If only she knew what Lori, her therapist, might say. But, she didn’t trust her instincts to know which side Lori might take. And she’d been unable to squeeze in an emergency appointment today because of the bar re-opening. This self-doubt wasn’t good. She hated it, and for the last year she’d thought she’d finally started to overcome it. Of course, she hadn’t been on the verge of making any life-altering decisions for the last year and the weight of what she was about to decide now burdened her as if the entire world had just landed on her shoulders.
Doubt plagued her to the point where she could hardly concentrate on supervising the preparations for the upcoming night. She needed to talk to Maggie, she finally decided. She needed to get some good advice about what direction to take with her life, or at least confirm the direction in which she was leaning. And Maggie was the next best thing to Lori.
As she approached Maggie’s office, she heard voices coming from inside. She slowed her step. She hadn’t seen anyone head upstairs, but then, she’d been busy in the kitchen going over the night’s menu with the chef. She held her hand up to the door, but didn’t knock. She recognized the voice inside. Rod Skinner. He was in Maggie’s office with her. She hadn’t seen Rod come in. What was he doing here?
She leaned closer to the door so she could hear more clearly what was being said. Rod told Maggie she was beautiful. Sounded just like he had on their two dates.
Then Tracy heard him kiss Maggie, and heard Maggie slap him in return. He’d kissed Maggie without her permission. Tracy knew it as surely as she knew she was standing there. Rage welled up inside her. She remembered the way Rod had tried sliding his hand up her dress during their second date. She wanted to go punch him. She took off before the urge got the better of her and she did just that.
As she scooted down the stairs, she heard Maggie’s office door open and moments later, close. Quickly, she ducked back into the kitchen, letting the double doors clang shut behind her. It was strange, but she actually felt an unexpected calm settle over her. The difference between the two men who’d recently sought her attention couldn’t be more obvious. Henry was gentle and sweet and charming. And Rod was a cocky, womanizing creep. Better packaged than her ex, and maybe not a violent drunk, but still a creep. Rod would have been another mistake in her life. And she hadn’t made it. She’d chosen Henry instead, and she couldn’t be happier. For once in her life, she’d made the right choice.
“Hey, Tracy,” Chef Brian called out. He stood over by the cooler, helping the line cooks peel and de-vein shrimp. “You don’t need to stress about the food. We’ve got everything under control.”
He finished his words off with a wink, which Tracy returned. “Thanks, Brian. Good to know I can count on you.” And she could count on Henry, too.
The kitchen was loud and so filled with activity that energy buzzed in the air. Waiters and waitresses ran back and forth, carrying out trays of clean glasses and bins of ice to stock the bar and silverware and napkins to set the tables. Dishwashers cleaned pots and pans as they were dirtied. Three women busied themselves making salads. And everybody was talking to everyone else all at the same time.
Tracy waited for a few minutes, forcing her concentration back to the preparations for tonight’s party. She found a stack of paper doilies set down on one of the serving trays near the door and began placing them over top of the silver hors d’oeuvre trays.
She waited until she was sure Maggie had Rod thoroughly ejected from the premises. If she ran into the pig on his way out, the temptation to give him his second slap of the day might prove too great to resist, and she had no desire to be caught up in anymore of the man’s drama. What she really wanted was to get caught up in a nice, romantic drama of her own. A Henry drama. The thought of him brought a new dreamy quality to her day. Everything was going to be all right with him. She just knew it.
Glancing around the kitchen once more, she confirmed everything was running like clockwork and slipped out the back door. The ocean was to her right and the parking lot was to her left. She could see Rod’s silver Porsche was already gone. Good, she thought. With any luck, he wouldn’t be back causing any more trouble tonight.
She pulled some change from the back pocket of her jeans, and fed it into the pay phone. It had been her idea to have the phone installed outside, because it would be quieter than in the kitchen. A lot of people had been surprised it even mattered. Pay phones were pretty much considered a relic nowadays. But then, most people, had cell phones. She still didn’t. She used the pay phone quite a lot.
She dialed the number Henry had given her and listened to it ring three times before he answered. “Hi,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound too forward. “This is, uh, Tracy. I’ve got everything going well at the bar, so I thought I’d see if you still wanted to talk to me.”
“Yes, of course. I mean, that is, if you’re free.”
Her heart skipped a beat. He sounded excited. The eager sound of his voice inflated her schoolgirl euphoria even further. “I was just on my way back to my house,” she said. And the kids will be at school for two more hours. “I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes if you want to meet me.”
“I’ll be there. Looking forward to it.”
Tracy hung up the phone, pleased with herself. Self-esteem could give a person power they never knew they had.
Chapter 49
Andy Clarke sat alone in his massive king-size bed. He had last week’s newspaper unfolded across his lap, reading Elise Chambers’ obituary one more time. Dear, sweet, Elise. She’d never known when to keep her damn mouth shut.
No details had been given on her death in the paper. Just stated the names of her surviving relatives, when and where funeral services were being held, and requested donations be sent to the Humane Society.
He’d read her autopsy report though. Paid good money for it, too. And he knew what the official cause of death was listed as suicide. An overdose of valium.
She had it coming, too, he thought, and tossed the paper onto the floor. Another lover bites the dust. Time to move on. That was, after all, why God had put so damn many women in the world. When one started driving him too crazy, he could always move on to the next.
Right now, however, there was one particular woman who was being a thorn in his side, and not so easily removed. And it was high time he took steps toward dealing with her properly. Andy opened the top drawer of his bedside table and took out the manila envelope Patrice Tyler had given him, and dialed Maggie McKenzie’s phone number. He launched into his pre-planned speech as soon as he got her on the phone. “It’s Andy Clarke, Maggie. I have a proposition for you.”
She groaned. “No, Andy. Unlike Regina Mance, I don’t do older men.”
Rude bitch sure had her nerve. He saw now why Taralynn had been against the idea of trying to make Maggie an ally. Still, he tapped the envelope on his lap. She might be stubborn and smart-mouthed, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have her price. “Maggie, I’m going to do you a favor and not get involved in witticisms with you.”
“Now I’m relieved. What do you want?”
Her blatant sarcasm irritated him, but he continued on. “I’m going to give you the chance to get a premium price on your stock, over and above the official tender price I’m going to pay when my takeover of Ty-Ken is completed.”
“I’m touched. And whatever would move you to such generosity?”
He paused for a minute and listened to her soft breathing over the phone. It was almost four o’clock in the afternoon, and he pictured her hard at work at her bar, preparing to re-open now that she’d managed to somehow get rid of the evidence DeSantis had planted. Oh yes, he had no doubt she’d had something to do with the evidence disappearing. And it just proved she wasn’t as sanitary as she liked to make out. “I told you, Maggie, I’m not going to get involved in word games. Even though you are ill-tempered and thoroughly disrespectful, I’m still willing to take your social standing into account and work with you.”
He drew in a deep breath. “No. But you will be.” He tapped the envelope faster on his leg. “You see, my dear, I happen to be holding a list of Ty-Ken’s shareholders as we speak. And I’ve already made arrangements to buy out almost a third of them.”
His words were met by silence, except for the curse he heard Maggie utter under her breath. Now he had the little bitch’s attention. And he actually did have deals on over ten percent of the stock, too. “That’s right, dear. You think about that.”
“You’re lying,” she shot back. Contempt laced her words.
He just laughed. “No, honey. I’m afraid I’m not.”
“I’m not your honey, Mr. Clarke. Or your dear. Or your anything else. Why don’t you save those bullshit endearments for naïve teen-agers?”
“Now look.” He’d had just about enough of her lip. “I’m quite finished being nice with you. You either agree to sell me your shares of Ty-Ken stock by tomorrow afternoon, or you’ll get the same damn, watered-down price I’m paying everyone else.”
“Hmmm. Watered down?” Her tone was icy. “I’ll be sure and pass that information along to the person preparing the fairness opinion for your bid.”
Damn his slip of the tongue. She’d gotten his temper up. “Pass along whatever you want, dear. As long as my bid’s above current market value, it’ll be considered fair.”
“The word fair isn’t in your vocabulary.” She spoke angrily. “And if you did manage to somehow get your hands on a highly confidential shareholder list, I’d sure like to know how. The word “break-in” doesn’t by chance strike a nerve, does it?”
Andy twisted his hands into fists to keep from screaming. “I’ve never set foot in those damn offices of yours. And I don’t have to steal what I can easily buy.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Well now, isn’t that interesting?”
She hung up before he could say anything more. And he was left with the feeling he’d already said too much.
Chapter 50
Rod was usually up for a party, but tonight he felt like he’d been granted some sacred privilege just being let inside the door. Maggie McKenzie wasn’t a challenge. Tracy was a challenge. Maggie McKenzie was just a bitch. Acting like he’d assaulted her or something. All he’d done was given her one stupid, lousy kiss. A kiss she had to know was coming. It wasn’t as if he’d tried to have sex with her. Hell, he hadn’t even copped a feel. He’d even apologized after she complained about it. And instead of accepting his apology, she’d had the nerve to slap him. He couldn’t believe her ingratitude. He’d gone out of his way to do her such an enormous favor. And she’d repaid him by becoming Miss Priss.
He did have one problem though, and that was Preston. If Maggie went running to him with her version of what happened this afternoon, he could end up minus his biggest client. And he definitely couldn’t have that.
Scanning the crowded levels of the bar, Rod searched for familiar faces, a task that would have been much faster if his gaze wasn’t getting constantly side-tracked by scantily clad college girls. If he’d known this place was such a smorgasbord of potential sex, he’d have worked doubly hard at getting it re-opened. The band had already started playing, making the women even more fun to watch as their bodies gyrated to a rapid-fire beat. The only thing that could have made the sight better would have been if they were all naked. And all wanted to have sex with him.
Finally, on the other side of the dance floor, Rod spotted Preston. Better yet, Maggie wasn’t with him. He dodged his way around the dance floor, nodding when Preston caught sight of him. “Hey!” He yelled above the music. “How’s it going, buddy? Nice party, eh?”
“It’s all right.”
Preston’s gaze was trained on the bar, where, Rod assumed, Maggie was. He had a pretty good idea what had Preston in such a bummer mood, which made telling him that Maggie had kissed him a very tricky proposition. He nudged Preston in the arm. “Let’s go to the bar outside on the deck and get a drink. I’m dying of thirst and I can’t hear myself think in here.”
Preston peeled his gaze away from the bar in the far corner of the room. “Yeah. Sure.”
Rod made his way out to the deck, checking to make sure his best client followed. The deck proved to be much quieter. And to Rod’s delight, there were a few well-built girls flashing their tits out on the beach. He chuckled. “Nice view.”
“What?” Preston had caught up to him, but missed the joke.
Rod pointed out the girls, splashing around in the surf, their tops now completely off. “Man, how’d you like to do a couple of them?”
He could tell by Preston’s disinterested shrug his friend was being a pussy-whipped wuss and still pouting about Maggie. What a fucking waste of time. Especially for such an ice cold bitch. She could give Antarctica a run for its money when it came to cooling a person off. “Hey, quit being all bummed out about Maggie,” he said. “Believe me, I can tell you from personal experience now the woman is not worth it.” He silently congratulated himself. The perfect opening.
As hoped, Preston took the bait. He focused his complete attention on Rod. “What do you mean by that?”
Rod hesitated. He had to play this one just right in order for it to work. “Just that there’s other women out there, you know? More fish in the sea. And ones that’ll want and appreciate you a hell of a lot more than she does.”
Preston tensed his jaw. “What do you know about how much Maggie wants or appreciates me?”
“Nothing, man. I don’t know anything. Just forget it.”
“Okay, Rod. Now I know you’re lying. What do you know about Maggie that you’re not telling me? What do you mean by personal experience?”
Rod feigned resistance. “I’d rather not say.”
“Whatever the hell it is, you’d damn well better spit it out.” Preston’s tone had become irritated and impatient. “I’m in no mood to play twenty questions.”
“Fine.” Rod pretended to acquiesce. “But just remember, I did not want to tell you this. You’re my friend.”
“Didn’t want to tell me what?”
“About Maggie. About her kissing me.”
The first look on Preston’s face was one of disbelief, so Rod started talking fast. “I’m sorry, man. I just went up to her office to get some paperwork from the State signed, and the next thing I knew she was going on about how grateful she was, and then she started kissing me. And I’m not going to lie to you, I kissed her back. Hell, what man in his right mind wouldn’t?”
The expression on Preston’s face changed slightly. Enough for Rod to know Preston was questioning what he’d just told him. Wondering if there was any possibility it was true.
“Why would Maggie kiss you? No offense, pal, but she can’t stand you.”
Hearing Preston put it that way kind of pissed him off. Preston always had to be so damn smug. “Yeah, well, to tell you the truth, she also mumbled something about making sure you knew she wasn’t going to marry you.”
“I see.”
Rod watched with relief as doubt cleared from Preston’s eyes, and was replaced with a look of understanding, as if he’d finally heard something that made sense to him. Rod put a hand on Preston’s shoulder. “I know, man. It’s got to be rough getting turned down like that. I’ll tell you what, just out of respect for our friendship, I’ll stay away from her. Because I don’t want to end up doing her and pissing you off.”
Preston moved away from him. “Do whatever you want to with her. It’s no concern of mine.”
Rod stood and watched Preston stomp off. Mission accomplished. Maybe he’d celebrate his Oscar-winning performance by going and fucking one of those girls on the beach. When he looked back to where the girls had been, however, they were gone. And strolling hand-in-hand along the beach were Henry Tyler and Tracy. His Tracy.
How dare another fucking Tyler move in on his territory!
Chapter 51
Maggie searched the crowded bar for a glimpse of Preston. Rod’s words kept echoing in her head. Preston had offered a compromise. She had rejected it. It was obvious she didn’t want him. As much as she felt contempt for Rod, there was no denying he had struck a nerve. She had never meant for Preston to think she didn’t want him. She’d overreacted to his mention of moving to Key Largo. Strange, how she could see that so clearly now. Strange, too, to suddenly see things from his point of view after all these years. No matter how she felt about a move to Key Largo and his continued management of Ty-Ken, she should have reacted to his marriage proposal first. Let him know she had meant it when she’d said she loved him. She needed to talk to him. Now.
Other matters needed to be discussed as well. Rod’s outrageous behavior, for instance. She had already handled that problem. But she did want Preston to know about it, if for no other reason than to prove her point: Rod Skinner was slime.
And, of course, there was no question she had to tell him about Andy’s phone call. A strategy session was definitely in order. Not to mention the need to discover whom at Ty-Ken had sold them out. Unfortunately, she hadn’t had any contact with the company’s top managers for years now, and wasn’t in a good position to judge their character. Preston, on the other hand, might have a few ideas. She hated to admit it, but she was glad to have a legitimate reason to approach him tonight. He was sure to still be angry about the way their morning ended.
Predictably, her thoughts bounced back to this morning. She had tried considering the matter rationally. If she was so sure Preston cared more about his job than her, and if he was so unwilling to give it up for her, then how could she possibly have such deep feelings for him? But rationality had nothing to do with it. Whenever she thought about the way he had waited for her when they were younger. Waited to date her, to make love to her, to ask her to marry him. He made her feel special, like she was important enough for him to wait. And, always the gentleman, he would always pull out her chair for her when they sat down to eat, he always opened doors for her. And nothing on earth could compare to the way he made her feel when he touched her, or when he looked at her. Like there was no one else on the planet but the two of them. That made her wonder how could she not have such deep feelings for him. The chasm between the two ideas seemed to come without a bridge. She looked through the crowd again, slowly, paying attention to every face she saw. Finally, she spotted him, on the other side of the dance floor, standing by himself. Perfect.
GRATIFICATION (Desire Never Dies) Page 20
