The deserted alcove even contained a tiny table. Erin took the plate Slater handed her, inhaled deeply and poked a fork into the aromatic square. “It’s sort of like quiche without a crust, isn’t it?”
“I believe, if you approve, he’s planning to name it Eggs a la Erin.” Slater laid out sourdough toast, butter and jelly, and got a plate for himself. “By the way, Jessup asked me to tell you he’s very pleased that we’re to be married.”
Erin felt a little curl of tension deep inside. She hadn’t given much thought to what people would say when they heard about the sudden engagement; she only knew she wasn’t ready to face the reaction. But if Slater had already told his butler...
Not that she had any room to complain about whom Slater told or when, Erin reminded herself, for she was the one who’d broken the news to her mother before Slater knew it himself!
She didn’t realize how hungry she had been till her plate was empty. “That was wonderful,” she said as Slater packed up the remains once more. “Now I feel as if I can face anything. Thanks, Slater.”
He looked up from the wicker basket, eyebrows raised. “Is that a dismissal?”
“Well, I just assumed... I know how busy things are, and with me not there to help…”
“I’ll stay as long as I can. But you’re right, there’s a little matter of a bid that’s due this afternoon.”
“Universal Conveyer,” Erin said unhappily. “It’s in my office because I wasn’t finished putting the finishing touches on it.”
“Don’t start feeling guilty. It’s good for me to be reminded now and then of how many everyday details you’ve relieved me of.”
“But I should…”
“You should stay with your mother. I’d say the heck with the bid and stick around, too, if it wasn’t that the Universal Conveyer job will come in awfully handy to help support Aunt Hermione’s six nieces and nephews.”
“I thought you said there were going to be eight.” She said it carelessly, and only when Slater grinned did Erin really hear herself. She felt a wave of color sweep through her. “I mean...”
“I thought you were too nearly asleep for that conversation to register.”
“I must have been,” Erin said tartly. “I certainly didn’t mean—” She was only getting herself in deeper. Oh, why hadn’t she just pretended not to remember that silly exchange?
Slater sobered. “You’re not having second thoughts, are you?”
She realized he wasn’t watching her face but her fingertips, once again caressing the delicate chain at the open throat of her blouse. She hadn’t realized what a nervous habit it had gotten to be. “And third and fourth ones,” she admitted.
“Forget the nonsense about kids and just think about the partnership.”
“It’s a big change, Slater.”
“Not really. Nothing much will be different at all. Not until you’re ready.”
“And if I’m not ever ready?”
“We’ve covered this ground before, Erin.”
She must have still looked doubtful.
His index finger gently traced the line of her jaw. “It’ll be all right,” he said softly. “You’ll see.”
But she couldn’t help but wonder if he had simply been reassuring her – or himself as well.
*****
The surgery took hours, and the surgeon looked tired when he came out to make his report. Erin found herself clutching Slater’s hand and forced her fingers to relax.
“It went very well,” the doctor said. “I think it’s safe to say that in the long run we’ve got a cure. Now you go home and get some rest – she’ll need you even more tomorrow when she’s starting to feel better.” He patted Erin’s shoulder and was off to his next patient.
She sat perfectly still while tension she hadn’t realized she was feeling drained slowly from her body.
“Don’t pass out on me,” Slater warned.
He stayed till Erin got her balance back and left her with a quick, almost brotherly kiss on the cheek. She was glad of that, she decided as she wove her way through the hospital corridors toward her mother’s room. Things were complicated enough without a public repetition of yesterday’s sultry kiss.
Though she wasn’t altogether certain it was the public part which was making her insides quiver.
*****
When Erin appeared in the office, still wearing the casual slacks suit she’d worn to the hospital that morning, Sarah looked astonished to see her. “Mr. Livingstone told me you’d be taking the rest of the week off.”
“Leaving you to the mercies of whichever dinosaur he’s been imitating lately? I couldn’t be so cruel, Sarah.”
“You know, it’s really odd,” Sarah said meditatively. “I’d have thought with you gone he’d be worse than usual, but he hasn’t roared once, not even when I couldn’t find a file he wanted from your office. All he said was thanks for trying. What kind of magic spell have you worked on him, anyway?”
Now that was a strange reaction, Erin thought. If Slater had told her about the engagement, Sarah wouldn’t be puzzled at all, so the only logical conclusion was that he hadn’t told her. Of course, it was fine with Erin that he hadn’t broadcast the news, for she had enough to think of right now without the consequences of a public announcement.
And confiding in Jessup was different than telling a secretary, too. Erin hadn’t considered till just now that the butler might well have some serious adjustments to make in the household before a wife actually moved in. For one thing, just because the guest room she’d used on the night of the party had borne no sign it had ever been occupied, it didn’t mean the rest of the apartment was so pristine.
She didn’t know if she was pleased Slater had been thoughtful enough to make arrangements so she wouldn’t get a shock if she stumbled across evidence of other women in his past, or annoyed at the possibility that he’d had to.
“Anyway,” Sarah was saying as she followed Erin into her office, “just because he’s been behaving like a well-mannered diplodocus so far today doesn’t mean he won’t revert to allosaurus status any minute – so now that you’re here, could you possibly show me where you’ve hidden the specs we put together for Universal Conveyer before he changes his mind and chews me up for not knowing where they are?”
“I forgot to tell him I’d locked them in my desk.” Erin fumbled for her keys and found the folder in the bottom drawer.
“I owe you one,” Sarah said as she slapped the folder against her open palm. “Oh, one more thing. Dax Porter was in earlier about the ad reports he brought up. I didn’t know where to find those either.”
Erin pulled the folder from the bottom of a stack on a shelf. “Maybe I should draw you a map.”
“I could have searched, I suppose, but it didn’t seem worthwhile. He just wanted to know if you’d had a chance to review the report and pass it along, because if not he’d just bring up another set for Mr. Livingstone.”
“The last thing we need is more paper in this office.”
Sarah grinned. “Or Dax offering to buy you lunch so he can impress you by explaining it all?”
“There’s only one thing wrong with that scenario, Sarah – Dax wouldn’t offer to buy. If he bothers you again, tell him I’ll try to get to the report today.”
Erin was just settling to the task she’d left half-finished two days before when Slater tapped on her door. “What are you doing here, Erin? The doctor ordered you to rest.”
“This is restful, in comparison.” She put her pen down and leaned back in her chair. “Unless, of course, you came in to add a few items to my list.”
He smiled. “I don’t think I’d dare. How’s your mother?”
“That’s what I’m escaping. She came out of the anesthesia babbling about wedding gowns and champagne punch.”
“You said you intended to get her mind refocused on something positive. I’d say you accomplished what you set out to do.”
“Well, I didn’t intend for
her to get tunnel vision. Slater, she’s making plans for a wedding on Monday, and she’s going to be awfully disappointed when you tell her – because I’m certainly not going to be the one to break the news – that we aren’t getting married on Monday because we don’t have a license.”
Slater suddenly seemed very interested in the doodles on Erin’s desk calendar.
“You didn’t get a license, did you?” She could see the answer in the set of his jaw. “You did? Why? And when did you have time?”
“This morning after I left the hospital. And as for why – surely you don’t want me to quarrel with my mother-in-law before the relationship’s even official.”
Erin groaned. Life was a lot less complicated when I was only working for him, she thought. Or at least when my main title was personal assistant, not soon-to-be wife.
“Look,” he said briskly, “there really isn’t any reason to put this off, and a whole lot of good ones for going ahead. For one thing, the calendar’s full for the next several weeks.”
“And you’d like to have an official hostess on board?”
“It would make things easier for you, too, being right on the spot, so to speak, as you’re planning all those parties. It would actually leave you more time to spend with your mother than if you’re having to run back and forth. And in case you don’t find that a compelling reason, let me remind you of the whole wedding scene. If we push ahead right now, your mother’s illness makes a wonderful excuse for a small, intimate ceremony. If we wait…”
“There are hundreds of people who will expect to be invited.”
“And they’ll be disappointed if it isn’t the event of the century. So what about it, Erin?”
She closed her eyes. “I just can’t wait for Monday,” she said, irony dripping from her voice.
“That’s what I thought you’d say.” He set a small blue velvet box in the precise center of her desk blotter, then pulled a straight chair around and straddled it so he could watch her face.
Erin drew back from the box as if it were a glowing ember. She hadn’t had time to think of – much less anticipate – all the details that went along with an engagement, but even if Slater’s proposal was a great deal more business arrangement than love affair, he’d never bypass something as obvious as a diamond ring.
Maybe, just because of the irregularity of their agreement, he was even more likely to go overboard than the average man, buying a ring which was splashy and attention-getting in the belief that it would look more romantic than a simpler one.
She stared at the blue velvet box and reminded herself that in the year she’d worked for him, she’d never seen Slater display a splinter of bad taste. But then, she’d never known him to buy feminine jewelry, either.
And when it came to engagement rings, all bets were off. He wouldn’t be the first man to think that where diamonds were concerned bigger must be better, or to believe that the more ostentatious the ring the more his lady would like it. That must be how so many women ended up with engagement rings so gaudy they looked as if they’d come from a prize-vending machine instead of a jewelry store.
“If you’re thinking it was a little presumptuous of me not to give you a choice on your engagement ring,” Slater said, “let me assure you that I agree. Since it’s you who’ll be wearing it, you ought to be able to choose what you like.”
She looked up at him in puzzlement. “Then why…”
“Because I think that very soon your mother will expect you to turn up wearing one.”
The thought was not a reassuring one. If he’d selected a ring more to impress Angela than to please Erin...
Her fingertips trembled against the velvet.
“If you don’t like this one,” Slater said, “the moment things settle down we’ll find a ring you do approve of. But would you at least look at it?”
Erin’s stomach settled approximately back into place and she pressed the tiny gold catch. The box flew open and she caught her breath as she saw the ring inside.
The center stone was a pure, deep blue sapphire, breathtakingly beautiful but not so big as to be pretentious. The gold ring itself, perfectly scaled for her hand, was dainty and delicate, and the sapphire was set low, surrounded by tiny diamonds but with no protruding prongs to snag clothes or scratch skin.
Practical, she thought with a twinge of humor. Why had she ever doubted that it would be?
She looked up at him. “It’s awfully pretty, Slater.” She took the ring from the box and turned it back and forth, watching the stone catch the light. Sometimes the blue looked almost purple, sometimes it carried a tinge of green. “Diamonds can be so chilly. This is... gorgeous. But—”
“What don’t you like about it?”
Erin shook her head. “No, it’s perfect, really. But would you mind awfully if I didn’t wear it right away? Except for Mom, I mean?”
“Because of the nine-days-wonder our wedding’s likely to be?”
“That’s it, exactly. I know I’m only postponing all the hoopla, but for right now...”
Slater reached across the desk and took both the ring and her hand. He slid the sapphire into place on her finger and looked at it for a long moment.
He was putting no pressure on her hand as he gently cradled it in his, but Erin could feel the throbbing of her heartbeat in the tips of her fingers. She wondered what he was thinking, as he stared at the ring – the physical symbol of their agreement. Was he feeling hopeful? Confident? Cautious? Apprehensive?
“It looks nice,” he said. “I thought it would, but I’m glad you approve of it.” Casually, he slipped the ring off her finger and put it back in the box, then set the box in her palm. “Wear it, or not, as you like.”
Erin felt just a little deflated. To Slater, obviously, the ring carried no more sentimental meaning than would a fountain pen he’d used to sign an important contract. As far as he was concerned, it wasn’t a symbol of anything – it was only a ring.
She dug into the bottom drawer of her desk to tuck the box into the safest compartment in her handbag, and when she straightened up once more there was another velvet box, a black one this time, on the blotter.
“Oh, now really,” she began.
“This is different,” Slater said. “You said your mother wouldn’t believe you’ve earned a bonus, so I thought you might like something concrete to show her.”
“A bonus? For what?”
He simply looked at the box, and Erin realized he didn’t intend to answer till she’d opened it.
Inside the box, gleaming against the white satin lining, was a pair of earrings, each sapphire nearly the size of the one in her engagement ring, and perfectly matched in color. She looked helplessly from the earrings to Slater. “Now if you’d like to tell me how I possibly earned these...”
“Bob Brannagan signed the deal this afternoon.”
For a split second the news didn’t even register. “I don’t see what – He did? That’s marvelous! Then you figured out what his hesitation was?”
“Not exactly,” Slater said. “You did.”
Erin considered, and shook her head. “I can’t possibly have had anything to do with it.”
“On the contrary. You said Mrs. Brannagan didn’t seem to hit it off with the worthy Cecile, and when I asked him if that was true–”
“You can’t be serious. He put the entire future of a billion-dollar satellite communications business on hold simply because Frances Brannagan didn’t like Cecile? Any fool could tell that Cecile wasn’t what she –” Erin stopped dead, uneasily aware that she’d gone a bit farther than tact would have suggested.
Slater sounded perfectly calm. “Oh, there’s no doubt she’d read Cecile like an X-ray machine. What stopped her – and I can’t blame her, exactly – was that I didn’t seem to know the difference. And because Mrs. Brannagan was so convinced my judgment was flawed, Bob had begun to wonder himself whether he really wanted to do business with me.”
Erin put two fingers
to her forehead, right between her eyebrows, and pressed hard. “Because his wife didn’t like your taste in women.”
“Strange things can derail deals, Erin. You said that yourself, too.”
“So you told him Cecile was history, and he signed? I wonder what his wife will have to say when she hears you’re marrying me.”
“She said she’d like an invitation to the wedding,” Slater murmured. “I told you this would be a good partnership, Erin. Didn’t I?”
*****
When Erin came into Angela’s room on Monday evening, she was startled to see how well her mother was looking. She was still pale, she obviously tired easily, and there were a few new lines in her face, but for a woman who just days ago had been on the edge of death, Angela looked wonderful.
Her hair had already been styled and a hospital volunteer was bending over her wheelchair, makeup tray in hand, putting the finishing touches on her eye shadow.
“If I didn’t know better, Mother,” Erin said dryly, “I’d say you were the visitor instead of the patient.”
Angela waved the volunteer away. “If you make me look too healthy, they’ll kick me out of my room, and I’m not ready to go home till tomorrow.”
The volunteer laughed. “And you wouldn’t want to outshine the bride.”
Angela tipped her head to one side and studied Erin. “That wouldn’t be hard to do. Please tell me you’re wearing that ratty old trench coat of mine as a cover-up, not a fashion statement.”
“I’m wearing it because it’s raining,” Erin said, “and because I seem to have misplaced mine.” Feeling incredibly self-conscious, she laid the trench coat across the foot of Angela’s bed and turned slowly, making the spangles on the bodice of her white cocktail dress sparkle for her mother’s inspection.
Angela sighed. “Much better. That’s a lovely dress, dear. I’ve always thought so. Of course, I had no idea when you bought it for that convention last spring that it would end up being your wedding gown.”
The Corporate Wife Page 9