Mr. Strictly Business

by Day Leclaire

  Catherine frowned. “I’m sorry. Run that by me again. He changed the dates? We’re not booked for this next weekend?”

  “No, ma’am. It’s been switched to one week later. One moment, please.…” A muffled conversation ensued and then Theresa came back onto the line. “Kaisy says she remembers something about a work conflict. Fortunately, due to a recent cancelation, that particular suite is available both weekends. So if you could just confirm which room we should be holding…?”

  The hell with which room. Right now all that mattered was which date. “Theresa, could I get back to you on that?” Catherine asked as calmly as she could manage. “I need a few hours to check into it.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t hold the suite past five today,” she explained. “Would that give you sufficient time?”

  “That will be fine,” Catherine replied. “Thank you for calling.”

  She returned the receiver to its cradle using the greatest of care, and closed her eyes while despair swamped her. How could Gabe make that change without consulting her first? He knew. He knew how important this weekend was to her, that she’d planned to speak frankly about what had happened two years ago. Why would he undermine all that?

  They’d grown so close over the past month. They’d finally learned to trust, had slowly, but surely, dealt with their differences. She’d witnessed the change in him. Understood why Piretti’s was of such importance to him, just as he’d accepted the importance of her career. And this was what it came down to.

  When everything was said and done, all his fine promises to reorganize his priorities were just so much talk. He hadn’t changed, not really.

  She fought for calm as she considered her options. Last time she’d run. Last time she’d been ill and her only thought had been to hide somewhere safe while she licked her wounds. But she wasn’t the same woman she’d been two years ago. Catherine shoved back her chair and stood.

  This time she’d fight back.

  Ten

  C atherine had little memory of the drive across town to Piretti’s headquarters. Little memory of parking her car in the underground lot, or taking the elevator straight to the top using the special coded key card Gabe had given her that allowed her direct access to the highest of the high.

  She only woke to her surroundings as she strode, rapid-fire, across the plush carpet toward Gabe’s office. Roxanne sat at her desk, smiling that smug smile of hers, and it took every ounce of self-control not to ball up a fist and plant it right in that pouty red mouth. Did she know? Catherine couldn’t help but wonder. Did that explain the delighted look in her eye, one that said she would relish every minute of the scene about to unfold?

  She swept past Roxanne’s desk and thrust open Gabe’s door without so much as a perfunctory knock. He was in a meeting, not that she gave a damn. She slammed the door closed behind her.

  “Did you cancel our plans for this weekend?” she demanded.

  Everyone froze. All eyes swiveled from her to Gabe. “Gentlemen…” He jerked his head toward the door. “Clear the decks.”

  There was a minor scrambling toward the exit, like rats deserting a sinking ship. The last man overboard pulled the door shut behind him as gently as though it were made of Waterford crystal. Catherine knew she was handling this badly, but she was too furious to care. She tossed her purse onto the chair in front of Gabe’s desk, considered sitting and elected to stand. Gabe rose to confront her. Annoyance, bordering on anger, glittered in his blue eyes.

  “What’s going on, Catherine?”

  To her horror she felt tears pressing into her throat and behind her eyelids. She’d planned to maintain her cool, to use a hint of self-righteous anger to carry her through a difficult conversation. Instead, she could feel herself crumbling. She balled her hands into fists, and fought for control.

  “I had a phone call less than an hour ago from Très Romantique informing me that you’d called and changed our reservations from this week to next due to a work conflict.” Her control wobbled, but she fought back. “I know you probably don’t think there’s any difference between one week and another. But it mattered—matters—to me. I thought you understood.” She looked him dead in the eye so there’d be no mistaking her feelings on the matter. “So, here’s the bottom line. When I need you, I need you. It can’t always be at your convenience. Sometimes life happens and it ends up happening during a meeting or during a negotiation or…or—” To her horror, her voice broke.

  “Catherine—”

  She waved him off. “No!” She snatched a quick, calming breath, relieved to feel the press of tears ease just enough for her to speak. “No, Gabe. Things have changed. I’ve changed. I’m not handling our little crisis the way I did two years ago. I’m not going to remain silent any longer. I’m not going to sit by the phone waiting for your call. I’m not going to leave you a note. And I’m damn sure not going to run. This time I’ll have my say.”

  Some indefinable reaction shifted across his expression, one she couldn’t take the time to analyze, not if she wanted to get through this.

  “I’m listening.”

  But for how long? And how would it ultimately affect their relationship? “I don’t care if this weekend interferes with business issues. I need you. Not last weekend. Not the weekend after. This weekend.”

  “Why?” he asked quietly.

  She simply stood and stared at him, her grief and sorrow leaking from her in an unstoppable stream. “The date.”

  “It’s the two-year anniversary of the date you left me. I got that part.”

  She caught a glimpse of the emotion behind that subtle shift in expression, a hint of anger combined with a wealth of pain.

  “What I haven’t been able to figure is why you’d want to go out of your way to commemorate the occasion.”

  She could feel the blood drain from her face. “Commemorate? You thought—” Oh, no. No, no, no. “Oh, Gabe, that’s not it at all. I’m so sorry you thought so. I don’t want to commemorate it.”

  His eyes closed briefly and he swore beneath his breath. “Aw, hell. You planned to replace the memories, didn’t you?” Circling the desk, he pulled her close, and with that one simple touch, the fury and tension drained away. He cupped her face and turned it up to his. “You’re attempting to superimpose new memories, happy memories over top of what went before.”

  She stared at him, her chin trembling. “How could you think otherwise?”

  He gave a half-humorous shrug. “It happens. And it’s going to happen again, especially when we miss a small step…such as the one where you explain your plan in advance.”

  She was an idiot. She’d assumed he’d understand without her having to go there. “Sometimes I forget you don’t read minds.” She let the sigh pour out of her. “Is that why, Gabe? Is that why you changed the date? You thought I planned to rub salt in the wound? Is that really something you believe I’d do?”

  “Listen carefully, Catherine.…” He lowered his head and feathered a brief kiss across her mouth. “I. Didn’t. Change. The. Date.”

  It took her a moment to process the words. “But…but I had a phone call from Theresa at Très Romantique. She said you did.”

  “She’s mistaken.” He edged his hip onto his desk and reached for his PDA. “Let’s get this straightened out, shall we?”

  Tapping with the stylus, he brought up the information he needed and then placed a call. A few minutes later he was connected to Reservations. It never ceased to amaze her how cleanly he managed to cut straight through to the heart of the matter, explaining the problem in a few short sentences. He listened for a while to what Catherine could only presume was Theresa’s chronicle of events.

  “Got it. I’ll be certain to tell your manager how much I appreciate your thoughtfulness in calling about the suite, especially since it’s clear that the error was on my end. I also appreciate your reinstating the original reservation. In the meantime, could you check with Kaisy and ask her specifically who changed
the date? Not at all. I’ll wait.”

  His gaze shifted to Catherine and she shivered. She’d only seen that look in his eye once before, when he’d discovered an employee had been cheating him. She never forgot that particular expression, just as she hoped never to see it again.

  “Thank you, Theresa. That’s precisely what I need ed.” He disconnected the call and then punched a button on his desk phone. “Roxanne, would you step into my office for a moment?”

  Catherine released her breath in a slow sigh. Of course. How incredibly foolish of her not to have suspected as much. You could paint a leopard purple, but there were still spots lurking under all that dye. Roxanne could no more change her character than a leopard could change from a predator to a rabbit, regardless of threats and coercion.

  How it must have chafed to toe the line. And when the opportunity arose to try for one more bit of mischief, she probably found it too much to resist. One more petty little slap, especially if she sensed how much it would hurt. Another thought occurred. Maybe she believed that Catherine couldn’t change her spots, either. Maybe she thought that history would repeat itself, and Catherine would run, rather than tackle the problem head-on.

  She and Gabe both waited in silence until Roxanne slithered into the room. Catherine scrutinized her closely. Today she’d chosen to project a far different image. She wore a beautiful ivory high-neck dress with tiny pearl buttons down the fitted bodice. A demure touch of lace gave the dress an almost bridal appearance. The entire ensemble was reminiscent of the turn of the previous century, right down to the Gibson Girl manner in which she’d piled her hair on top of her head. She carried a steno pad and pen, held at the ready.

  “How can I help you, Gabe?” she asked sweetly.

  “Answer a question for me, Roxanne.”

  She kept her dark gaze trained on her boss, completely ignoring Catherine. “Of course.” She smiled, projecting the perfect amount of flirtatious innocence. “Anything at all. You know that.”

  “I had a reservation at Très Romantique. It’s been changed. Do you know anything about it?”

  “I do,” she responded calmly. “I was going to tell you about it after your meeting ended, but…” She shot Catherine a swift, chiding glance. “I hadn’t counted on Ms. Haile disrupting things.”

  He forced her back on point. “Explain what happened with the reservation.”

  “Certainly. I had a call from Mr. LaRue. He said that he had some sort of scheduling conflict and that Wednesday was no longer convenient to sign the final contracts. He insisted we change it.”

  “Insisted?”

  She sighed. “Oh, Gabe, you know how he can be.

  He was adamant. I did my best to change his mind, but he wouldn’t be budged. Only one other date would do and that happened to be during those days you had me block off. When I argued, he said it was then or never.” She shook her head in distress. “What could I do? I told him I’d check with you and then thought maybe I could help you avert a blowup with Catherine by calling Très Romantique to see if they had any availability for the following week. I’m so sorry I failed. Clearly, Catherine isn’t open to compromise.”

  “You canceled my reservations without checking with me first?”

  She hesitated for a split second. “Of course not. I explained the conflict and had the girl hold the room for both dates. She agreed to do so until I had a chance to check with you.” Her eyes widened. “Oh, no. Don’t tell me she didn’t do as I asked?”

  “The girl’s name is Kaisy. And that’s not how she remembers the conversation going down.”

  Catherine had to give Roxanne credit. She didn’t react to the comment by so much as a flicker of an eye lash. Nor did she deviate from her story. If anything her shock and indignation increased. “Then this Kaisy misunderstood. Either that or she’s trying to cover up her mistake.”

  Gabe smiled. “Well, that explains that,” he said smoothly.

  Roxanne relaxed ever so slightly, even daring to shoot Catherine the tiniest of looks from the corner of her eye, one glowing with triumph. “Is there anything else?”

  “I think there might be. Just give me a minute.” He picked up the phone and stabbed out another number. “Gabe Piretti here,” he replied to whatever greeting he received. “Is the big man around? Yes, I would, thanks.”

  Another brief pause. “Jack? I’m putting you on speaker, is that all right?”

  “Sure….” His voice boomed into the room. “Not another change to our meeting, I hope?”

  “Actually, that’s why I’m calling.”

  Gabe fixed his eyes on his assistant, pinning her in place. She turned ashen. The shade clashed with her pretty little ivory dress, Catherine decided. Not at all a good color combination for her. She should have stuck with jewel tones. Besides, ivory was just going to draw attention to the boot print about to be inflicted to her curvaceous derriere.

  “I’m looking at a note that Roxanne left me about the change to our meeting date,” Gabe continued. “Was our original time inconvenient?”

  “Hell, no. Roxy said it was bad for you.”

  Roxanne opened her mouth to interrupt and with one vicious look, Gabe had the words dying before they were ever spoken. “That’s what she told you? That I wanted it changed?”

  “Yup. Had it right from those sweet luscious lips of hers. I have to admit, I wasn’t too happy about it. If she weren’t so pretty with her apology, I would have raised holy hell.”

  “And why’s that, Jack?”

  “Because I was planning on ditching town the minute I cashed your check. Had a nice little vacation all planned out to kick off my retirement. Wife’s none too pleased, either. Hasn’t stopped pecking at me since I broke the news to her.”

  “I’ll tell you what, Jack. Let me make a few adjustments at this end so you can go ahead and keep those plans. I wouldn’t want to upset Marie.”

  “That’s damn decent of you, Gabe. Think I’ll tell her I ripped you a new one and you agreed to switch it back. You don’t mind if I make myself the hero of the piece, do you?”

  “Go right ahead. My best to Marie, and I’ll see you Wednesday, as originally planned.” He cut the connection. “You’re fired, Roxanne. I’ve just buzzed for security. They’ll help you clear out your desk. Then they will escort you to payroll, where I’ll have a two-month severance check cut for you.”

  “Please, Gabe,” she said in a soft, penitent undertone. “Don’t I get a chance to explain?”

  He didn’t hesitate. “No.” Hard. Cold. Absolute. “You stood here in front of me, looked me dead in the eye and lied. You changed those dates for one reason and one reason only. To hit out at Catherine. No one does that to my woman and gets away with it.”

  “If you’d just let me explain,” she pleaded, huge tears welling up in her eyes, “you’d see this is just a big misunderstanding.”

  “You’re right. My misunderstanding. I knew what you were when I hired you. I thought I could use that to my advantage. But I’d forgotten the cardinal rule. If you pick up a snake, expect to get bitten.”

  The tears dried and fury replaced her contrition. “I’ll sue you. If you fire me, I’ll sue you for every dime you have.”

  Gabe slowly climbed to his feet. “Try it, Roxanne. Please. I want you to. I’m asking you to.” That gave her pause, and he smiled. “You were getting the axe today, no matter what.”

  “What?” Roxanne and Catherine asked in unison.

  He spared Catherine a brief glance. “You should have told me, right from the start, and spared us both two years’ worth of grief.” Then he returned his attention to Roxanne. “I did a little digging into what happened at the Marconi party. And the strangest thing kept happening. Your name kept coming up. So you go right ahead and make your next call to a lawyer. Make sure he’s a really good one. Because my next call is to the King County Sheriff’s Department. And just so you know, unlike Catherine, I play hardball. I will see to it that her name and reputation are re
stored and that you are forced to take responsibility for your actions.”

  Without a word, Roxanne spun on her heel and forged a swift path across his office. She’d barely reached the door when Gabe stopped her. “Once you get your legal issues straightened out, I suggest you consider a fresh start somewhere else, Roxanne. Someplace far out of my reach.” He let that sink in before adding, “And just so you know, I have a long, long reach.”

  She swung around at that, aiming her vindictiveness straight at Catherine, where she knew it would do the most damage. “You may think you’ve won, but you haven’t. Not when he finds out the truth. When he discovers you’re damaged goods, he’ll end your affair.” Then she switched her gaze to Gabe. “I did a little digging of my own. Placed a few phone calls. Maybe pretended to be someone I wasn’t in order to get all the juicy tidbits I needed. Has your lovely bride-to-be warned you that she can’t have children? If you marry her, it’s the end of your branch of the precious Piretti line. I hope you two have a really great life.” And with that, she slammed from the room.

  Silence reigned for an endless moment. Catherine stood, frozen in place. She had to say something. Anything. But it was just a fight to continue breathing. The ability to speak was a sheer impossibility.

  “Catherine?”

  She shook her head and held up a hand in an effort to fend him off. Not that it stopped him. He crossed to her side and, catching her off guard, scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the sitting area by the windows. There he lowered her onto the couch and followed her down, aligning their bodies one to the other. Catherine had no idea how long he held her, murmuring words of comfort and sharing his warmth until the trembling gradually eased.

  “I’m sorry, Gabe,” she said at last. “I should have told you right from the start.”

  “She wasn’t lying, was she?”

  Catherine shook her head. “I can’t have this conversation. Not like this. Not with you touching me.” She tried to push him away, attempted to put some small amount of distance between them. Not that it worked. “Gabe, please. I can’t do this.”