An Act of Love

by Brooke Hastings

  "Don't stop now," he grinned.

  She was just tired enough to call his bluff. When her lips provocatively lingered against his mouth she felt him stiffen slightly and draw away. The fact that he so obviously wanted more than a kiss did wonders for her frame of mind. From time to time over the past few days she'd had her doubts about what she was doing, but now she pushed them aside. Things were going to work out perfectly.

  Chapter Seven

  It only took till Saturday morning for Randy to realize that if she didn't put some distance between herself and Luke Griffin she'd wind up securely in his arms. Given her behavior he probably had every right to assume it was what she wanted, and on some level he seemed to want it, too.

  Her sister Linda clearly thought she was hopeless. She called Sunday night for her first progress report, listening to Randy's account of events with growing dismay.

  "For heaven's sake, Randy, there's a limit to how good an actress you are," she said when Randy was finished. "You can't let him get that close to you. You were supposed to be businesslike and unimpressed, remember? And let me tell you, Luke was suspicious going in. He called Roger last week and asked some very telling questions. Roger gave him some story about meeting you when you came back from New Hampshire and being startled by how alike we are, but still—Luke's not stupid!"

  "I can't help it," Randy answered weakly. "I want him to be attracted to me, Lin. He teases me, so I tease him right back. After all, if I freeze him off—"

  "But you don't have to issue invitations to the man," Lin interrupted. "Find a middle ground, Randy. You want some time to sort out your feelings, don't you?"

  "Of course I do. I just seem to forget that whenever I'm in the same room with him."

  Linda gave an exasperated sigh. "And you have to ask yourself if you're in love with him? What on earth do you think you feel?"

  "I don't know. We hardly know each other. After all, I thought I was in love with Sean…"

  "We've been through that before. I think you know that Sean Raley isn't fit to shine Luke Griffin's boots."

  "I suppose." Randy also supposed that having the same conversation all over again wouldn't accomplish anything. "I'll try to keep a grip on my common sense, Lin. So how are you and Roger doing?"

  "Wonderfully. I'm going to Paris with him in a few days. He's trying to lure some obscure director whom he claims is a genius into doing a movie for him."

  Randy immediately suggested to Linda that as long as she was going to be in Paris anyway she might take a look around the shops for merchandise suitable for C & D's boutiques. "You're one of the world's champion shoppers," she teased. "If you could discover some unusual items that no one else has come across I know Dad would be impressed."

  After talking over the idea Linda asked Randy to put their father on the line. He seemed pleased by his older daughter's interest, but wary of taking her too seriously. At least Linda understood that the ball was squarely in her court, which Randy considered a positive sign.

  When Randy walked into the office on Monday morning she found a note on her desk from Rita Washington, Luke's secretary, saying that Luke wanted to see her at ten o'clock to discuss her recommendations for the White Hills store. She just had time to review her notes and the data Luke had given her before going down the hall to his office. On the way she passed a grim-looking Rita Washington. Although Randy smiled and murmured, "Good morning," Rita kept right on going, as if she'd scarcely noticed.

  The door to Luke's private office was slightly ajar, so Randy poked her head inside to see if he was ready to meet with her. He was standing in the center of the room, facing her; in front of him, with her back to Randy, was a willowy blonde almost as tall as Luke was, her arms carelessly twined around his neck. Luke's hands were resting lightly on the woman's waist.

  Their eyes met over his companion's shoulder, but he made no attempt to disengage himself from her grip. "Come on in, Miranda," he said.

  The woman glanced around, decided that Randy was no one important and kissed Luke softly on the mouth. As her hands dropped from around his neck they paused to straighten his tie. Randy decided that it had been perfectly placed until the woman touched it.

  She managed a friendly smile, a major tribute to her ability as an actress. "You're Katrina Sorensen, aren't you?" she said. "I recognize you from your work in commercials, but you're even more beautiful in person than your photographs." The statement was true, even if Randy hated to admit it. Katrina was stunning, her hair a thick and sensual lion's mane, her eyes cat-like and glowingly green, her facial structure feline and exotic. Even her figure was sensuously rounded, not bony and angular like so many models' bodies were. Despite Roger Bennett's comments on the woman's shortcomings it was impossible not to be jealous.

  A perfectly shaped eyebrow was cocked in Randy's direction. "Thank you. And you're… ?" Katrina let the question dangle, as if to indicate that whoever Randy was, she was of absolutely no consequence.

  Luke casually removed his hands from Katrina's waist and made the introduction. "This is Miranda Dunne, Katie. She's Jonathan Conover's granddaughter and Bill Dunne's daughter. Needless to say, she's also a future V.I.P. around this company."

  "Why didn't you tell me that before?" Katrina scolded huskily. Randy thought irritably that even her voice was marvelous. "I'm very glad to meet you, Miranda. Your grandfather and your father are charming gentlemen, and I certainly hope I'll have the opportunity to work for them."

  "Randy and I have some business to take care of, Katie. Run along now. I'll talk to your agent about a contract some time in the next couple of days." Katrina didn't take offense at being talked down to in such a manner, but merely smiled and thanked Luke very prettily for his time. Then she strode out the door, her body swinging from side to side with lithe, tawny grace.

  Her soft, little-girl manner reminded Randy of some of the starlets she'd come across in Hollywood. They seemed so feminine and helpless that men lined up to take care of them, but in reality they were as tough as stevedores, with ambition clogging every pore.

  Irritated by Katrina's performance, she reacted before her better judgment could stop her. "Your tie is crooked," she said, approaching Luke as she lisped out the words. "Let me fix it for you."

  His failure to comment as she reached up and pulled the knot over a fraction should have warned her about his mood, but she never even noticed. "That's much better," she cooed. "But you know, Mr. Griffin, you really should have shut your door. I do hope I didn't interrupt anything."

  When he frowned Randy realized that he hadn't cared for her advice. "If I'd wanted to do something that was worth keeping private," he said a little curtly, "I would have done it at home." He walked over to his desk and sat down, motioning toward a chair on the other side. "Have a seat. Let's talk about what you've learned."

  His clipped tone of voice made Randy uncomfortable, as did his choice of seating arrangement. She'd assumed that they'd sit on the couch and talk informally, as they had on Tuesday, but instead Luke was turning the session into a kind of interview. Less than confident about her conclusions, yet eager to earn his respect, she was hesitant to even begin lest she choose the wrong opening. Luke, who was watching her almost coolly now, offered absolutely no help.

  "Do you want me to tell you what I think about the White Hills store?" she finally asked.

  "That's what you're here for." He pulled out a cigarette but didn't light it. "And not, as you seem to think, to indicate your opinions about either Katrina or myself."

  I should have kept my mouth shut, she thought, but said aloud, "I was only kidding. You didn't—"

  Luke cut her off. "Something you're very good at. But I'm spending time I really don't have to work with you today, so you might try to be serious about it."

  Randy bit back the urge to retort that she was very serious, and that furthermore, if he were really so all-fired busy she'd come back another time. She had to remind herself that she'd learned all about his temper
in Maine, and that he'd undoubtedly get over what was bothering him soon enough.

  "Okay." She shifted her position slightly, as if greater physical comfort would somehow help matters. "I think we should close the present store as soon as we can open a new one in a better location. It will be years before all the construction in that area is finished, and in the meantime, it's dirty and confusing. We're not losing money yet, but we will be within two years if the current trend continues. Besides, we'd still be the only major retail outlet in the area, and the store is old and unattractive."

  Luke didn't seem particularly impressed by her analysis. "Why are we losing money?" he asked.

  Randy thought she'd already told him, but elaborated. "The area's full of dirt and noise, the streets are all ripped up and there are so many detours you have trouble finding your way into the parking lot. When you add the fact that the store is old and unexciting to shop in, it's not surprising we have a problem. I realize that some of the departments are doing well, but they're the exceptions."

  "Why have they done well?"

  By now Randy was beginning to resent not only Luke's failure to respond to anything she was saying but also his rapid-fire style of questioning her. Nonetheless she went on evenly, "C & D's children's clothing departments are known for having an excellent selection of good-quality merchandise at competitive prices. The designer boutiques have apparently attracted a faithful clientele that will come to the store in spite of the hassle. For major purchases like carpeting or draperies people will comparison shop to find the best buy. But those are all special cases. In general we've lost a lot of customers, and if we don't do something soon I'm afraid we'll lose them permanently."

  "What's under construction there?" Luke lit up his cigarette and leaned back in his chair.

  "A major new hotel, a medical office building and a highway interchange. There might be a new county building also, but no decision's been made yet."

  "How do you know that?" Luke asked.

  Randy was more than a little exasperated by the question. "How do you think I know?" she demanded. "I asked about it, of course!"

  "Then you asked the wrong person," Luke told her curtly. "The project will be approved."

  Randy quickly voiced a protest. "If that's inside information I don't see how I was supposed to find it out."

  "Simple. All you had to do was ask me if I knew, which I did. The projects you've mentioned—will they be good for business?"

  "Probably they will—eventually," Randy said. "But it will be years before everything is finished, and we'd still be stuck with an old-fashioned, deteriorating building that's unpleasant to shop in and—"

  "Can the building be renovated?"

  Randy's temper was fast approaching the breaking point. "I suppose so. But it would still look like a stack of cigar boxes, and all the other stores have modern—"

  "Is there anything we can do about that?" Luke interrupted yet again.

  "How should I know?" Randy flung back. "I'm not an architect, just a persecuted trainee!"

  Luke paid no attention to her outburst, but reached into the side drawer of his desk and took out a file folder. He tossed it on the desk facing Randy, who silently opened it, her body stiff with reproach. Inside were architect's blueprints and sketches showing how the present building could be enlarged and renovated. The shape would be changed from a box-like structure into a graceful arc and the interior would be redesigned to remove or disguise columns and break up the space in interesting, innovative ways.

  "If you're not an architect," he said blandly, "then hire one. Howell and Morita specialize in this type of job."

  Randy didn't answer. She simply closed the folder and stared angrily at Luke, feeling that he had deliberately withheld the sketches in order to set a trap for her.

  "The city officials we've talked to feel that that area of town could become a vital part of the central business district again, given enough help from private business," he stated. "C & D has always been a community-oriented company. Don't you think we should be a part of that effort?"

  "I suppose it would be good public relations," Randy answered. "Even profitable over the long term."

  "What's on the land adjacent to the store?"

  Here we go again, she thought with a sigh. She tried to picture the surrounding area. "An abandoned service station and a vacant lot—and some partially occupied buildings, and, uh, parking spaces."

  "Who owns the land?"

  "I don't know."

  "Why didn't you look it up?"

  "It didn't occur to me to look it up, Mr. Griffin." Randy glared at him. "Should it have?"

  "Obviously, yes. But since it didn't, I'll tell you. Dunne Industries does. So what do you propose that we do with it?"

  "You could have told me that before I went up there, just like you could have shown me the blueprints! Do you enjoy setting people up? Is that it?"

  Luke frowned and repeated the question in the tone of voice he might have used with an annoying adolescent. "I asked you what you propose that we do with it."

  The only thoughts in Randy's head concerned where Luke Griffin and his bloody land could darn well go. "I don't know," she muttered.

  "Don't tell me you don't know. Think about it until you can give me an answer."

  Randy looked down into her lap. She found it impossible to think about anything except her own anger and hurt. There was no question in her mind that Luke had deliberately set out to give her a hard time, but why? Because of a mild little joke? Because he'd had a lousy morning? Or because he actively disliked her? After the intimate ways he'd touched her in Maine the possibility was insupportable. It didn't matter that he believed she was someone else. She wasn't thinking too rationally just then.

  He leaned forward, picked up a pencil and began to tap it on his desk. "I'm waiting, Miranda."

  "I—I don't know," Randy stuttered, suddenly close to tears. "I can't think when you… sit there and glare at me that way."

  "I wasn't glaring." Luke threw down the pencil in disgust. "Is that what you plan to do when you're a vice president of this corporation and the board puts you on the hot seat with an hour's worth of tough questions? Sit there and cry?"

  As an actress Randy had often been forced to listen to painful criticism and try to learn from it. She was no crybaby; on the contrary, in two years of acting classes and repertory she'd broken down exactly once, around the time that Sean had left her.

  "You weren't only questioning me," she said in a low, intense voice, "you were attacking me. It was personal, so that's the way I took it."

  Luke stared at her a moment longer and then ran a hand through his hair. "The land," he said. "What should we do with it?"

  Obviously he didn't intend to deal with her accusation, but Randy read regret in his eyes and it was all she really needed to see. She tried to concentrate on the question, more or less thinking out loud. "I suppose we could sell everything if we change locations—a bigger lot would be worth much more to a developer," she said. "Or we could stay where we are and sell off the portion that we don't need for the store. Or we could develop it ourselves."

  Luke leaned back in his chair again. "And which are you recommending, Miranda?"

  There was a warmth to his tone that hadn't been there all day. Startled, Randy asked him, "What happened to your rotten mood?"

  "I think you shamed me out of it," he admitted with a half-smile. "Go over to the couch and think about how we should use the land, and I'll get us a couple of cups of coffee."

  "Cream, no sugar," Randy said, getting up. "And… thanks." She'd seldom felt such relief.

  When Luke returned a minute later Randy was already settled on the couch. She held out her hand for the mug of coffee he carried, smiling at him. "Why did you do that?" she asked.

  He sat down a healthy distance away from her, saying, "Why did I do what?"

  "You know perfectly well what. It made me feel as though you hated me. Did the stuff about Katri
na really make you that angry with me?"

  "Only because I was three-quarters of the way there." Luke took a few sips of coffee and put the mug down on the glass table. "Should I tell you about my weekend, Miranda? I worked, all day Saturday and most of Sunday. Then last night I went out to dinner with a woman I'd just met who turned out to be a royal pain in the neck. The restaurant was supposed to be first-rate, but I wound up with a case of food poisoning, probably from the fish I ate. When I got into the office this morning Rita told me she has to have four half-days' worth of dental work done in the next few weeks. My office goes to pieces when Rita is away."

  When he paused for another sip of coffee Randy risked a teasing suggestion. "You could tell her to have all of them pulled and get herself dentures. That would only take one day."

  Luke laughed and shook his head. "As a matter of fact, that's exactly what I did say, but not in quite that tone. I can't believe I actually yelled at Rita over her teeth. I hope she doesn't send Elroy after me. But there's more."

  "More?" Randy repeated.

  "Katrina. She's one of the most beautiful women I've ever met, but she makes the lady I went out with last night seem like a sweetheart. I spent twenty-five minutes convincing her to do the Dallas promotion for us, soothing her supposed fears that it was more complicated than anything she'd done before. And then she puts on that little-girl act of hers and starts negotiating. I don't know why she bothers with an agent. Do you know what it's like to try to talk to a woman who keeps putting her hands all over your body? When at the same time she's holding you up for every dime you have?"

  "I can't say that I do." Randy smiled to herself, very happy to know that Katrina Sorensen drove Luke right up the wall.

  "Then you're lucky. If she weren't perfect for the job I wouldn't put up with her. And then you come in, Miss Dunne, and start handing out your usual quota of snide comments at a time when I wasn't about to put up with them."

  "But I was only…"