by Mary Calmes
He could tell I'd had a revelation, and smiled smugly.
"Did Sonja leave you flowers again?"
"Yes." He smiled but it never touched his eyes. They didn't sparkle like they did when he was actually happy. When he was really pleased there was a warm glow that was irresistible.
"She's got a huge crush on you, you know." I smiled because it was sweet.
"Yes, I know."
"But that's not—"
"I've told you and I've told her that I do not appreciate her advances toward me no matter how innocent they may be. I gave specific directions that the behavior needed to stop." He spoke very slowly, very crisply, spacing each of his words so I'd be sure to hear them. "It is not appropriate office decorum and will no longer be tolerated. Between the flowers and the little notes and the chocolates on Valentine's Day, I'm done."
"What if I make her promise?"
"No," he snapped.
"But, Boss, it's just not—"
"Call Darcy and tell her that I want her moved today and a new receptionist in here tomorrow. I want it done before lunch."
"Seriously?"
"Yes," he assured me.
"What if Darcy's got no one else to send us? You're saying you'd rather answer your own phone than have her here?"
"You answer my phone, not her."
This was an excellent point.
"I want her out," he repeated.
"But what if they've got nowhere to send her? Maybe then she can't afford rent or—"
"I don't care."
"Wow. That's a little harsh, don't you think?"
"I don't," he said irritably, and I could see that his patience was at an end. I knew instantly that there had to be something else bothering him. He hated to be irritated, hated repeating himself, but minor annoyances never got to him. He was a rock. "She goes today. I've had it. I will not be bothered every day for no reason."
"But—"
"She's gone. I gave her every chance."
"Why should she be punished because she finds you irresistible?" I thought maybe I could appeal to his vanity. "I would think it would nice to walk into the office first thing every morning and know that someone thought you were the absolute epitome of everything that was right with the world.
I know I'd like it. It would be very flattering."
"Unlike others...." Meaning me, of course. And I got it even before he let it hang in the air between us. "I don't need my ego perpetually stroked. She needs to go, and go now. And furthermore, I don't think you would find it flattering, I think you'd find it to be more like harassment. At least I would hope you would have that much integrity." After a beat he asked, "Do you?"
I looked down and counted to ten again so I wouldn't tell him where to go. He could be so arrogant that sometimes just thinking about telling him off made it almost impossible not to. When I looked back up he was staring at me again with the dark scowl he held the patent for. After a minute I squinted at him, making his head small, thinking how easy it would be to crush. How satisfying if his eyes bugged out when it exploded.
"You're doing that thing with your eyes."
"What thing?"
"That thing you do where you make my head small and then think how easy it would be to crush it."
I grunted. He knew me too well.
"Listen, just tell Miss Lawson that I'm sure she'll be happier elsewhere. Also," he added, pulling an envelope out of the top drawer of his desk, "give this to Miss Warner when she comes by. I don't have time to speak to her."
I took it and got up to leave.
"Don't you want to know what it is?" he asked slowly.
"You're usually so inquisitive."
He meant nosy.
"Jory?"
"You mean nosy." I said flatly.
"Is that what I said?" He was back to clipping his words.
"No."
"So do you plan to be surly all day then?"
"No."
"I see," he nodded, taking a breath and getting up to go to the window of his office. "Tell Miss Warner that in lieu of my attendance at the Bachelor Auction next week, I've given her a check for ten thousand dollars. That's far more then she would have gotten had I participated, so she should be well pleased."
It was an AIDS benefit, and in my opinion he was shortchanging himself. I could just see Miss Therese Warner and Miss Lacey Collins waging the battle of the pocketbooks over who would have my boss as a dinner companion that night. I was sure it would go well into the thousands, much more than ten. Therese would see this as her opportunity to talk to him and convince him he was wrong about breaking it off with her. Lacey would be in defense mode, trying to keep all other women away from her man. She was the flavor of the month, and she did have Dane Harcourt after all, for the moment.
"What are you thinking?"
I looked over to where he was and noticed he was staring at me again. "Nothing."
"Tell me," he ordered, walking back to his desk and passing me the roses. "You think it's not enough? I'm not doing all that I can? I should do more for AIDS research?"
"Everyone should, but that's not it."
"Well, then?" He waited, and his gray eyes were back to mine.
"I just think that you'd have raised more money if you'd gone."
"Why?"
I smiled in spite of myself. He sounded like he was fishing for a compliment. "Isn't it obvious?"
"Not to me."
"Okay, I see it starting off with everybody bidding and then finally it'll come down to Miss Warner and Miss Lawson fighting it out for the privilege of your company."
"You do," he said tiredly.
"I do," I told him. Hell, he'd asked. "And maybe Miss Palmer and Miss Smythe will want to bid too. It'll be a feeding frenzy."
"I see."
"Don't you think so?"
"Well, we'll never know, will we?"
"Guess not." I shrugged, putting his car keys that I still had in my hand down on his desk.
"Also, should Mr. Reid come by, he is to be removed at once. I've already made my feelings perfectly clear to him on the subject of any unsolicited visitations to this office. So, should he come by, he knows what reception to expect. You should alert building security at once. Am I making myself clear?"
"Crystal."
"Good."
"He called me last night," I threw out, remembering having seen the familiar number on my cell phone after Detective Kage dropped me off. I hadn't even heard it ring while I was taking my hour-long shower. I had to wash away all traces of the night with the hottest water possible. It had felt amazing.
"Who?"
"Mr. Reid." I said, reaching the door.
"Wait," he ordered before I could open it. "When did he call? After work?"
"Yeah."
"Yes."
"Yes," I repeated, rolling my eyes.
"He called your cell?"
"Yes but I didn't actually talk to him. I was supposed to call him, he left a number."
"And were you going to call?"
"Yes," I almost snapped at him. "I have to tell him not to call me again because if you're not talking to him then I'm certainly not going to. It's none of my business whatever he wants to talk about."
"You're dying to know what that's all about, aren't you?"
He could be so conceited. Here I had this huge event transpire in my life and I wasn't going to tell him, but he thought I was just burning up with a need to know why Mr.
Caleb Reid had basically stalked him for the last three weeks.
"Jory."
I looked back at him. "You're right; I used to want to know."
"But you don't anymore."
"Now it doesn't matter so much." And even as I realized how irrational I was being, I was still annoyed. Logically, being mad at him for not caring about something I'd never told him was ridiculous. Unfortunately, I got a D in logic in college. I only passed because I had tried so hard and my professor knew it. I still remember her shaking her head
, asking me how in the world I couldn't grasp the material after spending time with both her and the grad student that was assisting her in class. Half the problem had been that her so-called teaching assistant had been much more interested in sleeping with me than in helping me learn anything. But I really was so seriously right-brained that it was a wonder I could walk a straight line. Time had done nothing to help this.
"Jory."
"Hmmm?"
"You're a million miles away. What's going on with you?"
This was my opening to come clean. "Nothing."
"Why don't you care about Mr. Reid anymore?"
I shrugged.
He was searching my eyes. "Your curiosity borders on compulsive and you are incessant with your questioning.
What's changed?"
"It's not my business."
"Which I've pointed out a million times and has never once stopped you."
"Well, it will from now on."
He gave me the slightest smile. "So, you're growing up is what you're telling me."
I let my irritation out in the sharp exhale of breath and turned for the door.
He walked over to stand in front of me. "Has he called you before?"
"No."
"And how did he get your number?"
"Someone gave it to him."
"Who?"
"I have no idea." I yawned involuntarily.
"Miss Lawson?"
"I dunno."
"You know," he said, closing the door as I opened it. "And it matters to me and that's why we're going to rid ourselves of this little problem."
"You're blowing this way out of proportion."
"Am I? Is my number being given out as well?"
"Nobody but me has that number here at work." I assured him. "And I don't want to die young—younger, so don't worry.
You're safe."
"It would be nice for you to know that someone cares as much about your privacy as you seem to care about mine."
"I don't seem to care, boss," I said tightly, emphasizing the word seem just as he had. "I do care."
"Well, we'll see, won't we?"
He was using his snide tone. I closed my eyes for a second so I wouldn't scream. Instead, once I took a breath, I asked him if that was all. He didn't answer so I tilted my head back so I could see his face. "Is that all?" I repeated.
"It is," he said, walking back to his desk.
I left his office and walked out to the main lobby with the roses.
"For me, doll?" Piper asked.
I grunted at her and went back.
Later that morning I was looking for my green highlighter as Therese Warner turned the corner and entered the outer office. As she headed toward Dane's door, she thanked Sonja for putting her through to him earlier in the morning.
"Miss Warner," I called before she turned the knob.
She looked at me over her shoulder as I came around my desk. "I have business to discuss with Mr. Harcourt." Her tone was sharp.
"No, I'm afraid you don't." I handed her the envelope. "Mr. Harcourt regrets that he will be unable to attend the benefit next week, but has provided you with a check for ten thousand dollars to make up for his absence at the charity event."
"Did you practice that all morning?" she said tightly.
Funny, but when she was dating my boss, she thought it was marvelous the way I brushed off his old flames, and we got along great. I liked her because she was so talkative.
Most of the others didn't bother to speak to me at all, except to order me to do something. Oh Jory, be a dear and do this that and that and the other for me. Dane will be delighted that you're doing me this small favor. Therese had been different. She would sit in the chairs outside his office and visit with me, asking if I was dating any cute boys, telling me that she wished her eyelashes were as long as mine, her eyes as big and dark.
"I swear, Jory," she would lean on the desk, "your eyes look just like melting chocolate, that beautiful deep brown with those flecks of gold. I just hate you. And all that thick, blond hair you've got, my goodness, it's a wonder you don't have a stalker. You look more like a model than an assistant."
And I'd laughed because she was funny but now our days of getting along were over.
"No, I told her. "I'm just telling you what he said."
She took the envelope. "Why isn't he going?"
"He didn't say."
"I'm sure you know, he tells you everything."
Such a lie. "He doesn't."
"He told me he does."
It was too bad that Therese didn't know when she was being baited. He'd probably said he told me everything to see what her reaction would be. I knew how he operated. It was too bad she didn't. "He didn't mean it."
"Dane means everything he says."
"You think?"
"I have to speak to him," she said, leaving my desk and walking back to his door. "It's very important."
"Is it?"
"I have to speak to him," she mumbled again as I walked up beside her. "He's not taking my calls. Here, at the club...
he doesn't answer his cell...."
"Oh," I needed to assure her, "that has nothing to do with you. He's got other stuff going on."
"So I'm just what, another irritation for him?" she snipped at me cattily.
"That's not what I meant," I told her seriously. There's nothing more irritating to me then having people misconstrue my words or my motivation. I hated people that assumed things.
"I need to see him, Jory," she said softly, trying to appeal to me like we were pals.
"Take the check and leave, Miss Warner," I told her, moving her hand gently off the doorknob. "He doesn't want to see you. Don't force a scene that you'll both regret."
"I wanted to marry him."
"I have no doubt that you did."
"One day everything was perfect and the next day he said he thought it would be better if we started seeing other people."
I nodded. I knew all this already. He gave all of them the same speech, the "you're-just-too-good-for-me speech" when he needed air and had to get away. The key to the man, the same as most, was to give him tons of space and act like he didn't matter at all. Be there when he wanted you and make yourself scarce when he didn't. But not one of them had ever been able to pull it off. They started out all outrageous and aloof and then fell hard and wanted to smother him and keep him locked up. He got under their skin so fast; the desire to cage him came with panicky obsession almost overnight. And I saw him recoil and then retreat behind his crazy jam-packed schedule and me. He loved to use me as a shield, sometimes even in person. He would show up with me in tow just to drive a point home. Dinner dates became dinner meetings, weekend retreats became working weekends, whenever he was looking for distance... he brought me along as a buffer.
Whenever he wanted the person he was with to stay back.
"I am so in love with him I can't see straight."
I was brought back sharply to the present. "I'm sorry, Miss Warner. Whaddya want me to say?"
She let out a shaky breath.
What was I supposed to do? It had to be agony for her. All she had to do was open the paper to the society page to see a picture of another woman on her ex-lover's arm. It had to be maddening, especially since he'd belonged to her such a short time ago.
"How can he just turn it off and forget about me so quickly?"
She was asking the question to the air, addressing no one in particular. I doubt she remembered I was even there. I just stood beside her looking stupid because I didn't know what else to do. If we were friends I could console her; sit up nights with her, make her go out on blind dates just so she'd be out and not stuck in the house, and stay up late and let her cry on my shoulder for hours. If she were my friend I'd entertain her constantly for as long as it took to get Dane Harcourt out of her system. The problem was Therese Warner was not my friend, so I felt awkward and embarrassed and desperate to leave the room.
"Good morning, Mrs
. Bradley," Sonja said from behind us.
We both turned and I offered a hand to the lady who joined us at the door to Dane's office.
Mrs. Miriam Bradley took my hand and squeezed it tightly.
She seemed genuinely pleased to see me and I felt like I knew her, as many times as we'd spoken on the phone.
"How are you, Jory?"
"Fine, thank you. Are you ready for your initial meeting with Mr. Harcourt?"
"I've been waiting for this for months. I'm more than ready."
"Terrific," I said cheerfully. I stepped aside so I could open the door for her and make sure Therese didn't get in at the same time. Not that she was trying to.
Mrs. Bradley didn't enter the room, but stood and looked at Therese. "Have we met? You seem very familiar to me."
Therese smiled automatically. "I think we have a membership at the same club in Highland Park. I seem to recall seeing you there. My father is Simon Warner."
"Yes, that's it," she smiled, offering Therese her hand. She was so beautiful and graceful. I knew women that didn't look that good at thirty let alone at sixty. I didn't understand guys that were in their fifties and sixties that went for trophy wives, when there were stunning women out there who were their own age. But I didn't get gay men that went for guys half their age either. I guess a midlife crisis was the same no matter who you wanted in bed with you. "You're Therese Warner. Well, my dear, I'm so glad to finally get to meet you in person."
Therese thanked her tightly, trying hard not to cry.
"Come in, Mrs. Bradley," Dane called from inside his office.
I closed the door behind her after she told Therese that she hoped they would be able to play a set of tennis together very soon. I turned back to Therese and begged her to leave.
"I want him to see me."
"He doesn't want to see you."
"Why? What did I do wrong?"
"I'm sure you haven't done anything wrong."
"Has he said something?" she brightened instantly. God, she was hoping so hard, I was sorry I'd said anything at all.
"No," I mumbled. "He hasn't said a word. But he's going to come out of his office in a minute, and I think you should leave before that and try and talk to him another time."
"How am I supposed to do that? I can't call him here and I can't call him at home. He doesn't answer his cell and he won't speak to me in public.... I've tried to—to talk to him and he just won't—won't do...." She trailed off, beginning to tear up.