by Pat Ballard
Fifi also didn’t know that this Pam Spencer was the most sensual, sexy woman he had ever met in person. And that if it meant moving heaven and earth, he had to have her out of this house. He didn’t think he could stand that kind of temptation every day. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to get involved with some scheming user who thought she could just waltz into his life and take what was rightfully his.
Or did Fifi know all of this?
The thought struck him like a lightning bolt. Had she somehow discovered his fascination for a woman with lush curves, and was playing him for a fool? Was this her way to lure him home, and possibly back into the family business?
He leaped from the chair and headed to the back of his walk-in closet, to his secret hiding place. It had been a long time since he’d looked through his collection, but he remembered exactly where he kept it hidden. Pulling a panel from the back of the wall, he used a flashlight to peer into the secret nook he’d created when he was thirteen, just for his collection of magazines, pictures and posters.
It was empty! Anger shot through him like a dagger. How dare his grandmother plunder his property! These articles and pictures were becoming more and more valuable! Not that he needed the money, but the Marilyn Monroe memorabilia was a growing multimillion-dollar business, and he was sure some of the articles he had would bring quite a large sum at an auction.
But he couldn’t let Fifi know right now that he was on to her. That would just play right into her hands. No, but the valuable knowledge he’d just gained would give him an upper hand in the battle in which he seemed to have found himself engaged.
With added determination to have Tom and Pam Spencer out of his house, Reese went to bed to spend a restless night.
Pam had kept both jobs after moving into Bainbridge Hall. Fiona had tried to encourage her to at least give up the cleaning job, but Pam refused. She saw an opportunity to save all her money while they were at Bainbridge Hall with no bills to pay. When it was time to leave, she’d have a little nest egg to start over on.
Because in Pam’s wildest dreams she never believed Fiona Bainbridge would leave her money and holdings to Tom and her. Especially after meeting the powerful Reese Bainbridge. She was sure Reese had ways of getting what he wanted. But she honestly didn’t care as long as Tom’s health was back to normal.
It was usually ten o’clock when she got home at the end of her day. Some days she was so tired she could barely drag herself to her room before collapsing into bed. This was one of those nights, and as she wearily closed the front door to Bainbridge Hall, she turned and almost ran squarely into Reese.
“You keep some late hours, don’t you? What are you up to? Out seeing a boyfriend?”
It was the first time she’d seen him since their meeting beside the pool. Too tired to argue, Pam answered honestly, “No, I’ve been at work.”
“In jeans and a T-shirt? I thought you worked in an office. Come on, Pamela, give me a little credit.”
It was the first time he had called her by her name, and she liked the way it rolled off his tongue.
“I do work in an office during the day. Then at night I help clean the building the offices are in.” Pam tried to step around him, but a strong hand shot out and caught her arm to stop her.
“I think you’re lying through your teeth,” he whispered, close to her face. Pam smelled liquor on his breath. So that was it. He’d been drinking and was ready for battle. Well, she was too tired tonight, so his little battle would have to wait.
“Let me go, Reese. If you think I’m lying, why don’t you come to where I work, and find out,” she said, and tried to pull away from him. But he tightened his grip and pulled her closer to him. Her breasts were brushing the front of his shirt.
“Stop it! You’re hurting my arm,” she demanded weakly, as she watched, mesmerized, his lips lowering toward hers.
Not able to move even if she’d wanted to, Pam felt Reese’s hold on her arm become gentler as his lips covered hers. She would just let him kiss her, then maybe he’d let her go. But as soon as his lips touched hers a bolt of awareness shot through her like nothing she had ever experienced before, leaving her weak down to her very bones. Not wanting to, she felt herself sagging against his wide chest as his arms pulled her closer. One of his legs wedged between hers. Her lips parted slightly to allow his tongue to gently tug and trace the full curve of her bottom lip. Timidly she touched her tongue to his, which seemed to ignite him. She felt his hand slip under her shirt and up her ribcage to stop just beneath her breast, while his thumb gently moved back and forth on the tender skin.
But abruptly he ended the kiss and stepped back from her. She staggered from the unexpected release, and from the weakened state she was in.
“This is exactly what you want, isn’t it? Trap me in your little scheme, just like you trapped Fifi. Well, you can forget that!” He turned and bounded up the stairs, leaving Pam shaken and confused.
How dare that jerk! Attack her as soon as she walked in the door, and then try to act as if it were her fault. She was coming to the conclusion that rich people were lacking in a few major brain functions.
After spending a restless, sleepless night, Pam dressed for work the next morning and headed to the kitchen to get a cup of strong coffee to take to work with her.
As soon as she entered the door to the kitchen she spotted Reese at the coffee pot, pouring himself a cup. She was about to turn and leave when he spotted her.
“Pam, can we talk for a moment?” A note of perplexity resounded in his voice. “Can I pour you a cup of coffee?”
Well, this was surely a change. Reese Bainbridge being civil to her.
“Sure,” she agreed, laying her purse on the counter top, and taking the cup of coffee he handed her.
“Look.” He almost seemed embarrassed. “About last night. I’m really sorry. I’d had too much to drink, and I got out of hand. I really do apologize. I’m not a real cad, I just act like it sometimes.” His gaze held hers, and she caught a glimpse of another side of Reese Bainbridge.
“Apology accepted,” Pam said. She turned with her coffee and picked up her purse.
“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”
“I’m already late for work, Reese. I really do have to go. Don’t worry about last night. It was nothing.” Big liar, she accused herself, as she pulled the door closed behind her.
At six-thirty p.m. sharp, Pam, having changed from the dress and heels she’d worn to work into a pair of jeans and T-shirt, stepped out of the utility closet in the hallway, pulling her cleaning cart behind her. One of the dust cloths fell off and she stooped for it, just as it was swept up by a tanned hand with just a sprinkling of dark hair dusting the back and knuckles.
Startled, she quickly stood and found herself looking into the blazing blue eyes of Reese Bainbridge.
“So you weren’t lying, after all.” An amused smile lifted one corner of his mouth.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
“You told me to come check on you if I didn’t believe you.”
“So you thought I was lying?”
“Let’s just say I couldn’t believe any woman would keep holding down two jobs if she had hopes of getting her hands on the Bainbridge fortune.”
“You really do have a low opinion of women, don’t you?”
“Most of them.”
“Well, I don’t know who hurt you, but it wasn’t me, so don’t keep taking your nasty attitude out on me. If you don’t mind, now, I have work to do.” She made an attempt to push her cart up the hallway, but his large hand reached out and stopped it.
“Why are you doing this?” he asked. “Are you trying to impress on Fiona that you’re really a hard working person and you sincerely don’t care about her money?”
She was about to tell him that she never expected to see any of the Bainbridge money when she stopped herself. Why let him know she thought he’d win the battle in the long run?
�
��Actually, Reese, I’m not trying to impress anyone of anything. I just do this for the exercise. It doesn’t cost as much as going to a gym.”
A low chuckle rumbled from his wide chest.
“You know, you could still be scamming me. I want to watch you work to see if you really do clean these offices.”
“Oh, I don’t think so!” she exploded. “I’ll call security and have you thrown out if you don’t leave right now! You’ve got to be the most frustrating man I have ever known!”
“Have you known a lot of men, Pam?” Suddenly his voice was soft and insinuating.
“John!” she yelled toward the front of the building, where the security desk was. It didn’t take long for an older man in a uniform to come around the corner.
“Are you okay, Miss Spencer? Oh, hello, Boss, I see everything’s under control.” And he turned and headed back to his desk.
“Boss?” she squeaked.
“Yes. Bainbridge Corporation owns the security company that handles this building.”
“Well, of course. Why am I not surprised?” So he’d known all along she wasn’t lying. All he had to do was ask the security guard. He just wanted to harass her. Pam had an urge to smack the superior smile off his mouth. Or maybe kiss it. Where had that come from?
Needing to break the spell that just looking at his mouth had cast upon her, Pam clutched the handle of the cart and forcefully pushed it down the hall. “I have work to do. Watch if it pleases you, I don’t care.” She hoped her challenge would discourage him, but to her dismay she realized he was following slightly behind her.
As they reached the elevators, Reese stopped her. “I’m leaving now. And incidentally, for your information, I’ve never been hurt by a woman, because I don’t let them get close enough to hurt me.”
“Until now, you mean?” Pam smiled sweetly. She shot the challenge at him as the elevator doors swooshed closed on the astonished look on his face.
Chapter 3
Come in!” Pam barely heard the command through the thick oak door. Expectantly, she pushed the door open to find Fiona Bainbridge sitting at a huge desk, just like at Bainbridge Corporation. But the setting was much more relaxed here in her home office.
Family pictures hung on the wall and were arranged on the bookshelves. Small objets d’art, obviously expensive, and other artsy–crafty items were also scattered around.
For some reason these surroundings made Fiona Bainbridge seem more like “real people” to Pam, and her eyes held a softness when they finally rested on the small woman who carried such a large impact.
“You like my office?” Fiona asked, unexpectedly.
“Yes!” Pam’s voice held her obvious surprise. “It’s a lot different than the one at Bainbridge Corporation. A lot less like an institution.”
The cackling laugh always overwhelmed Pam a little. Fiona was usually so serious that when she did laugh it was astonishing how her face lit up, and the sound itself was a surprise, too.
“I’ve really got to spend more time with you, Pamela. I like your honesty. You’re not intimidated by me and my millions. Are you intimidated by Reese?”
Pam’s eyes sliced back to the small frame sitting across the desk from her. Why was Fiona asking her something like this? She was suddenly on guard.
“Come, sit and relax.” Fiona directed Pam to a sitting area arranged in front of an extensive fireplace. The plush leather couch seemed to swallow Fiona’s small frame as she settled into it and motioned for Pam to sit on the matching couch across from her. “I need to talk to you. To get to know you better.”
Does this have to do with my worthiness to inherit your millions? Pam wanted to ask.
“I need to be around someone young and full of spunk, like you. Sometimes I think I’m shriveling up into an old prune. Look at us. You look like a fresh, plump grape, and I’m an old, dried out raisin.” Totally out of character, Fiona ran her hand across her wrinkled arm, giving Pam a glance of the real woman sitting before her. A real person, concerned about real things like getting old and wrinkled.
“Ms. Bainbridge—”
“Oh, please, call me Fiona.” She interrupted Pam with a wave of her hand. “Fiona.” Pam felt strange addressing her in such a personal way, but Fiona seemed to want to get personal this morning. “Fiona, don’t talk about yourself like that. You should never think or say negative things about yourself.”
“This isn’t negative, girl, it’s the truth.”
“But you compared yourself with me. You shouldn’t do that.” This was a soapbox Pam was always ready to climb up on.
“Life is so strange,” Fiona continued. “When I was a teenager, back in the ’30s, women your size were considered the beautiful ones. I hated my size. I wanted to be as large as I felt my brain was. I always felt like my full-size brain was stuck in this pint-size body, and that my body hindered my brain from doing the things it was capable of doing. So I guess I overcompensated and became a real bitch, just trying to cover the fact that I’m so small.”
“You may not know it, but a lot of fat people feel the same way on a reversed basis,” Pam said.
“You mean they feel like their body is hindering what their brain wants to do?”
“Exactly,” Pam said. “But my contention is, the brain is who we really are. The body is just the vehicle, and each vehicle is different, and in being different, each vehicle is limited to some extent. For instance, a tall person can’t do some of the things you can do, just like you can’t do some of the things a tall person can do. The same goes for anyone, whether they’re tall, short, skinny, fat, or whatever.”
“Well, that does make sense,” Fiona acknowledged. “I don’t guess I ever thought it through like that.”
“That’s why,” Pam continued, “we should never judge each other by the vehicle, or package if you will, because if all of our brains were taken out and placed on a shelf, there would be no short, tall, fat, or skinny brains. Or for that matter, no different-colored brains. They would all pretty much look the same.”
“Or old ones,” Fiona added.
“That’s right,” Pam agreed, laughing.
“Why didn’t you come into my life before now?” Fiona asked, wistfully. “You could have really helped me see myself in a different light.”
“It’s not too late,” Pam encouraged. “It’s never too late to change the way you think about yourself. Just stop thinking the negative thoughts and replace them with positive ones. And besides that, look at you. You’re a success in life. You own and run a large corporation, you’re filthy rich, and live in a mansion. So many women would switch places with you!”
“But I’m not happy,” Fiona admitted.
“Then get happy,” Pam said.
“What? Just like that? You tell me to get happy?” Fiona looked at Pam as if she’d taken leave of her senses. “I’ve had too many years of unhappiness to just snap my fingers and make it all go away.” A touch of bitterness crept into her voice.
“I know it won’t happen overnight, but happiness is mostly just a state of mind,” Pam insisted. “If the average person put the two of us together, with our life’s situations, they’d think you’d be the happy one because you have everything. But I’m the happy one, even though in comparison to you, I have nothing.”
“Why are you happy?”
“Because I’ve chosen to be. I don’t dwell on the things that make me unhappy. And if something is making me unhappy, I try to change it.”
“Like applying for an old woman’s fortune to help your brother?”
The question took Pam off guard momentarily, but she quickly recovered. “Exactly,” she said without apology.
“What about Reese?” Again, an unexpected question.
“What about him?”
“Does he make you unhappy?”
Pam had no idea where this line of talk would take them, but she’d been totally honest with Fiona up until this point, so why change now? “Your grandson is a jerk. H
e makes me very unhappy, so I stay as far away from him as I can.”
Fiona laughed so hard she went into a coughing attack. When she recovered, she fastened her flashing blue eyes on Pam and said, “If I could have searched the world over, I could never have found a person as perfect for Reese as you are. Most women fall at his feet in adoration, but not you. Oh, yes, this is going to be soooo good.”
“Fiona, what are you talking about?” Pam’s voice was sharp with apprehension.
“Nothing. Look,” she blatantly changed the subject, “I really need to get some work done, even though it’s Saturday. But I’ve thoroughly enjoyed this visit we’ve had. I’m going to think about the things we’ve discussed and see if I can change my outlook on life.”
“Fiona,” Pam started.
“Go. Go find Reese and give him hell.” Fiona dismissed Pam with a wave of her hand as she returned to her desk with an unusually big grin on her face.
Stunned. That’s the only word that could describe Pam’s feelings as she stood outside the closed door to the powerful Fiona Bainbridge’s office. What had just happened in there? Had she really given Fiona advice on life?
“Been in there trying to make some Brownie points?” Reese’s sarcastic question preceded him down the hallway as he made his way toward her.
Pam hadn’t seen him since the night at the office when she’d let her tongue overlap her good judgment and thrown that stupid challenge at him about being attracted to her.
Suddenly she had the urge to run away and not face him this morning. As she was about to turn in the opposite direction, he caught her arm.
“Not so fast. You’re not going anywhere until you hear me out on a few things.”
Reese’s masculine aftershave settled around Pam, enveloping her in an imaginary, sensuous film, making her feel as if she were becoming one with him. An unfamiliar weakness stole over her, taking away the strength she usually possessed.