Just the Man She Needs

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Just the Man She Needs Page 12

by Gwynne Forster


  “Who says we’re intimate?”

  “I do. You’ve had just about enough time to cross over that bridge. The two of you were headed for it the night you met, and he didn’t get where he is today by dragging his feet. If he succeeds, having him as a boss could become a problem for both of you. My last word on the subject—for now.”

  “I’m not answering this phone again,” she said. But she remembered that Ashton had her cell phone number, dug into her handbag for the phone and answered. “Felicia Parker speaking.”

  “This is Ray. I just got news that John Underwood is making a bid for Skate newspapers. Get some details, and put a paragraph on it in your column for tomorrow.”

  “Ray, I’ve already written my column, and that news doesn’t fit it. Give the story to another reporter.”

  “Underwood is news right now because you made him and his company news, so you should be the one to keep the public’s interest going.”

  “That’s worth three lines, Ray. Tomorrow’s column is on political issues, as you know, because you’ve read it. Where does this fit in?”

  “Okay. I got the message. Make it a first paragraph, three italicized lines. How’s that?”

  “You’re the boss.”

  She phoned Ashton and told him about the rumor. “I’m bringing it up now, because I don’t want to talk business during our dinner.”

  “Perhaps we can talk about it after dinner. We can sit on the Lincoln Center Plaza, have an aperitif or some coffee and we’ll talk then.”

  He hadn’t denied it, and it seemed that he wanted her to hear his views on the matter before she wrote a story about it. She felt like a kitten tripping over hot coals.

  Felicia dressed in an avocado-green dress and jacket of silk crepe. Ashton liked her in red, but she had a feeling that red would send the wrong message that night.

  He rang her doorbell at precisely seven o’clock, and she relaxed at his boyish smile and eager kiss. Maybe the evening would be all that she hoped for.

  She gasped as they entered Palms Restaurant, a haven for lovers. Candles provided its only light, palms gave it a garden atmosphere and bouquets of roses adorned each table.

  “Oh, Ashton,” she said. “If I had imagined you were bringing me to such a place, I really would have worn something red. It’s beautiful.”

  “I’ve wanted to come here for a long while, ever since my secretary gave me a picture of the place. I hope the food matches the décor.”

  A red dress wouldn’t have matched the pale yellow tablecloth, napkins, candles and roses, so her choice of avocado-green had been a good one. They placed their order, and almost immediately a man at nearby table got up and walked over to them. Ashton rose, stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets and stared at the man, who pointedly ignored him.

  “Miss Parker, I never dreamed I’d see you here tonight. I don’t know whether you’ve heard, but I’m reading at the 92nd Street Y Sunday afternoon.”

  “I’ve heard,” she said, doing her best to smile. “If you’ll excuse me…”

  “Yes, of course,” the man said, and dropped a business card on the table. She didn’t look at Ashton, for she knew he couldn’t help but be displeased.

  Ashton sat down, and when he remained quiet for a minute, she knew that he was waiting for his irritation to dissipate. “What does your editor want you to say about my attempt to purchase Skate?”

  “I thought we were going to discuss this after dinner. I’m not working now,” she said, smiling to make light of her remark.

  “No? You couldn’t prove it by me.”

  She was about to answer when a woman whose popularity had long ebbed rushed to the table. “I wasn’t sure it was you, Ms. Parker, but the maître d’ assured me it was. Could you please sign this, and would you mention that you saw me here with Bill Schubert, producer of Fly Away Baby?”

  “Miss Pickett,” she said, not bothering to hide her anger, “you’re disrupting my dinner engagement.”

  “But you’re powerful, and I need the publicity.” Realizing that the woman was about to create a scene, she signed the card. “Please excuse me.”

  Shock reverberated through her when Ashton stood and said, “Would you please leave here before I have you removed?” The woman gasped and rolled her eyes, but she hustled away.

  “I’m sorry, Ashton. I didn’t think this could happen way up here.”

  Ashton made no attempt to hide his annoyance. “I suppose you’d have had a line if we’d been in Manhattan.”

  “I couldn’t help it, Ashton.”

  “I know that, and that’s the problem.” With those words, the joy she’d felt when she’d enter the restaurant drained out of her, and she wanted to leave. But to suggest it would have put an even heavier damper on their evening together. He signaled for the maître d’. “Ms. Parker does not wish to be disturbed by any patrons, so please do not identify her to anyone.”

  “Yes, of course, sir. I’m extremely sorry, sir,” the man said, genuflecting as he spoke.

  She barely tasted what was probably a delicious meal, for her thoughts dwelled on the emotional distance between them. No one would have imagined that on the previous night they confessed to love each other and made love for the first time, spine-tingling love. Both declined dessert, a signal that the evening had disappointed them. She had already judged Ashton to be a private person, conservative for a man of his age, stature and wealth, and she knew that the evening’s events had impaired their future relations. I can’t help it. It’s who I am.

  “Are we going have that aperitif in the Lincoln Center Plaza?” she asked him as he drove toward Manhattan.

  He flexed his shoulder in a careless shrug. “Print whatever you think is fair.”

  From the route he took, she could see that Lincoln Center was not in his plans. “You’d better tell me something,” she said, annoyed that he should blame her for the bad manners of two publicity-seekers. “If you don’t, I’ll tell my editor that you wouldn’t discuss it with me, so he should assign the story to another reporter. If Blaine Phillips gets it, you’ll be sorry. Forgive me, I should watch my tongue. If you do acquire Skate, you’ll be my boss.”

  “You’re angry, and I can imagine why, Felicia, but I can’t help the way I feel right now. I know it wasn’t your fault, but it’s a fact of your life, and I don’t know whether I can handle it.”

  “I’m a journalist, Ashton, a public person, and you knew that from the beginning, but if it’s too much for you, let’s break it off right now. I only wish to hell you’d come to this conclusion before you rocked me out of my senses last night. That’s the cruel part of it.”

  He parked in front of her address and cut the motor. “Do you think I’m happy? I haven’t said I wanted to break it off, but I know myself. That guy behaved as if I wasn’t there, and by the time I cooled off, that foolish woman showed up and began to create a scene. If there had been a third one, I know I would have been ready to knock him down.”

  “But I thought you smiled at that man.”

  “When I’m angry, that smile is a reflex. It doesn’t have a damned thing to do with the way I feel at the moment.”

  “Is it always a reflex?” she asked him, trying to soften the moment.

  “No, it isn’t, and you already know the difference.”

  “Where does this leave us? I’m in limbo, and if you force me to dig my way out of this without your help, we probably won’t see each other again. I’m not good at crawling, Ashton. My knees don’t even know how to bend. I love you, but I’m damned if I’ll suck up. It isn’t in me.”

  He leaned back and stretched his right arm across the back of the seat, though he didn’t touch her. “My granddad said he’d like to be around if the two of us came to loggerheads. He’s a wise man.”

  “How did that come up?”

  “I told him that I was putting some distance between us and you were letting me do it. He knows that two plus two equals four.” A half smile crossed his
face, and he turned to look at her. “I was so happy with you last night. The whole day today was a blast of sunshine after years of frost.”

  Without warning, he gathered her to him and held her. “I don’t like to think that I’m self-centered, but I work hard at creating a normal life for myself and for Teddy. I avoid bars, nightclubs and high-society things. I’ve avoided the hostesses who are always looking for an unattached, eligible man for their dinner parties. That’s not the kind of life I want. Some good music and the smell of hamburgers or hot dogs roasting in my backyard and Teddy enjoying it with me have been the joys of my life since I left Rose Hill, Maryland. I could enjoy that even more with you, but I’m not convinced that it suits you at all.”

  She thought for a long time before answering him. In spite of his success as an entrepreneur, Ashton Underwood had not become enamored with his importance. Wrapped in his arms, she knew she belonged with him, just as she’d known it the night before when he was buried deep inside of her. “I can’t give up my work, Ashton. If I did, I would be unbearable. Oh, I could change the way I do it…at least for a while, but—”

  He interrupted her. “You mean, if you were starting a family?”

  “Yes. I’d work at home, but at the appropriate time I’d be back on the beat.”

  “If you had a family, would you still regard yourself as a journalist first?”

  He was fishing for answers without asking a direct question, but she wouldn’t be clever about it. She wanted him to know precisely where she stood, because after tonight, they would either go forward or split permanently.

  “If I had a family, I would see myself first as a child of God, as I do now, and then as a wife, mother, journalist, sister, friend and colleague, in that order.”

  “Did you enjoy the attention of those publicity-seekers tonight?”

  She attempted to move out of his arms, but he wouldn’t release her. “That couldn’t be a serious question. If I did, I’d be guilty of extremely bad manners. I was annoyed, because I knew what your reaction would be. I would have been displeased if I’d been alone.”

  “All right. It wasn’t a fair question.” He got out of the car, walked around and opened the door for her with his key.

  “You left the lock on so I couldn’t get out,” she said. As they waited for the elevator, she told him, “Be careful how you leave me tonight.”

  His left eyebrow shot up. “I don’t know how to take that. If I could suit myself, I wouldn’t leave you.”

  If she could suit herself, she wouldn’t let him leave her. But she didn’t intend to allow them to solve their problems by making love. Give that man an inch, and he’d send her right out of her mind.

  He held her hand as they walked down the long corridor to her apartment. “I think we should say good-night here,” she told him.

  “For the way I want to kiss you, I need some privacy.”

  She had no shame about handing him her key and letting him know that she welcomed the feeling that being in his arms would give her. He opened the door, walked into the apartment with her in his arms and flicked his tongue across her lips, demanding entry. She clung to him while he possessed her.

  “I know it won’t be easy for us,” he said after catching his breath, “but I can’t let you go.”

  She leaned against the opposite wall, away from him. “If you’re going to be halfhearted about us, Ashton, let’s agree to drop it. I couldn’t stand the torture. And remember that no matter what you decide, I’ll know the truth by the way in which you behave.”

  “Was I halfhearted a minute ago?”

  “Lord, no! Honey, what about Skate?”

  “It’s true, but I’m not publicizing it. In a couple of days, it should be a done deal.”

  “In that case, there’s no problem. It will be a couple of days before another of our reporters will have time to file a story. I’ll tell Ray that I can’t do it, but unless he pushes me, I won’t tell him until late tomorrow. Good luck with it.”

  He stood there looking down at her, not speaking, and she wondered at his thoughts. Finally he closed the space between them and, with his arms tight around her, he spread kisses over her face and seared her lips with his own. “Good night, sweetheart.”

  She closed the door. Yes, he loved her, but he had misgivings, and for the first time, so did she.

  Chapter 6

  Ashton didn’t rest well that night. After he left Felicia, it hit him forcibly that he hadn’t merely fallen in love with her, but that he’d fallen deeply and had, subconsciously, considered his relationship with her to have the possibility of permanence. Making love with her had sealed it, for he had never before known the total completeness that he experienced with her. Previously, what mattered most in lovemaking was the sexual relief, but with her, it was the loving, the giving and receiving, the revelation of who and what he was as a man. In the disregard of himself, he had found heaven in her. And after the way she held him and kissed him a few hours earlier, he knew that she’d be the same woman every time they made love. Oh, she would own his heart, but he had some power over hers. If only she didn’t come with that self-seeking entourage!

  Sleeping fitfully enabled him easily to arise early the next morning, and eight o’clock found him in his office. He phoned Cade. “How’s it going, brother?” he asked when Cade answered. “Don’t you think that quote you gave Felicia could cause problems?”

  “Nah,” Cade said breezily and self-assured. “My spies never mislead me. Smith is in for trouble. Still, I think we’d better increase our shares of Dream. Granddad said he’s going to do that, and we ought to urge Damon to do the same.”

  “I’ve already done it, and I think I’ll have my secretary check on Smith’s shares and any recent activity.”

  Ashton flexed his knee and eased his right trouser leg to prevent his trousers from creasing. He could be as casual in dress as the next man, but when he faced business associates, he looked his role. “It’s the way to go, Cade, but if we’re going to buy large blocks, we ought to do it now. When it comes to money, Smith’s a savvy man.”

  “I’ll tell Damon what we’re doing,” Cade said. “By the way, how are things with you and that long-stemmed beauty?”

  “Felicia and I are fine. Stop pestering me about her.”

  Cade’s laugh had the ring of triumph. “When I spoke with her this morning, she indicated that you left her last night feeling good, man. Way to go.”

  “You imagined that.”

  “Whatever you say. Incidentally, the tack arrived this morning, and the grooms are sorting it out and putting it in order. Granddad hired another instructor, and man, she’s da bomb.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me,” Ashton said. “Granddad knows a leg when he sees one.”

  “Tell me about it. As soon as we modernize this riding school, I want us to get to work on Underwood Systems.”

  “Anything wrong?”

  “On the contrary. It’s beginning to explode, and I’m wondering if we should move the operation from Frederick to Baltimore.”

  “It’s a thought, but you’re right. We modernize one company at a time. Excuse me a minute.” He pushed the intercom button.

  “Attorney Hayes on line three, Mr. Underwood.”

  He opened the line. “Underwood. What do you have for me?”

  “We’ve done it. Underwood Enterprises now owns Skate newspapers, and we got the deal on our terms. You’re the CEO, and you call all the shots. It seems old man Skate is not well. His only child, a daughter, is an addict, and his wife isn’t up to being the chief operating officer, so the deal excludes them. You own it lock, stock, and barrel.”

  “You’ve done a great job. I’m extremely pleased. Did you hear any of that?” he asked Cade, who had remained on the line.

  “Some of it. We own Skate?”

  “Right. We and we alone. Hayes will send a note on it to you, Damon and Granddad. Now, if we can just hold back Barber-Smith, we can concentrate on building o
ur businesses.”

  “Ashton, relax. I am not worried about Barber-Smith. Smith is an old fool, and Barber has no business acumen and leaves business matters to Smith, who’s his brother-in-law. Let’s increase our shares of Dream by the end of tomorrow. And you work on your girl. She’s choice, man.”

  He didn’t need anybody to remind him of that. If only some way could be found to remove the problems attending her celebrity. He couldn’t and wouldn’t even consider asking her to choose another writing genre. That was her profession, and she had worked hard to earn the recognition that she received. But, by damn, he had to provide a stable environment for his son. If the three of them went to a restaurant…he didn’t want to think of what would happen.

  “But I love her, and I have to deal with it.”

  Felicia faced another, and equally compelling, dilemma, and in that connection, she phoned a colleague, Duke Jackson, financial columnist and editor of the paper’s business section. “Duke, this is Felicia. Would you clear something up for me, please?” She gave him the information available to her on the proposed takeover of Dream. “You know I’m following that story. Underwood wouldn’t tell me what he’s doing to ward off the takeover, so I’m left with skimpy coverage.”

  “My Lord, Felicia. The man would be stupid to give you that information. Smith would clobber him less than twenty-four hours after the paper came out. In that game, surprise is what matters.”

  “Thanks, Duke. I’ll stop pressing. I definitely do not want to be a nuisance, because I have a feeling that this story has barely begun. Thanks.”

  “My pleasure.”

  She’d heard rumors that the Underwoods were buying stock in Dream, the perfect opener for her column, but if that was Ashton’s weapon against Barber-Smith, she couldn’t wreck his plan by publishing it. For the first time in her career as a journalist, she deliberately sat on a piece of news.

  “I can’t help it,” she said to herself. “I’m not going to write anything that will adversely affect his business. Besides,” she rationalized, “only the rich care about the buying and selling of stocks, and my refusal to use this information definitely won’t hurt them.”

 

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