"Now, what do I need a man for?" Roseanne went on, warming to her topic. "Sex, of course. I won't argue with that. Or children, if you're into that sort of thing." She grinned at the chair wheel, thinking of the loathsome creature she'd found in her bathtub that morning. "All right, all right. I'll admit men come in handy for killing the occasional spider."
"Ahem."
Roseanne ceased her happy shoe-flapping activities. That deep voice was not her law clerk. She glanced under the table. Instead of the sensible pair of feminine loafers that should have been standing there, she saw a pair of very un-feminine tan leather boots, Western in style.
Darn it all! Wasn't he supposed to be back in Texas by now?
But no. Twisting her neck, she found Winthrop Carruthers peering down at her over the desk.
He looked surprised. "Why, you're on the floor, Miz Archer." He had a funny way of slurring the distinction of her title, spanning the entire range from Mrs. through Ms. to Miss.
"So I am." She didn't bother disguising her annoyance. What was he doing here?
"You'd best get off the floor," Winthrop advised. He started around the corner of her desk.
Roseanne pushed herself to a sitting position, her long legs curled to the side. Her blasted bob of dark hair fell into her eyes and she had to blow it out of the way to look up at him.
He obviously couldn't see the glare in her eyes warning him not to do so, for he leaned forward, caught her arm around the elbow and gently raised her to her feet.
For a moment they just stood there looking at each other. It was a strange moment. Roseanne was fully conscious of the sure strength of his arms and the height of him rising above her. As she'd noted the day before, he was quite a bit taller than she was, even when she was standing in her high heels.
Okay, okay. She noticed him...physically. So what? She still didn't like him. "I thought you were all done here," she said.
Frowning down at her with his terrible blue eyes, Carruthers seemed unaware he was having any kind of effect on her. "Did you mean what you said yesterday in George's office?" he asked.
"I said quite a few things." Roseanne cocked her head. "Wanna give me a hint which one you mean?"
He averted his gaze. "About George, and me firing Covington March four years ago."
"Ah." So he'd put the pieces of the puzzle together. Roseanne was mildly impressed.
"He wasn't even working on my file at the time." Winthrop looked back at her. "How could he get the blame when I canned the law firm?"
"Easily." Roseanne gave him a pitying smile. "In a big firm like this someone always has to take the blame. It's political and it's ugly, but it's how the game is played. In your case, since George was the initial contact—"
"He helped with a tax problem when Carruthers Engineering was just getting started down in Houston."
"Anyway, as I was saying, he brought you in. You became his responsibility, even if he wasn't working directly on your case." George, transferred from Texas up to Covington March's branch in Seattle, probably hadn't even been aware that the Houston branch had made the classic error of trying to take care of a family law problem for a corporate customer. Carruthers' divorce had been a doomed project from the beginning.
Carruthers took a step back. "How do you know so much about this?"
"I read your file."
His eyes widened in clear alarm. "The whole thing?"
Roseanne smiled. "There were several volumes. No. I only read the highlights."
The alarm simmered down to something close to humor. "You saw the letter firing Covington March?"
"Oh, yes."
Winthrop pointed a finger at her. "Now that's what I call a highlight."
"Which is exactly what we were discussing. But it's all water under the bridge now." Roseanne hesitated, considering. "Unless, of course, you're thinking of retaining Covington March again."
He didn't appear to have heard her. "Not that it did any good to fire you s.o.b.'s. I ended up with the same exact divorce settlement from my next lawyer." He gave Roseanne a man-to-man look. "Do you know I'm still paying that woman part of the profits made by Carruthers Engineering?"
"Considering she didn't make you sell the company to give her half the value, I'd say you got a very generous deal."
"Hmph." Winthrop shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. "Maybe. If that's all I had to pay. But Sylvia's been finding ways to take even more out of me. Look at this newspaper gossip article."
Roseanne was surprised. "You think Sylvia planted the article?"
His tone was grim. "I know it."
"But what would she get out of it?"
He gave a humorless laugh. "She wants to make it come true."
"She does?" Roseanne shook her head, unable to get her mind around the concept. Why would Carruthers' abandoned wife want her ex back again? "Can she do that just by spreading rumors?"
"She's creating pressure." Sighing, he looked longingly out Roseanne's office window, as though he wished he could be far away from it all. "There are a lot of parties who'd like to see Sylvia and myself married again."
"Including Sylvia." Roseanne felt the need to confirm this enigma.
Winthrop shrugged. "She has her reasons, too."
From the way he put it, those reasons didn't include love and affection. Now Roseanne was beginning to understand. Sylvia clearly had other, more practical, objectives in wanting Winthrop back again.
"So," Roseanne asked, curious, "what are you going to do?"
"Do I have a choice? Ride it out somehow." He grimaced. "Jesus. I'd do anything to nip this thing in the bud."
Anything? The word echoed in the cluttered space between Roseanne's ears. Together with the expression on Mr. Carruthers' face, it started a chain reaction in there. Anything? Roseanne cleared her throat. "How much longer did you plan to stay in town?" Suddenly she was not so eager to see him gone. Exactly what might he be willing to do to nip it in the bud...?
He gave her an odd look. "Why do you want to know?"
Roseanne searched quickly for an explanation. Best he not suspect the thoughts stirring crazily in her mind, at least not until they'd developed into a working plan. "There are...a few phone calls I need to make. Then I may have a proposition that will solve your little problem. Nip it in the bud, just the way you want." Hadn't George said that Win needed a wife—?
"You don't say?" He was plainly dubious.
"Trust me," Roseanne encouraged him, most falsely. The last person in the world Carruthers should trust was Roseanne. "When is your flight out?"
"Tonight." He looked wary, but also curious. It was just the way she wanted him.
Yes. That miracle Roseanne had been looking for was standing right in front of her. He was a walking ticket to partner. Without realizing it, Roseanne's boss had given her the answer to her dilemma after all. George's 'good friend' was a former client of CovMarch, a big former client, and a disgruntled one. He was a lucrative contract nobody ever expected to see again. But if Roseanne could reel him in...she'd be a hero.
"Good, good, good," she murmured in a calculatedly mysterious professional fashion. She looked around, intending to sit down and reach importantly for the telephone, signaling to the unfortunate Mr. Carruthers that he was dismissed. But, alas, there was nothing to sit in. Her chair was lying in a terminal condition on the office carpet.
"What seems to be the trouble with that?" Carruthers followed her gaze.
Roseanne shrugged. "One of the wheels buckled. I suppose I'm missing a screw or something."
"Or something," he murmured, squatting to give the wheel a superficial look.
Surely he didn't intend trying to repair it, himself, Roseanne thought, panicking. She didn't want help from anybody, but particularly not Winthrop Carruthers. Fortunately, he straightened and she relaxed.
Too soon. From a standing position, he put out his hand and took hold of the chair. He held it for a moment as though taking its temperature. Then, light as a f
eather, he raised the unwieldy creature, gave it a solid little shake and set it on its feet. It landed firmly. It did not fall over. It didn't even list to the side.
"That should do it," he said, but without a trace of triumph. In fact, he sounded rather sour.
"I don't believe it." Roseanne looked over at him and then reached for the chair. She rolled it backwards and forwards. The wheels cooperated smoothly, not even a squeak. Giving the man a deeply suspicious glare, she lowered gingerly into the seat. It held. Not only held, it felt solid.
"You fixed it," she accused.
He shrugged, plainly unimpressed with his own power. "I guess there are a few things I can do." He paused. "Other than kill spiders."
Roseanne felt her face go uncharacteristically warm. She wondered how much of her little speech on the various uses of men Winthrop had overheard.
Judging by the tinge of color now visible on his high cheekbones, he'd heard more of it than the spider part. "Good day, ma'am. Thank you for your time."
"It was nothing." Roseanne felt chatty all of a sudden. "You gave me a great idea—I mean, maybe you'll be hearing from me."
The flicker of alarm that crossed his face before he walked out the door gave her a moment's pause. She was assuming Carruthers was sort of dense, socially. But maybe he wasn't as slow as she presumed. He might suspect she was up to something.
No matter. She meant Carruthers no harm. In fact, she thought there might be a way to solve everybody's problems all at once: George's disgrace, Carruthers' ex-wife, and last, but certainly not least, Roseanne's bid for partnership. She grinned and gave a push to her chair. It spun effortlessly around and around.
CHAPTER TWO
"Do you have to leave so soon?" Roseanne's longtime friend, Sheryl, rose from the dining room table and reached for a serving plate.
Roseanne glanced down at the slim gold watch on her wrist. "I'm afraid so—if I'm going to make that flight tonight."
Meanwhile Harlan, Sheryl's husband, jumped to his feet. "Here, let me take that for you, honey."
Sheryl relinquished the serving plate and sat back down to face Roseanne. "You haven't told me what this business trip is all about."
"It's about making partner this year." Roseanne smiled smugly. "I'm going to Houston to land one of the biggest clients CovMarch has ever lost. When I'm through, they're going to be so gosh darn grateful they'll finally hand me that partnership."
Harlan came back from the kitchen and began clearing the rest of the plates from the table. He cocked a chestnut eyebrow at his wife and the two shared a short, private smile.
Newlyweds, Roseanne smirked. Still, she loved Sheryl dearly and hoped the love and affection she now saw between the two of them would last. Sheryl was such a sweetheart that maybe it would. What man in his right mind would ever leave a little pixie doll like her?
"You've got the man well trained," Roseanne remarked approvingly when Harlan had once again disappeared behind the kitchen door. "At home from the office on a weeknight, and even helping with the dishes."
Sheryl dropped her gaze to the white tablecloth and picked up a spoon. "Well, Harlan wants to make sure I get enough rest."
"Why, are you hibernating?" As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Roseanne knew her mistake. She didn't even need Sheryl's telling blush to complete the picture. "Ah, silly me. You've gotten yourself in the family way, haven't you Sher?"
Sheryl looked up with mischief twinkling in her shy eyes. "Almost four months along."
Roseanne's fire engine red lips spread into a wide grin. Both women knew that Sheryl hadn't been married above three months. "Fast work, kiddo, but then you always knew you wanted kids."
Sheryl nodded and her deep joy was apparent. Roseanne could only wonder at it. She'd never experienced the urge to bear children, herself. But tonight, for the first time in her life, she felt curious about it. This was Sheryl, after all, her best friend. It was only natural to wonder.
"Well, you'd better go." Sheryl was all business. "Don't want you to miss your flight."
"Oh, that's right. Your news almost made me forget." It really had. That was odd. Roseanne rose and folded her napkin onto the table. "I won't feel bad about leaving you with the dishes, seeing you've got help this evening."
Sheryl grinned cheerfully. "Let me walk you to your car."
As the women walked the front path to the street, Sheryl asked, "Who is this client you're going to sign up, anyway?"
"No one I've mentioned before. It's all very sudden. I just met him yesterday and then George gave me this terrific idea of how to get my foot in the door." Roseanne grinned as she thought of how surprised Mr. Carruthers was going to be to find her black-pump-clad foot in his cast-iron doorway.
"Well, take care." Sheryl pressed her cheek against Roseanne's. "And, I don't know if this makes sense to say, but 'have a good time.'"
Roseanne barked out a laugh. "Oh, this is going to be very entertaining, if nothing else." The whole enterprise might consist of nothing more than a round trip to the Houston airport, but even that would be amusing, Roseanne thought. Yes, considering her plans for Mr. Carruthers, it should be most amusing indeed.
~~~
An hour later, behind a rack of colorful postcards of Seattle, Roseanne peeked out at the waiting airport lounge. There was only one airline with flights this evening to Houston. Roseanne's good fortune included the fact that this airline only had two flights. Carruthers would either be on the eight o'clock or the ten-thirty. She'd bought tickets for both, just in case.
Thank God for gold cards.
She froze when she actually saw him, walking down the concourse toward the gate. Oh, my. The surge of adrenaline hitting her was stronger than she'd expected. There was nothing like a good hunt, but this one was more exciting than most. Not only were the stakes high, but also it would take more sheer chutzpah than Roseanne had ever before used.
Burying her nose against a scene of Elliott Bay, she watched as Winthrop made his way past the metal detectors. The man in front of him had to get scanned head to toe by the over-sensitized instrument. The man behind him frantically emptied his pockets of change, but Winthrop sailed unconcernedly through, as if he hadn't expected the machine to give him the slightest problem. It didn't.
Roseanne waited while he traded his ticket for a boarding pass. Meanwhile she glanced at the large clock on the wall across from her. Only ten minutes until the plane would start boarding.
Carruthers found an empty chair in the lounge and seated himself heavily. All he was carrying was a bulky beige raincoat. Bending his head, he put one hand to the bridge of his nose and rubbed. He looked tired.
Good, Roseanne thought. Exhaustion might lower his defenses.
She replaced the postcard on the rack and pulled her suit jacket down over her hips. Time to move in for the kill.
"Mr. Carruthers."
He looked up at her in bald astonishment. "Miz Archer?"
"I told you I'd get in touch before you left town." Roseanne took the empty seat to his right.
He stared at her. "You did? But—here?"
"There's the matter of that newspaper gossip problem you wanted taken care of," Roseanne gently reminded him.
"Well, yeah, but..." Winthrop grunted and turned to face front. "There's nothing I can do about it. You and George were right."
"Oh...that's not strictly true."
She'd got his attention. His brows drew down the tiniest amount. Carruthers didn't give away much, but she was learning how to read the little he did show.
"What do you mean?" he asked slowly.
Roseanne flicked an imaginary piece of lint from her black pencil skirt. "Now, that all depends, Carruthers. On whether you're willing to make me a deal."
He turned to raise a very suspicious eyebrow at her. "Such as?"
"Such as: if I find a way to eradicate—forever—these rumors of a reunion with your ex-wife, will you sign a retainer agreement making CovMarch your corporate lawyer ag
ain?"
He took in a deep breath. He let it out with something very strange, something she'd never seen on his face before: a smile. It wasn't much of a smile, granted, just a slight pulling back of the lips and a pair of shy crescents around the corners of his mouth, but it was a definite, bona fide smile.
"That's a mighty interestin' deal." His smile actually grew a little. "I'd say if you can get rid of Sylvia—forever—I'd happily sign anything you put in front of me." He cocked his head. "But I'm afraid they're calling the flight."
He rose from his chair and held out his hand to her. "Why don't you give me a call tomorrow afternoon? I'll be in the office."
Still seated, Roseanne looked up from his offered hand. "I'd much rather take care of this tonight."
A shadow of annoyance crossed his face. "I've got to get on the plane."
"That's okay." Rising, Roseanne pulled her own boarding pass out of her purse. "We can discuss it on board."
His annoyance transformed immediately to alarm. "You—what?"
Roseanne waved the piece of paper in the air. "I've got a boarding pass. So we can continue our discussion on the plane to Houston."
"But—you can't come to Houston!"
Roseanne wrinkled her forehead in mock consternation. "Why not?"
"Because—" Carruthers stopped and looked guiltily around. His voice had inadvertently raised. "Look." He took hold of her by the elbow and firmly guided her away from the line of people waiting to board the plane. "I'm probably not going to like your idea anyway. It would be ridiculous for you to waste your time—a whole plane flight and back. Plus, well, it just wouldn't look right, would it?"
Roseanne took hold of his hand and attempted to remove it from her elbow. It was a useless effort. His grip was like steel. "I don't know what you mean about not looking right. And how do you know I'd be wasting my time?"
"Because." His jaw set. "I know Sylvia and you can't come up with an idea that will outwit that woman."
The Fiancée Fiasco Page 2