by Francis Ray
Flipping back through her telephone message book, she found the number of the Hotel George. In the past she’d had clients who stayed there, and she had worked with several conventions hosted there. Chase Braxton certainly hadn’t given her the number, and judging by the high regard Mabel Johnson had of him as a Texas Ranger, he wasn’t a man who forgot details that were important to him.
After the fourth ring, the message center activated. Emulating the same manner in which Chase had spoken, she said, “Good evening, Mr. Braxton. This is Julia Ferrington. Welcome to D.C. I’m sorry I missed your call. Good night and enjoy your stay in our fabulous city.”
Hanging up, Julia stretched and walked into her bedroom, her retreat. She spent long hours away from home, and when she returned she enjoyed indulging herself with things that delighted the eyes as well as the other senses.
The elegantly romantic soft peach room held a mixture of Louis XVI and Empire furniture. On a glass-topped table were fresh flowers. French chairs flanked the cozy nook. Silk brocade ran the length of her picture windows and pooled on the thick cream carpeted floor. The fine old drawings and art by African-Americans hanging on the soft white walls had taken months to locate but were well worth the effort and expense.
The focal point was a huge four-poster canopy bed draped in peach silk. On the hand-made imported duvet were restored antique throw pillows. If romance was not in her immediate future, she could still enjoy the trappings by having beautiful, sensuous surroundings.
Stepping out of her high-heel Italian pumps, she placed them in a specially designed shoe box, unbuttoned her plum-colored double-breasted jacket, then her knee-length matching skirt. Hanging the clothes on a padded hanger, she felt a twinge of guilt about the call to Chase, then pushed it away. Although she had sounded like an overworked representative of the Visitors Bureau, the call had served its purpose. She had other things to worry about.
Like trying to come up with a unique concept to add Leo’s to her growing lists of clients. If she could acquire the “in” supper club in D.C., it would be quite a coup.
Noah Hardcastle, manager and one of the four owners of Leo’s, demanded only the best for his restaurant. Since his and Julia’s business philosophy was the same, they got along fabulously. Her name and their friendship might get her an appointment, but she had to deliver the goods.
Finished undressing, she slipped on a white terry cloth robe with peach piping and headed for the bathroom, ideas running through her head. As water gushed from the mouth of a gold swan into the oversize marble tub, there wasn’t a doubt in Julia’s mind that when she and Noah met on Thursday she’d have an idea that would meet with his approval.
It was after ten that night when Chase returned from his jog and saw the red message light on the telephone in the sitting room. Although the hotel had an exercise and steam room, he preferred the unrestricted outdoors and fresh air. Pulling his perspiration-dampened gray sweatshirt over his head, he mopped the trickles of moisture gliding down his face and chest. Leaning over, he hit the speaker button and dialed for his messages.
Black eyes narrowed as he listened to Julia Ferrington’s cool, cultured voice. Iceberg was his initial impression. He tossed in snooty and stuck-up by the time she said good-bye. Deleting the message, he went to the wet bar and chugged a glass of mineral water. After turning the TV to the evening news, he headed to the bathroom. A soak in the Jacuzzi had become as much a part of his nightly ritual as his jog, and just as pleasurable.
As the water filled the oversize tub, Chase promised himself again that as soon as he returned to his ranch he was going to install a Jacuzzi in his bathroom. His modest home was large enough to give him room and small enough for him to be able to keep fairly clean by himself.
His extra money went to pay a ranch hand to take care of his growing herd of Herefords and horses. By most Texas ranch standards, a ten-acre spread wasn’t much of a ranch, but to Chase it was a small piece of heaven on earth. He had another fifteen years of a twenty-year mortgage and it would be his.
Stripping off his pants, he climbed into the swirling water, stretched out his long legs, and leaned his head against the rim. Through the wall speaker in the bathroom the reporter’s voice came through loud and clear, but the one Chase heard was Julia’s. Cool, polite, distant.
Closing his eyes, he tried to come up with a face to match Julia’s voice. Within seconds he visualized a thin nose, pinched features, an unsmiling mouth. Rich laughter filled the room. Thank goodness he had missed her call and hadn’t had to talk to her. He certainly wasn’t going to call her again and try to meet her. He’d kept his word to Mabel and now he could enjoy his tea cakes and put Julia Ferrington out of his mind.
Chase had a good day at Howard and planned a better evening. Not even the tailgating and lane-switching of fellow motorists trying to beat the inevitable bumper-to-bumper rush-hour traffic could dampen his mood. He and his students were finally on the same page. They’d gone from being faintly suspicious of his qualifications and vocally wanting to know why the law symposium class wasn’t being taught by a person from the FBI or CIA to respectful and genuinely interested in what he had to say.
Chase stopped for the traffic light. Tires screeched. Horns honked. People yelled out of open windows. The cars on the other side of him went through the yellow caution light. Cars illegally followed on the red. Glancing across the street, he saw Howard University Hospital. At least they wouldn’t have far to go for medical attention.
The light changed and Chase pulled off. This afternoon several students had followed him into the hall after the lecture and then to his car, their mood angry over the accounts he had given them of injustices to minorities. He’d told them to channel their anger into becoming involved in the political arena and the justice system and changing laws. A few promised they would. He believed them.
To celebrate his breakthrough and the distinct possibility that his superiors had been right about the necessity of his teaching the class, he was going to indulge himself with a meal from room service, watch some football on TV, and, if he were lucky, find someone who wanted to check out the hotel’s billiard room.
Chase was smiling in anticipation as he pulled up in front of the hotel. Saying hello to the jovial valet on duty, he tossed him the keys and quickly crossed the sidewalk. He pictured the blood-red, two-inch-thick porterhouse he planned to order, the mound of French fries with catsup piled on top.
“Mr. Braxton.”
Chase stopped on the steps and looked over his shoulder. Henri held his briefcase in his hand. “Sir, you forgot again.” Light amusement trickled through in the valet’s heavily accented French Creole voice.
With a shake of his Stetson-covered head, Chase bounded back down the steps. He never took paperwork home from the Ranger office, so he had problems remembering he had to do so now. Teaching meant notes and lesson plans.
For the first time, Chase didn’t shudder at the words. Smiling, he reached for the briefcase. “Thanks for catching me. This time someone won’t have to be bothered with bringing it to my room.”
“No problem,” assured the valet as he turned to get into the Jeep Cherokee. By the time he’d pulled away from the curb, Chase was walking through the automatic glass doors and whistling softly. Another thing the department had been right about was choosing the “boutique” hotel over a large chain. The staff was small and friendly. He knew everyone by the end of the first week there.
“Mr. Braxton,” called the desk clerk. “Could I see you a moment, please?”
Chase paused, trying to figure out why Simone had called him, then figured the quicker he took care of the matter, the quicker he could get to his steak. He switched direction and went to the desk. “Yes, Simone.”
“You have another package, sir.”
Black brows bunched. “Another one?”
“Yes, sir. I’ll get it for you.”
Chase placed his briefcase on the desk and wondered who might have sent this
one. He was close to his father and brother who lived in Austin, but all three preferred using the telephone to keep in touch. They did enough paperwork on the job to abhor writing letters. Sending a package to him would be out of the question.
The department had shipped all the materials, too much in Chase’s opinion, that they thought he’d need to teach his six-week seminar. There was no woman in his life who might want to make him think he’d be much better off with her in his life permanently. He was genuinely puzzled.
His thoughts came back to the present and his frown deepened as Simone returned with a large brown wicker basket wrapped in clear plastic and tied with a big red, white, and blue bow. There was a white star on the blue, just like the Texas flag. Although the clerk’s slim arms were stretched to capacity, they were unable to encompass the basket.
“You’re sure this is for me?”
White teeth flashed in Simone’s ebony-hued face. “Positive.” Her red nail tapped the envelope. “‘Chase Braxton. Hotel George.’”
His puzzlement growing, Chase opened the envelope. He stared at his name and the neat handwritten note welcoming him to D.C. Below in small, discreet gold print were the words: “Created by Julia A. Ferrington.”
“Why would she send me this?” he mumbled.
“Since I don’t know who ‘she’ is, I can’t very well say, Mr. Braxton,” Simone answered with open amusement. Her black eyes dancing with lingering humor, she glanced around the lobby, then leaned over and whispered, “But if you don’t want it, I’d be delighted to take it off your hands. I’m a chocoholic and Sweet Temptation is renowned for their gourmet chocolate goodies.”
Replacing the card, Chase picked up the basket and briefcase and flashed her a grin. “I’ll be sure and keep that in mind.”
“Please do that,” Simone said, moving away to help another guest.
In his suite, Chase’s gaze immediately zeroed in on the telephone, as if that would give him the answers he wanted. Seeing the red message light on, he quickly crossed the room and retrieved his message.
“Chase, this is Mabel. You sweet man. You must have made quite an impression on Julia. She called this morning to ask if you had any food allergies and if you liked candy. I told her no to the allergies, yes to the candy. If I don’t miss my guess, you should be very happy by now. Enjoy and don’t eat it all at one time.”
Chase stared at the basket he still held in his hands. There were five sections, each filled with a different kind of candy. He recognized three: pralines, chocolate-covered peanuts, and divinity. The question remained, Why would she send him a gift basket? He knew enough to know that it hadn’t been cheap, and although Julia Ferrington came from money, why would she want to spend it on a stranger?
Placing the basket on the coffee table, he removed the heavy card again. Seeing a telephone number on the back, he picked up the phone and dialed.
He needed answers. He prided himself on reading people correctly. In his profession it was almost second nature. It didn’t set well that Julia Ferrington had somehow managed to prove him wrong.
“Sweet Temptation,” answered a cheerful-sounding woman.
“Is this some kind of a candy shop?” Somehow he couldn’t reconcile himself to the cool woman on the phone last night designing gift baskets.
“Sweet Temptation is more than just candy. As the name implies, it’s a fabulous treasure trove of delicious and decadent goodies guaranteed to tempt the untemptable,” she explained.
Her answer told him nothing. “Can I speak with Julia Ferrington, please?”
“I’m sorry, sir, she’s not here.”
“She works there, doesn’t she?”
“Yes, sir. Is there a message?”
Leave it up to a woman to leave a man hanging. “Please have her call Chase Braxton at Hotel George. She has the number.”
Hanging up the phone, he poked at the cellophane. The rich, tempting aroma of chocolate and other candies drifted out. The fat pralines, loaded with big pecan chunks, glistened like spun honey. He could see similar pecan chunks in the divinity. If he didn’t miss his guess, macadamia nuts were in one of the other chocolate candies.
He loved nuts. People liked to joke about policemen eating doughnuts, but he preferred nuts any way he could get them.
What the heck. Ripping open the cellophane, he plucked out a praline and bit. His taste buds exploded in sheer ecstasy. The woman who’d answered the phone hadn’t exaggerated. The sugary candy was as good as any he had ever tasted.
He still didn’t understand why Julia Ferrington had sent the candy, but he intended to find out. Unanswered questions annoyed him.
Speaking with Julia Ferrington wasn’t as easy as he’d imagined. Over the next two days he called Sweet Temptation four times and each time she was out. They either got tired of him calling or took pity on him, because the fifth time he was informed she was out of town.
Hanging up the phone, he decided that, come what may, he was seeing Julia Ferrington before he left Washington. And he was getting some answers. She might be cool, but she was also exasperating, even though he had yet to meet her. But he would. That he promised, and Chase never broke a promise.
TWO
“You’ve made a wonderful choice, Mrs. Howard. Your mother will enjoy the Bavarian chocolate cream mints, and each time she reuses the crystal dish she’ll think of you.” Handing the young woman the white shopping bag with SWEET TEMPTATION in bold red script, Julia held the shop’s glass front door open for her.
“Thank you, Julia, for gift-wrapping it for me.” The model-thin woman laughed and adjusted the strap of her Fendi bag on her shoulder. “She’ll take forever trying to unwrap the lilac paper without tearing it. Then she’ll store it and the lavender ribbon and silk orchid in her closet saying she’ll use it, but she never will.”
Julia smiled warmly. “I believe I’ve made the same prediction myself a time or two.”
“So have I,” the shopper agreed. “Thanks again.”
Closing the door, Julia glanced around the shop to see if anyone needed help. When she was assisting a customer she always gave them her full attention. Nothing annoyed her more than a salesperson’s impatience or curt dismissal if they saw the potential for a bigger sale.
An older couple browsed contentedly in Aladdin’s Cove, a corner of the store that was devoted entirely to interesting and unique containers for the store’s confections. A little boy of about four stared thoughtfully through the glass case, trying to choose which candy he wanted. At the register a well-dressed gentleman was checking out with a two-pound box of assorted chocolate creams. Since all the customers appeared content and taken care of, Julia decided she could go to her office for a few minutes.
Discreetly signaling Georgette, her assistant manager, who was patiently waiting for the little boy to walk down the twenty-foot glass candy case, Julia went to the back. She took special pride in everything in her shop and always saw that it came first. It had taken her a long time to finally decide in which direction she wanted her life to go, so she didn’t treat her business lightly.
Two years after college, most of her friends had already started to make their mark in the world while she’d wandered aimlessly from job to job. It hadn’t helped that her older sisters never seemed to have any doubts about their career choice. Suzanne was a lobbyist, and Amanda worked for the State Department.
The idea for Sweet Temptation had sprung from filling in for a sick friend for two weeks as a volunteer in the gift shop of a hospital. Julia had always been fond of people and soon learned she had an eye for detail and the unusual. Nine months and a small business loan later, she had opened Sweet Temptation. Her parents had been upset that she hadn’t wanted them to help financially, but she had wanted to do it on her own. And she had.
She truly enjoyed being around people and helping them pick out just the right gift, whether the reasons were personal or business. Because she strongly believed it was equally important to please the e
ye as well as tantalize the taste buds, she was always looking for unique ways in which to package her goods. Thus the occasional buying trips.
Her wrapping paper changed with the season and never repeated itself; her baskets and containers, from paper to brass to crystal, came in an array of colors and shapes and prices. For those who became confused when offered so many choices, Julia, Georgette, or one of her assistants was there to gently guide them. This afternoon, however, Julia was the one in need of guidance.
Sitting behind the neat desk in her office, Julia stared at the five messages from Chase. She was more than a little puzzled. There had been five on her answering machine when she arrived home from her business trip last night as well. Of course, there were other messages from friends and family, but for some unexplained reason she felt the pull of Chase Braxton’s messages more.
A manicured pale pink nail tapped the notes lying on the antique Chippendale desk. Never in her wildest imagination had she expected the distant, impatient man of three nights ago to try so hard to contact her. He certainly wasn’t turning out to be what she had initially thought.
Leaning back in her chair, she bit her lower lip and felt somewhat guilty for putting him through so much trouble in trying to locate her. Since she lived alone, she never wanted the general public to have knowledge of when she was out of town. Her gated condo had security guards on-duty at all times, but it never hurt to be careful.
She had sent Chase the basket to make up for her less than cordial behavior when she returned his phone call. The bottom line was that regardless of her initial unflattering impression of his brash impatience, he was a friend of a friend. More important, just because his behavior was suspect, there was no reason for her to follow suit.
Besides, she’d learned long ago that first impressions could often be influenced by variables the other person wasn’t aware of. Mabel Johnson was as kind as they came, but she wouldn’t put up with a rude, arrogant man, nor would she subject Julia to one. The logical answer, she had concluded after a good night’s sleep, was that there was another reason for Chase’s abruptness.