“Why won’t you talk to me?” he said.
Noah in her doorway. Sexy beyond her wildest dreams. Blue shirt, tool belt, the works. What was she supposed to do now? Throw him out like she did Frederick? Fat chance.
“What is there to say, Noah? You conspired with my fiancé to trick and humiliate me.”
“I never meant to humiliate you and neither did Fred, although I’m not here to defend him. I’m going to have enough trouble defending myself.” He took a deep breath. “Lucy, he thought you were making a mistake, and after I met you, I knew you were.”
“But you never felt the need to tell me that?” She thumped her own temple. “What? Am I some kind of idiot? You can’t sit me down and tell me the truth. You have to deceive me for my own good?”
“Hey, you weren’t easy to reason with on the subject. Ask anyone.”
“I’m asking you.” The words nearly died in her throat. “What did our night together mean to you? Did it mean anything at all?”
“Of course it did. That’s why I’m here.”
His features were shadowed with emotion, with contrition, but she didn’t believe him. She wasn’t going to let herself believe him. It hurt too much.
“I have your things,” she said. “I want you to take them with you.”
She opened the big drawer of her desk and pulled out the pashmina shawl and the cognac. She thrust the gifts at him, aware that the distress in his face gave her a sense of pleasure that was perverse and horrible. She hated taking any satisfaction from his pain. She just wanted him to go.
“Lucy, don’t do this. At least give me a chance to explain, to apologize. I’m sorry. God, I am.”
Emotion balled up in her throat. “I don’t want the gifts,” she got out. “I don’t want anything from you. In fact, I don’t want anything from anybody. I’m fine, Noah. I’m strong. I can do it on my own.”
He folded his arms and stood back, all powerful shoulders and dark, thoughtful features. “I pity the people you resolve conflicts for,” he said, “if this is how you do it, by telling them to push each other away.”
The gifts ended up on her desk, unclaimed. “I’m damn good at conflict resolution, and don’t you dare suggest otherwise. I know how to separate my life from my clients’ lives. Besides, to be brutally honest, most people aren’t paying me to resolve things. They’re paying me to get them what they want—and right now what I want is to be left alone.”
She sounded bitter. She was. Deeply. It went way back.
“I don’t believe you,” he said.
“About what?”
“Any of it.”
She grabbed a pencil off her desk. “You think I’m not strong and self-sufficient? You’re wrong. I have a thriving business and a beautiful office, filled with high-tech equipment that will do my bidding at the touch of a finger.”
She waved the pencil as if it were a magic wand, touching each piece of office equipment that surrounded her. “A computer, a fax, a shredder, a phone that screens and answers my calls for me, and all at the touch of a button. If I want music to soothe my soul, I just touch a button. If I want to sharpen this pencil, I don’t even have to touch a button. I just insert here.”
She pushed the pencil into the mouth of the electric sharpener and let it grind away, waiting for a reaction that never came. He shook his head, not buying any of it.
“Men aren’t even required to impregnate,” she reminded him. “Women can be inseminated or adopt, which means your gender is all but obsolete.”
“So you don’t need anything?”
“Nothing, not from you.”
She had no idea how he knew there was a breaker box behind her office door. She hadn’t known it was there until he revealed it, pried open the panel, and flipped one of several black switches. The entire floor of her building plunged into darkness. Thank God, it was late and everyone else had gone home.
Seconds later, a flashlight beam hit Lucy between the eyes. “Maybe you’re not so self-sufficient, even here in this fancy office of yours. Maybe you do need some help.”
“Noah, turn the lights back on.”
“You turn them on, Lucy. That’s not a problem for you, is it? You don’t need anybody or anything.”
“Noah, you made your point.”
“Did I? You mean all that technology you rely on won’t run without something as basic and simple as electricity?
“Sleep warm,” he said as he left the room, the flashlight beam proceeding him down the hall.
Lucy searched the darkness with her eyes, wondering how she was going to get out of her office. Did her phones work? Did the elevator? He’d made his point, but what did it matter? He’d just walked out of her life. And she had to let him go. She was much too hurt to do otherwise. But how could he not know that? How could he not see her bruised pride, the heart that ached with every beat?
Chapter Nine
NOAH shouted. He hit the door with his open hand. He butted it with his shoulder. And then he got serious. Curling his hand into a fist, he pounded hard enough to raise the dead, and he didn’t let up until he saw lights click on inside the house.
Held by a security chain, the door creaked open a notch. “What are you doing here?”
“Open the door,” Noah said. “I’m bunking with you tonight.”
“The hell you—”
“Open the door, or I’ll break it down.”
The chain rattled and popped. The big door swung open, and Frederick stood there in his bathrobe, groggy and rumpled with sleep. “Why the hell should I let you stay here?”
“Because I’m not going back to a hotel tonight, and tomorrow you and I are going to resolve this mess with Lucy.”
“How?”
“The only way it can get resolved. You’ll find out tomorrow.”
“I don’t like surprises, Hightower.”
“Then it shouldn’t be any surprise that you won’t like this one, either. Are you inviting me in?”
Fred slammed the door in Noah’s face. Not ten seconds later he opened it again, and stepped back. “Get in here,” he snarled, “before the neighbors call the cops.”
LUCY brushed a piece of lint from the lapel of her favorite outfit, a double-breasted sharkskin pantsuit. She’d drawn her hair up into a sophisticated knot on top of her head and left a feathery bit of dark bangs to soften the look. The smoky gray cast of her eyes was due to lack of sleep more than makeup. It made her look a bit fragile and lost, but what could she do? It was all she had to work with.
It was all about morale today. All about fighting back. She was in one of the company conference rooms, waiting for Valerie to deliver her new clients. They should be there any minute. Otherwise Lucy would have been up and moving around, working off the jitters. She wasn’t as nervous about the clients as about something much more intangible. Call it the uncertainties of life. Up until a few days ago, her future had been planned, the path clear. She’d known where she was going and with whom, and that had brought her great comfort. Now all she knew for certain was where she wasn’t going.
She shook the bangs off her face, force of habit.
Noah had brought about the uncertainty. He was the land mine in her path. Nothing in her life made sense anymore, no matter how determined she was to regain her sense of direction. The same work that had once consumed her didn’t. She wasn’t feeling the deep sense of accomplishment and satisfaction.
“Come in!” she said, grateful to hear a knock on the door.
The door opened, and Valerie entered, looking concerned. “Your clients have been delayed, but there’s someone else here to see you.”
Lucy rose as the two visitors followed Valerie through the door.
She stepped back, bumping into her chair. It was Frederick and Noah, partners in crime. What were they doing here? No, she didn’t want to know.
She was already shaking her head. “I’m sorry, I have an appointment. Valerie, would you show these gentlemen out?”
Noah came forward, holding Valerie off with a look. “Your assistant told us that your clients are going to be late. You have at least fifteen minutes to spare. Give us that much time, please. You owe it to yourself, if no one else.”
Lucy was reluctant to give them fifteen seconds, but she was deeply curious.
She nodded to Valerie. “You can go, but buzz me when their fifteen minutes is up, please.”
As Valerie left, Lucy invited the men to sit. “All right, what’s this about?” she said, taking a seat herself. “I’ll allow one topic. That’s all we’ll have time for in fifteen minutes. Who goes first?”
It was absolutely her intention to be abrupt and to take charge.
Noah spoke. “This was my idea. I’ll go first. The topic is you, Lucy.”
She sighed, but not in relief. “I thought as much. Proceed.”
Noah walked to the table but did not sit, which put Lucy at a disadvantage unless she stood too. She decided against it. With his height, she would still be forced to look up at him. As it was she couldn’t believe how easily he penetrated her defenses and held her gaze. Within seconds all she could see was hot blue eyes.
“Why are you here?” she asked.
“You’re the conflict resolution expert,” he said, “resolve this. Frederick and I are both in love with you.”
“In love?” Lucy was stunned. “With me?”
“With you,” Noah said softly. “I wish there’d been a better way to tell you, but this could be my only chance.”
She didn’t know how to respond. She was flustered, dammit.
Frederick didn’t seem too happy at the revelation, either. He rushed forward. “I love you, too, for Christ’s sake. That’s why I’m here. You’ve known this guy for a week. You’ve known me for years. It’s no contest. You can’t choose him. I meet everything on your list, right? The top ten traits?”
She didn’t even dignify him with an answer. She’d told him about the list the same day she’d found it, thinking it would reassure him that she was sincere in her feelings. A mistake, clearly.
“And you?” She turned to Noah. “Why should I choose you?”
“I don’t meet anything on your list except the goose bumps. But I do love you, and I’ve never lied to you.”
Her face flushed, but not with pleasure. Why was her heart drumming so ridiculously hard? It sounded like thunder. “Except perhaps lies of omission?”
He didn’t argue, but she took little satisfaction in his silence. Maybe she wanted him to argue. Why hadn’t he fought for her? Why wasn’t he fighting now?
The heavy thud in her chest had become painful. She forced the emotion from her voice as she spoke. “The two most important traits on my list were honesty and trustworthiness. Neither of you have shown me those qualities. I’m sure you’re both good men at heart, but you did conspire to deceive me, and I can’t forgive that.”
Noah’s palm cracked against the table. “Just like you can’t forgive your father? This is bullshit, Lucy, and you know it. The only thing I’m guilty of is harboring a romantic fantasy about you.”
Her voice was gone, dry as dust. “What fantasy?”
“Forget it,” Noah said. “That was stupid of me.”
“No, please, I want to hear it.”
He took a breath and glanced from the table to her face, as if trying to decide just how much of himself he should expose in this hostile setting.
At last he spoke. “You were in a trance,” he said, speaking to Lucy, “like the princess in the fairy tale who couldn’t wake up. Your eyes were wide open, and you were as busy as could be, making plans and getting fitted for your wedding dress. But you were dreaming the wrong dream, Lucy . . . and I wanted to be the guy who kissed you awake.”
“Sleeping Beauty?” she got out.
He nodded, clearly a little embarrassed.
Frederick made gagging noises, and Lucy shot him a glare. “Shut up, Frederick. Shut up right now.”
She turned to Noah, desperately glad that he couldn’t see her arms. The fine hairs must be standing on end. “That was a very sweet thing to say,” she told him, “but I believe it was me who kissed you awake, if you’ll remember.”
“Lucy, you can’t be buying this fairy-tale crap,” Frederick said. “That’s not your thing at all. You’d be crazy not to choose me.”
Frederick started around the table, and she sprang from her chair to stop him. “Stay where you are, Frederick! I’m not choosing either one of you. That’s my decision, and it’s final, so if you’ll both leave, this conflict will be resolved, at least for me. The session is over.”
Both men fell silent, and try as she might, Lucy couldn’t bring herself to look at either one of them. It would have killed her to see the expression on Noah’s face at that moment. They had to leave. They had to.
A buzz broke the silence. It was Valerie’s signal.
“Excuse me,” Lucy mumbled as she hurried around the table and out of the room.
Three weeks later
Lucy didn’t pick Caspian Way as her route home because the scenery was better or the traffic lighter. In fact, the traffic was terrible. She did it for the billboard. Every night she tried to anticipate what the billboard might say next. And so did the rest of Santa Barbara. Tonight Cassandra, the radio psychic, was using it as her show’s opening.
“Should Lucy forgive Noah?” Cassandra asked her listeners. “That’s the question on everyone’s lips these days. And tonight I’ll give you Cassandra’s answer. It might surprise you. Meanwhile, if you haven’t seen the electronic billboard on Caspian Way and Dover, where a man named Noah is pouring his heart out to a woman named Lucy, take a drive by. Noah’s doing a top ten list, and tonight is number one.”
Lucy was about a block from the billboard as Cassandra went to a commercial break. Caspian Way had become so crowded since the board appeared that it had taken Lucy a half hour to get here from her office. Normally it was a ten-minute trip, but she would have driven any amount of time today. In fact, she hadn’t missed any of the top ten except the first one. Her mother had spotted it and told her to drive by.
Lucy would never forget it. The sun had just gone down, obscuring the black background in darkness, and the bright letters seemed to be hanging in the night sky.
THE TOP TEN REASONS LUCY SHOULD
FORGIVE NOAH
(10) He’s got a great job and a great car. If he had
Lucy, he’d have a great smile, too.
She nearly hit the brakes and caused a lovely pileup. Great smile, great job, great car? Those were the first items on her top ten list. Lucy looked around, sure the other drivers who’d seen it would be gawking at her, but no one had any idea that the Lucy of the billboard was in the lane next to them.
Every night after that there’d been another one. Number nine had been interesting: He’s not a snappy dresser, and he doesn’t have an urbane sense of humor, but he’ll let you play with his tools.
Lucy had blushed purple reading that one. She’d already done some playing, and wasn’t sure she appreciated the reminder. She had his card and had considered leaving him a voice mail, telling him to stop, but she decided that was probably exactly what he wanted. Still, she continued going home via Caspian Way. Every night.
Number five was her favorite: He’d like nothing better than to spend the rest of his life being sweet and attentive, if Lucy would let him. And number four had made her smile. Nice hands? Noah would love to use his, to give Lucy a guided tour of the other body parts on her list.
Lucy craned this way and that, trying to get a look around the van in front of her. The billboard should be coming into sight any second, and she couldn’t stand the suspense. She almost wished Cassandra had revealed what it was. And suddenly, there it was, hanging in the sky:
Lucy, meet me up on the roof, and I’ll tell you
Number One in person. Love, Noah
Lucy made a U-turn at the next intersection.
AS she stepped off
the elevator, Lucy saw immediately that the dining area was dark, but the lounge glowed with light. She didn’t take the time to steady herself or think through what she was going to say. She turned in the direction of the light, having no idea what to expect.
He was facing the doorway as she came through it. Facing her, his arms at his sides, his shoulders squared. She had the feeling he was no more prepared for this meeting than she was, even with the elaborate lengths he’d gone to in the last ten days. He looked vulnerable, despite his height and obvious strength.
“I didn’t think you’d come,” he said.
“You do realize you’re tying up traffic on Caspian Way.”
“All I realize is that you’re here.”
She was struck by the softness of his voice, by the harsh emotion. Honestly it felt as if her heart were going to break. Just seeing him did that to her. She didn’t know how to be angry at him anymore. Or why she should be. He might not be any of the things on her list, but he was everything she’d ever wanted in her heart. She’d been terrified to love him because he had aspects of her father’s wildness, but he wasn’t her father. He wasn’t, and she was just beginning to understand that.
She drank in the sight of his bronzed features and wavy dark hair. Sheened by candlelight, he was as striking as on the day he’d tried to snatch her prized briefcase. Although there was something different about him tonight, she realized. He wore the familiar denim shirt and blue jeans, but one thing was missing.
“No tool belt?” she said. “You must feel naked.”
He patted his hip, where the belt would normally have hung. “I gave it to charity, the Big Brothers organization.”
“Why would you do that?”
“We had a bet, and I lost.”
“A bet?” She remembered instantly, and repeated what he’d said: ‘I’d bet this belt on us, Lucy. If we don’t have something—call it chemistry or whatever you want to call it—I’ll donate it to a good cause.’ ”
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