."

She nodded, knowing he was right.

"Ohmigosh, is that you, Steve?" A light, feminine voice drifted toward them, her tone full of bubbly surprise. "I'll be damned; it is you."

The sudden appearance of a regular Daily Grind customer coming to a stop beside Steve jolted through Liz, making her excruciatingly aware of the intimacy of their position, and the familiarity evident in those possessive fingers of his curling around her thigh. She attempted to shift casually away, to give him the opportunity to remove his hand just as nonchalantly, but the pressure he exerted with his palm forced her to remain just where she was.

"Hello, Jill," Steve said with an affable smile as he glanced up at the other woman. "Fancy meeting you here."

Since Jill was a frequent patron, Liz knew her first name, too, and had grown to like the other woman who was always so friendly when she came into the cafe. She wondered what Jill's connection to Steve was, since they appeared to know each other quite well.

"I should say the same for you." Jill lifted an inquiring brow at Steve, her green eyes sparkling with amusement. "I didn't think froufrou drinks were your style. What are you doing here?"

He took no offense to her teasing his manhood. "I'm enjoying the drinks and the atmosphere," he drawled, his words easily infused with double meaning, depending on how the recipient chose to analyze the situation.

Jill glanced from his drink on the table to Liz and grinned. "Hmm, so I see," she said, obviously drawing her own conclusions about what the atmosphere had to offer.

Steve's thumb absently stroked back and forth along Liz's thigh, but his gaze remained on Jill. "And what are you doing here?"

Jill adjusted the thin strap of her designer purse over her shoulder. "Eric and I went out for dinner to celebrate a big advertising account I finished that's kept me tied up for the past month, and we both thought coffee sounded good before we headed home."

Liz took that as her cue to make a smooth getaway. "I guess I should get those drinks for you."

"Stay put." Jill held out a manicured hand to stop Liz before she could stand up, her expression firm. "You look like you're enjoying your break, and that's what you have extra employees here for, isn't it?" Without waiting for a reply, she motioned Katie over with a smile.

"She's a take-charge kind of woman," Steve said out of the corner of his mouth, though he didn't bother to keep his comment from Jill's listening ears.

"Only when I need to be." Jill tossed back her sleek auburn hair and winked conspiratorially at Liz. "I've learned with these Wilde men that I have to take charge when the opportunity presents itself."

Boy, could Liz ever relate to that with Steve, who seemed to hold tight to the reins of control when it came to the two of them. Obviously, the dominating trait ran in the family.

While Jill placed her order with Katie, Steve stood up and dragged two nearby chairs over to their corner spot, as if he was resigned to the fact that their guest would remain, invited or not. Once Jill was seated and Steve slid back into his spot next to Liz, he glanced from Liz to the woman sitting across from them.

"I take it the two of you already know one another?" he guessed.

"We're on a first-name basis," Liz said, and rubbed the tingly spot on her thigh now that Steve's hand was no longer there. "She's a fairly frequent customer in the mornings, though I had no idea that the two of you knew one another." A shameless throwaway comment that begged for more information, which Jill was only too happy to supply.

"I'm dating his brother, Eric."

One of the brothers Liz had been so curious about earlier. What a small world it was. She recalled seeing Jill with a dark-haired, good-looking guy a time or two, and had always assumed it was her boyfriend by the way the other man had doted on her, their affection for one another tangible.

Katie arrived with two chilled lattes, and when Jill went to pull her wallet from her purse to pay for her order, Liz waved away her attempt. "Your drinks are on the house tonight."

Appreciation brightened Jill's eyes. "How kind. Thank you."

Steve stretched his arm across the back of the sofa, his fingers grazing the back of Liz's neck and causing a smattering of goose bumps to rise on her skin. Was he deliberately throwing her off balance? If so, he was doing a darn good job of keeping her very aware of him, and not bothering to hide his attraction to her.

"So, where is my brother?" he asked Jill.

"He dropped me off out front, and since all the parking spaces were taken, he had to drive around back and find one there. He should be here any second." Jill glanced toward the front of the cafe, and her expression lit up when a tall, well-built man strolled in. Unlike Steve, who seemed to live in jeans, his brother wore a neatly pressed shirt, khakis, and loafers.

Searching blue eyes, just as striking as Steve's, swept over the customers in the establishment, and Jill waved to get his attention. Just as Steve had walked through the cafe with single-minded purpose earlier and hadn't seemed to notice the other women ogling him, Eric did the same, his gaze locked on his girlfriend as he approached-until he caught sight of Steve sitting on the couch across from Jill.

"Well, what do we have here?" Eric assessed his brother with interest and a flash of humor as he sat in the chair next to Jill's. "I didn't know they allowed riffraff in this place."

"If they allow you in, they'll obviously allow anyone in," Steve countered smoothly, though it was obvious their ribbing was based in mutual masculine comradery.

Jill rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Knock it off, you two," she chastised lightly, then laid a hand on Eric's arm and launched into introductions. "Eric, you remember Liz, the owner of the cafe."

"Sure do." He grinned, his gorgeous features reflecting those superior, sexy Wilde genes that apparently ran in the family. And just like his older brother, Eric oozed charm and plenty of sex appeal. "It's nice to see you off your feet for a change, instead of always working so hard."

His comment was sincere, and it earned him a smile from her in return. "Steve and I were discussing business," she said in an attempt to keep everyone's speculation about them to a minimum.

Except by their skeptical expressions, neither Jill nor Eric appeared to believe her, and Steve didn't bother to back up her claim.

Jill stirred her straw through her blended latte and addressed Steve. "Eric was just mentioning at dinner tonight that the two of you and Adrian need to go and buy that set of Callaway golf clubs your father wants for his sixtieth birthday, before the big party on Saturday."

Steve reopened his binder and skimmed through the calendar section. "How about tomorrow afternoon, about one?" he suggested to his brother.

"Only if lunch is on you," Eric replied.

"Cheapskate," Steve muttered.

Eric shrugged unapologetically. "Meals are a write-off for you, so why not take advantage?"

"Fine." Steve jotted down the date in the appointment book. "Lunch at McDonald's it is."

Eric chuckled. "Now who's the cheapskate?"

Listening to everyone's lighthearted banter, Liz suddenly felt awkward and out of place sitting there in her work uniform, being a part of this cozy social gathering when she'd never intended to let her brief affair with Steve extend to getting to know his family.

And then there was Steve himself, who was throwing her off kilter with his own behavior and the mixed signals she couldn't fully decipher. He'd openly stated that he'd been married before and wasn't looking for anything complicated or committed, but he obviously had no qualms about his brother meeting the woman he was seeing on a short-term basis. She wasn't sure how she felt about that. Wasn't sure she liked everyone knowing that their relationship was nothing more than a casual fling, because that was Steve's standard method of operation when it came to women.

Refusing to analyze her conflicting emotions when they had no business being a part of her relationship with Steve, she decided it was time for her to get back to work and not let Jill waylay her this time.

"If you'll excuse me, I have some things I need to get done before I leave for the evening." She stood, straightened her apron, and smiled at the couple sitting across from her. "It was nice talking to both of you."

"Likewise," Jill said, and tipped her head thoughtfully. "Maybe we can all do this again another time, but when you don't have to rush back to work."

"Unfortunately, if I'm here, I'm bound to work," Liz said, infusing her tone with a believable amount of regret. Not giving Jill the chance to make a different suggestion-like the four of them going on a double date somewhere away from the cafe-Liz turned toward Steve. "I'll talk to you later?"

His dark blue eyes were unreadable, giving none of his own thoughts away, which only added to her confusion. He gave her a nod, telling her with that quick, simple gesture that he understood the underlying meaning behind her question. "You can count on it."

Yes, she could count on him, she knew. To be the man who offered her his protection and advice while they searched for her cousin, and to give her the kind of pleasure and passion she'd only dreamed of.

Nothing more.

As she walked away, she heard Jill tell Steve that he ought to invite her to his father's birthday party on Saturday, that everyone would enjoy meeting her. Luckily, Liz didn't hear his response. She didn't want to hear him say no, didn't think she could bear to hear what kind of handy excuse he'd come up with as to why she might not be able to go with him. Not that she could blame him. She didn't belong at a celebratory gathering with his friends and relatives, no matter how much she ached to be a part of the kind of fun-loving closeness and acceptance Steve shared with his family.

Bypassing the coffee bar, she headed to the storage room in the back part of the cafe, which doubled as her office. Halfway there, she pressed a hand to her stomach to calm the unexpected rush of upheaval in her belly that told a tale of its own. She was getting in too deep with Steve, in over her head in a way she'd never anticipated. Involved more than they'd agreed upon.

And if she wasn't careful to keep pleasure and her emotions separated, this particular bad boy was going to steal his way into her heart. If he hadn't already.

Liz desperately needed a reprieve from the hot and heavy phone conversations she'd been fielding for the past hour and a half. Taking off her headset, she headed out of the small, stifling room at The Ultimate Fantasy and signed out for a ten-minute break. Instead of hanging out in the employee lounge that smelled of stale cigarette smoke and sharing war stories with other operators who seemed to perceive other women in the company as their direct competition, Liz opted for a breath of crisp, fresh evening air to clear her mind and lungs.

With her bottled water in hand, and the bag of sugar cookies she'd pilfered from her stock at the cafe to munch on, she rode the elevator down to the lobby. She pushed through the double glass doors to the well-lit sitting area just outside the building and was surprised to find Roxanne already sitting at one of the round tables, taking a break of her own.

She'd briefly seen the younger woman in passing when Liz had started her shift at nine, but they'd only had time for a quick hello before they'd both enclosed themselves in their assigned rooms and started taking calls. Liz knew she'd take advantage of the current opportunity that had presented itself, hopeful they could strike up a conversation now.

The night watchman was out strolling through the parking lot, giving them a semblance of safety, yet allowing them privacy, too. A full moon hung in the clear night sky, but it was the splash of flourescent light from a nearby overhead light that threaded through Roxanne's brunette hair and lent her an ethereal, peaceful appearance that contradicted what she did for a living.

The illusion of tranquility shattered when the younger woman glanced up at her, her gaze troubled and shadowed with a sadness that Liz automatically responded to on an emotional level. The day of Liz's interview, Roxanne had been the only woman to befriend her, even going so far as to offer her, a "virgin" of the business, a few tips about phone sex.

It occurred to Liz that she might be intruding, when Roxanne possibly wanted to be left alone. "Mind if I join you out here?"

"I'd love your company." The honest smile that appeared on Roxanne's lips validated her reply.

Liz sat down across from Roxanne. In the two days since first meeting the other woman, Liz had come to the conclusion that her kind was rare in this business, as was the friendship she'd extended. Unlike most of the women in the building, who came across as jaded, cutthroat, and blatantly sexual in dress, mannerism, and speech, Roxanne seemed the polar opposite-quiet, unpretentious, and pretty much keeping to herself. She came to work, put in her hours, and didn't seem to fraternize with anyone beyond that. And she was one of the few women who didn't look at Liz with suspicion and didn't eye her as if she were a threat of some sort.

Roxanne glanced up at the stars glimmering in the night sky, and a soft sigh unraveled out of her. "It's so nice and relaxing out here, I'd hate to deny anyone else the pleasure of enjoying ten minutes of this wonderful peace and solitude."

Liz was in wholehearted agreement. "That's what brought me down here, too, instead of spending my break in the lounge."

"I only like to spend as much time as I absolutely have to up there in those offices," Roxanne said, crossing her arms in front of her on the table. "Sometimes I go home after work and I hear ringing phones in my sleep."

Liz laughed lightly, though the distaste in the other woman's tone gave her the distinct impression that Roxanne had taken on employment at The Ultimate Fantasy not because she enjoyed phone sex and titillating callers, like some of the other operators there, but out of pure necessity. And Liz understood and commiserated with that kind of desperation, because she was in the same predicament. But at least she knew this job was temporary for her, whereas she had no idea what Roxanne's situation was like, or how long she'd have to rely on phone sex for a living.

Opening the snack she'd brought with her, Liz held out the bag of treats to her new friend. "Sugar cookie? I've got plenty to share." And Roxanne looked like she could use some extra calories on her thin, petite frame.

Roxanne hesitated, as if she wasn't used to such kindness, then accepted the offer with a murmur of thanks.

Liz retrieved a cookie for herself. "Do you mind me asking how long you've been working here?" She kept her tone curious, remembering Steve's advice not to interrogate.

"It's been about four months now." Roxanne ducked her head, as if experiencing a bout of embarrassment-another anomaly for someone who made her living fulfilling verbal sex acts. "I know, you're probably wondering what I find so exciting about the phone sex business that's kept me employed here for so long."

"We all have our reasons," she said, suspecting Roxanne's were more extreme than most. "And like me, I don't think you find it exciting at all."

"No, I don't," she confirmed, and took a small bite from her cookie. "I have two young kids to support, and this is the best money I can make without any real work skills or a college degree."

Liz looked for a wedding ring but didn't see one. "You're not married?"

"I'm in the process of getting a divorce. My husband walked out on us six months ago and left me with the kids to raise and a mortgage to pay. He said he felt stifled, and off he went to find himself."

Liz inwardly cringed, knowing too well how badly a husband's rejection could lower a woman's self-esteem. She and Roxanne had a lot in common, it seemed.

Finished with her cookie, Roxanne brushed the crumbs from her fingers. "I haven't worked since my first child was born, five years ago, so finding an employer who'd hire someone as inexperienced as I am hasn't been easy. One look at my application with no previous jobs or references tends to turn off potential employers."

Liz pushed the cookies toward Roxanne, encouraging her to take another, which she did. "I'd like to think someone would give you a fair chance, despite your lack of experience." Liz was of the mind that everyone deserved the opportunity to prove themselves, and over the years she'd hired on a few people at the cafe without prior experience and had never regretted her decision. It was hard for her to believe that other employers could be so narrow-minded.

"A friend who used to work here told me how easy it was to get hired on and how much money I could make in a week's time. After so many other job interviews that didn't work out, I was getting to the point where I was feeling desperate enough to apply." Roxanne shrugged a slender shoulder. "Antonio hired me on the spot, so he gave me the fairest chance of anyone, I suppose."

"A friend told me about The Ultimate Fantasy, too," Liz said, subtly shifting the direction of their conversation to her purpose for seeking out Roxanne in the first place. "Maybe you might even know her. Does the name Valerie Clark sound familiar to you?"

Roxanne thought for a moment. "Yes, it does. Does she have dark hair and green eyes?"

"Yes." Hope sprang within Liz, but she didn't let her anticipation show. "I haven't been able to get a hold of her lately, and I haven't run into her during my shifts. Have you seen her around, by chance?"

"I can't say I have. Not this week, at least."

With Roxanne answering her so candidly, Liz pressed her advantage. "She was dating some guy named Rob, a client of hers. Do you know anything about him, by chance?"

"I have no idea who she was seeing." Roxanne tucked long strands of brunette hair behind her ear. "Then again, I didn't really hang out with her."

Liz was certain that was Roxanne's polite way of saying Valerie hadn't been the type of person she'd pick for a friend. "If you happen to see her or hear anyone mention her name, will you let me know? I sure would like to get in touch with her."

"Sure, but you'd probably have better luck talking to some of the other operators." Roxanne's paused, then added, "If I remember correctly, your friend Valerie spent a lot of time with a woman who goes by the name of Trixie Lane, though I don't believe that's her real name. But she might know where Valerie has been."

Yes, finally a substantial lead, and one Liz jumped on. "Is she here tonight?"

Roxanne shook her head. "Unfortunately, Trixie doesn't work the phone end of the business anymore."

"She doesn't?" Confusion and disappointment mingled in her tone.

"Trixie is strictly one of the party girls, as they're known." Roxanne filched another cookie, obviously feeling comfortable enough with Liz to help herself to another sweet treat. "I'm sure Antonio mentioned The Ultimate Fantasy parties to you, right?"

At Liz's affirmative nod, she continued.

"Most of the women want that promotion, because the party girls make three times as much money at one party, depending on how many clients they invite, than an operator makes in an entire week of calls," Roxanne explained. "Once you become a party girl, it's your choice whether you want to continue with the phone sex bit to keep the extra cash coming in."

Liz's eyes widened; she was stunned and amazed, and certain that Valerie had been one of those party girls. Now she had yet another reason to get invited to one of those parties- Trixie was now her best bet for more in-depth information on her cousin, and possibly on Rob.

Liz glanced at her watch, noting the time. They only had a few more minutes before their break was over, and she still had a few more casual questions to ask. "Do you go to the parties?"

"No." The one word was firm and adamant. "I've been invited, but I'm not interested. From what I've heard, those parties get pretty wild, outrageous, and sexual, and that's not my thing. Neither is phone sex," she clarified quickly, her chin jutting out with pride. "But right now it's paying the bills. Once I get my finances straightened out, I'm going back to school in the mornings to get a degree in nursing."

Understanding filled Liz, and she reached across the table to give Roxanne's arm a compassionate squeeze, feeling an undeniable kinship with this young, strong woman. "With a great attitude like that, you're going to be fine."

"Thanks." She smiled shyly. "That means a lot."

"You're welcome." Pleased with the details she'd gleaned from Roxanne, Liz stood and gathered up the empty cookie bag to toss into the trash. "I think we need to head back up to our offices before we get docked for taking too long of a break."

Most important, Liz didn't want to miss Steve's call.