The problem was Joshua barely knew she existed. Except if he remembered her as the nut who fell in the water at the picnic. Hopefully he had forgotten that humiliating incident. Yet even if he hadn’t, it wouldn’t matter, wouldn’t change anything.
Men like him were never interested in women like her. It was a difficult, distressing fact to accept, but Eleanor firmly believed she had ... until she came in contact with him. Then the woman she was—the woman who possessed a head filled with common sense, not romantic dreams—vanished, and visions of impossible fantasies captured her imagination.
From her cocoon of safety Eleanor heard Mrs. Jackson’s cultured voice ask, “Is Ms. Graham here?”
Now was the perfect time to make her presence known, but Eleanor felt paralyzed with dread and incapable of moving. There was a long, silent pause and in her mind she pictured a speechless Jeanne pointing toward the copy machine, revealing her outlandish location.
“Ms. Graham, may we have a word, please? I’m on a rather tight schedule this afternoon.”
The deep, dark tones of Joshua’s husky voice sent a delicious shimmer down Eleanor’s back. He must think I’m some sort of lunatic, she reasoned as a small bubble of nervous laughter escaped her clenched lips. Hiding inside a copy machine. That was almost as good as falling into a pond. Talk about making a memorable impression!
Eleanor glanced down at herself and groaned softly. Her skirt was rumpled, her blouse untucked, the tips of her fingers were coated with black toner, and her suit jacket was back at her desk. She pressed her hands to her hot face, wishing she could crawl completely inside the machine and shut the door behind her. But retreat wasn’t an option.
Eleanor pulled her head out of the machine, squared her shoulders, and stood on her feet, vowing not to make a total fool of herself. Somehow.
“Hello, Mrs. Jackson, Mr. Barton.” Eleanor nodded her head politely, deliberately keeping her ink-stained fingers behind her back. “How may I help you?”
Staring at her, neither Mrs. Jackson nor Joshua could completely hide their shocked reactions to her sudden materialization. Eleanor swallowed hard and moved an unruly clump of dark curly hair off her face. I must look a lot worse than I thought.
Eleanor glanced nervously about the room, noting that Jeanne had vanished. Coward.
The seconds ticked away and the silence created a knot of tension in Eleanor’s empty stomach. Just when Eleanor was beginning to doubt she would ever be able to breathe normally again, Joshua spoke.
“Don’t we have repair people to handle this sort of problem?”
“hug?”
Eleanor bit her tongue, scarcely believing she had just uttered that inane sound. Striving for a quick recovery, she launched into a hasty explanation.
“Actually we do have a service contract with the copy machine’s manufacturer and for the most part the individuals they send to work on the machines are very competent. Not always punctual, however. I mean, we’ll call the company and explain that our machine isn’t functioning and that we need service ASAP but that doesn’t always guarantee that a repair person will be here on the same day.
“Once we waited nearly two full business days before someone finally appeared. So when the machine jammed today, I decided instead of wasting more time waiting for a repair person that might or might not show up, I’d try to remove the paper jam myself. And I have. Almost.”
Eleanor drew in a deep breath and stared triumphantly across the room. Mrs. Jackson’s eyes widened in astonishment while Joshua’s eyes narrowed in confusion. Terrific. Now she was babbling like an incoherent idiot. She should have stopped talking after her eloquent, opening huh.
“We have not come here to discuss copy machines, Ms. Graham,” Mrs. Jackson said in a frosty tone. “Mr. Barton has a very delicate situation that I thought you would be able to help him with, however I’m not sure my assumption was correct.”
“I’ll handle this, Edna,” Joshua interrupted.
Mrs. Jackson bristled, but quickly deferred to her boss. Joshua flashed an utterly devastating smile at Eleanor, and she fought hard to keep her excessive eagerness to please from showing in her expression. After all, she did possess some pride.
“This is actually a personal matter, not a business situation,” Joshua began. “I want it understood from the beginning, Ms. Graham, that you are under no obligation to help me. Okay?”
“O-okay,” Eleanor stammered.
“My father has recently remarried. Mrs. Jackson thought you might be familiar with his new wife. Rosemary Phillips?”
“The children’s author?”
“Yes.” A faint suggestion of color brushed Joshua’s strong cheekbones. “Apparently she is quite famous. Unfortunately I’ve never heard of her, nor have I read any of her books.”
“They’re wonderful!” Eleanor exclaimed. Her mind unfroze as she spoke on a subject near and dear to her heart: children’s literature. “Rosemary is so gifted. I’m constantly amazed by her talent. She’s written over fifty books and she illustrates as well as writes the text for each of her stories. Her characters are enchanting. They’re funny and endearing and utterly charming. She’s brought hours of reading enjoyment to children and adults all over the world. I adore her books.”
“It’s nice to know that Rosemary has such loyal fans,” Joshua said diplomatically. “Do your children enjoy her stories as much as you?”
“I don’t have any children,” Eleanor said quietly, hoping the color of her face was merely beet and not fire-engine red. “I’m single.”
“Single?” A muscle ticked in Joshua’s cheek. “Actually that might make things a bit easier.”
Eleanor’s heart gave a thud that shook her entire body. She stared intently at Joshua, somehow managing to hold his gaze for one breathless moment before looking away. Unbelievably she felt his eyes still on her face, so she glanced back. He sent her an encouraging smile.
It suddenly became difficult to breathe. Maybe it was the fumes from the copier ink she had inhaled earlier? Eleanor told herself it was ridiculous for a twenty-eight-year-old woman to have such intense adolescent feelings for a man who had never and would never look at her as anything more than an employee.
Yet somehow that didn’t matter. Apparently her heart didn’t possess any common sense when it came to Joshua Barton.
“Easier?” Eleanor squeaked. “What exactly do you mean?”
“I’m going to be meeting Rosemary for the first time this weekend and I feel at a great disadvantage since I know so little about her and her work.” Joshua shrugged his broad shoulders. “Do you think you could spare the time to give me a crash course on Rosemary Phillips’s ... um ... literature?”
“Certainly,” Eleanor said in her most professional voice, hoping to cover the sharp pang of disappointment that swept though her. Well, what did I expect? A dinner invitation, a marriage of convenience proposal, a plea to bear his child? If I continue acting like a hopeless romantic around Joshua, then I fully deserve to be disappointed.
“I appreciate the help, Ms. Graham,” Joshua said formally.
“I’m glad to be of service, Mr. Barton,” Eleanor replied with a forced smile, annoyed with herself for feeling an almost desperate need to prove her worth. Why did it matter so much?
Her smile eased away and she mentally pulled herself together. “I recently read an advance copy of Rosemary Phillips’s latest book. It’s sure to be another hit. She’s introduced a new character, Pinkerton Pig. He’s a riot.”
“Pigs?” Joshua regarded Eleanor with a dubious expression. “Rosemary writes books about pigs?”
“No, not really,” Eleanor quickly replied. “I believe Pinkerton is Rosemary’s first pig. Her most famous characters are brother and sister rabbits, Alex and Allyson. Of course my personal favorite has always been Owen. He’s a dog ... well, a puppy actually.”
“Fifty books filled with puppies? Pigs? Rabbits? I’m never going to be able to keep all this straight,” Joshua m
uttered in a distracted tone. “I’m flying down to D.C. tonight for a bipartisan fund-raising dinner. I’ll be staying in the capital for the rest of the week for congressional hearings on the current economic conditions of the Third World. These are very important meetings. I need to keep focused on that agenda.”
“You’re pushing yourself too hard, Joshua,” Mrs. Jackson scolded. “You haven’t left the office until after midnight for the past week and a half. You should really try to reschedule this weekend trip.”
Joshua waved aside Mrs. Jackson’s suggestions. “I’ve already accepted my father’s invitation. I cannot cancel at this late date.”
“Perhaps Ms. Graham can accompany you on the plane down to your father’s on Friday night,” Mrs. Jackson suggested. “The corporate jet can leave here with Ms. Graham at three o’clock, make a quick stop at the airport to pick you up, then continue south. The flight from D.C. to North Carolina is nearly an hour. Ms. Graham can brief you on the plane.”
“I suppose that might work,” Joshua said. “Congress tends to wrap things up early in the day on Friday.”
“I can’t possibly leave on Friday afternoon,” Eleanor interrupted.
Joshua and Mrs. Jackson turned toward her in surprise, as if they had somehow forgotten she was in the room. Mrs. Jackson’s hard glare made her momentarily flinch, but Eleanor valiantly continued.
“I have an appointment, a commitment really, on Saturday morning that I can’t change.” She swallowed hard. “I can leave anytime after 10:30 A.M. on Saturday if that helps.”
The dour glare from Mrs. Jackson seemed to indicate it didn’t help one little bit, but Eleanor doggedly waited for Joshua’s response.
“Saturday will be fine. We’ll return on Tuesday.”
Eleanor felt her mouth open, but couldn’t speak. She turned to Mrs. Jackson in confusion. The older woman looked equally shocked.
“I only meant for Ms. Graham to accompany you on the flight, Joshua,” Mrs. Jackson corrected. “I certainly didn’t expect her to spend the weekend at the estate with you as your ... your ... date?”
“Why not?” Joshua said casually. “I think it’s the perfect solution. If Ms. Graham is kind enough to do me this personal favor the very least I can do is extend her the famous, or rather infamous, Barton hospitality.”
“I couldn’t possibly intrude on a family gathering,” Eleanor said, hardly believing she was arguing. Wasn’t this her dream come true? Four days and three nights with Joshua Barton.
“Nonsense. The house will be filled with at least thirty people. There will be additional functions with over a hundred attending. One more guest won’t create any difficulties.” He gave her a strange look, then leapt to his feet. “Since I’ll have so little time to prepare for meeting Rosemary I’ll feel more comfortable having you by my side, Ms. Graham.”
“I ... um ... well,” Eleanor stammered. Coherent speech was impossible as her mind took a wild fanciful flight, light years beyond reality.
“It’s settled. I’ll return home Friday night and we’ll leave on Saturday. At eleven A.M. Mrs. Jackson will make all the arrangements and provide you with a schedule of the weekend’s events so you’ll know what to pack. I believe there is some sort of formal party Sunday night.”
Joshua held up a hand as Mrs. Jackson started sputtering objections. She quieted instantly, pressing her lips into a thin line. She didn’t look very happy.
“You know where to reach me if anything unusual comes up while I’m gone, Edna. Call me immediately, regardless of the time,” Joshua instructed his assistant. Turning toward Eleanor he added, “Thanks again for your help. I’ll see you on Saturday, Ms. Graham.”
He strode purposefully out the door, taking all the excitement with him. Eleanor’s head was spinning. Was this really happening? Was she going to spend a weekend with a man she had dreamed about for untold hours? A man who was totally beyond her sphere, completely unobtainable, so far out of her reach it was almost laughable?
She exhaled a quiet breath, trying to regain her wits, and realized for the first time that she hadn’t actually agreed to accompany him. But, of course, she would.
And then the reality of the situation hit her full force. Biting her lip in nervous frustration, Eleanor pondered the question that plagued women throughout the ages. What in the world am I going to wear?
Joshua walked swiftly through the carpeted hallway. He had a pain behind his eyeballs that was rapidly forming into a tension headache. Thinking about his father usually had that effect on him, probably because they had been at odds with each other for most of the thirty-two years of Joshua’s life.
Growing up, the elder Barton had wielded his parental authority like a sword, and Joshua had rebelled at every turn. His mother had provided a much-needed barrier between the volatile father and son, but with her death five years ago the chasm had split wide open.
Joshua’s mother had bequeathed her interest in the family business to her son, giving him a controlling majority. Joshua had made an honest effort to work with his father, but when that failed, he forced his father to retire, driving another wedge in an already unstable relationship.
With each passing year they drifted further apart, until eventually they were nothing more than polite strangers. Joshua had not attended his father’s private wedding ceremony earlier this year, pleading an unavoidable business obligation.
He realized it was a mistake the night of the wedding, but it was too late. There had been no communication between father and son until a short, handwritten invitation arrived two weeks ago. The significance of this unexpected olive branch was not lost on Joshua. His father was reaching out. And Joshua was determined to do everything within his power to make up for his earlier slight.
“Hello, Mr. Barton.”
A breathless, sexy female voice invaded his thoughts. He glanced up and saw a long-legged golden vision gliding toward him.
Joshua’s patented smile came automatically. “Good afternoon, Ms. Colter. I hope you’re having a pleasant and productive day.”
Ms. Colter’s eyes widened with unconcealed excitement, probably because he remembered her name even though she had only worked at the firm a few months.
Ms. Colter slowed her steps noticeably, eager for an opportunity to chat, but Joshua nodded his head dismissively and kept walking. He had learned long ago to protect himself against feminine wiles, especially when the woman in question was an employee. In an age of sexual harassment lawsuits it made good business sense to maintain a professional distance.
Besides, the last thing he needed right now was the complication of a relationship. Past experiences in that area of his life were not among his finest accomplishments.
“Joshua, wait!”
He stopped, turned at the sound of the familiar voice, and watched Edna race toward him.
“It is a major mistake bringing Ms. Graham to North Carolina,” Edna stated without preamble. “With a little effort I know we can devise a much simpler, far more efficient plan.”
Joshua shook his head and smiled. Edna’s forthright, no-nonsense manner was one of the qualities he admired most about her. Even if it did make him nuts sometimes.
“I’ve already made my decision. She’s coming with me.”
They reached the elevator. Joshua stabbed at the button, then held the door and politely waited for his assistant to precede him. The moment the doors shut, Edna spoke.
“I’ll have Ms. Graham write a summary report for you, emphasizing the highlights of Rosemary’s career. I can fax the report to your hotel the moment it’s done. You’ll have the remainder of the week to familiarize yourself with the details. I’ll also purchase an assortment of Rosemary’s books so you can read them before you arrive. They must be short if they’re written for children. You can probably read at least a dozen of them on the plane.”
Joshua watched Edna hastily scribble notes on the small memo pad she always seemed to have in her hand. He gave her a curious look.
“Why are you so negative about Ms. Graham? I thought she was the perfect solution to my problem.”
“You’ve got to be kidding!” Edna nearly dropped her memo pad. “She’s a disaster. A totally inappropriate companion for you. She babbles, Joshua. And her appearance! There was a hole in her stocking the size of a moon crater, her hair looked like it had been combed with an eggbeater, and her face was smudged with black ink. I heard a rumor that she fell in the lake at the company picnic. I can’t even begin to imagine what your father will think when you walk into his home with Ms. Graham on your arm.”
“Don’t be such a snob,” Joshua said, unexpectedly annoyed by Edna’s judgmental tone. “Ms. Graham will be fine. Besides, her complexion is flawless. I’m sure she’ll clean up very nicely.”
Edna’s response was a huffy snort and a raised eyebrow.
The elevator doors opened, saving Joshua from further arguments. But Edna matched his long strides and marched with him step for step to his office.
“I am through discussing this,” Joshua stated emphatically. He closed the office door after them. “I want to show my father that I care about him and that I’m interested in his new wife. Ms. Graham can help me do that, Edna.”
The older woman sighed in frustration. “I know I can’t budge you once you’ve made up your mind. But for the record, I want my objections noted.”
“Fine.”
They stared at each other for a full twenty seconds before Edna turned on her heel, breaking the impasse. The door shut behind her with a forceful bang. Joshua expelled a heavy breath. He closed his eyes and rubbed the lids. His headache was getting worse.
He really hated it when Edna was right. The simpler solution to this problem would be a detailed report from Ms. Graham. There was no logical reason for her to spend the weekend with him.
Yet he wanted her with him, standing beside him. He thought he had recognized her as the woman who had fallen into the pond but he wasn’t sure until Edna had mentioned it. In his opinion she had shown grace and humor under the most difficult of circumstances. Perhaps that was exactly what he needed this weekend—a little comic relief.
A Night to Remember Page 3