Open Invitation

by Tiffany White

Amanda dropped into a nearby chair. “I would have told you, you know, if I had decided to take the job. In fact, you were part of the consideration, part of why I didn’t take their offer,” she added hastily, trying to make amends.

  Noah rose from his desk and walked over to the window. Looking out, he said, “If you had come to me as Kyle did, I would have told you what I told him. I’m leaving KCNX in June.”

  “You’re quitting?” Amanda exclaimed in surprise.

  “I’m taking a year off,” Noah said, turning with a smile. “It was my wife’s idea. She knows how much I love the river, and she’s talked me into buying a yacht. We’re going to take off and cruise the waterways for a year. She thinks it’s time I stopped to smell the roses, so to speak.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how I got so lucky to find a woman like her,” he said with a dazed smile. The smile of a man deeply in love.

  “But Noah, that’s wonderful!” Amanda cried, thinking it would be time well spent getting rid of his ulcer and restoring his health.

  Noah nodded and returned to his desk. “Why didn’t you take the offer from Westec?”

  “It came at the wrong time in my life.” She shrugged. “Or so I thought. Six months or a year later, I probably would have taken it.”

  “And if Kyle takes it?”

  “I’m going to die,” she said, her lips quivering as she tried to hold back the tears.

  “I’d hoped…” Noah began, then trailed off. He sighed. “I did warn you about him.”

  “I know.” Amanda sniffed.

  “Yeah.” Noah nodded, his voice husky. “He has a way of getting past one’s reservations. Something about the boy…”

  The phone on Noah’s desk buzzed. He grabbed the receiver. “Yeah?…I’ll take it,” he said, punching up another line. “Kyle,” Noah mouthed to Amanda, swiveling in his chair.

  Amanda rose from her chair, meaning to give Noah some privacy.

  “You did, huh?” Noah’s words stopped her in mid-stride. “I see. Well, congratulations. I’ll see you when you get back, then.”

  Noah swiveled around to drop the earpiece in its cradle. He looked over at Amanda.

  “Well?”

  “He said he wanted to talk to you himself.”

  “Noah…”

  “He took it.”

  BY THAT NIGHT, the tissues in her pantry were long gone, but her tears weren’t She was reduced to using toilet tissue to dab her red, swollen eyes. She sat on the love seat, pretending to be invisible, wrapped in an old chenille robe that had never pretended to be stylish. In fact, it would look better on a bed, and the fuzzy slippers she wore on her feet would be better under a bed…way under.

  Wiping her red nose again, she winced at its tenderness. Her once bouncy curls moved droopily. Even her nails were a wreck; she’d been nervously picking the nail polish off them all day. She was a fine mess and proud of it. She was suffering in grand style. She looked down at her robe. Well, maybe style wasn’t quite the right word.

  She didn’t even get up to answer the doorbell when

  it rang. Whoever it was would go away eventually, she hoped as she stared at the door.

  As she watched, an envelope fell to the floor from the mail slot in the door.

  Puzzled, the untucked her feet from beneath her and slowly got up to retrieve it. When she picked it up, her doorbell rang again. And again, before she could open the envelope.

  Responding to the insistent appeal, she jerked open the door. “You!”

  Kyle stood before her with an armful of white roses and a hopeful smile.

  His eyes swept over her disheveled appearance, taking in her old robe and the crumpled tissues in her hand. “Oh, were you expecting someone else?” he asked, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners.

  “I certainly wasn’t expecting you!” she snapped, moving to slam the door in his face.

  Kyle wedged his foot in the way, managing to thwart her effort to shut him out.

  “I want you to leave,” she demanded, sheer willpower alone keeping her tears at bay.

  “No, you don’t.”

  Amanda burst into tears. No, that was the awful part. She didn’t want him to leave.

  “What’s all this?” he coaxed, pulling her into his arms and shoving the door closed with a backward kick.

  “I turned down Westec’s offer…so…so we could…and then you…” she sobbed.

  “It’s okay, baby,” he said, rubbing his thumbs beneath her eyes to clear away her tears. “Look, I brought you roses,” he said, handing them to her like some kind of peace offering.

  Amanda brushed the roses away, scattering them to the floor. “I don’t want your roses. I don’t want anything from you. You took the offer from Westec after I turned it down to give us a chance together.”

  Kyle cocked his hip to one side and raised his fingertips to rest on his hips. “Of course I took the job. I’d be crazy not to. But I took it on the condition that Westec hire you as my cohost”

  “You—you did?” she stammered. “You mean—”

  “Don’t you know by now that we’re a team?” he asked, looking at her incredulously. “Don’t you know I love you?”

  Amanda hesitated, afraid to believe what he was telling her.

  Kyle nodded to the envelope still in her hand. “If you’re waiting for an engraved invitation…”

  Amanda looked down at the envelope and then up at Kyle.

  He nodded again.

  She ripped open the envelope and pulled out the engraved card inside.

  Amanda, love

  Will you marry me? I promise to love, honor and ravish you.

  Love always,

  Kyle

  Amanda’s eyes started leaking again, only this time they were tears of happiness as she flew into Kyle’s waiting embrace.

  After a few moments, Kyle pulled back and looked down at her. “I take it that’s a yes?”

  Amanda nodded, still too choked up to speak.

  Taking her hand, Kyle slipped a square-cut emerald engagement ring onto her wedding finger. “Under the light, it has the same fire as your eyes when we make love,” he said, pulling her into his embrace once again to seal their betrothal with a passionate kiss.

  When they came up for air, Amanda’s eyes sparkled with happiness as she looked down at the engagement ring and then up at her new fiancé.

  “I love you, Kyle Fox,” she said, her voice full of wonder.

  “And I love you,” Kyle said, looking deep into her eyes.

  EPILOGUE

  AMANDA ENTERED the bedroom to start getting ready for her night on the town with Kyle to celebrate their wedding anniversary. She heard the shower running in the adjoining bath, and a smile of mischief lifted her lips. She was about to sneak in and join Kyle when her eye caught sight of the envelope on her pillow.

  She reached for it with a knowing smile.

  Stretching out across the bed, she pulled the pages of yellow legal paper from the envelope, Kyle’s bold scrawl seducing her.

  Amanda,

  I thought you understood that as president of my own television syndicate, I’m a very important and powerful man, not to be trifled with. I’m a man used to having my wishes obeyed. And still you aren’t ironing my shirts.

  What’s that? You refuse? Are you quite sure you want to do that?

  You are? Then come to my office. I shall have to deal with you.

  Come in, come in. Have a seat. I’ll just be a moment while I tell my secretary to hold all my calls for the next hour.

  Okay, now. Where were we? Oh yes, you were disobeying my wishes, weren’t you? Do you really think that’s wise?

  You don’t care, you’re not ironing my shirts, no matter what? Hmm….I see.

  Do you see this necktie I’m undoing? Come here. No, turn around. That’s it. Now put your hands together behind you.

  There now, did I tie it too tight? You’re not going to answer me, hu
h? Well, I’ll be happy to untie them as soon as you decide you want to stop being so obstinate.

  So, you’re going to remain being stubborn, then?

  Whew, is it hot in here? Do you feel warm? I do. I think I’ll take off my jacket. There, that’s much better. Maybe it’s the sunlight coming in through the window that’s making it so warm. I think I’ll just close the blinds.

  Gosh, that made it kind of dark, didn’t it? I know, my desk lamp ought to be just about right. Okay, now come over here and sit on my knee. Careful. There, yes, that’s it.

  Now, do you see my shirt? It’s a high-grade cotton with French cuffs and an English spread collar. I like a little starch in the collar, but I like the rest to be soft against my skin.

  Here, let me take it off and rub it over your cheek so you can feel what I mean.

  What are you staring at? Haven’t you ever seen a man’s bare chest before? Oh, I see. Not one like mine. Well, I do work out to keep in shape. I’ve been told women like a washboard belly. Is that why you’re staring there?

  If you were to promise you’d iron my shirts, I could untie your hands and you could touch me. I’d let you feel my hard muscles ripple beneath your fingertips.

  How about it? Promise to iron my shirts?

  No!

  Okay. It’s completely up to you, of course. I wouldn’t want you to do anything you didn’t want to do.

  See this? Looks pretty hard, huh? Not a bad bicep for someone who wears a suit all week, is it?

  Tell you what. Let me help you up here on my desk.

  Comfortable? No, I can’t untie your hands until you decide you want to iron my shirts. Maybe with a little encouragement, huh? What do you think?

  Here, let me slide your high heels off and give you a foot massage. That’s it. Set your foot right here on my lap. Feel that? It’s not my bicep, is it?

  Umm…maybe I could iron my own shirts… How about if I untie your hands? Do you think you could convince me that I’d rather send my shirts to the cleaner’s and have you do something else for me with your time?

  You do? Oh, well, in that case… There. It’s done. Let me rub your wrists. I didn’t have it tied too tight, did I? Good.

  Wait a minute. What are you doing? Aren’t you worried you’ll wrinkle your blouse, throwing it on the floor like that?

  You don’t care? Well, okay.

  Uh…your stockings, too? And your garter belt…. Amanda, you’re not wearing panties!

  You know? Dear me. Uh…what’s that? You want me to come there? You mean you want to…on the desk!

  Well, I guess… Do you think? Really?

  Amanda! That’s my telephone receiver!

  I’m coming, I’m coming. Put it down.

  Just let me get my pants off…and my shoes. Oh God, Amanda, you drive me crazy….

  Amanda smiled as she slipped the yellow legal pages back into the envelope and slid it under her pillow. Later she’d put it in the stack she kept tied with a ribbon in the locked drawer of her desk.

  Looking up, she saw Kyle enter the room, a towel slung low on his lean hips.

  “You’re incorrigible, you know,” she said, kneeling up on the bed and reaching for the towel anchored at his waist.

  “Not me.” Kyle grinned. “You must be thinking of my evil twin, Lyle.”

  “Oh yes, Lyle,” Amanda said, pulling him down onto the bed. “I was thinking about paying Lyle a little visit at his office tomorrow afternoon…say around threeish?”

  “Umm, I guess that means I’m never going to get my shirts ironed?”

  “Are you complaining?” She giggled as her mouth did wicked things.

  “No ma’am….” Kyle answered, his words a strangled reply.

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