by Karen Anders
“It’s all that innate charm that draws herds of women to you, little brother.” Laurel went to the refrigerator and pulled out some cheese. She dug in his drawer for a knife.
“I guess that’s not a bad thing.” Dylan took a sip of wine.
“But you always took the attention in stride and never let it go to your head.” She popped a slice of cheese in her mouth.
“As a studmuffin extraordinaire I’m quite confident in my abilities. I don’t need to brag.” He walked over to her and pulled a box of crackers out of the cupboard.
Laurel rolled her eyes and leaned over and tickled his ribs.
He laughed, jumped away and began to open the package. He handed his sister a cracker. “It can be damn inconvenient at times.”
It was Laurel’s turn to laugh. “Like tonight? I guess that Mandy’s toilet gets stopped up whenever she’s having a tiff with her boyfriend, huh?” She put a piece of cheese on her cracker and took a bite.
“Which seems to be with regularity lately. They’re at a crossroads.” He raised his eyebrows. “The big step—commitment.” He picked up a piece of cheese and set it on one of his crackers, putting the whole thing in his mouth.
“That’s a tough one. I wish I could even get to the crossroads.”
“Why don’t you tell me why you showed up at my loft unexpectedly?” With that melancholy tone and that little bit of sadness around her eyes, Dylan’s “sensitivity” kicked in. Dylan couldn’t understand what was wrong with the men of New York if they didn’t find his sister irresistible. They must be stupid.
“I wanted you to come with me to look at cakes for the anniversary party.”
Dylan moaned. “Please, Laurel. Not that. Anything but that. It’s frosting and layers. Why do you need me?”
“Because you’re my brother and part of this celebration.” She grabbed his arm and squeezed. “And you’re so sensitive, you’ll know the perfect cake when you see it.”
“Ha ha.” He looked at his sister, setting his hand on his hip in a don’t-even-try-to-snow-me stance and said with confidence, “And you need to talk to me.”
Laurel sighed. “Is it that obvious that I have a problem?”
“Spill it,” he demanded.
“Mom’s been at me again about settling down.”
“What about Todd? I thought you guys were tight.”
“You know Dad doesn’t approve of Todd.” She picked up the cracker package and twisted the end a little too strongly and dropped the cellophane-wrapped package back into the box.
Her eyes were filled with puzzlement and hurt. “He thinks artists and vermin are on the same level.”
Anger curled in his chest at the high-handedness of their father. “Do you love him?”
“I think so, but I don’t know, Dylan. Dad could make his life miserable and I don’t want to hurt him. It might be best to break up with him. Look what happened to you and Allison. It took her a long time to recover.”
“I know. I made the decision to break it off with Allison to spare her. I couldn’t fault you for doing the same thing.”
“Thanks, little brother,” Laurel said, leaning over and kissing him on the cheek. “See, you are a nice guy.”
“So, am I off the hook for the cake?” He grinned hopefully.
Laurel smiled, linking her arm with Dylan’s. “Think again, hotshot.”
HALEY WAS HALF-ASLEEP in a cab, heading back to her apartment, when her cell phone rang. It jarred her awake.
“I won’t be able to go to sleep because I can’t stop thinking about you. Can’t you come back tonight?”
“Dylan?”
“Who else would it be?”
“No one,” she said quickly. Her stomach did a slow roll. “I’m slightly tipsy. I can’t come back tonight. The fantasy has to start off as a surprise.” Not bad for quick thinking.
“I can’t stop thinking about where we left off.”
Her voice was unsteady when she answered, “Neither can I.”
“Haley, have dinner with me.”
Haley closed her eyes; a thousand feelings sped through her. And every one of them was tied to Dylan Malone. She drew a deep, stabilizing breath. But his gentle coaxing voice sent her control spinning into the darkness of the cab and had her leaning into the phone as if the receiver were his soft, hot mouth. “Huh? Did we just go from sex to food?”
“You’re cute and confused when you’re tipsy,” he said, his voice dropping an octave and causing that familiar tingling sensation to erupt all over her body.
Haley remembered when she’d been intoxicated before in his presence. She’d ended up sleeping with him and probably having the most wonderful sex in her twenty-two years. “Slightly tipsy, and you keep changing the subject.”
“Haley…”
A beep sounded in her ear.
“Just a minute, Dylan. I have another call.” She pushed the correct button on her phone.
“Haley, you haven’t forgotten our arrangements?”
“Mom?” her voice squeaked out.
“Were you expecting someone else?”
Haley was groggily thinking that she’d just gone through this conversation. “You mean shopping for Uncle Albert’s birthday present?”
“Yes. Your sister and I will see you at ten and then we’ll lunch at Abernathy’s.” Her mother rarely took no for an answer and had trained Haley very well. That was perhaps why Haley was a straightforward carbon copy of her mother.
“Oh, Terry’s going. That’s great. See you at ten Saturday after next.”
She pushed the button again. “Dylan, as I was saying, how did we go from sex to food?” Haley heard nothing but an ominous crackling silence on the line. “Dylan?” Haley said hopefully.
“No, Haley. This is your mother.”
“Oh God,” Haley said softly. “I think I need a drink.”
“I’m no judge, but it seems to me, dear, you’ve had enough to drink.” Was that amusement in her mother’s voice?
“At this moment, Mother, it isn’t nearly enough.”
Her mother chuckled. “I’ll see you Saturday after next. What you do with food and/or sex is really your business.”
“Bye, Mom.”
Haley switched back to Dylan. “What were you saying about food, Dylan?” Just to be safe.
“I want to have dinner with you. People do it all the time. It’s called eating together.”
“I can’t think straight. I think I just offended my mother. Besides, we agreed. No strings attached.”
“Who said anything about strings? It’s just food and conversation.”
She’d said that to herself just before she caught him with another woman in Figaro’s.
“Haley, I have clients who make up their minds faster on ad campaigns when millions of dollars are at stake.”
Tightening her hold on the receiver, she closed her eyes against the sudden ache, with a very husky voice she spoke, “Dylan, I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Let’s just say I want to make amends for tonight. Can we just say that?”
“And you should make amends. Do you have an open-door policy on your apartment?”
“You mean Mandy and Laurel?”
“It’s really none of my business, but it got in the way of my deadline.”
Dylan laughed. “Mandy’s my neighbor and Laurel’s my sister.”
“That’s quick thinking, Dylan.”
“It’s true.”
“Whatever. I still have the fantasy to complete before Friday.” Haley couldn’t believe he was telling the truth, she remembered that coed who had been at his room waiting for him. He’d had some other excuse that night. Still, it didn’t make her want him any less. She needed her head examined.
“I thought you didn’t have to turn in your column until Monday.”
“There’s a problem and Kate needs it earlier this week.”
“Haley, we can work out the fantasy while we have dinner,” he coaxed, his voi
ce thick and deep on the other end of the line. She could listen to him talk all night.
“Do you usually talk your clients into million-dollar ad campaigns as skillfully?”
“Well, you are a tougher sell, but I do have your inebriation to aid me. I don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Say yes.”
She was weary and her defenses were down. Drat the alcohol swirling through her blood. Alcohol and lust were not a good combination to help her to keep a level head. Haley had fought the good fight, but lost in the end. “Yes. Now will you leave me alone?”
“Sweet dreams, Haley.” He disconnected the line and Haley in her foggy brain knew she’d done something wrong, but it didn’t feel wrong. How could it be wrong when she ached to be with him?
Once home, she brushed her teeth and got ready for bed with a heavy heart. She had been truthful with Dylan. She’d never dreamed that sex could be the way it had been between them. She slid beneath the sheets and set her alarm. She shouldn’t have had so much to drink. In fact, she hadn’t had this much to drink since that night with Dylan. Tomorrow she’d have a hangover and she still had to finish out this fantasy. Kate needed the copy by Friday and it was already Tuesday.
He’d said sweet dreams on the phone. Not likely. She’d have hot, sweaty, scorching dreams. She quickly slipped into a deep sleep, dreaming about strong hands, warm lips and a hard male body that smelled so good it should be a sin.
HALEY’S HEAD was pounding with an annoying regularity when she woke. There was a recollection tugging at the edge of her consciousness that did not seem as if it would be something she wanted to remember.
She turned over, digging deeper into her pillow. The alarm screamed in her ears as she groaned and frantically searched for the snooze button. But even though she depressed it several times, it continued to scream. Finally, she yanked the cord from the wall.
But the buzzing sound didn’t stop and she realized it was coming from her purse. She leaned over the edge of the bed, certain that her head was going to roll right off her shoulders. Then she’d have a hell of a time finding it. She giggled when she grabbed her purse. What was that niggling sensation at the back of her mind, telling her she’d done something last night that she would regret?
She opened her purse and dug around for the cell phone that just continued to chirp. She grabbed the offensive instrument and put it to her ear.
“What?” Haley was surprised that her voice came out as if she had rust in her throat.
“Haley?”
“Margo. Ohmigod. What time is it?” She looked at the poor clock on the floor. It mocked her. Shouldn’t have pulled me out of the wall, huh?
“It’s nine-thirty. I’ve been calling you for an hour and a half. I was beginning to get worried. Are you okay?”
Haley ran her hands through what she was sure was a fright wig and moaned. “I just drank too much last night. Is Kate asking about me?”
“No. She’s in her office. I was worried.”
She loosened her death grip on the cell phone. “I’m sorry I worried you. Can you cover for me for another hour while I take a quick shower and get dressed?”
“Sure, Haley. Are you positive you’re all right?”
“I am, but I’ll have to figure out when I can get this fantasy done, maybe tonight…” That niggling memory burst full-blown in her brain.
“Ohmigod.”
“What?”
“I agreed to go to dinner with him tonight.” She slapped herself in the forehead. “And I agreed to go shopping and have lunch with my mother after I offended her with sex talk.”
“Haley, get in the shower, get your butt here and explain to me what you’re talking about,” Margo pleaded.
THE RESTAURANT Dylan asked her to meet him at was beautiful, with a very romantic atmosphere. So why did she have this feeling that doom was descending? Maybe it was because she was making a grave mistake. This was a mistake, mistake, mistake.
Margo told her so when Haley relayed everything to her nosy co-worker when she’d finally arrived at work. But Margo had covered for her and Kate was none the wiser. Haley knew what she was in for when she’d proposed this scheme to Dylan. She had no right to whine about it now. She would have to take her lumps like a big girl.
The headache that had receded and then started up again was beginning to ease to a dull throb when Dylan appeared at the front door to the posh restaurant. A flutter started in her stomach and worked its way up into her throat. It had been raining outside and she could see that raindrops glinted in his hair like diamonds. He stopped at the coat check, and as he shrugged out of his raincoat, she sighed at the expanse of chest and shoulder revealed.
He was wearing a dark green suit the color of a dense, dark forest that only brought out the intensity of his mint-green eyes.
He moved with the audacious stride of a man who knew where he was going. He had sin and danger written all over him and his grin was enough to stop every heart from Manhattan to Los Angeles. That delicious grin was directed at her.
When he reached the table, he leaned over and gave her a soft hello kiss on the lips. Haley smiled at him as he sat.
“You look a little peaked,” he said.
“Headache.”
“I’m sorry,” he said softly, leaning over and brushing her temple with his thumb.
“Thanks. This is a nice place.”
“One of the senior partners recommended it. Were you able to smooth things with your mother?”
“I think so. Didn’t think it was prudent to tell my mom I’d propositioned you. Good thing my sister’s still in the dark. She’d be a little more persistent.”
“I know all about persistent, pushy sisters.” It was the way he was looking at her, his intense eyes watching every move she made that forced her to say the words.
“Besides. It’s not like you’ll be around for Christmas.” She could have kicked herself. Her voice had not come out as casual as she hoped and not nearly as light as she wanted to sound.
“You going to use me and throw me away, you heartbreaker?”
Even his attempt to keep it light failed. It made her uneasy. She didn’t need him bolting on her. Without him there would be no fantasy, and that would mean no column. She’d better be smart and remind him she didn’t expect any commitment. “We’re having a mutual good time. And a few weeks will bring us to the end of the deal, right?”
“Right.” He smiled, but the look in his eyes only got more intense. It seemed that her words had had the opposite effect on him. Maybe she should just shut up.
She picked up her menu and looked at the choices as he followed suit. She wanted those dark disturbing eyes off her for one moment. She was a coward to hide behind her menu, but she couldn’t help it. She was doing what her father told her often enough, keeping her eye on the ball. Why did it hurt so much?
“Malone. See you took my advice and decided to dine here.” The booming voice made Haley jump. She lowered her menu as Dylan rose.
“Mr. and Mrs. Westin. Nice to see you. And Marie.”
The tall, graying man looked over at Haley. “And who is this lovely young woman?”
Haley smiled.
“Your girlfriend?” Mrs. Westin asked with a false smile on her face.
“No! I mean…it’s…Haley Lawton, a friend. Haley, this is Mr. Donald Westin, president of Westin, Mayer and Martin, and his wife, Sylvia, along with Marie McLain, president of the NAPTA.”
Marie reached out and shook Haley’s hand. “Your name sounds very familiar. Are you on the radio?”
“No. I’m not. I’m a journalist.”
The woman frowned. “I know I’ve heard your name before, but I can’t remember where.”
“Are you one of the Westchester Lawtons?”
“No. I’m one of the Hillcrest Lawtons.”
“Hillcrest,” Donald Westin said, looking as if he’d gotten a whiff of a bad odor. “Isn’t that in New Jersey?”
Anger tightened in her chest,
constricting her throat. “Yeah. My dad’s a mailman, retired.”
It was obvious as Donald Westin gave Dylan a disapproving look that he thought Haley was quite an unsuitable companion to be dining with in this posh restaurant.
It was embarrassing to note that when she reached out to shake their hands, only Marie obliged. Experiencing a funny little cramp in her throat, she settled herself back into her chair.
“We were just about to order….” Dylan left the words hanging and pointedly took up his menu, and the Westins and their guest left.
Dylan put his hand over hers where it rested on the table. “I’m so sorry.”
“Talk about a lack of social graces.” She squeezed his hand. It wasn’t his fault that Donald Westin was a snob. “I hope that Marie didn’t recognize my name from the column.”
“Do you think she did?” Dylan asked.
“If you’d like to pull out now, I’ll understand. I don’t want to jeopardize your job.”
“No, Haley. I said I would do this, and I will.”
The meal progressed but Haley’s heart wasn’t in it.
“Haley, why don’t you come back to my loft for a little while,” Dylan suggested.
“No, Dylan. I think I’ll head home.”
“I’d really like to show you something. It won’t take long,” he said as he handed the waiter a credit card to pay the bill.
“I bet you would like to show me something, but not tonight. I’m not feeling well.”
“Haley, it doesn’t have anything to do with sex.” The waiter came back over with Dylan’s receipt.
Dylan assisted her with her chair and settled his hand in the middle of her back as he escorted her to the coat check. There he retrieved his raincoat and hers. The proprietary touch to her back afterward made her melt a little inside.
He cupped her face in his hands and tilted it up to his. “Come on.”
Why did she have to have a soft spot for a man like him? He doesn’t consider you the kind of person his class of people would approve of. She should feel better about the whole situation, since she could see the way Mrs. Westin had eyed her off-the-shoulder purple beaded dress. Now she’d confirm to her foolish, wayward heart that Dylan couldn’t want her in his life on a permanent basis. Besides, he was a skirt chaser anyway. That should make it even easier. So why didn’t it?