by Claire Adams
The charming toasts and stale jokes of the awards dinner began and I found it hard to concentrate on anything. I had somehow sat so I had to either turn towards the podium or sit staring straight ahead at Rainer. Through a few shifting gaps of other people, his smiling face would appear and give me a little jolt. He chatted with people at his table, laughed in support of whomever was at the podium, and lounged in his chair looking completely at ease.
"Ms. Nichols, is there anything I can get you?" Topher asked in a hushed tone.
"No, I'm fine. And you can stop asking," I told my assistant.
He shook his head. "You look unhappy. They're about to take a break if you'd like to switch tables. Maybe something with an easier view?"
Topher meant of the stage, but he had no idea how apt his suggestion was for me. I couldn't help but stare at Rainer, and the more I did, the more I felt the tug of attraction. If I was seated somewhere else, maybe I could better concentrate on the awards being given out.
The next presenters had a slideshow, and I took to swirling my wine and then trying to place it on the table in the exact same position. Topher eyed me with worry, but I shook my head at him. I was fine and didn't need to move.
It didn't matter that the table directly behind Rainer was half-empty. I could face the podium and see my fill of the back of his head.
Rainer would turn around, toss some funny comment over his shoulder, and we'd laugh. Just like in meetings at the community garden when his funny little asides were for my ears only. I imagined us finishing off the dull awards speeches sitting side by side and highly entertained.
It was tempting, and for a moment I sat up to signal Topher. Then I thought of Rainer's impending nuptials and slumped back in my seat. I might miss his banter, but I had no right to it. We didn't even work together anymore. I turned my chair with a loud scrape and concentrated on the slideshow.
For all of thirty seconds before I glanced across the room and saw Rainer looking back at me.
His look was intense, solidifying his easy smile into something serious. Rainer considered me the way a predator might stare at prey that once escaped. I shifted in my seat and was glad when a round of applause ended the long slideshow.
From then on, I resolved not to look at Rainer. Instead, I scanned the room again, wondering if perhaps his fiancée came late and was waiting politely for the break in order to join him. Ellison knew how to make an entrance, and I expected to see her when I turned around.
She wasn't there. In fact, Rainer hadn't mentioned her. And neither did Topher. Why would my very detailed assistant offer to make us reservations for two? Shouldn't Rainer be off to meet his fiancée as quick as he could escape?
No. I was being too romantic. Ellison Ramsey most likely had some fancier and more expensive charity event to attend. Rainer was at this grassroots event out of the kindness of his heart. I had to ignore the small voice that said perhaps he came on the off-chance that I would attend as well.
The woman seated next to me waited until the applause subsided then she leaned over with a conspiratorial smile. "That Rainer Maxwell is easy on the eyes, isn't he?" she asked.
I swirled my wine glass too much and almost spilled. "Yes, I suppose he is."
"Oh, dear, there is no supposing about it. Just look at him. I don't blame you for letting your gaze stray that way a few times." She patted my arm.
"We used to work together," I tried to explain, but it sounded like such a weak excuse.
My table mate laughed. "Well, then you must know his reputation."
Irritation stiffened my spine on Rainer's behalf. "What reputation is that?" I asked.
"He's easy on the eyes but tough on the heart," the woman informed me. "I've heard him linked with at least five different one-night stands."
I frowned. "Rainer Maxwell is engaged to be married. His fiancée would thank you to leave his past in the past."
"Engaged?" The woman clasped my arm. "You mean that whole thing with Ellison Ramsey? Oh, most people just think that was a publicity stunt. After he turned down the position that was tailor-made for him, I hear she was so mad she left for Europe."
"Wait." I clasped my table mate’s arm on mine. "Are you saying that he and Ellison Ramsey are not engaged to be married?"
The woman must have seen the fevered look in my eyes because she backtracked. "Well, one never knows with these tabloid types."
"Haven't the papers announced their wedding date?"
She pried my hand off hers and edged away from me to the opposite side of her chair. "It's hard to tell what's publicity and what's real. I don't really know Mr. Maxwell. I'm just speculating for fun."
I forced a laugh and spit out some Hollywood tabloid I had seen in the market the other day. The woman smiled and nodded, but did not relax again. I excused myself to get another glass of wine. Two volunteer servers and Topher jumped to help me, but I waved them back.
The next presenters were local law enforcement giving awards to exceptional and caring community members. I forced myself to concentrate on their heartfelt and real message as I stood near the beverage table. Only by concentrating on each and every word could I stop the room from doing wild swoops in my head.
Rainer was not engaged? He was not going to marry Ellison?
Instead of letting the weight of those questions knock me over, I grabbed another glass of wine.
"Can you believe he's actually here? I mean, when I first saw him I thought I was hallucinating." A trio of women approached the beverage table.
They spoke in quiet tones as the awards speeches continued, but I could hear every word. The taller woman glanced at Rainer's table and said, "You think he's really going the charitable route or is this all a way to recover from his failed relationship with Ellison Ramsey?"
I finished my wine and got in line behind the women.
"Who cares," the first woman said. "If he's here alone, then I say he's fair game."
"Janice, he's a playboy!"
"Exactly," said Janice.
I wanted to stop them and speak out on Rainer's behalf. It was clear from their admiring glances that it was my Rainer they were looking at. I stopped myself and took a step back. My Rainer? Why did I feel it was my job to tell them they had the wrong impression of him?
Rainer's reputation, his relationship status, and even his current work situation were none of my business.
"I hear he's not even that good of a businessman. His biggest windfall was all someone else's work," Janice's friend said with a disapproving frown.
"As Rainer's colleague at Hyperion, I can assure you that is not true," I told the trio of women.
They stepped back with googly eyes and the volunteer server took that opportunity to hand me another glass of wine. "Mr. Maxwell seems very nice to me," the server said.
I raised my glass to the young volunteer and then almost spilled the entire contents down my silk sundress. "Berger! What are you doing sneaking up on me?!"
Berger didn't bother to hide his wide grin. "Just chipping away at the ice, you know," he said. He waited until the gossipy women returned to their table. "Though it seems like someone else has beaten me to it. Did I just hear you defending Rainer?"
"Are you crashing this awards dinner?" I asked Berger.
He grinned again. "I heard some of my old Hyperion cronies were in the vicinity, so I just had to stop by."
I narrowed my eyes at him but said, "It's nice to see you stateside. The last I heard you were off to Paris."
"I was," Berger said. "And it was all cafe drinks and beautiful parties until the Ramseys came to town. Did you know that Ellison Ramsey not only speaks French, but also Italian and even some Arabic? She completely blew me away at an art auction. I almost lost my whole fortune just to keep hearing her translate art titles for me."
I blinked, confused, until I saw Berger catch himself and turn self-consciously towards the beverage table. The volunteer server handed him a drink right away, but he took his time turnin
g back around.
"So, how have things been here?" Berger asked.
"Not as exciting as an art auction with Ellison Ramsey," I said.
Berger's eyes flitted over to Rainer's table. "She wasn't the only American society I saw."
"Just the only one who mattered."
"Now, wait, Tasha, don't get the wrong idea—"
I pressed a hand to Berger's rapidly beating heart. "Don't worry; I won't say anything. Not that it matters, right? I mean, it's not like Ellison is spoken for or anything. Is it?"
He shooed me back and brushed off his silk tie. "It's just nice seeing familiar faces when you're overseas."
"All right, fine," I said, feeling better than I had all night. "So, how do you like being home?"
Berger was relieved to step back into his regular role. "I'm bored already. I don't know what you did to Rainer when you two worked together, but now he's all work, work, work. You managed to turn our best party boy into the most boring and responsible drone bee."
"You're blaming me?" I asked.
"Nothing else explains it. One day he's fine and planning pranks to play on the golf course. Then he signs on to your project. Next thing I know he's over in the East Bay doing all this good work, and he barely has time to grab a drink," Berger complained.
"I don't see how that has anything to do with me," I said.
Berger chuckled and rubbed his hands together. "Now the tables have turned."
"Stop," I said. "Whatever wild speculation you are going to make up, I don't want to hear it. Rainer isn't the set-up to some bad joke. And I'm not your punchline anymore."
All jest disappeared from Berger's eyes. "Actually, that's what I was stopping by here to say. I'm sorry that I did not appreciate your hard work more when we were at the same company."
"Wait, what?" I spoke too loudly, and a few people glanced back at us.
Berger sighed. "The truth is that I got bored in Europe. All the parties and the jet-setting. I went all over but never seemed to be getting anywhere, you know?"
"You missed work," I said.
He nodded, almost embarrassed. "And I figured that was your influence too. After all those days of watching you go, go, go, I just wasn't content to sit around."
A light bulb went on in my head. "Well, maybe we should sit down during office hours and talk about what kind of work you'd like to be doing."
Berger shook my hand and then the mischievous light sprang back into his eyes. "I'd love that, I really would. Now, I've got to go comfort my old bachelor friend. We'll talk soon, Tasha. Thank you."
I watched Berger weave his way through the tables and take the empty seat I had been tempted by. When Topher appeared by my side, I couldn't hide my thoughts. "Should I have told Rainer congratulations? Isn't he still engaged to be married?" I asked.
Topher shook his head, relieved to finally be able to speak on the subject. "No! He was never even engaged in the first place. And I know for a fact that he never plans on proposing to Ms. Ramsey at all."
Topher's answer was so decisive that I berated myself for not asking months ago. Then it sank in: Rainer was single.
Chapter Nineteen
Rainer
I instructed my driver to drop me off around the block, telling him I wanted to grab a coffee or some nonsense, and I waited until the sleek SUV disappeared before I started walking. Tasha's new office was in the center of downtown Oakland. Businesses were slowly returning to the vibrant little city, and I was impressed that she had picked a place with such a good vibe.
There was a coffee shop in the lobby of her building, and I took a minute to review its menu of fresh-roasted coffee and artisanal chocolate. A woman smiled at me over her laptop, and I realized I was staring off into space. I was stalling.
I edged down the block and entered the building's main lobby. Marble walls and gold-leaf spoke to the building's historic status, and I was tempted to sit down and admire it. Instead, I opted to take the stairs to Tasha's top floor offices.
As I climbed, I wondered how on earth Tasha had convinced Stan to open up shop in such a neighborhood. He had deep San Francisco roots, and I didn't foresee him traveling across the bay every day. I pushed open the door on the top floor and got my answer: the new company sign featured Tasha's name, which meant Stan was planning to retire.
The receptionist nodded to me and then glanced back with a widening smile. She smoothed down the front of her silk blouse and gave her lipstick a quick lick. "Hello, I'm Amber. Is there anything I can help you with?"
I didn't know whether to be pleased or irritated. It had been nice staying out of the tabloids, but people still recognized me, especially in the business world. Either the receptionist was going to have to study names and faces better, or Tasha would find her a new position.
"Just admiring the view," I said. I winked at the receptionist and then turned to look out the large arched windows.
Oakland traffic streamed past far below, and from the top floor, I could see Jack London Square. It was a view worth admiring, but I was stalling again. It was my last chance to head back to the elevators before someone I knew spotted me. What was I doing at Tasha's office anyway?
If I was being honest, Tasha and I didn't know each other that well. Not well enough for a random drop by. I could take the 'just in the neighborhood' route, but I knew Tasha wouldn't fall for it. The last thing I wanted to do was put her on edge or make her suspicious.
It had taken me long enough to get past her suspicions the first time.
"Rainer Maxwell, good to see you," a voice boomed.
I turned around and had my hand crushed in a vice-like shake. "Otto. I didn't expect to see you here," I said.
The former Hyperion head of security clapped me on the shoulder and finally released my aching hand. "I could say the same about you."
"I'm just wondering how Tasha got Stan Eastman to set up shop in Oakland," I said.
Otto chuckled. "Oh, he put up a fight. Though I think this was his plan all along. You know he's retiring soon, right? I think all he wanted to do was encourage Ms. Nichols to find her own way."
I followed Otto across the reception lobby and through the double doors to the outer offices. "So, Tasha is the brains behind all of this."
Otto swelled with pride. "She's a great boss. Good atmosphere here. I like it. You would too."
I stopped in the hallway. "What do you mean?"
"Nothing." Otto shrugged, but his gaze was shrewd. "You and Ms. Nichols made a good team."
"You don't have to sound so shocked," I said.
Otto laughed again. "I'm serious. She wouldn't have been brave enough to salvage the GroGreen project if it hadn't been for you pushing her. And she wouldn't have gotten into community development. I've been to see that garden, you know."
I glanced away, not wanting him to see that I had just come from visiting the garden we helped plant. "So, Tasha took you away from San Francisco, huh?" I asked.
Otto snorted and led me towards the executive offices. "Mr. Eastman insisted, with a very nice raise. Plus, I live over in Richmond and love the shorter commute."
I sighed. "All you East Bay people."
"Bet you wouldn't mind ending up here yourself," Otto said. He stopped and gave me another measuring look. "Maybe there's another project Ms. Nichols could include you in."
"No, no, I'm not here looking for a job." As soon as I said it, I knew it was the wrong thing to say.
Otto's eyes gleamed with speculation. "Well, don't let me get in your way. Ms. Nichols' office is just over there."
I shook hands with the head of security again and then headed in the direction he pointed. The office was an open floor plan with a swath of cubicles running down the center. The offices on the side were almost entirely walled in with glass to let in the light. A large conference room dominated the far wall, flanked on either side by larger executive offices.
Tasha's was on the left with a dramatic backdrop of Oakland towers and roofs beh
ind it. She had pulled back the heavy linen curtains to allow the entire office to see inside. I was certain that watching Tasha put in a full day of work motivated every single person within sight.
She was pacing back and forth while talking on her phone, and when she glanced up, I froze. Her coppery hair caught the sunlight streaming through the windows. The sleek, dove-gray business suit she wore hugged her body in the way only tailor-made clothes could. She looked every inch the powerful CEO, and I would have felt better with a folder or report or something to show her.
"Rainer?" Berger hailed me from behind a cubicle. "I thought that was you."
He wove around the cubicles and cut off my view of Tasha.
I shook his hand. He continued to block my view of Tasha's office. "So, no more jet-setting through Europe?"
"I got bored," Berger said with a shrug.
I crossed my arms over my chest. "I doubt that. Didn't you see Ellison in Paris? I heard you were both there at the same time. She didn't have one hundred and one parties for you to attend?"
Berger adjusted his tie and studied the pattern in it. "I did see Ellison, but she was busy," he said.
"I suppose her parties aren't really your kind of thing and vice versa." I tried to inch past Berger, but he was determined to chat.
"I attended as many as I could stand," Berger said. "But I don't think she noticed."
I blinked a few times in surprise. "And you couldn't catch the notice of any other woman in France?"
Berger looked relieved when a man in a plain suit interrupted us. "Mr. Berger, here is your packet from HR. Please let me know if you have any questions. And congratulations again, sir."
The man hurried away back to work and Berger gave me a funny half-smile, half-cringe. "You probably have a few questions, huh?"
I watched the man race through the cubicles. "First off, I want to know why he called you 'sir.' He must not know who you are."
Berger smacked me with his heavy packet of paperwork. "I'm getting all respectable now, and I blame you," he said.