Mr. Right Next Door

by Arlene James

  Not for the first time, Morgan wondered what kind of idiot would toss such a woman aside, as her ex obviously had done-her and their child. The thought boggled the mind. How had a woman like Denise, who was obviously extremely sensitive, even gotten involved with a man like that? But then who was he to ask such a question? He, too, had loved the wrong person. He, too, had paid a heavy price. Ah, but life was good now. Still, it could be better. He thought of the nights he went to bed alone and of the mornings when only the company of his dog kept every day from beginning in a gray funk. His hand warmed against her back as he pictured Denise in his bed, tousled and soft, a smile spreading across her luscious mouth as she opened her eyes to find him there. Oh, yes, he was going to enjoy playing his part tonight—and hope that it inspired her to allow him to turn pretense into reality.

  They strolled past various small, trendy shops and arrived at the entrance to the restaurant. They were greeted at once and led out into the maze of snowy white tablecloths and deep, comfortable chairs. Halfway across the room, Morgan slid his hand up to Denise’s shoulder, feeling the satiny warmth of her bare skin beneath the filmy fabric of her wrap. “Denise.”

  She did just what he wanted her to do. She checked her graceful stride and craned her head back over her shoulder to look at him. He bent his head to hers and gave her a quick wink, whispering, “I just wanted to tell you again how very beautiful you are. Now smile. Just as though I really were your boyfriend.”

  She did so, blindingly, and it took no effort at all to put the appropriate amount of heat in his gaze as he smiled back. He settled his arm about her waist and urged her forward again. She was practically glued to his side when they reached Dayton’s table. Both men immediately came to their feet. He knew which one was Chuck Dayton instantly. His smugness and not-quite-hidden irritation would have tipped Morgan off at any rate, but the covetous manner in which his gaze raked over Denise cinched it Gerald Baker, in comparison, was a forthright, plainspoken gentleman.

  “What a lovely young woman,” he said baldly, “and bright as sunlight, too, I’m told. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Jenkins.”

  “Why, thank you,” Denise replied smoothly, then insisted that he call her by her given name as she lowered herself regally into the chair that Morgan held for her. She smiled up at him as she settled into place, and he let his gaze target her mouth, communicating his very real desire to kiss her, as much for her benefit as for Dayton’s.

  With the introductions made and the ice thoroughly broken, Morgan took his place at her side and immediately possessed himself of her hand, holding it lightly against his thigh. The small gesture did not escape Chuck Dayton, who had placed himself on Denise’s other side at the small round table. Talk was trivial and sporadic as drink orders were taken and menus were presented. Then, as they waited for the appetizer to arrive, Chuck knocked back two bourbons and firmly steered the conversation to business matters.

  Baker’s company wanted to upgrade their merchandise as well as their image. He wanted recommendations concerning what brands should be dropped and which should be sought as replacements, as well as detailed cost analyses for each change, and he wanted Denise to handle the job personally. She quickly nailed down exactly what information he sought and in what format he preferred it and gave him a delivery date that seemed not only to please him but to surprise him, as well. Then she went on to tell him exactly what figures and reports she would need from him before she could start. He promised to fax her everything that she required first thing Monday morning. They quickly negotiated a consultation fee to be appended to the contract he had recently negotiated with another of Chuck’s subordinates, and then Denise very coolly and very smoothly suggested that the fee might be waived if the contract, with its lucrative guarantee of minimum-order dollars, was extended to three years instead of one. It was obvious that the same idea had not occurred to Chuck and that it found great favor with both men. The deal was struck, and the business to which Chuck had wanted her to dedicate an entire night was concluded satisfactorily before the main course arrived.

  Morgan placed a hand on her knee and squeezed lightly, smiling to let her know that he was both impressed and proud. He felt certain that the pleasure in her own replying gaze was genuine. Chuck ordered champagne to toast the moment, but Morgan carefully limited himself to a single glass. If Denise drank a little more deeply, well, Morgan didn’t mind. He wouldn’t object if she got a little bit tipsy, just enough to let down her guard and enjoy herself with him. Chuck, on the other hand, seemed to want to get her drunk. Every time she took so much as a sip from her glass, he was quick to replace it, so that it became difficult to gauge just how much she was actually imbibing. Morgan couldn’t help wondering what he was up to, and then it became obvious.

  Chuck began to touch her in an increasingly more intimate manner. First, he put on a good show of bonhomie and then just casually reached over and laid a hand over her forearm as he praised her competence. From there he progressed to clamping a hand over her shoulder, then patting and rubbing her back. He cupped her nape in the palm of his hand and eventually slung an arm around her shoulders. Long before he managed to work a kiss on the cheek into his routine, Morgan was struggling to maintain his calm, unconcerned facade. Only the sure knowledge that a reaction of jealousy was exactly what Dayton was after enabled Morgan to keep his cool. Denise was clearly uneasy with all the touchy feely stuff, but short of breaking his arm or dumping her wine in his lap, she was pretty much defenseless. The man was her boss, after all, and he was pawing her in front of an important client.

  Worse, he was making it seem normal for the two of them, as if it was something that happened all the time. No doubt he wanted to plant doubts in Morgan’s mind, foster the impression that he and Denise were already lovers. Morgan knew it was a lie and occasionally tried to telegraph Denise a message of support and reassurance while seeking a means of counteracting old Chuckie’s shenanigans that would not reap untenable repercussions for Denise. When Baker’s pager sent him from the table in search of a private telephone, Morgan knew the moment had arrived.

  Using the moment of Gerald Baker’s departure, Morgan leaned close to Denise and whispered that this was a good time for her to powder her nose. When she looked askance at him, he smiled and quietly implored her to trust him. She hesitated for perhaps five seconds, but then she calmly rose, excused herself, turned her back and gracefully strode away. He watched just until the door to the lounge swung closed behind her. Then, without so much as a flicker of warning, he reached across the table, grabbed Dayton’s expensive silk tie and hauled him forward, leaning in at the same time in order to bring their faces nose to nose.

  “Touch her again,” he growled, “and I’ll pulverize your bones one by one.”

  The threat was out, and he was lightly patting Dayton’s cheek before the other man recovered enough to even think of resisting, at which point Morgan merely released his tie and leaned back. Crossing his legs, he smoothed the napkin in his lap and smiled.

  “I’m quite serious, you know,” he said, ignoring Dayton’s sputters. He locked his gaze with the other man’s and said clearly, “Try to use your position to coerce or seduce her and I’ll see you in hell if I have to take you there personally. Do you understand me?”

  Dayton started to reply, but Morgan shifted his gaze away, caught sight of Gerald Baker making his way back to the table and smiled in greeting.

  “Do you understand?” he repeated just a tad more forcefully through his smile, and a quick glance in Dayton’s direction prompted a truculent nod. “Excellent. I knew I could speak your language.”

  “Listen, smart guy,” Dayton snarled, “you’ve forgotten just one thing. What if she’s the one who wants it?”

  Morgan put his head back and laughed. Gerald Baker was there before Dayton could do more than shut his gaping mouth. “Oh, that’s a good one,” Morgan chortled, just as Baker reached the table.

  “Good joke?” Baker inquir
ed, reclaiming his chair.

  Morgan waved a hand. “You had to be here.”

  Gerald nodded, obviously eager to speak of something else. “That was my wife. It looks as though I’ll be a grandfather by morning!”

  Morgan reached across the table to clap the older man on the shoulder. “Congratulations! Your first?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful. I hope everything goes well.”

  “It’s looking good. Her mother didn’t have a problem with any of ours.”

  “How many children do you have?”

  “Four. Our youngest is still in high school.”

  “I have a twenty-year-old son.”

  They chatted on amicably, ignoring Dayton, for several moments before Denise returned to the table and Morgan recounted for her Baker’s happy news. Denise exclaimed politely, and Morgan insisted on ordering dessert in celebration. Chuck insisted that another drink was in order and demanded more champagne. In comparison to everyone else’s, his mood was positively morose, but he did manage some appropriate comments and even a few enthusiastic bites of the rich raspberry torte floated in whipped cream and drizzled with chocolate, but he didn’t so much as allow his shoulder to brush Denise’s as he nursed his wine.

  Morgan, on the other hand, took advantage of the situation shamelessly. As it became more and more evident that Dayton had backed off, Denise became more and more relaxed, and Morgan himself refilled her glass. He then leaned close and eventually availed himself of her hand, receiving a warm squeeze in return. As the conversation became increasingly lighthearted, he put his arm around her. To his delight, Denise leaned into him, and once, in response to his praise of her racquetball game, even turned her head and placed a light, affectionate kiss at the corner of his mouth. By the time the prolonged dinner came to its inevitable end, it was obvious that Chuck had been quite effectively cowed and everyone else was well pleased, albeit for different reasons.

  The group broke up amicably. Chuck went off silently in the direction of the front desk, while Gerald professed his desire to retreat to his room so he could call his wife on the telephone again. Denise and Morgan wished the new addition to the Baker family well and walked out arm in arm to find the valet already bringing the car around. Morgan reserved the privilege of handing Denise into the car for himself, tipped the valet lavishly and took the wheel. For his money, the evening had turned out extremely well, even if nothing else came of it. Still, now more than ever, he hoped, he prayed, that this was just a beginning of things to come.

  Denise snuggled into the corner of her seat and laid her head against the headrest, sighing contentedly. She was happy and more than a little tipsy. And why not? She’d made a killer deal tonight, dinner had been marvelous, and her decision to have Morgan in on the evening had paid off handsomely. She couldn’t help smiling when she thought of the changed Chuck she’d found, upon her return from the ladies’ room. He had looked not only deflated but confused and even a little frightened. Whatever Morgan had said or done had achieved its objective, and she need not worry about retaliation due to the coup she’d single-handedly achieved with Baker. Chuck wouldn’t dare give her a poor review after that bit of inspired negotiation. Oh, yes, she had been brilliant tonight-and she wasn’t the only one.

  Curiosity suddenly intense, she lifted her head and focused her gaze on Morgan’s handsome profile. Heavens, he was a lovely sight He looked every bit as delicious as she felt. She was glad that she’d chosen him. Indeed, she’d been proud to have him at her side. If she were in the market for a significant other, Morgan was just the sort of man she’d want. That thought, however, was too troubling to ponder for long, so she shoved it aside in favor of a less threatening one.

  “Okay,” she said, giggling, “how’ja do it?”

  “Do what?”

  She meant to figuratively “blow off” his feigned ignorance by puffing her lips and expelling a short burst of air through them. Instead, she blew a raspberry and had to clap her hand over her mouth to stop. They both laughed, and he said indulgently, ”You seem to be feeling pretty good right now.”

  She wagged a finger at him unsteadily. “Don’t change the shubject.”

  “What shubject?”

  Had she really slurred her words? She supposed she had. She sat up a little straighter and said carefully, “What happened with Chuck tonight?”

  He shrugged and concentrated on his driving. “We had a little talk, man-to-man, that’s all.”

  She lifted an eyebrow at that, pretty certain what he meant. “You threatened him, huh?”

  For a long moment he seemed not to even have heard her, but then he flashed her a smile that came in somewhere between delight and apology and said, “All right, yes, I threatened him. But it worked, didn’t it?”

  She laughed gleefully. “I’ll say. You figuratively cut off his hands!”

  “I had to do something,” he teased, “considering the way you kept looking at your steak knife.”

  She laughed some more at that, feeling wonderfully carefree. How long had it been since she’d felt like this? She thought of Jeremy, and some of the delight in the moment waned, but somehow the automatic guilt trip did not kick in. Instead, she found herself thinking that it had been long before Jeremy was even conceived that she had last felt like this, long before ambition and drive had dominated her life, all the way back to childhood when good grades meant only an approving pat on the head, and summers were meant to be lazy and unfocused. She sighed, wondering when it had all changed. In retrospect, it seemed that one day she had been a happy-go-lucky child and the next she had been worried about getting into the best colleges after high school. One day she had been worrying about what movie to see on Saturday night, and the next she was consumed with her performance on the SAT.

  Her carefree days had been long gone by college. She’d known, of course, that a lot of the young people around her had gone nuts, drunk on freedom, trying every new thing that came along and studying only when no other alternative could be found. But she had looked down her nose at those people and concentrated on getting a 4.0 so she could go into business school for her MBA. When she’d made it, she remembered thinking that she could lighten up some finally, but Derek had disabused her of that notion.

  She hadn’t dated during college even casually, choosing instead to concentrate on school. So she’d felt that she owed it to herself to respond when Derek had first shown an interest in her. She wondered now if she would have fallen so completely for him if she hadn’t been starved for male attention. Unconsciously she had put aside feminine things back in high school when she’d attacked her goals with single-minded determination. When Derek had come along, she’d been startled to find that feeling like a woman was something she had never experienced, so it was no wonder, really, that she’d latched on to him. He had been more than willing. Why not? She had been ready to love, and he had been ready to be loved. They’d met during the first semester of graduate school, and their plans were laid by the next. It wasn’t until she had accidentally become pregnant with Jeremy that she realized the entire relationship was based solely on her slavish devotion to Derek and everything he wanted or espoused. The painful truth was that Derek had never loved her, and when he and his goals had stopped being the complete focus of her attention, he had walked away as easily as he changed his socks, leaving her alone to support and parent a helpless child. There had been no carefree moments after that—until tonight.

  She closed her eyes and savored the moment, unwilling to even acknowledge how fleeting it would undoubtedly be. Instead, she smiled at the vision that shimmered before her mind’s eye, Chuck sitting politely silent like the gentleman he was not, while Morgan’s arm encircled her protectively. She searched her mind for something with which to compare that moment, but none came to mind. She had felt protected in her father’s arms as a child, but that was only a part of what she had felt tonight. Tonight she had felt not only protected but valued for all tha
t she was—and more. She had felt incredibly sexy. She had felt protected, accomplished, adult, and very feminine. They were all things she had felt before, of course, but never all at once. It was a heady combination, especially when augmented by fine wine, and she admitted to herself now that it could be addictive, as well. The fact that she did not yet want to give it up was proof of that

  She didn’t know how long she floated there in that moment of memory, but gradually she became aware of some thing outside the moment. It was nothing more than a niggling sense of irritation at first, but gradually it coalesced into a hand determinedly shaking her and a voice that would not go away.

  “Come on, babe. Time to go inside. Wake up. Wake up now, sweetheart. Come on. Time to wake up.”

  Sighing, she opened her eyes, but nothing immediately happened. Several seconds passed before her eyes focused on a shape somehow more intense than the darkness around it. She sat up straight and rolled her head to alleviate a slight stiffness in her neck. “Where are we?”

  “In my garage. Here let me help you with that.” The voice in her ear was no longer irritating but silky and warm. He reached a hand around to the nape of her neck and began to massage the muscles there. For several delightful minutes he worked magic on her muscles. “Good?”

  “Wonderful.” She moaned with a pleasure so luxurious it bordered on sinful.

  “Then I’ll just keep it up.” He added the strength of his other hand, saying, “Let me know when you want to go in.”

  She mumbled that nothing had ever felt so good. His hands stopped, and he bent his head close to hers as if to hear her better.

  “Do you want to go in?”

  She shook her head. She didn’t want to go anywhere. Here was the loveliest place she’d been in a long, long time.