by Donna Hill
“This is your concept.”
“Yes, but you made it real. You can sell it.”
She knew she could. There was no doubt in her mind. This was what she’d come to do and she would. “Fine. Not a problem.” She pushed back from her seat and stood. “What time?”
“The five-fifty from Penn Station. We should get in about ten.”
Alexis nodded. “Should I meet you... Where?”
“The car will pick us up from the apartment at four-thirty.”
“I’ll be ready.”
“Good.” He turned away.
She felt as if she’d been suddenly tossed off a tall building. Without his gaze to anchor her she had the sensation of free-falling.
Chapter 7
Alexis hadn’t traveled on Amtrak in a number of years. She’d forgotten how much she enjoyed it. It was like taking a mini-adventure. This time, however, the adventure included traveling with a handsome, too-sexy-for-his-own-good man.
As promised, Michael was out front with the car at four-thirty. He strolled over to her and took her bag.
“Good to see you again, Ms. Montgomery.”
“Same here, Michael. Is Mr. Stone in the car?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He opened the door for her.
At least this time he didn’t have the upper hand of surprise. She got in. Graham was on the phone. He nodded in acknowledgment and continued his conversation. Alexis settled herself against the leather.
This car was a Lincoln and not a limo. She had to sit next to Graham instead of across from him. She didn’t know if that was better or worse.
She kept herself distracted with checking email on her phone and pretending that the short sparks of electricity that were snapping between them like a summer lightning storm didn’t exist.
“Michael should have us to Penn Station in no time,” Graham said.
Drawn by the sound of his voice her gaze traveled up from his thighs, settling for a moment at his midsection, up to his mouth, and darting away to settle on his eyes that were cinched at the corners as if he was trying to peer through her.
She ran her tongue slowly across the bottom lip. His dark eyes flashed for an instant.
“It’s barely been a week and I’m already on my first trip.”
“The first of many when this proposal gets accepted.”
“You sound very confident.”
“I have every reason to be.” His gaze moved over her face. “You did an amazing job. Tomorrow you will convince the Secretary.”
Her expression brightened. “Yes. I will.”
* * *
The train ride was better than the trips she remembered. Maybe it was the Northeast Corridor route, and the fact that it was early evening and the sun was lowering itself over the horizon casting an orange glow across the picturesque landscape that went from towering office buildings and sprawling bridges to smaller towns and shimmering lakes. Or perhaps it was the fact that she was traveling business class for the first time with leg room and a private dining car. Or maybe it was being in the company of Graham. He was utterly entertaining and observant and knowledgeable about everyone and everything from sports to politics to religion, to literature and reality television. He had her in stitches talking about the Kardasians and the British equivalent the Bennings.
This was a different Graham Stone. He was relaxed, animated. The intensity and control that he exhibited in the office was gone. She liked this version of him, too.
They had a light meal on the train—cheeseburgers and beer. He promised the next meal they shared would be in a “proper restaurant with proper waiters and good wine.”
She laughed. Next time. She wouldn’t read anything into that. He was only being polite. But she could easily imagine herself sitting at a circular table with white linen and low lights sharing a bottle of wine with Graham.
The nearly four-hour Acela train ride was as much a trip from north to south—crossing the Mason-Dixon Line—as it was an educational excursion into the inner workings of her boss, crossing an invisible line in their relationship.
* * *
They exited at Union Station in Washington, D.C., and stepped out into the balmy spring night. The scent of cherry blossoms blended with the engine exhaust. They joined the line for taxis and inched along until it was their turn. The driver got out of the red cab and put their bags in the trunk.
“Where to?”
“The Capitol Marriott. E Street SW.”
The cab pulled away from the curb and zipped in and out of the Downtown traffic. Friday night in D.C. was like Friday night in any metropolitan city across the country—busy, lights, cars and bodies. But there was a special rarefied air in D.C. The iconic silhouettes of the Lincoln Memorial, the Capitol building and, of course, the White House gave D.C. the gravitas that no other American city could claim.
They pulled up to the hotel. Graham paid the driver and the bellhop brought their bags inside.
“Graham Stone,” he said with that James Bond cool that was such a total turn-on. He should have his own theme music, she thought and giggled inside.
“And you should also have a reservation in the name of Alexis Montgomery.”
“Yes, sir.” The clerk printed out the room information, swiped his credit card and gave him two sets of room key cards. “You’ll both be on the tenth floor, Mr. Stone. Rooms 1012 and 1014.”
“Thank you.”
“You need help with your luggage?”
Graham looked at Alexis. She shook her head, no. She only had her small overnight bag that she managed to fill with four days worth of clothes. She pulled it behind her as they walked to the bank of elevators.
They exited on the tenth floor and walked down the carpeted hallway to their rooms that faced each other.
Graham inserted the key card in the slot of Alexis’s door. The green light flashed. He turned the handle, stepped in first and turned on the light. He took a quick look around the one bedroom suite, opened closets, the bathroom and checked that the phones were working.
Alexis didn’t know if she should be flattered that he was being so gallant, or insulted by his presumptuousness to walk into her room uninvited.
“Rest well. If you want to join me for breakfast, I should be down at the hotel dining room by nine-thirty.”
“Thank you.”
He turned, crossed the room and left.
Alexis walked behind him and locked the door. She moved back to the center of the room and took in the suite in a slow circle.
She had a full-size, contemporarily furnished living room, an efficiency kitchen, bath with a Jacuzzi tub, a separate bedroom complete with a king-size bed and a terrace.
Graham certainly didn’t do anything halfway, she mused as she began to strip out of her clothes. She unpacked her toiletries and hung up her clothes in the closet. With every step she took another wave of exhaustion flowed through her. To be on the safe side she called the front desk and asked for a wake-up call for eight.
As she slipped beneath the cool, crisp sheets and sleep began to overtake her, the last clear thought was about sitting at a breakfast table across from Graham. If not a candlelit dinner, breakfast would have to do.
* * *
Graham was up by six, down in the hotel gym by six-thirty. He worked out for more than an hour trying to burn off the jumpy energy that had him running his mouth like a horny teenager on the train ride down and kept him up half the night. He wanted to believe that it was the upcoming meeting. He knew better. It wasn’t. It was Alexis.
More than once he picked up the phone to call her room. It was only the fact that he was holding on to the fraying threads of common sense that kept him from unraveling their business relationship and dialing her room. Messy. That’s all it could be. But t
he part of him that ached to have her didn’t give a damn about messy. He wiped the sweat from his face and draped the towel around his neck.
Would she meet him for breakfast? He stabbed the button for the elevator. The doors swooshed open and Alexis stepped out.
“Oh,” she squeaked. Totally taken aback. The doors closed behind her.
He wiped his face again, to cover his delight and his surprise. “Good morning. Had I known that you wanted to use the gym I would have buzzed you and we could have worked out together.”
His T-shirt was damp and clinging to his broad chest. His gym shorts hung low on his hips. Perspiration trickled down her spine and she hadn’t even set foot in the gym yet. What did he say?
Graham tipped his head to the side and looked down at her. She blinked. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Fine.” She smiled brightly. “I’m sorry. For a minute I thought I might have...left my room key.”
“Oh, yes, you’ll need it to use the equipment.”
Her throat was terribly dry. “So you’re all done.”
“Early riser. Seems we have quite a few things in common—basketball, education and physical activity.”
She coughed. “And I guess I’d better catch up.”
“I’ll let you get to it. Breakfast, later?”
“Sure. See you then.”
He gave her a short nod and stepped onto the elevator.
* * *
“How was your workout?” he asked as he finished his cup of coffee.
“Good. I always feel better after running or being in the gym. Gets the juices flowing.” Oh damn, she shouldn’t have said that.
He cut into his stack of buttermilk pancakes. “I totally agree.” He looked across at her from beneath long silken lashes.
Her stomach flipped then settled. Handling men was as second nature to Alexis as breathing. She was good at it. Damned good at it. She didn’t let a man, no matter who he was, get into her head and start stirring up feelings. She’d been down that road and she didn’t like it one bit. But this man, he was something else. He was different. He’d somehow gotten into her head. He’d stirred up feelings. And she wanted him like she’d never wanted another man. She wanted him with a hunger that was ravenous. But he was her boss. It didn’t matter what she wanted.
“Have you met with the Secretary before?” she asked, needing to turn her thoughts into a more appropriate direction.
He nodded while he chewed and swallowed. “We’ve met at several events here in D.C. But this will be my first formal meeting with her.”
Miranda Velasquez was the first Latina to hold the position. It was believed, in private circles, that because of her background she would have the empathy that was needed to push through changes needed to overhaul the education system and policies that affected inner-city and low-income students. She was tough but fair, having served as a judge in the New York City courts for ten years.
“Oh, so you brought me as back up,” she teased.
He chuckled. “Absolutely.”
* * *
Alexis took her time getting dressed. She’d selected a teal-blue two-piece skirt suit that was both fashionable and professional. The cut was perfect and she always loved how it fit. The hug of the jacket at the waist, then the soft flare that played a halo around her hips was the highlight of the suit’s design.
She checked that she had her iPad and phone. She placed them all in a leather tote that matched her suit. She checked her makeup, added her compact and lipstick into her tote along with her wallet and room key. Took one last look around, did a mental check of everything that she needed and then walked out.
* * *
Graham was waiting for her in the lobby and did a double take when he saw her walking toward him. His chest tightened. He slowly stood as she approached. She was stunning. The color was incredible on her. She turned heads and he had the irrational urge to tell those lascivious eyes to back the hell off. She was his. His jaw clenched. She wasn’t his and he would have to remember that they were on their way to an important business meeting and not a date.
“Hi. Ready?” She smiled up at him.
“Yes. We can grab a cab out front,” he said, his British cool running hot and thick.
She gave him a curious glance. “Are you all right? No last-minute nerves?”
“Not at all.” He held the door open for her.
The doorman hailed them a cab.
“Four hundred Maryland Avenue SW,” he said through the window. He pulled open the door and helped Alexis into her seat. He got in behind her and stayed close to the window. He needed to get his head in the game.
Alexis adjusted herself in her seat and her skirt inched up. Graham tore his gaze away and stared straight ahead.
* * *
They arrived within moments to the building that housed the offices of the Secretary of Education and after signing in, having their IDs checked and their body and possessions scanned, they were admitted and escorted to Secretary Velasquez’s office.
After waiting for only a few moments at reception, they were taken into the private conference room. Secretary Velasquez and her under secretary joined them as well as her chief of staff. Following introductions and handshakes, Graham wasted no time in outlining his plan that had the potential to revolutionize the classroom and give inner-city kids the boost that it needed.
The Secretary nodded while Graham spoke and everyone took notes.
“That is the basis of the proposal, Madam Secretary. I’d like to turn over the rest of the presentation to my VP, Ms. Montgomery.”
“Thank you.” Alexis gave Graham a short nod and the spark in her eyes telegraphed how pleased she was with his delivery. “What I’d like to do now is to present a visual of the program in action—Innovate to Educate.”
* * *
A half hour later the presentation came to a close. The room was momentarily silent.
“You already have agreements with your local DOE and these vendors?”
“Yes,” Alexis responded.
“And those are only the ones that we have signed on for the pilot,” Graham added.
Velasquez nodded. She leaned over and whispered something to the under secretary. “I like it, Graham. I can’t guarantee that we can get it passed on a national level with legislation. There are so many squeaky wheels on this wagon. And the partisanship in Congress has pretty much brought everything to a halt.”
“I know, I know,” Graham said on a breath. “All across the country public education is under siege, disproportionately effecting urban schools and children of color. You would think that partisanship could be put aside for the good of our children and the country.”
“You’re preaching to the choir, Graham,” she said. “I think the plan is brilliant. It’s a no-brainer. But turning it into legislation is an entirely different battle.”
“What are the next steps?”
“You have your meeting tomorrow with the education subcommittee. Convince them and it will get you a step closer.”
Graham nodded. Velasquez stood. The meeting was over. Graham came around the table to shake her hand. “Thank you for your time, Miranda,” he said in an intimate voice.
She covered his hand with both of hers. “Whatever I can do to help, you know I will.”
“I appreciate that.”
Alexis approached. Miranda released Graham’s hand and extended hers to Alexis. “It was a pleasure to meet you. The presentation is a winner.”
“Thank you. I’m honored to meet you.”
“My staff will keep me posted,” she said to Graham. “You know my line is always open for you if you run into any snags.” She turned and her entourage followed her out.
Graham faced Alexis and wanted to hug her. Instead he
beamed a smile. “You were great.”
“I had great material to work with.”
He chuckled. “Why don’t we take this mutual admiration society out of here.”
* * *
“You want to go back to the hotel, or do a bit of the tourist thing?” Graham asked once they were outside.
“Did you have some place in mind?”
He slid his hand into his pant pocket, pulled out his cell phone and touched the screen a few times. “We’re not far from Constitution Gardens.” He glanced up from the info on his screen and was rocked again when their gazes connected.
She gave a playful shrug. “Sure. They have food?” She grinned. “I’m starved.”
“I think we can do something about that. This way,” he added, placing a hand at the small of her back.
* * *
During a lunch of grilled salmon and a mixed green salad they talked about their meeting with the Secretary.
“I think it went off without a hitch,” Graham said. “Thanks to you.”
“It’s a great concept, Graham. The world needs to know about it.”
He chuckled. “That’s why I have you,” he said in a tone that reached down and gently stroked her.
She lifted her water glass to her lips and took a long swallow to cool the flame that flared inside. “So...who do you think is going to win the NBA finals?”
His eyes cinched at the corners as he smiled, then launched into his predicitions.
* * *
By the time they returned to the hotel it was nearly five and Alexis was officially tired.
“I think I’m going to take a nap,” she said, stifling a yawn when they reached the elevator.
“Sounds like a plan.”
The doors opened. They stepped on.
“Speaking of plans, what would you like to do for dinner? Hotel or perhaps somewhere else?”
Her pulse skipped. “The hotel is fine.”
“All right then. Seven-thirty?”
“Seven-thirty.”
He walked her to her room.
“Are you going to check for the boogeyman again?” she teased.
