DANIEL'S GIRL: ROMANCING AN OLDER MAN
Page 14
She remembered how she fell in and out of sleep as they relaxed and listened to the sounds in the silence: to the whip and slush of the lake, to the birds, to the songs of the cicadas. It was a cool Indiana night, but Daniel’s old bomber jacket that Nikki wore, and the tuxedo jacket that Daniel wore, were enough to keep them warm. And relaxed as he held her, and she held onto him.
They hadn’t spoken a word since he picked her up from the hospital, and it took several hours on that terrace before either of them even bothered to say a word.
It started with Nikki. She had awaken from one of her naps to see that Daniel now had a drink in his hand. She looked over at him. He was still in his white tux, and was still looking delicious, she thought. But he looked tired too.
“Why did you come back?” she asked what she had planned to ask him hours ago.
Daniel readjusted her weight on his lap, so that his penis was more between her legs. “I came back to get you,” he replied.
“I thought you were upset with me.”
“I’m always upset with you,” he said, causing Nikki to smile. “So what’s so new about that?”
“Thanks for coming back.”
“I see Mr. Finley stayed for the duration.”
“Yeah, he did. But Luke is like that. He really stands by his reporters. He’s nothing like Joe Paulson was.”
She was smitten, Daniel thought. Not that it was surprising to him. After seeing the man in person himself, Daniel fully understood the attraction. Luke Finley’s good looks alone would have been enough for some women, but he knew that would never be enough for Nikki. It was Luke’s kindness, his loyalty to his staff, his treatment of Nikki that was turning her on.
Luke Finley, based on all the intel Daniel’s people could pull on him, was the kind of man who would play up his attributes. And he was only a couple years older than she was, and had attended the same college? He was, in truth, Daniel’s worse nightmare: a smart, activist, great looking young man who seemed a perfect fit for a smart, great looking young Nikki. Daniel pulled her closer against him.
“I was so shocked to see you in that parking lot,” Nikki said.
“I spoke with your doctor. He told me about what time you were going to be released.”
The fact that the doctor would have told Daniel anything about her personal business didn’t surprise Nikki at all. Wakefield was an incestuous kind of town. Daniel Crane and Dreeson were names that carried a lot of weight. Outsized weight, in Nikki’s opinion.
“So does the fact that you came back to get me mean that you agree that I have a right to protect my source?”
“Since your source broke the law, no,” Daniel said plainly. “I’ll never agree with that.” Then he exhaled. “But I understand where you’re coming from.”
And then he kissed her on the forehead, held her tighter against his body, and soon they both fell asleep on the terrace.
Now she was running late and running frantic. And even after parking on the street in front of the Gazette newspaper building, and running like a mad woman up the stairs and through the entrance doors, she was still nearly two hours late. She dropped her briefcase and keys onto her desk and hurried into Luke’s office, ready to hear his wrath. But he smiled instead.
“Stop being such a worrier, Nikki,” he said. “Sit down.”
“I overslept big time,” she said as she sat in the chair beside his desk. “It was nine o’clock when I woke up. I said damn. Luke is gonna kill me.”
“Was your boyfriend late too?”
“Daniel?” She hesitated. Why would you ask about Daniel?”
“I just thought he would have woke you up.”
Nikki didn’t respond to that.
Luke threw up his hands. “My bad,” he said. “I didn’t mean to be nosy. Of course you don’t live with him. You did say he was a saint, after all. Nice suit.”
She didn’t particularly like Luke’s jabs at Daniel, but she didn’t have the energy to defend it. She, instead, looked down, at her black dress slacks and sleeveless vest, and her red suit coat to top it off, and she looked back up at Luke. “Thanks.”
“Do you make your own clothes?”
Nikki couldn’t help but laugh. “Now that’s funny. No, sir, I do not. I buy my own clothes. What about you? Make your own clothes?”
Luke laughed. “Oh, you’re good. Quick. I like that.”
“Well anyway,” Nikki said as she slowly rose to her feet, “I’d better get to work. Again, I apologize for being late.”
But Luke motioned her to sit back down. “Just sit down and relax, Nikki, come on,” he said. “What’s the rush anyway? I’m the boss, remember? And you just went through a harrowing night thanks to your boss.”
She would hardly call it harrowing, but she got the point. She sat back down. “So what’s up?” she asked.
“Happy two weeks,” he said.
She looked at him oddly. “Happy what?” she asked, certain that she didn’t get it.
“Happy two weeks. This is the end of the second week that I’ve been your boss.” He then pulled a rectangular-shaped, small gift-wrapped box out of his desk drawer and handed it to her. “I had hoped to give you this a few hours ago, but still.”
Nikki was stunned. Was this guy for real? “I can’t accept that.”
“Sure you can. Okay, it’s not really a happy second week gift, all right? It’s more a will you forgive me for putting you in harm’s way gift.”
He said this with such a charming smile that Nikki couldn’t help but smile, too. But she still refused the gift. “I can’t take that,” she said.
“Just look at it, please.”
“There’s no reason.”
“Just look at it. That’s all I’m asking you to do. You don’t have to keep it, just look at it.”
It made little sense to Nikki, but she took the gift from Luke and opened it.
"I just wanted to let you know how grateful I am to have you on my team - and in my life.”
Nikki opened the box and stared at the expensive pen set. And it felt like the story of her life. She would have given a million bucks if Daniel would be as attentive to her as Luke was trying to be. But Daniel, unfortunately, didn’t roll like that. So she was stuck hoping that her fortunes would reverse, and that Daniel would crave her more and Luke would just ease up. She looked at him. “I’m grateful to be on your team too, Luke,” she said, “but I think you need to understand something.”
Luke’s heart began to pound. “I understand,” he said. “Daniel’s your man, I get it. No need to even go there. You’ve got yourself a sugar daddy and you aim to keep him. I get it.”
Nikki was offended. “A sugar daddy? Seriously?”
“Let’s keep it centered in reality, Nikki, that’s all I’m asking. Let’s do that much. That’s what friends do, you know. They keep it real. Daniel Crane is, let’s be honest, your sugar daddy.”
“But that’s ridiculous! He’s nobody’s sugar daddy, okay? Every female in Wakefield would love to have him, are you kidding me? Women would pay to be with him, he doesn’t have to give up any sugar. Trust me on that.”
Luke didn’t expect this kind of spirited defense, especially not after the way he left her at the hospital last night. So he played it off. He smiled. “All right. Damn. I was just kidding around. Don’t take my head off.”
Nikki exhaled. She couldn’t even smile anymore. “I’m sorry. But let’s not play about Daniel, if you don’t mind.”
Luke nodded. Daniel Crane: her weakness. “Okay. I can respect that.”
Nikki stood up. And gave him back his pen set. “But it really was a very thoughtful thing to do. Thanks.”
Luke smiled his gorgeous white smile. “You’re welcome. Now get to work.”
Nikki laughed. “What a two-face!”
“Takes one to know one, baby.”
Nikki shook her head playfully and left Luke’s office.
Luke leaned back in his chair and shook his head, too
. Only he wasn’t playful anymore, but disgusted. Daniel Crane was like a mountain in Nikki’s eyes. A gotdamn Everest. How in hell, Luke wondered, do you knock a mountain down?
He arrived at work early the next day expecting crisis after crisis. That was the nature of his business. He also expected Phillip Grayson to drop by with what would probably amount to hourly updates on the horse race to become CEO of Dreeson. But he didn’t expect to see the woman from the party last night.
But there she was, sitting oh so primly in front of his secretary’s desk, her conservative blue business suit topped off with a nice red scarf around her thin neck. Just enough hint of color, he thought, to bring out even more the beauty of her dark skin.
She stood up when Daniel walked in, and her great smile and large, dark eyes almost necessitated that he would smile too.
“Well, hello there,” he said, remembering her from the mayor’s dinner party, and also remembering how he had to run off to see about Nikki and did not give her a proper goodbye.
“Hello, Mr. Crane,” she said, extending her small, soft hand. “I was hoping you’d remember me.”
“I do indeed,” Daniel said as he placed his hand in hers and shook it. She seemed to give him an extra squeeze, which he immediately released.
“You left so abruptly the last time we met I wasn’t sure if you’d remember.”
“I apologize for that.”
“No need for apologies, none at all. Sometimes it simply can’t be helped.”
He smiled. “That’s very understanding of you.”
“Oh, I don’t know if it’s so much understanding as experience. I’ve been left hanging by the best, sir, so don’t you worry about me.”
Daniel laughed. “Yes ma’am.”
There was a slight pause, as Melanie seemed genuinely pleased. “It’s so good to see you again, Daniel.”
“Same here,” he said, and it was true. “Come on in,” he added, gesturing for her to come into his office with him. Then he looked at Whitney, who was staring at them. “Hold my calls, honey,” he said to her.
“Good morning, Mr. Crane,” she replied.
He smiled. “Good morning, Whitney. How are you, Whitney?”
“Fine. And you?”
“Just fine. Hold my calls.”
“Yes, sir.”
And Daniel, smiling still, escorted his guest into his office.
Whitney watched them as they disappeared behind closed doors, and then she shook her head. He must take her for a fool, she thought. Hold his calls. Yeah, right. Whitney knew what that was about. He was probably in that office letting that chick have it good. She’d be willing to bet her paycheck on it. And poor Nikki, she thought, didn’t have a clue.
Melanie sat in the wingback chair in front of Daniel’s desk and accepted a cup of coffee. She watched him as he stood by the table, pouring her coffee, looking gorgeous even to her in his black business suit and white shirt, everything perfectly tailored to fit his fine body. He was a man invented for women to desire and for men to envy. It was easy to fall into the trap of Daniel Crane’s charm, easy to get swept away by his elegance and good looks and wealth, and Melanie knew it. She knew it all too well. And she had to be careful. She deserved to have Daniel Crane’s head on a platter, stewed if possible, and she had appointed herself to deliver it.
But watching him operate, so smooth and experienced, made her less confident; made her ever aware of the fact that she was about to scrimmage with a master.
“Here you are,” Daniel said as he handed her the coffee and then leaned against the front edge of his large desk.
She accepted the cup graciously, thanking him in an almost whisper.
When he stretched his long legs out and crossed them at the ankle, she waited until she had his undivided attention. Then she, too, crossed her legs. Only her skirt was purposely short enough to inspire serious interest, but not so short as to cultivate lust. Lust would come later.
“There’s nothing like a good cup of coffee in the morning,” she said as she sipped.
“Yes,” he said, folding his arm and sipping from his cup too, watching the beautiful curves of her long, shapely brown legs going up into a skirt hem barely covering her undoubtedly warm inner sanctum. He loved it when Nikki wore her skirts short - although, to his disappointment, she rarely wore skirts. “So,” he said, putting his coffee cup down on his desk, “of what do I owe the pleasure of your visit this morning?”
“I’ve decided to accept your offer, sir.”
Daniel hesitated. “My offer?”
“Yes. Oh my. You’ve forgotten.”
“No, I just . . . don’t remember.” Daniel said this with a smile. Melanie smiled too.
“At the mayor’s party you seemed to intimate that there was possibly a job for me here. You said you could use a good executive assistant.”
“Oh. Yes. I remember that.” Actually, he realized, it wasn’t exactly a job offer. She was welcome to apply, was what he remembered saying. “I thought you were weighing your options,” he now said.
“I was. And I did. But your offer seems to be the kind I can’t resist. Don’t ask me why. It just does.”
Daniel nodded. “Okay. Good.”
Melanie reached into her briefcase and pulled out a thick manila folder. “I have my resume and my references all here.” She said this as she handed the folder to Daniel. “I also included information on awards that I’ve received and articles I’ve written, in business journals and other germane periodicals, just to give you some idea of just who this person really is.”
Daniel accepted the papers without opening the folder. He sat them down on his desk. “I’ll have my people down at human resources take a look at it.”
“All right. Okay. Understood. But this is the deal. Am I wrong to be hopeful?”
“Hard for me to reach that conclusion. If the background check turns up all right, and your qualifications are as impeccable as you have indicated, then I’ll have one of my senior staff interview you. If that goes well, I don’t see why we can’t work something out.”
Melanie smiled, although she was disappointed that he wasn’t so taken with her beauty that he couldn’t cut through the red tape. Not that she was worried. She was careful. The background check, she was certain, would not pose a problem whatsoever. “Wonderful,” she said. “I was worried there for a minute.”
“Worried? Why?”
“We haven’t spoken since last night. In this fast paced, social media world, I wasn’t sure if you’d even remember me.”
He laughed. “I hear you.”
She laughed too, and took her slender finger and slid it slowly along the under part of her skirt hem. That was an old trick she learned from an old slut. Daniel unbuttoned his suit coat.
“Hopefully I’ve put your worries to rest,” he said.
“You have. Oh, have you. Thank-you so much, Mr. Crane.”
“Although,” he said, “I have a confession to make.”
Melanie, determined that this meeting had to go off without a hitch, looked at him nervously. “My worries have returned,” she said. “What is it?”
“It’s true that I remember you, I don’t think I could ever forget a person quite like you. But I don’t think I remember your name.”
Melanie leaned her head back, revealing a line-free, thin neck, and laughed as she ran her fingers through her long, silky-straight hair. “Oh my goodness. You don’t remember my name?”
Daniel smiled too. “I’m afraid I don’t.”
“Guess.”
Daniel hesitated, looked into her big, brown eyes. “Lola?” he asked.
She laughed. “No. Wrong. Very wrong. Melanie.”
“Okay. Yes. Melanie. That’s right.”
“Melanie what?”
Daniel shook his head. “I can open up this folder and look if you wish, because if I didn’t remember your first name, I for darn sure don’t remember your last name.”
“Chandler. Melanie Chand
ler. A name I hope you will never forget again. Just think about Arthur Chandler.”
“Arthur Chandler? You’ve heard of Artie Chandler? You’ve heard of one of the least known of the great jazz musicians?”
“I have. He made one recording and refused to step foot in a studio again.”
“That’s right. Melody for Meloni. My goodness. I thought I was just about the only human being alive who appreciated Art Chandler. Unless there’s more to it than that. Unless he’s related to you in some fashion.”
Melanie laughed. “Oh, goodness no. I wish. I just love his work. And the coincidence of him using Meloni in his song, although it’s spelled differently than my name. Whenever I’m in New York I’ll go by and check out his set.”
“He’s still preforming in the Village?”
“Yep. Still there. And record producers are still hounding him about signing a contract. But he’s not about to do that.”
“Good for him. And good for you. Keep supporting the brother.”
“I will. I sometimes think that’s my calling.”
“What’s that?” Daniel asked.
“Supporting brothers,” Melanie said with a smile and Daniel, unable to resist the pure magnetism of her charm, and how easily it was to talk to her, smiled too.
Whitney smiled when Nikki walked into her office. Of all of the girlfriends Daniel Crane had had down through the years, and he’d had many, she liked Nikki the best.
“Hello, Miss Graham,” she said, trying to be formal in keeping with the boss’s wishes, who never asked her to get Nikki on the line, but Miss Graham. Always Miss Graham. But Nikki, she also knew, wasn’t down like that.
“Child, please,” Nikki said as she walked in. “You better call me Nikki. Or Nikki. Or Nick or something. But never Miss Graham.”
“I know what you’re saying. But you know how Mr. Crane can be.”
“I know. Trust me, I know. Although he doesn’t hesitate to call you Whitney.”
Whitney laughed her throaty laugh. She was a slender thirty-something with small eyes and long, red hair. “You are something else, girl,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “So how have you been keeping yourself?”