All the Right Places (RILEY O'BRIEN & CO #1) Read online

  During the meeting, he and Sam had discussed the possibility of opening more Riley O’Brien retail locations. Currently, the company employed a multichannel distribution model, selling its products in bricks-and-mortar locations, online, and through print catalogs.

  Customers could purchase Rileys from big-name department stores, regional clothing chains, and smaller boutiques, along with Riley O’Brien–branded shops. While online sales were growing, most people still bought their jeans from a retail location.

  In general, neither men nor women liked to buy a pair of jeans without trying them on. In fact, market research showed most people considered several different brands and tried on multiple styles before buying even one pair of jeans.

  The elevator arrived with a ding, its doors swishing open. Stepping inside, he pushed the button to take him down to the third level. While most companies reserved prime parking spaces for executives, Riley O’Brien & Co.’s coveted spaces were awarded monthly by lottery. The process served as a constant reminder that all employees were valued equally.

  Arriving at the designated floor, he made his way to his Audi Q7 and clicked the remote to unlock the doors. He’d bought the luxury SUV on a whim one rainy Saturday afternoon a few months ago.

  Since he hadn’t been seeing anyone romantically, and his brother, Cal, had been out of town, he’d been bored out of his mind. He had been watching ESPN when an Audi commercial had come on, and he had decided to visit the local dealership.

  When Cal had seen his new toy, he’d pointed out that most people went for a run or to the movies when they were bored. His brother had concluded Quinn needed a hobby, or even better, a honey, and then he’d begged to drive it.

  Teagan, meanwhile, had said he had too much time on his hands and too much money in his bank account, something he didn’t bother to dispute. “You should try volunteering,” she’d suggested snidely before demanding that he take her for a spin.

  Opening the door, he tossed his bag in the passenger seat and jumped in. The smell of expensive leather enveloped him, and he clicked his seat belt in place.

  After connecting his iPhone to the car radio, he turned it on. He’d been edgy and agitated all day, and loud, angry music always helped him decompress.

  As he drove home, he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel to the thumping beat of Godsmack’s “I Stand Alone.” The music was suddenly silenced as the car’s console lit up to let him know he had a call. He pressed a button to connect it, and Teagan was immediately there with him, in voice if not in body.

  “Quinn, where are you?” Her voice came through the speakers loud and clear, much to his displeasure.

  “I’m heading home.”

  “You avoided me all afternoon,” she accused.

  “You think so?” he replied, knowing his answer would irritate her.

  “I know so, you jerk.”

  He grinned. Annoying his little sister was so much fun, and he did it as often as he could.

  “And here’s more proof you don’t know everything,” he mocked. “I had meetings all afternoon, and it was just a happy coincidence I was able to avoid you at the same time.”

  Teagan’s rude snort echoed throughout the car. “I wanted to talk to you about your meeting with Amelia.”

  Quinn sobered. He’d been trying not to think about that meeting all day.

  “What about it?” he asked cautiously.

  Her questions flew at him with the rapid staccato of a machine gun. “How did it go? Did you like her? What did you talk about? Were you satisfied?”

  Thinking about Amelia made his gut tighten with renewed arousal. No, he definitely hadn’t been satisfied.

  “It was fine.”

  Teagan sighed loudly. “You’re just as bad as Amelia. She barely said two words to me about the meeting.”

  Quinn’s curiosity was piqued. “What did she say?”

  “She said you were nice.”

  Nice? Now he felt like ramming his head into a brick wall.

  “What did you think of her?”

  That was a good question. What did he think of Amelia? She hadn’t been anything like he’d expected, and he found her interesting, smart, and sexy.

  In the short time they’d spent together, she had shown interest in his family’s history and an appreciation for the company’s traditions. She had a sense of humor, and she was a hard negotiator, not giving up on her desire to work from Nashville despite the pressure he’d put on her.

  He had definitely been impressed with her design skills. He had underestimated her talent by assuming she had achieved her success solely because of Ava Grace Landy. Her boots had been works of art, and he was sure she would be able to come up with some kick-ass accessories for the company.

  But he was less sure he’d be able to keep his hands to himself, especially when he thought about her round ass, shiny hair, and pink lips. His extreme reaction to her was worrisome since he shied away from any personal relationships that might jeopardize Riley O’Brien & Co.

  “When will Amelia be back?” Teagan asked.

  “Didn’t you two discuss that during lunch?”

  “No.”

  Apparently, Amelia had left it to him to explain their agreement to his sister. She wasn’t going to like what he had to say, and Amelia owed him for taking fire for this. He had a vision of her showing her appreciation on her knees with his hand fisted in her fiery red hair and her plump lips wrapped around his cock.

  “When will she be back?” Teagan repeated, rudely interrupting his fantasy.

  “In two weeks. But she’s only going to be here for a month. She’s going to do most of the design work in Nashville.”

  He expected a verbal explosion from Teagan, and he didn’t have to wait long.

  “Are you serious, Quinn?” she burst out furiously. “She needs to be here!”

  He cut her off. “Look, Amelia was ready to call off the deal if I didn’t agree,” he explained, wondering why he bothered to defend himself when he hadn’t done anything wrong. “Since the accessories are your bright idea, I thought you’d be happy I saved them. Instead, you’re bitching at me.”

  Reaching his driveway, he pushed the button to open the garage doors situated below his trilevel Victorian and drove in. Teagan had been silent for so long he wondered if the call had dropped.

  “Are you still there, T?”

  “Yes, I was just thinking. Maybe we should throw a party to announce the partnership with Amelia. It would generate some buzz for the new accessories.”

  “Why don’t you talk to Cal and see what he thinks?”

  “I will.”

  He shifted the Audi into park. “Are we done?”

  “We should offer the penthouse to Amelia. That might entice her to do more of the design work here.”

  Quinn sighed. He doubted anything would convince Amelia to spend more time in San Francisco than she had to. He was pretty sure she wanted to avoid him.

  Despite his efforts to hide it, his desire for her had been obvious. He was just glad his jeans had concealed his erection. He had no doubt she would have ended the meeting if she had seen it. Riley O’Brien & Co. would have been forced to find another designer, and now that he’d met her, he definitely wanted Amelia.

  In more ways than one, a little voice inside him whispered.

  He scowled, annoyed by his surprising and inconvenient attraction to Amelia. He needed to get his shit together and focus on what she could do for Riley O’Brien & Co. She was an extremely talented designer. He needed to give her the same level of respect he would give any other professional.

  With that in mind, he said, “I don’t see a problem letting Amelia use the penthouse as long as it’s not booked for someone else.”

  “I’ll double-check, and if it’s open, I’ll go ahead and reserve it for the next f
ew weeks.” She cleared her throat. “Quinn, is there something I should know? Did something happen during the meeting?”

  Leaning his head against the headrest, he closed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose. He wasn’t in the habit of lying, especially to his sister, and he wasn’t going to start now.

  “Working with Amelia is going to be interesting,” he finally said. “I’m home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He disconnected the call before she could say anything else.

  Chapter 5

  The buzz of Quinn’s alarm clock pulled him from a deep sleep the next morning. Covering his eyes with his forearm, he debated whether to lounge in bed an extra hour or get up and go for his regular morning run.

  He’d gone to bed way too late after spending several hours online searching for information on Amelia Winger. He was intensely curious about her, but he hadn’t wanted to quiz Teagan because his sister was smart enough to smell smoke where there was a little fire.

  Unfortunately, his research had uncovered very little about Amelia, although she showed up briefly in a number of articles where Ava Grace Landy was the main subject. He’d discovered she and Ava Grace were from a town in Texas called Electra, population 2,772. The pair had been friends since kindergarten, and they were both twenty-six years old.

  When Ava Grace had won American Star three years ago, she moved to Nashville, and Amelia came with her. They now shared a house outside the city, although he wasn’t exactly sure where.

  With so many pictures of Ava Grace on the web, Amelia’s designs were everywhere, and he had reviewed them with interest. In Ava Grace, Amelia had found the perfect canvas to showcase her designs. With her long, lean body, the country music star was a living mannequin, and no matter what she wore, she looked stunning.

  Sighing tiredly, Quinn threw back his down comforter and sat up. He knew he would feel better after he got some exercise, so he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stumbled to the bathroom.

  After taking care of business and brushing his teeth, he grabbed a long-sleeve maroon T-shirt, gray running shorts, and athletic socks from his dresser and pulled them on. Stepping over the pile of dirty clothes on the floor, he headed downstairs to find his shoes.

  As he made his way into the living room, his feet slid a little on the shiny hardwood floors. He had bought his Victorian three years ago, and prior to purchasing the four-bedroom home in Laurel Heights, he and Cal had shared a condo in Cow Hollow, a trendy neighborhood bordering the Marina District.

  He quickly slipped on his running shoes and strapped his iPhone to his bicep. He jogged down the steep front steps, and with his earbuds in place, he headed west toward the park at a slow, easy pace.

  Running always gave him the opportunity to prepare for the day ahead and mull over anything that bothered him. He picked up his speed, his feet pounding the pavement to the funky rhythm of Daft Punk’s “Get Lucky.” Meeting Amelia had upset his equilibrium, but he was much calmer this morning than he’d been yesterday during his drive home, and his music choice reflected his mindset.

  His most recent girlfriend, Luna, had told him that she could judge his mood simply by the music he chose. His taste was eclectic, and he listened to everything, from classical to country, heavy metal to hip-hop.

  He had met Luna in California Pacific Medical Center’s cafeteria. He’d spent a lot of time there while his dad received his cancer treatment. With her cap of shiny, dark hair and olive skin, she’d caught his eye, and he had been intrigued when she jumped into a heated conversation with one of the food servers, Spanish flooding from her lips and her hands gesturing wildly.

  Luna had been intense, probably because her job as a pediatric oncologist had been life-and-death stressful. When he had been with her, he listened to a lot of moody and dark classical composers, particularly Wagner and Berlioz. Maybe the music should have been the first clue Luna hadn’t been the one for him.

  Looking back, he admitted their relationship had lasted longer than it should have. He had been going through a difficult time. His dad had been sick, and Quinn had been forced to take on more responsibility at work sooner than he had expected. To make matters worse, he’d just moved into his new house and had been living alone for the first time in his life.

  Luna had been the perfect distraction. Although their jobs had made it difficult to get together often, he had enjoyed the time he spent with her. She was intelligent, kind, and passionate about her job and her patients. And the infrequent sex had been pretty good, if not brain-melting.

  He’d had plenty of brain-melting sex in college. Wild, athletic, anonymous sex.

  But that wasn’t his priority anymore. His family was his priority, followed closely by Riley O’Brien & Co.

  Unfortunately, Cal and Teagan hadn’t connected with Luna. It had bothered him that his favorite people in the world didn’t like his girlfriend, and when Quinn had confronted Cal about it, his brother was quick to set him straight.

  “I do like her. The problem is that you like her, too, and that’s all you feel for her,” Cal said bluntly. “Don’t you get it? You’re not in love with her.”

  But when things had gotten rough with his dad, Luna stepped up in a big way. And although Cal had been right when he said Quinn wasn’t in love with Luna, he had been damn grateful for her.

  He had happily settled into what he thought was a mutually satisfying relationship. That’s why he had been blindsided when, after being together for more than a year, Luna had admitted she was in love with the father of one of the little girls she’d been treating.

  Luna had assured him she hadn’t cheated on him, and he believed her. Nonetheless, he had felt betrayed because he thought she was happy with him.

  She hadn’t even apologized. “Deep inside, you’re okay with this,” she said. “Your heart isn’t broken, Quinn.”

  He hooked a left at the intersection, shaking off the memory of Luna. Thinking about her wasn’t painful, but it sure as hell didn’t make him feel good, either. As he crossed the street, one of the songs he had recently added to his playlist came on.

  Ava Grace Landy’s distinct, raspy voice flowed sweetly into his ears. As she sang the first few lines of her hit “Lost & Found,” thoughts of her best friend Amelia Winger filled his head. An image of her deliciously round ass flashed across his vision, and he stumbled.

  So much for calm.

  Chapter 6

  Amelia leaned a hip against the heavy wood table in her workshop and rubbed her forehead. Thanks to the time difference between the West Coast and Tennessee, she hadn’t arrived home until almost two in the morning, and she was exhausted. Even her special “oomph” juice hadn’t helped.

  Twirling one of her curls around her index finger, she studied her sketchbook and cast a critical eye over the minidress she’d drawn. She planned to construct the dress out of supple red leather.

  It was the first piece of clothing she had ever designed for someone other than herself or Ava Grace, and she had serious anxiety. Most of her unease stemmed from the person who would wear it, a pop princess known simply as Cherry whose star power eclipsed Ava Grace’s considerable fame.

  The teen sensation was known for being a diva, and Amelia was nervous about working with her. But, according to Cherry’s manager, Gary Garson, she adored Amelia’s creations.

  Picking up a fat pencil, Amelia flipped to a blank page in the sketchbook and started to draft the next piece for Cherry, a formfitting catsuit that would highlight the young woman’s perky breasts, flat stomach, and well-toned legs. She strongly believed that in the right circumstances, showing less skin was even sexier than near nakedness.

  Amelia snorted. Her mother had definitely not agreed. Janna Winger had pranced around their small town in tight cutoff shorts and midriff-baring shirts, even when the weather had demanded layers.

  Janna’s clothing had com
municated her ambitions more loudly than a bullhorn. She had constantly been on the lookout for a new man, her standards low enough that she’d rarely been without companionship. As long as he’d had the money to buy booze and could get it up, her mother had been satisfied, at least until she found her next victim.

  Amelia’s fingers tightened on the pencil. Describing her mother as trailer park trash was being generous, although the two of them had never actually lived in the aluminum ghetto. Janna had been promiscuous, crass, and lazy. While Amelia’s mother hadn’t been a prostitute, she had used her body instead of her brain to survive, and she had paid for that decision.

  Amelia’s phone chirped again, this time notifying her that she’d received a text message. With a sigh, she tossed down the pencil and picked up the phone. Only a handful of people had her mobile number, and she didn’t want to ignore an important message.

  The two-line text was from Ava Grace. “Home soon. Be ready to talk.”

  Amelia grinned at the screen. Ava Grace’s bossiness was a big part of her charm.

  She checked the time on her phone before returning it to the table. It was a little after one p.m., so she’d been working for nearly four hours. She picked up the pencil again and resumed sketching.

  When she had woken this morning, bleary-eyed and cranky, she’d been relieved to see Ava Grace had already left the house. She had needed time to decide how much of her trip to San Francisco she planned to share with her best friend.

  Without a doubt, she knew Ava Grace would have compelled her to spill every humiliating and disturbing detail of her meeting with Quinn within minutes, if not seconds. If Ava Grace hadn’t found fame as a country music singer, she could have been a huge success in law enforcement.

  She was persistent, observant, and downright relentless when it came to ferreting information from even the most recalcitrant sources. Amelia had been on the receiving end of Ava Grace’s interrogations many times.

  The two of them had grown up together in a little burg that didn’t even have a Walmart. Ava Grace’s family situation had been better than her own, although not by much. Her mother had died when she was a toddler, and shortly thereafter, her father, Chuck, had dumped his only child with his mother. June had been a cold woman who’d been less than thrilled to raise another child, especially one as precocious as Ava Grace.