Corner-Office Courtship

by Victoria Pade

  “This is already an improvement,” he observed.

  “It’s only primed but just losing that gaudy wallpaper was a big step.”

  “Did you have any problems with it?”

  “Only in a few spots. Nothing big. And I got everything off without doing any damage, so I think we’re good to go from here.”

  “I told my grandmother about what you did with the frame on that mirror I saw in your shop and it reminded her that she has her grandmother’s hope chest.”

  “That would be your great-great-grandmother’s hope chest. How old is that?”

  “GiGi—that’s what we call my grandma—is seventy-five. If we stick with round numbers, let’s say GiGi’s mother would have been twenty years older than her, add another twenty years to get GiGi’s grandmother’s age, so the hope chest has to be...” He laughed. “Really old.”

  Nati laughed, too, at his failure to come up with a precise number.

  “I’d never seen it before,” he went on, “but GiGi made me root around in the attic until I found it this morning. It’s kind of like a wooden steamer trunk. The overall finish has survived pretty well, but the design painted on the front, around the latch, and on the very top has faded nearly into oblivion. GiGi wanted me to ask you if you could redo it the way you redid the mirror frame.”

  “I’d have to check it out to know.”

  “It’s a leafy vine motif with some hearts and flowers—”

  “That’s the kind of thing I do. But I can’t say if the original design is restorable until I see it.”

  “There are some spots that are gone altogether,” he warned. “Especially around the latch—”

  “Sure, where hands brushed against it over and over again. But if there’s enough of the pattern left in other places I can usually figure out what’s missing and fill it in.”

  “You just have to see it first to know,” he repeated. “What about now? If you don’t have anywhere to be, we could go over there and take a look...”

  “Oh. Now? To your grandmother’s house?”

  “It doesn’t have to be now. We can set it up for later. I just thought that since we’re both free, and you’re already on this side of town, and GiGi’s place is just over on Gaylord—”

  Saturday night and he was as free as she was? He didn’t have a party or an event or a date with some drop-dead-gorgeous socialite? That was hard to believe.

  “Sure, I can do that,” she answered after a pause.

  “We can take my car or you can follow me over and go home from there—your choice,” he offered.

  The thought of riding in a car with him seemed a little awkward and at the same time too appealing, so she said, “I’ll just follow you in my car.”

  “Okay. Then if you’re all finished here, why don’t we go? We might be just in time for you to meet GiGi before she leaves for her dinner plans.”

  GiGi. Every time he said it there was affection in his tone. Georgianna Milner Camden. Nati’s grandfather’s old love.

  Nati’s curiosity suddenly ran high.

  “Okay,” she agreed, worrying all over again that this whole thing might smack of disloyalty in some way. But she couldn’t stop herself now.

  Cade ushered her out the front door and back to her car. It was parked beside his in the driveway.

  “Just follow me,” he suggested.

  “Okay,” Nati agreed, hoping her old clunker could keep up with his sleek black sports car.

  As they drove the short distance, Nati saw him repeatedly glance into his rearview mirror to make sure she was there. But he drove conservatively enough for her not to have any problem following him.

  After a few minutes, Cade turned onto a driveway that ran through the gap in a ruddy redbrick wall bordering an enormous estate.

  She followed him up the stone-paved drive and around the fountain that formed the centerpiece of the front grounds. They came to a stop near a five-car garage. It was attached to an expansive house that would have made her former in-laws drool with envy because it dwarfed theirs.

  The Tudor mansion curved out from the garage in a two-story semicircle of brick, stucco, wood trim and arched windows. The classically steep roof was dotted with dormers, two sculpted brick chimneys and gables under which thick green ivy grew.

  Nati was embarrassed by the sound her car made when she turned off the engine but she pretended not to be when she got out.

  “This is beautiful,” she said with unveiled awe as Cade led the way up the three steps onto the wide curved landing that stretched out from the house’s entrance.

  Cade didn’t knock on the huge single door with its stained and leaded glass in the upper half. He merely opened it, held it and motioned for Nati to go in ahead of him.

  She did, stepping as gingerly as if she were walking on eggshells, into an enormous foyer with a vaulted ceiling and a crystal chandelier centered over a round entry table large enough for a family of six to eat around had it been a dining table.

  Cade followed her in, closed the door and shouted, “GiGi? Are you still here?”

  “In the den,” a voice from somewhere farther into the house shouted back.

  Having been married to the heir to an airline fortune, Nati had had the occasion to see some pretty impressive places. But nothing had compared to what she saw as she followed Cade to the left of the foyer, through double doors and into an oak-paneled den where two women were standing at a curio, one of them dusting antique watches, and then handing them to the other woman who carefully placed them on display.

  Nati judged the woman replenishing the display to be about sixty years old—too young to be Cade’s grandmother. She was short, plump, with rosy round cheeks. She was dressed casually in knit slacks and a sweatshirt, her ash-blond hair cut close to her head all over in a low-maintenance cap style.

  The other woman was older—more the age of Nati’s seventy-five-year-old grandfather and more likely to be the matriarch of the Camden clan. Like the sweatshirted woman, she was also not much more than five feet tall and had a somewhat fluffy figure that said she enjoyed her food and robust good health, too. She was the more attractive of the two women, with a lined face that still bore the signs of glowing beauty. Her hair was salt-and-pepper colored, and she wore it short and curly. And despite the fact that she was dressed in a stylish black evening suit with a lacy white blouse and several strands of pearls, she was doing the dusting.

  “You’re a little overdressed for that, don’t you think, GiGi?” Cade teased when he strolled up to her and kissed her cheek. Then, turning to kiss the cheek of the other woman, he said, “Hi, Margaret. What are you doing still cleaning on a Saturday night? And where’s Louie?”

  “We cleaned this room from top to bottom today,” GiGi said, before the other woman could answer. “I have some time while I wait for my ride to dinner tonight, so we’re doing this one last thing so we can be done with it. Then Margaret and Louie are going bowling. Without me.”

  “Tonight’s the end of the tournament,” Margaret said. “Keep your fingers crossed that we take home the trophy.”

  “But they’re at a disadvantage if I’m not there,” GiGi said.

  “She’s right but I can’t talk her out of ditching the dinner.”

  Nati was at a loss as she looked on. She understood that the dressed-up woman was Georgianna Camden. But who was the other woman? A close enough relative to warrant a hello kiss from Cade, it seemed.

  But why were they cleaning? After six years with the Pirfoys, Nati knew that absolutely no one but the staff would have performed a cleaning chore. Certainly her mother-in-law would never have dirtied her hands with a dust cloth, let alone participated in a bowling tournament. And she wouldn’t have accepted shouted greetings in her house.

  Finally Cade turned to Nati and did
the introductions. “GiGi, this is Nati Morrison. Nati, my grandmother, Georgianna Camden.”

  GiGi handed the last of the watches to Margaret and turned her dark blue eyes to Nati.

  “Call me GiGi—everyone does. It makes it simpler,” she announced.

  “And this,” Cade added with a nod toward the other woman, “is Margaret Haliburton—she and her husband Louie have been taking care of the house and the rest of us forever. We couldn’t make it without them.”

  “It’s nice to meet you both,” Nati said.

  There was the sound of a car horn honking from out front and the woman in the sweatshirt threw up her hands. “That’s Louie—I better go. See you all later,” she said. Nati had never seen a housekeeper be so casual with her employers.

  Once goodbyes had been said, Georgianna Camden turned to study Nati. “Nati Morrison. And your grandfather is Jonah Morrison, from Northbridge, Montana, Cade tells me.”

  “He is.”

  The older woman’s eyebrows arched in interest. “So he’s still alive and kicking?”

  “He is that, too.”

  “And he is well, I hope?”

  “He’s doing okay. Enjoying his retirement. He’s actually in Las Vegas with some friends right now.”

  “Good for him!” GiGi laughed and leaned toward Nati to confide, “I’m not sure if you know this or not, but he and I were quite an item when we were young. I was just a girl—barely sixteen when we first got together—but I thought that man was going to marry me. He had the most beautiful thick auburn hair—”

  “He still has beautiful thick hair but now it’s snow white,” Nati said.

  “And when he smiled...” Georgianna Camden shook her head and smiled at her recollection. “His eyes just lit up like a delighted little boy. He was so much fun and he was such a nice person—”

  “He still is,” Nati assured her as her curiosity was stirred.

  Her grandfather had always maintained the possibility that Georgianna had had no idea what the Camdens did in driving his family out of town. After hearing her great-grandparents’ opinions on the subject, Nati had thought that giving Georgianna the benefit of the doubt was merely big of Jonah. But now, meeting the woman, hearing the things she had to say about Jonah, Nati had to wonder if her grandfather might be right, if maybe the woman hadn’t known what went on.

  The doorbell rang just then, and GiGi shook her head as if she wasn’t thrilled about it. “That must be my ride. As far as I’m concerned these charities shouldn’t be spending money on a car and driver to get me to their functions. They should be putting the money to better use. If it weren’t a cause I care about I’d tell them to blow it out their ear and I’d go bowling with Margaret and Louie.”

  “But this way you get to arrive like the Queen of England,” Cade teased her.

  His grandmother rolled her eyes, then said, “There’s shepherd’s pie in the fridge. Help yourselves.” To Nati she added, “I’m so happy to meet you. I hope you can do something with my old trunk. I’d like to put it at the foot of my bed. Cade has bragged and bragged about what he’s seen of your work. And tell Jonah hello for me when you see him.”

  Nati nodded without committing to that and said, “It was nice to meet you, Mrs.—”

  “GiGi—I hate the whole misses stuff,” she insisted before she said good-night and left. Nati stared after her, still stunned by the difference between what she’d just seen of Georgianna Camden and her former in-laws.

  “And now you’ve met my grandmother,” Cade said, then with a loving laugh, “People will be hearing about that car and driver all night.”

  “She has a point,” Nati said, realizing that she’d liked the elderly woman. Well enough that she found herself wanting to give her the same benefit of the doubt that her grandfather gave.

  “So, what do you say? A trip to the attic?” Cade suggested then.

  Nati switched gears, reminding herself that despite GiGi’s warm treatment, she was there only for work.

  “A trip to the attic—are you sure we don’t need a car and driver for that?” Nati joked as she glanced around the den, which alone was the size of her entire apartment in her grandfather’s basement.

  “There is an elevator if you don’t think you can make it,” he goaded.

  “I’ll give it my best shot but I can’t promise.”

  Cade didn’t provide her with a formal tour of the place as he led her up the wide, curving staircase with its carved-oak posts and banister. But as they ascended from the entrance hall to the second floor, Nati caught a glimpse of a formal living room and a formal dining room on the ground level.

  Formal, but not stuffy, she thought, surprised by the warm, homey look of the house that was as palatial inside as it was out.

  On the second level she counted seven bedrooms. Then Cade took her around an alcove to a set of hidden stairs that were not as fancy as the others, and they climbed to the attic where Cade flipped on the lights.

  The steep angle of the roof caused the walls of the attic to slant drastically. But it was still such a large, open space that there was plenty of room for even Cade to stand tall and straight as they stepped into the space, which was cluttered with old furniture and boxes. It was an antique dealer’s dream.

  “The hope chest is over here.” Cade led Nati the short distance to a stately old steamer trunk with fading decorations.

  Nati took a close look at it, then said, “You’re right, the chest itself is in remarkably good shape, and there is enough of the design left for me to reproduce it. So this is do-able.”

  “Then you’ll take on this job, too?”

  Nati was not in a position to turn down any job. “Sure.”

  “GiGi will be happy to hear that.”

  “I’ll need to work on it in my shop, though—better lighting so that I can mix and match the colors—”

  “I’ll get it to you.”

  Nati laughed. “Strapped to the top of your sports car? I think this might tip it over.”

  He smiled at her. “Louie has a truck. He’ll help get this out of here and I’ll bring it to you.”

  “I have access to a truck, too. If you want, I can—”

  “No, I’ll get it to you,” he said, impressing her with his readiness to make things as easy as possible for her.

  “Okay, if you say so,” she agreed.

  “Looks like we have another deal, then. And now that that’s settled—I’m starved. What do you say to taking GiGi up on her offer of that shepherd’s pie? She’s a fantastic cook.”

  His grandmother dusted and cooked?

  That further amazed Nati.

  Then there was the allure of extending her time with Cade.

  The idea had so much appeal that it was a little alarming. Her mind instantly jumped ahead to sitting alone with him, sharing a meal, talking, laughing, spending the next hour or more with a man she had an inordinate urge to get to know. It would almost seem like having a date with him.

  Which she could not do!

  The rich ARE different! she silently shrieked at herself.

  No matter how Cade Camden or his grandmother seemed on the surface, no matter how much nicer and warmer they appeared to be than the Pirfoys, underneath it all, Nati had no doubt that the Camdens and the Pirfoys were in the same camp. To them, she was nothing more than the help.

  “Thanks, but I should just get going,” she forced herself to say.

  “Come on... You said you didn’t have any plans. And you have to eat...” he cajoled with a smile that could have won him any dinner partner in the world.

  Except Nati.

  She held her ground by thinking about how much her marriage, her divorce, had cost her.

  “No plans, no,” she confirmed, “but I do have some work to do a
nd some phone calls to return and my own dinner slow-cooking at home for me.”

  She didn’t. But it sounded possible.

  Cade actually looked disappointed—something else Nati found difficult to believe tonight. But he conceded anyway.

  “Let’s go down the back stairs to the kitchen at least then, so I can swipe some of the shepherd’s pie to take home with me.”

  “Okay,” she agreed.

  When they reached the second floor, Cade made a sharp turn away from the alcove that blocked the staircase from view and they went down another concealed flight of steps that dropped them into a restaurant-sized kitchen.

  Despite its size, the kitchen was warm and homey and inviting with its navy-blue-and-white checkered-tile floor, its tarnished brass lighting and plumbing fixtures, and the pristine white cupboards. It reminded Nati of an almost as elaborate home in Cape Cod that she’d once visited with her ex-husband.

  “This is a chef’s dream,” she muttered as she took in the commercial-sized refrigerator, the six-burner gas stove with its built-in grill, the double ovens, the triad of sinks and the expansive island in the center of the room that provided ample workspace.

  “Ten little chefs,” Cade said. “That’s what GiGi called us.”

  Nati was confused and it must have shown. As Cade opened one side of the gargantuan double-doored refrigerator and took out a container, he explained.

  “When I was nine I came to live here with my two brothers, my sister, January, and my six cousins.”

  Nati had heard more than a fair share of ranting against H.J. and his son Hank Camden from her great-grandparents before their deaths. She’d read the occasional newspaper or magazine article about one or all of the Camdens, but she hadn’t kept track of how many of them there were or who they were individually. And when it came to any kind of details or family history, she knew nothing at all.

  “Why did you all come to live here?” she asked as he found a smaller container and a spoon, and returned to the island to dish out some of the shepherd’s pie.

  His chiseled features sobered into sadness even as he said matter-of-factly, “My parents, my aunt and uncle and my grandfather were all killed in a plane crash that year.”