Ulterior Motives

by Laura Leone

  “Shelley? This isn’t fodder for your business. This is between us, remember?” he reminded her.

  “Yes, yes.” She attacked her dinner enthusiastically. His story had answered so many of her questions about him. For the moment, there was just one more. “Who else have you told? I mean... all of this?”

  “I know what you mean.” His eyes met hers. “You’re the only person who knows all of it, Shelley. There’s an awful lot that I’m not proud of and don’t talk much about. I told you, I had to learn things the hard way. But... I’ll tell you the truth about anything you want to know.”

  Her eyes were equally serious as she said, “Thank you. I’m glad.”

  His mood changed, and his eyes sparkled as he asked, “But tell me, how did a nice girl like you get involved in a racket like this?”

  “It’s a very dull story compared to yours. I was a tour guide in Europe. I started out by working for peanuts during the summers while I was in college. After college, I got a real job. I loved to travel. I liked working with people. I even liked it when things went wrong, because it was a challenge. I opted for fun jobs rather than ones that paid well, so I was always broke. I had a cot in a corner of a crowded flat in Paris, but I was almost never there. I did the circuits almost nonstop for five years: Great Britain, France, Belgium, Luxembourg, Spain, Italy.”

  “I take it the gypsy life palled after awhile?”

  “Yes. I started having trouble remembering which city I was in or what language I was supposed to use. I grew to hate suitcases, hotels, backpacks, campsites, buses, campers, roads, restaurants—anything that was associated with travel. I took a leave of absence and went back to Chicago to spend some time with my family and think over my future. I was so glad to have some stability back in my life that I decided I’d had enough. It was a good run, but it was over.”

  “That was when you got a job with Babel?”

  “Yes. I applied to some other places in Chicago—including Elite,” she said significantly. “Babel hired me. I started out teaching and doing some office work. Everyone kept quitting, and within a year I was the assistant director. When the director of the Cincinnati school was fired, Jerome, my boss in Chicago, recommended they promote me and give me the job. He really pushed hard, because headquarters thought I was too young and too inexperienced. But they gave me the post in the end. And I’ve done a good job.”

  “A very good job. I might not even be here if you weren’t doing such a good job.”

  She sighed. “Ironic, isn’t it?”

  Unlike their silence earlier in the evening, they seemed unable to stop talking now. They told stories about the past, shared memories of their favorite places, laughed about some mistakes they’d made and admitted their regret about others. Shelley marveled at all he’d been through, at all the complex facets of Ross Tanner. No wonder she’d been irresistibly drawn to him the first time she’d seen him. He was even more extraordinary than she had guessed.

  He was still a flirt, still a smooth talker, and nearly every gesture bore the mark of his privileged upbringing. But there was so much more to him than the casual elegance and easy charm she’d first noticed. Whatever happened between them, she was very glad fate had thrown this remarkable man in her path.

  The restaurant was quiet and nearly empty when Ross noticed their waitress casting meaningful looks in their direction. “I think we’ve overstayed our welcome,” he said to Shelley.

  “What time is it?” She looked at her watch. “I can’t believe it! It’s past midnight!”

  Ross looked around. “No wonder everyone else is gone.”

  “I’ve got to get home, Ross. I have so much to do in the morning. I have to—” She stopped abruptly. It was there between them. She refused to let it spoil even a moment of their time together. She smiled instead. “We’d better pay up and go.”

  Ross left a generous tip on the table to compensate for staying all evening. He helped Shelley on with her jacket, and they walked out to his car. “I think I remember how to get there,” he said when she started to direct him to her apartment.

  “Don’t bother to hunt for a parking place,” Shelley said as they neared her building. “Just drop me off at the front door.”

  He stopped the car and looked into her eyes. She met his gaze squarely, neither embarrassed nor uncomfortable with the question she saw there. “Not tonight?” he asked softly.

  “Soon,” she promised.

  “I... need it to be soon.” His voice was husky with emotion.

  “So do I,” she admitted. “But... well, if you think about it, this was really our first date.”

  He had to smile. “You have such a way of putting things into perspective. But I’ll lay awake all night wanting you and thinking about how good it’s going to be.”

  She swallowed, heat rushing through her. “Do you...”

  “What?”

  “Sleep naked?” she asked at last, dying to know.

  His eyes gleamed. “Yes. Do you?”

  “No. I always thought if there were a fire or I suddenly developed appendicitis—”

  He chuckled. “Ever practical. Let’s make a deal for tonight.”

  “What?”

  “Let’s both sleep naked. It’ll at least give us something to think about, since you’re going to be such a killjoy tonight.”

  “Don’t be annoyed, Ross.”

  “I’m not,” he assured her. “I’m disappointed. But, believe it or not, I understand. On the other hand, some heavy petting...”

  “In this car?” she said incredulously.

  “No, I guess you’re right,” he sighed. “It’s pretty cramped in here for that sort of thing. And somebody could get hurt by that stick shift.”

  “Now don’t be vulgar,” she chided.

  He grinned mischievously. “I know, I’m incorrigible. It’s one of those faults I can’t seem to shake.”

  “I’m getting used to it.”

  “I’ll call you tomorrow. We’ll make plans for tomorrow night.”

  “Okay.” She leaned over to kiss him.

  His mouth slid over hers in moist, lazy circles, nibbling and tasting and teasing.

  “Oh, you’re so good at this,” she sighed.

  “I’m just warming up,” he promised her. His tongue slipped delicately into her mouth and greeted hers with soft, satiny caresses. His hand slid down to her breast and massaged it, touching her possessively, confidently establishing his right to do so.

  She felt her nipples hardening, felt the persistent throb deep inside her grow to an ache only he could assuage. Erotic images of him in her bedroom tumbled through her mind. She was on the verge of telling him to come upstairs with her when he pulled away abruptly.

  He didn’t try to disguise his labored breathing or the depth of his desire. He simply whispered, “Soon,” and reached across her to open her door.

  Good morning,” Shelley said brightly as she encountered Wayne and Francesca near the coffee machine at Babel the next morning.

  They both murmured good morning and said nothing more. Nobody talked about the open house at Elite. Nobody complimented Shelley on her new dress. Nobody remarked on how happy she looked. In fact they both avoided looking at her.

  Always one for the direct approach, Shelley said, “What’s wrong?”

  Francesca smiled tremulously then glanced nervously at Wayne.

  “Where were you last night?” Wayne asked.

  Shelley froze. “Why?”

  Francesca and Wayne glanced at each other again.

  He said, “When I realized you’d left Elite without me I asked around. The secretary said you’d left with Tanner.”

  “I didn’t leave with—”

  “No, actually she said you both tried to make it appear as if you were leaving separately. She said that Charles said that the two of you have gone out together before.”

  “We have, but it was a business lunch, and—”

  “So how come you never told me
about it?”

  “Because... I didn’t accomplish anything.” Shelley realized how lame that sounded. “Oh, the hell with it. It was because he offered me Chuck’s job with double the pay and benefits that I get now, and I didn’t want you to worry about it.”

  “Are you taking it?” Francesca asked, wide-eyed.

  “No, of course not.”

  “Then what were you doing with him last night?” Wayne demanded.

  “I... We... Oh, I can’t explain it.”

  “I thought nothing of it, at first. I was dying to know what you two talked about, in fact, figuring it had to be business. So I called your house. Again and again. Until well after midnight, Shelley. I even called his hotel, because I was a little worried. And he hadn’t returned to his suite.”

  “We were having dinner.”

  “Five hours is an awfully long business dinner.” The words hung heavily in the air. Francesca’s eyes darted nervously from Wayne to Shelley and back again. Finally Wayne said, “It wasn’t a business dinner, was it?”

  “No, it wasn’t,” Shelley said quietly.

  “You’re seeing him?”

  “Yes.” So much for keeping it a secret.

  She could see that despite understandable doubts, Francesca was happy for her. Wayne, on the other hand, was not.

  “Are you crazy?” he demanded.

  “Maybe,” she said wearily, all her joy in Ross turning sour.

  “Shelley, even if he’s being sincere, which I doubt—”

  “He is!” she insisted hotly.

  “If he is, do you honestly think you can do this? How do we know you won’t cave in and let him ruin us just because you’re so infatuated with him?”

  “I won’t,” she insisted. “Our relationship has nothing to do with business.”

  “How can it not, Shelley? Who do you think you’re kidding?”

  “After everything I’ve accomplished here, I would think you’d have more faith in my professionalism than that.”

  “And do you think headquarters will, after all they’ve said about him?” Wayne asked. “After everything he’s done to our business in other cities? Do you think they’ll believe for a moment that you’re still being loyal to them?”

  “Stop it!” Shelley was angry at him for voicing all the fears she had firmly pushed aside last night.

  “How do you think Jerome will feel, since he’s the one who got you this job in the first place? He’ll take a lot of flak for this,” Wayne warned her.

  Shelley tried to regain control of her temper. “Are they going to hear about this at headquarters?” She met Wayne’s gaze levelly. “Is Jerome?”

  “Are you going to ask me not to tell him?”

  “No. Are you going to tell him?”

  Wayne turned away from her and crumpled his paper coffee cup. He shoved his hands in his pockets, then pulled them back out. “Shelley, don’t do this to me. Don’t ask me to cover for you.”

  “Okay, I won’t.”

  “I have a career to think about, too.”

  “I know,” she said.

  “You can’t keep something like this a secret for long.”

  Not even for twenty-four hours, she thought sadly.

  “When Jerome finds out, he’ll also find out that I knew and didn’t say anything,” Wayne said heavily.

  There was a long, uncomfortable silence. Shelley felt an unbearable tension building inside of her, threatening to snap and shatter her into a thousand pieces. She felt guilty, as if she were indeed failing in her commitments, as if her feelings for Ross were sordid and sleazy and wrong. She and Wayne had never been close friends, but they had always been a solid working team. There had never been dissent or distrust inside the walls of her school before. Shelley felt terrible now.

  “Are you going to stop seeing him?” Wayne asked.

  Shelley was silent. She wanted to say yes, to promise she would never see Ross again.

  “For God’s sake, Shelley, can’t you control this?” he exclaimed.

  She shrugged. She had tried so hard to control it.

  “Why don’t you just take his job offer? Then you could do whatever you wanted with him, and no one would care.”

  “Wayne!” Francesca interjected. “Don’t say any more right now. You are both too upset.”

  Shelley raised hurt, embarrassed eyes to Wayne’s face. She saw the mistrust in his expression. She saw his doubt in her integrity, her loyalty, her capability.

  “You’d better call Chicago now,” she said quietly.

  “Damn you,” he snarled and stormed out of the room. She heard him slam the door of his office a moment later.

  “He is overreacting,” Francesca said.

  “Is he?” Shelley replied. “Do you think Jerome will think so? Do you think headquarters will think so?”

  “I think,” Francesca said calmly, “that you had no choice in this matter. I think from the first time I saw Ross with you, I knew this was inevitable between you. Che sarà, sarà.”

  Shelley smiled faintly. “Thank you.”

  The rest of the day went downhill from there. Hiroko and Pablo arrived to teach lessons. Their wary, curious eyes told Shelley that they, too, knew she had left Elite with Ross. Since the tension at Babel was thick enough to swim in, and since Ross’ secretary was obviously a nasty gossip, they no doubt put one and one together and came up with two people meeting on the sly.

  Ute came to teach her final lesson at Babel. She thought everything would be all right now that Shelley was seeing Ross. Wayne gritted his teeth and slammed his office door again. Shelley turned scarlet, realizing Ute’s implication; Shelley had fallen under Ross’ spell, so he would encounter no more obstacles.

  The engineers who had expected to study German at Babel called to schedule their lessons. Shelley had to inform them that she had just lost a German teacher and couldn’t offer them the intensive work they’d discussed until she hired and trained someone else. They called back an hour later to say they would be learning German at Elite instead.

  Shelley called Wayne into her office. He sat stonily in front of her while she delivered the bad news. She wanted to rage at him that it wasn’t her fault this had happened. She’d done everything she could to keep Ute, everything she could to keep the client. Ross simply had more clout and flexibility than she did.

  As Wayne rose to leave, Francesca informed her that Ross was on the telephone for her. The blistering contempt in Wayne’s gaze burned her. Who had she been kidding? She and Ross couldn’t separate business and pleasure. They lived in the real world, and no one would let them.

  Ross, Ross, she cried silently. “Tell him I can’t talk now, Francesca. Tell him I’ll call him back later.”

  “Are you sure?” Francesca asked with concern. “He should know what’s happened—”

  “Just tell him,” Shelley ordered.

  Ross called three more times that afternoon. She refused to talk to him every time. She couldn’t seem to focus on anything. Her work kept blurring in front of her eyes as she suppressed tears of sorrow and frustration.

  Finally, she gave up and went home early. She didn’t even bother to tell Wayne she was going. She couldn’t face the accusing look in his eyes again today. Francesca’s sympathetic concern was equally hard to bear when Shelley said goodbye.

  Alone in her familiar, cozy apartment, she knew she’d have to call Ross and tell him they had to break it off. But she didn’t have the strength to face him. Not now, not yet. Instead she gave in to tears and cried her eyes out.

  After her vagabond years, her job represented so much to her in terms of her self-esteem, her capabilities, and her future. She felt almost maternal toward all her staff and clients. She took her responsibilities seriously.

  But then there was Ross, the most fascinating man she’d ever met. Certainly the most complex and confusing one, too: exciting, intelligent, evasive, tender, charming, exasperating, sexy, brave. No one like him would ever come her way again, an
d she’d regret it forever if she just passed him by.

  She had wanted the job and the man, and had briefly kidded herself she could have both. But it was becoming eminently clear that she couldn’t. And her practical nature told her that a bird in the hand was worth two in the bush... He would leave eventually, anyhow. He never stayed in one place for long.

  His leaving, however, would probably mean he had effectively finished off her career. So why not take him up on his offer and start a whole new career at Elite?

  As Ross’ girlfriend. As his paramour.

  Maybe not. She really was good at her job. Henri Montpazier and the others would recognize that.

  But she wasn’t a quitter, damn it! And that’s what she would be doing to Babel, her staff, and all her experience there if she left to go to Elite and Ross. She really would be the rat deserting the sinking ship. She would be going against everything she believed in, everything she’d ever been taught.

  She just couldn’t do it. But could she reject Ross? She decided with steely determination that she would have to.

  The doorbell rang. Shelley frowned. Normally she would still be at work at this time of day. Who knew she was at home?

  There was an impatient knock as Shelley wiped her tear-streaked face. She stood up and walked sluggishly toward the front door.

  “Who is it?” she called.

  “Shelley, let me in,” said Ross.

  Chapter Eight

  What are you doing here?” Shelley asked.

  “Open the door and I’ll tell you,” was the muffled reply.

  “Ross, not now. I can’t...” Her voice stopped as tears welled up in her eyes and spilled over her cheeks again.

  “Let me in or I’ll pick the lock, Shelley.”

  She choked on unexpected laughter. How like Ross, she thought. No traditional heavy-handed threats to bust down the door. She also had no doubt that he could indeed pick the lock. With a sigh and a reluctant smile, she let him in.

  He pushed his way past her without an invitation and closed the door. His worried blue gaze took in her puffy eyes and tear-streaked face. He tried to put his arms around her. She backed away. He froze, then let his arms drop to his sides. She steeled herself against the hurt in his eyes, hurt he was trying to conceal from her.