The Tycoon's Proposal

by Leigh Michaels

  Dreamer, whispered a little voice in the back of her brain. You just want an excuse to kiss him again.

  She punched her pillow into shape and thought about what little he’d said about his parents and Denver. No wonder the man was skittish about women, about commitment, about sentimental attachment to material goods.

  And no wonder her resistance had been softened. Who wouldn’t be sympathetic after a tale like that? Even though the details were few and the emotions were mostly ones she’d imagined for herself?

  She wondered what Kurt and Hannah were talking about down in the living room, and why it seemed to be taking so long. She didn’t even realize she was listening for footsteps on the stairs until she heard them come up. Hannah’s steps were slow and careful, as if she were tired or discouraged. Then, quite a bit later, Lissa heard Kurt—though he was obviously trying to be quiet. Was it her imagination, or did he pause outside her door before going on upstairs to his own room?

  Surely not. Kissing her was one thing, but coming to her room…. Unless there was something he needed to tell her, to warn her about. Perhaps something concerning his conversation with Hannah.

  How much did Hannah know—or suspect?

  Her comment about expecting Hannah to be a slave driver in the morning, after her evening’s rest, had been nothing more than a casual phrase, but Lissa had barely left her room before she was starting to feel that she’d had a psychic moment.

  A muffled thump drew her attention to the dressing room right next to Hannah’s bedroom. Her “extra wardrobe,” Hannah had called it, and Lissa had taken one look through the door at a couple of bulging closets and decided to postpone the job as long as she could.

  Now, she opened the door and paused in horrified surprise at the sight of Hannah, standing on a chair, taking boxes off the top shelf of a closet. One of them had escaped her and bounced on the carpet.

  She was eighty, and the woman was standing on a chair cleaning out shelves. It was a wonder she hadn’t fallen off.

  “Good heavens, Hannah,” she said. “How did you get up there?”

  “I climbed on the hassock and then onto the chair. I thought I’d get an early start, and I didn’t want to bother you since you were out late last night.”

  Lissa, feeling guilty, stooped to pick up the hatbox Hannah had dropped, and eyed the row of similar boxes which marched across the top of the dresser. The woman had obviously been at work for quite a while. “What’s got you so fired up today?”

  “I had a chat with Kurt last night.”

  Lissa wondered if that was good news or bad. If Kurt had told his grandmother he wanted to use her china for target practice….

  Hannah pulled another box from the closet shelf and opened it. “Oh, this was one of my favorites—back in the days when women wore hats everywhere. Maybe I should bring them back into style.”

  Lissa blinked at the bright-eyed bird—it looked real—perched atop the forest-green velvet. “Well, I wouldn’t suggest starting with that one, or all the animal lovers will be on your case. Of course you could wear it with the mink and give them a two-for-one thrill.” She took the box and added it to the row on the dresser.

  Hannah didn’t seem to share the joke. “There’s a suit in here—the hat matches it. The same shade of green, but it’s wool trimmed in velvet.” She bent over, wobbling a little, so she could flip through the dress bags which hung under the shelf, peeking at each hanger.

  Lissa’s throat tightened. “Hannah,” she said firmly. “You get down this minute and let me look for it.”

  “I wonder who might be able to use these things?” Hannah mused. Obediently, she took Lissa’s hand and got down from the chair to the hassock, and then to the floor, groaning a little. Lissa felt the pressure in her chest ease a bit with Hannah safely back on firm ground.

  “Why don’t you go downstairs for a rest and a cup of coffee? I’ll think about who would want them,” Lissa suggested. “Oh, this must be the one you were looking for.” She pulled out an organdy dress bag and opened it. “This is gorgeous.”

  The cut of the suit was severe and so old-fashioned that it was now back in style. Lissa could almost covet it herself. She laid the bag across the bed and set the matching hat on top of it. “I bet the drama department at the university would like having authentic period costumes.”

  “Oh, goodness.” Hannah sighed. “Hearing my wardrobe referred to as authentic period costumes is a bit of a jolt.”

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s all right, dear. It’s true, after all. I’ll bring you a cup of coffee—or would you like to have breakfast before you start sorting?”

  “I’m not hungry. But I’d love coffee.” Lissa climbed up on the chair and took out the next hatbox in the row.

  She was admiring a confection of ivory silk and net, with iridescent beads scattered over it to catch the light, when she heard a footstep behind her. “What did you do with all these clothes, Hannah?”

  It was Kurt who answered. “She wore them, I presume.”

  Lissa spun around, forgetting she was standing on a chair, and only kept her balance by dropping the hat and bracing both hands on the molding atop the closet door. She must look as if she were hanging by her fingernails, she thought irritably. Very carefully she shifted her grip and regained her balance. “I thought you’d already left.”

  “I slept in this morning.” He retrieved the hat and handed it back to her.

  “Thanks. Still recuperating from the talking-to you got from Hannah, perhaps?”

  “That would take a while.” His voice was dry.

  The almost-devious answer was all the confirmation Lissa needed—it was obvious to her, if she’d needed confirmation, that the subject had been Lissa herself. “I’ll accept your apology now, for causing all this trouble.”

  His eyebrows tilted upward. “If you’re expecting me to say I’m sorry for kissing you last night, get over it. You were much too cooperative to deserve an apology.”

  Lissa bit her lip. She could hardly deny that. You’re nothing but a sponge, she accused herself. “Then I’ll accept with gratitude your offer to explain to your grandmother that there’s nothing going on between us.”

  “With gratitude, yet? That’s too bad. Because I’m going to do nothing of the sort.”

  “But there isn’t, Kurt. A few kisses don’t mean anything.” She didn’t look directly at him. She wasn’t sure she wanted to see the expression on his face. Would it be relief to find that she agreed with him? Satisfaction, perhaps, that she hadn’t misinterpreted his intentions?

  He moved the forest-green suit and sat down on the corner of the bed. “What do you think our talk last night was about, anyway?”

  “Well….” There was no easy way to put it. “Me. Or I should say, you and me? Right?”

  He grinned. “Now who’s being arrogant?”

  “But what else could it be? She talked to you last night, and today she’s suddenly gung-ho to get this room cleaned out. I thought it must be because she’s suspicious of what’s going on, and she wants to hurry things along and get me out of here.”

  “I thought,” Kurt said meditatively, “you said there was nothing going on.”

  “But if she thinks there is….”

  “She doesn’t.”

  Lissa frowned. How could Hannah not be suspicious, considering the way Lissa had come staggering in last night after that assault on her senses had robbed her of all fine motor control? “I suppose as a cover story you told her I’d had too much to drink?”

  “I didn’t tell her a thing—because she didn’t ask. In fact, I think you’re just feeling guilty, Lissa—and considering that you say yourself there’s nothing to feel guilty about, I find that very interesting.”

  She could feel herself turning slightly pink.

  “Relax. Gran thinks you and Ray make a cute couple.”

  Lissa blinked in surprise. “Okay. Well, I suppose that makes things easier.”

  “One w
ould think so. Of course that’s not what she wanted to talk to me about either. But I don’t suppose it’ll come as any surprise to you that she’s giving you the house.”

  Lissa’s foot slid off the chair cushion, and this time she was literally hanging from the top of the closet door.

  Kurt stepped forward, slid an arm around her waist, and lifted her down.

  “Thanks.” She was feeling shaky. “You know, maybe I should have something to eat. I’m so out of it that I’d have sworn you said—”

  “I did say it. She’s planning to give you the house. This house.”

  Blood was pounding in Lissa’s ears. “That’s impossible. She hasn’t said a word to me about it.”

  “Since when did Gran consult anybody—unless it was convenient for her to blame somebody else for the idea?”

  He had a point there. As her breathing finally steadied, Lissa’s mind finally started to work right again. “Oh, now I understand. Of course she wouldn’t tell me about it. She told you she was going to give me the house because she has no intention of actually doing it.”

  Kurt shook his head as if it hurt. “Run that one by me again.”

  “It was a shock tactic. She tells you that you’re not getting the house, the shock makes you realize that you’d be heartbroken to lose it, so you argue with her about how she shouldn’t give it to me, and voilà! She allows herself to be persuaded that it should stay in the family and then everybody’s happy—including Lissa, who never knew what she missed out on.”

  “That’s not what happened.”

  “You didn’t have a sudden revelation that you want it?”

  “Nope. I think it’s an idiotic idea, but not because I had an attack of envy. The way is clear for you.”

  “But I don’t want it! I don’t know what on earth made her think I might.”

  “You haven’t dropped any little hints about how wonderful the place is?”

  “Well…only to make her think about whether she really wants to leave it.”

  “No chats about how if I would only stop to think I’d change my mind, because it’s such a wonderful house and a family treasure? No discussions of how a central location would be better for my business?”

  “Not to her. I swear, Kurt, I only told you that on the spur of the moment last night. What would I do with this house, anyway? It’s way too big for her and Janet, so why she’d even consider giving it to me…. I could live in the linen closet and never touch the other rooms.”

  “Well, there you have it.” Kurt’s voice was dry. “You’d have plenty of room, now that the sheets and towels are all gone, and she could leave all her stuff here and come visit it whenever she liked.”

  “You think I conned her,” Lissa said quietly. “Don’t you?”

  “No,” Kurt said finally. “Not exactly.” He pushed himself up off the bed and left the room.

  A couple of minutes later Hannah came back, with two big mugs of coffee. “Here you go, Lissa. Maybe we should talk to the people in the drama department before we drag all this stuff out of the closets.”

  Lissa’s jaw dropped. Now that she’d started the job, Hannah was suddenly ready to quit? What could have changed the woman’s mind? Had Kurt run into her on the stairs and said something?

  “We should look everything over and make a list anyway. I think they’d be more interested if there was some sort of inventory they could look at before deciding.” Lissa took a long pull from her coffee and felt warmth creep through her veins.

  She still couldn’t believe what Kurt had told her. He must have been mistaken. She would have to think of a way to gently broach the subject with Hannah. She could hardly just say, Is it true you want to give me your house? Because if that wasn’t what Hannah had said…well, the uproar would be incredible.

  “I can take care of the inventory,” Lissa went on, “as long as you’ll pop in once in a while to identify things. I’m afraid I wouldn’t know a cloche from a cloak without help.”

  “No, I’ll just sit here and write it all down as you go. Are you sure you don’t want a break, though?”

  Lissa shook her head, finished clearing the shelf, and looked with interest at the set of cabinets which had been built in above the closet doors to take advantage of the enormous height of the ceilings. How was she supposed to get to those? The items in those cupboards—and she had no doubt the space was full—would probably be even older and more interesting than what was in the closet.

  She decided to think about it later, and climbed down off the chair.

  “Did you have fun on your date last night?” Hannah asked. She had dug a box of stationery out of a desk drawer and was trying pens, tossing one after another aside before finding one which worked. “Goodness, I didn’t realize it had been so long since this room was used.”

  Kurt pushed the door wide and brought in a shiny new aluminum ladder. “Stop climbing on chairs. You can’t come to the party at the store on Friday if you’re in the hospital with a broken hip, Gran.”

  “A Christmas party?” Hannah asked brightly.

  “As soon as the doors close on Christmas Eve.”

  “I love Christmas parties,” Hannah said. “And I bet Lissa does, too. As long as you promise to get us home in time to be tucked in before Santa Claus comes.”

  Kurt left for the store before Lissa could catch him alone, and a couple of hours later the closet was empty. The bed was piled with dresses and suits, shoes and handbags, and Lissa was tugging the ladder into position for an assault on the top cabinets.

  Hannah sighed. It was a long, heavy, tired sigh, and to Lissa it seemed to echo through the room.

  “Kurt thinks the same thing you do.” Hannah didn’t look up from her list. “That I should just walk away from all this and have a sale.”

  “He doesn’t want to see you exhaust yourself.”

  Hannah didn’t answer.

  Lissa sat down on the bed, where she could watch Hannah’s profile as she wrote. “Actually, that’s where Kurt and I disagree,” Lissa said. “I don’t think you should hire an auctioneer.”

  Hannah raised her eyebrows. “Indeed?”

  “Maybe the university would like to have the house. Perhaps they could turn it into a museum of costume and design.”

  Hannah turned the sheet of stationery over and began a new column. “I’m sure Kurt told you that I’ve decided what to do with the house, Lissa. I’m going to give it to you.”

  Until that moment Lissa had kept telling herself that Kurt had been mistaken, that he must have heard his grandmother wrong.

  “But why?” Her voice sounded like a screech. “Hannah, what are you thinking?”

  Hannah sounded perfectly calm. “I want you to have it because I like you, and because you like my house.”

  “But what on earth would I do with it?”

  “Live in it, I hope.”

  “Hannah, I couldn’t possibly afford….” Lissa’s voice failed, and she had to start over. “The electric bill alone must be staggering. To say nothing of how I’d manage the upkeep, along with going to school. And how I’d even get to school—”

  “Because the house is too far from campus for easy commuting?” Hannah asked calmly. “I know that. It’s exactly why the university wouldn’t possibly want to make it into a museum, either. It was a good try, though, Lissa. Was that Kurt’s idea, or yours?”

  “Mine,” Lissa muttered. She eyed Hannah suspiciously. “You’re not serious, of course. You only told me you want to give me the house so I’d have to admit the museum idea wasn’t a very good one—right?”

  “Oh, no. I’m quite serious. I figure you can rent the house out until you’re finished with school, and that will help with your tuition and living expenses. Then, when you have a job and an adequate income, you’ll be able to afford to live here yourself.”

  Lissa put her head in her hands. “That’s the most—”

  “Careful, my dear. I’m only an old lady, and everyone keeps insisting I�
��m in fragile health. I’m sure you don’t want to upset me.”

  Upset her? At the moment the woman bore an uncanny resemblance to an Abrams tank, Lissa thought—capable of running straight over any opposition.

  “And then you can remodel it however you like,” Hannah went on comfortably.

  Lissa grabbed for the straw. “You wouldn’t mind if I changed things?”

  “Oh, I’m not silly enough to think the house is perfect just as it is. It could be made much more comfortable.”

  “But that’s the answer, then. You stay right here. Instead of investing in a retirement community, put the money into making the house easier to handle for you and Janet. And leave everything else alone. You don’t need the room, so you can stop cleaning closets and dragging boxes out from under beds—”

  “I’d still have all the headaches of owning a house. And someday when I’m gone, Kurt would still hire an auctioneer to come in and sell everything.”

  Lissa bit her lip. She didn’t think it would be much comfort to remind the woman that after she was dead she wouldn’t much care what happened to her hats, her china, her Christmas ornaments….

  “He means well,” Lissa said finally. “He just doesn’t realize that things can be so important. But that doesn’t mean he never will appreciate sentiment.”

  Hannah smiled then. “And if I live to be two hundred I might yet see it. Do you want to call the people at the drama department about all these clothes, or shall I?”

  The caterers had set up the buffet tables even before the mall doors were locked, and within minutes of closing time on Christmas Eve the food was arranged and the staff had begun to gather in the large center atrium of the store. Kurt could hear the rumble of conversation as he made a last-minute check of total sales figures in all the stores.

  “How’s it look, boss?” the store manager asked. “How are we doing in comparison?”

  “Pretty well. The bonus checks came in, didn’t they?”