“How thoughtful of you to want to brighten my day. I’m certain it’s the first unselfish thought you’ve had all week.”
If Adam and Lara had established an immediate rapport, Bryce and Lara had negotiated an even quicker hostility. Adam didn’t know why his brother delighted in goading her, or why Lara didn’t just ignore his jibes, but he did and she didn’t, and Adam refused to play the peacemaker. “What do you need now, Bryce?” he asked.
“I need a phone number,” Bryce said, his tone taking on a confrontational note. “Katie’s phone number. You whisked her off so fast last night I didn’t get the chance to get it.”
“I don’t have it,” Adam lied. “Try the phone directory.”
“Not listed.”
He was happy to hear that. “Sorry to hear that,” he said.
“Okay, if that’s the way you feel about it, I’ll just wrangle it out of Nell.”
Lara smiled, the light of battle in her eyes. “You’re stranded at the Vineyard and trying to phone a woman here in Providence? What’s wrong, Bryce? Did they lock up all the nubile young women when they heard you were going to be in town?”
“Katie’s worth a long-distance call,” he replied, unruffled. “Ask Adam. He’s smitten with her, too. Although I’m sure he’ll deny it.”
Adam avoided Lara’s inquisitive glance and cut off her retort. “This is a business office, Bryce, and a business phone, and Lara and I have business to conduct, so if there’s nothing else, I’ll see you this weekend at the Hall.”
“Sure thing.” If Bryce was bothered by Adam’s rough dismissal, he didn’t let it show in his voice. “Say hi to Katie for me.” And he hung up.
Immediately, Adam regretted his brusque handling of Bryce’s call. He missed the camaraderie they’d once shared and the brotherly affection that had somehow fallen prey to an unhealthy sibling rivalry over the past couple of years. He didn’t know what had caused it or how to re-establish their friendship. He did, however, know there was no way he would ever pass Katie’s number along to his brother. Not that it would do Bryce any good if he did since she wasn’t answering her phone anyway.
“Katie.” Lara’s tone pondered the name, as if it were a great mystery. “Hmm,” she said. “The plot thickens.”
“Bryce flirts with every female within range,” Adam said to set her straight. “He’d even flirt with you if you’d give him the slightest encouragement.”
“Not even in an alternate universe.” She seemed to relish the idea of banishing the middle Braddock brother to another, and probably evil, realm. “It’s not his flirting with her that surprises me. If you did whisk her away from him, then apparently she made quite an impression on you, as well.”
He liked Lara. He didn’t know what he’d do without her razor-sharp intelligence and keen insights. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t fire her in a heartbeat if she crossed the line between business and personal once too often. “Set the meeting with Wallace for Friday,” he said. “And tell Allen I’ll see him now.”
Being the fine employee she was, Lara heeded the warning and snapped into professional mode without a blink. “A morning or afternoon meeting on Friday?” she asked.
He smiled, softening the tone and allowing her some part of the decision. “I’ll leave that to you.”
“Afternoon, I think.” She smiled, too, and walked briskly to the door. “Anything else?”
“Just Allen.”
“He’ll be here in five minutes.”
Adam nodded, tapped the nib of his pen against the desk some more, and contemplated the idea that Katie was avoiding him. She probably checked the number ringing in, saw the Braddock name, and didn’t answer. Or maybe she simply hadn’t turned on her phone at all. For some reason, he believed she just didn’t want to talk to him this morning. But why not? And if she wouldn’t take his calls, who would she talk to? Whose call would she answer without a second thought?
Ilsa Fairchild.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Adam jabbed the intercom. “Nell,” he said. “Get Ilsa Fairchild’s phone number for me, please. I’ll hold.” He waited, wrote down the number as Nell read it to him, then repeated it back to her.
“Do you want me to get her for you now?” Nell asked, all efficiency and barely suppressed interest.
“No, I’ll do it myself. Better stop Allen on his way in and ask him to wait out there until I’m through talking to her.”
He jabbed off the connection, and punched in the number, pleased to be taking some action, even if he had no idea what he would say to Mrs. Fairchild when she answered.
Something would occur to him, though. Katie owed him an explanation and he fully expected to have one before the day was over.
Chapter Five
The Torrid Tomato was packed with the usual boisterous lunch crowd, but as she followed the hostess to a booth in the back, Ilsa caught sight of Katie and waved.
Katie waved back and shimmied through an opening between two waiters to make a clean slide into the other side of the booth just as Ilsa was seated. “Mrs. If!” she said with a big smile. “I’m so glad you came in for lunch today. It’s my last day of work here, can you believe it?”
Ilsa smiled back, delighted as always at Katie’s joyful exuberance. “I love the new hairdo.”
Katie touched a loose curl with fussy fingers. “Thanks, I just got it cut a couple of days ago and I’m still not used to it. I thought a shorter and sassier do would be easier to manage in the Southern heat.”
Disappointment tweaked Ilsa’s good humor. “So you really are leaving Providence?”
Katie made a face in answer. “That was the original plan, but the house I was supposed to take in Baton Rouge sold and the agency is frantically looking for something else for me. There was a place in Phoenix and another in Tucson, but I was there in the middle of summer last year and, thank you very much, I’m in no hurry to go back. A little sun goes a long way in Arizona.”
“I can’t believe it’ll be any cooler in Louisiana. Plus there is the humidity factor, you know.”
“I’ve heard.” She grinned. “Bryce Braddock told me and since he never lies about the weather, I guess it must be true.”
Ilsa’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “I didn’t know you’d met Bryce.”
“Bryce, Adam, and their grandfather. Of course, you introduced me to Adam a couple of weeks ago when you were in here having lunch with him, remember? Not that he does. Somehow, he’s gotten me all mixed up with somebody else he must have met, but can’t remember meeting and he’s got this crazy idea that I’m some kind of events planner. When I try to tell him I’m not, he doesn’t listen worth a barn owl’s hoot. It’s the most bizarre thing. I was going to tell you Monday at Tai Chi class, but since you’re here now, I’ll take my break and tell you the whole crazy story. You are not going to believe this, but probably a week or two after that day you had lunch with him, Adam Braddock called me and said you’d given him my phone number and recommended tha—”
“Katie!” An impatient someone in the kitchen yelled out. “Order up!”
With a grimace, she pushed out of the booth. “Got to go, Mrs. If, but I’ll be back. Do you want me to put in an order for some artichoke dip?” She stood and leaned in, lowering her voice. “You didn’t hear this from me, but stay away from the specials today. Kenny is in a really uncreative mood.” She rolled her eyes and was off to pick up and deliver.
Ilsa flipped open the napkin and smoothed it on her lap, thinking that Katie must have run into Bryce on her visit to Braddock Hall on Tuesday. Of course, Katie didn’t know that Ilsa already knew about that trip, that she’d had not one, but two separate accountings. Ilsa knew from experience it was never useful to speculate on what might happen after one of her Introduction of Possibilities, as she’d come to call them, but she had been taken quite by surprise when Archer’s phone call came. Certainly, she’d set up the lunch with Adam at The Torrid Tomato, and certainly, she’d noticed the spark when his eye
s had met Katie’s. And she had, purposely, made certain Adam had the business card with Katie’s phone number on the back when he left the restaurant. But she couldn’t, in a million years of matchmaking, have predicted that he’d somehow conclude Katie was a party planner and then offer her the job of planning Archer’s birthday party.
But the unexpected was what made her work so interesting. It validated her personal belief that love would find a way against incredible odds. Of course, it was a long and winding path from possibility to happily ever after, as she’d tried to caution Archer. But he’d fallen in love with Katie on the basis of that one afternoon, declared she was the perfect match for his eldest grandson, and could hear nothing but wedding bells pealing madly in the near future. Ilsa wasn’t that optimistic, although she had been encouraged when Adam phoned to ask for her assistance. He wanted her to persuade Katie to take on the task of planning Archer’s party. Something more than a sit-down dinner for two hundred was on the line, Ilsa could tell that by the intensity in his voice and in the quite stunning fact that he’d called her himself instead of having his secretary do it.
Pleased by the hopeful turn of events, Ilsa smiled at her waiter, ordered a glass of tea, a plate of quahog stuffies, and waited eagerly to discover Katie’s take on Adam Braddock. It would, of course, require diplomacy to listen without revealing all she knew about Katie’s visit and Adam’s agenda, but that was, after all, one of the things she did exceedingly well. She hadn’t lied to Adam or to Katie and she wouldn’t. On the other hand, she saw no good reason to correct the impression each had formed about how, exactly, Adam had gotten the number of Katie’s cell phone.
If their relationship unfolded in the same wonderfully mysterious way it had begun, by the time they figured out their misconception, it really wouldn’t matter one way or the other.
WHEN ILSA FAIRCHILD suggested Adam talk to Katie in person, it had sounded like a reasonable idea and the obvious way to proceed. On the way to Katie’s house, when he spied a street vendor and impulsively asked Benson to stop, taking a gift of flowers had seemed like a perfectly sensible, gentlemanly thing to do. But now that he was standing on her front porch, holding a bouquet that seemed, by turns, overzealous, wildly inappropriate and way too personal, he wondered what had gotten into him.
He wasn’t courting Katie. He just wanted her to work for him. Right now, however, that seemed like the worst idea of all. Just because his grandfather had taken a shine to her was no reason for Adam to be on this doorstep now. He didn’t need a party planner this badly. He didn’t even like parties, for crying out loud. He’d just turn around, get back in the car and go to his four o’clock meeting with Wallace.
Adam turned to leave, hesitated, turned back. Okay…he’d ring the doorbell. He’d come this far. He might as well ring the doorbell. Once. Not that he expected her to answer the door any better than she answered her phone.
His finger was poised over the backlit button, ready to push it, when the front door was flung open and Katie stood in the doorway, staring at him as if he were the creature from the Black Lagoon.
“Adam?” she said, as if she wasn’t certain.
“Katie.” His tone was just right, he thought. Businesslike. A bit cool. Impersonal. Not at all nervous, which was, remarkably, the way he felt.
She looked at the flowers then back to his face. “What…what are you doing here?”
“Your phone must be out of order. I’ve been trying to call you for days.”
“Days,” she repeated vaguely and her gaze dropped again to the flowers. “I just saw you Tuesday.”
“All right. I’ve been trying to call you for two whole days and a large part of this one.”
She frowned, crossed her arms low across her waist, then uncrossed them and smoothed the shirttails of her white blouse. “Um, sometimes I don’t answer my phone.”
“That’s an unusual way to run a business,” he said, thinking this wasn’t such a bad idea after all. She was clearly rattled by his presence at her door, which for some reason made him feel better about being here. “I wouldn’t think it would be very profitable.”
“No, I…uh…guess it isn’t.” She was wearing a pair of denim shorts that showed a surprisingly long, tantalizing expanse of leg—shapely leg—and her feet were bare, a slender silver ring glinting around one toe. He didn’t even want to think about why he found that appealing.
“An answering service might be a good idea,” he suggested. “For those times when you can’t take your calls. That’s even available as an option with your cell phone service.”
“Hmm.” Her dark hair curled in charming disarray around her face and her eyes were bluer even than he remembered. He wondered if she’d thought much about the kiss they’d shared right here on this porch and if she was wondering if he might be about to kiss her again. The possibility had occurred to him about half a second after she opened the door.
“Were you on your way out?” he asked before possibility became impulse and, from there, disaster. He was here to hire her. Period. End of fantasy. “I hadn’t even pressed the doorbell yet.”
“I saw the Rolls through the window and thought I must be imagining…” She blinked and seemed to gather her composure. “What are you doing here, Adam?”
“Mrs. Fairchild suggested I stop by to see you.”
Katie seemed surprised at that. “She told me I should give you a call…or at least answer the phone when you call.”
“Most of the time, it was my secretary phoning. Nell.”
For the first time, a hint of a smile touched her lips. “I sorta figured that.” She contemplated the bouquet again. “When did you talk to Mrs. Fairchild?”
“Right after she had lunch with you today.”
Her eyes met his. “I’ve only been home an hour. You weren’t allowing me much opportunity to take her advice.”
“Were you going to call me?”
“I hadn’t decided.”
He pressed for more of an answer. “But you were leaning toward…?”
“Probably not.”
He frowned, his bout of nervousness giving way to frustration. “I don’t understand your attitude, Katie. Grandfather’s birthday party represents a great opportunity for your business. There’s no good reason for you to pass it up because you feel it may be more of a challenge than you’re used to tackling.”
“I’m not afraid.” Her chin came up with the words. “I just don’t think it would be right, that’s all.”
“If it’s because I kissed you the other night, I can assure you it won’t happen again.”
She regarded him thoughtfully, her head tipped to one side, assessment mixed with a wry humor in her eyes. “It has nothing to do with that. Look, there must be a hundred people in Providence who’d love to work this event for you. Why not hire one of them?”
“Grandfather likes you. He’s being very insistent that this is his birthday and you’re his choice to handle all the party arrangements.” He softened his tone, offered a wry smile, knowing they’d come to a crucial moment in the negotiations. “It would mean a lot to me and to my brothers if you’d reconsider your decision.” He paused, then gave it a little push. “I seldom ask for anything twice, Katie.”
Katie took a deep breath and held it while she argued with her better judgment. She wanted to do this. Her whole body ached with the desire to test her mettle against Adam Braddock. Which was, mainly, the problem. After his kiss, she couldn’t pretend the sizzle she felt every time she looked at him was harmless. He might have convinced himself that one kiss would be the end of it, but she was wise enough to know the attraction would develop into more kisses and more…well, a whole lot more. Especially if she had anything to say about it.
But she was ready to leave Providence—as soon as the agency found a place for her to go. It didn’t matter that she’d already quit her job, that she was in limbo for the time being. The important thing to keep in mind here was that she was ready to move on to th
e next adventure of her life. Getting involved with Adam, even temporarily, was not just bad timing but a complication she didn’t need. She’d said as much to Mrs. If today at lunch and been surprised by her friend’s laughing response. Are you avoiding complications, Katie? Or possibilities?
“Are you all right?” Adam looked at her with concern.
She let her breath out in a rush. She might be a lot of things, but a coward she wasn’t. “I’m fine,” she said, deciding to take the possibility of adventure he was offering and wondering not for the first time why he hadn’t left the flowers in the car. They were already wilting in the afternoon sun. “You really should have those in water,” she said. “They’re going to be all dried out and dead by the time you get wherever you’re going.”
“What?”
“The flowers.” She pointed to the bouquet he seemed to have forgotten he held in the vise of his fist. “They aren’t looking too healthy.”
He frowned and appeared slightly embarrassed as he jostled the tissue-wrapped stems. “Great, and here I was counting on them to swing the sympathy vote my way.”
“Sympathy vote?”
“All right, so it’s a bribe…a last resort to help my cause.”
“You mean they’re…for me?” She couldn’t believe he’d brought flowers for her.
“For you.” He extended the bouquet toward her and she gathered it in like a pleasant memory. And truthfully, she couldn’t remember the last time anyone had given her flowers. And for a cause, too. She buried her nose in their sweet fragrance.
“Mmm,” she said. “Thank you.”
“So you’ll reconsider? About the party?
She tipped up her chin, offering a coy smile into the bargain. “You’ve been watching too many FTD commercials.”
His hand came up, passed warmly across her cheek, nestled in her hair, and caused her heart to stop beating. “You’ve got a daisy caught in your hair,” he said. “Don’t move.”
As if that were an option. Her heart picked up speed, racing to recover the missed beats and it was all she could do to keep her head from leaning into his touch and betraying her sudden lusty yearning with a provocative gesture.
The C.E.O.'s Unplanned Proposal Page 10