A Night to Remember

by Adrienne Basso

  She had quivered at his touch, had trembled at the feel of his flesh joined to hers. He had tantalized her with his kisses, had melted her with his sweet endearments and tender murmurs of encouragement. Again and again he had driven her to the brink of pleasure before finally working his magic upon her and granting her blissful release.

  A wave of heat went through Eleanor that had nothing to do with the temperature of the water. Even now, hours later, she still felt bathed in some strange afterglow of satisfaction. And yet, she could not deny the feeling that it would be nice to stay in the warm, moist cocoon of the shower, instead of going downstairs to face Joshua and perhaps several strangers, who were house guests.

  Morning-afters were a tricky affair. Fortunately, there hadn’t been too many of those in Eleanor’s life, but she had listened sympathetically to more than one girlfriend recount some horrendous experience. What made matters difficult this morning was the potential audience. Being a guest in someone’s home denied her, and Joshua, the opportunity to slip graciously away if they so desired.

  With a resigned sigh, Eleanor shut off the water and reached for a towel, drying herself briskly. She needed to vanquish these troubling thoughts. Self-recrimination was such an unattractive, unproductive emotion. Somehow she must find the inner strength to resist its allure.

  When Eleanor finally made an appearance in the dining room, Joshua was nowhere to be found. All that fretting for nothing! There were a few house guests milling around the table, enjoying the delicious brunch that had been prepared, talking together with ease and familiarity.

  Rosemary and Warren were also absent, taking a group of guests on a horseback-riding expedition, explained a maid. Eleanor lacked the courage to ask if Joshua was with them.

  Instead, she hesitantly joined the group eating brunch. After exchanging polite greetings, she took a seat at one end of the polished mahogany table and was promptly ignored. There were very limited efforts to include her in the conversation, though Eleanor freely admitted she had little to contribute. The discussion swirled around her, sounding almost like a foreign language. It was the talk of people she had never heard of and places she had only read about.

  She felt awkward and a bit shy, once again the outsider. It was an enlightening, though not altogether pleasant realization to discover that it was a far lonelier feeling to be ignored while in a crowd than when you were off by yourself.

  Deciding against the rich cheese crêpes and luscious pecan waffles, Eleanor instead gratefully accepted a cup of hot tea from a pretty blond-haired maid. At least she was friendly and appeared genuinely eager to please. Needing something to do while she finished her toast, Eleanor started observing the various maids in the room and made another startling discovery. Exactly how many servants were employed here? It seemed as though she never saw the same workers twice.

  She left the table the moment her tea was gone. Not surprisingly, no one seemed to take even a passing interest in her departure. Returning to her bedroom held no appeal, so she slipped quietly out to the back terrace.

  It was close to noon, the perfect time to do some exploring. After pausing a moment to get her bearings, Eleanor deliberately chose a direction that led away from the sea, but also away from the summerhouse. She soon discovered a landscape of incredible formal gardens and eagerly followed the worn path, winding her way around the carefully tended fragrant blossoms.

  After a while the trail began to slope upward, and when she came to the last row of boxwood hedges, Eleanor could not only smell, but see the ocean. She lifted her eyes toward the brilliant blue sky and spotted Joshua in the distance.

  He was perched atop a high, sandy dune, his face angled out toward the water. A noisy flock of gulls seemed to have captured his attention as they swooped and soared, taking turns diving into the sea. The prevailing impression of strength and power Joshua exuded was softened slightly by the contrast of his casual pose.

  Still, Eleanor staggered to a halt. She frowned, measuring him. Maybe she should turn around. Joshua looked so unapproachable and solitary. Surely she must be intruding on his privacy. And that was absolutely the last thing she wanted. To be an intrusion.

  He turned his head sharply. Eleanor froze. She was too far away to read his expression, to see what his reaction was to her unexpected appearance. But he raised his arm and waved.

  “Eleanor!” Her name drifted on the wind, floating down to her. She tried to tell herself it was only a call of recognition, of acknowledgement, but Joshua waved his arm again, clearly beckoning her.

  She moistened her dry lips and plunged forward. Yet as she drew nearer, a sense of uneasiness persisted. Along with a strange feeling of connection. Even in the stark reality of daylight, she could still view him in a romantic haze. Goodness, she really must be in love with him.

  She tucked a stray wisp of hair behind her ear and tried to prepare herself for just about anything. She knew that their lovemaking last night would forever change their relationship, but didn’t have much of a clue as to how exactly it would be altered.

  Joshua held out his hand. Clamping down firmly on the flutters in her stomach, she slid her fingers into his strength.

  “Hello, Eleanor,” he said softly after he had pulled her up to his side.

  She felt a rush of warmth and desire go through her. It seemed like months rather than hours since they had been tightly locked in a passionate embrace. “Hello, Joshua.” She took a deep, steadying breath. “Have you been out here long? It sure looks like it is going to be another beautiful day, doesn’t it?”

  “It’s nearly perfect. I came out here to clear my head about an hour ago. I’m finding it hard to leave. It’s the type of day that makes you want to lay around by the pool, relaxing in the sun, with a drink in one hand and a magazine in the other.”

  “Sounds ideal.” Eleanor laughed. “Where do I sign up?”

  Joshua frowned. “Regretfully we won’t be able to stay and indulge ourselves today. A minor crisis at the office needs to be dealt with quickly. I’ve been on the phone most of the morning, hoping to settle it long-distance. But I’m not making any headway.”

  She felt Joshua place his hand on her arm. “I’ve called a meeting for eight A.M. tomorrow and I’ll need time to prepare for it. Would you mind if we left late this afternoon?”

  Her throat went dry. Was it true? Or was he just looking for an excuse to get away from her? Anxiously, Eleanor studied his face for any signs of his inner emotions, but the look he cast her was indecipherable. It remained quiet and she realized he was waiting for her answer.

  “I can be ready to go anytime.” She gave a shaky laugh. “I just came along for the ride, remember?”

  “You’ve done far more than that, Eleanor.”

  Unable to meet his eyes, she turned away, staring blindly at the ocean. How desperately she wanted to believe that statement.

  Joshua let out an impatient sigh and glanced at his wristwatch. “I’d better get back up to the house. I’m expecting an important fax. It should be here by now.”

  A heavy somberness fell over her. She was hoping they would at least have time for a final walk on the beach together. “What time do you want to leave?”

  “No later than four.”

  “I’ll be ready.” She smiled fleetingly. The air between them felt thick with unspoken words. For a moment she thought he might kiss her, but he only smiled and turned away.

  Battling her disappointment, Eleanor lifted her arm to shield her eyes from the bright sun. She watched him jog across the sand, up the hill and disappear through the tall boxwood hedge, taking a small bit of comfort in the fact that she had managed to save some of her dignity.

  Seconds ticked away. Eleanor remained where she was, still staring off in the direction Joshua had vanished. Already the distance between them was starting, and she admitted that it was more than just a physical separation. Up until that moment she hadn’t wanted to admit that she had been entertaining a subtle fantasy of becomi
ng an important part of Joshua’s life.

  She turned away and blinked her eyes. Sadly she knew there was nothing she could do to prevent the inevitable separation.

  Was there?

  Joshua hunched over his papers, trying unsuccessfully to concentrate on the work set in front of him. His fax had arrived, his computer was fired up and ready to go, but he was having great difficulty stringing any coherent thoughts together.

  A shout, followed by a female giggle, then a splash reached his ears. These distractions were wreaking havoc with the numbers he was trying to crunch and ruining an already unhappy mood. He had deliberately chosen not to work in his bedroom, since it was directly over several terraced patios and near the pool.

  He figured by barricading himself in a little-used third-floor study he would avoid most of the outside distractions. But it hadn’t helped. The noise still found him, and even worse, he felt like a kid stuck inside doing his homework while everyone else got to play outside and have fun.

  Was there truly no peace and quiet to be found within this sixty-five-room house? Anywhere?

  Another shout, followed by the deep rumble of male laughter, had Joshua standing on his feet and pacing the room. How could anybody hear himself think with all that racket going on? For the life of him, he couldn’t understand how his father put up with all this nonsense.

  Sure, his dad was retired now, but Joshua remembered when he was growing up there were often guests at the house. Large groups of thirty and forty people, staying for a round of weekend parties and social events.

  As a child he never realized the significance of those gatherings. Powerful, influential men in government and politics were entertained within these walls, but Joshua’s only concern had been if anyone had brought a child or two along. If he was lucky, the youngsters were close enough in age to play with him.

  Those events hadn’t been purely social. There had been business conducted during those house parties. Important, significant deals had been struck that added to the growth and stature of the family business and to the personal fortune of the Barton family.

  Joshua rubbed his tired eyes. Maybe he should call upon a few of the old family friends to lend him a hand now. Because if he didn’t start working on a solution to this latest crisis immediately, there might not be much of a family business left.

  A knock sounded at the door. Eleanor? The thought brought a rush of elation. Eagerly Joshua yanked open the door.

  His father stood on the other side. “Another fax came for you,” Warren Barton said gruffly. “None of the servants could find you, but I had a suspicion that if you were working you were probably up here.”

  “Thanks.” Startled, Joshua accepted the document, realizing that his father was probably the only person in the world who could catch him so completely off-guard. “Do you want to come in?”

  “I don’t want to intrude,” Warren replied, standing stiffly in the doorway.

  Joshua let out a mocking laugh. “You’d only be intruding if I was getting anything accomplished. Trust me, that’s not the case. Please, Dad, come in.”

  “Well, maybe for a few minutes. Rosemary’s expecting me to help her settle some last-minute details for tonight’s dinner.”

  Joshua’s grin faded. “I don’t want to disrupt your schedule.”

  “Rosemary can wait,” Warren said in an almost gentle tone. He stepped into the room and glanced over at the desk where Joshua had spread out his papers. “So what’s the problem? A deal go south?”

  “You could say that,” Joshua replied noncommittally. He was not in the mood to be lectured about how to run his business or second-guessed over any decisions. In Joshua’s opinion, the only thing worse than trying to cope with this current mess would be to get into an argument with his father over it.

  “Is the problem with a client or an associate?” Warren probed.

  “Both.” Joshua winced inwardly. He had not meant to reveal even that much about his difficulties. Needing a distraction, Joshua poured them each a glass of iced tea from a pitcher he had brought in earlier. As he handed his father the beverage, he closely observed the expression on the older man’s face. Surprisingly, it was concern.

  “Some days it feels like everyone and everything is conspiring against you, doesn’t it?” Warren took a swallow of his drink. “There are a lot of things I miss about not working, but coping with employees who screw up isn’t one of them. Many people used to think I was a demanding boss, and I guess I was, but the fact is that someone has to take charge, take responsibility, make the unpopular decisions. That was me. And now it’s you.”

  His father reached over and patted him on the shoulder. The gesture was awkward and wooden, but the emotions behind it were sincere. Joshua looked at his father and suddenly the words started tumbling out.

  “It feels like the place is coming apart, Dad. Johnson has pissed off a major client and Morton blew a deal that I was counting on to raise our third-quarter profits. The competition is so tough these days I have to exert some major damage control or else these clients are going to walk. Pronto.”

  Joshua ran his fingers through his hair. “But those are minor concerns compared to the mess Weston might have made while putting together an initial public offering for an Internet company earlier this year. I’ve been reviewing some of his prospectus notes and I’m afraid he might have crossed the line with some of his decisions.”

  “Was the initial offering of stock priced too high?” Warren asked, citing a typical mistake.

  “No. Exactly the opposite. It was too low. Much too low. The stock took off and is holding high, so the company is thrilled with our work. But I have a strong suspicion that Weston somehow purchased a major block of this stock for himself.”

  “Insider trading.” Warren whistled softly. “This is very serious. How are you going to handle it?”

  “Right now all I have are suspicions and some figures that might or might not prove anything. What I need to do is amass enough proof so that I can confront Weston directly. He’s a partner in the firm, so I need to make sure I can force him to resign, before somehow convincing him to turn himself in to the authorities. That’s my only hope of keeping this entire incident relatively quiet.”

  Warren nodded his head. “Discretion is critical at this juncture. Even if it was only one man acting on his own and the firm is cleared of all responsibility, the publicity alone could ruin our reputation. And the last thing you want is some Washington bureaucrat poking his nose in your business.”

  “Exactly. If this situation blows before I can resolve it, I don’t want to look like I’ve been trying to cover it up.”

  “I could make a call to Washington and let one of my old buddies in the Treasury Department know you’ve got a situation brewing that needs a little time to get straightened out,” Warren offered.

  Joshua rubbed his chin. “It’s a risky move. If I can’t solve this on my own then I’ve given the government some very interesting information that will spearhead an investigation.”

  “That’s true, but you might also be telling them something they already know.” Warren regarded him skeptically. “You aren’t the only one who can be looking at numbers. Red flags might have been raised over this deal back when the stock started trading in the beginning of the year.”

  “Good point.” Joshua said. The corners of his mouth quirked in a grimace. “Any suggestions on how I should handle this?”

  A slight stain of red crept up his father’s neck. Joshua would have thought it signaled embarrassment, but there was no mistaking the expression of pride and delight on the older man’s face.

  The two men discussed various options, their voices occasionally raised to emphasize a point, but always speaking with respect. Joshua’s hand flew across the paper as he scribbled notes, at times copying verbatim what his father said.

  With a sigh, Joshua tossed his pen on the table, then raised his arms high, stretching his neck and shoulders. “It’s afterno
ons like this one that make me wonder why I fought so hard to gain control of the company.”

  Warren chuckled. “I know just how you feel. Right now you’re thinking it would be a whole lot smarter to jump on the first decent bid you receive and sell the damn company. Or ask the partnership to put together a buy-out agreement. Then all this mess could be someone else’s headache for a while.”

  His father leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his flat stomach. “Problem with that idea is that you’ll be looking to start up or buy another firm within two weeks. You just have to face facts, Joshua, you’re too much like me. And we aren’t the type of men who do well taking orders from someone else.”

  Perhaps it was the sympathetic tone, or the understanding look in the older man’s eyes that made Joshua pause and consider, for the first time, that yes, his father really did know what it was like to deal with this sort of pressure and responsibility.

  His father’s empathy was not hollow or condescending. It was genuine. And more important, it was the voice of experience talking. It might have been a different era, but his father had faced and overcome many of the same challenges. There was perhaps no one else who understood more what it was like to be the managing partner of Hamilton, Barton and Jones.

  In the past Joshua had always been quick to dismiss his father’s business advice as implied criticism, probably due to the older man’s dictatorial manner. But Joshua now conceded that he had done them both a great disservice by putting greater emphasis on the way his father spoke to him than what his father was saying.

  “You’ve got some smart ideas on how to handle Weston. Employee problems present some of the most difficult challenges you’ll ever have to face,” Warren said. “It’s always a fine line to walk. Just remember if you throw out an offer on the table, you’ve got to be prepared to live with the consequences.

  “Nothing more lethal than bluffing when you offer a deal. Those are the times you can really get caught with your pants down.” Warren smiled. “But why am I telling you this? You already know it. It won’t be easy coping with this latest insider-trading mess, but I trust you to make the right choices, son. The tough choices.”