The Irresistible Mr. Sinclair

by Joan Elliott Pickart

  An hour later, Janice was ready to leave the house to drive to Sleeping Beauty. She went in search of her glasses, finding them on the table in the living room where Taylor had placed them the night before. She picked them up, then hesitated.

  It really had been a relief not to have the heavy frames pressing on her nose, she thought. Maybe they weren’t really necessary. She had her hair in its usual tight bun, and she was wearing a navy-blue, oversize suit with navy Oxfords.

  Yes? No? she thought, staring at the glasses.

  “No,” she said decisively.

  She marched into the kitchen and tossed the glasses into the trash.

  She wasn’t making a fashion statement by disposing of the glasses, she decided. She was simply taking pity on her worn-out, tired nose. She wouldn’t suddenly turn into a raving beauty because she no longer wore glasses.

  In fact, she thought as she left the house, she doubted that anyone she encountered during the day would even notice that she wasn’t wearing glasses.

  “Thank you,” Janice said, smiling.

  The grandmother-type woman beamed at Janice. “No, dear, don’t thank me. You should be thanking yourself for getting contact lenses instead of having to wear those heavy glasses. That was a lovely gift from you to you. Isn’t that right, Ginger?”

  “Oh, yes, Clara,” her elderly companion said. “You have such pretty eyes, Janice. You’ll enjoy looking at this funny old world we live in without having those cumbersome glasses in the way.”

  “I...I never thought of it quite like that before,” Janice said. “A gift from me to me?”

  “Absolutely,” Ginger said. “We should enhance our personal attributes for ourselves. If those around us enjoy looking at what we’ve done, that’s an added bonus.” She laughed merrily. “My personal attributes are long since wrinkled and sagging, but in my day I was a beauty. Wasn’t I, Clara?”

  “You certainly were,” Clara said. “But of more importance, you were my best friend. You were then, you are now. But, yes, indeed, you were stunning.”

  “And I enjoyed every minute of it,” Ginger said. “I knew I was smashing, and when my Homer came into my life and appreciated what he saw, I knew he was an intelligent, sensitive man.”

  “But didn’t you... What I mean is,” Janice began, “didn’t you wonder at times if Homer was attracted to your looks, instead of who you were as a person?”

  “Heavens, no,” Ginger said. “Because I knew who I was. Plus, Homer and I connected on all levels. The foundation of what we had wasn’t based on our outer appearances. Do you understand, Janice?”

  “I think so,” Janice said, frowning.

  “Anyway, dear,” Ginger went on, “don’t hide your lovely eyes behind those nasty glasses again. Enjoy the gifts that nature gave you.”

  “Ginger, look at the time,” Clara said. “We were just going to pop in here for some lotion and be on our way. We’re going to be late for tea with Homer and Franklin. Come along. Goodbye, Janice. We’ll see you again soon.”

  “Goodbye,” she said. “And thank you.”

  The two women left Sleeping Beauty and Janice wandered behind the counter, slipping onto the high stool she kept by the cash register. She propped her elbows on the counter and rested her chin in the palms of her hands.

  Clara and Ginger were the sixteenth and seventeenth customers of the day and every one of them had complimented her on her eyes.

  No one had gone further, suggesting she do something about her wardrobe or hairstyle. They’d simply commented on her pretty eyes.

  It had been...well, nice. It was as though the women who had entered the store recognized something beautiful when they saw it and made a point of saying so. It had all been as simple, open and honest as that.

  “And confusing,” Janice said aloud.

  Then Ginger had added another ingredient to the muddled pie—enhancing one’s beauty for yourself, enjoying one’s natural attributes.

  If a woman connected on all levels with a man, then outer appearances were frosting on the cake.

  There must be truth in Ginger’s theory, Janice thought, because she and Homer were still together, well beyond the glamorous years of their youth.

  How very different her mother’s beliefs had been from those expressed by Ginger. All she’d ever heard as a child, then as a young woman was that beauty was everything, the only thing that mattered. Without it, she would have, would be, nothing of importance.

  But today?

  Today the people who had commented on her beautiful eyes had treated Janice with the same respect and friendliness they had when she’d worn the ugly glasses.

  She’d established herself as the manager of Sleeping Beauty, a classy, well-run boutique, known for excellence of merchandise and service. That she decided to display her pretty eyes was worth acknowledging, but didn’t change her relationship with the patrons of the shop.

  “That’s rather amazing,” Janice said, frowning.

  Did she have this straight? She wasn’t the woman with beautiful eyes who ran Sleeping Beauty. She was the top-notch manager of Sleeping Beauty who happened to have beautiful eyes. Yes, that was apparently how the customers of her store viewed her.

  “Amazing,” she repeated, then smiled. “And wonderful.”

  Oh, my, she thought in the next instant. She was suddenly dealing with so many new things in her life. Taylor Sinclair had somehow opened a multitude of doors that were spilling forth an amalgam of data she was attempting to decipher all at the same time.

  Taylor Sinclair.

  He had not been far from her thoughts the entire day. And with his image in her mind’s eye came the exquisite remembrance of the kisses shared with him, the heated passion that had consumed her, the want, the need, the heartfelt desire to make love with him in total abandon.

  “Too much,” Janice whispered. “It’s just too much all at once.”

  Just slow down, stay calm, she told herself. She was still in control, doing fine. She could handle this, all of it, one thing at a time.

  Couldn’t she?

  “Oh, stop thinking,” she said, sliding off the stool. “Go fold a teddy.”

  That night Taylor telephoned Janice to remind her to bring a sweater along on the trip to Prescott. They’d ended up chatting for half an hour.

  On Thursday evening he called to ask if she’d decided what samples of her merchandise she’d take to show Andrea and Brandon. They’d talked for an hour.

  Friday night, Taylor phoned to confirm that he’d pick Janice up at ten the next morning. Two hours later she replaced the receiver with a soft smile on her lips.

  She and Taylor never ran out of things to talk about, she thought as she prepared for bed. It was all just chit-chat, getting-to-know-you-better topics, with Taylor sharing hilarious stories of his youthful escapades in Prescott. He, along with Brandon Hamilton and someone named Ben Rizzoli had been busy, mischievous little boys.

  Janice got into bed and snapped off the light on the nightstand.

  Well, tomorrow was the big day. She rolled onto her stomach, wiggling into a comfortable position.

  In a handful of hours, she thought sleepily, she’d be on her way to Prescott.

  With Taylor.

  Taylor lay in bed, his hands linked beneath his head on the pillow as he smiled up at a ceiling he couldn’t see in the darkness.

  It had been a good week...no, correct that...a great week, and the high point of each day had been the conversations with Janice on the phone.

  She had a terrific sense of humor and a quick, intelligent mind. She had definite opinions she didn’t hesitate to express, but she was willing to listen to new ideas and viewpoints with an open attitude.

  She’d skittered around answering any in-depth questions regarding her life before opening Sleeping Beauty, but she had urged him to tell more and more stories about his childhood in Prescott. Her lilting laughter in response to his tales had come through the telephone to flow over him in a war
m cascade.

  Oh, yes, it had been a great week.

  And tomorrow? Hell, tomorrow was going to be fantastic. He’d pick up Janice at exactly ten o’clock and they’d be off, whizzing along the mountain highway for a weekend in Prescott...together.

  Well, not together in the sense of spending the weekend together as he had with women in the past, but together all the same.

  He was looking forward to it, more than he would be able to put into words if pressed to do so.

  He was going to spend forty-eight hours in cool, pretty Prescott, Arizona.

  With Janice.

  Chapter Eight

  Janice walked slowly across the lobby of Hamilton House, her gaze sweeping over everything within view. She stopped in the center of the large expanse and turned to look at Taylor, her eyes sparkling.

  “Oh, Taylor,” she said, smiling, “this is absolutely beautiful. It’s like stepping back in time.”

  Taylor chuckled. “I take it that you like it?”

  “Like it? I love it. Every detail imaginable has been thought of.” She paused. “Where do Andrea and Brandon intend to put the shops?”

  “You can ask them yourself. They’re about to pounce on us.”

  Janice turned again to see a couple with welcoming smiles approaching them.

  Brandon Hamilton was tall and well-built, his dark suit accentuating his broad shoulders and long legs. He had black hair, dark eyes, and was rug. gedly handsome.

  Andrea Hamilton had delicate features and big, dark eyes. Her shiny, swinging hair was dark brown, worn in a smooth, blunt cut to just above her shoulders. She was wearing a calf-length, paisley print dress that nipped in at her tiny waist.

  They were an attractive couple, looked...well, as though they belonged together.

  A sudden image of the pair of hummingbirds on her patio flashed before Janice’s eyes.

  Two by two, she thought. That was how society was constructed. Pairs. A woman, a man. A female, a male. Even the hummingbirds knew that.

  Where was this nonsense coming from? she admonished herself. Her thoughts echoed “oh-poor-me-I’m-all-alone.” She was perfectly content with her single status, with her life exactly the way it was.

  “Hello, hello,” Andrea said as she and Brandon stopped in front of Janice and Taylor. “Welcome to Hamilton House. It’s nice to see you again, Taylor. And you must be Janice Jennings.”

  Taylor made the official introductions. He watched Brandon’s face, seeing his friend frown slightly as he greeted Janice.

  Brandon’s reaction to Janice was right on target, Taylor thought. Brandon was reaching the conclusion that Janice was very pretty...but then again...she wasn’t.

  Janice was wearing her typical boxy, too big suit, this one kelly-green. The clunky Oxfords of the day were off-white to match the high-necked blouse. Her hair was in the usual bun.

  But there were no heavy glasses on Janice’s nose, and he was taking credit for that. He’d refrained from mentioning the absence of the glasses during the drive up to Prescott.

  Yep, Brandon was seeing Janice’s beautiful face and dynamite eyes in all their splendor, but the entire package that was Janice was off kilter. And Brandon knew it.

  “...along that wall,” Andrea was saying to Janice.

  Taylor tuned back into the conversation.

  “The plans Taylor told me about sound wonderful,” Janice said. “I can easily picture the cobblestone walkway, the lampposts, everything.”

  “We’re very excited about the project,” Brandon said, encircling Andrea’s shoulders with one arm. “Have you two had lunch?”

  “No,” Taylor said “And we’re ready to eat.”

  “Good,” Andrea said. “We have a table reserved in the dining room.” She paused and laughed. “No, I can’t stand it. Will you faint dead away from hunger if we look at the samples Janice brought from Sleeping Beauty before we eat, Taylor? I’m so eager to see them.”

  “I’ll grin and bear it,” he said. “Just don’t comment if my stomach growls. I’ll go bring in our luggage and the boxes from Sleeping Beauty. They’re in the car.”

  “I’ll go with you, Taylor,” Brandon said

  “Janice and I will meet you two in the conference room,” Andrea said.

  Taylor and Brandon left the hotel and crossed the street to the designated parking lot. Taylor opened the trunk of his car.

  “I don’t get it,” Brandon said, speaking for the first time since the two men had made their exit.

  “Don’t get what?” Taylor said.

  “Janice,” Brandon said. “That is one very beautiful woman, but...” He stopped speaking and shook his head.

  “Yep,” Taylor said, smiling. “She’s beautiful, all right. Those eyes of hers could stop traffic.”

  “But why the awful clothes?” Brandon said. “And the spinster schoolteacher hairdo?”

  “I don’t know for sure why Janice dresses the way she does.” Taylor shoved his hands into the pockets of the gray slacks he wore with a lightweight, white sweater. “I managed to get her to ditch a pair of thick, dark-framed glasses—glasses that did not have prescription lenses.”

  “She’s intentionally downplaying her beauty?” Brandon said, raising his eyebrows.

  “I think so,” Taylor said, nodding. “I thought at first she might not know how gorgeous she is, but now I’m beginning to believe she’s hiding her natural attributes.”

  “Weird,” Brandon said, shaking his head.

  “No, she’s just very complicated.” Taylor paused. “But you know something, Brandon? The more time I spend with Janice, talking, sharing, the less her appearance matters. I find myself not even thinking about it more often than not.”

  “Mmm,” Brandon said.

  “Janice is intelligent, a very savvy businesswoman,” Taylor went on. “She has a great sense of humor, is right on top of world events, sports, movies—hell, the whole nine yards.

  “She... What is that fool grin on your face supposed to mean?”

  “A tad fond of the complicated Ms. Jennings are you, old chum?” Brandon said, still grinning his fool grin.

  “No. Well, yes, I...like her. What’s not to like? She’s intelligent and—”

  “Cut,” Brandon said, slicing one hand through the air. “Don’t repeat the whole list, for Pete’s sake. Well, this should be a very interesting weekend. Yep, very interesting.”

  “Put a cork in it, Hamilton.” Taylor reached into the trunk, retrieved a stack of boxes and shoved them at Brandon. “Make yourself useful.”

  Brandon wrapped his arms around the boxes. “I already have. I was the one who told you that you might very well be lonely and not even realize it, remember? There is definitely something brewing between you and the mysterious Janice.”

  “You’re pushing me, Hamilton,” Taylor said, taking two suitcases from the trunk.

  “I hope so,” Brandon said, smiling. “You’re overdue to be pushed.” He glanced down at the logo on the boxes he held. “Sleeping Beauty. Know what I think?”

  “No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me,” Taylor said, glaring at him.

  “I think the name Sleeping Beauty applies not only to Janice’s boutique, but to the lady herself.”

  “What?”

  “Think about it,” Brandon said. “The question is whether or not you’re the prince who will kiss awake the sleeping beauty. Oh, yeah, this is going to be quite a weekend. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  When the two men returned to the hotel, Andrea informed them that she’d realized that in her excitement to see the merchandise from Sleeping Beauty, she’d failed to recognize the fact that Janice might prefer to check into her room and freshen up.

  Taylor was to go to the fifth floor to deliver Janice’s suitcase to her. Brandon gave Taylor a key to Andrea and Brandon’s apartment, which was on the same floor, telling him to leave his luggage in their spare bedroom.

  They would all meet in the conference room in fifte
en minutes.

  “Yes, ma‘am,” Taylor said, smiling at Andrea. “Got it, ma’am. I’m off to do as instructed.”

  “All men should be so cooperative,” Andrea said, sliding a look at Brandon, who winked at her. “I promise I won’t peek at the samples from Sleeping Beauty while we’re waiting.” She paused. “Well, maybe just a teeny little look.”

  “Nope,” Brandon said, tightening his hold on the boxes he held. “Janice probably has a presentation all planned. You can’t touch anything until she comes back downstairs, sweet wife.”

  “Well, darn it,” Andrea said. “Taylor, your Janice is so nice. I feel so comfortable with her, as though I’ve known her forever.”

  “She isn’t mine,” Taylor said, frowning.

  “Figure of speech,” Andrea said. “Shoo. Go. Janice is waiting for her suitcase.”

  Taylor headed for the elevator on the far wall of the lobby.

  “So, you like Janice?” Brandon said to Andrea once Taylor was out of earshot.

  “Oh, very much. She’s friendly, warm, just delightful. I can see why she’d have loyal customers. She’s pleasant to be with.”

  “Didn’t you find her appearance a bit unusual?” Brandon said, raising his eyebrows.

  Andrea nodded slowly. “Yes, I did. Janice is beautiful, but she’s doing everything possible not to be. She’s a mystery in a way, a very complex person. Taylor has his work cut out for him.”

  “I happen to agree with you, but what makes you think that Taylor is interested in Janice beyond just being her accountant?”

  “Brandon, Brandon, Brandon,” Andrea said. “I’m a woman. I know these things by instinct. You just watch. The aunts will pick up on it in a flash.”

  “Hey, I wouldn’t dream of arguing the point.” he said, “even if I didn’t believe that you’re right on the money. The female mind is far beyond my comprehension.”

  “Of course it is, sweetheart,” Andrea said, smiling at him warmly. “Let’s take those boxes into the conference room. Oh, this is so exciting. I can hardly wait to see the goodies from Sleeping Beauty.”