Boardroom Proposal

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Boardroom Proposal Page 9

by Way, Margaret


  “Especially when Drew is paying you a fortune,” Ben said dryly.

  “I think I deserve it. I work hard. Long hours. And I did close the Garrett deal. Well, Drew did, but I set it up.”

  Ben tapped his nails on the table. “One thing is certain. You’ve been developing lots of new interests since you met him. All these functions you’re invited to. You’ve been photographed together at least four times. I wonder what the ex thinks of that?”

  “Probably doesn’t like it.” Eve winced to herself.

  As the days sped away Eve made the first move to find herself an evening dress. She’d never really had the occasion to dress up before joining TCR, much less the money. Now she was able to write off a large part of her wardrobe as a business expense. Ben wasn’t the only one to get a kick out of her transformation. One glance from Drew’s dark eyes was like being stroked all over with a velvety-soft brush. Suddenly she was a Woman. A woman moreover who needed a great dress for a big party. Lady Forsythe, who she had met only once and who didn’t appear to recognise her, always looked fabulous. As everyone was going, even Drew’s ex-wife and new high-profile partner, she had to hold her own.

  Lisa, as usual, accompanied her on her shopping spree, almost as excited to choose Eve’s outfits as if she were buying for herself. Finally they narrowed it down to three. Hand-beaded lilac lace in the very fashionable slip style, another a sequin and bead encrusted silk chiffon in a green that gave great depth to Eve’s eyes, and classic black with diamanté.

  “You’ll have to pull out the jewels,” Lisa said, rustling through the racks.

  “What jewels?” Eve called from the cubicle, smoothing the lilac lace over her hips. One had to be in great shape for this kind of gear.

  “A beaut pair of diamond earrings would do.”

  “Try rhinestones,” Eve laughed.

  “No, seriously, I have a pair I could lend you,” Lisa the most generous of friends, said.

  “I wouldn’t take them, Lisa.” Eve came out of the booth for inspection. “Thanks all the same. Imagine if I lost your twenty-first birthday present from your mum and dad.”

  “They’re insured.” Lisa shrugged that off. “You’re going to a very formal party. I want you to look the goods.”

  In the end they all thought the green, Eve handing the garment to the boutique owner who gave her a beaming smile. “I must say I like your style, dear.”

  “She should have seen you a few months ago,” Lisa whispered in a joking aside. “Virgin to smart, sexy Vogue. I always said you could be a knockout.”

  Twenty minutes before her guests were due to arrive Susan Forsythe swept around the house checking on everything as she went. Her whole aim from day one had been to be the perfect wife. Second wife. But no matter how many times since she had become Lady Forsythe and played hostess at David’s parties she always felt nervous and exposed to many critical eyes. Not that any of it showed. She could be as poised and confident as the rest of them. But so many of David’s friends had been friends of the late Lady Forsythe. No one, it seemed, could possibly measure up to that great lady. She had been genuinely loved and respected. A portrait of her still hung in the living room. A very beautiful woman, Drew had his mother’s wonderful eyes, fine, brilliant but melting, as though the person they belonged to was full of warmth and feeling. Susan would have liked to remove the portrait but that would have been viewed as treason.

  The long skirt of her striking black evening dress rustled as she walked into the dining room, her radiant blue eyes sweeping the beautifully appointed buffet. The finest table linen, silverware, crystal. Two large silver swans held the floral arrangement. All white. Butterfly orchids, lilies, roses and carnations, their purity set off by the deep green of the assorted foliage. Nothing stuffy and overdone. Lovely fresh flowers, beautifully arranged. She desperately needed David to feel proud of her. Once a woman with an established career in public relations, she now devoted herself to making her husband’s very busy life run smoothly. It was her primary aim in life, that, and trying to alleviate the stress that came with a big job. She felt honoured to be his wife. She had wanted their child so much. Part of him. Part of family. Part of—

  Susan gave a profound sigh, conscious her thoughts weren’t entirely centred on David. On the way upstairs to their bedroom she fingered her new necklace, the latest present from her husband, 18-carat yellow gold with a very modern and striking diamond pendant. It was a spectacular piece of jewellery and she had the looks to wear it.

  It irked her considerably Carol Forsythe had been invited, if only because she and the highly successful Peter Morgan were an item. Carol no longer had a place in their life. The most self-centred young woman Susan had ever met. Drew was well rid of her. Everyone but everyone wanted to be the second Mrs. Drew Forsythe. Drew was—magic.

  The one to definitely watch, strange as it seemed because she had no background to speak of, was his assistant Eve Copeland, from all accounts a very clever and competent girl with the same cool blond looks of a young Grace Kelly. Of course Eve Copeland was the one who had caught her in Drew’s arms a certain day months ago, though Susan had pretended not to know her. Drew, being Drew, had been comforting her. But that was the day her feelings for him had changed, slipped into a new dimension. Privileged as her life now was, it wasn’t all bliss.

  “One hell of a place, isn’t it?” Jamie whispered to Eve as they stood in the reception line. “I believe the present Lady Forsythe spent a couple of million making a few changes. Of course it was all Madelyn’s style. She was worshipped in this city,” Jamie remembered.

  Then she must be a very hard act to follow, crossed Eve’s mind. Under a magnificent cut-glass chandelier in the entrance hall stood Sir David and Lady Forsythe receiving their guests. Eve had been introduced to Sir David on his return from overseas and found him courteous but slightly chilling, with a severe, rather preoccupied manner.

  Certainly he was handsome, looking a good ten years younger than his acknowledged sixty-three. Silver wings added distinction to his still raven dark hair. Drew had a strong look of him, the lean height, the cast of features, but there the similarity ended. Sir David had little of his son’s great charm of manner and the eyes so important to the whole arrangement of the face differed in colour and expression. Sir David’s eyes were a piercing icy blue well in keeping with his personal style. Drew’s were his mother’s, as Eve was to find out.

  Lady Forsythe looked stunning. It took a lot of money to look like that, Eve thought. The gown, hair, the ultra-pampered skin, the diamonds that sparkled at her ears and throat. Eve had never seen such a necklace. It was very modern in design and it went brilliantly with the formal black gown. She appeared in her element receiving all their guests. There was no sign of Drew.

  When it was their turn to be greeted Sir David shot Eve one of his rapier glances, but complemented her on her appearance, surprisingly calling her by her Christian name. Jamie received an abrupt, “Good evening, Foster.” Once past their hosts Eve allowed her eye to roam all over the entrance hall. It certainly made a statement. Beautiful classical console, holding a glorious flower arrangement that must have cost a fortune, handsome gilded antique settee and chairs, magnificent carved rosewood stands holding tall Oriental vases of exquisite design. The floor was the traditional black and white marble, the divided staircase led to the painting-lined gallery above. To either side arched colonnades led to the main reception rooms.

  Eve and Jamie followed the crowd, entering a very large living room that in turn led to what must be the library. She could see walls of books through leaded-glass doors and a huge yellow terrestrial globe within its timber stand. The living room was absolutely lovely furnished in apricots, peachy-pinks and yellows for the many deep sofas and the drapes with a harmonising print on the scatter of Louis-style armchairs. Beautiful gilded oval mirrors flanked the white marble fireplace. Over the mantel was a light-filled Impressionist painting, the far end of the room dominated by a nine
-foot gleaming black Steinway. If Eve had asked, which she did later, she would have been told the piano belonged to the first Lady Forsythe who had been a very fine pianist and had given many a concert to raise funds for charity in this very room.

  “I wonder where Drew is?” Jamie, looking very attractive in black tie, stared over Eve’s head. “I bet he wanted to stop the ex from coming but she’s involved with Morgan now. He never gets left out of anything.”

  “I don’t know anyone here, do you?” Eve glanced around at the crowd of beautiful people. Most were standing in little groups, smiling and talking, obviously well known to each other. The Establishment. She had never been part of it.

  “Actually, yes,” Jamie answered carelessly, secure in his own monied background. “I freely admit connections got me my job, but I think I’ve proved myself.”

  “You have indeed.” Eve patted his arm, very glad of his company.

  A moment later an attractive young woman swept up, grasping Jamie around the waist. “Hello there, James. I was hoping we would meet up.”

  Not looking particularly thrilled, Jamie made the introductions, which the young woman acknowledged sweetly before bearing him off “for just a moment.” Jamie looked beseechingly over his shoulder. It was Eve he wanted to spend all his time with. She looked quite wonderful tonight.

  Left alone, Eve moved gracefully through the lovely expansive room pausing before a large portrait of what had to be the late Lady Forsythe.

  “My mother.”

  She knew a moment before he came behind her it was Drew. She would respond to his shadow.

  “You have her eyes and the curve to her mouth,” Eve said, without turning. “She was beautiful.”

  “And so much more.” Drew looked with deep nostalgia at his mother’s painted features. The artist, a famous one, had painted her at the height of her beauty when she was the same age as he was now. Thirty-five. He had never learned to live without her. His mother had been the real sustaining force in their lives. But like his father, he had finally accepted.

  “Now let’s look at you.” He turned her to him, hands remaining momentarily on her shoulders, absorbing her, a flame at the centre of his dark eyes. “You steal all the light.”

  Drew Drew. Drew.

  “I didn’t want to let you down.” She was aware her voice shook.

  “And those beautiful diamond earrings?” He pushed back a long silky strand of her hair the better to see them, his fingertips brushing the side of her face. “Now who bought you diamonds?”

  “Would you accept one of my admirers?” She allowed her green eyes to meet his. God, how could any woman control her responses with a man like this?

  “Tell me all about it,” he invited. “Actually don’t. I don’t want to know.”

  “The truth is they belong to a good friend of mine,” Eve relented. “A twenty-first birthday present from her parents. Lisa is very generous.”

  “She must be, and that’s nice, but you must get some of your own.”

  “Not at the moment.” She smiled, swallowed up by those dark eyes. She had made Ben give up one of his part-time jobs.

  “Come and meet people.” Drew took her by the arm—skin on skin.

  “I’m a bit nervous,” she admitted. A party as big as this attended by so many sophisticated, influential people would be a test.

  “You’ll learn to get over that very quickly,” he promised. Sure of it instinctively. “Anyway, Evie—” his glance caressed her face “—it doesn’t show.”

  Is everyone staring at me, Eve thought, or is it a figment of my imagination? It wasn’t. But Drew was the cause of it. She was simply the mystery woman by his side. That’s why the heads were turning. Who was she? What was she? It was odd they had never seen her before.

  Drew appeared oblivious to it all. People smiled at his approach. He gave them his extraordinarily winning smile back. Where his father was viewed with a mixture of caution and envy, sometimes a well-hidden hostility, Drew could have campaigned for first president of the republic.

  Soon she was shaking hands. Drew introduced her as Miss Eve Copeland, a valued member of his team. Some names and faces stood out. The people who appeared often in the newspapers or the society sheets, others became a blur even though Eve was very good at sorting out names and faces. She couldn’t help noticing Drew’s ex-wife standing with a big man in a double-breasted dinner jacket. He had the look of a footballer but Eve knew that was Peter Morgan, the entrepreneur. Carol was trying not to look their way, her expression and the arrangement of her limbs full of considerable hauteur. She wore the kind of dress one saw in Paris Vogue, stunning but impossible to sit down in. Her long dark hair was pulled back and studded with jewelled stickpins. She looked very exclusive and she’ll catch up with me some part of this evening, Eve thought. Carol Forsythe wasn’t the sort of woman to let go.

  It happened a short time before they were due to go into supper. Eve, who had been sitting talking to Elizabeth Garratt and one of Elizabeth Garratt’s old friends, excused herself briefly to have a word with Jamie when Carol surprised her by grasping her by the arm.

  “Ah, Miss Copeland, we meet again.”

  Eve turned full around smiling pleasantly. “Good evening, Mrs. Forsythe. How are you?”

  “Never been better in my life.” It was said so tightly it was almost a snap. “I must say you look very well.” This accompanied by a top-to-toe inspection.

  “Thank you. You look stunning yourself.”

  “Let’s sit down for a moment, shall we?” Carol shifted her hand back to Eve’s arm.

  “Just for a moment I’m afraid.” Eve allowed herself to be propelled into a quiet corner. “I’m keeping Mrs. Garratt company.”

  “Obviously you’re one of those people who’s always looking for opportunities.”

  “I guess so. They don’t knock twice.”

  “You’re a go-getter.” Carol sought to label her. “I’ve made a few inquiries. It seems you’ve won your way into the corporation’s good books in a very short time.”

  “That’s good.” Eve looked directly into the other woman’s eyes. “I work hard and I enjoy what I’m doing.”

  “I’m sure.” Carol gave a tight smile. “Most women would have given their eyeteeth to become Drew’s assistant.”

  “Executive Assistant,” Eve corrected mildly, determined not to rise to the bait. “He’s a great boss to work for. Inspirational.”

  “And eligible now I’ve left him.” Carol gave her a hard meaningful smile.

  “That’s where I’m different, Mrs. Forsythe.” Eve directed a serious gaze. “I have a career.”

  “So did dear Susan,” Carol Forsythe pointed out, suddenly looking furious at the thought. “Let me tell you about her.”

  Eve resolved to stop that at once. “I’d prefer you didn’t. There’s a theory talking about people is a sin.”

  Carol stared at her, then laughed. “Then most of us are going to hell. Susan married David for the title and the money. Everyone knows that. She’s much more m love with Drew. But she’d never admit it even to herself.”

  “Under the circumstances, that might be very wise.” Eve masked her own upset. “But none of it has anything to do with me.”

  “You’re not stupid, are you?” Carol gave her a shockingly bitter look. “You don’t look stupid. You forget Drew was my husband. I know these people backwards. I know, for instance, Drew is looking for an affair with you. If it hasn’t already started. He’s not a man to waste time.”

  It crossed Eve’s mind not for the first time, Carol was still in love with her ex-husband. “Your information, Mrs. Forsythe, is incorrect,” she said, surprised by the calmness of her own voice. “You must excuse me. I told Mrs. Garratt I’d only be a few minutes.”

  “Frightened of what you might hear?” Carol challenged.

  “What is there to hear?” Eve stood up. “Everyone looks perfectly happy to me. Lady Forsythe has been glued to her husband’s arm all
night.”

  “She’s no fool,” Carol said with hard irony. “Oh, she cares about David, I grant you, though I’ve always found him a touch daunting. Drew is the only one he loves, now the saintly Madelyn has gone. I have my suspicions Carol made her little play for Drew years ago, but he wouldn’t have noticed anyone he was too busy trying to get over me. A bit of a paradox that. He didn’t value me when he had me.”

  “Broken marriages are always painful,” Eve said, thinking Carol’s comment contained more spite than truth.

  “You do know he finds it impossible to remain faithful?” Carol, sitting stiffly on a Louis armchair, looked up.

  “So do most men,” Eve answered with visible tension.

  “That sounds extraordinarily bitter.” Carol stared at her. “So you do know?”

  “I try to steer clear of involvements, Mrs. Forsythe. I had a very unhappy home life. I’m not about to make any mistakes.”

  “Well, good for you.” Relief translated into a big smile. “I would have stayed with Drew forever but I couldn’t forgive his constant straying. It broke my heart.”

  The battleground of marriage, Eve thought, trying to deal with two conflicting sides of a story. Carol had sounded blisteringly bitter. Could it possibly be true, even during his short marriage Drew had strayed when it suited him? She was afraid to think of it. He had so disarmed her with his deep sincerity. Yet hadn’t she formed her own opinion before she came to work at TCR? The strikingly handsome and sexy Drew Forsythe was always photographed with some beautiful young woman on his arm. On his own admission, it was he who had left the marriage allegedly because Carol had refused to bear him a child. He certainly wasn’t deeply involved with anyone Eve knew of, at the moment. Except, quite extraordinarily, her and that involvement hadn’t gone beyond her own set boundaries. To be alone with Drew was to surrender to a dangerous desire. She couldn’t help that. She was human, not the smoothly running machine she had thought herself. Besides, she had learned the stark realities of life young.

 

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