Stolen Kisses

by Sally Falcon

  “I’m trying, I’m trying,” he protested, raising his hands in the air in a show of total surrender. “She’s picking on me again.”

  “Probably no more than you deserve after that kiss I saw you plant on Jessie DeLord earlier,” Gary returned with an affable grin. “She’s too nice for the likes of you.”

  “It’s a conspiracy. All I did was kiss the woman because her escort was behaving like a horse’s ass,” he prevaricated. He didn’t think mentioning that she had the most kissable mouth he’d ever seen would be very politic at the moment.

  “I told Abby that she shouldn’t inflict ol’ Connor on anyone she liked, but she just wouldn’t listen,” her husband stated, only to be rewarded with a sharp elbow in the ribs.

  “He came up to you at the Rep while we were talking during intermission.” She gave her husband an aggrieved look as she countered his accusation. “You didn’t bother to tell me until later that he was the biggest bore in Arkansas. Jessie is one of the nicest women I know, so I wouldn’t intentionally pair her up with a dud. Which is why I was warning off the kissing bandit here.”

  “I think I liked being a stud better,” Trevor announced, wondering how he was going to get more information out of his overprotective hostess. Why did Jessie have to be a close friend of hers?

  “Well, she wouldn’t have time for you anyway. She’s much too busy getting her design firm established,” Abby announced as if that settled the matter once and for all.

  Trevor answered her triumphant smile with one of his own. If the conversation kept going at this pace, he’d have Jessie’s phone number in a matter of minutes. “Maybe I should give her a call, professionally, since I’m almost through with the renovations on my house.”

  “Not a chance. Aesthetics, Ltd. doesn’t do domestic interior designs. They work in the corporate sector,” he was readily informed.

  With a glance at Gary’s smirk, Trevor decided to quit while he was ahead. The other man knew exactly what he was doing, and Abby would undoubtedly catch on in a minute. Trevor was satisfied, however, with what he’d managed to find out so far. All he had needed was Jessie’s last name, but the name of her business would help if she wasn’t listed in the phone book.

  “Yoo-hoo, Trevor!”

  The sound of Button Mainwairing’s shrill voice jerked him to his feet immediately. He would have to worry about his next move with the lovely Jessie later; right now he had to make a hasty escape. He made a quick exit through the Bushes’ kitchen door before the female piranha could sink her teeth into him again.

  “Okay, I want all the gory details, from the moment he picked you up to the minute he said good-night.”

  Jessie gave an exasperated sigh as she dropped her purse and portfolio on her glass and chrome desk. She’d expected Gina Caryle to dog her footsteps the moment she entered the office. She also knew Gina wasn’t kidding; her friend did want to know every detail. It was a miracle that Gina had resisted calling last night. She probably had hoped there was something going on that she might have disturbed.

  “He picked me up at seven, and we went to the party,” Jessie recited while unbuttoning her cherry-red battle jacket and shrugging out of it. She raised her voice slightly as she crossed the room to where the teapot sat on the black enamel credenza that complemented their ultra-modem office façade. “There were probably forty-five people in various magic-theme costumes, some more interesting than others. We stayed about two and half hours, then he took me home. We said good-night in the car, and I was in bed by eleven.”

  “Jess-i-ca!” Gina wailed before dropping into the bright yellow acrylic chair by the side of Jessica’s desk, crossing her long legs at the knee to show she was settling in for an inquisition that would put Torquemada to shame. “What am I going to do with you? This is the third candidate you’ve brushed off. How are you ever going to find Mr. Right at this rate?”

  Jessie finished pouring her tea and added a packet of sweetener before she bothered to answer. What would Gina’s reaction be if she told her about Trevor the rabbit? Studying her friend through half-closed eyes, she shuddered. They’d been friends for too many years, through college and their apprenticeships, for her not to know exactly what the other woman would think—Trevor was wonderful. If Jessie had anything to say about it, Gina would never know about her amorous encounter at the Bushes’ party.

  “Wait a minute,” Jessie answered thoughtfully while walking across the room to take a seat behind her desk. “Aren’t you the one who said I was being too coldblooded about trying to find a husband? I shouldn’t make up a list of positive traits and look for a man who fits nine out of ten qualifications?”

  “Of course I did. This shopping for a man like an item off the shelf is ridiculous,” the brunette acknowledged, flipping her long curly hair over her shoulder and settling her elbows on the desk. Her dark brown eyes never left her partner’s face, the direct look almost making Jessie feel guilty about keeping Trevor a secret—almost. “You keep reading all those silly books on how to date, how to meet a man, how to captivate your date, how to be the perfect mate—” Gina broke off, seeming to lose count on her fingers, and threw her hands up in exasperation. “Why not just see if there’s an instant-husband-and-father kit on the market? Just add a little water, zap him in the microwave for a minute or so, then presto!”

  “Gina, we’ve been over this already,” Jessie said patiently, sipping her tea. “I’m thirty-eight years old, and I want to have a family.” Until recently she hadn’t even been aware that her biological time clock was ticking, when suddenly it seemed ready to explode. She wanted a baby. “I’m not modern enough to go to a clinic and order an instant father for my child. I want it all. Isn’t that modern women’s battle cry?”

  “At least you haven’t totally lost your reason. Artificial insemination is sort of like going to a salad bar to select the father’s genes,” Gina admitted reluctantly, but she wasn’t about to give up her original purpose. “You can’t tell me you’ve come up with any likely candidates with your handy little list either. I didn’t meet number three, but one and two both had the personalities of igneous rocks. You’re letting your childhood memories skew your judgment.”

  “That’s ridiculous. You and I are simply attracted to different types,” Jessie returned hastily. She didn’t want to admit that Trevor’s easy charm had reminded her of her father’s gregarious personality. But a beguiling smile and easy manner just didn’t go along with commitment and responsibility. Her child was going to have a quiet, dependable man for a father and a stable home life. “Just because our clients think we look like sisters and we tend to think alike on most matters, it doesn’t mean we are going to agree on the right husband. I like your Jeff, but I don’t want to marry him.”

  “You have to admit that Jeff is charming and fun as well as stable and dependable, not to mention supportive,” Gina shot back smugly in defense, of her husband of four years. She always managed to point out that flaw in Jessie’s argument. Jeff Caryle could probably be used as an example of the ideal husband by anyone’s measure. He was the exception, not the rule, as far as Jessie was concerned.

  “Yes, I do. You found, the one-in-a-hundred man who can be frivolous without being a bum,” she admitted with a sigh, wishing that the lop-eared image of Trevor’s smiling face hadn’t instantly appeared in her mind. Hadn’t he haunted her dreams enough?

  “So you still haven’t told me if candidate number three has any potential,” her friend challenged.

  Jessie suppressed the urge to ask “Who?” Suddenly she couldn’t remember anything about the man who had taken her to the Bushes’ party, including his name. Although every moment spent with Trevor seemed to be engraved in her memory, she couldn’t muster a single image of her date. All she could recall was having a tremendous headache by the end of the evening.

  “That bad, was he? Can you even remember his name?” Gina’s teasing smile quickly disappeared, making it apparent that Jessie wasn’t masking h
er thoughts. “You can’t remember his name, and you thought he was good husband potential. Oh, Jessie, we really need to have a serious talk about this list of yours.”

  The ringing of the telephone saved Jessie from having to respond immediately. She grabbed the receiver in relief. “Aesthetics, Ltd., Jessica DeLord speaking,” she answered over Gina’s agonized groan of defeat. “Mr. Planchet has been called out of town? I see. Let me check our schedule for a new date for the presentation.” Gina thrust the appointment book into her hand a second later. “How is a week from Monday? Yes, I understand that is a tentative appointment and you’ll confirm by the end of the week. Thank you.”

  “So we don’t go up against the big guns for another week. It’s almost a relief,” Gina murmured as Jessie replaced the receiver. “This way we have more time to practice the presentation.”

  “It isn’t like you to be nervous. You’re supposed to be the partner with nerves of steel, remember?” Jessie didn’t want to acknowledge the queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Another week before facing T.L. Planchet and his board wasn’t going to help her sleep. Sleepless nights tended to make her think of things she’d like to forget, like being kissed by a very sexy rabbit. The rabbit probably wasn’t losing any sleep over her.

  “It’s having to make the presentation to his family as well as the board of directors. The board was in on the initial bid,” Gina explained, a frown marking her patrician features, “but the family could have us redesigning the whole scheme for the new office complex. What if the rest of the family is as eccentric as Planchet himself?”

  “If we have to redesign, we’ll redesign. Mr. Planchet said it was only a formality,” Jessie returned in her usual role as placater. T.L. Planchet was renowned for his colorful, larger-than-life personality, though he had seemed to be the personification of a corporate leader during their meetings. “We’ve already met his son, and he approved of what we’ve planned.”

  “I suppose if we can make a stuffed shirt like Sanders Planchet happy, the rest of the family shouldn’t be too tough,” her partner grudgingly agreed. An evil smile spread across her lips. “Maybe ol’ T.L. has another stodgy son who could be a responsible and dependable daddy candidate.”

  “Cute, Gina, really cute,” Jessie murmured, wondering how long it would take for her to forget about Trevor.

  Chapter Two

  “It’s now T-minus-five and counting, ladies and gentlemen, before the meteoric launch of the fantastic design firm of Aesthetics, Ltd. to stellar heights.” Gina’s resonant intonation echoed around the rectangular boardroom ten days later. She was occupied with setting up the easel on one side of the room, directly in front of a floor-to-ceiling wall hanging of natural fibers that complemented the tans and browns of the monochromatic decor. The joint owners of Aesthetics, Ltd. had arrived at Planchet Enterprises a good twenty minutes ahead of schedule to prepare for their presentation. “We’re bringing you this auspicious meeting from gavel to gavel so you won’t miss a single thrill-packed minute of this landmark occasion.”

  “Will you stop that? You’re confusing me as well as your scenarios, and that’s the worst Walter Cronkite impression I’ve ever heard,” Jessie chided as she smoothed down the straight skirt of her jade suit, though she appreciated her friend’s attempt to distract her from the volcano smoldering in her stomach. Sorting through the drawings, designs, and fabric samples that represented the Planchet project, she acknowledged that this was a landmark day after so many years of dreaming. The Planchet account would be the most prestigious project they had handled thus far.

  “Sorry, it was supposed to be Wolf Blitzer,” her partner explained without appearing chastened. “Jeff was snuggled up to the TV again this weekend. This is a man who thinks C-SPAN is a mini-series without an ending. His major fault is twenty-four-hour news programs, for you husband hunters. So, add ‘no cable news watching’ to your list of requirements; it’s worse than being a sports widow, at times.”

  “I’m concentrating on textures and colors for now, thank you very much.” That was all Jessie managed before a loud bass voice interrupted them.

  “Ladies, darned if you didn’t catch me in my shirt sleeves,” exclaimed T.L. Planchet, his round face creased by a welcoming smile. He gave his gaudy purple-and-red paisley suspenders a deprecating look that was disarming as he crossed the room with his hand outstretched. Neither of the women had expected him to greet them personally, despite the receptionist’s insistence that she announce their arrival.

  “Good morning, Mr. Planchet,” both Jessie and Gina chorused automatically before shaking hands with their client. Jessie relaxed slightly under the twinkling regard of his brown eyes. The jovial man before them bore little resemblance to the implacable corporate photograph that appeared regularly in Arkansas Business and the business section of the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette.

  “I think our anxiety is showing by arriving ahead of schedule,” she found herself admitting. There was something paternal about T.L. Planchet at times, she decided as her partner grimaced over her statement. She simply couldn’t be intimidated by a man whose garish suspenders seemed the proper accessory to his charcoal suit pants and blue shirt.

  “I admire people who worry about punctuality,” he stated heartily. Glancing at his watch, he continued, “I just wish I had taught my own family better. If I had any takers, I’d bet my bottom dollar that two of my children will be late this morning.”

  “Good morning, Father.” Sanders Planchet stepped through the doorway as if on cue. “Ms. DeLord and Ms. Caryle, it is nice to see you again.”

  “Mr. Planchet,” they responded in unison again. Jessie refused to meet Gina’s speculative look. Sanders Planchet did look like the epitome of the respectable businessman in his dark blue suit that had clearly been tailored to his stocky figure.

  Jessie wasn’t, however, going to let her friend’s impudent sense of humor relax her guard. Usually she liked a round of nonsensical chatter before a presentation, but today was simply too important. Though she’d dismissed Gina’s concern about having to redesign the entire project, she really didn’t want to have to rework weeks of preparation.

  “Curtiss called a few minutes ago with his excuses, Father.” Sanders’s grimace and disapproving tone clearly showed his thoughts on the matter. “He claims that he has an emergency to handle at his office. Something about a dog bite.”

  His father nodded before explaining. “Curtiss, my youngest boy, is a veterinarian, ladies. It must be serious, or he would be here. He and Sanders are the two offspring who can tell time. Now, I think we should get on a first-name basis, so we won’t get confused with too many Mr. Planchets. If you don’t mind, Jessica and Gina?”

  “No, sir,” came the dual reply, which had both women smiling self-consciously at continually answering at the same time. Gina nodded her head slightly for Jessie to take the position of spokesperson.

  “That would be fine, T.L.,” she stated clearly, giving him a polite smile as three members of the board were ushered in by his secretary. Two more arrived a minute later as Jessie and Gina conferred one last time.

  “Jessica, we’ll go ahead and begin,” T.L. prompted a few minutes later from where he stood next to his seat at the center of the table. Though he hadn’t bothered to retrieve his suit jacket or roll down his shirt sleeves, he was clearly the man in charge. “As I said earlier, my remaining offspring will undoubtedly be late. Your time is too valuable to waste by waiting on them.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” he announced to the seven men and four women seated on the far side of the table, “Jessica DeLord and Gina Caryle are here to show us the final plans Aesthetics, Ltd. has made for our new offices. They’ve discussed the structural plans with Grisham and Collins, and I think y’all will find the results agreeable. Please hold your comments until the presentation is finished. Jessica, let’s begin.”

  Jessie took a deep breath, trying not to think of the twelve people facing her as a hanging jury.
Flexing her fingers around her chrome-plated pointer she began describing the decor for the new reception area of the four-story structure. Her level of confidence had surged tenfold by the time she finished describing the area, and Gina smoothly removed the first drawing. This was the day Jessie had been looking forward to during those long nights of waitressing while putting herself through college. At thirty, she’d finally earned her diploma and continued to slave away counting the time until she had the experience and financing to open her own firm. She and Gina had arrived at last.

  “Daddy, I’m so sorry we’re late. I was on time, but when I picked up Tr—” The dark-haired woman broke off as she caught sight of Jessie to her right and gave her an apologetic smile. “Excuse me for interrupting, I should have known T.L. wouldn’t wait for us.”

  “I should’ve taken bets, Tory,” her father declared as he waved toward a chair on his right. “Now, where’s your idiot brother?”

  “He’s parking the car,” she answered quickly, not disputing his description. As she took her seat, she smiled at Jessie once more, regret shining from her brown eyes.

  “Not anymore,” stated an all-too-familiar voice from the doorway that made Jessie childishly want to hide behind the easel or, better still, disappear into thin air. This couldn’t be happening to her; it had to be a bad dream conjured up by Gina’s ridiculous comments about T.L.’s sons. Her only rational thought was that now she knew why Tory Planchet looked so familiar; she’d been at the Bushes’ party, dressed in a turquoise jumpsuit.

  “Please excuse our tardiness, but someone who was the designated driver hadn’t bothered to put any gas in her car and expected us to get here on fumes. We wasted precious time changing to my car,” Trevor pronounced, sauntering into the room with easy grace. His winsome smile, directed at those seated at the table, seemed to say he knew they would excuse him as a matter of course. Then he turned his attention toward Jessie. “Ms.—Jessie, my Lady of the Legs.”