by Susan Meier
Or what if that kiss hadn’t been as good to him as it had been to her? What if that was why he was back to calling her his friend?
Disappointment choked her, but her pride surfaced to save her. She would not make a fool of herself in front of him again.
Although every fiber in her being wanted to weep, she took a long, slow breath to compose herself and quietly said, “I probably would have more fun in fashion.” She glanced at him again. “But would I be able to eat?”
“Eventually.”
She laughed. Dear God, the man was honest. Here she was ready to fall into a black pit of despair and he didn’t sugarcoat her situation. Of course, he probably didn’t realize she was drowning. That she had fallen in love and he hadn’t.
“If there’s one thing I like about you, it’s that you speak your mind.”
“I do. My guess is you’d have a year as a gopher of some sort and years of apprenticing, but at least this time your sacrifices would have a goal. And someday you might make it big. Maybe start your own line.”
“My own line? Isn’t that a little ambitious?”
“Not if you have an investor behind you. Someone who knows your work and likes you.”
Her eyes sought his again. His gaze didn’t waver.
OMG. Had he just admitted he liked her? That he wanted to stay in her life? With their Christmas deal ending, was he looking for a way to continue to see her?
“You’d do that?”
“We’d have to see how you progress under Artie’s tutelage, but, yeah, I’d do that.”
She stared at him, her eyes drowning in fresh tears. Her chest swelled with hope. Designing her own line was a dream come true, but the hope came from staying in his life. He wasn’t leaving her. He was making a place for her so that he could take his time.
They had time.
“Look. Go to the interview tomorrow or don’t. It’s your choice. But at least know you have a choice.”
She licked her suddenly dry lips. “Yes. I do.”
The music stopped and the couple next to them walked over. Ricky shook the man’s hand and introduced him to Eloise as Steve Grant, a Wall Street guy, and his wife, Amanda, a lawyer. She smiled politely and nodded and agreed when it seemed appropriate, but her head was swimming.
In the space of an hour, her entire life—all her goals—had changed, but all she could focus on was the fact that she’d see him again. He was making room for her in his life, a reason for them to see each other for however long he invested in her.
Her brain froze. For as long as he invested in her?
Had he turned their relationship into another business deal?
CHAPTER TEN
THEY RODE HOME in absolute silence. On the one hand, she didn’t want to lose him, and staying connected meant they’d continue to see each other. On the other, if his offer was only a business deal, she might have already lost him.
At her apartment door, he said, “So, you’re okay with everything?”
Okay? She wasn’t even sure she understood it. But she did want the interview. And she did understand that even if Ricky didn’t love her, he’d done more than provide job opportunities for her. He’d gone the extra mile and helped her find what she really wanted to do with the rest of her life.
She couldn’t dismiss that or belittle it.
“I’m ecstatic. I wouldn’t have even attempted getting an apprentice job with someone like Artie Best.” She caught his gaze. “Thanks. Really.”
He smiled. “I’ll send Norman tomorrow morning to drive you to the interview.”
Confusion poured through her. He’d almost kissed her on their tequila night. He’d kissed her with unbearable emotion the night of their carriage ride. He’d understood something about her and her career that she hadn’t even realized herself. Yet he was so distant she had no choice but to believe that sending his car for her was only an extension of their deal.
“You don’t have to do that. I’ll take the subway.”
He stopped her by putting his hand on her shoulder. “It’s Norman’s job to know how to get places. He’ll do the research tonight to find Artie’s offices. That way you can relax and spend your mental energy preparing for the interview.”
Because that made sense, she nodded. “Thanks.”
Although his hand was on her shoulder, he didn’t try to bring her close for a kiss. Hell, he didn’t look one bit like a man who wanted to kiss her. He just squeezed lightly, turned and started down the hall. “Good night.”
She swallowed. Emptiness tightened her chest. Even if she got a position with Artie Best, and—years down the road—Ricky decided to invest in her designs, he could pass her off to assistants. This might be the last time she ever saw him, and she was looking at his back as he walked away.
Her voice a confused whisper, she said, “Good night.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”
Her breath stumbled. “Tomorrow afternoon?”
He faced her again. “For my office party.”
She blinked.
“You can tell me how the interview went then. In fact, why don’t we just have Norman bring you to my office after the interview, save some time?”
Her heart fell. He just wanted to hear about her morning with Artie Best. “But I’ll be dressed for an interview, not a party.”
He shrugged. “My employees are coming to the office on an afternoon they don’t have to, so it’s informal. Jeans. Sweaters. You’ll be fine.”
He headed for the stairs, and she walked into her apartment. They might be going to another party, but he hadn’t wanted to kiss her and he had gotten her a job. Even if he continued their deal, they only had one more party and one wedding.
How the heck was she supposed to prove herself in two events? Especially when it was clear he was distancing himself.
* * *
As promised, bright and early Sunday morning, Norman texted her that he was outside her apartment building. In skinny jeans, tall black boots and her beloved green cashmere sweater, she slid into her parka and scrambled down the stairs.
Norman awaited her at the door to the limo.
“Good morning.”
He smiled. “Good morning.”
She slid inside and he got behind the steering wheel. When the car began to move, he opened the glass that separated them.
“I’m hoping you have good luck on your interview.”
She laughed. “Yeah. Me too. There’s only so long a person can live on noodles before they start feeling like a big bowl of chicken soup.”
Catching her gaze in the mirror, he grinned. “I like you. You’re not Mr. Langley’s typical date.”
“He likes them richer?”
“He used to like them poutier.”
“Used to?”
“He hasn’t dated in a long time. But when he dated, the women he chose were rich and spoiled, or models or starlets, women accustomed to attention.” He smiled in the mirror again. “You’re their opposite.”
She didn’t have the heart to tell him Ricky dating her had been a ruse. Her soul was so sad that the only thing keeping her going this morning was the knowledge that she might get a job in the fashion industry. Not in a stuffy office, but at a place where she’d help design the clothes the rest of the world would wear.
It wasn’t quite a magical end to her dating a man she accidentally fell in love with, but it was heady stuff, and she would appreciate it.
So she pasted on a smile for Norman and said, “Thank you.”
“No. Thank you. And good luck.”
Although his thank you puzzled her, through the rest of the ride she focused her attention on what she’d say to Artie Best. For once, she wasn’t going to an interview hoping for rent money. She
wanted this job. Wanted this career. She would have to be sharp to get it.
Artie Best’s office was the top floor of an old factory. Quirky and fun, it was filled with fabric and dress molds, sewing machines and drafting tables. Racks of dresses lined the entire side wall.
“This place is great.”
He ushered her to a small room in the back. “We like it.”
As he sat on the chair behind a big metal desk, he motioned for her to take the seat in front of it. “So you haven’t been to design school?”
She shook her head. “No. Sorry.”
He inclined his head. “I didn’t go either.”
Her spirits rose a bit. “You didn’t?”
“No, but I apprenticed.” He sat back. “Your boyfriend’s a very wealthy, influential man.”
The heat of embarrassment filled her. She had to struggle not to tell Artie Best that Ricky wasn’t her boyfriend. If he was only hiring her to get in good with Ricky, it wouldn’t get him very far. But if she admitted the truth to Artie Best, then she’d be betraying Ricky.
Still, she couldn’t quite hold her tongue, couldn’t deceive him into thinking he’d be getting something he wasn’t. “I’m only here because you want to get in good with Ricky?”
“No. You’re here because you have talent. What I’m telling you is that I don’t do favors for rich guys. If you think dating Ricky Langley will get you special treatment, then this interview can be over. If you think dating Ricky Langley means you don’t have to apprentice, you know the way to the door. But if you want a real career in this industry, if you don’t mind hard work and a learning curve...then I really do want to talk.”
* * *
Four hours later, she all but skipped out of Artie’s building onto the street to Norman, who held open the limo door.
“You got it?”
She beamed. “Yes!”
“Very good.”
He closed the door and slid onto the front seat, started the engine and drove off.
She leaned back on the soft leather, her heart pounding, her spirits lifted in a way they hadn’t been in five years. She didn’t have a goal anymore. She had a vision. She could see herself working for Artie, learning, squirreling away information and experience until one day she could be her own boss. Have her own line.
Her own line.
Even the thought stole her breath.
Norman pulled the limo up to the curb in front of a tall white office building. She danced inside, pushed the button for the floor listed for Ricky’s suite in the building directory and rode the elevator, trying to school her face so Ricky’s employees wouldn’t think she was drunk or high or just plain crazy.
The doors opened on a reception area. A black marble security station looped around in a huge semicircle. A pleasant security guard greeted her.
“Can I help you, miss?”
“I’m Eloise Vaughn, Mr. Langley’s friend. I’m here for the Christmas party.”
He studied a list on a tablet screen and frowned. “I’m sorry. I don’t see your name.”
A week ago that would have thrown her for a loop. Her pride would have taken a direct hit. Knowing Ricky had forgotten her, she would have slunk away.
Today? Nothing could stop her. The hurts of the last five years had been tidily tucked away. She was a new person now. A woman with a job and a vision. A woman who wasn’t afraid to stand up for herself.
A woman who wasn’t letting the love of her life go without a fight.
She struggled not to gasp. When had that happened? And when had she gotten her boldness back?
She didn’t know. Maybe the excitement of finally finding her way had filled her with strength. But whatever it was, it felt right.
Wayne might have been a love in her life, but Ricky was the great love of her life. She wasn’t losing him.
She smiled at the security guard. “Give him a call. Tell him Eloise is here and I’m not on your list.”
He hesitated.
“Don’t be afraid. He really did invite me.”
Skeptical, the security guard picked up the receiver of the black phone on the desk. He pressed a button.
“Mr. Langley, I’m sorry to bother you, but there’s a woman at the desk...an Eloise...” He grimaced. “Yes. Thank you.” He hung up the phone and smiled at Eloise. “You can go back.”
She headed to the glass doors that led to a cubicle canyon, but she stopped. “What about you?”
The guard faced her. “Excuse me?”
“What about you? Don’t you get to go to the party?”
“The guards take turns manning the security desk. We go into the party in shifts.”
* * *
From his place in the back of the huge one-room main office of his company, Ricky watched Eloise open the door, then pause and talk to the security guard. Concern for the young man was written all over her face.
He shook his head. She was such a sweet, considerate person that the thought of losing her rocketed sadness through him. She was different from any woman he’d dated, any woman he knew—except Olivia. But wouldn’t it make sense that friends like Olivia and Eloise would share the same traits? Honesty. Integrity. Kindness.
Or maybe, knowing her and Olivia, he was finally coming to realize all women weren’t like his ex. He’d never date another party girl again, but there were plenty of good women in the world. Eloise being one of the best.
Still, the fact that Eloise was so good, so wonderful, made it imperative that he not drag her into his depressing life. So this would be their last day together. Their last party. If she’d gotten the job, there was no reason to prolong the agony. If he wanted to remember her, he would have to drink in every detail today because he’d never see her again.
She walked past gray cubicle walls draped with tinsel, under the big red holiday ornament that hung from the center of the ceiling and by the ledges of windows that held evergreen branches sprayed with fake snow.
He knew the second she saw him because she smiled and waved. His heart flip-flopped as he motioned for her to join him.
She all but skipped over to the copy machine where he stood. Adding that skip to the light in her eyes told the whole story. She’d gotten the job.
Not wanting to spoil her moment, he said, “Well?”
“I got it!”
“I knew it.”
She unexpectedly rose to her tiptoes and hugged him tightly.
His heart tripped over itself in his chest. He longed to take her face in his hands and kiss her. Hard. But that would only confuse things. Or make him pine for things he couldn’t have. He squeezed his eyes shut and for a few seconds enjoyed the feeling of her arms around him. Then he stepped back.
“What are we going to do about your gifts?”
He glanced up to see David giving him a curious look. And why not? This time last year, he couldn’t even attend this party. This year, he’d doubled bonuses, come to the party and had just been hugged by a pretty girl.
Still, none of his assistants had mentioned gifts. “What gifts?”
Tall, gray-haired David shifted uneasily. “Well, because this is a party, I thought it might be cute to put the bonus envelopes into little gift boxes. That kind of morphed into buying everybody a watch.”
He frowned, but Eloise tugged on his arm. “It is cute.”
That was one of the reasons he liked her. He thought like a guy. Logical. Straightforward. She was more of a people person. Now that she’d had approved it, he supposed tucking bonuses into watch boxes was cute.
“Okay.”
David smiled at Eloise and she smiled back, as if they shared some great secret.
“I think everybody will love it.”
“So I just have to hand out gifts?”
He sighed. “What?”
David glanced at Eloise, then quickly back at Ricky before he said, “Would you mind putting on the Santa suit?”
His face fell. His heart stuttered. The one and only time he’d worn the Santa suit he’d had Blake at this party.
Eloise touched his arm again. “I think that would be cute, too.”
He swallowed.
Obviously reading his reaction, David shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I just got carried away.”
Ricky caught Eloise’s gaze again. She tilted her head and smiled at him, encouraging him.
He wasn’t ready. But something about the way she looked at him emboldened him. At some point, he had to get back into life—or at least pretend to get back into life so his employees could stop worrying. After he gave out the gifts, the party would be over. His employees would go to the bar down the street. It wasn’t like he had to be Santa for hours. Just twenty minutes.
Surely, he could do that?
“Okay.” He looked Eloise again. “But she has to be the elf.”
“Elf?” She laughed.
David beamed at Eloise. “Love it! Follow me.”
They walked back to David’s office and he pulled two big boxes from a closet. He smiled broadly as he handed Eloise the top box. “You can change in the ladies’ room just down the hall.” He handed the fatter box to Ricky. “You can just change here.”
With that he left the office. Eloise followed on his heels.
Ten minutes later, Ricky was in his fat suit when Eloise returned from the ladies’ room dressed in green tights, a short red dress and a long green hat that had a jingle bell that bounced off her shoulder when she walked.
“This is weird.”
She looked cute. Happy. Like Christmas spirit personified. Everything in him filled with joy, reminding him of the incredible happiness that swirled through his parents’ house at the holidays.
He jerked himself back to reality. Where had that memory come from? Why had looking at Eloise made him think of his parents?
“You should be me.” He adjusted the fat pack at his belly. “I feel like a couch pillow.”
