Derek picked up the bag and offered it to her. “From the look of terror on your face, slamming vodka shots is the only thing you want.”
Glancing around to see if everyone was staring at her, Arianne mumbled, Sip the drink. We sip the drink. Don’t slam the drink. Okay, I got that. Then what?”
Trying to relieve some of Arianne’s obvious tension, Derek flashed his best I’m so sexy smile. “We meet people and chat.”
“How about you say I’ve got a terrible case of laryngitis.”
Laughing, Derek helped her remove her coat and handed it to the coat- check girl. After doing the same with his coat, he offered his arm and escorted her deeper into the enemy’s territory.
Chapter Seven
“Derek, darling.” A woman appeared out of nowhere. As she kissed his cheek, she sized up Arianne. “You are looking ruggedly sexy as usual.”
He brushed a kiss across her cheek. “Mrs. Maystorm, you are a married woman, and until you divorce that scoundrel Mr. Maystorm, I’m just going to have to content myself with fantasies.”
She gave his shoulder a playful slap and said, “You are such a wicked young man. And who is this…young lady.” The last two words were a definite afterthought.
“This is Arianne. Arianne, Mrs. Evelyn Maystorm, the lady who arranged this whole affair. Another marvelous feat I should add.”
Arianne smiled and nodded. Mrs. Maystorm edged closer to Derek. “She is charming. A little nervous but charming.”
Derek rested his hand lightly on her shoulder. “Mrs. Maystorm, you are the first person she’s met this evening and you would overwhelm anybody,”
She held Arianne’s hand. “Relax my dear. You are in very capable hands. Oh, Derek, did you know your mother is here?”
Arianne saw a momentary break in Derek’s reserve, but it was immediately masked. “No, I thought she was still down in the islands. She didn’t call to say she was home. Guess I should go say hello.”
“It was a pleasure meeting you, Arianne.” With a charming smile she turned and left.
Derek whispered, “Within five minutes everyone is going to know your name and that I did not include a last name. It is going to drive them crazy trying to figure out who you are. I’m afraid we must go find my mother. If I don’t say hello, I won’t hear the end of it. Sorry, I didn’t know she was going to be here. How are you holding up?”
“Don’t ask. I don’t know whether to pee my pants or throw up.”
Derek threw back his head and laughed. He kissed her cheek. “You’re doing fine. You survived Mrs. Maystorm. The rest is easy.”
“Uh, excuse me. Your mother!”
“Speaking of which.” Derek led her toward the back of a tall woman surrounded by several men. “Excuse me Madame, are these men troubling you? Shall I have them removed?”
She turned and smiled. “You can remove them to my apartment.”
“Mother!” He kissed her cheek. “You are looking tanned and wonderful. When did you get back?”
“Thank-you. Day before yesterday. You are looking a bit pale. Working too hard, I suppose.”
As they chatted, Arianne compared mother and son. Derek was definitely his mother’s son. He was the rugged male version of the pair. Both had a similar smile and eyes. Each carried their height with a majestic air. Although age was beginning to impress itself on Mrs. Davenport, she was still an amazing woman.
Finally shifting her gaze to Arianne, Derek’s mother prompted, “And this lovely young lady is?”
“Arianne. Arianne, my mother Caroline Davenport.”
Caroline held out her hand.
Trying to steady her nerves, Arianne shook it.
“Pleasure to meet you, Arianne…?”
“Derek.” A gentleman standing nearby spoke. “You weren’t at the meeting this afternoon.”
“Unavoidable delay. I’m sure Philip has notes for me. I can make a decision tomorrow.”
He put his arm around Derek’s shoulder and tried to lead him away. “Well, I’d like to talk about the proposal. You know, give you a personal sounding on my opinion.”
“Not tonight.” Derek stepped back to Arianne’s side. He glanced at her and his mother. “At the moment I am with the two most beautiful women here and no one is pulling me away. I refuse to go off and smoke cigars and talk business with a bunch of men when I could spend a much more pleasant evening here.”
“Davenport stubbornness, irritating, but legendary.” His mother smiled.
The lights flickered. “Dinner is ready,” explained Derek. He held out his arm to his mother. “Are you in need of an escort this evening?” He held out his other arm. “Arianne. And to think he wanted me to leave you two women behind.”
Part of the art gallery had been transformed into an intimate dining hall. Derek headed toward a main table.
A waiter snapped to attention. “Mr. Davenport. Follow me, please.” He pulled out a chair for Derek’s mother while Derek held a chair for Arianne. Mrs. Maystorm and her husband joined them. Derek shook Mr. Maystorm’s hand and waited until Mrs. Maystorm sat.
Arianne glanced about the room. On the walls hung fantastic modern expressions of art, alive with colors and depth. Scattered about the room were round tables exquisitely decorated with white linen table clothes, gleaming crystal wine goblets, sparkling silverware and cream-colored china. On the center of each table set a low bouquet of blood-red roses and silver chrysanthemums, surrounding a glowing blue candle.
Seated at the table next to theirs were the Mayor, the Governor, the Vice President and their wives. At strategic points in the room were large men with serious looks on their faces. She could not see the Vice president’s face. His back was turned toward her.
“Would you like to meet him?” whispered Derek.
Wide eyed, Arianne shook her head. “Maybe later.”
Everywhere, waiters and waitresses were seating their guests and filling wine glasses. Another couple joined their table. The chatter among six of the seven people was light and friendly. It wasn’t until well into the main course that silence fell and Derek’s mother asked, “So, Arianne, satisfy everyone’s curiosity and tell us, how did you meet my son?”
Guessing the truth would be inappropriate, Arianne looked to Derek for help. “It’s alright,” laughed Derek. “You can tell them. Although I am afraid they will say it is wonderfully embarrassing.” A meek smile was all she could manage. “I’ll tell it. First off, let me simply state, Mother I broke up with Kelli.” He paused, “I know she was your favorite, but it didn’t work out. I can’t marry someone I can’t trust.”
His mother sighed. “Derek, I will never be a grandmother if you don’t get married. Now, that was a wonderful stall tactic, but tell us how you two met.”
“Only stalling because it is a bit embarrassing. I was on my way to a meeting and realized I’d missed lunch. I stopped at a coffee shop and ordered a sandwich and a latte. Reached in my coat pocket - no wallet. Checked my suit jacket - no wallet. Opened my briefcase. Not my briefcase. Mine was in the limo on its way to the airport then on to Japan. Now, I can’t call the limo because my cell phone is in my briefcase. While I’m puzzling this out the cashier is getting impatient. I had no cash on me. Arianne rescued me and bought my lunch. And she leant me her cell phone and Mr. Hiriotto and I exchanged briefcases via my limo driver. She refused to let me pay her back so I offered to escort her to dinner.”
“And what do you do?” asked Mrs. Maystorm.
“I’m an illustrator. You know, children’s books.”
“What a delightful job. It must pay very well,” said Derek’s mother.
“Claws back in Mother. I bought her the dress to get her to come.”
“You see, I thought he meant go to the gallery and then to dinner. Not have dinner in the gallery. I pretty much panicked when he explained where we were going and who else would be here.” She stared at the back of the Vice President.
Derek leaned over and kissed his mother’s c
heek. “You are a dear and I love you. Nevertheless, I will choose whom I am going to marry and when that day will happen. If I were to choose Arianne, you will be a good mother and accept that.”
Arianne stifled a cough as she almost choked on her wine.
“Do you work for a publishing company?” asked one of the other ladies at the table.
“No, I freelance. It’s risky, but I can choose my own hours and assignments. And it lets me hang around coffee shops rescuing rich people with no money.”
Derek shook his head. “No money, no charge cards, no debit card. Billions in the bank, but I couldn’t afford to purchase a sandwich and a coffee.”
“Remember the time, in the Bahamas, when you lost your wallet.” The conversation turned from focusing on Derek and Arianne to a reminiscing between the Maystorm’s of a long ago honeymoon incident.
As dessert and coffee were being served, the formalities of the evening unfolded. The Mayor, Governor and Vice President were introduced and each said a short speech about the beauty of the gallery and the importance of supporting the arts. Derek was introduced along with the widow of the namesake of the building. Both said a brief speech and cut the ceremonial ribbon thus officially opening the gallery. Everyone was invited to wander around and admire the artwork.
Sensing Arianne’s impatience to see the art and be released from the tension of the dinner party, Derek made his excuses and led Arianne to another room. The walls were covered with watercolor sketches but Arianne did not notice. Derek’s lips covered her face with kisses. His hands slid down her body. “This dress feels like a second skin. You were incredible.”
“I was so scared.”
“And that made you even sexier. I could take you here and now.”
Arianne didn’t know whether to giggle or smile. She smiled. “That would stir things up.”
“Probably get me kicked out of the yacht club.”
Now, she giggled. “You own a yacht.”
Before Derek could answer, several people wandered into the gallery. Arianne and Derek broke apart and pretended to examine the watercolors. From afar they appeared to be charming, simple sketches with soft colors. But upon closer examination the themes were dark and disturbing. Arianne wandered from sketch to sketch then to other rooms lost in the artistry displayed on the walls. Derek followed behind making appropriate responses to her comments, but his attention was not on the art. Whenever he could, he stole a kiss or planted a tender one on the back of her neck.
Looking up from a sculpture, Arianne turned and said, “The detail on this is…oh, you’re not Derek. I’m sorry.”
He held out his hand. “No, I’m not lucky enough to be Derek Davenport. I’m just the Vice President.”
“I’m Arianne.” She forced the words out and shook his hand. “A…a pleasure to meet you…Sir.”
“Pleasure is all mine. Now, what were you going to say about this sculpture?”
Blushing, and deeply wishing that she’d stop, Arianne spoke her views on the art piece before them. In a few moments she found herself engrossed in an artistic conversation with the Vice President and the Mayor, who had joined them. Derek had greeted both, but stood off to the side and let Arianne have this moment.
“Derek.”
He turned to his mother.
“I’m leaving now.”
“Would you like me to escort you to your limo?”
“No thank-you. The Hansons are going to drive me home.” She placed a hand on each cheek and held his face. “Look into my eyes and say her name.”
“Pardon?”
“Look into my eyes and tell me your friend’s name.”
“Arianne.”
She kissed his cheek. “Dinner. Thursday.”
“Royal command?”
“Yes.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.” She stepped into Arianne’s group. “Excuse me for interrupting, but I must be leaving.”
“Caroline, you are never an interruption,” said the Mayor. “We will let you say your good-byes. You will excuse us?” The Mayor and Vice President shook Arianne’s and Derek’s hands and returned to their wives.
Caroline turned to Arianne and extended her hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you. And I must thank-you for rescuing my son.”
“Pleasure is all mine. I’ve had a wonderful time. Best ten ninety-five I ever invested.” They shook hands and Caroline Davenport exited the gallery.
“Your mother doesn’t like me.”
“It’s not that. Want to leave?”
Arianne nodded, relieved the tension of the situation was about to end, sad that her evening with Derek was coming to a close.
After saying his goodbyes, Derek led her to the coat check room. “Mother’s suspicious of you. Like Taylor is of me. To her, I’m still eight-year-old Derek.” He held her coat for her then pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “Front door. ASAP.” He put his coat on, started walking to the door then paused. “Uh, would it be better if you took a cab home?”
Arianne shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t understand.”
“If I have my driver take you home, I’ll know where you live. I thought you might like to keep that private.”
“No, I think you and Taylor should meet. It would make his whole day. Then maybe he would trust you a bit more.”
“You sure?” The car pulled up and stopped. Derek opened the door before the chauffeur could exit.
“I met…no change that, I survived your mother. You can meet my roommate. How do I tell him where to go?”
Derek pointed to the intercom button.
“Hello? Could you please drive us to 625 Makin? It is three blocks south of Eighteenth Street. It’s an apartment building on the corner.” She settled back into the soft seat. “I had a wonderful time. It was like Cinderella going to the ball.”
“I’m surprised. I thought you’d be bored to tears.”
“No, it was all new and wonderful. And your mother is beautiful. You look very much like her. Were you bored looking at the art? I seemed to have rambled on for hours.”
“It was fun watching you. There is no pretense with you. You see something you like your whole being says so. Your face lights up and you talk faster. When you disliked a picture, you brushed it off with a shrug of your shoulders and a scowl on your face.”
“And you kept stealing kisses.” Arianne playfully shook her finger at him. “How was I supposed to concentrate with you nibbling on the back of my neck?”
“Which brings up a question I was meaning to ask. Why did you want me to kiss you this afternoon?”
“This afternoon,” reminisced Arianne, “it seems so far away. The words just came out of my mouth. It was an urge that overwhelmed me. But now, I think it was because there was a connection missing between us.”
Derek edged closer then put his hand on the back of her neck. “I love right there.” His fingertips slid up and down the back of her neck. Shivers raced through Arianne’s body. “Your hair is perfect. I spent half the night fantasizing about nibbling on your neck.”
“And the rest of the night fantasizing about nibbling on the rest of me?”
“God, yes!” His mouth reached hers. When the limousine parked in front of Arianne’s apartment, they separated with a gasp. “I can’t get enough of you.” His eyes were dark and smoldering. The intensity of his stare triggered something indefinable in her. She wanted nothing more than to submit to the will of those eyes.
“Um, we’re here.” Her hand fumbled for the door.
Derek sighed then followed Arianne into the building and up four flights of stairs. “Ever hear of the word elevator?”
“Figure it’s my cardio workout every time I come home. It may not be as big or as elegant as yours but this is home.” She put her key into the door marked 4C and turned it. Swinging the door open, she stepped inside. Derek followed.
Her roommate was seated on the couch watching the television. Derek walked over and held out his hand.
“Hi, Derek Davenport. I take it you’re Taylor?” Taylor jumped up and shook Derek’s hand. “Arianne figured we should meet and get to know one and other so you’d begin to trust me.”
Arianne undid her coat and hung it up in the closet then offered to take Derek’s.
He shook his head.
“What can I get you Derek? A beer?” She headed toward the kitchen.
“Love one, but I have a board meeting at nine. A coffee would be great.”
“Take the beer,” advised Taylor. “Her coffee is horrendous.”
“I’ll have a beer,” Derek yelled over his shoulder.
Arianne popped her head back into the living room. “Taylor, you didn’t tell him my coffee was bad.”
“Derek and I have to establish some form of trust and if I were to let him drink that black sludge you make—a better idea. I’ll make the coffee.” Taylor shooed Arianne out of the kitchen. Soon the sounds of coffee cups being taken from the dishwasher could be heard.
“Do you want the grand tour?” asked Arianne, relinquishing the kitchen to Taylor.
“I’ve only got a couple of hours,” said Derek.
“I think I can manage to fit it in. This is the living room. There’s where we eat. That’s the kitchen. My room. Taylor’s room. Bathroom. There that’s the whole thing. I didn’t even get a tour at your place.”
“Poor host. Forgive me.”
She looked down at herself. “Guess I should get changed out of this dress. Excuse me.”
Derek collapsed on the worn couch, untied his bow tie, popped the buttons on his vest and opened the top of his shirt.
“Comfy?” asked Taylor as he handed him a cup of coffee.
“Yes. Thanks. Mmm. This is good.”
With a small grin on his face, Taylor said, “Considerably less gut wrenching than Arianne’s.”
“I heard that.” Having changed into a pair of baggy pajama bottoms covered in kittens and bunnies with an oversized blue sweatshirt, Arianne plopped down in a chair across from Derek. She had released the French braid. Her hair hung about her shoulders. “Here’s the dress and shoes.” She looked at Taylor. “It’s a Vera Wang.”
A Kept Woman Page 6
