Kitabı oku: «The Bachelorette», sayfa 2

“Yes, of course. A ruby and emerald,” she said aloud as she jotted the note in her book. “Here’s a rough idea of a new setting design,” she added. With a few deft strokes of her pencil she sketched a new design for the pin—a smooth, organic-looking shape with a setting that would wrap around the stone, like green petals of a bud about to unfold.

Adam sat quietly, watching her draw. As she shifted the pad for him to view the sketch, he bent his dark head toward her. The expression on his face told her that he was impressed by her artistic ability. It surprised her somehow. She didn’t think a man who had spent his life in such a corporate, commercial atmosphere would recognize or value artistic talent.

Adam Richards certainly wasn’t what she had expected. Not at all.

“This is excellent, Meredith.” He looked up and met her gaze. “It’s just the type of thing I was hoping to find…but couldn’t quite put into words,” he added with an attractive, appreciative smile that set Meredith’s nerve endings tingling. “Could you make a sample for me to see?”

“Of course,” she said agreeably.

She was suddenly highly aware of their close proximity, his face just inches from her own as they both remained leaning over the sketch. She blinked and quickly sat bolt upright.

“I could have that ready for you tomorrow afternoon,” she said. She swallowed hard and pushed her glasses up higher on her nose.

“That quickly? That’s great. Let me check my schedule for tomorrow and see if I’m free…” He withdrew a small black book from the pocket in his suit jacket and flipped it open.

“You don’t need to come back here. I mean, I know how busy you must be. We’d be happy to send the piece to your office by messenger,” Meredith explained. “Then you can call and let me know what you think.”

Was she stuttering? The idea of enduring another one-on-one interview with Adam Richards had her nerves in an uproar all over again. She took a deep breath, hoping he’d agree to her suggestion.

“It’s no problem. This time of year is relatively slow for me,” he replied lightly, and she had a sinking feeling in her stomach. “Besides, there’s more than the stickpin to figure out,” he reminded her. “And I’m due back at the office in a few minutes.” He glanced briefly at his watch. “Shall we figure out some meeting time for tomorrow?”

“Yes, of course,” Meredith replied numbly. She looked down at the table, her lips twisting in a resigned expression. She’d make up the stickpin for him. That would be fun. But as for working with him further…the very thought totally unhinged her. And she didn’t want to figure out why.

“What about lunch?” he asked.

Her head snapped up. “Lunch?”

He laughed. “You know, that meal between breakfast and dinner? Don’t you eat lunch…or are you one of those women who are forever starving themselves?”

“I’m never on a diet,” Meredith replied honestly.

There were times in her life—particularly her adolescence—when Meredith bemoaned her figure. But with the passing years any excess weight had simply melted off her long-limbed frame. Although in her mind she still carried the poor body image of her childhood, in actuality she was slim and fit, practically model-like in proportions. She did nothing extra to stay in shape, getting most of her exercise with long walks or a jog through the park with her Labrador retriever, Lucy. The heavy work required for her metal sculptures also kept her muscles hard. She didn’t like most sports, and working out in a gym, in front of all of those mirrors, not to mention the other members, was her idea of damnation. As for dieting, she wasn’t a junk-food junky, but loved to eat and rarely deprived herself.

“Never on a diet, eh? How refreshing,” Adam replied brightly. “So I can take you someplace tomorrow where they serve real food, instead of rabbit feed?” he persisted. “I know just the place. How about Crystal’s?”

Crystal’s? That was the most exclusive restaurant in Youngsville, Indiana. She’d never been there, but had heard one needed to wait a month for a reservation. Of course, not if you were a regular, as Adam Richards no doubt was.

“I’ve heard it’s lovely. Thanks for the invitation…but I don’t think I can have lunch with you,” Meredith stammered. She rose from her seat and hurriedly gathered her pad and coffee.

“Oh, why not? I think we can get a lot done over lunch,” Adam persisted. He rose, as well, and stood in front of her, blocking her escape route from the small room. He stood so close that when she looked up to answer him, she had to tilt her head back.

“Yes, I’m sure we’d get work done,” she said diplomatically, remembering that he was, after all, an important client. “But I believe I’ll be in a meeting that will be going on all afternoon.”

That was a lie. There was no meeting. But she didn’t know what else to say.

“How about Wednesday, then? Do you have a meeting on Wednesday?” he asked. His voice was soft, with a faint note of amusement, she thought. He had guessed she was lying to him. Still, she couldn’t understand why he was so insistent about taking her out to lunch.

“I…I have to check. I’m not sure.” Meredith hugged her sketchbook to her chest and decided to charge for the door. “I’ll call your office and let you know.”

“All right.” He nodded and smiled slightly, trying to suppress a huge grin, she guessed. He was laughing at her. Finding it terribly amusing that a woman would be so flustered by a simple invitation to lunch. She felt silly…but couldn’t help it.

She looked down, avoiding his gaze as she moved toward the doorway. She just wanted to leave, to get away from him and be alone. But then she did something even more stupid. In her rush to flee she spilled coffee on herself. She felt the warm liquid seep through her smock and sweater. She looked down and saw what had happened.

“Oh…darn,” she muttered aloud. She dropped her pad to the floor and placed the leaky cup on the table. With her arms sticking out on either side, she looked down to survey the damage. Her gray smock was dripping with coffee, a huge stain spreading on one side. She couldn’t bear to see what had happened to her pale sweater and skirt.

“Here, let me get that for you,” Adam said as he quickly bent to retrieve her pad. “I’m so sorry…did I bump into you or something?” he asked with genuine concern.

“No…not at all. I manage to create these little disasters all on my own,” Meredith explained. She still stood with her arms at her side, coffee now dripping from her smock to the floor.

“But I was standing in your way. You couldn’t get by,” he said, making an excuse for her. “Can I help you get that off?” Adam asked politely.

“Uh, no…I can manage, thanks.”

The moment of truth had arrived. She had to take the smock off, it was dripping on her shoes.

She carefully undid the snaps, then slipped it off her shoulders and rolled it in a ball to contain the wet spot. Her sweater, still damp from her soaking in the rain, clung to her like a second skin. It now had an ugly brown stain covering a large portion of the pale fabric. A hopeless kind of stain that would probably never come out, she guessed.

“Oh, well. Guess I need to go find another smock,” she said, trying to sound offhand about the fumble.

She looked up at Adam and saw a strange light in his eyes. A totally masculine glow that scared her to death. He hadn’t been staring at the coffee stain all this time…but studying her figure. She was sure of it. She was just as sure that he’d never expected that beneath her baggy gray camouflage there was anything worth looking at.

She thought she had long ago outgrown self-consciousness about her hourglass proportions. At that moment, however, it didn’t seem so. At least he didn’t ogle her, but quickly looked away, his expression once again returning to a friendly smile.

“Well…here’s your pad.” Now it was his turn to seem self-conscious and momentarily off balance as he handed her the sketchpad. “And take my card,” he added, handing her a business card. “On second thought, I’ll have my secretary call you later to set up another appointment.”

“That sounds fine,” Meredith said, backing toward the door. She held the sketchpad to her chest, though it offered little coverage. His secretary. Good. She wouldn’t have to make excuses to him. It would be even easier that way.

“Well, so long, Meredith. Thanks for your help,” he said as she left the room. “I look forward to seeing the stickpin.”

“I’ll have it made up for you soon, Mr. Richards…. And, you’re very welcome,” she added, remembering her manners. She also remembered that she was supposed to call him by his first name. But she didn’t want to. She needed to put some distance between them now, to put things back on a more businesslike level. She had finally reached the door and quickly turned and opened it.

“Goodbye, now,” she called over her shoulder as she left him.

“Goodbye, Meredith,” he returned. “See you soon.”

His soft, deep voice did not sound businesslike, or impersonal at all, she noticed as she raced away toward the elevator.

Two

Feeling totally rattled, Meredith hurried down the hall to her office, grabbed a clean smock from the closet and gathered up the sketches that were still spread across her drawing table. It was five to eleven and she had no time to review the drawings any further. At least she wouldn’t be late for the meeting, she thought as she dashed out of her office and headed for the large conference room at the end of the corridor.

Despite her unsettling interview with Adam Richards, Meredith managed to collect herself enough to give her presentation. As she took her seat, she could not recall a word she had said. It had all gone by in a nervous blur. Her friends, Sylvie and Lila, who both worked in the marketing department, were present and kept shooting Meredith encouraging smiles. She was sure they’d each drop by her office later to review her performance.

Judging from the reactions of the rest of her colleagues—especially the pleased expression on her supervisor’s face—Meredith knew she must have done well. Even the crankiest sales manager seemed excited by the new line. Meredith listened to the comments and noted the various suggestions made, all the while quietly swelling with pride.

Buoyed by her success, she returned to her office and ate lunch at her desk as she worked through the afternoon. The embarrassing moment with Adam Richards didn’t seem nearly as awful now. Meredith could practically laugh at herself…if it wasn’t for the ruined sweater.

Meredith had just finished her lunch when Lila called. Lila said she thought Meredith had done a terrific job at the meeting and that she absolutely loved the new designs.

“Nick was very impressed,” she added, mentioning her boss, who was the Vice President of Overseas Marketing and also happened to be Lila’s fiancé. “I hope the company puts them into production soon,” she added. “I’d love to have a set of the bands in time for our wedding.”

Lila and Nick hadn’t set a wedding date yet, but Meredith knew that they were so crazy about each other, it was going to be a very short engagement.

“Don’t worry, Lila. I can always make a set for you,” Meredith promised, “even if the company decides not to use the collection.”

Or, if Marcus Grey succeeds in buying out Colette and shutting us down, she nearly added. But she didn’t want to voice the gloomy possibilities, especially on such an upbeat day.

After she finished her call with Lila, Meredith realized that she’d never received a call from Adam’s secretary. She was surprised. He’d seemed so adamant about pinning her down for another appointment. His business card sat on her drawing table, tucked under a clip. She glanced at it but didn’t even dare think of calling his office. Perhaps he was the type of guy who seemed all excited at the moment about something…then, minutes later, was on to something else.

Oh, well, so much the better. Maybe he’d forget all about his custom-designed trinkets and decide to give out monogrammed umbrellas or tote bags. Maybe she’d never hear from him again.

The idea should have been heartening, but somehow didn’t sit well with her. Then Meredith’s musings were interrupted by a knock on her partially opened door.

Meredith turned in her seat to see Sylvie in the doorway. Sylvie usually visited her at work at least once a day, to chat and catch up. They also saw each other at home, since Sylvie was Meredith’s neighbor.

After they met, they realized they had many things in common. Though they both had a tendency to be loners, over recent months they’d become close friends. Like Meredith, Sylvie rarely dated and also looked back on her upbringing with mixed emotions. But, Meredith often reflected, unlike Sylvie, at least she’d been raised by two parents who loved her. Even if they didn’t love each other. Orphaned as an infant, Sylvie had no family and had been raised in foster homes. She’d left the system when she was eighteen and eventually came to work for Colette, Inc., where she was presently the assistant director of marketing. While such a childhood would have made many people bitter, Sylvie was just the opposite. Her bright, warm, upbeat personality easily won her friends and cheered everyone who knew her. She looked upon the company as her family, and it seemed that her co-workers loved her in the same way.

Everybody loved Sylvie…and loved to confide in her. Sylvie just had a way of finding out the juiciest company gossip. As Sylvie took a seat, Meredith was sure her friend had come to deliver the news about the takeover.

“You really wowed them this morning. Marianne already called a meeting about the ad campaign,” Sylvie reported, mentioning one of the marketing managers. “A full-page ad in a leading bridal magazine, for starters.”

Meredith usually met such news calmly, but even she was excited to hear that her designs were so successful. “Really? I didn’t even start the samples yet,” she mused aloud.

“Sounds like you’d better. What are you working on now?”

Sylvie peered over Meredith’s shoulder at the stickpin Meredith had designed for Adam Richards. Meredith had worked on it most of the afternoon and it was almost done. She felt the urge to confide totally in Sylvie about her meeting with the handsome, seemingly single, self-made millionaire, but suddenly stopped herself. She didn’t want to talk about him. Not even to Sylvie. She felt a giant lump in her throat even thinking about him. She was acting like a teenager.

She pushed the stickpin aside and turned back to her friend. “It’s nothing. Just a sample I need to put together for a client. Any news about the takeover?” she asked, hoping to change the subject.

“No really big news.” Sylvie shrugged and pushed back a lock of her shiny black hair. Meredith had often noticed her friend’s beautiful hair, a perfect match to Sylvie’s warm-brown eyes. “I think Grey has picked up a few more shares of stock, but he still has a way to go before he holds fifty-one percent.” Sylvie’s eyes darkened as she spoke about the company’s adversary and Meredith could practically feel her friend’s righteous indignation. “The word is that once he gains control of the company, he plans to destroy it. He just wants to see Colette wiped out. Nobody really knows why. Somebody has to stop that guy.”

“Yes, of course,” Meredith agreed with a sigh. “But who? It would have to be someone with an awful lot of money…or someone who could cause Grey to have a change of heart.”

“If the man even has a heart,” Sylvie said. “I just hate to see morale get so low around here. We can’t just give up. That’s what he wants. We really have to pick up our skirts and plow on.”

Sylvie’s folksy, upbeat expression made Meredith laugh.

“Which for some odd reason reminds me, Meredith…you never gave me a firm answer about the auction. You’ll do it, won’t you? First I lost Jayne, and then Lila,” she said, mentioning their mutual friends who had both recently become married and engaged. There’s a real shortage of gorgeous single females this year and we really need you,” Sylvie pleaded.

For many years Colette, Inc., had sponsored a bachelorette auction, with all proceeds going to a local orphanage. The same orphanage in fact where Sylvie had lived for many years, so of course the cause was close to her heart and she always took on a large role in the planning. The annual black tie event was very upscale and would be held this year in the ballroom of the city’s fanciest hotel, the Fairfield Plaza. The guest list included the most prominent social figures in the city. Meredith always bought a ticket to contribute to the cause. But had never attended. She really disliked large, formal events.

This year, however, not only were her friends pressing her to attend, but they wanted her to step up on the auction block. The very idea made Meredith want to run to the nearest airport and book a one-way ticket to Brazil.

Of course she couldn’t do that.

But neither could she dress up in an evening gown, step up on a stage and display herself as strange men made bids to “buy her” for the night. She’d rather be boiled in oil. She’d rather be tarred and feathered. She’d rather be asked to shimmy up a greasy flagpole with a rose in her teeth. She’d rather—

“You’re going to do it, right?” Sylvie asked point-blank, interrupting Meredith’s thoughts. “I can come over tonight to help you with your outfit. Jayne and Lila said they’d come, too. I’ll bring dinner. How about Chinese?”

“Well…tonight’s not so good, actually,” Meredith fibbed. She tried to meet her friend’s steady gaze but couldn’t.

“Meredith…I know that look in your eye,” Sylvie said, calling her out. “You’ve got to do it. I won’t take no for an answer. We’ve got to pull together around here. The auction is a chance to show Marcus Grey that we’re carrying on, business as usual. We’re not rolling over and giving in to him.”

While Meredith had to agree with Sylvie’s point, she still didn’t feel entirely persuaded that if she paraded around a stage in a tight gown and heels—wiggling her extremities for the highest bidder—the effort would do much to thwart the heartless corporate raider.

“Meredith, please. You know how much this means to me. It’s just got to be a good auction this year. The absolute best. We have to show that man what we’re made of,” her friend insisted. “I know how shy you are and I know this is hard for you. Really, I do. But it might be a good thing for you, too. I mean, you’re absolutely gorgeous…but nobody but me and a few other select people even have a chance to realize it. I want everybody in this company to know what a babe you are. They’ll be talking about that for months,” Sylvie added in a teasing tone. “Won’t you help…please?”

Meredith wanted to refuse her…but she couldn’t let her friend down. This event was important to Sylvie, and to the entire corporate image. If the charity event went off successfully, as it usually did, it would show a strong united front to Marcus Grey.

And something else in Sylvie’s words had rung true. Maybe it was time she stopped hiding like a scared little mouse in a hole, Meredith realized. Maybe forcing herself to get out on that stage would be good for her. If she had a few more ounces of self confidence, maybe she wouldn’t act so flustered by a man’s mere invitation to lunch. As she had with Adam Richards.

“Okay, you’ve got me. I’ll do it,” Meredith finally agreed.

“Fantastic!” Sylvie leaned over and enveloped her in a huge hug. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down. Do you have anything at home you can wear?”

“How about that gray silk dress I wore for the Christmas party?” Meredith asked.

Sylvie’s lovely brow crinkled in a frown. “I’m not sure I remember…. Oh, yes. The gray silk. It had long sleeves and a sort of high, cowl neck?”

Meredith nodded. Sylvie smiled and shook her head. “Don’t worry, I’ll bring over a few things. We’ll come up with something great,” Sylvie promised.

Meredith was worried. She knew that her idea of “great” and Sylvie’s were probably a fashion galaxy apart. But she tamped down her fears and put on a brave smile.

“Chinese sounds good. And don’t forget an extra dumpling for Lucy,” she added, remembering her dog’s favorite treat. “And don’t worry, Sylvie. I won’t you let you down.”

“I know that,” Sylvie assured her, and Meredith knew she was telling the truth. Although Meredith didn’t make friends easily, her connections were deeply felt. True to her word and loyal to a fault, she’d go the limit to help a friend in need and never went back on her promises.

“Don’t worry, this will be fun,” Sylvie promised as she rose from her seat. “Oh, I almost forgot…” Sylvie stared down at the package she’d been holding, a medium-size box wrapped in brown paper. “The receptionist asked me to give you this,” Sylvie explained. “It was delivered a little while ago.”

She glanced at the label as she handed Meredith the box. “Hmm, it’s from Chasan’s,” she noted, naming one of the most expensive clothing stores in town. “I thought you did your shopping at the outlet mall, Meredith. Did you go out on a spree without telling me?”

“I’ve never been to Chasan’s. There must be some mistake.” Meredith examined the package and saw her name printed on the label.

Clearly too curious to leave, Sylvie stood by as Meredith tore off the paper and found the trademark, dark-blue gift box tied with a thick gold ribbon. She untied the ribbon and opened the box. Under a layer of gold tissue paper, she found a beautiful pale-pink sweater set, much like the one she had on. However, with one touch, she could tell it was of a far finer quality…and far more expensive than her own.

Meredith took the sweater set out of the paper and Sylvie gasped, “God…that’s gorgeous. Who is it from? Is it your birthday or something?”

“My birthday’s in June. You know that,” Meredith replied, without glancing at her friend. She took a deep breath before reading the gift card she found inside. She already guessed who had sent the gift, but could hardly believe it.

Meredith,

Are you sure I didn’t bump into you this morning? You insisted that I didn’t, but I still feel responsible somehow for ruining your lovely sweater. Please accept this gift with my appreciation for your help today—and my hope that I’ll see you again soon.

Adam

Meredith felt a bit shocked as she placed the card back in the box and closed the lid. It appeared he had picked the sweater set out and bought it himself. Had he really gone to so much trouble for her?

“Who’s Adam?” Sylvie asked, and Meredith realized her friend had read the card over her shoulder.

“It’s a long story, Sylvie,” Meredith replied.

“Judging from that blush on your face, I’ll bet it’s a good one.” Sylvie laughed, her lovely face alight with interest. “You’d better tell all tonight, dear,” she warned, “or no fried dumplings.”

“In that case, I guess I have to,” Meredith replied with a grin. “But there’s nothing to tell, honestly. He’s just a client, and I’m doing some special designs for him.”

“Right, you meet some client this morning and he sends you a hand-delivered gift from Chasan’s. But there’s nothing to tell.” Sylvie smiled knowingly and gently patted her friend’s shoulder. “Meredith, we need to talk.”

“Don’t you have enough torture planned for tonight? You don’t need to give me a lecture about men, too, Sylvie,” she warned in a good-natured tone.

“Me? Give you advice about men? Don’t be silly. I’m leaving that job to Lila and Jayne. After all, Jayne’s married and Lila’s engaged. They both should know something about the species.” With a quick wave Sylvie suddenly disappeared through the doorway.

Left alone with her surprise package, Meredith stared down at the box, which sat squarely in her lap. She opened the lid, looked at the sweater set again—now noticing the label of an exclusive European designer—then she looked at the card. She liked his handwriting. It was neat and crisp, with thick, blocky letters. Straightforward as the man himself, she thought.

Oh, dear. She was sinking into some type of warm, romantic mire, like a big steamy bubble bath. Inch by inch, minute by minute. Even though she’d forced Adam Richards’s image out of her mind today, she still felt her attraction to him gaining a hold on her.

But she simply wouldn’t allow such a thing to happen.

She just could not allow it.

Meredith stood and stuck the box in her office closet. She would return the gift to him with a polite, but curt note. She’d complete the sample stickpin, as she had promised, but she would make Frank assign a new designer to the project. She would not permit herself to see Adam Richards again. Certainly not alone. Absolutely not for anything as social as a “fake” business lunch date.

She wasn’t as naive about men as her friend Sylvie suspected. She knew what this ride was all about, the uphill climb of the roller coaster car was totally exhilarating—the thrill of a lifetime. It was the downhill slide, and the unavoidable crash, that she feared. Feared with all her heart. Or what was left of it.

Meredith had felt this strongly this quickly about a man only once before. Years ago, in college. Jake was superficially very different from Adam, but in many respects they were much alike, she realized. An established artist, Jake was a visiting professor at her college for a year, and students clamored for the chance to study with him. Jake chose only students he felt were the most promising, and Meredith was thrilled to win a place in his sculpture studio during her senior year. She’d expected to learn a lot about art—not about love. But from the very first moment he spoke to her, other than to critique her work, she felt as if she’d been struck by lightning. She kept her crush a secret from even her closest friends for weeks, never once dreaming her feelings could be returned. But miraculously they were, and she soon entered into a torrid affair with him, agreeing to secrecy in order to keep Jake out of trouble with the school authorities. It was certainly against the school’s policy for professors to seduce their students.

He was older, more mature and experienced. A man with status, who could have just about any woman he wanted. He’d swept her off her feet, and the force of his desire had been heady, intoxicating, too much to resist. But the romance—Meredith’s first—had ended badly. Very badly. Meredith was so heartbroken at one point, she didn’t get out of bed for weeks. Feeling empty and lost, so worthless and humiliated by Jake’s rejection, all she did was cry.

While logically she knew that all men weren’t as selfish and heartless as Jake Stark, she simply couldn’t risk it. She believed that while other women had some special sense of sniffing out the nice guys from the phonies, she had none. She didn’t trust her judgment about men as far as she could toss her living room sofa, and felt far safer not taking any risks.

It took her years to gain her confidence back after Jake, and Meredith knew that in some ways she’d never really recovered. But she finally felt in control of her life and her emotions—happy and productive and standing on steady ground again. Maybe her life wasn’t perfect. Maybe she was lonely at times and wished that she had someone close to share her ups and downs. Someone to love wholeheartedly, who loved her in return.

But the risk of failing at that game was too great. The price for losing too high. When she felt blue and needed a lift, she turned to her work at Colette and her sculptures. She turned to her friends, like Sylvie, Jayne, Lila or Rose Carson, her landlady. Or even to her dog, Lucy, who always had a way of bringing a smile to Meredith’s gloomiest hours.

The thought of Lucy made Meredith glance at the clock. It was past five, and Lucy was waiting for her walk. Meredith got her work in order, collected her belongings and left her office. She, too, looked forward to the nightly stroll. It gave her a chance to unwind and renew. As she left the office building, she said goodnight to a few friends. Outside, a cool breeze greeted her. The morning’s wet weather had cleared and except for some lingering traces of snow on the ground from last month’s freak snowstorm, the November evening was dry and the darkening sky, cloudless.

After a short bus ride to her neighborhood, Meredith got off at the Ingalls Park stop and walked across the park to Amber Court. Her apartment building, 20 Amber Court, was a large limestone building, built at the turn of the century. It had once been a private mansion, but was converted into four levels of apartments at some point in the seventies. Meredith loved old houses and had even studied a bit about Victorian architecture. She’d fallen in love with the old building at first sight, and the owner, Rose Carson, who lived on the first floor, had been so warm and welcoming that Meredith had felt right at home from the very first day she’d moved in.

She let herself into the front door and then picked up her mail in the large marble foyer—a magazine, some bills, some junk mail and a letter from her mother.

The sight of her mother’s handwriting filled Meredith with mixed emotions. The return address was Malibu Beach in California, where her mother had moved after her parents’ divorce, many years ago. Meredith guessed that her mother was writing to invite Meredith to visit for Thanksgiving. The envelope was so thick it might even contain another plane ticket, she speculated. But Meredith didn’t want to fly out to the West Coast for the holiday. She would have to make some excuse, of course. She didn’t want to think about that problem now, and shoved the letter, along with the rest of the envelopes, into the magazine.