Saved by the Salsa

by Barbara Barrett

  She presented another kind of problem as well. One he couldn’t offset with his own—well, Jean’s, research. The woman had his hormones raging. Though he’d only touched her hand for a matter of seconds when he helped her gather her papers, he’d come away with the distinct memory of skin as smooth as a rose petal. He’d had to drag himself back into his chair to keep from touching her again, prolonging the sensation.

  The sooner he got rid of her, the better.

  Then realization hit. Damn! He’d blown his own plan. Proceeding with the project without her input was supposed to get her so irritated and huffy she’d quit. But he’d become so engrossed in her research and not letting it make him look too uninformed and stupid, he’d forgotten to make the most of his sketches.

  Now how was he supposed to deal with her?

  ****

  Lacey plopped the folder containing her research on her desk. So her proclivity for order and method gave Mr. Shoot-from-the-hip a headache? His noggin hadn’t seen anything yet. Wait ’til she overwhelmed him with her project plan.

  With no time to waste on dead end theories, they needed every tool available to stay on track. Her head swirled with information, unexpected insights, and questions. Questions about penetrating the Great Jack Dalton’s armor and about her own physical response to the man.

  Her fingers tapped a frenetic rhythm on her desk, her body a boiling caldron of energy. She’d been on the right track with her research on boomers. Even Jack had begrudgingly admitted as much. She could knock out a project plan and the additional research to answer Jack’s questions in a few more hours.

  What troubled her was the guy himself. He was an enigma. The day before, he was adamantly opposed to the project, and today, if he’d been working solo on this project, he would have settled for the drivel he tried to peddle. What had he been thinking, dashing off all those sketches? Did he really think she’d be impressed? Or the least bit ready to agree to his ideas so quickly?

  “What are you up to, Jack Dalton?” she said to no one in particular. Though they’d worked together no more than a couple of days, she was pretty sure he didn’t extend himself for nothing. There’d been a reason for those sketches. She just hadn’t identified it yet. But she would.

  She had to be leery of the man. Ignore whatever physical reactions his touch or his look produced. Which reminded her—she picked up her cell phone and hit speed dial. “Got any plans for tonight, Brian?”

  “No. Why?”

  “I’d like you to be my date for an office shindig. Sorry for the late notice. I forgot about it until someone just reminded me.” She told him about Cam’s party, as she and Celia had discussed previously. “I have to warn you, though. Celia will be there. With Jack Dalton.”

  The other end of the line remained silent. Finally, in a lower, less enthusiastic voice, he said, “She’s seeing him again? So soon?”

  “I heard him confirming the date with her not long ago. I could use your company, but not if you’re going to fixate on Celia all evening.”

  He cleared his throat. “Fixate? Of course not! I’m happy she’s found someone else so soon. I don’t know this Dalton guy very well, but from what I do know of him, I find it difficult to see the two of them as compatible, is all.”

  Bluffing. She couldn’t wait to tell Celia how well their plan was working. “Okay, it’s a date. Pick me up at six-thirty.”

  The call finished, she returned to her earlier speculations. If she’d read the signals correctly, Jack Dalton designed what he wanted and then sold his product to his clients with his more personal qualities. Until today, he hadn’t put much stock in research. She could see it in his eyes the minute he realized she’d provided a missing element to their puzzle.

  Whether he liked it or not, he needed her for this project. Lacey was no secondary player. The knowledge alone spurred her on through the afternoon, checking one resource after another.

  When she finally thought to check the time, she realized she only had forty-five minutes to get ready for the night’s big event.

  Chapter Six

  “You surprise me, Celia.” Jack darted a glance at his date as they drove to the party. “All these years I’ve thought of you as a sensible, open, no-nonsense person. The what-you-see-is-what-you-get type. Who’d have thought you capable of a charade like this?”

  “Until yesterday, I was the person you described. Look where it got me. Dropped like a hot dish after two years, when it started getting serious.”

  “Most men shy away from commitment. Look at me.”

  “Yes, look at you. How have you managed to elude marriage so long?”

  He returned his eyes to traffic. “Me? I’m not the marrying type.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He opened his mouth, then clamped it shut. What did it mean? He was never able to answer it for his parents, either. “Guess I’m comfortable with the way things are going in my life.”

  “Comfortable, huh? So you’re happy? Content?”

  “Of course I’m hap—never mind. Don’t concern yourself with me. And don’t play matchmaker. I’m fine. So drop it.”

  She seemed to study him a little too long before replying, “Just making conversation.”

  It was going to take all his energy tonight to play the dutiful escort. He wasn’t up to defending his bachelorhood as well. It was tough enough dealing with his parents’ questions on the same subject every time they were in town.

  Fortunately, his car was nearing the country club, which ended the inquisition. Celia turned her attention to gathering her things and mercifully complied with his request to forget about his personal life.

  ****

  “See, Lacey. We’re not the first ones here,” Brian reassured her as they strolled into the ballroom of the country club twenty minutes early.

  “I still don’t see why you were in such a hurry to get here.” She reached behind her neck to assure herself the zipper on her black crepe cocktail dress was pulled up. “I had to dress so fast, it feels like something’s missing or undone.”

  He turned her around to check her out, then stepped around her to study the front. “You look fine. There was no point wasting time at your apartment when we could be here selecting the best seats in the house.”

  “I don’t want the best seats if they’re anywhere in the vicinity of Cameron Mackenzie, or he’ll be wanting a progress report on my new project, which I’m not ready to discuss.” She spied a round table in the middle of the room, which appeared to be reserved for the birthday boy, so she made her way to a point several tables away. Once everyone else arrived, the location promised relative obscurity.

  “New project?” Brian pulled out a chair for her.

  “Can’t talk about it. The boss is being very close-mouthed about the client and has sworn us to secrecy on the few details we do know.”

  Brian took a seat beside her. “Sounds mysterious.”

  “Not the cloak and dagger kind. The secrecy thing is probably unnecessary, but since this is bigger than my previous assignments and potentially a huge career step, I’m not going to question it or do anything to jeopardize my part. “

  “Congratulations. Guess I was so wrapped up telling you about Celia and me the other night, I didn’t ask what you’d been up to. Sorry.”

  “There wouldn’t have been anything to say. Uh, except one thing. Jack Dalton is my partner.”

  Brian swiveled in his seat to face her. “You and Jack Dalton? The same guy who took Celia to lunch?”

  “Yes. He’s considered the firm’s golden boy, so working directly with him is a bit of a coup.”

  “Golden boy or not, you’re pretty talented yourself. Don’t let him take credit for your ideas.”

  “I’m touched. I didn’t realize you paid much attention to my job.”

  “I’ve driven by every house you’ve ever designed.” He rearranged his place setting. “Since discussing your new project is off limits, let’s decide on the type of flowe
rs to place on Mother’s grave this year.”

  She’d forgotten about the approaching event. Every year since their mother’s death, she and Brian placed fresh flowers on her gravesite on her birthday. “Does it really matter? Mom loved all flowers. She didn’t have a favorite.”

  “We have to choose something meaningful. To honor her memory.”

  This really wasn’t the place to examine Brian’s inability to move on, but since the room was still relatively empty she plunged ahead. “Do we really need to continue this practice? Mom’s spirit is inside me. I don’t need the flowers tradition anymore.”

  “How can you even suggest such a thing? We don’t want to forget her.”

  In some ways, their mother’s death had affected him more strongly than Lacey, because he’d had to become the surrogate parent at the same time he’d been the grieving child. Although it was long past time to get on with his life, in some ways he seemed to fight the idea.

  Obviously making no headway, she acceded to his wishes, saving this conversation for another day. She suggested pink roses and he agreed, said he’d take care of it. He always took care of it. But at least, for now, he was pacified, willing to drop the subject. She was grateful to have it decided for another year.

  They sat in silence until Brian said, “I could use a drink. Do you want something?”

  She sent him for white wine while she wondered if she might have forgotten to change shoes. Brian had been in a bigger rush to get going than usual. She leaned down to reassure herself the shoes were the right ones. While her head was below the tabletop, she thought she heard voices but couldn’t make out what they were saying.

  When she popped up, she discovered she was no longer alone. Celia and Jack stood on the other side. Jack was about to pull out Celia’s chair. Neither appeared to notice her until Celia was seated.

  Her friend winked. “Lacey. Fancy seeing you here.”

  “Small world,” she replied. “But why aren’t the two of you finding seats closer to the birthday boy?”

  Jack gave her a knowing look. “We’re keeping our distance tonight. Allowing the boss to be surrounded by friends and family rather than fawning employees.”

  Did he mean her? Or was she overly sensitive to anything Jack had to say?

  Before she had a chance to think of a pithy retort, a wine glass appeared in front of her. “Here you go,” Brian said. “The bar line’s—” Then he noticed their dinner companions. His voice grew strained. “Celia. Dalton.”

  “Brian! What a surprise. I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.” Celia made a show of appearing embarrassed, her eyes growing wide with surprise, then shifting away to focus anywhere in the room except on her former beau.

  “I forgot to get a date, so I asked Brian to accompany me,” Lacey explained. She had no idea what Brian would have blurted out if left on his own to greet the two new arrivals. She wanted him to feel uncomfortable, but she didn’t want him to make a scene.

  She turned a bright smile his direction, placed her hand on his forearm. “Thanks for the wine.” As unobtrusively as she could, she pressed down. “Have a seat and enjoy your drink.”

  Brian gulped his scotch, then spent the next few minutes clearing his throat, trying valiantly not to cough. Though he appeared to be focusing on the glass before him, he kept sneaking glances at the other couple. Each time, his expression more closely resembled a glare.

  The four of them sat in uncomfortable silence. Finally, Jack remembered his manners and offered to get Celia a drink.

  “Yes, thank you. I believe I will have something,” Celia said. “How about a champagne cocktail?”

  As soon as Jack left, Brian went on the offensive. “You’ve started drinking?”

  He leaned so far into the table he nearly spilled his drink. Lacey placed a restraining, sisterly hand on his leg.

  “I’ve never been a teetotaler, Brian. I simply refrained from indulging these last few years for your sake, although I see you’ve hit the hard stuff tonight yourself.”

  “I never said—”

  “Not in so many words. But you had a way of imposing your preferences nonverbally.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “Water under the bridge. This is the new, improved Celia Fairchild you’re speaking to. She’s trying different things these days, like champagne cocktails.”

  On cue, Jack arrived with the drink in question. “What have I missed?” He glanced from Celia to Brian to Lacey. “My, my. Should I retrieve your wrap, Cee? The temperature seems to have dropped several degrees since I left.”

  Celia patted his hands. “No need, Jack. We were just…reminiscing.”

  “Uh-huh. How about we find a new topic, then, before I freeze?”

  “Good idea,” Lacey agreed. “Any suggestions?”

  Jack looked at Celia, then back to Brian. “How about antiquing? Cee and I plan to spend Sunday checking out some shops in the area. I understand you’re a bit of a collector yourself, Brian. Where would you suggest we go?”

  Lacey held her breath. Brian was too much a gentleman to answer Jack’s question the way he’d really like to. What would he do instead?

  Brian shot a questioning look at Celia. “You hated going with me to see antiques. You said the moldy smell bothered you. Now you’re interested?”

  “Jack’s been telling me about some of his recent finds, and the search sounded so intriguing, I asked to go along.”

  Jack’s facial expression portrayed innocence. “Didn’t realize it was a sensitive subject.”

  Brian folded his hands in his lap. “Many of the shops in the smaller towns won’t be open Sunday. I’d suggest you stay close to the city. Valley Junction’s always a great place to look.” He sounded so stiff, Lacey wondered if his face might crack.

  She searched her brain for something else they could discuss without friction. The party was barely fifteen minutes along. They still had a couple hours of small talk and social amenities to wade through, but no topic seemed to be safe. She turned to the tried-and-true. “Your dress is beautiful, Celia. It’s new, isn’t it?”

  The recipient of the compliment sat a little straighter and offered a grateful smile. “Yes, it is. Everything I owned seemed so frumpy, so I went on a little shopping spree. I’m glad you like it.”

  Brian observed, “It’s a little too—” He stopped when three sets of eyes stared him down. “Red for your coloring,” he finally said, “but you look very…nice.”

  “Thank you,” Celia replied.

  Just as a waiter approached, Brian pushed away from the table. “I, uh, just remembered something I was supposed to do tonight.” He turned to his sister. “Sorry, Lacey. You stay. I have to take off.” He skittered away, not looking back.

  Lacey mumbled a quick apology and ran after her brother, catching up with him near the front entrance. Pulling him aside by the cloakroom, she said, “Are you okay? You’ve grown pale, although there are red blotches on your neck.”

  Brian pawed the floor like a caged animal. “I underestimated my ability to deal with Celia in a social context. It’s too soon. I want her to be happy, but I can’t watch. Not yet.”

  “Do you regret cutting her loose?” She tried to keep her tone inquisitive, not hopeful.

  “What’s the deal with the new dress and drinking? Especially with Jack Dalton! When did they get so close?”

  “You threw her a real curve, breaking up like you did. She’s trying to bounce back by changing her image.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with her old image.” He shot a glance back at the table they’d just left. “Although, I kind of like her dress.”

  “I’ll tell her.”

  “But encourage her not to go overboard.” He made no move to leave. Finally, he added, “I never meant to hurt her.”

  “I know. Deep down, Celia does too.”

  He massaged his temples. “It wasn’t easy breaking up with her. I contemplated it for weeks, listed all the pros and cons. I figu
red she’d see other men, eventually, and someday, she’d find one to spend the rest of her life with. I just didn’t think she’d rebound so soon. With a guy like Jack Dalton, no less.”

  “Even you would have to admit he’s fairly good looking, and smart, and well, attentive to Celia.”

  “Watch out for her. She’s obviously not thinking clearly these days.”

  Who’s not thinking clearly, dear brother? “Are you sure you have to leave?”

  He shook his head. “Yes. Apologize for me. I can’t watch her rebounding.”

  Even after her brother left for the parking lot, Lacey continued to stand there. Had they succeeded or failed miserably? They’d certainly gotten quite a reaction from Brian. But now, would he simply double up his efforts to separate himself from Celia?

  At the table, she discovered Celia had fled to the women’s lounge soon after Brian’s departure. Lacey left Jack chatting with the newest arrivals and made her way to find her friend.

  Celia blotted her lips with a tissue. When she saw Lacey, she quickly wadded it up and threw it away. “What did he say? Did we get the point across?”

  Lacey studied her face in the mirror. It had grown pale with bright pink spots on her cheeks. “Brian’s no good at spontaneity. He was totally flummoxed seeing you and Jack together. We all witnessed raw need. He seems to have no idea how to deal with it.”

  “Are you sure this is the way to change his mind?” Celia’s voice carried its own rawness.

  “No. I hated seeing him so miserable. But other than waiting to see if he ever comes to his senses, this was our best course of action.” She didn’t mention the other reason she’d pushed this idea on Celia, to help her cool her own jets around Jack.

  Celia smoothed her skirt and made ready to leave. “I should get back out there. Even though the main event for us is over, there’s always Cam’s show.”

  “Brian asked me to apologize, so we’re making progress. Of sorts. We’re getting to him. He didn’t trust his resolve.” Okay, her comments were a bit of a stretch, but her friend needed a lifeline.