She paused. “Grant, I’m sure you want to get home.”
“No, not at all. It’s not all that late. Unless you want me to leave, and you’re having trouble coming up with a polite way to kick me out.”
She laughed.
“Seriously, like all men, I’m kind of dense and don’t pick up on subtleties. So if you want me to leave, you’ll need to just tell me.”
She shook her head, smiling at him. “It’s not that I want you to leave. I just don’t want to dominate your entire evening.”
Like he’d go where? Back to the penthouse and catch up on email from the office like most every other evening of his life? “In that case, I’ll stay. In fact, if Caroline would like a bedtime story, I’d love to read one to her.”
Alyssa gazed at him a moment. The crease in her forehead as she made her decision worried him that the answer would be “No, enough is enough. Go home.” But whether she felt sorry for him, or just enjoyed his company, her answer was, “That would be nice,” which planted a ridiculous happy grin on his face. She stood and called, “Caroline! Bath!”
He turned on the TV but barely paid attention as he listened for signs of wet fun coming from down the hall. About twenty minutes later, a freshly washed Caroline in a pair of pajamas stood in front of him.
“Mr. Fontaine, it’s time for my bedtime story.”
His heart twisted a little at her announcement. He stood and reached out his hand. She grabbed it and skipped down the hallway toward her bedroom. When they reached her room, she bounded onto the bed and snuggled into her covers, while he lingered in the doorway. Alyssa stood in front of the armoire, folding a short stack of clothes and placing them in drawers. He watched her finish her chore and then turn to face him.
He was way out of his element, relying on Alyssa to guide him through this typical fatherly night-time event. He had no idea what was appropriate and what wasn’t. He hoped his desperate gaze across the room at her broadcasted his need for help.
She appeared at a loss as well. It occurred to him that this was a new experience for her, too. Bringing a man into her daughter’s bedroom to take part in the night-time ritual had happened rarely, if ever. He knew from his investigations that she hadn’t dated much since Caroline was born, and knowing Alyssa as he did now, he doubted that she would have let a man into Caroline’s life very easily, knowing he’d most likely be gone sooner or later.
He ran a hand through his hair and grabbed the desk chair along one wall. He dragged it next to the bed and was in the process of sitting in it, when Caroline announced, “No, here. Sit here.” He looked at her and she was patting the mattress beside her. He immediately darted a nervous gaze at Alyssa. Of course he wouldn’t presume to get that close without Alyssa’s permission, spoken or otherwise.
Alyssa looked a little dazed, her eyes open wider than usual. She hovered in the corner for a moment before she took control of the situation, much to Grant’s relief. “What book would you like? Grant, you sit on her right side and I’ll sit here on the left.”
He nodded and did as he was told, settling himself on the edge of the tiny twin mattress. Caroline made her selection, Alyssa retrieved it from the bookshelf, and then she joined them on the bed. Much more accustomed than he was, she reclined onto the mattress and Caroline nestled into her mother’s shoulder. He took a breath, opened the book and sat, his spine erect, holding the book out to face the two of them, as if he were making a presentation to an audience. This, he was comfortable with, and he threw Alyssa a gaze of gratitude.
He made his way through the silly book made up of barnyard animal characters, earning giggles from Caroline when he attempted different voices and accents for each of them. Alyssa hugged her daughter, occasionally brushing hair off her forehead and generally looked the picture of a mother providing the best possible childhood for Caroline. He reached “The End” and Caroline reached for the book, handing it to her mother so she could replace it on the shelf.
“Thank you, Mr. Fontaine. You read it really good.”
Grant did an exaggerated “whew,” pulling his hand over his forehead. “Thanks. That was the first bedtime story I’ve ever read to a little girl.”
“Really? I guess you don’t have a daughter, huh?”
“Caroline,” her mother admonished, but not before the twist in Grant’s heart made its presence known again. He knew he should tell her he didn’t have a daughter, but as close as that was to the truth, he couldn’t bring himself to lie to her. So he shrugged instead.
“No nieces?”
This one was easier. “Nope. I was an only child. No brothers or sisters so no nieces or nephews.”
“I’m an only child, too.”
He nodded. “Yep.”
“Well, time for bed. You know what comes next. I’ll start.” Alyssa sang the first line of their special bedtime song, followed by Caroline. By the third line, Grant had joined in, much to the delight of his daughter, judging from the excited smile on her face.
When they finished the song, Alyssa said, “Good-night, sugar.” She leaned in for a hug and kiss. “I love you.”
“Love you too, Mommy.”
Grant stood, unsure if he should try to kiss her, or if that would be totally unwelcome.
“Good night, Mr. Fontaine.”
He looked once again at Alyssa for guidance and she moved her mouth into a little closed-mouth smile. He leaned down and gave Caroline a quick smooch on her forehead. He straightened quickly, but not quick enough to escape the heart-warming smell of bath soap and shampoo invading his nostrils. “Good night.”
He and Alyssa walked to the door together and turned. Alyssa switched off the light and closed the door, leaving it open a smidge. They walked quietly down the hall.
In the living room, Alyssa straightened up the room. When she ran out of tasks, she turned to look at him, her hands slid into her rear pockets.
He could take a hint. “Well, I better get going. Thank you for a terrific evening.”
She walked toward him. “Sorry I couldn’t swing a home-cooked meal, but those are pretty few and far between on work nights.”
He smiled and shook his head. “It was perfect.” A look of confusion passed over her features before she wiped it clear of emotion again. “As I said, Antonio’s is one of my favorites, too.”
She relaxed and nodded. He’d better watch comments like “It was perfect.” She could easily assume that he was getting too close, and put up her protective walls. Slow and steady, Grant, like the tortoise. Let her assume he’d meant Antonio’s, when what he really meant was the whole evening – her, Caroline, and him alongside them both – was about as close to perfection as he could imagine. Almost like he belonged here.
He could definitely get used to this.
He cleared his throat and walked to the door. She brought him his jacket and opened the door for him. “I’ll see you later this week.”
She nodded. “Yes, we have the meeting to go over the launch activities. Friday at nine, right?”
He knew she was right, but didn’t want to appear too anxious. He shrugged instead. “That’s Miranda’s domain – to get me where I’m going when I’m supposed to be there. If she scheduled us for Friday at nine, I’ll see you then.”
She nodded. He took a step out the door, but his body unwittingly took control over his mind and he turned back, lifting his hand to her cheek. Her eyes widened in surprise but she didn’t pull back. He took a breath and wanted desperately to kiss her. He wondered what she’d do if he did.
But they’d been over this before. They’d agreed to be professional, friendly. They’d decided not to be involved – it wasn’t good for either of them. So he reluctantly dropped his hand. “Thank you again, Alyssa. Good night.”
He turned and headed down the hallway so fast, he didn’t hear if she responded.
* * * *
The next morning, the daily rush out the door commenced ten minutes later than usual. “Come on, Caroline. W
e’re running behind. You’re going to be late for school.”
They jogged down the street and turned at the corner, descended the stairs into the underground cavern of the Franklin Street subway station. They pushed through the turnstile and crossed over to the opposite platform so the train would take them in the right direction. Alyssa sniffed as she waited, her heart pounding from the hurried exertion. Caroline must’ve sniffed at the same moment. The scent of stale urine permeated the air.
“Eeewww,” Caroline moaned, her little fingers plugging her nose closed.
“I know, honey. That’s New York for you.” The longer they lived there, Alyssa and Caroline made it a point to recognize and acknowledge these quintessentially New York moments. The smell of urine in the subway was one of the less desirable ones, but no less real. Whenever they passed a street vendor selling knock off handbags or jewelry for a fraction of the price of the authentic one; or a rickshaw driver, pumping his legs on the pedals while a well-dressed patron lounged in the back, one or the other of them would point it out, an irreplaceable moment that would be lost to the unobservant.
When they boarded their train, they sat down and took a breath. Alyssa checked her watch. As long as they didn’t run into delays, they should make it in time for Caroline’s bell. She looked down at her daughter and squeezed her hand, holding it in her lap.
“I really like Mr. Fontaine, Mom.”
“Yes, he’s a very nice man, isn’t he?”
Caroline nodded. “He read that story good last night.”
Alyssa smiled at the memory of the goofy voices he’d injected into the story for the sake of Caroline’s pleasure. “Well. He read the story well, not good,” she corrected.
Caroline nodded. She sat, the movement of the train jiggling her around a little. “Can he come over again?”
Alyssa paused. She had to admit, she’d wondered the same thing herself last night. They’d had a really nice evening and she wouldn’t mind having him over again. But she just couldn’t get her mind around it. Grant Fontaine, multi-millionaire, successful businessman, her client – coming over to share takeout spaghetti with her and her daughter. A niggling thought invaded her mind whenever she thought about it: why?
Why was he being so nice? So attentive? So interested?
If she had her way, she would work hard for him, develop first-class advertising for his company, serve his needs and move on. He wouldn’t enter her closely-guarded private life at all. But then, why had she let him in? Why him, when she hadn’t done it before with any other client in her entire career? There was something special about him. And God forbid, it was more than the fireworks he set off in her heart when she laid eyes on his beautiful face and body.
Several stops passed while she pondered this dilemma until suddenly Caroline tugged at her jacket sleeve. “This is our stop, Mommy.”
Alyssa jolted herself alert and looked out the windows at the sights flying past. “You’re right. Thanks, sweetie.”
They stood, made their way to the door and exited.
Chapter Ten
Alyssa sat in her tiny office, gathered her notes and materials into a pile and nestled them in the crook of her arm. She glanced quickly behind her on the credenza that faced the street, its hustle bustle traffic and activity lessened by her vantage point on the 27th floor. She picked up a folder from the credenza and added it to her stack. Her desk phone buzzed. She pushed a button lit up in red. “Yes? Alyssa here.”
“Your client is in the lobby. Mr. Fontaine.” The voice belonged to the receptionist for the agency, the keeper of the gate.
“Thank you. I’ll run down and meet him.” She left her office, dropping her load off at a conference room on the way to the elevator. She could’ve told the receptionist to let him board the elevator on his own, and she would meet him when he exited. But she wanted a moment alone with him. Well, somewhat alone.
She rode the express down to the ground floor and couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face at the thought of seeing Grant again. She checked herself – he was her client. Why was she feeling this undeniable attraction to him? What was it about this particular client that threw her way off her game?
But try as she might to push her attraction jitters aside, the magnetism proved stronger than the reservation. The elevator door slid open and she came face to face with the man himself.
“Hi,” she said, a little more breathlessly than she’d intended.
“Hi, yourself.” His grin was unabashed and happy. “You look great.” He took a step closer, gripped her elbow and brought her in so he could slip his nose behind her ear. “You smell great, too.” That last comment was delivered in a whisper, deliciously private and out of place, considering they were standing amidst the corporate activity of the greatest city in the world’s commerce central.
Alyssa felt a shiver flit down her spine. Alas though, there was a time and a place for everything, and right now, it was time to put the business hat on again. She stepped away from him and shook her hair away from her face. “Stop that. All business, remember? Now, ready to see what great things I have in store for you?”
At the sudden change on his face, she stared at him, and then laughed. In her own mind, she’d turned to business, but hadn’t realized her question could be misinterpreted. But that’s exactly what he’d done, and in reviewing her innocently intended words in her mind, she could see why.
“Yes, I have to say I’m ready for anything you have in store for me that could be described as … great.” He said it close to her again, in a deep, hushed voice that made an army of hormones march through her chest and into her groin, leaving a tingling desire in her most private of areas. His naughty smile made her catch her breath.
She coughed, knowing her face was flooding with crimson and wondering who around them was observing this fiasco, but dared not take her eyes off of him. “I’m sorry, but …”
“No apologies necessary,” he interrupted.
“… I turned the tables on you. I meant, are you ready to see what great advertising ideas I’ve come up with for Calibrite?”
He raised his eyebrows, searching her eyes for jest. Seeing none, he groaned. “You’re right. I’ll follow your lead. Back to business.”
They walked to the elevator and waited until one presented itself. They stepped on, the only passengers inside. She pointedly walked to the opposite corner from him for the ride.
He watched her for a second more, and then with another groan, he covered the short distance between them, leaned in close and captured her lips with an unexpected kiss. She gasped as his lips landed on hers. She absorbed the sensation of his warm, soft lips brushing over hers, his luscious tongue entering her mouth and the fireworks he released in her body. Short moments stretched into longer ones, and she closed her eyes to push away the realities of time and place, and just concentrate on the sensations.
She reached up and gripped his jacket lapels with both her hands, twisting her neck to allow him deeper penetration. Their tongues played an urgent but soulful game of wrestling, over and under and back again, until one of them, she wasn’t sure which, ended the kiss and pulled away. She backed up, panting, and brought her fingertips to her lips. She gazed up at his face and saw that he was undone as well. She wiped some lipstick from his lips with her thumb.
He smiled. “I know that was uncalled for.”
She shrugged, then shook her head. “I don’t know what comes over me when I’m with you. Work is the worst place we could be doing this. In fact, we shouldn’t be involved like this at all. It’s inappropriate. It’s totally unlike me. And yet …” Her protests rambled to a stop and she looked into his eyes, helpless to come up with the proper words to describe her feelings.
“And yet,” he finished for her, “it’s chemistry. We can’t help it. Try as we might, and as much as we know we shouldn’t, it’s stronger than we are.”
She stared. It was corny. It sounded wrong that two responsible, success
ful adults would be unable to control their own actions, and yet, he was right.
“Maybe it’s smarter than we are.” He grinned at her.
So, where did that leave them? They still had to work together. She couldn’t let something as trivial as a physical attraction stop her from doing the job he’d hired her to do, and to do it to the best of her abilities.
But when she was with him … in his arms or simply close to him, and she was breathing in his scent or brushing her fingers across his skin, his hair, or his tight muscles … it didn’t seem trivial.
It seemed real. It seemed unavoidable. It became the only response her body could possibly have at that moment.
And that realization scared the hell out of her.
“Yes, well. I suggest we go up to the conference room and we’ll go over what I have outlined for you.” Unwittingly, she ran her hands over her hair as she spoke, straightening the loose strands, patting down her clothes so they were all in place. Nothing out of the predictable here, all business, all the time.
He gave her a small, amused smile. “Yes, ma’am.”
A streak of frustration flared through her. “Don’t call me that.” She was having enough trouble remembering her role in this relationship. Her world was terribly topsy turvy at the moment, and she yearned to get back to the familiar. Finally, the elevator door slid open.
She held her hand out. “After you.”
He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
She exhaled and without stopping to think, she slugged him in the arm. “Stop it!” Then she marched off the elevator in front of him.
In the conference room, they spent a professional and civilized twenty minutes going over the newspaper ad blitz Alyssa planned to kick off the campaign. Print first, then online, then billboards. The Calibrite advertising campaign was going to break records and although she couldn’t ignore her hope that its success would qualify her for an industry award or two, more than ever she hoped that her ideas would help Grant reach his production goals for Calibrite. He nodded his approval at everything she’d shared so far, and handed out his praise sparingly. The meeting was going well.
Hidden Agenda Page 10