TWO #3
He was searching my eyes. “Your curiosity borders on compulsive, and you are incessant with your questioning. What’s changed?”
“It’s not my business.”
“Which I’ve pointed out a million times and has never once stopped you.”
“Well, it will from now on.”
He gave me the slightest smile. “So, you’re growing up, is what you’re telling me.”
I let my irritation out in the sharp exhale of breath and turned for the door.
He walked over to stand in front of me. “Has he called you before?”
“No.”
“And how did he get your number?”
“Someone gave it to him.”
“Who?”
“I have no idea.” I yawned involuntarily.
“Miss Lawson?”
“I dunno.”
“You know,” he said, closing the door as I tried to open it. “And it matters to me, and that’s why we’re going to rid ourselves of this little problem.”
“You’re blowing this way out of proportion.”
“Am I? Is my number being given out as well?”
“Nobody but me has that number here at work,” I assured him. “And I don’t want to die young—younger, so don’t worry. You’re safe.”
“It would be nice for you to know that someone cares as much about your privacy as you seem to care about mine.”
“I don’t seem to care, boss,” I said tightly, emphasizing the word just as he had. “I do care.”
“Well, we’ll see, won’t we?”
He was using his snide tone. I closed my eyes for a second so I wouldn’t scream. Instead, once I took a breath, I asked him if that was all. He didn’t answer, so I tilted my head back so I could see his face. “Is that all?” I repeated.
“It is.” He walked back to his desk.
I left his office with the roses, pleased to see that Sonja was away from her desk so she wouldn’t see me with them, and walked out to the main lobby.
“For me, doll?” Piper asked as I delivered them to her desk.
I shook my head.
“More flowers for your boss from his lovesick typist?”
“She’s killing me.”
“She should watch herself,” Piper said, shooting me a look. “She’s on her way to gettin’ fired. Dane Harcourt is not to be messed with.”
Even our receptionist, who only greeted the man in passing, knew Dane better.
Later that morning, I was looking for my green highlighter when Therese Warner turned the corner and entered the outer office. As she headed toward Dane’s door, she thanked Sonja for putting her through to him earlier in the morning.
“Miss Warner,” I called before she turned the knob.
She looked at me over her shoulder as I came around my desk. “I have business to discuss with Mr. Harcourt.” Her tone was sharp.
“No, I’m afraid you don’t.” I handed her the envelope. “Mr. Harcourt regrets that he will be unable to attend the benefit next week, but has provided you with a check for ten thousand dollars to make up for his absence at the charity event.”
“Did you practice that all morning?” she asked tightly.
Funny, but when she was dating my boss, she thought it was marvelous the way I brushed off his old flames, and we got along great.
I liked her because she was so talkative.
Most of the others didn’t bother to speak to me at all, except to order me to do something.
Oh, Jory, be a dear and do this, that, and the other for me.
Dane will be delighted that you’re doing me this small favor.
Therese had been different. She would sit in the chairs outside his office and visit with me, asking if I was dating any cute boys, telling me that she wished her eyelashes were as long as mine, her eyes as big and dark.
“I swear, Jory”—she would lean on the desk—“your eyes look just like melting chocolate, that beautiful deep brown with those flecks of gold. I just hate you. And all that thick blond hair you’ve got, my goodness. It’s a wonder you don’t have a stalker. You look more like a model than an assistant.”
And I’d laughed because she was kind, but now our days of getting along were over.
“No,” I told her. “I’m just telling you what he said.”
She took the envelope. “Why isn’t he going?”
“He didn’t say.”
“I’m sure you know. He tells you everything.”
Such a lie. “He doesn’t.”
“He told me he does.”
It was too bad Therese didn’t know when she was being played. He’d probably said he told me everything to see what her reaction would be. I knew how he operated. It was too bad she didn’t. “He didn’t mean it.”
“Dane means everything he says.”
“You think?”
“I have to speak to him,” she said, sounding slightly desperate, leaving my desk and walking back to his door. “It’s very important.”
“Is it?”
“I have to speak to him,” she mumbled again as I walked up beside her. “He’s not taking my calls. Here, at the club… He doesn’t answer his cell…”
“Oh, that has nothing to do with you. He’s got other stuff going on.”
“So I’m just, what, another irritation for him?” she snipped at me.
“That’s not what I meant.” There was nothing more irritating to me than having people misconstrue my words or my motivation. I hated people who assumed things.
“I need to see him, Jory,” she begged softly, trying to appeal to me like we were pals.
“Take the check and leave, Miss Warner.” I moved her hand gently off the doorknob. “He doesn’t want to see you. Don’t force a scene that you’ll both regret.”
“I wanted to marry him.”
“I have no doubt that you did.”
“One day everything was perfect and the next day he said he thought it would be better if we started seeing other people.”
I nodded. I knew all this already. He gave all of them the same speech, the you’re-just-too-good-for-me speech when he needed air and had to get away.
The key to the man, the same as most, was to give him tons of space and act like he didn’t matter at all.
Be there when he wanted you and make yourself scarce when he didn’t.
But not one of them had ever been able to pull it off.
They started out all outrageous and aloof and then fell hard and wanted to smother him and keep him locked up.
He got under their skin so fast that the desire to cage him came with panicky obsession almost overnight.
And I saw him recoil and then retreat behind his crazy jam-packed schedule and me.
He loved to use me as a shield, sometimes even in person.
He would show up with me in tow just to drive a point home.
Dinner dates became dinner meetings, weekend retreats became working weekends whenever he was looking for distance.
He brought me along as a buffer whenever he wanted the person he was with to stay back.
“I am so in love with him I can’t see straight.”
I was brought back sharply to the present. “I’m sorry, Miss Warner. What do you want me to say?”
She let out a shaky breath.
What was I supposed to do? It had to be agony for her. All she had to do was open the paper to the society page to see a picture of another woman on her ex-lover’s arm. It had to be maddening, especially since he’d belonged to her such a short time ago.
“How can he just turn it off and forget about me so quickly?”
She was asking the question to the air, not addressing anyone in particular.
I doubted she even remembered I was there.
I just stood beside her looking stupid because I didn’t know what else to do.
If we were friends, I could console her—sit up nights with her, make her go out on blind dates just so she’d be out and not stuck in the house, and stay up late and let her cry on my shoulder for hours.
If she were my friend, I’d entertain her constantly for as long as it took to get Dane Harcourt out of her system.
The problem was, Therese Warner was not my friend, so I felt awkward and embarrassed and desperate to leave the room.
“Good morning, Mrs. Bradley,” Sonja announced from behind us. We both turned, and I offered a hand to the lady who’d joined us at the door to Dane’s office.
Mrs. Miriam Bradley took my hand and squeezed it tightly. She seemed genuinely pleased to see me, and I felt like I knew her, as many times as we’d spoken on the phone.
“How are you, Jory?”
“Fine, thank you. Are you ready for your initial meeting with Mr. Harcourt?”
“I’ve been waiting for this for months. I’m more than ready.”
“Terrific,” I said cheerfully. I stepped aside so I could open the door for her and make sure Therese didn’t get in at the same time. Not that she was trying to.
Mrs. Bradley didn’t enter the room, just stood there and looked at Therese. “Have we met? You seem very familiar to me.”
Therese smiled automatically. “I think we have a membership at the same club in Highland Park. I seem to recall seeing you there. My father is Simon Warner.”
“Yes, that’s it.” Mrs. Bradley smiled, offering Therese her hand.
She was so beautiful and graceful. I knew women who didn’t look that good at thirty, let alone at sixty.
I didn’t understand guys in their fifties and sixties who went in for trophy wives when there were stunning women their own age.
But I didn’t get gay men that went for guys half their age either.
I guessed a midlife crisis was the same no matter who you wanted in bed with you.
“You’re Therese Warner. Well, my dear, I’m so glad to finally meet you in person. ”
Therese thanked her tightly, trying hard not to cry.
“Come in, Mrs. Bradley,” Dane called from inside his office.
I closed the door behind her after she told Therese that she hoped they would be able to play a set of tennis together very soon. I turned back to Therese and begged her to leave.
“I want him to see me.”
“He doesn’t want to see you.”
“Why? What did I do wrong?”
“I’m sure you haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Has he said something?” She brightened instantly. God, she was hoping so hard, I was sorry I’d said anything at all.
“No,” I mumbled. “He hasn’t said a word. But he’s going to come out of his office in a minute, and I think you should leave before that and try to talk to him another time.”