by Lia London
Maris stopped with surprise when their fingers touched. He seemed to sense the electricity of the connection and held the position a second or two longer than necessary. When she relinquished the plate, he hoisted it like a tray above his shoulder and strode away to the catering cart at the far edge of the room.
“Crap, girl. He is delicious.”
Maris greeted Adi with a hug. “I know. Isn’t he a dream?”
Adi and Maris watched him deposit the plates in a basin and exchange a few words with the cute brunette attending the cart.
“Yeah, keep an eye on that boy,” said Adi. “He’s got a little wolf in him.”
“No, he doesn’t. He totally ignored Claudia.”
Adi chuckled. “Then he’s a smart wolf.”
“He’s coming back. Want to meet him?”
Adi shook her head and glanced over at her husband, a rotund man with dark skin and a distinguished nose that seemed at odds with the way he chewed the tip of his tongue while thinking. “No, if I don’t get over to the buffet table, Hershel will grab up all of the good stuff. It’s slim pickings when you come late.”
“There’s still a whole banquet to go,” protested Maris.
“Nuh-uh. I’m just making a showing. You won’t catch me forking out $60 a plate for anything that doesn’t come with a massage and a live serenade by Justin Timberlake.”
“They didn’t give you a free pass?” Maris frowned. She thought everyone at Conway should get one. At least everyone on the third floor. “Okay, hurry. Scoop extra chocolate sauce. It’s deadly good.”
Adi waddled off as Crawford approached. “Ready for the boring part?” she asked.
“Boring part?”
“We get to go eat even more food, and you get to watch me give a last pitch for supporting the Annex.”
Crawford’s cheeks lifted. “That won’t be boring.”
“I’m not in love with public speaking,” said Maris. “I always think I sound stupid and don’t make any sense.”
“What if I sit where you can see me and give you a huge smile the whole time?”
Maris had a feeling she’d be even more tongue-tied if he did, but she beamed. “It might help. Let’s go.”
Crawford struggled not to let his jaw drop. Though Maris rambled a little, he couldn’t question her intelligence or her conviction. She really cared about helping the homeless people in Spokane, and she’d done her research to find the best ways to do so. She’d even partnered with several other organizations in town that ran similar programs and showed why the Conway Annex would make a significant impact in the lives of the people they would serve. This wasn’t just about sweeping the messy people off the street and hiding them away. It included job training, health care, and counseling for victims of abuse or addiction.
When she finished with an awkward shrug, Crawford leapt to his feet, applauding. “Excellent! Way to serve Spokane!”
The people around him murmured in surprise, and he wondered if he’d done something wrong, but then they slowly rose to their feet, clapping politely, too. Eventually, everyone filed out and crowded the tables one last time to sign bids.
Maris bounded up to him, wrapping her hands around his arm. “Crawford, thank you so much. Oh my gosh, I can’t believe you did that for me. Not only did you keep me from peeing my pants while I talked, you got the people fired up. You are so incredibly awesome!”
Crawford blinked at her. He’d been told the same by girls before, but never when fully clothed. What had he done except be supportive?
Maris shook him by the wrist and pointed. “Dad’s going around and gathering up the sheets! They’re so full now!” She wrapped her arms around him tightly. “I so owe you one.”
Crawford’s confidence rose. Yes, this date would end well tonight.
The man Maris identified as her father cupped his hands and called for attention before launching into a short speech thanking Maris for her work and the people for their generosity.
“All of these prizes will be awarded to the highest bidder, and they are all non-transferrable. If my mental math is correct, we managed to raise almost forty-five thousand dollars tonight, which should easily purchase all the start-up supplies needed for the Annex. That’s a lot of people you helped tonight. Thank you again!”
Crawford silently willed the man to hurry up and announce the winners, so he could move on to the part of the date that interested him most: Maris after hours.
“Winners of the three-night stay in Skamania Lodge …” Maris’ father paused and grunted, his face a theatrical mask of disapproval. “Huh, not much bidding on this one.”
“Too far away!” called a man from the back.
“They needed summer dates available,” complained a woman.
Maris cringed and mumbled under her breath, “I did the best I could.”
“So, the winners—plural—are Crawford Andrews and Maris Conway.”
Crawford’s eyes popped wide. “No way!”
Beside him, Maris drooped. “No way!”
Crawford lay comforting hands on her shoulders. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll pay it. You won’t have to. It’s so sweet that we won!” He hugged her while people clapped, and her father continued to announce winners. It took Crawford a moment to realize the sounds coming from Maris were not happy ones.
“What’s wrong?”
Maris spoke through fingers covering her mouth. “I can’t go. I can’t spend the night with you in … I don’t …” Her words faded into a strangled gurgle.
Crawford gaped. “You don’t want a romantic getaway with me?”
Her eyes pled with him. “It’s not that, except. Well, yeah, it is. But I mean …”
“You don’t like me?”
“I do, but not enough for that. We just met and I’m …”
Crawford’s ears flushed with heat, and he tugged her away from the crowd, who now cheered for the winners of a day at the Davenport Spa and Salon.
“What is it, Maris?”
“It’s a romantic suite for two, Crawford. There are …” She groaned out at the night sky. “Expectations …”
Crawford expanded his ribcage and leaned in. “Don’t worry, Maris. I’ll meet your expectations and then some.”
She turned glistening eyes up to him. “But I can’t meet yours.”
Chapter 4 ~ Professional Obligations
“But Dad, I can’t!”
Maris’ father pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, swiveling his chair away from her in order to fold his ankle up to his knee. “I don’t see how we can back out now, Maris. You’re the one who came up with the brilliant idea of taking snapshots of the bidding pages, so the donors would see what people thought they were worth. It’s great research for them, but it puts us in a terrible bind because your name is on Skamania’s sheet.”
“But I didn’t put it there!” Maris knew she sounded childish. Thankful for the closed office door, she slipped off her shoes and tucked one foot under her thigh. “Can’t we just tell them no one bid? Crawford and I can pay the money to the Annex fund, and—”
“And have the people in Skamania think no one liked their resort?”
Maris buried her face in her hands, muffling her voice. “But you heard the objections. It wasn’t the resort, just the timing and distance. We can let them know. Won’t it be helpful feedback?”
He rocked forward, his feet on the ground again and his expression stern. “Maris, I don’t know what you and the pretty boy were playing at, but you’ve signed the name Conway to—”
“I didn’t sign it!”
“That’s not the point!” he snapped.
Maris cringed.
“I’m sorry. I… don’t know what to do about spending three nights with a man in a fancy hotel. What if …?” She shrugged and whimpered.
“You’re an adult. You’re a Conway. You’ll figure it out.” He rolled his eyes. “Maris, it’s the twenty-first century. No one’s going to blink if t
wo attractive young people go off for a romantic retreat together, married or not.”
“But we’re not an item.”
“Then don’t act like one. No one’s saying you have to sleep with the guy. Explain to him how you feel. It’s not a big deal. Just make sure you two behave appropriately in public. Don’t embarrass the Conway name. The Gorge area is an untapped region of development for us, and—”
“I understand.” Maris rarely cut him off, but her seething fury short-circuited her good manners. Standing up, she lifted her chin. “I’ll make sure Conway Communities is represented well.”
“That’s my girl. Build bridges of opportunity.”
Maris hid her rolling eyes. Gripping the door handle, she spoke through a clenched jaw. “Is there any special timeline you want us to use? The offer expires at the end of the month.”
“The sooner the better, Maris. Get it over with, so you can get back up here and work on the Annex. I want the place fully operational by Thanksgiving, so we can show how we’re helping during the holidays.”
Maris would have been touched except she knew he saw it as a publicity stunt, not a way to help people whose lives had been torn apart.
“I’ll call Crawford now and set it up.”
“Good, good.” Her father’s tone returned to his business-friendly mode. “I’m sure you’ll have fun in the end.”
Closing the door, Maris took off towards the secret stash in the breakroom.
“Shoes!” called Adi.
Maris stopped cold. “Aaaaaugh!!” She scurried back to her father’s office and knocked, barging in before he answered. Her father was on the phone already, so she reached silently under the chair and snagged her shoes by the back straps. As she clicked the door shut, she heard her father chuckle in an unfamiliar way.
“Sounds wonderful, Claudia. Let’s try it soon.”
Clutching her shoes by the straps in one hand and her mouth in the other, she shuffled at top speed into the breakroom where Adi stood with the bag of chocolates already outstretched.
“Gads, girl. What happened in there?”
Maris dropped her shoes and snatched the paper bag with both hands. “Adi, I don’t know what to do!” She let herself drop into one of the chairs and lightly pounded her forehead on the table that formed the centerpiece of the room.
“Feeling a little dramatic today, are we?”
The microwave dinged, and Adi extracted a mug of steaming herbal tea.
“Dad says I have to go to Skamania with Crawford,” said Maris into the tabletop. “It’s going to be a disaster.”
Adi scraped a chair back and sat opposite Maris. “You lost me, Maris. What’s a Skamania?”
Maris lifted her head and palmed her eye sockets. “Skamania. It’s a lodge resort in the Columbia Gorge. Very posh. Honeymoon type of place.”
“Oh, that sounds nice.” Adi sipped her tea.
“It’s very nice, and it’s going to be horrible.”
“Because you’re going with the Bubble Bath Boy?”
Maris chuckled despite herself. “I wish I’d never seen him like that. Going to a romantic getaway with a man that dreamy is … not helpful.”
Adi patted Maris’ arm. “You’ve always found a way to stick to your standards, Maris. You can do this.” She pulled her hand back and took another sip, watching Maris closely. “So why is your dad making you go?”
“Don’t get me started,” grumbled Maris.
“Let me guess,” said Adi with a sympathetic frown. “It has something to do with the greater good of Washington communities, otherwise known as Conway Community Builders’ bottom line?”
Maris threw up her hands helplessly. “He sees a connection.”
“And wants you to make a love connection?”
“He didn’t exactly say that. He just doesn’t want to ruffle the new connection with Skamania in case there are future development opportunities there.”
Adi rested her chin on her knuckles and narrowed her eyes. “Is it a honeymoon suite?”
“No, not necessarily. It’s a full two-room thing with a jacuzzi bath.”
“Then let Bubble Bath Boy sleep in the tub.” Adi winked and stood up. “I get you’re uncomfortable, Maris, but you can handle this. Go have a good time in a fancy place. Run up the tab on your dad’s dime, build those bridges of opportunity he’s always talking about, and then come home with some pictures of the dream boat. Not so much as a kiss required.”
“You think?” A glimmer of hope lit Maris’ eyes. “Could I get away with it? An extended date with no … obligations?”
“If anyone can, it’s you.”
“Okay.” Maris breathed a little more evenly. “I can do this. I’ll go call Crawford. I’ll enjoy the view but keep him at arm’s length, and then it’ll be over.”
Crawford checked his phone and saw two texts: one from Brittanie said, Call me so we can schedule our getaway, and another from Maris saying the same thing but adding the word please. He mentally patted himself on the back for having two beautiful women desiring alone time with him, then deleted Brittanie’s number. A fading part of him wondered why he would do that when Brittanie was so …
He shrugged it off and dialed Maris.
“Yo, Maris. It’s me, Crawdaddy.”
“Crawdaddy?” Her voice sounded repulsed. “Isn’t that some kind of freshwater mini lobster thing?”
He laughed. “It’s a nickname I’ve picked up.”
“Ah.” She paused. “Well, I’ll stick with Crawford, if you don’t mind. I don’t want to go on a date with someone named Daddy.”
“I thought you were a Daddy’s Girl.”
“Dutifully so, but I’m not your little girl,” answered Maris with a clipped tone. “So, how soon can we go? Do you have another modeling assignment lined up, or can we go as soon as they have an opening?”
Crawford liked the sound of her eagerness. Maybe he’d misinterpreted her the night of the auction when she’d cut the evening short.
Still, he couldn’t give her the available-for-relationship vibe, so he hesitated. “Uh, well. I’ll have to check my planner.”
“They’ve got a three-night opening for the suite in question available next Tuesday, staying through Thursday night. Is that do-able? Then from there, you could head right back to Portland.”
“I’m already back in Portland.”
“Oh. Right. You had no reason to stay in Spokane.”
He thought of her long, golden hair, big smile, and stunning eyes. “I had a reason but no invitation.”
“What? Oh!” Her breathy laugh filled his ear with static.
Crawford paced across his living room. “So, my schedule says I’m free. Should we meet there?”
“Yeah, that’ll work. Check-in time is three o’clock, I think, but we don’t have to get there early.”
“I don’t mind either way. It’s not too far from me.” He cleared his throat. “This should be very romantic. I think it’s pretty sweet we won without hardly trying.”
“Uh, yeah.”
Crawford stopped and gripped the phone tighter. “Yeah?”
“The romantic thing. I mean … um.” He could actually hear her swallow. “I’m not the kind of girl who sleeps with a guy on the first date.”
“No worries. This’ll be our second date,” he teased. “And third and fourth, I guess.” He chortled at his own joke.
“Uh. Right. Anyway, it’ll be a suite with two rooms. We won’t have to share a bed or anything.”
“Unless we want to?” He felt their connection slipping away.
“See you three o’clock-ish on Tuesday. Meet me in the main lobby.” She hung up.
Crawford sagged onto his couch, confused by Maris’ mixed signals. A heavy rock in his stomach urged him to slide all the way to the floor, and he sat with his legs sprawled out in front of him.
He knew the problem, of course. A classy woman like Maris would never want an oaf like him. He only had one thing to offer, a
nd he offered it willingly and well, but if the girl wasn’t eager for sex, what would keep her interest?
A frown formed on Crawford’s lips. He’d never asked himself such a question before because he’d always been content with the way things worked with women, but now …
Maris rattled him and drew him in without any effort at all, and for the first time in his life, he wished he were more of a man, at least more the kind of man who would attract a truly remarkable and lovely woman like Maris. He felt a hole in his heart that told him something better existed, but he didn’t know what it was or how to reach it.
Crawford sighed. At least the getaway came in only a week. Maybe between now and then, he could read something that would make him smarter, or maybe rescue a puppy from a tree. Good guys did those kinds of things, right?
His hands longed to explore her soft sweetness, but the rest of him wanted to be worthy of more than a night or two of passion.
“Good luck with that, Crawdaddy,” he muttered, hoisting himself to his feet again. Maybe a good workout would clear his mind of her.
Maris pressed her cold palms to her cheeks, trying to cool her blush. Crawford’s recent innuendos, though mild, made it clear he thought nothing of casual intimacy. Alas, he couldn’t be her gallant knight in shining armor who would be satisfied with a simple kiss. When would she find a man with chivalry who would court her in an old-fashioned way?
“I’m not being fair to him.” She slid her hands up into her hair and cradled her head as she slouched back in her chair. “I’m the one who’s weird. Why am I so weird?”
She knew, though. Maris took after her mother, Sara, and that suited her fine. Sara’s refinement and generosity filled Maris with pride as a little girl and inspiration as a young woman. While Sara lived, Maris never doubted she was valued, capable, and good.
Since her mother’s death, her father’s attentions had shifted more and more into making money and clinging to his rising influence, and Maris had gone without the regular affirmations of a loving parent. She knew her father thought the whole philanthropic department served little purpose, but it had been Sara’s legacy and Maris’ joy, so he left it alone. And he left Maris alone most of the time, too, even though they worked down the hall from each other.