Millionaires' Destinies

by Sherryl Woods

  “A month?” she asked hopefully.

  “She’ll never buy it.”

  “Two?”

  “How about six and we’ll see where we stand?” He gazed deeper into her eyes. “There’s no one in your life who’ll object, is there?”

  “Sadly, no,” she said. “Believe me, I’d love to have an excuse to get out of this.” She gave him a knowing look. “But you knew that, didn’t you?”

  “I was reasonably confident that you wouldn’t have traipsed after me to that cottage if there had been an important man in your life.”

  Her gaze narrowed. “I came down there on business. Even if there was a man in my life, he wouldn’t have the right to object to me taking a business trip.”

  “He wouldn’t have left you down there, snowbound with me, though, would he? Not if he had an ounce of sense. He’d have been there to rescue you by dawn on Saturday.”

  “Nothing happened that needed to be explained or forgiven,” she retorted, eyes flashing.

  Richard gave her an innocent look. “Really? Here I thought that was when we fell in love.”

  Melanie groaned. “Do you have any idea how much I hate this?” she asked again.

  “You’ve mentioned that,” he admitted. “But you’re going to go along with it, aren’t you?”

  For a minute it almost looked as if she might balk, but then she finally nodded.

  At her acquiescence—albeit reluctant—Richard felt the oddest sensation in his chest. It felt a whole lot like relief. Or maybe elation. He couldn’t be sure. It wasn’t a sensation he’d ever experienced before. That was happening a lot lately.

  Melanie’s head was spinning. She had just agreed to pose as Richard’s almost-fiancée for the foreseeable future. There was no question in her mind that this was going to be a role she could handle by making an occasional appearance by his side in public. He was going to insist that she give it her all to make it believable, at least to one person. Unfortunately for both of them, there was also little doubt that Destiny was going to be a hard sell.

  So why try? Melanie asked herself that repeatedly on the drive back to her office. Why had she agreed to this? Because she’d felt guilty over that stupid item in the morning paper? That hadn’t been her doing. Because she had some insane idea that this was the only way to get Destiny to leave them alone? Richard might be convinced of that, but she wasn’t. Not entirely, anyway. So, what was the real reason?

  Because some teeny-tiny, totally insane part of her wanted it to be true. Even as the thought crept in, she was shouting no-no-no to herself as emphatically as she possibly could. The noise was so loud in her head, she barely heard the cell phone when it rang. Relieved to have an excuse to turn off her own chaotic thoughts, she punched the button on the dash that put the call on speaker.

  “Yes,” she barked.

  “Show time,” Richard said.

  “What?”

  “We’re having dinner with Destiny tonight.”

  “How did that happen? I just left you ten minutes ago. Word couldn’t have gotten back to her that quickly.”

  “I called,” he told her without the least hint of regret. “Preemptive strike.”

  “Are you crazy? I haven’t even gotten used to the idea. I’ll bungle this.”

  “Just follow my lead. I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear something glamorous. Destiny likes to dress for dinner.”

  He hung up before Melanie could get a vehement objection to cross her lips. What was he thinking? Maybe he figured it was like swimming—better to toss her into the deep end to test her mettle than to wishy-wash around in the kiddie pool for weeks.

  If she was going to do this, she needed help. She punched speed dial for her office.

  “Becky, I need you to meet me at Chez Deux in ten minutes.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ll explain when I see you. Dig a charge card out of the office safe.”

  “Which one?”

  “The one with the biggest credit line,” she said grimly.

  Under other circumstances, Melanie loved to shop. Not that she was ever extravagant, not with a comparatively new business to run, but she loved clothes. Chez Deux with its line of secondhand designer clothes suited her budget and her desire to dress for success. Normally, however, she was picking suits off the rack, not evening wear. If she forgot the reason for this shopping expedition, it could still be fun.

  She found a parking space a block away, then trudged carefully over the cobblestone sidewalks to avoid the occasional patch of leftover ice.

  “Hey, Jasmin,” she greeted the owner when she got to the classy little shop, which accepted consignments from many of Washington’s best-dressed women.

  “Ms. Hart, how nice to see you,” Jasmin Trudeau said. “We have some lovely new suits in your size.”

  “Not today. Today I’m looking for something a little fancier, for a formal dinner party.”

  The petite woman’s eyes lit up. “Then the rumors are true, n’est-ce pas? I saw the story in this morning’s paper.”

  Melanie wanted to deny it, but Jasmin was one of the city’s biggest sources of socialite gossip. If Melanie declared the story entirely untrue, it would be all over town by evening, pretty much defeating this charade she and Richard were embarking on.

  “I am having dinner with Mr. Carlton tonight,” she admitted, leaving it at that.

  “Then you must look your very best. I have just the thing,” Jasmin said. “It came in only yesterday. I have not even put it on the rack yet. One moment and I will get it for you.”

  Becky arrived just then, looking harried and curious. “What on earth is going on?”

  “I’m buying a dress,” Melanie said.

  “I got that much. What kind of dress and why?”

  “A fancy, expensive dress. I need the fortification.”

  Becky stared at her blankly. “Huh?”

  “Let me get this over with, and I’ll take you out for a long leisurely lunch, so you can tell me I haven’t completely lost my mind.”

  Becky hid her disappointment and silenced her questions as Jasmin reappeared with a strapless dress in bronze satin.

  “This dress was made for you,” Jasmin said. “Do not look at the price. If it looks as fabulous on you as I think it will, you will not care what it costs.”

  Melanie was already itching to slip the rich fabric over her head. She took it gingerly and headed for a dressing room. In seconds she had stripped off her clothes and slipped the dress on. Only when she had it zipped up did she risk a look in the mirror. “Oh, my,” she whispered. She felt like Cinderella after she was outfitted for the ball, not quite like herself…or maybe more like herself than she’d ever been before.

  “Hey, stop hiding in there and get out here,” Becky commanded. “Jasmin and I are dying of curiosity.”

  Melanie stepped out of the dressing room. Both women’s eyes widened.

  “You look fabulous,” Becky said.

  “Mr. Carlton will not be able to resist you,” Jasmin added, as if that were a bonus.

  Before Becky could ask what the heck the other woman meant by that, Melanie said quickly, “I’ll take the dress.” Jasmin had been right. She didn’t care what it cost. Whatever it was, it was a small price to pay to walk into Destiny’s house tonight feeling confident as she and Richard launched this charade. And she could always have it cleaned and bring it right back here on consignment to recoup some of the cost, though something told her she would never give it up.

  Once she’d added an outrageously expensive jeweled purse, she signed the credit-card slip without giving it a second glance. Maybe if her accountant turned a blind eye, she could figure out some way to turn this into a business expense.

  When the transaction was completed, she took her purchases to her car. Becky trailed along behind, muttering a barrage of questions that Melanie determinedly ignored. Only when her packages were stowed away and they were seated in a nearby restaurant with coffee on the tabl
e and salads on the way did she finally look her friend in the eye.

  “You have to promise that you will never breathe one single word of what I am about to tell you,” she told Becky. “Not one word. Not to your own mother. Not even to a lawyer, a priest or anyone else sworn to uphold your confidentiality.”

  Becky solemnly crossed her heart. “My God, Melanie, what have you done? You didn’t kill Pete For-sythe, did you?”

  “No, though in retrospect, that might have made more sense than this.”

  “Then you saw Richard?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “And he was furious?”

  “About as furious as I anticipated when I told you I was going over there this morning to try to head off an explosion.”

  “Did you figure out who leaked the story?”

  “He’s convinced it was Destiny.”

  “His own aunt?” Becky said incredulously.

  Melanie nodded. “It gets worse. He’s also convinced she won’t be happy until he and I really are involved, so he’s decided we need to pretend that we are.”

  Becky blinked hard, then her expression slowly changed to comprehension. “That explains the dress.”

  “Yep. We’re having dinner with Destiny tonight.”

  “You actually went along with this?” Becky asked, sounding incredulous. “You’re going to lie to a woman who befriended you?”

  “A woman who befriended me with ulterior motives,” Melanie corrected. “It’s a fine point, but an important one.”

  “Oh, brother.”

  Melanie met Becky’s gaze. “Am I crazy?”

  “Probably.”

  “Is there any way this can not go horribly wrong?”

  “Not that I can see,” Becky said, sounding surprisingly cheerful.

  “Why are you suddenly finding this so amusing?” Melanie demanded.

  “Because you are both so obviously delusional.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Richard thinks he’s doing this to get even with his aunt, am I right?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re doing it out of some misguided sense of guilt, correct?”

  Melanie nodded.

  “Ha!”

  Melanie frowned at her. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “You’re both doing it because you want it to be true. He wants to be involved with you. You want to be involved with him. Neither of you is willing to be honest about it.” Becky took a little bow. “You’re welcome.”

  Melanie gave her a sour look. “I didn’t thank you.”

  “You should have,” Becky told her. “It’s the most honest thing that’s been said at this table since we sat down.”

  Melanie opened her mouth to deny it, then snapped her mouth shut again. There had been enough lies and half-truths and deceptions floating around today.

  “This really is going to be a disaster, isn’t it?” she said eventually.

  Becky nodded without hesitation. “That would be my assessment, yes.” She gave Melanie a sympathetic look. “You could still fix it.”

  “How?”

  “Make it real.”

  “No. Neither of us wants that.”

  Becky rolled her eyes.

  “Okay, Richard doesn’t want that and I’m almost certain I don’t, either. We hardly know each other, but I do know he’s a man who’s not in touch with his feelings, he’s still a potential client and he’s stodgy. Those are all things that make him bad for me.”

  “You’re hopeless,” Becky said. “At least I’m in touch with my feelings.” She grinned. “Jason is groveling, by the way. It’s lovely.”

  “Good for Jason.” She gave Becky a defeated look. “How am I going to fix this?”

  “You’re obviously not, at least not the mature, intelligent way, since you won’t acknowledge the truth. That means you have to go with the flow.”

  “I’m lousy at going with the flow,” Melanie reminded her.

  Becky grinned. “I know. That’s what’s going to make this so much fun to watch.”

  Chapter Eight

  Richard rarely questioned his decisions once he’d made them. Having second thoughts was the mark of a man who didn’t know his own mind, and he prided himself on his clarity of thought. Or he had until today.

  Now that the dust had settled over that ridiculous rumor in the morning paper, he realized that talk would have died down in a day or two with no real harm done. That was how he should have handled it, simply let it go away of its own accord. Instead, he’d turned it into this big charade that was going to turn his life inside out for weeks, maybe even months to come.

  He’d gotten caught up in the heat of the moment. He’d wanted to pay Destiny back for her meddling. He’d wanted to go on spending time with Melanie without having her underfoot professionally. That was both unfair and insulting. He was surprised she’d gone along with it. She should have told him to take a hike. He couldn’t help wondering why she hadn’t. Maybe she was suffering from the same momentary lunacy that was affecting him.

  Now he’d gone and compounded his mistake by deciding to drag a perfectly nice woman into his aunt’s web of intrigue, when he should have been doing everything in his power to keep the two of them as far apart as humanly possible. His head pounded just thinking about what dinner was going to be like.

  Hoping for backup, he picked up the phone and called his brother Mack.

  “Well, well, if it isn’t the newly proclaimed Romeo of the family,” Mack taunted when he heard Richard’s voice.

  “Go to hell.”

  Mack laughed. Mack was used to having his name bandied all over town, linked with a different socialite each time. Richard was not.

  “As soon as you’re through enjoying this, I have a favor to ask,” Richard announced grimly.

  “Anything,” Mack said, instantly sober. “You know that. Should I go over to the paper and put the fear of God into Pete Forsythe? I’ve been dying to have a legitimate excuse for a long time now. Unfortunately, most of what he reports about me is true. The man’s a menace to the privacy of all bachelors.”

  “Not worth getting your knuckles roughed up,” Richard said.

  “I wasn’t planning to resort to brute force, despite my reputation from the football field,” Mack said, sounding wounded that Richard thought so little of him. “I can be intimidating in other ways.”

  Richard chuckled despite his lousy mood. “Believe me, I am aware of that. Actually, though, I was hoping you’d back me up at Destiny’s tonight. Intimidate her a little.”

  “Oh, no,” Mack said. “She is obviously on one of her matchmaking tears. When she gets this way, I prefer flying under her radar.”

  “Believe me, she’s going to be too busy focusing on me tonight to worry about you,” Richard told him. “I’m taking Melanie Hart to dinner.”

  Mack whistled. “Oh, brother, you are living dangerously, aren’t you? Or is something really going on between you and this woman?”

  “There is nothing going on,” Richard assured him. “But I want Destiny to think otherwise.”

  “Why the hell would you want that?”

  “I’m hoping Destiny will back off if she’s convinced I’m doing exactly what she wanted,” Richard explained. “And if you tell another living, breathing soul I said that, I’ll make sure that Destiny tries to hook you up with the most avaricious, impossible female in this entire region. Believe me, I know some of the worst. I’ll give her a list of candidates guaranteed to make your life miserable.”

  “Speaking of intimidation,” Mack said quietly, “you’re not bad at it yourself.”

  “Thank you. Will you be there?”

  “How could I possibly refuse such a gracious invitation to dine with my family?” Mack said with a sarcastic bite to his voice. “Are you calling Ben?”

  “No, I think you’ll do for now.”

  “But baby brother might enjoy this,” Mack objected. “He’s never seen you on the rope
s before. We’ve always thought you were invincible, afraid of nothing.”

  “Very amusing. Besides, Ben doesn’t enjoy anything that means he has to leave his farm in Middle-burg and stop brooding for an entire evening. On top of that, he’s too honest for conspiracies.”

  “And I’m not?” Mack inquired with a touch of indignation.

  “Not even close. You thrive on them. That’s why you’re so good at using sneaky, clever tactics to lure the best, most unavailable football talent to your team,” Richard said. “Seven-thirty, okay?”

  “Despite the number of times you’ve insulted me in this conversation, I’ll be there,” Mack promised. “Hope I can keep a straight face.”

  “Consider the alternative,” Richard told him grimly.

  After he’d hung up, he kept staring at the phone. He loved his brother. He knew Mack would go to the mat for him or for Ben, but an actor? No way. It was entirely possible he’d just made his second-worst mistake of the day. Apparently he was on a real roll.

  Melanie had anticipated a barrage of last-minute instructions from Richard on the drive to his aunt’s. Instead, beyond an approving once-over and a friendly-enough greeting when he’d picked her up, he’d remained stoically silent. It was getting on her nerves.

  “Don’t you think maybe we should go over our plan?” she asked finally.

  He glanced at her then, the line of his jaw hard. “You think I actually have a plan?”

  “I was hoping for one, yes. You have a reputation for being very organized, for leaving nothing to chance.”

  His laugh sounded forced. “So I do. Apparently it’s my day for doing the unexpected.”

  “So there really is no plan,” she surmised, feeling suddenly queasy. She could wing it with a mob of reporters, but this? This was definitely not a situation in which she should be flying by the seat of her pants. Surely, Richard should understand that. She cleared her throat. “Um, don’t you think maybe we should stop for a second and get a few things straight?”

  This time when he glanced her way, his gaze lingered. “You really are nervous, aren’t you?”

  “Well, duh! What do you think? I am about to face a woman I like and respect and pretend that I’m falling for her favorite nephew. I anticipate a lot of questions. Don’t you?”