by Syrie James
He nodded as he shifted the Maserati into high gear and zoomed around slower traffic. “The only way to drive. I’ve managed to get ahold of one of these beauties every time I’ve flown into L.A., but I’m not always so lucky. You should have seen the crate I got stuck with all week in Tulsa.”
When he described the many problems he’d encountered with his rented sedan, from a door that wouldn’t open, to windshield wipers that wouldn’t shut off, he was so comical in his delivery and so good-natured about it all that Desiree’s shoulders shook and her eyes watered with helpless laughter.
A short drive took them to an elegant condominium complex in a lovely, wooded area on the outskirts of town. The Tudor-style brick-and-stucco buildings, enhanced with dark wood trim, seemed to sprout up from the depths of a dense pine forest.
“How beautiful,” Desiree said as she stepped out of his garage and breathed in the heady scent of the surrounding pines. “You’d never know we’re so close to the city.”
“A few more minutes down the freeway, and you’re really in the countryside. You’d love it in winter. You can reach deep snow in practically no time.” He unlocked the heavy, oak front door and led her inside, flipping on light switches ahead of them.
Desiree took a step down into the spacious sunken living room. Her shoes sank into the luxurious, champagne-colored carpet as she looked around her with awe. Books of every size and description and a myriad of art objects filled floor-to-ceiling teak shelves on two sides of the room, along with an elaborate stereo system, speakers, and a large television. Colorful modem prints hung over the long, blue-grey sofa and Danish teak end tables. Track lighting illuminated the room from beams in the vaulted ceiling. There was a brick fireplace, a built-in wet bar, and a long, dark-blue tile counter that passed through into an immaculate, modem kitchen with gleaming wood cabinets.
“It’s wonderful, Kyle.”
He dropped her suitcase by the door, then caught her hand in his. “It is now that you’re here. Come on. Let me show you the rest.” In addition to the living room and kitchen, the condo boasted a study, a cheerfully decorated guest bedroom and bathroom, a large master suite, a laundry room, garage, and a small fenced yard.
“I love it,” Desiree exclaimed as Kyle rested her suitcase on a low table in a corner of the master bedroom. “But I have a confession to make. When you mentioned your house in Seattle, I never imagined a condominium. Somehow I expected to find an enormous mansion on five acres, complete with a circular driveway and an army of servants.”
“A man on his own doesn’t need a big, fancy house to rattle around in. This complex was a far better investment.”
“You own the whole complex?” she asked in surprise, and then laughed. “I should have guessed.”
“After we’re married, it’ll be different. We’ll build the biggest, most elaborate house that money can buy.”
“We will?”
“Yes.” He pulled her into his arms. His mouth traveled up her neck to nibble at the soft skin behind her ear. “We’ll get an architect to design the place to complement all your beautiful old furniture.” His breath was a warm, moist vapor against her ear as his fingers brushed the sides of her breasts, then slipped around to the buttons on the front of her blouse. “We’ll get rid of my modern stuff if you want. Build a huge, formal dining room for your new table.” He opened first one button, then another, punctuating the action with each word he spoke: “We’ll have a music room. Game room. Two offices. Country kitchen. A giant master suite complete with sauna and Jacuzzi bathtub, built around an indoor garden.” He pulled apart the soft fabric and reached around to unsnap her bra. Then, with one hand splayed across the small of her back, he reached around with the other to cup her breast in his hand. “And five additional bedrooms. No, six.”
“Six?”
“One guest room, and one room for each kid.”
She gasped, as much from the effect of his nimble fingers as from his startling declaration. “Five children?”
“Well, that’s negotiable.” He laughed, slid his arms around her bare midriff and hugged her tightly against him. “I enjoyed growing up in a big family, and always wanted one myself.”
Suddenly he drew back slightly, his voice deeply serious. “You do want children, don’t you?”
“Very much. I don’t know about five, but two or three at least.”
He smiled. “As many as you want. And we’ll hire a nanny and a cook to help take care of them while we’re working.”
“Sounds perfect. Almost too perfect. I think I’d be afraid of a life filled with so much...perfection.”
“We can do it, Desiree,” he said softly. “Together, we can do anything.”
They gazed into each other’s eyes for a time, and she felt as if time had crystallized around them, sealing them in a sweet, safe vault, where happiness was guaranteed to those who loved and hoped and worked hard and dreamed the same dreams.
“I always wished I had a twin sister,” she said at last. “My mother used to console me by saying I’d grow up and have twins of my own one day.”
“In that case you’re in luck. Twins run in my family.” His eyes danced mischievously. “And I can’t think of anything I’d enjoy more than making children with you.”
***
“Oh, no. It’s raining.” Desiree looked out the bedroom window the next morning to find a light drizzle falling from a gloomy grey sky.
“A little rain won’t stop us from sightseeing.” Kyle opened his closet and pulled out a pair of jeans. “I’ve got plenty of umbrellas. And I’ll make you a dollar bet it stops by noon.”
She tossed a pair of shorts and a few summer blouses onto a nearby chair as she rummaged through her suitcase for something warmer. Thank goodness she’d decided to pack jeans and a long-sleeved shirt after all. She hadn’t even thought of bringing a raincoat—it was still summer.
“You’re willing to risk a whole dollar?” she said teasingly. “What faith.”
“It’s my father’s favorite saying. Every time he makes a dollar bet on something, he wins.”
“Every time?” Desiree sat down on the edge of the bed to put on her sandals, then changed her mind and pulled on socks and tennis shoes instead. “This I’ve got to see. For a dollar, you’re on.”
By ten, the sky had cleared to a brilliant, cloudless blue. “I told you,” Kyle grinned as they hopped into his car and headed for the wharf.
“I’m a believer,” she replied, laughing. “I can’t wait to meet your father. He sounds like a real character.”
A weekend didn’t leave much time for sightseeing, especially with a family dinner to attend that night and an interview at KXTR the next afternoon, but Kyle seemed determined to squeeze in as many sights as possible in the time allowed.
“Seattle was the last stop for prospectors rushing north to the Klondike in the gold rush of 1898,” he explained as they walked hand in hand through the shops at Pier 70, a nineteenth century wooden steamship pier. They climbed the steep pedestrian staircase to Pike Place Market, a noisy, colorful profusion of sidewalk stalls overflowing with country produce, flowers, and seafood, then walked back down to the waterfront on Alaskan Way.
While Kyle waited for their take-out lunch of shrimp and clams, Desiree ducked inside a shop and ordered a bright green T-shirt for Kyle stamped with the slogan, THIS SHIRT IS GREEN.
“I’ll get you for this,” he laughed when she presented him with the gift. He dragged her to the water’s edge, threatened to dunk her in the harbor, then drew her close against his chest instead. “Take that,” he said, kissing her. “And that. And that.” Despite the public place, despite the streaming fries and seafood growing cold on a nearby bench, the romantic punishment continued for quite some time.
Desiree loved the city. She loved the blending of old and new, the rustic waterfront and charming curiosity shops against the backdrop of modern skyscrapers just blocks away. She loved the crisp, clean air and the tall, green pines
sprouting here and there and the blue, blue sky, more vivid and clear than any sky she’d ever seen. She was fascinated by the native Indian and Eskimo crafts, the folklore and totem poles, the nearness to Alaska, and the woodsy, carefree atmosphere that seemed to pervade the area.
At a curio shop, she bought an Eskimo rock carving of a bear devouring a wiggling fish. “It’s a symbol of strength and power,” she explained as they made their way back to the car. “Perfect for your desk at the office. Which, by the way, is the sight I’d like to see next.”
“Which office? The one at Harrison Engineering in Auburn? Standard Tool and Die in Tacoma? Sparkle Light in St. Louis? Or maybe you’d rather see—”
“Stop showing off! I want to see your main office, in downtown Seattle.”
A few minutes drive along city streets brought them to the tall, high-rise building that housed Harrison Industries headquarters on its top floor.
“I’ve only got a handful of people here to help keep an eye on things,” Kyle explained as he gave her a swift tour of the simple suite of offices. Like his condominium, the furnishings and decor were modern and tasteful, a cheerful splash of color against stark white walls. “The important part of this corporation are the individual companies themselves. They only consult me for an occasional problem or an important negotiation. Mainly, I sit up here and run interference.”
“What a view,” Desiree remarked breathlessly as he led her into his office, a large airy room with a solid wall of windows overlooking the downtown area and Elliot Bay beyond. She stopped beside his wide desk, which was ringed with framed photographs of numerous grinning babies, grade school children, and five stunning young women. “Who are they?” she asked, indicating the women’s pictures with a nod of her head.
“The kids? My nieces and nephews. Or were you referring to all these gorgeous, sexy women?”
She cast him a shrewd look filled with mock suspicion. “Well? Who are they?”
“Jealous?” His arms came around from behind her and he pulled her back against him, adding in a low voice, “They’re my sisters.”
“I figured.”
“So you see, you have nothing to worry about.” His voice became husky as he nuzzled her neck. “But I’m going to have something to worry about if we don’t get out of here in a hurry. Unless you want me to make love to you right here on the floor of my office.”
“We can’t,” she replied softly, reluctantly. “Your parents are expecting us for dinner at six.”
“True. And we don’t want to be—” To her surprise she felt his body stiffen suddenly. His arm flashed out and grabbed a memo slip beside his phone. “This must have come in after I left last night.” He stepped aside, picked up the phone, and rapidly punched a series of numbers. “I’ll just be a minute.”
Desiree moved to the windows to drink in the view while he conducted his phone conversation.
“Rand?” she heard Kyle say behind her. “What time did you get in? How’d things go?”
The sun gleamed on the windows of the city buildings below, which stretched out toward a sparkling blue bay. Wouldn’t I love to have a view like this every day, she thought, instead of the bleak, beige walls of my studio.
“What?” Kyle cried. “You gave up our entire negotiating position. We can’t break even on the contract now.”
Desiree glanced at Kyle in alarm. He was leaning against the desk, one hand gripping the phone to his ear, the other curled into a tight ball at his side.
“Don’t give me that,” he said. “You knew where to call me. And I was back in the office yesterday at noon. Dammit, you gave the thing away!” He barked out a few cutting observations and then slammed down the phone. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” he muttered in her direction, before wheeling toward the door.
Desiree followed, her stomach knotting with anxiety. What had happened? Kyle brushed off her questions and barely spoke or glanced at her as they rode down the elevator and drove back to his condo to change their clothes for dinner. When he’d unlocked the front door and ushered her inside, he finally told her what was wrong.
“Because I left Tulsa early to see you,” he said, stalking across the living room and down the hall, “because I left the negotiations in the hands of a bungling idiot, Standard Tool and Die just lost over a hundred thousand dollars.”
She gasped in dismay. “A hundred thousand dollars! Why?”
Kyle stopped in the doorway of his bedroom and faced her. “The client put the pressure on while I was gone. Rand panicked. He lowered the price and gave away every cent of profit on the contract.”
“Oh, Kyle. I’m so sorry.” She reached out to touch him with a sympathetic gesture, but he broke both hand and eye contact with a swift turn and a deprecating wave of his hand.
“It’s not the money. It’s the principle of the thing. Two hundred people will be busting their butts to meet a deadline, and for what? We won’t make a dime. We don’t need busy work. What a waste.” He strode furiously into the room. “If I’d stayed and finished the job myself...damn! Rand ought to know what he’s doing by now. If you can’t trust your—”
He stumbled, uttering a sharp curse as he bent down to pick up something from the floor. A white leather sandal. Her sandal. He whirled on her, holding the shoe aloft. “Don’t you ever put anything away? You’ve been here less than twenty-four hours and already the place looks like a pigsty.”
His icy glare sent a cold wave of trepidation down her spine. Her eyes darted around the nearly immaculate room for evidence of her misbehavior. Her suitcase and vanity bag stood open on a low table. A few items of her clothing lay on the bed and on a nearby chair. A glass of water sat on the nightstand. Her other sandal lay smack-dab in the middle of the floor. But that was it. Not perfectly in order; hardly a pigsty.
Her temper flared at his unjust accusation. “I’m sorry, Kyle, if I’m not neat enough for you,” she said, her voice clear and even. “In future, I’ll try to—”
His muttered curse silenced her. She winced as he picked up the second sandal, gathered up her scattered clothing, and threw it all into the suitcase.
“We’ve got fifteen minutes to get dressed,” he hurled at her over his shoulder as he banged open the bathroom door. “I’m going to take a shower. Join me if you want.”
“No thank you,” she returned.
“Suit yourself.” He slammed the door.
Desiree sank down onto the bed, heart pounding in pain and fury. Could this really be the same bed where they made slow, luxurious love that very morning? Could this be the same man who’d held her so tenderly in his arms, whispered words of love, and pleaded with her to be his wife?
She knew his anger stemmed not from a misplaced shoe but from the news of his negotiation gone wrong. And that was what hurt the most. If he hadn’t left Tulsa a day early to see her, he’d have finished the negotiations himself and, no doubt, would have gotten the client to give up every penny of that hundred thousand dollars, and more.
She’d made him feel guilty for breaking their weekend date, and he’d ignored his obligations to appease her. If anyone was to blame for his company’s loss, it was she.
She’d told him a long-distance relationship would be fraught with problems. Still, she hadn’t expected anything so serious to happen, so costly, or so soon. Already she’d become a major thorn in his side.
With a heavy sigh, she unbuttoned her blouse, then folded it and the other clothes Kyle had thrown into her suitcase. Taking her outfit for the evening out of Kyle’s closet, she sat back down on the bed and clutched the hangers to her chest.
What timing, she thought. A family dinner. She had to go; it would be rude to back out at this point. But Kyle was barely speaking to her. How on earth would she get through it? Smile, she told herself. Be charming. Ask all the right questions, tell a few jokes, have yourself a great time. Don’t let them see that you’re hurting.
And leave. Tomorrow. On the first plane.
Twelve<
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“You said this was going to be a small family dinner.”
“It is. Just a few close relatives.”
They’d finished dressing with a minimum of conversation and driven to a quiet residential area on the north side of town. She’d tried to tell him again how sorry she was. Sorry about his company’s loss; sorry it had soured things between them. His answer had been a silent shrug. What more could she say?
Kyle parked at the curb near a charming, two-story, red-brick house, and helped Desiree out of the car. She counted seven other vehicles crowding the curb and driveway.
“How many relatives is a few?”
“Count your blessings,” Kyle said in a clipped tone as he headed briskly up the curving, red-brick walkway. “My oldest sister and her four kids moved to Des Moines last year.”
Desiree tried to ignore the irritation rising in her chest and concentrated instead on the heady fragrance of the rose bushes blooming vibrantly on either side of the path. Neat hedges and colorful flower beds surrounded a verdant, green lawn, and she noticed a long wooden swing, similar to the one she had at home, hanging from the porch rafters. The front door stood open behind an aging screen door, and she could hear laughing voices and bustling activity inside.
She readjusted the delicate combs that pulled her hair back on either side of her face. They were handmade and covered with tiny seashells. It seemed hard to believe that Kyle had just bought them for her on their carefree expedition that afternoon. The fluted neckline of her silky, midnight-blue blouse was embroidered in the same color with flowers in a cut-away design, and she wore steel-grey slacks and matching grey pumps. She’d packed the outfit with such high hopes, wanting to make a good impression on Kyle’s parents.
“I hope I look all right,” she said. Not that it mattered.
Kyle stepped up onto the porch without a backward glance. “You look fine.”
