Chapter Seventy Eight
Cam noticed the crowd gathering as he headed towards his Jeep. It had cost him almost six hundred dollars to replace both slashed tires, which had had him in a bad mood for several days.
Someone had been prank calling his cell at all hours of the night, blocking their number but breathing heavily when Cam answered. Cam had stopped answering and turned the ringer off at night. Then they started calling during class time. Dean had a friend trying to track the person, but they were bouncing their signals off different towers.
A feeling of dread came over him when he realized the crowd seemed to be centered on his Jeep. He pushed his way through the crowd and stared in dismay at the vandalism.
Across his hood someone had deeply keyed a profane word that Cam was certain he had never uttered. And this wasn’t a small keying. This was deep, stretching across the entire hood.
“Did anyone see this happen?” he demanded of the crowd. “Anyone? This just happened since this morning, anyone see anything?”
There were head shakes and Nos, as Cam stared in dismay at his car. There were people in and out of this parking lot all day long, how could no one have seen it?
“Cam, what’s going on?” Aralyn appeared at his side, with Tiffany.
“Look,” he pointed.
Aralyn’s eyes widened.
“What the Hell?” she asked.
Cam ran one hand through his hair. “This is insane. I have no idea who is doing this or why.”
“Cam, there’s only one person who could hate you this much,” Aralyn said. “And I don’t know why she hasn’t come after me.”
“She?” Cam asked. “You don’t think…”
“Yeah, I do,” Aralyn said. “I have for a while now.”
“I can’t send the police after her without proof.”
“You can certainly list her as a person of interest. Who else would have a grudge against you?”
Cam just stared at his car in dismay.
***
Aralyn laid on Tiffany’s bed, watching her cousin brush her hair.
“Okay, clearly you have a date tonight so tell me about him,” Aralyn said, opening a bag of chips.
“Don’t get crumbs on my bed, please,” Tiffany answered. She had hoped to avoid this conversation but Aralyn had walked over to see why Tiffany really declined to join them that night for pizza and a movie.
“His name,” Aralyn answered, holding her hand out over the bedspread, clutching potato chips.
Tiffany sighed. “It’s just a favor for Grandpa. While you were gone, he decided I needed to get out more. So sometimes if Grandmother or Mom weren’t available, he’d ask me to escort him to dinner. Usually business dinners with visiting colleagues or partners, and if he asked me to come, there was always a son or grandson around my age being brought along as well.”
Aralyn sat up. “Grandpa Matt is pimping you out?” she asked in horror.
Tiffany laughed. “No. But Grandmother and Mom often provide the charm at these dinners, and I think he’s hoping for some networking. You know, keep the family connections going.”
Aralyn frowned. “Sounds like he’s trying to play matchmaker.”
Tiffany chuckled. “No, that was Grandmother and Mom still isn’t speaking to her.”
“What? What do you mean?”
Tiffany sighed, then picked up her mascara. “Well, Grandmother decided that if Grandpa was going to bring me along on these business dinners, she’d start trying to set me up with what she considered eligible young men from appropriate families. She put it to me however, as just trying to help me feel not so lonely with you gone and hoping I’d meet someone dashing.”
“Did you?’ Aralyn asked, intrigued.
Tiffany snorted. “Not hardly. About the fourth one, I realized her plan was matchmaking, and when I told Mom, Mom hit the roof and called her. I’ve never heard Mom yell like that, telling Grandmother to stop interfering in my life and I could find my own dates, etc etc. They haven’t spoken since, that was about a week before you came home.”
“Woah,” Aralyn said, crunching her chips. “No one mentioned it to me.”
“No one wants to talk about it. Grandpa was apparently annoyed with Grandmother for going to such obvious lengths, and Mom was just irrationally furious. She still won’t talk about it with me, just says it’s between her and Grandmother.”
Aralyn frowned. “Did Grandmother ever try to set Honey up with young men? Like, before she and Luke got together?”
Honey shrugged as she put her earrings in. “I never would have thought so, but Mom really was livid, so I think maybe.”
“Hmm, I bet there’s a story there. I’ll ask Mom, see if she’ll tell me. If there’s a story there, you know Mom will know.”
“Well, let me know what Trixie says. Now, what do you think?”
Aralyn raised one eyebrow. “Looking hot. Who is this you’re meeting?”
The dress was simple enough, figure hugging in deep forest green. Pleated mesh bands crisscrossed the waist of a deep green lace sheath framed by scalloped edging around the neckline the followed the curve of the collarbone to her shoulders. It was sleeveless with an elongated hemline, and complemented Tiffany’s slender, long body.
“Some oil baron and his son. Grandpa’s had a hand in Texas oil since before we were born, and this is his longest running business partner.”
“His son would be kind of old, wouldn’t he?” Aralyn asked. “Like, in his thirties?”
Tiffany shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not looking to hook up, Ari. Grandpa just likes to have a pretty female there to turn on the charm, and Grandmother isn’t feeling well, and Mom is holding her crap against Grandpa as well, at the moment. I figure it’s just a dinner and it’s nice to get some male attention every now and then. And this guy sounds like he knows how to flatter a woman.”
Aralyn raised one eyebrow.
“Just you know, be careful,” Aralyn warned. “He sounds a bit like a scoundrel.”
Tiffany laughed. “Don’t worry. Grandpa has already told me that under no circumstances am I to be alone with the charms of John Ross Ewing III.”
***
"Matthew, I swear you have the most beautiful women in your family,” JR Ewing declared, as Matthew Wheeler introduced Tiffany.
“Well, she has amazing genes,” Matthew said proudly.
“You could put some of our Texas beauties to shame, young lady. Don’t tell your mama I said this but you’re giving her a run for her money in the looks department, and I’d bet the charm department too.”
Tiffany laughed as she shook his hand. “Thank you, Mr. Ewing. I appreciate the flattery.”
“No, no, you call me JR. Beautiful women always call me by my name. And it ain’t flattery when it’s true.”
Tiffany wondered if the entire night would be coated in this BS. At least he was entertaining, and she was fascinated by his magnificent eyebrows. She idly pondered if they had ever reached out and snatched a small child.
“This fine young man is my son, John Ross. My namesake and heir to the Ewing empire,” he boasted.
Tiffany turned her attention to the young man and caught her breath as their eyes met. Deep, dark brown, she felt her heart skip a beat at their intensity. He was about her height, slender, short dark brown hair and a dark gray suit that was definitely not off the rack.
“Pleasure to meet you,” she smiled.
“The pleasure is mine, I assure you,” he took her offered hand and kissed it instead of shaking it, startling her.
“That’s my boy,” JR beamed. “Chip off the old block! Knows how to impress the ladies.”
Matthew’s eyes narrowed. That was what he was afraid of.
John Ross pulled a chair out for Tiffany, and the men waited until she was seated before taking their seats.
Tiffany felt a little zing of excitement. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so boring after all.
*
Tiffany took a sip of her iced tea, listening with one ear to her grandfather and JR Ewing talk oil. She kept her own opinion of the oil business to herself, knowing her grandfather wouldn’t appreciate it. Wheeler Energies, a division of Wheeler Enterprises, had its fingers in all branches of the energy industry-oil and gas, solar, methane. JR was a born and bred Texas oilman, and he was giving his old friend a hard time about expanding into non-oil sources.
John Ross, stood by JR. Oil was the past and future of the country, he declared, they just needed to pump the oil under US soil, and they were battling various environmental groups, including the EPA. His own cousin, Christopher Ewing, was trying to advance Ewing Energies in the methane branch of the fuel industry.
Tiffany glanced at John Ross, feeling her cheeks heat. She felt warm all over whenever turned those dark eyes on her. They promised excitement, and danger, and she wished their fathers weren’t there. Good looking to be sure, probably in his early thirties, he had stirred something in her that she hadn’t felt since…Tony.
John Ross’s smoldering gaze was on her and he subtly winked at her. Tiffany smiled, and looked down at her salad plate. No wonder her grandfather had warned her away from him. This man was sex, there was no question. And Tiffany couldn’t help but wonder what he’d be like in bed. A tiger, she was sure of it. And she was tempted to find out.
“Excuse me, I have to take a call,” John Ross stood and stepped away from the table, but not without a wink to Tiffany. Instinctively, she removed her phone from her tiny purse as JR and Matthew argued on. Seconds later, her phone buzzed with a text message.
Unknown: I’m kind of tired of listening to these old fogeys repeat themselves.
She chuckled and glanced across the room, where John Ross stood, talking on his phone.
Tiffany idly entertained the notion of a one night stand. Instinctively she knew John Ross was not a man of commitment. And that explained why her grandfather had warned her off him. But it could be a hell of a night, she thought with a smile.
“Be your usual charming self, sweetheart, but don’t you fall into the trap of that boy. He’ll break your heart in a million pieces.” Matt’s words echoed in her head.
“Yes, Grandpa,” she had answered, but her curiosity was piqued.
She hadn’t answered his text, and a moment after he returned to the table, her phone buzzed again. When had he gotten her number, anyway?
Want to get out of here? Leave the old buzzards to their debate. They’ll be at it all night. You can show me the town.
Her heart skipped a beat. Common sense told her to decline. What would he think of her, slipping off into the night with a man she had just met?
No can do. My grandfather would have a fit.
Maybe afterwards.
She gave him a little smile and he winked at her again.
What would Aralyn do, she wondered? Go, of course. Aralyn was always up for an adventure. Maybe it was Tiffany’s time for some adventure.
*
As the night wore on, Matthew and JR continued to argue about oil, and Tiffany felt her interest waning. Dinner had been delicious and dessert was fantastic. If John Ross had been trying to turn her the way he slowly ate the cheesecake, with those teasing eyes trained on her, it had worked.
Finally, she made her excuses to leave, and Matt kissed her cheek before she left. She was walking towards the valet to have the car brought around when her phone buzzed.
Opening the text message, she paused to read it. Don’t leave. Go up to room 1014 and meet me there.
Tiffany was so tempted. But she shouldn’t. She should go home. Wash off her makeup and go to bed. She had an early morning run with Aralyn.
All she had to do was text Mom she’d be late. Or staying at Aralyn’s. Ari would cover for her.
No, she thought. Stop being silly. You do not need to go having a one night stand with a man like John Ross.
But what if, the little voice argued, you do? Maybe you need a good romp with a man who wants no commitment, just wants to show you a good time and spend a few hours with you? Maybe you need this, maybe you need to break the tie between sex and love. Have a wild night.
No, she thought again. That could lead to heartbreak.
“If you waited this long, you must be tempted,” he said, walking up to her.
Tiffany looked up, startled. She hadn’t realized she had been standing there so long, staring at her phone.
“I really should go home,” she laughed.
“Someone waiting for you?” he asked.
Tiffany swallowed as she stared up into those dark eyes and shook her head slightly.
“N-no,” she admitted.
He held out his hand. “Then come have some fun with me.”
Come into my den said the spider to the fly…she thought.
Tiffany took his hand and smiled at him.
***
Tiffany stirred slowly, then opened her eyes quickly. This wasn’t her bed. Or her room. Where was she? Then it all came back. She was at the Ritz-Carlton, in John Ross Ewing III’s hotel suite.
He was on the phone in the other room, she could hear his voice. A moment later he walked into the room.
“Good morning, Princess,” he greeted her. He wore only his boxers, but carried two cups of coffee, one of which he offered her.
“Good morning,” she said softly, sitting up and taking the cup. Self-consciously she ran one hand over her hair, wondering how crazy it was. Then she realized she was still naked under the sheets.
Memories flooded her mind, making her blush red.
He had led her by the hand up to his suite, shutting the door behind him and pulling her into his arms. His kiss seared her to her toes, and minutes later, he was unzipping her dress and letting it slide to the floor. She had tugged off his belt and pants, while he kissed her neck and breasts, before carrying her to the bed.
Later, he had opened a bottle of champagne, letting it dribble over her stomach so he could lick it off. They enjoyed the champagne together, and then they enjoyed each other’s bodies together throughout the night.
“Sleep well?” he asked.
She nodded, taking a sip of coffee. He had even added milk and sugar for her.
“Yes, thank you.”
“Good. I always like my ladies my satisfied,” he smiled as he joined her in the bed. Taking the cup of coffee from her, he set it on the table next to the bed and started nuzzling her neck.
Tiffany closed her eyes at the delightful sensation of his lips on her shoulder, reaching for him. He had shown her things the night before she didn’t know were possible, and she wanted more.
He took her again in the shower, against the wall.
After the shower, she realized she had only her dress from last night, but John Ross presented her with a tailored blouse and slacks that fit her well. She rolled her dress up in a bag with her purse.
“I called down to the concierge this morning,” he said. “I’m not having my favorite lady do the Walk of Shame outta here.”
She laughed. “Thank you, John Ross, I appreciate that.”
He pulled her to him and gave her loud kiss. ”You could come back tonight, you know,” he said. “I can stay another day. Dad won’t care.”
Tiffany laughed. “I think one night is where we best leave things,” she said. She touched his face gently. “No strings, no commitments, remember?”
He nodded. “I gotta say, you are one Hell of a lady, Tiffany Duke. I hope if you ever come to Texas, you’ll look me up.”
“I might. You certainly livened things up around here for me,” she smiled at him.
He started kissing her neck again but she pulled away with a laugh. “Oh, no. I need to get home before my cousin Aralyn shows up here with 3 US Marshals in tow.”
“Damn shame, Miss Tiffany.” His dark eyes were amused. “My car is waiting for you downstairs, just give them my name.”
Tiffany slipped her hand around his neck and pulled him to her for a last, lingering kiss. “Thank you, John Ross, for the most memorable night in a very long time.”
“Any time, pretty lady,” he smiled.
As she walked to the elevator, she mulled the night over in her mind with a smile. John Ross had introduced her to a whole new world last night, and made her truly feel like a desired woman for the first time in well, ever.
She remembered giving Aralyn grief for her one night romp with Jax Teller in California, and suddenly she understood. It was fun. It was liberating. And now Tiffany had a new outlook on life. It was time to stop being so damn serious, she thought.
As Tiffany walked down the hallway with a spring in her step, she smiled to herself. She felt different this morning. Something was gone. Tiffany felt free.
Meet the cast in full & see the family tree!
Author’s Notes
- 11 years a a Jix Author, wow. Never thought I'd hit that number. Sadly, I haven't had much time to write in this past year, but I did have this chapter available, and Ronda gave me a fast edit so I could post it today. I did some rewriting after, so all mistakes are mine. Here's to another 11 years!
- Hoping to have the time to write up some of those bad dates of Tiffany's!
- Word Count, 2,919
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