Dancing in the Dark

by Linda Cajio

  Her hair was a rich brown, the color of dark honey, and curved around her features. Her face wasn’t classically beautiful, but was still somehow memorable, with her wide brown eyes and generous mouth. A mouth made for kissing. And her body didn’t quit. Watching her walk away from the building to her car that first time had been a study in sensual motion. She was tall; in heels she nearly matched his six feet. That made eye contact just about perfect. When he could catch it. She was extremely shy.

  And nervous. At least, she seemed that way. First she’d blushed fiercely red, then she’d had a case of the giggles. Those weren’t reactions he’d expected, but he was willing to continue his pursuit. Too much about her was intriguing.

  He’d have to watch himself, though. When she’d seemed unwell, all that oversensitivity he’d thought he’d rid himself of had rushed to the fore. When she’d said she wasn’t ill, he’d had to force himself not to keep pressing.

  “Well,” she said, smiling slightly. “I don’t want to keep you any longer … Jake. And I better be getting back to my desk.”

  “Fine. How about if we get together tonight to talk about—”

  “I’m sorry,” she interrupted, “but I have a class.”

  He blinked, then remembered she had said something about classes. “Then tomorrow—”

  “I have to study.” She smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry.”

  He frowned. He might want Charity on a personal level, but he wouldn’t risk the new project if she couldn’t handle it. All he’d discovered about her work habits told him she was perfect for the job, and it was a good opportunity for her. But scheduling was clearly going to be a problem. “Well, how about right after work? We really need to go over what I want you to do.”

  “Ahhh …” She looked unhappy. “I’m sorry to ask, but can’t we do it during working hours?”

  “I wouldn’t want to impose on Dave. It wouldn’t be fair for me to pull rank on him and borrow his secretary when he needs her too.”

  “Right.” Her voice was flat.

  He smiled encouragingly. “Really, Charity, it won’t take long at all. I know you’re worried about that.”

  She nodded, though she still looked unconvinced. He decided he’d just have to convince her.

  “We’ll get together toward the end of the day. Go on back to your desk now,” he added in a good-natured tone, waving his hands in a shooing motion. “The sooner you do Dave’s work, the sooner you can do mine.”

  The look she shot him was murderous. He wondered what he’d said to offend her, but she stepped around him and took off for her department, her high heels tapping on the polished checkerboard tiles.

  He realized now that what he was asking of her was more difficult than he’d anticipated. But he had to have her help. After seeing that one company go under, he’d vowed never to lose another one, and he’d kept that promise with all the companies he’d worked with since. He’d fight like hell before he let Wayans go bankrupt. He had some other strategies besides this one project to pull the company out of its mire. They weren’t as easy as a multimillion-dollar government deal, though, and the work would be a double pleasure with Charity involved. That is, if he got anywhere with her.

  He had to. The urge to be with her was so powerful, it shook him, and he could feel it coalescing inside him. Something about her pulled at him deeply, arousing more than just an interest in an attractive woman. Was this how eagles recognized their mates?

  And then he remembered that eagles mated for life.

  Jake touched his heart, feeling it beating steadily inside his chest. True, the emotional urge for her was strong, but could it be that strong? He shook his head, deciding he was mistaking a potent physical attraction for something more.

  He also decided that later on that afternoon he’d have ample opportunity to fix whatever he’d said to offend her. He walked to the archive room door, whistling.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Halford,” the clerk said in an attention-getting voice.

  “Hi,” he said without glancing at the woman. He went back to his whistling.

  He had a feeling Charity Brown would be pleased with both projects in the end.

  The one she knew about and the one she didn’t.

  Several hours later Charity walked into Jake Halford’s office with the distinct feeling she was walking into her doom.

  Doom looked pretty good, she had to admit, surveying the room. The walls and rugs were done in tones of gray and beige, and the gleaming mahogany furnishings added warmth. Jake Halford was not a man who believed a desktop should be devoid of all but a lamp and phone, as Dave did. Jake’s desk was a vast ocean of wood filled with orderly piles of paperwork. She approved of that.

  He was leaning back in his chair, reading something, and she decided doom also looked pretty good in the guise of man. His dark-blue suit fit him perfectly. It probably was tailor-made. His hair was brushed back from his face, and he was sporting a shadow of a beard. She bet he had to shave twice a day.

  He glanced up and asked her to take a seat, then went back to his reading.

  She slipped gingerly into a director-style chair. He continued to read, and she looked up at the ceiling … at the credenza on her right … at the door on her left … out the window behind the desk. He kept right on reading, and she cursed under her breath. She had a test that night in her marketing class and she wanted to go over the chapters once more. Worse, his dawdling kept her enclosed in this room with him. The office was spacious, yet felt like a closet with his presence. And that was the word, she thought. He had presence, virility. Sexual magnetism. Looking at him could be harmful to her blood pressure, her heart rate, and she tried to keep her gaze focused right above his head.

  Finally, he put down his paperwork and leaned forward in his chair, his arms on the desktop. He stared at her.

  She looked right back, determined not to be intimidated. “You said you had work for me.”

  “A special project.” He smiled an easy smile. “Wayans has the opportunity to bid on a big army project. We would supply several major departments with a complete overhaul of their computer systems and maintain them for the next ten years. They want computers and all other office automation equipment—with all software and local area networking, LAN, special software adaptations, and operating systems—to communicate with what they currently have.”

  “Is this for defense work?” Charity asked. They’d done several defense projects before and they were always headaches.

  “No,” Jake said. “Information. Their offices are antiquated. The contract, if we get it, will include upgrades and ‘technology refreshment.’ ”

  Charity smiled at the doublespeak phrase for receiving new equipment whenever it became available.

  “It’ll mean millions for the company,” he went on. “I won’t lie to you, Charity. Wayans is in big trouble. I’m instituting a number of programs to streamline us and get us back on track. But this contract would put us over the top.”

  The word “streamlining” had an ominous ring to it, but Charity pushed that aside. Instead, she calculated the scope of the project he was talking about. It would mean jobs for years to come, and more opportunities within and outside the company. She could feel the door opening for herself. And she’d better walk through it. She was thirty years old, single, and likely to stay that way.

  Jake continued. “I want you to research and organize the basic system components. We’re a small company in the scheme of things, going up against big competitors. I expect the computer manufacturers themselves to bid on the project. That means we’re going to have to be inventive with the combinations of equipment and software we put together, and we’ll really need to push the personal-service angle. We’ll be the systems integrator.”

  She groaned at the thought of all the work involved in being the systems integrator. They would have to figure out the myriad components required and who could supply them, then they’d have to put the various computer equipm
ent and software into a special networking system at the cheapest price. By buying “à la carte” from different manufacturers and suppliers rather than using just one system, they could undercut the big guys’ prices.

  “Is there a problem?” he asked.

  “No.” She carefully added, “This seems to be more like a project for the whole staff to be on—”

  “No.” His gaze was as adamant as his voice. “This is my project. Anyone has a problem with that, they can come to me. Bring in one of the techs to help you with the specifications. But basically I want this quiet.”

  “That’s not going to be easy,” she told him.

  “I know what the office politics are like, but I don’t want the specs blabbed. The less people know, the better. We’re going to have to come up with a unique solution for integrating the systems, which means there’s going to be a nondisclosure statement involved.”

  Charity nodded in understanding. “Unique solutions” usually necessitated a nondisclosure so their competitors couldn’t find out what they were doing and steal it. That also meant only those within the company who were cleared to work on the project would know its specifications. Unfortunately, a savvy person seeing what was coming into the warehouse could figure out the “unique solution” fairly well. They did this sort of thing for a living, after all.

  She’d be damned, though, if she’d catch the blame when it got out that she’d been given a big project to work on. And it would get out. She and one tech couldn’t take this kind of time together without someone noticing and snooping around. Besides, Dave had a big mouth.

  Jake spoke, drawing her attention back to him. “I don’t want it to get out prematurely if I can help it, even here at Wayans. Do you have a tech you can trust?”

  She nodded. “Mary DeMario.”

  “I’ll get the specs together for you. How about dinner tonight—”

  “I’m sorry,” she interrupted, her insides tensing at his blatant gall. “I have a class tonight. I told you before.”

  “Can’t you make it up or something? This is business.”

  “No, I cannot make it up.” Men, she thought in disgust. They could sound like petulant children when they didn’t get their way. “Business will have to be during business hours.”

  “Okay.” He smiled to show no hard feelings. “Then we’ll keep off-hours to the personal. How about a guided tour of Milton this weekend? You can’t have a class then.”

  She had to admit she’d fallen into that trap. “If you’ve seen the Wayans building and Main Street, then you’ve seen Milton.” She took a deep breath. “I prefer to keep my business relationships to business only.”

  He stared at her for a moment, and she began to wish the floor would open up and swallow her. She’d never seen such a stony expression on a person’s face in her life.

  “Wayans has no fraternization restrictions,” he said at last. “And if it does, I’ve just rescinded them.” His smile was so warm, so beguiling, she almost believed she’d imagined that flint-hard expression. “Come on, Charity. What’s so frightening about a little dinner?”

  “Nothing,” she lied. “It’s my own personal policy and it’s a good one.”

  “I think it’s lousy.”

  She rose to her feet. “You don’t have a player on this one, Mr. Halford. While I’m flattered, I don’t socialize with coworkers. Or the boss.”

  He stood too. “It’s just dinner, Charity.”

  “And I appreciate it. But I must decline. Now, I have a test tonight and I need to study.”

  She got out of that room as fast as she could. Once she’d closed the door behind her, she breathed a sigh of relief. Getting out of a date was too tricky for comfort. Working with him was one thing, dinner was another. It was far too intimate, which could lead to other far too intimate happenings.

  She was terrified of the other intimate happenings—especially with a man who danced naked and howled at the moon.

  Two

  “He asked Bill and Helga to take early retirement!”

  “Oh, both of them were retiring next year anyway. But did you hear about his wanting to cut out the Christmas bonuses?”

  “What bonus? All we ever get is a turkey from the supermarket.”

  “Well, we’re not getting even that anymore! And he’s advertising classes for the men about some movement thing—”

  “We’re in the right room for that.”

  Inside a ladies room stall, Charity chuckled as she adjusted her skirt and listened to the gossip at the sinks. What she could contribute to the conversation would turn them all on their heads. Dances with No Clothes On was making a big impression without that, however.

  She had a feeling these changes were only the tip of the proverbial iceberg and would be nothing after the ice melted. Even though she knew the company was doing too poorly to blame on a national recession, she still hated the elimination of the little things. It just made people disgruntled. The goodwill value of turkeys far outweighed the cost.

  She emerged from the stall, and the room went completely silent. The four women at the sinks stared at her as if she’d suddenly grown two noses. It had been a week since Jake had assigned the government project to her, and the time she’d been spending with him had not gone unnoticed.

  “What?” a woman in a stall called out. “I can’t hear anything!”

  “That’s because I’m here,” Charity called back. “Charity Brown.”

  “Oh.” She could almost hear the woman swallowing her embarrassment.

  Charity smiled at the other women, who suddenly busied themselves with fixing their hair or getting back to work. Nobody could quite look her in the eye, and she knew it was going to get worse before it got better.

  “I know, I know,” she said, washing her hands. “I’m hanging out with the Big Guy, and you’re all thinking I’m the latest in I Spy.”

  If they knew the meetings she had with Jake were developing a serious undertone that had nothing to do with business, if they knew of the fierce longing growing within her to share something more intimate than computer specs with him … well, that would elevate the gossip level to explosive proportions. Every time she was with him she was all too aware of the way he smiled … the way he moved with a wholly masculine grace … the way he would look straight into her eyes, then lower his gaze to her mouth … and the way a lambent fire flared in his eyes whenever that happened. And it was happening more and more frequently.

  “Actually,” she said, forcing her brain back to the women, “he’s got a special project on that will be a big boost for Wayans.” It was better to give them a little bit than to have them speculate and start too many rumors. “He put me on the team directly. Not the usual runaround of the manager gets the glory and we get all the work. I can’t say anything more about the project. Nondisclosure.”

  Everyone in the room was frozen, listening with rapt attention, brushes poised in midair. She took a deep breath and took a calculated risk. “I think, ladies, we will see that Halford understands who really does the work in this company.”

  “Really?” It was almost voiced as one.

  She nodded.

  Immediately, the women began wondering what kind of changes would come to the company that would benefit them.

  Charity heaved a mental sigh, grateful that she’d found a way to take their interest off her. Jake had to really understand, she thought. Otherwise, why would he have given the job straight to her rather than to Dave?

  Her peeved boss was waiting for her when she returned from the lavatory.

  “Your friend upstairs called,” Dave said. He was a short man, slight dumpy, with pale skin. Charity always thought he had a frightened look in his eyes, as if someone were going to find out he was in over his head. She wanted to tell him he’d be much better at his job and at handling people if he quit reacting to office politics and just relaxed.

  “We don’t have an upstairs, Dave.” She smiled sweetly. “I take it you mea
n Ja—Mr. Halford.”

  “I think he’s crazy,” Dave said. “Why give this job to you? I always do them. Besides, how can I get anything done if you’re always powwowed with him?”

  Charity resisted the urge to tell him off. If he always did the job, then why did he need her to get anything done? A little diplomacy, she reminded herself. He was hurting and, knowing him, worried about his position with the company. She could afford to live up to her name. Lest she forget, she still had to work with the man after the project was done. “It’s not a big deal, Dave. But Mr. Halford’s requiring a nondisclosure statement for the ‘unique solution’ Wayans comes up with. It’s just standard paranoia. We know how ‘unique’ these solutions really are.”

  Dave made a face that indicated his understanding and temporary defeat. “Halford’s still nuts. All the men have to attend a meeting this afternoon with him. It’s mandatory.”

  “Mandatory?” Charity echoed, her brain scrambling to digest this implication. The meeting had been mentioned in the bathroom, but not this little tidbit.

  Dave smiled smugly. “Just us.”

  “Oh.” She shrugged and pulled out her chair. Whatever it was, she wasn’t going to let it get to her, she decided.

  “Halford’s waiting,” Dave reminded her.

  She hit a button and called up a file on her computer. “I need to finish those orders for Bickman’s first and get them to the warehouse. It’ll take only a few minutes.”

  “Oh.” Dave looked stunned that she was doing her job.

  Charity shook her head and grinned to herself. It didn’t hurt to signal to everyone that she knew where her priorities lay.

  A short time later her second boss was nearly as crabby as her first.

  “I called for you hours ago,” Jake said.

  Charity decided to blow up the meeting that afternoon. Every male at Wayans would be there, but especially this one. She settled into the chair in front of his desk. “I had orders to get out for Bickman’s. You did instruct me not to neglect my job.”