Call it Love

by Kress, Alyssa

  If she hadn't intended to seduce Chess and convince him he was the father of her nonexistent baby, then why the hell had she put on that nightgown?

  With more force than was strictly necessary, Chess folded the paper together again. He was speculating and unwisely. Cookie had made her feelings very clear.

  She did not want him. No, she didn't even need him. Contrary to his so-logical deduction, she was not pregnant. Strangely, Chess's primary reaction to this information had been...disappointment.

  He tossed the newspaper onto the table where it slid against a bottle of ethyl alcohol. The alcohol sloshed and spilled over, wetting the paper.

  Good, Chess told himself, even as his instinct was to save that miserable photograph.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  "I'm trying to avoid Chess." Cookie strolled down the length of Kate's desk, surveying the memorabilia collected along its top. It was very genteel memorabilia, but memorabilia all the same. For all her cool elegance, Kate was a sentimental fool. Like Chess, she hid more than met the eye.

  Kate leaned back in her seat and raised a tawny eyebrow at her daughter-in-law. "You figured my office was one of the last places you might run into Chess?"

  "Oh, no." Cookie found a photograph of her father and picked it up. Her dad had known how to smile—at least since he'd married Kate. Perhaps he'd also been a smiler before Cookie's mother had died when Cookie was five—she couldn't remember well enough to say. All she knew was she hadn't been able to do the trick.

  She put the picture down. "I don't expect to avoid Chess altogether," she told Kate. "But when we do meet up, I figure he won't be able to get as mad at me as he'd like if you're in the room."

  A faint smile curved Kate's mouth. "You believe I have the power to curb his temper?"

  Cookie perched a hip on Kate's desk. "He wouldn't want to lose control in front of you."

  Kate regarded her for a long moment. Cookie wondered if Kate thought Cookie's outfit was too loud. It was a navy knit tube dress with a pattern of red and white stripes.

  Instead of commenting on Cookie's choice of dress wear, however, Kate said, "I saw the photograph in this morning's newspaper."

  A funny feeling snaked through Cookie's stomach. She'd seen the photo, too. Ruth had shown it to her this morning. In fact, she'd roused Cookie from bed with the doorbell the instant Chess had left the house.

  Confused by Ruth's appearance and still half asleep, Cookie hadn't at first recognized the couple displayed in Ruth's eight-by-ten glossy. At first all she'd seen was a romantic clasp, a man in a dark suit holding a woman in a one-armed embrace. The woman's skirt flowed around her as she balanced against his hip. It had taken her a full half minute to realize that the man and woman gazing at each other with such rapt fascination were Chester Bradshaw and herself.

  "When—?" Cookie had asked in shock.

  Ruth had looked amused. "Last night when you were getting off the plane. Don't you remember?"

  Cookie looked up with a frown.

  "You really don't know what's going on, do you?" Ruth remarked.

  "Pardon?"

  "Never mind. Suffice it to say that Chess isn't going to be very happy when he hears I've given this photograph to the press. It's on the front page of the Datebook this morning. They love you over there."

  "They do?"

  Ruth shook her head in disgust. "Chess didn't tell you? The photograph from your wedding was on the front page the day after you left town. You're the storybook couple, the king and queen of perfume and romance."

  Cookie stared at the woman in horror. "You're joking."

  "Not at all." Ruth pointed at the photograph still in Cookie's hands. "Look at that. It's chemistry anyone can see. Very hot. And better than that, this is one commodity that Bernard Korman can't steal."

  Cookie lowered her gaze to the photograph. It was almost painful to look at. "All I did was trip on the carpet."

  After a moment of apparent surprise, Ruth laughed. "Oh, Cookie, who the hell cares? You're an actress. You know the score. It's the illusion that matters. And man, have we got an illusion."

  Ruth had grinned then and told Cookie exactly what she wanted to do for the new ad campaign.

  "It was just an illusion," Cookie told Kate now, her eyes roaming up to the factory sash window above the desk. Chess was going to have a fit when he found out about the new ad campaign. Cookie had warned Ruth he wouldn't agree to it, but Ruth had insisted he didn't have to know a thing until it was too late to disapprove.

  "An illusion," Kate observed. "That's what Chess said." Her eyes were a lighter shade of green than her son's, more like emeralds than the sea. At the moment they looked pleading. "I said some pretty harsh things about his character when you announced you were getting married. I...wish I hadn't. He's not so bad, you know."

  Cookie's gaze lowered to the other woman. She thought about Chess offering to be the father of her unborn child. "No, he's not so bad."

  Kate's tense mouth twitched up into a smile. "And he's changed since you got engaged. Loosened up some."

  Cookie's brows jumped upward.

  "It's true." Kate was smiling as she reached for her purse. "You're welcome to hide out here for as long as you like, but I've got a meeting to attend."

  "Chicken," Cookie accused, but Kate's remark echoed inside. She'd changed Chess?

  "Not chicken," Kate laughed back. "Of my own son?"

  As if in response to this statement of bravado, the door opened nearly under her hand. Chess walked in, narrowly missing a collision with his mother.

  "Pardon me," he quickly said. Stepping back, he managed to avoid contact.

  Kate became an instant block of ice. "I was just on my way out. Was it important?"

  "It can hold. Where are you going?" His tone was clipped, like an army commander briefing an officer. In the meantime, he managed to ignore Cookie's existence altogether.

  "Planning commission," Kate answered. "They're talking about making us tear down the east loading dock again."

  Chess gave a curt shake of the head. "As if we don't have enough problems. Let me know what happens."

  "Of course."

  It occurred to Cookie as she watched this brisk exchange that it was like watching two knights, armored to the teeth and brandishing shields, but both desperate to avoid pain.

  The intercom buzzed on Kate's desk. The receptionist's voice followed. "Kate, it's N.J. Williams."

  Kate had been looking up at Chess, but this announcement froze her. Her face suddenly appeared stark. "I...had better take that." She turned quickly.

  Only after she'd made for the phone did Chess appear to notice Cookie. The expression on his face barely changed from the cool dispassion he'd shown his mother. "Hello, Cookie. What brings you here this afternoon?" He was Mr. Polite again, just as he'd been on their honeymoon, just as he'd been all those years as her father's emissary. The picture of distant civility.

  Inwardly, Cookie smirked. She knew better. He was neither distant nor particularly civil. More than that, he was definitely going to be enraged when he discovered what Cookie had done that morning.

  Stilling her qualms over that fact, she laced her fingers around one knee and smiled at him. "I came by to ruin your day."

  Chess raised his brows.

  Behind her, Cookie could hear Kate on the telephone. "This isn't a very good time," Kate said in a strained, pleasant voice.

  "How do you plan to ruin my day?" Chess crossed his arms over his chest.

  Cookie steeled herself. "Your schedule this afternoon is going to include a little trip to Ruth's office."

  "It is?" For a moment he looked baffled, but then his face cleared. "Ah, the ad campaign. You know what she's planning?"

  "Yes," Cookie sighed. "But I promised her I wouldn't tell you about it."

  Chess's eyes narrowed. "What is it?"

  Cookie glared at him. "Didn't you hear what I said? I promised Ruth I wouldn't tell you."

  "For Christ's sake, C
ookie— Oh." All at once he seemed to understand. He gave her a careful look. "You promised her you wouldn't tell me what the campaign was but not that you wouldn't advise me to find out for myself."

  She released a breath of relief. "Right."

  A slow smile crept onto his mouth. "That's walking a rather fine line."

  "Yes, well." Cookie looked away from the unexpected warmth of that smile. Her emotions were so easily set loose by this man. A simple upward lift of his lips had him capturing her heart.

  Earlier that day, with Ruth waiting for an answer, Cookie had made a new deal with herself. Okay, she was going to care. She couldn't help it. And Ruth was offering her a chance to be useful. How Cookie longed to be useful. But she wouldn't expect anything back in return. That was the deal. Whatever she did for Chess would be given freely.

  Now from Kate's desk, Cookie looked at him. "I didn't want to break my confidence with Ruth, but at the same time I do have an obligation to my husband."

  His smile abruptly disappeared. "I'm glad you think so."

  "Of course I do. All ties and bonds, remember? And Chess." Cookie stopped, biting her lower lip. "I really am letting Ruth down by telling you, so...if you could at least hear her out before nixing the whole thing, I'd appreciate it."

  "Quid pro quo?" He thought a moment before giving a brisk nod. "Sounds fair."

  "Thank you." Not that this would do her much good. Ruth was going to hate Cookie after this, which was really too bad. For the first time in her life, Cookie had hoped she might make a female friend.

  "No," Chess said, giving her a baffled look. "Thank you."

  Behind Cookie, Kate was still talking on the telephone. "All right," she appeared to concede. "I'll meet you there, the same place. Now, I really have to go." She hung up the phone.

  At the sound, Chess immediately returned his attention to his mother. "Give me a call when you get back in. I want to run some production numbers past you."

  Kate glanced down at her watch. There were two red spots on the tops of her cheekbones. "I doubt I'll be coming back to the office after this."

  "Tomorrow, then." Chess said.

  It was painful for Cookie to watch Kate. She obviously loved her son, but she didn't seem to know how to show him affection.

  Inspiration struck like a ton of bricks.

  "Hey, Kate," Cookie suggested. "If you and Chess have something to discuss, why don't you do it over dinner at our place?"

  Mother and son both turned to stare at her with identical expressions of shock. Cookie might as well have suggested they take a jump out a window together.

  Cookie, on the other hand, was liking her idea more by the second. "I can throw together a casserole."

  Kate broke the ensuing silence with a delicately cleared throat. "That's very...kind of you to offer. But tonight is, um, I have a previous obligation."

  "Some other night, then," Cookie persisted. She tilted her head up at Chess. "We really should have your mother over for dinner, don't you think?"

  Chess looked down at her as though he had a number of thoughts in his head, but none of them concerned having his mother over for dinner.

  "If not tonight," Cookie continued, "then some time next week?"

  "Oh, next week," Kate weakly protested. She glanced over at her son. "It's really tight."

  "I'm sure you have one night free," Cookie insisted. "Why don't you check your calendar?"

  "But—"

  "Right now." Cookie smiled. Kate wanted this, Cookie could tell. But she also needed to make it look like Cookie had pushed her into it. "We'll make a definite date."

  With a show of great reluctance, Kate returned to her desk and flipped several pages of her calendar. "Tuesday looks free," she admitted.

  Cookie clapped her hands together. "Perfect. One of my nights off. Say seven-thirty?"

  "Seven-thirty is fine." Kate's gaze skipped to her son. "Is that all right with you, Chess?"

  Both women waited with bated breath, knowing there was a lot more to the question than it seemed.

  Chess's glance roved past his mother to settle on Cookie. There was the promise of later retribution in the depths of his murky green eyes. "Tuesday, seven-thirty. I'll make a note of it," he drawled. Then he turned on his heel and went out the door.

  "Oh, my," Kate said once the door had closed rather firmly behind him. "I'm not sure that was such a good idea."

  "I am," Cookie staunchly replied. But she, too, gazed at the closed office door. This was definitely one of those things she couldn't expect Chess to thank her about.

  ~~~

  With Chess's key in his hand, Alex strolled down the hall toward the storage area. He nodded to a few people who passed him going in the other direction. They were all dressed as he was, in white lab coats. He was whistling, like he hadn't a care in the world.

  Oh, no, not Alex. He was a good kid. Never gave his mother a spot of trouble... He was only into debt now for ten thousand dollars. Ten thousand!

  Still whistling, Alex came to the locked storeroom. He stopped and put Chess's key in the lock.

  He was in a state of suspended shock, still unclear how he'd fallen into such a pass. Had it been this past weekend when he'd lost the first round and then agreed to double or nothing? No. Alex had to be at least this honest with himself. It had started with the very first card game a month ago.

  A friend had gotten him into the illegal poker game. Everyone else in the room had been older than the two teenagers, but they'd been cool. A mixture of blue-collar types in tattoos and Wall Street sophisticates, they'd treated Alex as if he were simply one of the guys. Nobody had ever treated Alex like an adult before that night.

  The gambling itself had been another plus. The rush of it had dispelled the achy restlessness that had plagued Alex since his father died. Not grief. He hadn't allowed himself to feel grief. That was kid stuff, crying and such.

  But the memory of running to the bathroom in response to his mother's screams and then finding her panic-stricken over his father's unresponsive body— Even though it had been a year, that moment would not leave him alone.

  Except when he'd been in a card game. Then he could forget. It hadn't hurt that he'd won two hundred dollars that first night.

  Probably they'd colluded to let him win, Alex now realized as he let himself into the storage room. They'd smelled a sucker and vacuumed him in. What an idiot he'd been. Since then, he'd checked out a couple books about poker. He'd discovered it was a far more complicated game than he'd presumed. But he was learning. Hopefully.

  The storage room was dark. After closing the door behind himself, Alex flipped on the lights. Rows of metal shelving stretched out before him. On them sat an array of little blue bottles. The first and only existing batch of Temptation.

  The bottles were like an army, the army that was supposed to save Scents Allure. Thanks to Chess's little lecture earlier, Alex knew exactly what he was risking here.

  A sound behind him made Alex jump. The door opened.

  Henry Dublin, Head Technician, stood in the opening.

  Act natural. Alex put a hand over his chest. "Man, you nearly gave me a heart attack."

  "Good thing you didn't have one." Henry stepped into the room. "The boss might get mad if I killed his little brother."

  Half-brother, Alex corrected in his head.

  "Whatcha doin' in here, small fry?" Henry didn't seem too concerned about the answer, though, directing his attention with a strange sort of contempt toward the array of blue bottles.

  Alex knew that nobody was allowed near the prototypes except for Chess, their mother, and a few upper management types like Henry and Diana.

  "Chess sent me," he claimed, fingering the key in his hand. "He wants me to bring him one of the bottles so he can give it to that advertising lady at Coldwell this afternoon."

  "Huh." Henry redirected his critical glare toward Alex. "That right?"

  "Yup." It was true. Chess had asked Alex to get him a bottle. One bot
tle. Alex had planned on taking two.

  "You know they're making us sign these out now, don't you?" Henry pointed to a clipboard hanging from a nail by the door. "They're clamping down on security. Something about a leak."

  "Right, right." Alex grabbed one of the bottles, dropped it into the pocket of his lab coat and picked up the clipboard. His mother had explained that the ad campaign Chess had planned had essentially been stolen by Korman Cosmetics.

  It was one sin of which Alex was thankfully innocent. He signed his name on the sheet attached to the clipboard.

  Henry shrugged. "Lotta fuss over nothin'."

  Alex bit his tongue. Temptation was more like everything than nothing. The new fragrance would be key to keeping the company running. But maybe Henry had another job lined up. Chess said he was the best. He could probably write his own ticket. Maybe that's why the old man had been looking somewhat happier for the past week or so.

  "You don't like the scent?" Alex asked. Maybe he could keep Henry talking long enough he'd forget Alex had already taken a bottle.

  "Can't see spending three hundred dollars for a little spritz or two." Henry lifted a shoulder. "But I'm sure glad some people are willin' t'do it. Gives me a job and pays the mortgage." He smiled widely, as at some private joke.

  He definitely had another job lined up. Or at least Alex hoped he did. He hated to think the old man's home mortgage was depending on Chess's gamble.

  A new voice intruded on the men's conversation. Clipped and angry. "What is this door doing open—? Oh." Diana stopped in the doorway. Her gaze flicked over Henry and snagged on Alex. She raised an eyebrow.

  Alex supposed it didn't look too good that there was a crowd in the storeroom with the precious army of bottles. He felt very hot under his lab coat.

  "I came by to check the fit of the labels." Diana held up a scrap of paper.

  Looking amused, Henry shifted to get out of her way.

  Diana squeezed past and tried to press the scrap over the front of one of the plain blue bottles. "Temptation" was spelled out in letters that snaked down over the label.

  Seeing the label actually adorn the bottle made Alex think. "Whoa. We can't use that name."