L.A. Confidential by Julie Kenner

hallway, glancing at him over her shoulder. “Maybe I will,” she said with a shrug. “For you, maybe I will.”
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    â€œD O YOU HAVE AN UPDATE for me?” Even from across the country, Winston’s voice sounded crisp, clear and no-nonsense.
    â€œI’ve only been here a day and a half.” She’d been debating wearing the dress when he called, and now she pulled the bedspread off and wrapped it around her naked shoulders, not wanting to talk to Winston in her underwear.
    â€œA lot can happen in a day. I locked in two locations in San Francisco this morning. Nice town, San Francisco. If you don’t come through for me, looks like I’ll be spending some time there—and finding someone else to be my producer.”
    Her stomach lurched. She couldn’t let him pick San Francisco. She needed this too badly. She hesitated only briefly, then took a deep breath and took the plunge. “The truth is, I made a deal with Harper.”
    â€œIt’s all set? You got the restaurant?”
    She crossed her fingers. “I’m meeting him in an hour to go over the details.” Not exactly a lie.
    â€œAnd the rest of the locations?”
    â€œKen’s going with me to scout a few later tonight.”
    He grunted. “Well, I’ve got to give Greg credit. Looks like you were the best man for the job.”
    After he said goodbye, she took ten deep breaths, wondering if the fates were going to punish her for spinning little white lies. Not that she’d said anything truly inaccurate. But she hadn’t exactly left Winston with the full picture. Hadn’t mentioned, for example, that the deal still needed to be sealed—with herself.
    She shook her head, determined to be Scarlett O’Hara and deal with that tomorrow. Right now she had enough to deal with—such as figuring out what exactly Ken wanted. And deciding what the heck she was going to wear while he took it.
    She dropped the bedspread and headed back toward the mirror. She’d already put the dress on and taken it off five times, and now she really needed to make up her mind and get her makeup on or she was going to be late.
    Making a face, she ran her hands through her hair, feeling frazzled and anything but in control. She couldn’t blow this. She couldn’t. Hell, Winston thought the deal was locked in. He was probably already packing his bags and making reservations at his favorite Los Angeles hotel.
    She gave her reflection a long, steady look. “But it’s not a done deal until you meet his conditions.”
    Thinking about what that meant, she ran her hands over her breasts and her stomach, closing her eyes as she imagined Ken touching her. He wanted to, that much she knew. She’d seen it in his eyes at breakfast and again in the elevator. He wanted to touch her, wanted to makelove to her. But she’d also seen anger buried beneath those icy-blue eyes.
    Ken might want her—but he also wanted her to pay.
    Wondering exactly what the price would be, she licked her lips as she ran the material of the dress between her fingers. Silky and seductive, the dress made her feel feminine and powerful. After only a moment’s hesitation, she slipped it on, the material as soft as a lover’s touch. She twirled in front of the mirror, realizing she wasn’t a whole lot more dressed wearing it than not wearing it.
    She knew he was angry—that was more than clear. But there’d also been a hunger in his eyes when she’d gotten off the elevator at her floor, as though he was imagining her in the dress—and out of it. Truth be told, she liked knowing that hunger was for her. She hadn’t felt feminine in a long, long time. And despite the bizarre circumstances, the feeling was intoxicating.
    Closing her eyes, she sat on the edge of the bed, her body thrumming from the memory of the way his face had looked before the elevator doors had slid closed. The