Hers By Request

by Karen Ann Dell

  Dev was mulling over Chris’s parting remarks when Rosemary announced Amanda’s arrival. He’d not expected her at the studio today but planned to see her at her house around dinnertime so her unexpected visit seemed oddly coincidental with Chris Majewski’s.

  Generally any time he got to see her was good, but after the conversation with Freud, he found himself unsettled. On the one hand, the time they spent together in what Dev thought of as his fantasyland trickled away faster and faster and he wanted to slow it down. On the other, the strain of keeping the truth from Amanda was increasing with every passing minute and he almost wished the party was over so he could finally confess.

  He stood up as she barreled through his office doorway, a worried expression on her face.

  “I’m sorry to barge in on you like this, Dev, but I’ve got a problem and don’t know what to do.” Rather than sit in the visitor’s chair by his desk, she paced the length of the room and back again.

  “Tell me. Maybe I can help.”

  “I was at the old Wyndham place this morning, accepting a delivery for the party, and much to my surprise, Mrs. Wyndham showed up.”

  “Okay, first, sit down and take a breath. The pacing back and forth is wearing us both out.” Obediently she sat on the very edge of the chair, still wringing her hands and biting her lip. He came around from behind the desk and cocked his hip on the corner. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her so upset, except— “Is it something about your dad?”

  “Dad? No. No. Nothing like that.” She took a deep breath. “Mrs. Wyndham wants me to hire a singer for the party. She went to some big shindig in Annapolis given by one of her friends”—Amanda put air quotes around the word—“who had a singer from New York performing, so now she wants a singer. I told her it was too late to find someone but she got all huffy and lady of the manor on me. Told me if I couldn’t find a singer she might cancel and go with a different event planner.”

  “That’s ridiculous. The invitations have gone out and she won’t find another event planner able to put together a party of this size on such short notice. To say nothing of the fact that she’d still have to pay you the cancellation fee as well as pay the new planner. She won’t want to spend that kind of money. Relax. She’s bluffing.”

  “She didn’t sound like she was bluffing. And I, uh . . .” Amanda hung her head, blew out a long breath then looked up. “I didn’t write a cancellation clause into the contract.”

  “Ah.” Dev rubbed his chin.

  “Yeah. I am so stupid. I can’t believe I made such a terrible mistake. I called the band and asked if they knew anyone who might perform . . .”

  “And?”

  “They gave me a couple of names but they were all booked for the weekend of May ninth.”

  “Not unexpected. As you said, this is very short notice.”

  “Oh, Dev, what am I going to do? Zoe counted on me to take care of the business side of our partnership. If she loses the gallery it will be all my fault. And I’ll probably go to jail for defaulting on my student loan.”

  “I don’t think they put people in jail for that. And besides, I still think the old biddy is bluffing.”

  “Easy for you to say. Your world isn’t about to come tumbling down around your ears in two weeks.”

  The irony almost made him laugh. “Let me try to find a couple of the guys from my old band and see if they know anyone who could help you out. Don’t get your hopes up, because this will be a long shot, but I’ll see what I can do.”

  Amanda leapt out of the chair and threw her arms around his neck. “Oh, thank you. You are a wonderful person,” she exclaimed. Her exuberance almost knocked him over and his arms came around her to steady them both. Before he could say anything, a discreet cough from the doorway had them both springing apart like two teenagers on a couch when Dad turns on the light.

  “Sorry, Boss. Didn’t mean to interrupt,” Mike said, doing his best to hide his smile but failing. He had some papers in his hand, but stayed at the door, waiting for Dev to invite him in.

  Amanda’s face was pink as a peony as she sat down again. Dev signaled for Mike to bring him the paperwork.

  “Just needs your signature, Boss. Then I’ll be out of your hair.” He allowed his grin to escape and Dev’s scowl only made it get broader. Dev sat back behind his desk and quickly scanned the papers before he signed them. Mike turned to Amanda and asked, “How are you, Amanda? We haven’t seen you around here for a few weeks.”

  “I, um, I’m good, Mike, thanks. How’s everyone here? Are you all doing okay?”

  “Yes, ma’am. We’re all happy as clams. Especially now that the boss is, uh”—he paused to give her a knowing look—“um, happy, too.”

  Dev quickly scrawled his signature. He noted that Amanda’s face was an even deeper shade of pink and Mike was grinning like a fool. “Mike,” he barked to get the man’s attention and thrust the papers back into his hands.

  Not one to be rushed, Mike tapped the papers on the desk until they were perfectly even, then clipped them together. “Thanks, Boss. Nice to see you, Amanda.” He did an about-face and left, whistling.

  Dev and Amanda exchanged glances.

  “Do you think he knows there’s something going on between us?” He’d been trying to keep their affair a secret, knowing that in a few weeks it would be history.

  Amanda nodded. “I’m pretty sure he knows. You must have let something slip. I know I haven’t said anything.”

  “Neither have I,” he retorted.

  “I don’t have time to worry about that now,” Amanda said. “Let’s get back to the possibility you might be able to find me a singer.”

  “I’ll make some calls and let you know,” he said, getting up and coming around to walk her to the door. He scanned the hallway, then took her in his arms and kissed her soundly. Pleased that he had erased the frown line between her brows, he kissed her once more for good measure. “When will you be home this afternoon?”

  “By four o’clock at the latest. What would you like for dinner?”

  He said nothing, just looked at her like a starving man staring at a banquet.

  She rolled her eyes. “If you look like that every time you think of me, no wonder people are suspecting things.” She crossed her fingers. “Good luck with the search. I’ve got to go tell Zoe about Mrs. Wyndham’s new demands.”

  Dev sat at his desk and stared at his phone. Time’s up, buddy. Just bite the damn bullet and do it. He dialed.

  “Hi, Mom, remember me?”

  “Oh, Dev, is it really you? How are you? Is everything all right?” With just those few words, the voice on the other end ran through a gamut of emotions—surprise, delight, worry, and finally caution.

  “I’m fine, Mom. I know I should have called before now, but—”

  “That’s all right, dear. I understand. I’m happy to hear from you now. Tell me everything. What are you doing? How’s your arm? Where are you?”

  They hadn’t spoken since she and his father had come to see him at Walter Reed. That had been a disaster. She had kissed him and cried, patting his good arm and stroking his forehead while his dad had stood, grim and unbending, at the foot of his bed, saying little other than a terse version of “I told you so”. Mom had offered her condolences for Danny, knowing how close the two had become during their two tours together, but his father had stared at his bandaged arm as if Danny’s sacrifice was doubly tragic since Dev’s career was gone and his talent as a pianist only a memory, now.

  “Slow down, Mom. Are you alone? Can you talk?”

  “Your father’s not here, if that’s what you mean,” she said sadly. “He’ll be sorry he missed your call.”

  “Yeah, right, Mom. Let’s not get into that, okay? I have a couple of favors to ask you.”

  �
�Anything, son. You know that. What do you need?”

  “I’m working at a little independent radio station out on Maryland’s Eastern Shore. I own it, actually.”

  “A . . . radio station?”

  “Yes, Mom. At least I’m still involved with music in some way. I used part of Aunt Edith’s bequest to buy it and I’ve hired a few other guys from the Army to help out. I work the night shift and get to play the music I love, but all of this is beside the point right now.”

  His mother sounded puzzled but her usual sense of optimism prevailed. “As long as you’re happy, dear. That’s what’s important.”

  His happiness would end in about two weeks but he wasn’t going to share that with her now.

  “I’m helping out Danny’s fiancée, Mom. We, uh, Danny and I, that is, had a pact that if anything happened to him, I would watch over Amanda and make sure she was okay.”

  “That’s a fine thing, dear. How is she doing? These past months must have been so hard on her.”

  “She’s holding up well, Mom. Amanda’s an exceptional woman. Smart and kind and generous. I can see why Danny loved her.”

  Images of her laughing, playing with Spook, sleeping next to him with her arm draped across his waist, brought the usual tightness to his chest. A longing for something he knew he could never have. He squeezed his eyes shut to banish the pictures.

  “At any rate, she is having some financial difficulties that I’m helping her work through. She has started a new event planning business and her first client is very influential in the town where she lives. Also very demanding. I’m, uh, acting as a deejay for her at this party and since it is a formal affair, I need a tux. Can you get mine out of mothballs and send it down here?”

  “Of course, dear. It’s still hanging in your closet. I haven’t changed a thing in your room since you . . . left.”

  “Thanks, Mom. I appreciate it.”

  It wasn’t right that he should punish her for the separation between his father and himself. He vowed to keep in touch with her more often.

  “I don’t suppose you’re coming up this way any time soon?”

  Her wistfulness came clearly over the phone line, and he grimaced.

  “Not in the near future. Are you teaching at the university this semester?”

  “I am. Only two courses. Enough to keep me occupied. Your father has been out of town a lot, doing those financial seminars, so I’d go stir crazy here without something to do.”

  Another shaft of guilt lanced through him at the thought of her alone in the sterile high-rise overlooking Central Park. He seemed to let everyone down.

  “I’ll try to call more often. And I’ll email you, too. Do you have the same address at the university as . . . before?”

  Everything in their relationship was divided into the time before or after his enlistment in the Army. The demarcation point that changed his life forever. No doubt it was a milestone for his parents as well.

  “Yes. Same address.”

  “I have one more favor to ask. Do you still see Mrs. Katzenbach?”

  “Sylvia? Yes, we meet for lunch occasionally. Why?”

  “I need to get in touch with Arnold. Do you know if he still lives at home?”

  “I believe he does, but he travels around the northeast quite a bit. He’s making a good living singing at weddings and bar mitzvahs, so he’s often out of town on the weekends. Not the Hollywood star he’d hoped to be but you know how difficult it is to break into show business.”

  “I need to get his cell phone number so I can call him. I’m trying to find a singer for this shindig Amanda’s coordinating. Her client dumped this request on her at the last minute, so we’re sort of under the gun here.”

  “I’ll call Sylvia and get it for you, then call you back. Is this number you’re calling from a cell phone?”

  “No, Mom, this is my office, but here’s my cell phone number.”

  He rattled it off.

  “Don’t give these to Dad, okay?” He doubted his father would call him, but he wasn’t about to take the chance he might have to listen to another lecture on how he had ruined his life.

  “All right, dear. But I do wish you two would talk. He’s not as heartless as you think, Dev. He worried more than you have any idea while you were in Iraq.”

  “Let’s not go there, Mother, please. Try to get that phone number for me as soon as you can.”

  “I’ll phone Sylvia right away, Dev. I’m so glad you called, darling. Take care of yourself.”

  Dev sat back and blew out a long breath. That went better than he expected, especially since his father wasn’t home to complicate matters. Now if he could reach Arnold and do a little arm-twisting, he might just get lucky.

  This morning’s conversation with Chris stirred his resolve to tie up more loose ends. The past weeks with Amanda had been a bright and beautiful bubble of time that he would treasure always. He’d put off doing things he knew would smash that fragile envelope. But it was time to man up. Tomorrow he would visit Danny’s mom. Then he would stop by Arlington and have a long talk with Danny.

  CHAPTER 20

  Amanda parked in front of the Silvercreek Gallery and noted a new sign in the window.

  ‘Sale! Twenty-percent Off All Art and Sculpture’.

  She sighed and steeled herself to break the bad news to Zoe. Today the cheery tinkling of the bell as she opened the door sounded mocking rather than welcoming. There were two browsers inside, no doubt attracted by the sign. She hoped they would buy something to counteract the depression Zoe would feel upon discovering that her business partner was not so business savvy after all.

  Zoe was at the counter, putting some jewelry into the display case. Amanda caught her eye and signaled that she was going to the back room, but Zoe waved her over.

  “Come see these new pieces Marjorie just brought,” Zoe said.

  Amanda pasted a smile on her face and greeted the woman dressed in a long peasant skirt and embroidered tunic.

  “Hi, Marjorie. I haven’t seen you in ages. How’s the B and B doing?”

  “Business is slow this time of the year, as usual. We get a little bump around the holidays, but then things die down until spring break. Gives me time to work on the fun stuff though,” she said, pointing to the array of earrings and necklaces laid out on velvet-covered boards.

  Amanda didn’t have to feign enthusiasm once she saw the display.

  “Oh, Marjorie, these are beautiful. I envy you your talent. You and Zoe are both so creative.”

  “Yeah, but you’re the business brain, Amanda. Without you to crunch the numbers, all of our creativity would be in vain,” Zoe said as she ducked down to put the new jewelry into the display case. “I think it’s your jewelry that brings the customers in, Marjorie, then I can sometimes snag them with one of Jeff’s sculptures or a painting.” She picked up a necklace of finely wrought gold in the shape of a vine with tiny blue topaz cabochons sprinkled like water droplets on the leaves. “This one goes in the front window. I know it will catch the eye of anyone who strolls by.”

  Marjorie beamed with pleasure at the compliments. “I’ll be on my way, then, Zoe. Let me know if anything sells and I’ll bring a replacement. And don’t forget, if anyone at the big party has a little too much to drink to drive home, point them in my direction. I’ll be ready to welcome them no matter how late the hour.” She turned to Amanda and lowered her voice. “I’d like to make an appointment with you in the near future. I’m beginning to feel that Mr. Coghill is not giving my business the amount of attention it deserves.”

  “Certainly, Marjorie. I’ll call you next week and see what time works best for you.” The normal elation she would feel at the prospect of a new client didn’t materialize. The possibility that Mrs. Wyndham could cancel and leave them wi
th all the rental bills completely outweighed the potential of one new client. Doing her best to look pleased with Marjorie’s request, she watched the owner of the Blue Point Inn leave in a flurry of silk scarves and softly chiming bangle bracelets.

  The other woman browsing left shortly afterward without making a purchase and Amanda saw the disappointment on Zoe’s face as she watched her leave.

  “It’s a good thing you came up with the event-planning idea, Mandy. That money will have to tide me over until the tourists arrive this summer.” Zoe led the way back to her office and offered Amanda a cup of coffee. “What brings you here so full of gloom and doom?” She put her hand on Amanda’s arm sympathetically. “Don’t tell me you heard something about your dad?”