by Cat Schield
Maybe if she’d been more positive during the second in vitro try. Kept her hopes up. Spent her days and nights visualizing a baby in her arms rather than bracing herself for disappointment. Maybe then things would have turned out better.
If her sister could hear her thoughts, she’d agree. Stephanie had been an advocate for positive thinking since she was a freshman in high school. Top of her class. Head cheerleader. Captain of the women’s volleyball team the year they won state. Whatever Stephanie visualized, she made happen.
And what would her sister say about Elizabeth’s pity party for one? Stephanie would tell her to pull out a piece of paper and write her goal at the top, then list all the things she could do to move forward.
Elizabeth settled her purse in a drawer and hung up her coat. Flopping into her desk chair, she set a yellow legal pad in front of her and wrote Motherhood at the top. Below that she doodled dollar signs.
How to afford more in vitro treatments? Save money until she could afford to try again. Economizing wasn’t the answer. She already lived in the smallest apartment she could stand, a tiny studio in Chelsea with a view of the neighboring building’s wall. What she needed to do was increase her income. And the fastest way to do that? Demand that Josie make her a partner. She was already bringing in more money than all of Josie’s other planners combined. It was time she reaped some of the benefits of all her hard work.
Feeling more determined than when she’d left her apartment an hour ago, Elizabeth headed for her boss’s office. With each step she took, she gained confidence in her plan.
It was the perfect opportunity to make her pitch. Last night’s party had been a huge success. She’d made a dozen contacts and fielded interest from at least eight people who wanted her to help with their holiday parties. Her career was about to go from fast track to supersonic.
“Josie, do you have a second?”
The fifty-eight-year-old head of Josie Summers’s Event Planning sat like a queen on a cream damask sofa in her enormous corner office. A silver tray with an elegant coffeepot sat on the low table before her. On the round table that stood halfway between the door and her boss’s ornate cherry desk was a vase overflowing with the most gorgeous long-stemmed red roses Elizabeth had ever seen. Things must be going better between Josie and her boyfriend of twelve years.
Her boss waved Elizabeth in. “Darling, we’re a triumph.”
“Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves,” Elizabeth said. “The auction raised three million for children’s cancer research.” She sat beside Josie and accepted the cup of coffee her boss handed her. “Kendra called me this morning and said her boss was pleased with our handling of the event.”
Even though Josie hadn’t been involved with any aspect of the planning, she claimed credit for every success.
“Well, I should say so.” Josie crossed her legs and leaned forward to pour coffee into a second china cup. She sipped and eyed Elizabeth over the rim. “Josie Summers’s Event Planning offers nothing but sublime perfection.”
“Absolutely.” Having her boss take credit for her successes didn’t sit well with Elizabeth, but she needed her job and wanted to keep it.
Until coming to work for Josie, she’d never been one to tout her accomplishments. She’d always done her best without expecting anyone to praise her. But it hadn’t taken more than six months in the cutthroat world of event planning for her to realize that if she wanted to get ahead, she not only needed to be the best, she had to make sure everyone knew it.
“I’ve already received a half dozen calls this morning about upcoming events thanks to the work we did last night.” The diamonds in Josie’s ears winked. “Josie Summers’s Event Planning is the best in New York. It’s about time everyone recognized that.”
Thanks to all Elizabeth’s hard work. She forced a smile. “That’s great. And part of what I wanted to talk to you about this morning…”
“Oh, and those came for you.” Josie indicated the roses. “They were delivered to me by mistake.”
Elizabeth regarded the extravagant bouquet. She felt oddly light-headed. It was the sort of thing a man sent the woman he loved. “For me?”
Josie picked up a small white card and handed it to Elizabeth. “Another admirer, from the looks of it.”
Stifling her resentment that her boss had already read the card, Elizabeth slid it out of the envelope and stared at the bold script.
I have a proposal I’d like to discuss with you. RB
She had no trouble imagining the sort of proposal Roark Black had in mind. Proposition was more like it. Remembering the way his gaze had slipped over her last night, heat rushed into her cheeks. Conscious of her boss’s avid curiosity, she mastered her expression and held very still. Difficult when she wanted to run from the room and the implications of that message. But fleeing would do her no good when the danger lay inside her. The searing curiosity about the enigmatic treasure hunter. What would it be like to have those mobile lips capture hers? His hands gliding over her skin as if she was a priceless artifact he’d been searching for all his life?
“Elizabeth?”
“Hmm?”
Josie’s voice held amusement. “Who is RB?”
She dug her nails into her palm to disperse the sensual fog that she’d gotten lost in. Lying would do her no good. Josie’s curiosity was fully engaged. She would dig until she was satisfied she knew everything that was going on with Elizabeth.
“Roark Black.”
“Really?” Interest flared in Josie’s brown eyes. “I didn’t realize you knew him.”
“He was at the wine auction last night.” Elizabeth could see her boss jump to the wrong conclusion. “He was impressed with the work I’d done for the party. Perhaps he wants to hire me.”
“This is a first,” Josie purred, her opinion about the true reason for the bouquet already formed. “I’ve never seen two dozen red roses accompany a job offer before.”
“Mr. Black is a unique individual.”
“With unique tastes, I imagine.”
Elizabeth responded with a tight smile. “I’d better go give him a call.” She stood, eager to escape her boss’s keen gaze. She was halfway to the door when Josie stopped her.
“Don’t forget your roses.”
“Silly me,” Elizabeth said, her teeth gritted together.
“And let me know what he has in mind. This is the opening I’ve been waiting for. A chance to move Josie Summers’s Event Planning into a whole new level. Event planner to the rich and famous.”
“Thanks to me,” Elizabeth muttered into the sumptuous roses.
It wasn’t until she returned to her office that she realized Roark Black’s proposal had distracted her from her plan to ask Josie about making her a partner. How much longer was she going to build Josie’s business without getting the rewards she deserved?
Setting the roses on her desk, Elizabeth perched on one of her guest chairs and dialed the number on the back of Roark’s card.
“Hello, Elizabeth.”
His deep voice, rich with amusement, sent a tingle up her spine. With two words he’d sparked a chain reaction inside her. She flopped back in the chair and closed her eyes to better concentrate on his seductive voice.
“Hello, Mr. Black,” she responded, her tone less professional than she wanted. “Thank you for the roses.”
“Roark,” he corrected, his tone somewhere between a command and a request. “I’m glad you like them.”
She hadn’t said that. “They’re beautiful.”
“Beautiful roses for a beautiful lady.”
His smooth compliments were having a detrimental effect on her professionalism. Flutters attacked her stomach. Warmth flooded her as delight scampered along her nerve endings. Her body appeared to have a mind of its own, wanting to curl up in the chair and cradle the phone like some smitten teenager.
“The card mentioned you had a job for me?”
“A proposal,” he corrected, caressing the word.
“What sort of proposal?”
“I’d like to discuss it in person.”
And she’d prefer to arrange everything over the phone so his enticing sex appeal wouldn’t prove her undoing. “Would you like to come to my office this afternoon?”
“I was thinking perhaps you could meet me at my apartment. Say in an hour?”
“Your apartment…” She trailed off, at a loss for words since she didn’t dare accuse him of hitting on her when she wasn’t completely sure what was going on.
“Don’t you visit a client’s apartment when you’re planning a party for them?”
“You want me to plan a party?” Her relief came through loud and clear.
“Of course.” He sounded amused. “What did you think I wanted?”
The arrogance of the man.
Elizabeth fumed for about five seconds and then reminded herself that this was business and she was a businesswoman. She’d worked with demanding clients before. Just because Roark Black was sinfully handsome and dangerously exciting was no reason to let her baser instincts get the better of her. He was a client. Nothing more.
“An hour and a half,” she countered, feeling ridiculous the second the words were out of her mouth. It was silly to try to play power games with this man when all he had to do was hit her with his crooked grin and every sensible thought fled her mind.
“I’ll text you my address.”
At one minute to ten, she stood outside Roark’s loft in Soho. She recognized her nerves had gotten the better of her when she’d gone home to change into a sweater dress in a silvery blue. She loved the color. It intensified the gold tones of her hair and drew out the flecks of cobalt in her eyes. But most important, the outfit gave her confidence.
Briefcase clutched before her, weight on the balls of her feet, she awaited the appearance of the first man in a year who’d imperiled her no-bad-boys edict. Pulse hammering, she dredged up every hurt and disappointment caused by the men she’d chosen over the years. Remembering past injuries took the edge off her unwelcome excitement at seeing Roark again.
And then, the door opened, revealing him in all his male splendor. He was dressed casually in worn denim and a long-sleeved gray shirt that intensified the smoky tones in his eyes.
“Elizabeth.” Her name sighed out of him like a lover’s exhalation. “You are even more beautiful than I remembered.”
Crap. Her heart fluttered like some idiotic debutant at her first cotillion.
“And you are more charming than ever.” Her voice snapped like a whip, snatching the compliment right out of the words.
He grinned at her, unfazed by her tartness. “Come in.”
The loft was as incredible as she’d expected. Sixteen-foot ceilings, enormous arched windows, exposed brick everywhere she looked. Wood floors gleamed beneath couches slip-covered in white. The living space was so huge he was able to have three separate sitting areas. One flanked the stone fireplace at the far end. One clustered in front of the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves near an opening that she guessed led to the bedrooms. A third near the open kitchen with its dark granite countertops and stainless-steel appliances.
“This is nice,” Elizabeth murmured, reflecting on the shoebox she lived in. “Perfect for entertaining. How many people are you inviting?”
“I was thinking about a hundred or so.”
Elizabeth pulled out an electronic tablet and began jotting notes. “Did you have a date picked out?”
“I was thinking next Saturday.”
“That is short notice.”
Mentally running through her bookings, she keyed up her schedule, already knowing she had the Hendersons’ tenth wedding anniversary on that evening. The arrangements were all made. It was the sort of party Brenda could handle on her own.
“I’m happy to compensate you for any inconvenience it might cause.”
Elizabeth offered him a bright smile as she mentally calculated her commission. “What sort of party did you have in mind?”
“It’s an engagement party.”
“How nice.” And how surprising. She’d never pictured Roark Black hosting something like that. The man had commitment issues written all over him. “Who’s the lucky couple?”
“We are.”
* * *
Incomprehension fogged her indigo-blue eyes as she looked up at him. “We are what?”
“The happy engaged couple I’m throwing the party for.”
Her crisp professionalism wrinkled beneath the weight of her confusion. “We’re not engaged.”
“Not yet.”
The expression in her eyes went from shell-shocked to resolute. “Not ever.”
“I’m crushed.” He shouldn’t enjoy teasing her so much, but it seemed the only way to get past her guards and reach the woman behind the event planner.
“I doubt it.” She’d recovered her equilibrium and now regarded him with open skepticism. “Perhaps you should explain what’s going on.”
“Last night you jumped all over me about how I was going to be the downfall of Waverly’s.”
“I merely suggested you might be a contributing factor.”
“You weren’t the only one thinking that way.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Not surprising. But what does that have to do with why I’m here?”
“A certain member of the Waverly’s board mentioned that he’s been approached by Dalton Rothschild about selling his shares and has been asked to persuade others on the board to follow suit. He doesn’t want Rothschild to take over Waverly’s, but needs a good reason to continue to support the current leadership at Waverly’s.”
She nodded, but remained silent while her steady gaze encouraged him to proceed.
“He thinks that leadership needs to include me, but recent events have raised questions about my activities. He indicated if I could demonstrate that I’m leaving behind my proclivity for trouble, the board would feel more confident about the stability of Waverly’s.”
“And you think an engagement will make you more respectable.”
“It was suggested a stable personal life would inspire confidence in my upstanding behavior.”
“Why me?”
While his address book was bursting with women who would jump at the chance to play his fiancée, Elizabeth was unaffected by his money or his charm. She intrigued him.
“After last night’s passionate denouncement of me and your concern for the future of Waverly’s, I thought you would be the perfect choice for a pretend engagement.”
His last two words caused a profound reaction. Her muscles relaxed and she almost smiled. “Find someone else.”
“I’ve already decided on you.”
“Surely there are more suitable women in the circles you frequent that would be happy to perpetrate this ruse with you.”
“None more suitable than you.” And he meant it.
The concern she’d shown for Waverly’s had inspired him to make her his co-conspirator in his scheme to improve his image. And the active dislike she was struggling so hard to maintain intrigued him. Winning her over presented an enchanting challenge. And if he was going to be stuck in New York for the uncertain future, he would need something exciting to occupy himself. Elizabeth Minerva fit the bill.
“Does it strike you at all counterproductive that you’re trying to inspire confidence in your upstanding behavior by presenting a fake fiancée to your friends and family?”
“See, this is why I need you. Not one other woman I know dives straight to the heart of my shortcomings the way you do.”
Her full lips twitched. “And somehow you perceive this as a good thing?”
Despite her skepticism, Elizabeth hadn’t slammed the door on his proposition. Or at least, she hadn’t stormed out of his loft and put an end to the conversation. If he could keep her around for a few more minutes, he knew he could convince her how much he needed her help.
“Last night you were right. Waverly’s is in trouble. Dal
ton Rothschild is after the board members to sell. I’m in a perfect position to stop him.” He hit her with all the seriousness in his arsenal. “And you are in a perfect position to help me do so. Think of what will happen to all the employees who’ve been with Waverly’s for years. If Rothschild takes over, what do you think he’s going to do with them?”
“You aren’t playing fair.” Her gaze skidded away from his.
At that moment, he knew he had her. “We’ll make this a business arrangement. Consider it a contract job. Six months and you’re free of me. In the meantime, think of all the contacts you’ll make as my fiancée. Manhattan’s elite will be vying to have you as their event planner.”
“A business arrangement,” she echoed, eyes narrowing as she searched his expression. “Nothing more?”
“Well, of course there will be public appearances and equally public displays of affection.”
She chewed on her lower lip, attention fixed on the far side of the room where floating shelves housed some of the less valuable artifacts he’d brought back from around the world.
“But just public displays of affection. Don’t expect to reap any benefits of our engagement in private.”
Keeping her in the dark about all his intentions was completely necessary if he hoped to secure her agreement. There would be plenty of time later to demonstrate all the ways their arrangement could be mutually beneficial.
“I promise not to do anything you don’t want me to.”
Her brows came together. “That didn’t answer my question.”
“I assure you, anytime I’m involved in a relationship it’s the women who have expectations, not me.”
“No wonder people find you untrustworthy.” Elizabeth shook her head. “You couldn’t give a straight answer if your life depended on it.”
“And I assure you, from time to time, it has.”
“Let me be blunt. I’m not going to sleep with you.”
“Who said anything about sleeping.” He knew he should stop teasing her, but she was so damned adorable when she got riled up.
“If you think I’m some sort of weak-minded bimbo who will tumble into your bed at the first snap of your fingers, you’ve picked the wrong girl.”