by Janet Dailey
"But there isn't any other way," Ann protested. "What kind of risk would they be taking! After all, they would be buying the house."
"And it could turn into a white elephant, as it has for me."
Her decision was final. Further protests, mostly from Ann, couldn't change her from the course she knew to be right. The little etchings of relief around Adam's eyes when the decision was finally accepted made her glad that she hadn't given in to her friend's generosity. Rather than inflict any more gloom on the gathering, Lainie made the first move to leave, picking up her gold leather bag and rising from the table. The other three had no choice but to follow suit.
"Stop looking at me as if I were some lost, stray kitten tossed out in the blizzard," she teased as a very dejected Ann stared mournfully at her.
"But what are you going to do?" Ann persisted.
Lainie couldn't meet her friend's beseeching gaze. Another decision had been forming in her mind, but it still wasn't firm enough to bear up under the vocal abuse that Ann would give it. Her pride had stopped her once before, but under different circumstances. Now the situation was critical. And the question was whether she could afford to let her pride stand in her way again. The answer only she herself could give.
"I want to go check on mother again." Lainie reached out for her friend's hand. "I can't thank you all enough for what you tried to do."
"You make it sound as if we were offering some great sacrifice." Now it was Ann's turn to tease the solemn expression on Lainie's face. "When it's for people you care about, it's never a sacrifice."
"If you women are going to get sloppy, I'm going home," Adam announced.
"Men!" Ann sighed in exasperation, rolling her eyes significantly at Lainie. "I suppose I'll have to take him home."
Lee's arm encircled Lainie's waist as she exchanged a chorus of good-byes with Ann and Adam. After they had left, her head rested just for a second on his shoulder, enjoying the comfort of his arms. When she glanced up to his gentle blue eyes, his adoration was there for her to see. She wished briefly that he would bestow one of those tender, warm kisses on her lips, but she knew his sense of propriety wouldn't allow him to give such a caress in a public place.
"How are you getting home?" he asked.
"I have the car," Lainie replied softly.
"Would you like me to follow you?"
"No, I don't know how long I'll be."
By unspoken agreement they left the coffee shop and, headed toward the elevator that would take her to her mother's floor. He pushed the button and almost simultaneously the door to the elevator opened. Lainie stepped inside, then turned to face Lee. His hand reached out and captured a brown curl, and lingered on her cheek.
"If you need me..." he said softly.
Lainie smiled and nodded. His hand moved away and the elevator doors closed, blocking out the fair hair and the strong, silent face.
The curtains were still drawn, wrapping her mother in an insecure cocoon, but Lainie knew that the fitful drug induced sleep could hardly be called restful. She stood for many silent moments at the foot of her mother's bed, staring at the still daintily feminine form and the lines of pain that creased the once perfect features.
Walking slowly out of the room, Lainie paused at the nurses' office, making sure that they had her telephone number in case she was needed during the night. Leaden feet carried her down and out to the parking lot where her car was parked. The person who climbed behind the wheel was an automaton of herself, mechanically making the correct turns that would take her home, while her conscious mind remained with her mother.
As she inserted her key in the front door lock, Lainie knew there was no way she could harden her heart to her mother's plight. Once inside, she leaned against the heavy oak door without bother to switch on the light in the foyer. She made her way through the half darkness to the door of the den, opened it, stepped inside, and switched on the light. Her eyes focused on the telephone on the desk as she removed her coat and placed it with her bag on the leather sofa. Never taking her eyes off the black object, she walked around and seated herself behind the walnut desk. Her heart kept saying tomorrow and her mind kept saying now. Her hand reached out slowly, then almost snatched the black receiver from its cradle. She was shaking all over and the blood was hammering in her ears, but she willed her trembling fingers to dial Rad's number. Her hard-fought courage nearly deserted her when Sondra answered the phone, yet somewhere she gathered the nerve to ask for Rad.
"Who should I say is calling?" The cold distaste in Sondra's voice grated on Lainie.
"This is a personal call," she replied with the same amount of coldness.
She sensed the hesitancy on the opposite end of the line and realized there must have been just the right air of authority in her own voice to make Sondra unsure.
"I'll see if Mr. MacLeod is available." The line went silent except for a distant mumble of voices. The seconds seemed to be minutes and again Lainie fought the desire to replace the receiver on the hook.
"MacLeod here." Her heart lodged in her throat at the sound of the masculine voice. "Hello?" Rad repeated when Lainie failed to reply.
For a moment she was afraid she wasn't able to speak. Then finally she breathed, "It's Lainie."
This time there was silence on his end of the line. She thought he might have broken off the connection.
"Yes?" His voice was coolly impersonal.
"I...I wanted to discuss something with you," Lainie stuttered.
There was another pause. "I'll be free in half an hour. I'll send a car for you."
"No!" Her cry was instantaneous. She was suddenly afraid to face him. She wanted time to think before she met him again. "I mean, it's not that important. It can wait until tomorrow."
"In half an hour," Rad repeated firmly. Then the dial tone told her he had hung up. For ten minutes she tried to call him back, but the line was busy. Some inner sense told her that he had taken the phone off the hook, and that angered her. Rad knew her too well, therefore he wasn't going to give her the opportunity to back out once she had made the initial move. She could imagine the smug smile that must have been on his face when she identified herself. It was probably giving him immense satisfaction that she was the one who was running to him, after she had previously thrown his offer back in his face. If he thought she was coming there to eat humble pie, he was mistaken! She wasn't going begging with a lowered head. Lainie glanced down at her tailored suit and knew it didn't give her the sophistication and poise necessary to meet Rad.
There wasn't much time left before the car was due to arrive. Knowing Rad, it would be there promptly. Her mind was already picking out the dress she would wear as she hurried up the stairs to her room. It was a deep ocher gold knit with long sleeves and a cowled neckline. It molded the angles brought on by her loss of weight and changed them into curves. With it she would wear the fake leopard-skin coat with the black fur collar and hem, Lainie decided, removing it from her wardrobe along with the dress. With lightning speed she changed her clothes and freshened her makeup. She was just debating whether to put her hair up when the doorbell rang downstairs. She had no choice; she had to leave it down. It suited her better that way. Slipping the spotted coat over her shoulders, she dashed down the stairs. She took a deep breath to calm her racing pulse before opening the door. She expected to see Rad standing in the doorway, but he wasn't.
"Mrs. MacLeod?" the stranger in the blue uniform inquired.
"Yes," Lainie answered a trifle breathlessly.
The man extended his identification to her, which verified that he was Ralph Mason, employed by MacLeod Incorporated. "Mr. MacLeod told me to take you to him," he explained, moving to the side of the door so that Lainie could precede him to the black limousine parked in the driveway.
The chill that whispered over her skin had nothing to do with the brisk night air. It was caused solely by her coming meeting with Rad MacLeod. Perversely she wished Rad had met her instead of sending someon
e in his place. She slipped into the back seat, nodding politely at the man before he closed the door behind her. The world outside the car windows seemed an alien place with intermittent beams of streetlights, blinding flashes of oncoming car headlights, and blinking neon signs. Occasionally people would be seen on the pavements, their mouths moving as they exchanged conversation, but no sound penetrated the luxury car. Lainie huddled deeper in the corner, pulling the coat around her face so that the silky fine fur brushed her cheeks.
Why was she going to see Rad? Hadn't he told her that the offer might not remain open? Lainie would rather have had their discussion take place over the telephone, which was probably the reason Rad had cut her off. He was no doubt deriving some sadistic pleasure from having her make this tension-filled journey across town so that he could refuse to help her when she arrived. Another chill of apprehension swept over her as she remembered something else he had said.
"The conditions might not remain the same." What could he have meant by that? If it was security or collateral he wanted, Lainie decided she could always put up the house. The car made a sharp turn, jerking her thoughts back to the present.
"Where are we going?" She glanced around, not recognizing the route they were taking. "This isn't the way to the house."
"House?" The man's glance in the rearview mirror was curious. "Mr. MacLeod doesn't live in a house. He lives in an apartment. It's just a few more blocks, ma'am."
"I see." Lainie couldn't stop an embarrassing flush of color from filling her cheeks. "Has he lived there long?" She was startled by the news that Rad no longer lived in their house on the outskirts of Denver in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains.
"Since before I came," the chauffeur replied, "which is nearly three years ago."
There was a smile playing at the corner of the man's mouth, as if he were secretly amused that she didn't even know where her husband lived. But it was more upsetting to know that Rad hadn't bothered to tell her that he had moved. It would have saved her from making a fool of herself.
True to his word, minutes later the chauffeur halted the car under the canopied entrance of a tall building. Leaving the motor running, he got out of the car, walked around to Lainie's side and opened the door for her. The barest gleam of amusement was in his eyes as he motioned toward the large glass doors.
"The elevator is to your right, ma'am," he said. "The penthouse."
Lainie clamped her lips together tightly and nodded. The chauffeur touched his cap, walked back around the car and drove away. She walked slowly toward the doors, pushed them open and turned to the right toward the elevator. There she hesitated, knowing she could turn around and go home if she chose. But that wasn't the reason she had come. Once she had stepped inside the elevator and the doors had closed behind her, she stared unblinkingly at the top button that would take her to Rad's apartment. She pushed it quickly, hating the way her hand shook and hating even more the flutterings in her stomach. Silently she was zoomed upward and brought gently to a stop at the top floor.
The elevator doors stretched open and she stepped through into a richly paneled foyer accented by double doors of carved black walnut. Lainie felt as if she was going through an obstacle course. Her knees trembled as she ordered them to take her to the door. She pushed the button on the brass doorbell and heard the answering buzz sound inside the apartment. If Sondra was still there, she thought rebelliously, she would turn around and walk back out of the apartment.
There was a click and then the doors swung open. There was another stranger standing in front of Lainie. She nearly sighed in exasperation. She identified herself to the man in the black suit and he immediately stepped aside and allowed her to enter. At least Rad was not going to leave her standing in the foyer, she decided. The black walnut doors were closed behind her and she heard the click of a lock. She cast a startled glance at the man who had greeted her.
"We keep the doors locked at all times, ma'am,"' he explained. "Otherwise anyone could get into the elevator and come to the top floor, and gain entrance to the apartment without us knowing it."
Lainie knew she should have realized the logic in that, but it seemed as if her avenue of escape had been blocked. She didn't have time to dwell on the discovery, as the man was already walking ahead of her and indicating that she should follow. He paused at an open archway of a room.
"Mr. MacLeod will join you shortly," he said.
So she was destined to wait again. Lainie sighed, stepping into the room. Her suede heels made almost no sound as they sunk into the plush white carpeting. Her almond-shaped hazel eyes roamed over the room, stunned by the unusual color combination that was almost modernistic. Yet there was nothing really modernistic about the furnishings, only the colors that were used-white, gray, and black.
The walls were creamy white interspersed with beams of black walnut, with cross beams of black walnut on the ceiling. In the center of the opposite wall, flanked by floor-to-ceiling white draperies, was an enormous fireplace of richly polished gray stone. Two plushly cushioned sofas covered in matching gray velvet with large throw pillows of black and gray faced each other in front of the fireplace. Between them was a large rectangular coffee table, again of black walnut. Other plumply cushioned side chairs were in a deeper shade of gray, also accompanied by tables of black walnut. Scattered around the room were statues, a blend of contemporary and ancient design, but all of metal. Indirect lighting was concealed in the ceiling beams, adding to the cozy luxury and elegance of the room. The daring decor fascinated Lainie as she reveled in the spaciousness afforded by the light colors and the opulence of the lush materials. Yet piercing through the aesthetic facade of beauty was the reminder that this was essentially a masculine room. There was a quicksilver feeling of seductiveness and virility to it that made her apprehensive.
The back of her neck began tingling. Although she hadn't heard a sound, Lainie knew that Rad had entered the room. She steeled herself to remain calm as she turned to look at him. As she met his dark gaze, her determination was dissolving at the same pace as her legs. He was so compellingly handsome standing there just inside the archway, wearing black trousers that fitted tautly over his thighs.
But it was the rich coral-colored silk shirt with its bloused sleeves, wide-pointed collar and open neckline that complemented his own dark features and gave him an air of roguish good looks. The warm color of his shirt suddenly made the room come alive, pervaded by his vitality. Lainie turned back toward the fireplace as one side of Rad's mouth twisted with a humorless smile. She knew the color had left her cheeks, just as she knew that he had disturbed her more than she wanted to admit. She had to get control of herself, or flee.
Lainie was conscious again of Rad's movement. Without looking, she knew it was not in her direction. She grasped at these moments of reprieve. There was a tinkling of ice in glasses and the sound of pouring liquid. In her mind's eye she remembered the tiny alcove as she had stepped through the archway and the carved black walnut bar in its recesses. Then there was silence. Lainie cursed the carpeting that so completely muffled the sound of footsteps so that she had no way of knowing exactly where Rad was unless she looked. Thankfully there was the tinkling of ice in a glass just a few feet behind her, which warned her he was approaching. Now that she knew she had to fight her awareness of him, she was able to turn toward the sound with a hard grip on her emotions.
"You looked in need of something to drink." Rad extended toward her a classically simple glass of clear liquid brightened by a twist of lime.
Lainie took the glass hesitantly, carefully avoiding touching his hand. The sparkle in his eyes bespoke his amusement at her childish gesture. She moved away, sipping quickly at the drink and letting the potency of the vodka return the color to her face.
"Well?"
"It's a very beautiful room." Lainie knew that wasn't the response he wanted, but it was all she could say. She wasn't quite ready to tell him the reason for her visit, even though she knew he was aware o
f it.
"I'm glad you don't find it colorless." Rad was laughing at her.
Her nervous steps had taken her to the fireplace, where she was forced to turn around. Rad was sitting on the sofa, an arm stretched out across the back as he studied her with amusement. He was in command of the situation and totally at ease, and that knowledge made Lainie even more uncomfortable. The room seemed suddenly oppressively warm, and Lainie realized she was still wearing her coat. With an attempt at a poise she didn't feel, she unbuttoned her coat and shrugged it back across her shoulders.
"Mr. Dickerson!" Rad called out. Almost instantly the man who had greeted Lainie appeared in the doorway. "Would you take Mrs. MacLeod's coat?"
With a tight smile of discomfort, Lainie removed her coat and handed it to the man. Did nothing escape Rad's attention, she wondered in irritation. As the man walked out of the room carrying her coat, she wished for it back. It had given her a fragile sense of security that she could leave anytime she wanted to and provided another barrier from Rad's penetrating gaze.
"That will be all for this evening, Dickerson," said Rad as the man reappeared in the archway, and she glanced fearfully at Rad. Why had he dismissed the man when she was still here? "I didn't suppose you wanted servants listening in on our conversation," Rad answered her unspoken question with his usual perception.
The silence stretched out, allowing her tension to mount. Unwillingly she seated herself on the sofa opposite Rad. He was obviously waiting for her to bring the subject up, and she had no idea where to begin. Now she rolled the half-empty glass of vodka nervously between her hands.
"Mother was admitted to the hospital today," Lainie began hesitantly. "Doctor Henderson believes there are some new treatments that can help her. He's called in a specialist to assist him."
She stopped and stared at the unreadable expression on Rad's face. His lack of cooperation angered her. A little smile of understanding or a sympathetic glance would make it so much easier for her, but that was not his intention. Liquor splashed out of the glass as she shoved it onto the black walnut table.