“The gold tree is a bit much for my tastes,” he shrugged, “but it’s their culture. Did you know they do Vodka and Caviar Tasting?”
“Vodka tasking? I can image Caviar, but Vodka?”
“They are quite serious about it. I participated once. They had Vodka—Wild American Hackleback, American Paddlefish Roe, Wild Alaskan Salmon Roe, and Flight of Vodka Three.”
“What in the world is Flight of Vodka Three?”
“Jewel of Russian Wild Berry, Russian Standard, which standard for Russian is excellence, and, oh yes, Stolichnaya.”
“Sounds like you know your Vodka,” she said.
“Did I hear Vodka?” Gardner had returned with a tray resting on one hand. “I will gladly bring Miss Stratton several choices for tasting. May I?”
“Maybe after I have my wine.”
“But surely, you must taste the Vodka first. For you may not want your wine.” Gardner gave an enticing smile which made her think he’d practiced often.
“Wonderful. For each of us, please.” Douglas spoke with enthusiasm.
“I didn’t expect to be staggering drunk in the afternoon. Which is what I will be if we imbibe on Vodka.”
“Don’t worry. The samples are small. The sipping is up to you.”
“Thank you,” Carrie said.
“For what?”
“For giving me something else to think about.”
“Would the thing you would like to avoid thinking about happen to concern a certain employee?”
“Brad. His betrayal.”
“That’s why I wanted to see you. Unless you would rather I not mention him.”
She studied the intricate silver before she answered. “It wasn’t very pretty. I had to fire him.”
Douglas patted the back of her hand. “I’m sorry. But it does happen.”
His thoughtfulness warmed her. She lifted her gaze to his.
“Greed,” he spat. “It’s disgusting how quickly a man can turn his loyalty when money is involved.”
“Men.” Carrie grunted.
“And women. Don’t exact the blame on one gender.”
A waiter arrived with a tray of petite-stemmed glassware containing generous amounts of translucent liquid. He described each one with a skillful flourish, asked if they needed anything else, and left. Douglas slid one glass in front of her. Without hesitation, she downed the contents, and immediately gasped for air. When Douglas raised his arm offering to beat her on her back, she held up a hand to stop him.
She swallowed, placed her hands on the table, and sucked in air, tempted to do it again.
“Tell me what happened,” Douglas urged in a soothing voice.
“I called Brad to my office. He swaggered in. His usual self-assurance had switched to smugness. He handled it about like you would expect. He voiced his resentment. Then he issued threats.” She glanced up to find concerned eyes locked with hers. “Why did you want to see me?”
“I suspected you would confront him today. Yes, I’m checking up on you.”
Her jaw tightened and she stiffened her spine.
“I know you can handle yourself. You’re tough. But even the strongest person has an attack of conscious when betrayal is involved. It hurts. Then you wonder why you didn’t see it. How you missed the signs.”
He placed a warm hand over hers. “Don’t beat yourself up. This sort of thing happens and it is beyond our control.”
Carrie’s heart swelled. Tears threatened at his caring. Who knew?
Suddenly his expression turned harsh and his eyes darkened the same time his hand tightened on hers.
“Douglas. What is it?”
“That man. In the doorway.” His eyes remained focused over her shoulder.
When she turned, she caught sight of Matthew’s profile as he walked out of the room. Her first reaction was delight. He looked so good. Then the shadow of Brad’s deception, and his pointing the finger at her boyfriend, shattered any pleasure she had received at seeing Matthew.
Slowly Douglas’s words registered. His reaction made her uneasy. “Do you know him?”
“I don’t know him, but I saw him with Brad.”
Dread hit her stomach like a cannon ball. The Vodka burned, or was it the acid of a man’s deceit.
“When?”
Douglas swirled the ice in his Scotch before his gaze returned to her.
“A few weeks ago. My informant gave me a list of places Brad habitually visited. I wanted to see for myself who he met. It was brief. They only exchanged a few words. But I saw him.
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure he is the man I saw with Brad.
Chapter 24
Carrie had turned off her phone as soon as she got home, for all the good it did. Matthew had called once, hours ago. He’d left a brief message and hadn’t called back. Whatever her assistant told him, either he’d taken the hint, or he didn’t care.
She swiped at the tears sliding from her eyes. It would seem she had a heart after-all. Damn and double damn. She was made of sterner stuff. She had never cried over a man. Why cry now?
Because she was so damn mad at herself. She knew better. How could she have been such a fool? She’d actually let down her guard. And what happened? He’d given her a good kick in the teeth. He’d used her.
Oh, Good Lord, she couldn’t think with her heart splintering. Who knew she could endure this much pain? Tears streamed down her cheeks. No longer attempting to choke back her sobs, her shoulders shook. She cried in frustration. She cried in regret.
The wasted years. She’d allowed her sister’s situation to define her life. A chain of events had been set into motion without her being aware of the misconstruction of her life choices. She judged every man she met, giving none any benefit of integrity. The male gender had to earn her respect. Each one had to prove his reliability.
She padded to the bathroom and washed her face in cold water. Her sister’s words plagued her mind.
It happened to me, not you.
Why had she gone overboard with her aversion? Why hadn’t her sister been the resentful one? She found happiness with another man. And Carrie tried to destroy that. How bitter she’d become.
She marched to the fridge and pulled a bottle of water from the shelf. Twisting the cap, she ambled back to the couch. The coolness of the plastic felt good against her palm. She placed it against her cheek.
Matthew had given her life new meaning. She’d changed, even if for a short time. She’d been happy. Ecstatic. And look what happened.
Enough.
She was not one to cower. Facing Matthew was the only possible solution.
So why did that put a little twinge in the middle of her heart?
Matthew rubbed his thumb over the wrinkle on the photo of his parents, the printed-paper worn from continuous handling. He’d buried it in the back of his wallet and took it out often when he needed the closeness of his father. Inhaling deep, his chest filled with satisfaction that his father would be proud. He’d fulfilled his promise, the family company would thrive, and he’d provided for his sisters and their families.
The smile on his mother’s face as she looked to her husband told the observer all he needed to know. From her expression and love shining in her eyes, the two obviously had a deep abiding love. Matthew dreamed of a love like that. An unshakeable love. A woman who would love him as fiercely as his mother had loved his father. He folded the picture and replaced it carefully where it belonged.
He leaned back on the cushioned sofa facing the glass balcony doors closed to the outside world. Since Matthew had become a large figure in the big leagues, he’d been fending off women by the dozens. In college, girls enjoyed his lusty behavior as much as he did, which resulted in an imaginary revolving door of non-stop females, and over the years he’d had his share of flings.
Until now.
Until Carrie.
In business, the bigger the challenge the greater the reward. The same principle held with Ca
rrie. And what a reward she would be. If only he could convince her.
Something held her back. And something had happened today. He sensed it in his gut. Her assistant covered her near slip very well. The girl was a true connoisseur. If Brenda didn’t work for Carrie, he’d hire her away. She was just the kind of dedicated, loyal, skilled individual his corporation needed and she was adept at handling people.
He knew Carrie had been in her office. Why had she refused his call?
Matthew stood and paced the room. Maybe he assumed too much. Maybe he’d spoken his feelings too soon. When Ginger showed up at Carrie’s house with her face swollen, his stomach had somersaulted. At that moment, he knew Carrie belonged in his life and no way in hell would anyone take her from him.
Something was up. His reliable gut had never been wrong. He jerked his suit jacket off the corner of a chair, swung it over his shoulder, and slammed the door behind him.
A fist pounded on Carrie’s door causing her to jump. This is ridiculous, she thought. Uncurling her legs, she stood while hooking her hair behind one ear.
When she opened the door, the breath caught in her throat.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
“What are you doing here, Brad?” Her hand still on the knob, she straightened to her full height.
“I came to see you gloat.” He swayed slightly.
“You’ve been drinking.”
“Yes, I’ve been drinking.” A harsh laugh escaped him. “There’s not enough booze in the world to escape what you did to me.”
“What? Fire you,” she said scathingly.
His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared in anger. “You were right. I’ve been blackballed. You’ve destroyed me.”
“No, Brad. You destroyed yourself.” She attempted to slam the door, but he blocked it with his foot.
“Go away, Brad. Or I will call security.”
He put one arm on the door and pushed. She held firm, for a moment. But with his superior strength, he shoved inside. Normally, she could hold her own. But his intoxication mixed with his resentment made her uneasy.
“I’m warning you . . .”
“Warning me?” He shoved the door taking a step forward. “Someone should have warned me about you a long time ago.”
Keeping her eyes on him, she mentally took inventory of her surroundings.
“You cold hearted, blood sucking bitch.” He took another threatening step forcing her back.
Alarmed, she shouted, “Get out!”
“Not before I . . .”
A masculine hand landed on Brad’s shoulder and whirled him around.
“Now.” Matthew’s features resembled the granite on Mt. Rushmore.
Brad sputtered. Matthew gave him no time to speak before hauling him out of her apartment.
The room went out of focus. The sound of her own breathing roared in her ears. The very idea that Brad had forced his way into her home sickened her. Her hand rested over her racing heart. She refused to shake. What a predicament she’d put herself in. She would have to be more careful.
In a matter of moments, Matthew came back. “Are you all right?”
“Of course.” Carrie stepped back avoiding his outstretched hand.
He stared at her a long tense moment before he shrugged and strode to the couch. He dominated the room. Smart in his fine tailored suit and as devastatingly handsome as ever.
“Excuse me a moment,” she managed. Before he could utter a sound she hurried through her bedroom and locked the bathroom door.
Get a grip, Carrie.
Staring into the mirror, a shaken reflection stared back. She gripped the edge of the sink and noted the damage she needed to repair. She splashed cold water on her face, ran a brush through her hair, and decided that would have to do. Now she had to face Matthew.
Preparing for battle, she took sure purposeful steps down the hallway.
Thankfully Matthew sat in the cushioned chair across from the couch. He leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees, glancing up when she came into view. Ever the gentleman, he stood and waited for her to sit.
“When I called your office, you assistant seemed hesitant.” His husky voice attacked every sensitive bone in her body as his eyes bore into hers. “Then I called here and you didn’t answer. Did something happen?”
Plenty.
She squared her shoulders. In her office or meeting with an important client, she’d never lacked courage, and she normally embraced confrontation. This was one exchange she was totally unprepared for.
“Actually, I need to talk to you.” The expression on his face made her hesitate. Damn. He looked so . . . She forced herself to go on. “Something has come to my attention. I had to fire an employee today. He said he gave confidential information to you for money.”
Silence seethed from the hard line of his mouth.
“Want to run that by me again? I’m not sure I heard those words from your lips.” His eyes went blank with a coldness that made her shiver. His lip curled in ridicule.
“You heard them. Imagine my shock when I heard them.”
“It’s apparent to me someone has lost their mind.”
At her continued silence, he said, “I certainly hope you don’t expect me to defend myself.”
“I’m giving you a chance to explain.”
“Explain what?”
“Explain why the man who just left gave me your name as the receiver of confidential information on my clients.”
“The drunk I found threatening you? He’s tanked-up. How can you make sense out of a mad man?”
“He was not inebriated when he told me.”
“You’re joking, right? I don’t know the man. Brenda is the only employee I’m familiar with. The others, the receptionist, the ones I’ve passed on my way to your office, are simply greeted acknowledgements.”
“So you’ve never met Brad Shifflett, an apprentice to Junior Executive with Higgins and Andrews?”
Matthew’s jaw flexed. “I don’t believe I’ve ever had the pleasure,” he said with derision. His eyes narrowed. “However, if you mean the lout I just threw out, maybe I should go find him and ring the truth from his double-dealing neck.”
“So you’re saying he lied? You’ve never met him?” Carrie hated asking, hated that she sounded accusing. But her head had to rule in this instance. Her heart would only complicate things worse.
Matthew rose lithely from his chair. “Surely you do not believe this nonsense.”
“I have a trusted friend who saw you together.”
His expression registered the implication that she did not trust him. He would never know how she suffered from that knowledge as well.
“I do not need some whipping boy to gain access to you or any connection you may have. I go after what I want. And what I wanted was you. I thought you had more faith in me. Apparently I was wrong.”
Blinding pain pierced her center as he marched to the door, but subsided enough for her to assess his leaving.
“Wait.”
With his hand on the doorknob, he hesitated. When he turned, rage mixed with pain filled his eyes.
“For what? I think you’ve made it abundantly clear how you feel.”
The slamming of the door rebounded off the walls of her desolate apartment, echoing through her inconsolable misery.
Chapter 25
Three weeks and not a word from Matthew. Carrie knew she messed up. Her life couldn’t get any worse. Brenda was on her case again. The frown on her partner’s face said more than any words he might have expressed. For the first time ever her career had no significance. Matthew inhibited her mind obstructing serious concentration on matters that needed her attention.
A pipedream.
No matter how hard she tried to fight it, reality smacked her right in the face. She’d lost every bit of dignity. She’d become one of those pathetic women who allowed her life to revolve around a man.
Matthew.
Som
ehow he’d slipped under her defenses and stripped her barriers. In her refusal to accept his importance in her life, she’d managed to destroy the one thing she now knew mattered most. Obliterate any chance of a relationship with a man who challenged and respected her.
Who said he loved her.
She crossed her arms and padded to the open French doors. A light breeze blew the floor length curtain in a wispy dance drawing her onto the wooden deck. Lights from the city glittered like stars in the night. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes while the scent of grass and trees filled her with longing.
Alone. She was so alone.
How had she come to this? How had she let herself get so involved to the point she wallowed in self-pity. She shook at the disgusting notion. A foolish young girl, she’d shunned, laughed at, and made fun of any woman or man falling all over each other. Sappy declarations of adoration, tender touches, and romantic gestures were signs of weakness. Being mad about someone would never happen to her.
She had no idea.
What was that saying, the mighty have fallen?
She’d fallen in love. She was a mess.
He hadn’t even called. But then, what did she expect? She’d lashed out at him. Accused him. Savage blue eyes haunted her still. Even though the evening was warm, a chill raced down her spine.
Sleep eluded her. She’d lost her appetite. When was the last time she smiled?
Her phone rang drawing her attention. Hope flared, for an instant. Then dashed as quickly as it had come. Why get her hopes up to be crushed once again. She thought to ignore the ringing, but the incessant tone urged her to answer. When she could no longer resist, she hurried inside and glanced at the caller ID.
Guinevere.
She pushed the talk button. “Hello.”
“Hello dear. I’m back.”
Something More Page 17
