CardsNeverLie

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CardsNeverLie Page 17

by Heather Hiestand


  He blinked. In the heat of August and too many bodies packed together, she seemed more of a mirage than a real person. Mirages were always too good to be true. Maybe if he saw her more often, he’d be less inclined to stare. He counted. It had been too long—three days. “I missed you.”

  “What?” Melanie pushed a strand of shimmering gold hair behind her ear. A crease mark showed between her brows. The waiter came up and Melanie ordered a Thai iced tea and took the proffered menu.

  Rob cleared his throat. “It’s been a few days. I thought Saturday night would end differently.”

  At Melanie’s grimace, he said quickly, “It ended too quickly. We didn’t have a chance to make plans of any kind.”

  She nodded. “It got complicated.” A mental image of a man in a red latex devil suit flashed through Rob’s mind. An image of that man manacled to a pole kissing his Melanie.

  He frowned at the thought. “But you did what you wanted that night.” And he should have stopped her.

  “No, I wouldn’t say that.” She smiled at the waiter who brought her the glass of tea she’d ordered. “But I was there to help my career, not to have a good time.”

  Rob waved the waiter away and leaned forward. “So you admit we were having a good time?” He certainly had enjoyed himself. It had taken a real effort to time his whispers so that he could duck behind other partygoers, but putting her on edge had been worth it. She had been ripe for mischief, if only that damn Red Devil bastard hadn’t interrupted.

  Melanie glanced at a woman in an Indian-print summer dress next to them who was clearly eavesdropping. “Of course.”

  “You might have called,” he suggested.

  “Why?”

  Rob shrugged. What was he supposed to say? You could have called and said you were coming over for the roll in the sack you owed me? I was willing? I was available and where the hell were you? You left me alone with an erection and a bad memory of you and the skinny idiot in the devil costume. He swallowed. “Unfinished business.”

  Melanie took a sip of her tea. “It was a moment, Rob. Just a moment.”

  How could she look so calm and collected when he could feel a droplet of sweat beading down his spine? “So it didn’t mean anything to you?”

  “I went there for professional reasons. My career comes first.”

  “That’s obvious.” Rob shook his head. Speaking of professional reasons, this was supposed to be a meeting about Bombshell’s resignation. Bombshell seemed such a silly nickname now. He couldn’t understand how he’d ever found her attractive now that he’d met Melanie. Or any other woman, for that matter. Why couldn’t Melanie let him know if she wanted a relationship with him? And something more than just sex. He didn’t want a one-night stand, it wasn’t his style.

  Melanie knocked on the table, making Rob blink. “I don’t even have your phone number, you know.”

  “Brisa could have given it to you. All the employees have my number for emergencies.”

  “I suppose I could have done that,” Melanie said, waving the waiter over. They ordered Phad Thai and a green curry.

  Rob pulled out a pen and scribbled his phone number on a napkin. “Here.”

  “What is it?”

  “My number!”

  Melanie took it delicately and tucked it into her purse.

  “You could give me yours too,” Rob suggested.

  “I could,” Melanie responded, not moving a muscle.

  Frustrated with her ease, Rob read the drinks menu tucked into a plastic placard on the table. He pushed the salt and pepper shakers together.

  “Hello?”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m not sure what you want to hear.”

  He rewound their conversation, reluctant to start discussing their reason for being there, but wanting to skate past their recent exchange. He now felt like an idiot for offering his phone number. She might as well have torn it up for all the enthusiasm she had shown. “Why did your meeting go so late?” he remembered and asked.

  Melanie rubbed at her neck. He noticed her fingernails were painted a light peach. The nails were just long enough to scratch a man’s back in the heat of passion.

  “They’re trying to cut the cost of the new product.” She took another sip of her tea.

  “They? What is it?” Rob watched Melanie lick her lips and instantly the feel of her lips against his filled his senses. She couldn’t be too attached to the guy in the devil costume. Rob had thought he had a code about other men’s women. Do unto others and all that. What had gone wrong? A bit of the devil costume must have worn off on him.

  “I can’t talk about it. Really. If the slightest hint of anything regarding my products got out I could be fired. I think they’d cut my job if they could, but they need me.”

  Rob narrowed his eyes, barely noting the frustration in her voice. Was she sleeping with that pretty kid? Had she been hungry when she kissed him or was she just taking it all in, experimenting? Stop it! He forced himself to respond to this conversation he had no interest in. “So the new product is ready for market?”

  “There are a couple new ones, actually. And they’d be finished if the execs weren’t being so cheap. They want to cut out the jasmine in one, for instance. I know the essential oil is expensive but Professional Massage offers a high-end line.” Melanie’s voice rose, her frustration obvious. She stopped speaking and laced her fingers tightly together on the table.

  “Calm down,” Rob said, in his grandfather-soothing voice and used her agitation as an excuse to put his hands on hers. She felt cold. “I’m sure it will turn out all right.”

  Rob glared at the woman next to them who was glued to every word. She stared back for a moment to show she wasn’t scared of him then lowered her eyes.

  “I don’t see how.” Melanie’s cornflower blue eyes caught the light from the fixture above and seemed to glow. “If they haven’t even got the money to design a decent product, what on earth are they doing trying to buy your company?”

  Rob felt his muscles go slack with relief and realized he needed to pay attention. Maybe he did have time for a little business. “You think they can’t afford us?”

  “I don’t see how they could now. Of course I have no idea what LeatherWorks is worth. It sounds like the Professional Massage operational department has fixed the quality problems, so if we haven’t lost too much of our client base, we might have spare cash in six months or a year but—” She bit her lip. “We shouldn’t be talking like this. I mean, I shouldn’t. I’m just a first-level manager, you know. It’s all smoke and mirrors by the time information gets to my level.”

  Rob grinned and stroked his thumb down the back of her soft wrist. “That’s right. I remember taking Executive Smoke and Mirrors 101 when I became the CEO of LeatherWorks three years ago.” And if I had learned my lessons better, I might have smoked and mirrored you back to my place Saturday night.

  “Ha ha. At least you have a sense of humor. I’d rather work for someone who wasn’t a human slime mold.”

  “I’ve never liked your senior management,” Rob allowed. “But it’s going to be hard for me to cancel the sale. Grandfather has really gotten pumped since he got another offer, as if the sale is finally real to him. But Professional Massage made a better offer and it’s a local company.”

  “I guess we little people will have to wait and see.” Melanie tugged her hand away. “I didn’t mean you, of course.”

  “No,” Rob shook his head. “That’s exactly what I am. Just the CEO, not the owner.”

  Melanie leaned forward. Rob forced himself to raise his eyes above the cleavage she now exposed to him. “While you’re still in charge, Rob, can we talk about Brisa? Why you filled her position? Is your grandfather stabilized? I saw the woman you hired and she doesn’t look old enough to know her job.”

  “She’s an excellent nurse, Melanie. But Jack didn’t seem to be making any headway with getting Brisa back to work and Tida, well, I didn’t want her to get into t
rouble.”

  “Trouble?” Melanie’s eyes challenged him.

  “She came to me to audition for a modeling job. She was also talking to some sleazy producers, like Drew Huntley.” He watched Melanie shudder.

  “Exactly. You wouldn’t want me to let anyone throw themselves into that pit, would you? I was worried about the choices she might have made. She seemed desperate.”

  “Why get involved? She could be on drugs or something. Is it worth the risk?”

  Rob shook his head. “She’s trying to help out her sister with medical school. Besides, Grandfather likes her. Tida seems good with him. I don’t think Brisa had been happy for a long time. Grandfather’s tough.”

  “I know.” Melanie traced a pattern on the table with her finger. “I’ve heard.”

  Rob reached down under his chair and pulled out a manila envelope. “I talked to my Human Resources department and they gave me this information about a placement company. They do career counseling, set up interviews and so forth. They specialize in the medical field. LeatherWorks will pick up the bill for Brisa to use their services.”

  “That’s all you are offering her?”

  “No. I’m offering three weeks’ severance, one week for each year she worked for us, in thanks for her help with my grandfather. We are sorry to lose her, but it was her choice. Our lawyer will explain all of this to her tomorrow, but I wanted to let you know personally.” If only he could tell for sure if she thought of him as a good guy. He needed Melanie Vanderpool to like him, though he wasn’t sure why.

  Melanie nodded and leaned forward, touching him lightly on the back of his hand. “You made an effort, Rob. I appreciate it.”

  “I’m just trying to do the right thing. Before the company is sold.” He emphasized this last point, wanting her to realize how easy it would have been for him to stonewall her until it was too late.

  “That does seem to be your way, but what about the rest of your company?” Melanie folded her hands on the table. “How about some sensitivity training for the staff? After all, it could hurt your chances of getting another job if your company has a bad reputation. Companies have lost millions in these cases.”

  Rob frowned. He was losing momentum again. “Grandfather doesn’t believe in that kind of stuff.”

  “Who is running LeatherWorks? You or him?”

  “He ran the company for many years. I respect the principles upon which he built the business. But maybe you’re right. The staff could stand a refresher on Do Unto Others.” Rob ran his hand over the back of his head. “Let’s talk about something else, okay?”

  The waiter brought out their food and arranged it carefully on the table before leaving.

  “Like what?”

  “Like you. Tell me about yourself.”

  Melanie laughed as she tugged a spoonful of noodles onto her plate. “I’m the strong independent type. A modern type-A career gal.”

  “The kind who never gets herself into trouble?” Rob suggested with a grin.

  “The kind who prefers not to get herself into trouble unless she can take the heat,” Melanie corrected, taking a bite. “This is hot, isn’t it?”

  Rob waved his fork at her. “You haven’t even put any chili sauce on it yet!”

  “And you won’t catch me doing that either.” She swallowed then started to cough.

  Rob suddenly felt tired of the game they were playing. He had given her what she wanted. But he wanted something too. “So now what, Melanie? Are you going to call me sometime? Or are we just going to walk out of here tonight and end this?”

  Melanie’s eyes widened and she waved her hands frantically then grabbed her glass and took a big sip of her tea. Clearly the woman had no tolerance for three-star cuisine. “I’ve seen you in action,” she said, forking up some plain rice. “You aren’t perfect, but you’ve always been there when I needed you. And it sounds like you were trying to help Tida out of a rough spot. I have to respect you for that.”

  “So I’m not such a bad guy?” Had it taken her this long to figure that out?

  “I guess not,” she admitted, with her eyes on her noodles. She scraped off a bit of chili.

  “I’ll take that as a no.”

  She smiled and said nothing. Women.

  “Why don’t you call me later this week? I’ll take you out this weekend. We could even get away somewhere.”

  “It’s soon for that. We’re in the real world now.”

  Rob grinned, knowing what she meant. They had left the realm of fantasy behind. “I think we both know what will happen if we ever get some time alone together. That is, if you aren’t seeing anyone else?”

  The expression that flitted across Melanie’s face was one of those Mona Lisa grins. “There was a time when I was hoping I could make you jealous, but Tommy Joe isn’t anyone I take seriously. He’s a puppy.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah. The Brisa thing is settled, right?”

  “Sure it is.” Rob set down his fork. He had no appetite.

  “Is there any chance you’ll stay on when Professional Massage takes over?”

  Rob shook his head. Why would she ask that? “None. Grandfather would throw a fit. He wants me out of the business entirely.”

  “It’s better that way, for us, I mean. The Tommy Joe thing just happened—he only cares about work. It just got mixed up a little bit. But you and I—”

  “Yes?” He prompted her.

  “I guess I might be hopeful.” She offered him a tentative smile.

  “We only met two weeks ago,” Rob cautioned.

  “I know, but you’d agree there were possibilities, right?”

  “‘Though I am different from you/We were born involved in one another’,” he quoted. Wasn’t that the truth.

  “That’s so sweet,” Melanie said, her eyes glowing. “Who said that?”

  “T’ao Ch’ien.”

  “Wow. Kind of obscure.”

  “I have that kind of brain.”

  “Impressive. I’m ready to turn to mush for a guy who can talk sweet nothings in my ear,” she teased.

  Rob leaned forward. “Sweet is my middle name.”

  * * * * *

  Rob pulled into the semicircular drive in front of his grandfather’s Laurelhurst mansion. If there had ever been a time to talk his grandfather out of selling LeatherWorks, it was now. He had a solid reason to dissuade him, thanks to Melanie Vanderpool.

  He opened his door and swung out his legs then stood, straightening out the wrinkles. He buttoned the top button of his shirt and straightened his tie. Appearances make the man, his grandfather always said.

  Winter, his grandfather’s manservant, opened the door as always.

  “Is Mr. Black available for visitors?” Rob asked. It didn’t pay to be informal in this environment.

  “I will ascertain that, sir,” Winter said without a hint of humor. He nodded his long, dour head to Rob and went through a door on the left.

  His grandfather had moved his bedroom to the main floor of his house a couple of years ago since osteoarthritis had taken its toll on his joints. He was nearly eighty-three now and usually felt every day of it.

  Rob glanced around the foyer. The picture of his mother looking like a forties movie star still sat, dust free, on the Chinese cabinet that rested upon the tastefully muted marble floor, Louis XVI chairs on either side. They were reproductions, but Rob knew from experience that Winter would frown if he returned to find Rob sitting on one of them.

  When Winter returned, he motioned to Rob.

  The first person Rob saw when he entered his grandfather’s office was Tida. In the past, when he’d seen Brisa in that old-fashioned, starched nurse’s uniform, his heart had skipped a beat. Seeing Tida there just made him glad. One woman saved from Drew Huntley. But it didn’t really make him even with that evil man. Brisa must have been Honey Luscious. The next time he saw Anita he’d get the truth out of her, but how many women could there be out there that looked like the Va
nderpool cousins? His fists clenched involuntarily at the idea of Brisa in the clutches of Huntley and his kind. Thank God she had escaped.

  “Mr. Black,” Tida said with a smile and held out her hand to shake. A new mantle of dignity seemed to have come to rest on her since she took the job, but she didn’t like to listen to the Blacks’ meetings. Brisa had never been shy about hearing LeatherWorks business, though she had never expressed an opinion, but Tida liked to duck out.

  She wouldn’t be able to do that today though. Rob could see this wasn’t one of his grandfather’s good days.

  “How are you, sir?” he asked his grandfather, who sat behind a large mahogany desk, looking old and tired.

  “Can’t complain, son,” John Black said with a cough. “What brings you here? It’s not our usual day. Are you here for a look at my new dolly?”

  “Grandfather,” Rob said sharply. “This is the sort of talk that just cost LeatherWorks thousands.”

  “She thought she was too good for me, that one,” the old man wheezed, “despite being a single mother. If I was forty years younger, well, I’dve had her.”

  Rob glanced at Tida, who stood against a wall by the back door out of the room. Her face betrayed no emotion, but as he watched, her hand came up and touched the back of her hairline, as if to make sure her bun hadn’t come down.

  “I am surprised, though, Robert, that you hired me an ethnic girl. It’s a nice change, I suppose.” John Black blinked several times.

  “Grandfather? Is it time to test your blood sugar?”

  “No,” Tida replied. “He took a very short nap this morning. He is tired.”

  “Don’t talk about me like I’m not here, young woman. My grandson directed that question to me.”

  Tida bowed her head. Rob winked in her direction, hoping she didn’t take Grandfather’s crotchety ways personally.

  “Do you have time for a chat?” Rob asked.

  John Black sent a dark look in Tida’s direction. “No opinion on that, young lady?” His speech was a little slurred. “No? Why then, yes, I do have time for a chat.”

  “I will make up the bed,” Tida said.

  “No.” Rob held up his hand. He didn’t like the look of Grandfather today. He wanted his nursing assistant handy. “Stay.”

 

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