by Tamie Dearen
“You mean the office rumor about us sleeping together? I’ve come to terms with that. I mean I can certainly see why everyone would think that.”
“No, I meant… Wait—what do you mean, you see why they would think that?”
“You’re you, and I’m me. I got a promotion. Why else would you promote me, right? Only you and I know that would never happen.”
“Because you wouldn’t sleep with a man unless you were married to him, right?”
Anne was relieved. Maybe he actually got it now. “Right. So if you decide you don’t want to promote me after all, I’ll understand.”
“What do you mean? Why would I decide—” The muscles in Steven's jaw began to flex and she could see him breathing hard. When he finally spoke again, his voice was full of hurt. “Are you implying I actually promoted you so you would sleep with me? Is that what you think of me? After all this time together, you actually think that little of me?”
“No… I—”
“I can’t believe it, Anne. Why would you think that?”
“I… I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to think. After you… you know… And I was embarrassed because I was so… you know…”
“So you put two and two together and came up with thirteen?”
“Well—”
“There are other logical conclusions you could have made.”
“Logic has never been my strong point.”
“No kidding! And I sent you on my jet to Fort Worth because…?”
“I don’t know. I feel really bad about that. I wish you’d gotten me a regular ticket. I’ll find some way to pay you back.”
“I don’t want you to pay me back.”
Anne chewed on her lower lip. “But I owe you so much. I’m a proud person—I don’t like to be indebted. You don’t know how that feels.”
“Did it ever occur to you I like doing things for you?”
“I know. You really are a good person—a generous person. You really are sweet.” She gave a hardy nod.
“You’ve got to be the most infuriating woman on the planet!” He jabbed his fingers through his hair until he appeared to have been in a hurricane. Then he looked at her, piercing her with his cold steel-blue eyes. She was caught like a deer in headlights—she couldn’t look away.
Slowly, one hand came up to brush her cheek. Then his fingers dropped, trailing along her chin and down to her neck. She held her breath, afraid to move. Her skin scalded beneath his touch. His hand slid gently around the side of her neck until his fingers splayed on the back of her head.
His face was close. She could feel him breathing. She had to stop him now. Just a word and she knew he would retreat. His questioning eyes searched hers. She squeezed them tight lest he read the desire she couldn’t hide.
His fingers twisted in her hair, and he pulled her face toward his until their foreheads pressed together, their lips almost touching. Her breath came faster, almost panting. She trembled from head to toe. The waiting was torture.
She lifted her hand and tentatively touched his neck. What was she doing? This was a bad idea. He was her boss. If she couldn’t stop him from kissing her, how would she stop him when he wanted more? Yet she moved her mouth toward him, like parched lips seeking water. Her lips parted as she touched them to his—shy, timid, seeking.
He spoke to her in a stilted groan, breathing the words into her mouth. “I… am… not… sweet!” His hand tightened behind her neck and he pressed his lips firmly into hers. He kissed her thoroughly, like nothing she could ever remember in her life.
Then he pulled away with an expletive and sat back against the seat, his chest rising and falling with heavy rapid breaths. She felt bereft—empty—with the departure of his lips. A pain as if a bandage had been torn away from a wound.
He turned to capture her gaze again. “And this time, you kissed me.”
They didn’t speak the rest of the way home. He seemed as lost in his own thoughts as she was in hers. Her emotions were in turmoil. What did this mean? He’d as much as told her he wasn’t trying to sleep with her. Yet, his kiss said something entirely different. And the way her body reacted to him, she knew she was standing on a slippery slope. Hadn’t she warned her own girls not to put themselves in a position where they had to make important decisions in the heat of passion? No one was that strong. And she certainly wasn’t that strong after denying herself for fifteen years.
Only one thing was certain, Steven Gherring wasn’t interested in a long-term relationship with her. If he were, he would have told her. He’d had plenty of opportunities, but he’d never said anything. Even now, in the car, he sat in brooding silence next to her. He seemed to be physically attracted to her. He couldn’t fake his reaction any more than she could. But that’s where it ended. He cared for her, and he was concerned for her, but no more.
More than anything else, she wanted him to find happiness and love. But as much as she might wish it were otherwise, it couldn’t be with her. At least she’d managed to keep her attraction to a physical level.
Good thing I’m not in love with him, or I’d really be a mess!
The car stopped in front of the apartment, and she climbed out. He followed her, carrying both bags. On the elevator, they stared silently at the numbers above the door until they arrived at the tenth floor. She started to take her bags, but he deftly scooped them up and led the way toward her apartment. She had no choice but to follow him and unlock her door. She turned to take her luggage from him, but he pushed his way through the door and deposited her bags on the living room floor. Then he walked back to where she stood just inside the door, watching him with wary eyes.
“I see from your expression you still don’t trust me. What did you think? That I would come in here and kiss you again?” He leaned in close and his voice became coarse. “And then did you think I would wait until you were limp with desire and take you to your bed?”
Shocked by his words, she couldn’t respond. She couldn’t even think.
“Maybe you’re right not to trust me. Because, believe me, I thought about it. It would be so easy, so good… I would kiss your lips.” His hand caressed her face and his thumb slid lightly back and forth, tracing her lips. “And then I would kiss your neck right here under your jaw where your blood is pulsing.” His fingers trailed down, following the path of his words. “And then I would shower kisses here.” Now his hand seared a path to explore the hidden hollow on her shoulder.
She was barely breathing, her eyes closed. She should stop him now, but instead she stood frozen in place—waiting, anticipating. Abruptly, he withdrew his hand. A small cry escaped her lips, and her eyes flew open. His face was inches from hers.
“And afterward, you would look at me with regret and disappointment. I’d become the man you accused me of being earlier tonight. So—” He pressed his lips in a gentle caress to her forehead. “I’ll earn your trust, instead.” He slipped to the door and waited to catch her eyes. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
She’d worked so hard to fight her attraction to Steven, and he’d undone all her efforts in a matter of minutes. And for what purpose?
Why had he kissed her? To tease her? To toy with her emotions? To prevent her from falling in love with Henri? Or had it simply been because he’d felt like doing it, and he was accustomed to getting what he wanted?
All these things had been accomplished, even if they weren’t his ultimate goals. But even if Steven was just teasing her with these physical episodes, she still wanted him to be happy. She still wanted to find a match for him.
She wanted him to find true love, though she would probably never experience it again. Especially now that she would spend the rest of her life comparing every other man to Steven Gherring.
If Anne hadn’t been so exhausted from traveling, sleep would’ve been impossible. As it was, her sleep was fitful and full of disturbing dreams, with her teeth getting loose, one by one, and falling out into her hand.
The next d
ay, Steven appeared to be totally unaffected by their physical encounters, addressing her as Ms. Best and keeping a healthy distance throughout the entire morning. As lunchtime approached, she casually asked him if he’d like to join her for lunch at Papa’s Place. She didn’t mention the fact that Ellen was coming.
His entire face brightened. His eyes sparkled and his dimples danced as he accepted her offer. “I’d love to eat lunch with you, Anne.”
“I need to go down a few minutes early and talk to May about something. Would you mind meeting me down there? May will give us a table in the private room.”
“Sure. What time?”
“If you came down about twelve fifteen, that’d be perfect.” She flashed him a nervous smile.
Hurrying down to meet Ellen, she spotted her long straight glossy locks as soon as she started down the sidewalk toward Papa’s. She’d evidently also caught the eyes of several young men, judging by the way they peered over their shoulders for a second look when they passed by.
“Oh great, you’re on time. Steven is coming, but he doesn’t know you’re going to be here.”
“Terrific.” Ellen’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. “I’ll be his unpleasant surprise. That’s a great way to start.”
“It’s the only way. Trust me.”
Inside Papa’s, May spotted her and hurried over. “Anne, you’re back. You must tell me all about Paris.”
“I didn’t get to go, May. It’s a long story, but my dad was in a car accident and he almost died.”
May and Ellen gasped simultaneously. May asked, “Is he okay?”
“Yes, but several people were killed in the accident. A highway bridge iced over when it started raining. It took out at least ten cars.”
“Anne, I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. And you didn’t get to go to Paris either? That’s a pretty awful Thanksgiving.” A frown formed a wrinkle between Ellen’s eyes.
“My dad is still alive, and I got to see both of my girls. So I’m just counting my blessings.”
“You need to come and catch us up on everything that’s happened. George is pouting because he didn’t get to talk to you the last few times you dropped by,” said May.
“I promise to come soon. We also need to chat about Spencer. But today, I have a favor to ask. Can we sit in the back room? Mr. Gherring is coming.”
“No problem.”
“One more thing. Mr. Gherring doesn’t know Ellen is with me. I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t mention that fact to him.”
May lifted her eyebrows high and gave Ellen the once over. “So I’m guessing you’re trying to make a match with Mr. Gherring and your friend, here?”
Ellen’s cheeks reddened. “It’s not my idea—I think she’s crazy.”
“I tend to agree with you,” chuckled May. She turned back to Anne. “Honey, I won’t breathe a word.”
Anne’s palms were sweating as they waited for Steven to arrive. Perhaps if she were casual enough, he might think it was an accidental meeting rather than a planned setup. After all, this was the first time she’d actually tried to introduce him to someone. He might not be suspicious.
May led him into the back promptly at twelve fifteen. His pleased expression fell when he noticed Anne had company at the table.
“Hi Mr. Gherring. I hope you don’t mind, but I ran into a friend of mine outside.”
“Hi. Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand and presented a forced smile.
Ellen shook it firmly. “Sorry for imposing, Mr. Gherring. My name is Ellen Dean.”
“Ellen’s an actress.”
“How is it you have so many friends? You’ve only been in New York for a few weeks.” His voice betrayed his irritation.
“Ellen was the only person on the subway who would talk to me.”
He glanced at his watch. “You know, I have a pretty busy afternoon. Why don’t you just bring something up to me, and let me leave you both to a peaceful lunch?”
He started to turn, but Anne put out her hand. “You should stay, Mr. Gherring. Ellen is very interesting. Like I said, she’s an actress. She’s got the leading role in a play that starts next week.”
His brows flew for a moment, and then understanding dawned on his face. His expression turned fierce and dark. Anne felt her fingers trembling. Perhaps this hadn’t been such a great idea.
“May I speak to you privately for a moment, Ms. Best?”
She followed him to the door, scrambling for a cover story. “I’m sorry, Mr. Gherring, I didn’t think you’d mind—”
“I know exactly what you’re doing. This is just part of your little plan with Gram, right?” His voice was quiet but left no doubt of his anger.
Anne’s face was burning. “No, I—”
“Give it up. We both know you can’t tell a lie.”
“But you can’t leave now. It would be rude.”
“I can’t believe you still want me to… after all that’s happened…” His eyes hardened into cold blue slits. “Fine! I’ll meet your friend, if that’s what you really want.”
Striding back to the table, he slid into a chair next to Ellen. “It turns out one of my appointments has canceled this afternoon. I have plenty of time for lunch, after all. Tell me about yourself, Ellen. You’re in a play?”
“Yes, it’s my first role. I’m trying to break into the business. I have the lead, but we’re a really small production.”
“What’s it called?”
“Rainbow Junction. Have you heard of it?”
“No, I’m afraid not. But that’s no matter.” He flashed his deep dimples at her. “What’s that fragrance you’re wearing? It’s intoxicating.”
“It’s called ‘Rain.’ Do you like it?”
He picked up her hand and lifted her wrist to his nose. “That’s really nice. It’s light and sweet. It suits you.” He held her hand a moment longer before he released it.
Anne kept a smile plastered on her face as she observed their interaction.
“Thank you, Mr. Gherring.” Ellen blushed, a pretty rose color rising to her cheeks.
“Please. Call me Steven.” His smile was devastating. “You know, Ms. Dean, I just might be interested in supporting this play of yours financially. We should get together and talk more about it.”
“Thanks Mr. Gher—I mean, Steven. We could really use some financial support. It’s a great play, but it’s so far off Broadway no one knows about it.”
“Ellen, I have a terrific idea. I have a benefit dinner tomorrow night. Why don’t you accompany me? We could talk more about your play.”
Anne jumped into the conversation. “Wait. You have a dinner tomorrow night? I didn’t know about that—”
He pinned her with cold, angry eyes. “No, you didn’t. That was not an accident. I purposely left it off your calendar.”
He turned back to Ellen. “Can you believe that Ms. Best has been plotting with my dear grandmother to set me up with a potential wife? Yes, it seems she’s even resorted to meddling with my dinner escorts. Unbelievable, right?”
“That’s pretty crazy, I guess.”
“Yes, indeed. It seems she’s working overtime to get me hitched. To someone. To anyone who’ll have me, I suppose. Despite the fact I specifically asked her not to interfere. So Ellen, are we on for tomorrow night?”
“Sure.” She glanced nervously at Anne.
“Great.” He smiled, his sky-blue eyes studying Ellen. “Your hair is really striking. Do you do something to straighten it?”
“No, I’m one quarter Asian. It’s naturally straight.”
He reached out and lifted a lock of her long hair in his hands, gazing as the silky strand slipped through his fingers. “I hope you’ll wear it down tomorrow night. I really like it.”
“Sure… okay…”
“Ms. Best,” he said without taking his eyes off of Ellen. “I’ll need Ellen’s contact information.”
The waitress arrived with their orders, but Steven stood. “I’m sorry for the
inconvenience ma’am, but I’ll need mine boxed to go.”
He turned to Ellen and lifted the back of her hand to press it against his lips. His clear eyes caught hers in their trance. His voice was low and resonant. “Madame… Until tomorrow night, ma jolie fille.”
Anne barely touched her lunch. She supposed her stomach was upset because she knew Steven was angry with her. Still the meeting seemed to have gone extraordinarily well. Ellen was excited the show might be getting some much-needed funding and chatted with great animation throughout the rest of the meal. But instead of the elation she ought to be experiencing, Anne felt a gnawing pain in the pit of her stomach. Why wasn’t she thrilled? Steven appeared to be enthralled with Ellen. If his date went well on Tuesday night, Steven might never try to kiss her again. Wasn’t that what she wanted? More importantly, she wouldn’t have to worry about what that kiss might lead to. She pushed her food around on her plate until she finally gave up and asked for a doggy bag.
Steven's office door was closed, so Anne decided to FaceTime with Henri.
“Hello Anne.” Henri’s smiling face appeared on the screen. Still sporting the scruffy look, he smiled with tired eyes.
“Hey. I missed hearing your voice. How is Anna-Laure doing?”
“She has had a rough time today, but hopefully the worst is over. But she loves the book you sent her. Where did you find it?”
“I ordered it online. A seven-year-old with cancer wrote it, and it’s been translated into three languages. I wanted to do something. And since I couldn’t come to Paris, I had it sent straight to you. So she really likes it?”
“I think so. She has read it four times already.”
“Will you be able to come this weekend?”
Henri hesitated. “Yes… I am planning to go to Chicago for business on Wednesday. I will be in New York for the weekend.”
“If you’re here on Saturday, would you like to go to the company Christmas party with me? I’m kind of expected to go, since I planned most of it.”
“Maybe… but I am not feeling much like a party.”
“It’s okay if you don’t want to go. We can just wait and see how you feel.”