“Brandon’s humor is a world apart,” Cameron said.
“True enough,” she said. Again she stared at each of the men, no doubt in search of the real story, then homed in on Brandon, clearly the weak link in this scenario. “So why don’t you explain to me just how funny I am?”
Brandon exchanged glances with his brothers, then shrugged. “Guess it had to come out sometime.”
“Ball’s in your corner, dude,” Cameron said, then stood. “I think this calls for more beers. Mom, you want something?”
“Chicken,” Adam muttered under his breath.
“Got that right,” Cameron said with a grin. “I can’t watch.”
“I’d better have a glass of white wine,” Sally said, but didn’t take her eyes off Brandon, who was starting to squirm.
“Coming right up,” Cameron said, whistling as he left the room.
“Now, what in the world are you talking about?” Sally said. “What’s going on?”
Brandon squeezed her hand patiently. “Mom, we know you arranged the whole thing.”
“What whole thing?”
“With Trish.” He shrugged again. “And Adam. We know Marjorie helped. We know the whole story.”
She cocked her head and stared at him in complete befuddlement. Adam’s stomach was beginning to sink. His mother wasn’t that good an actress.
Cameron walked back in and handed her a glass of pale, straw-colored wine.
“Thanks, sweetie,” she said, smiling up at him. “I think I’m going to need it.”
“No problemo,” he said, and quickly moved out of his mother’s line of sight.
She took a sip of wine, placed the glass on the side table, then cast a meaningful glance at Adam. “Can you explain what Brandon’s talking about?”
Adam frowned as whispers of worry fluttered inside him and couldn’t be stopped. Had he been wrong? Was his mother really not playing games? Impossible. He blew out a tired breath and said, “Trish is the woman Marjorie hired to be my assistant.”
“What happened to Cheryl?”
Brandon chuckled. “Oh, you’re good, Mom.”
“Cheryl got pregnant and quit,” Adam explained.
“Oh!” Sally said, clapping her hands. “Well, that’s wonderful. I should send her a gift.”
“Mom, focus,” Brandon said, sitting forward. “We know you arranged for Trish to work for Adam.”
She blinked. “I did what?”
“We know you’re trying to set him up with women. You know, so he’ll get married and have children and you’ll have grandchildren and-” Brandon waved his arms around. “You know, blah, blah, blah.”
“Ah.” Sally’s eyes narrowed. “Blah, blah, blah. Yes. Well, it’s true I want grandchildren, but I’m not sure…well, tell me again how I arranged for-what was her name?”
“Trish,” Brandon said. His patience was wearing thin.
“Right, Trish.” Sally looked contemplative. “Tell me again how I arranged to get her into Adam’s office.”
Brandon cast an anxious glance at his brothers, not saying aloud what he was so obviously thinking. Could their mother’s memory be slipping? Adam almost laughed out loud. He had no such doubts. Sally Duke was smart as a whip. She was pulling Brandon’s chain. He shouldn’t be enjoying the show, considering it was his ass on the line, but he just couldn’t help himself.
“Remember, Mom?” Cameron spoke slowly. “Marjorie arranged it for you. She got Trish in there.”
“Of course.” Sally nodded. “Marjorie’s a good friend.”
“Exactly,” Brandon said. “So you’re not denying you set the whole thing up?”
“Why would I?” Sally asked. “It sounds like a very clever plan.”
“We wouldn’t expect anything less, Mom,” Cameron said.
“Thank you, sweetie,” Sally said, then glanced over at Adam with a sparkle in her eye. “All this talk of women and plans and setups reminds me, Adam. Have you gone out with Brenda yet?”
Alarmed now, Adam stood. “Who’s Brenda?”
“Yeah, who’s Brenda?” Brandon asked.
Sally sat back on the couch, seemingly enjoying herself. “Brenda is Geraldine Sharkey’s doctor’s daughter.”
“Geraldine?” Cameron said, as he leaned against the back of the leather chair. “Your friend from the hospital guild?”
“Yes,” she said, beaming at Cameron, pleased that he’d remembered. “We play canasta together now. She wanted to introduce Dr. Brisbane’s daughter to some nice men, so I gave her Adam’s office phone number.”
“Oh, crap.” Adam glowered. The mysterious Brenda. She was the one his mom had set him up with? But that would mean… “She didn’t call. She just showed up.”
“But, Mom,” Brandon asked cautiously, “why would you send Brenda when you’ve already got Trish working for Adam?”
Sally started to answer him, then stopped. “What does Brenda have to do with Adam’s assistant?”
“Very funny,” Adam said, and started to pace the floor of the den. “Look, Trish is working for me and I’m happy with her. I don’t want any more setups, so you can call off your dogs. Send Brenda somewhere else.”
“Is she hot?” Brandon asked hopefully.
Cameron burst into laughter and Adam just shook his head.
Sally pushed herself off the couch and met Adam halfway across the room. She wound her arm through his and said softly, “Adam, you must know I had nothing to do with getting this woman a job in your office.”
“I know that now, Mom,” Adam said, leading her on a slow walk across the room.
He believed her. Which meant Trish was innocent. She hadn’t been stalking him or playing him or lying to him. And Adam had treated her badly. Dammit, she’d been a virgin. He didn’t like the guilt that had reared up inside him. He didn’t like knowing he’d been wrong. And he didn’t like admitting that he wanted Trish anyway. Wanted her now even more than he had before.
“It sounds as if you like her,” Sally said cautiously.
“Don’t get your hopes up,” he warned.
She smiled up at him. “Honey, I always have my hopes up as far as you’re concerned. And you’ve never let me down.”
He let out a sigh. How could a man argue with the woman who’d given him everything? Even her meddling was a gift, he thought, because without Sally Duke in his life, he’d never have known what love was. “Thanks, Mom. You’ve never let me down, either.”
“Oh, sweetie, you’re going to make me cry.” She wrapped her arms around him in a big hug and Adam felt like a complete ass. He wasn’t about to tell her how badly he’d treated Trish. How he’d seduced a completely innocent woman. Innocent in every way.
Later, as he drove home from his mother’s house on the cliff, he thought about how he’d sweet-talked Trish, flown her off to Fantasy Mountain and plied her with champagne. The following day, she’d given herself to him. In his office. On the couch. And various other places.
He should’ve been disgusted with himself, but the memory of taking her on his conference room table caused him to harden instantly and he wanted her all over again.
He had thought Trish was a gold digger, a willing accomplice in his mother’s half-baked plan, anxious to get a piece of his hefty bank account. But she wasn’t who he thought she was. She was the real deal. To complicate his predicament, he liked her. A lot.
“Dammit,” he said, pounding his fist on the steering wheel. He would find a way to make it up to her. He would take her out, treat her like a princess. He would explain his mother’s mistake in sending Brenda to the office. Then he would make love with Trish all night long. All week long. Hell, all month long.
He knew it wouldn’t last between them. It couldn’t. Adam didn’t do forever. He would eventually let her go, but until that moment came, they could enjoy each other to the max.
Nine
Trish was losing ground.
It had been almost two weeks since that fateful evening when th
e elegant Brenda had shown up with her perfect hair and perfect shoes and ruined Trish’s weekend.
But by Monday, Trish knew she had to thank the woman for opening her eyes to reality. She had no business dreaming of Adam Duke when he was the one responsible for all the unhappy turns her life had taken. From that day on, Trish had been on a campaign to find something, anything the least bit incriminating that she could use against Adam. So far there was nothing, but she’d vowed not to give up.
Meanwhile Adam had sworn that it was his mother who had tried to set him up with the voluptuous Brenda. And Trish believed him. Adam had explained that his mother wanted him and his brothers to settle down, so she had resorted to sending every woman she came across their way in hopes that one of them might lure the men into marriage. And that was never going to happen, Adam assured Trish.
Trish had laughed along with him when he described his mother’s tenaciousness, and she accepted his apology, not that he needed to apologize. But since he was offering, she was willing to forgive him.
But she refused to forget.
Trish opened a file drawer and returned two folders to their rightful place, then pulled the file cart over to the next drawer. Adam was out of the office and Trish was all caught up with her work, so she was using this time to re-examine the client files in the hope that she’d missed something important the first time.
But her mind kept going back to Adam’s apology about his mother’s matchmaking efforts and his cold insistence that he would never marry. It’s not as if Trish were looking for someone to tie the knot with, least of all Adam Duke, but it made her sad that he’d grown up to be so contemptuous of marriage.
And yet, despite his cynicism, he had been nothing but thoughtful and attentive to Trish in the two weeks since that fateful night. She’d tried but couldn’t dismiss the memory of his arms wrapped around her. Every time she thought of his heated gaze, her insides twisted into curlicues.
For two weeks Adam had been relentless in his campaign to soften her up, weaken her resolve and change her mind. He’d been inventive and sexy and sweet, and Trish’s resolve was slipping fast. He was fighting dirty, captivating her with his charm and consideration. Just when she thought she had a handle on her emotions and could withstand his latest salvo, he would slip through her defenses.
On Tuesday, he’d placed a single white rose on her desk and said it reminded him of her own unique style and beauty. Then he’d kissed her gently and she’d practically dissolved in his arms.
Trish buried her head in her hands. She had to be strong. She had to fight, not just for herself but for her grandmother and all the people who really mattered to her. And she was fighting, she thought, as she flipped open another client file and studied the lease agreement.
But every time Adam came near her, she was betrayed by her own body. Closing the client file, she sighed. Perhaps it was time to accept defeat. She just plain wanted him.
Oh, she knew it couldn’t last. He was clearly not the type of man to settle down, get married and raise a family. Not with her, anyway. Not with the shopkeeper’s granddaughter. Even with her MBA, she knew she wasn’t the type of woman Adam Duke would ultimately marry-if he ever married at all. He would marry someone sophisticated and worldly, someone with whom he could travel the world. Trish’s feet were firmly planted on solid ground. She wanted to live here forever. Sure, she’d love to travel someday, but it wasn’t as important to her as home and family were.
And someday, she vowed, she would have a home and a family, but for now, none of that mattered.
For now, for today, Adam wanted her. And she wanted him. So for as long as it lasted, Trish would savor his desire to be with her. She wouldn’t dwell on the future. She would live in the present, enjoy the moment and hope that her time with Adam Duke would provide enough lovely, exciting memories to keep her warm for a lifetime.
It had been one hellish day. Trish felt like a limp string of spaghetti, beaten and boiled and flung against the wall. She’d done nothing all day but put out fires and quell skirmishes that had been threatening to become full-scale wars. She’d definitely earned her paycheck and that was always a good feeling. It was just too bad she was way too tired to enjoy herself.
Once Adam had left the office for a dinner meeting with a visiting developer, Trish had dragged herself over to the file cabinets where she’d taken the time to go through a few more file drawers. Despite her overwhelming attraction to Adam, she was absolutely duty-bound to do something for Grandma Anna and her Village neighbors. So she continued her search for a scrap of something, anything she might be able to give to the local press, some story they could dig into in hopes of embarrassing Adam. It didn’t have to bring down his entire company anymore. She just wanted to find something that would bring closure to the pain her family and friends had gone through. She owed it to them.
But tonight she simply didn’t have the energy to scour the files. Her heart wasn’t in it, even if her conscience nagged at her. She compromised between heart and conscience and worked diligently for almost an hour, going through and checking each file, before getting discouraged and calling it a day.
Knowing she had nothing at home in the way of dinner, Trish pulled into the local grocery store on her way home and parked. Before getting out of her car, she buttoned her coat because the nights were getting colder now. As she locked her car, she could see her breath in the air, and it reminded her of that cold night out on the balcony at Fantasy Mountain.
She shivered, remembering that it was out there on that balcony that Adam had first kissed her.
They would be going back to Fantasy Mountain in two weeks for the grand opening. Adam had promised that the two of them would go up two days early and take advantage of the spa and any activities they wanted to enjoy. There was only one activity she could think of, and that was making love for hours with Adam in that beautiful room with the luxurious, fantasy bed.
With that image in her head, she almost floated across the parking lot. As she reached the door, an older man bumped into her and she grabbed him before he could fall.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “Are you hurt?”
“Nah, I’m okay,” the man said.
Trish did a double take. “Sam? Sam Sutter?”
“Trish?” Sam said, then laughed as she wrapped him in a bear hug. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
“Oh, Sam, I’ve missed you so much.”
His laugh turned to a cough that grew stronger and more deep-throated until he was doubled over.
“My goodness, Sam, are you all right?” Trish thumped his back, not sure what else to do. “Let’s get inside.”
Sam Sutter was an old friend of Grandma Anna’s. He’d owned the bike shop in the Victorian Village, two doors down from Anna’s Attic. His shop used to rent bikes and paddleboards and roller skates to the tourists who walked to the beach along Sea Cove Lane. Sam had given Trish her first bicycle and taught her how to ride it. Every bike she’d ever owned had come from Sam’s shop.
Her old neighbor looked as though he’d aged ten years in the last few months since she’d seen him. She hoped it was just the cold that had him looking so worn down.
Sam stood up straight, the coughing jag over, but Trish could still hear him wheezing.
“Sam, you don’t sound good at all,” she said as she grabbed a cart and led him down the dairy aisle.
“No kidding,” he said, blowing his nose with a linen handkerchief he’d pulled from his coat pocket. “I caught one of those winter colds and I think it’s turning into bronchitis.”
She placed a carton of milk in the cart, then threaded her arm through his as they walked down the next aisle. “You need to get to the doctor.”
“I know, honey, but I just can’t afford a doctor these days. I’ll buy some cough syrup and aspirin. That’ll have to do me for now.”
“Did you get a flu shot this year?”
“Not yet, but I’ll try to work it into my bus
y schedule.” He grinned at her. “You’re a sweetheart, Trish.”
“Oh, Sam, I miss you,” Trish said, and squeezed his arm.
“I miss you, too, honey,” Sam said with a chuckle. “We had some good times back in the day. That reminds me, I ran into Bert Lindsay the other day.”
Bert and his wife, Tommie had operated an upscale hair salon and beauty supply store in the Village.
“How are they doing?” she asked, as she maneuvered the cart around the corner and down the next aisle.
“Tommie’s arthritis has been bugging her, but she’s got a good attitude.”
“I’ll try to stop by and see them next week.”
“You know they’d love to see you,” he said.
“I would love that, too.”
Sam waited while Trish picked out the best-looking zucchini she could find, then he said, “Bert tells me you’re working for Duke.”
Trish sucked in a breath, then exhaled carefully. “Yes, I am.”
“I knew you’d find a way to get to him. You were always a smart girl.” Then his eyes narrowed. “It’s probably not very generous of me to say this, but I hope you come across something we can use to get his nose in a twist.”
Guilt pooled inside her and sent hundreds of tiny ripples of shame out to every cell in her body. Here was one of her dearest friends, beaten down and destroyed by Adam Duke and all Trish could say was, “Oh, Sam, I’m not sure I can do that.”
He touched her shoulder in understanding. “That’s okay, honey. We all just appreciate that you’d care enough to try.”
“I-I promise I’ll do what I can.”
They wandered over to the cold remedies aisle and Sam found aspirin and a box of extra-strength cough syrup. “Whatever you do, honey, I know it won’t bring the Village back. But it would be nice if Adam Duke just had an inkling that what he did to us was wrong.”
“That would be nice,” Trish said halfheartedly, then wanted to crawl into a box. She could barely look Sam in the eye, knowing she’d betrayed them all by becoming romantically involved with Adam. What would they do if they knew the truth? They were all such sweet people, they’d probably forgive her. She just wasn’t sure if she could forgive herself.
The Millionaire Meets His Match Page 11
