Sweet Temptations Collection

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Sweet Temptations Collection Page 29

by Brant, Marilyn


  “To Cait Walsh,” Loni said. “Hip, hip…”

  “Hurray!” Jenna and Marlene cried.

  Cait grinned, glad she was able to make them all so happy, but unable to tell them the real reason she’d pulled it off. Garrett had sworn her to secrecy.

  “Thanks, ladies,” she said. “It seems the financial director was not as unreasonable as we’d all thought.”

  “Good thing,” Marlene deadpanned, “or we’d have had to kill him.”

  Loni slapped her knee and laughed, but Jenna didn’t take her eyes off Cait. She seemed to be waiting for something. A sign of some kind, maybe. Cait smiled at her and turned her attention back to the chapter books she was sorting.

  “You know, Cait,” Jenna said, speaking up at last. “Maybe the guy likes you. Maybe that’s why he changed his mind. Why he was so reasonable.”

  “Oh, I don’t think—” she began.

  “Oh, but I do.” Jenna grinned. “He’s hot.”

  “Shush, Mrs. Murray,” Marlene said. “You’re married.”

  “And so are you,” Jenna told Marlene. “Doesn’t mean we aren’t allowed to notice these things.” She focused her gaze on Cait. “I think you should ask him out.”

  Loni, the oldest teacher in their group, gasped and looked at Jenna as if she’d suggested hosting a rattlesnake exhibition. “That’s insane. Sure, the man’s handsome, but teachers shouldn’t date their administrators.”

  “Teachers shouldn’t date their bosses,” Jenna corrected. “But Garrett isn’t her boss. It’s not against the law, or even school policy, for them to go out. What do you think, Cait?”

  Cait glanced at her friend. The woman probably wore that saucy expression in her sleep. It was just Jenna’s nature. “Save your matchmaking skills for someone worth using them on,” she told the dark-haired teacher. “I’m not the best candidate.”

  “It’s been a year now, Cait. You’re young. And the Fredric thing is long past. It’s time to try again.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Jenna grinned at her but wisely let the subject drop…until Marlene and Loni left the room ten minutes later.

  “Okay, girlfriend,” Jenna said, firmly shutting the classroom door. “No more censored small talk from you. Gimme the real story about you and the financial director, and gimme it now.”

  “There’s no story to—”

  “Cut the bull.” Her eyes bored right through Cait’s attempt at a stony façade. “He kissed you, didn’t he?”

  “How did you—”

  “When will you learn? I’m all knowing,” her friend said with a laugh. “I’m the mother of four. I know how to read faces.”

  Cait knew it was futile to withhold information now. She threw her hands up and filled Jenna in on the Labor Day luncheon and the romantic highlights, careful to leave out Garrett’s reason for being hired and downplaying his family’s background.

  “We kept running into each other and butting heads,” she explained. “Then my mom and brother got involved and I met his sister… It’s one of those cases of people being thrown together too much, or something, but it’s not like there’s anything between us. We’re not a couple. We’re just two people trying to figure out how to make the festival work. On a limited budget,” she added, since restricted funding was the reason she gave for Garrett having canceled the Hoopla originally.

  “Yeah, and I’m a royal princess from the House of Windsor,” Jenna said. “But, hey, if you say that’s your intention, I’ll take your word for it.” She winked. “But I wonder, is that really his?”

  Cait shrugged and tried to be honest where she could. Jenna had a way of hitting too close to home.

  “I don’t know,” Cait admitted. “Garrett’s different than I first thought. He’s smarter. Funnier. Kinder. But I don’t know what he’s looking for. And if it’s only going to be another short-term thing, something to keep him busy until his need for social parity kicks in, I’d rather skip it.”

  “Cait, Fredric didn’t leave you because you weren’t up to his social level, and you know it.”

  “But Paige was from—”

  “Paige was the high school girl that got away. Yes, she was from an upper-crusty family, but the real reason Fredric went back to her was because he was a social-climbing scumbag who wanted quick money and an easy life. You were too good for him, and as for Garrett, you’re better than anyone he could dredge up from Connecticut…or from any other state for that matter.”

  “That’s nice of you to say.”

  “It’s not nice, it’s true. God, I wish you’d have punched out that Aussie bastard when you had the chance. If I’d have been standing next to you—”

  “I know, I know, Jenna. You’d have left-hooked Fredric right there at the Qantas gate.”

  “Exactly. And a broken nose might’ve jostled that idiotic brain of his into a few moments of reflective thinking.”

  Cait picked at her thumbnail and paused before speaking. “I wouldn’t want him back, you know.”

  “I know.”

  “But I miss some of the memories.”

  “I know that, too,” Jenna said, reaching out and giving Cait’s arm a gentle squeeze. “Which ones most?”

  She swallowed. “Ah, a few romantic things here and there. Having someone to cuddle with and talk to. The poetry maybe. He could quote Wordsworth.” She grinned at her sympathetic friend. “Mostly the ice cream we ate on our walks.”

  Jenna giggled. “Well, from what you’ve told me, Garrett’s also an ice cream lover.”

  “That he is. I’m already getting sentimental about the Ice Kreamations we’ve shared.”

  “They’re the best, aren’t they?” Jenna sighed, her lashes fluttering dreamily. “The Volcanic Mocha Explosion is orgasmic.”

  Cait laughed out loud. “I guess I’ll have to add that one to my list of new flavors to try.”

  “Don’t miss it. Mr. Koolemar’s originality is unsurpassed.”

  Cait couldn’t help but wonder, were she to be alone again with Garrett, if his originality would be equally inspiring.

  ***

  “Can I have a bunch of fliers to take home, Miss Walsh?” Miranda asked later in the day. “I’ll put ‘em up in good spots.”

  Cait smiled at the tall girl with adorably frizzy long brown hair. “Of course. My friend sent plenty.”

  Massive understatement. Marianne’s FedEx package arrived at the school that morning and must’ve contained five hundred brightly colored posters announcing the Harvest Hoopla and all the pertinent details of the event. She also sent a beautiful autumnal centerpiece for the classroom. Cait opened the package in class and hung one of the posters on the bulletin board for her students. They screeched with delight.

  “Can I take some, too?” Jeremy shouted out, then belatedly raised his hand, his freckled face looking hopeful.

  This spurred a chorus of “Me, too”s and “I want some”s.

  “Class. Class. Everybody please take your seats,” Cait said, raising her voice only slightly. “As I just told Miranda, we have more than enough fliers. Everyone may take home a stack. Just be patient, please, while I pass them out.”

  After a mad dash to equitably distribute the fliers before the children left to music, Cait collapsed at her desk. But she only allowed herself a few seconds. There was no such thing as “rest” in a busy teacher’s day. She grabbed the blueberry muffin she didn’t have time to eat at lunch and bundled up the pages she had to Xerox during this prep period. She raced to the copy room.

  Alone for a few brief moments, she alternated nibbling on her muffin with pressing buttons. Her breath caught as she remembered Garrett’s reference to blueberries, and she felt her face turn hot. She was glad the copy machine was the only witness.

  She finished eating, reached for the math sheet she planned to assign for homework that night and gave her watch a quick check. Nine minutes until she needed to pick up her class from music. She fiddled with the colored paper drawer
and set her teaching master on top of the glass plate.

  A sniff tickled the back of her neck. She swiveled around, eyes wide, her hands flying automatically upward.

  “Kinda jumpy today, aren’t you, Cait?” Garrett said, paying no attention to personal-space conventions as he leaned in and gently shoved her out of the line of sight from the hallway. He closed the copy room door.

  With the Xerox machine taking up half the space and boxes of unopened paper stacked on the floor, there was no room to stand. She couldn’t maneuver. Her gaze darted to the door then to Garrett’s grinning face.

  “What are you doing?” she said. “Someone could come in.”

  He wet his lips, bent down and, with the gentlest flick of his tongue, he licked her bottom lip, igniting flames in her mouth as he traveled from one corner to the other. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t speak. But she felt herself drawn back into him. It was as if the intervening twenty-four hours hadn’t happened, and they were at his condo once again…on that black leather sofa, arms around each other, bodies entwined.

  She’d been avoiding him today, but those lonely hours were irrelevant and forgotten when he brought his whole mouth onto hers. She was certain the second hand of her wristwatch stopped ticking until Garrett finished kissing her.

  He pulled away and she immediately missed him.

  “I got a lead,” he whispered. “Sonja mentioned in passing that Shelley and Ronald are meeting tonight. I thought maybe we could observe them. See where they go and what they do.”

  “You mean spy?”

  “Well, I like to think of it more as ‘information gathering.’ It’s part of my job.” He wrinkled his nose. “Yep, spy, I guess.”

  She laughed. “What upstanding, moral citizens we are.”

  “Want to come with me at five o’clock?”

  She bit her lip, considering. What if they got caught? “O-okay,” she found herself saying anyway.

  Garrett squinted at her. “You sure? It’s all right if you don’t want to. I can tail ’em myself,” he said, in a voice reminiscent of a character on NCIS: Los Angeles. She couldn’t help but laugh again.

  “No, I’ll go. I want to.” Which was foolishly true.

  He ran his finger down her forearm. Her mirth turned to shivering and then to a delicious burning as the sensation set in.

  “Good. Catch ya later, doll.” In an instant he was gone.

  She didn’t move for a precious minute. She closed her eyes, breathed. These fantasies must stop, she told herself severely.

  Cait opened her eyes and pushed the green copy button, trying to push away her desires for Garrett Ellis at the same time.

  ***

  A red Beemer wasn’t the best choice for traveling incognito, Garrett decided as they pulled out of the school parking lot a few minutes before five. He eyed Ronald’s ugly beige Seville and thanked heaven that the principal didn’t seem too observant.

  “Who the hell drives Cadillacs anymore anyway?” he said to Cait, wincing at the way Ronald handled his vehicle. “Did you see that wide turn? You’d think the guy was steering a semi.”

  She laughed. “Not everyone can afford a fancy sports car. And not everyone who buys one knows how to drive theirs like you do.” She gave him a gliding, head-to-toe once-over. “You’re just too cool for words, aren’t you? Spiffy car. Tailored clothes. Hotshot attitude.” She sniffed the air. “Delectable cologne.”

  He shot her his most irresistible grin and leaned in her direction, hoping to tempt her into a kiss. “Like it, do you?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” She blushed and looked out the window, ignoring his silent offer. He snaked his hand onto her lap to squeeze her fingers. She squeezed back then said, “Keep your concentration on road, Cary Grant.”

  Now he laughed. Yeah, if only he were so smooth. Maybe then he wouldn’t be spending the night alone.

  But, okay, he’d admit it. He liked to think of himself as moderately debonair. Her words, however, held a hint of censure in them despite the cologne compliment. She might admire his looks, but she wasn’t a woman impressed by extravagant purchases, designer labels or swanky digs. It would take qualities of more substance to win her over, and he didn’t have a lot of experience with that kind of lady.

  He focused on the road, keeping a respectable distance from Ronald’s tank of a car. So far, tailing him proved easy.

  “Where do you think he’s meeting Shelley?” Cait asked. “Any educated guesses?”

  “You looking for fill-in-the-blank, true-or-false or a five-hundred-word essay?”

  “None of the above. Think multiple choice.”

  “Okey-dokey.” He ran through a mental list of options. “(A) Secret School Board Meeting at Posh Restaurant, (B) Steamy Lovers’ Rendezvous at Sleazy Motel, (C) Pastry-Eating Contest at French Bakery or (D) Wild-n-Wacky Martini Happy Hour at Hot Local Bar.”

  Just then the Seville turned into the entrance of the Four Gates Country Club. He heard Cait gasp next to him.

  “Oooh,” she said, eyeing the Members Only sign and the subsequent list of entry restrictions. “How about (E) Lack of Connections and/or Insufficient Funds to Determine Answer?”

  He nodded. This might be tougher than he’d anticipated.

  “Gotta admit,” he said, “I hadn’t expected them to be going to an aerobics class. But the explanation is probably simpler than we think. Ronald and Shelley must be meeting Mike Firenzi here for dinner. I gather they’ve got some kind of healthy-gourmet café inside.”

  “For people who like their tofu with a side of caviar?”

  “Exactly.” He surveyed the lot. True to its name, the Four Gates Country Club had four separate entrances, each manned by a guard in a box next to an electrically controlled steel gate.

  Ronald’s car pulled through one entrance and, after waiting for another vehicle to pass through, Garrett drove up.

  “Good evening, sir. What’s the purpose of your visit tonight?” said a pompous-looking college kid in a tux.

  Putting on his best prep-school voice, Garrett tossed him a smooth lie, “We’re considering membership at the Club and wished to see the facility.” He gave Cait a quick look and she added a convincing nod.

  “Very good, sir, ma’am. Do you have a tour invitation from Mr. Firenzi or, perhaps, a visitor’s pass for the evening?”

  “I work closely with Mike Firenzi,” Garrett said, purposely cryptic. “The Club came highly recommended.”

  The boy gave him a tight smile. “Mike Firenzi doesn’t usually forget his father’s request to hand out advanced passes, but fortunately the elder gentleman is in tonight. I’ll alert him to your arrival, Mr.—?”

  “Ellis. Garrett Ellis.”

  “One moment please.” The kid looked like he was auditioning for a part in a spy flick, whispering into the phone with covert precision, protecting the free world from danger.

  Cait nudged him and he saw the principal descend from the Seville and vanish into the entrance. Dammit, kid. Hurry up.

  “You may park in the lot to your right, Mr. Ellis. The Club’s owner, Anthony Firenzi, will meet you both in the lobby. Please wait for him there.”

  He gave the kid a curt nod, tapping a finger on the steering wheel while the Boy In Black took a lifetime lifting the gate.

  Finally parked, Garrett turned toward Cait. “Look, we’ve got to move fast on this. I think we should split up and try to get information where we can.” He paused. “Plus, it probably wouldn’t be good for us to be seen together snooping.”

  She nodded and slid out of the car. “Okay. If I’m detained somehow, you’ll be on your own. And vice versa.”

  He leaped out of his side at the same time. “But wait—how will you get home if we’re separated?”

  She pointed an index finger at the cabs lined up near the side entrance. “I’ll be fine.”

  He winked at her, and they began racing toward the glass front doors, only to see Shelley McAllister inside the lobby, her arm around Ronald. She
was leading him toward the private members entrance that signaled “Spa and Fitness” to the left and “Dining Room” to the right.

  “I’ll go in first,” he told her.

  “Fine. I’ll head through the service entrance on the side and see if I can spot them in a bit.” She granted him a dazzling smile that sent his pulse skyrocketing. “Good luck, Garrett.”

  “You, too.”

  Garrett tailed the board member and principal through the center of the lobby and into the hallway where a member’s pass was required for admittance at a door about ten yards away. Shelley sashayed down the hall, Ronald waddling by her side. She held up a plastic card for the computer eye to scan. It beeped, the heavy door swung open and they both walked through.

  Garrett took two steps in their direction, hoping to grab the door before it locked shut, when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

  “Mr. Ellis?”

  Garrett turned to the voice. “Um…yes?”

  A white-haired, stern-looking gentleman held out his hand, flanked by a bald younger guy with a glossy green folder, a clipboard and a Membership Staff nametag.

  “I’m Anthony Firenzi,” the elderly man said as Garrett clasped the roughened skin. “I hear you know my son.”

  Damn. Thwarted in under a minute. “Yes, indeed, sir,” he said with a final regretful glance at the swinging door.

  “Where’s your wife?”

  “My what?”

  “The woman accompanying you in the car? My young man at the gate said to expect two visitors.”

  “Oh…my friend. She dropped me off and…left.” Wife? Sure, he liked Cait but… He let that thought go for now. He prayed she’d stay out of sight or, better yet, take a cab home.

  Anthony Firenzi grinned. “So you have some time to devote to this tour then?”

  Garrett acknowledged his defeat silently before pasting on an enthusiastic smile. “That’s right, sir. I do, and thank you for meeting with me on such short notice. I’ve been looking forward to seeing the Four Gates Country Club for some time.”

 

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