“Sure, Gwennie. Why?”
“This is where your discretion comes in. I’m going to be living with the Harrisons for the next couple of weeks.” Gwen held the phone away from her ear in expectation of her sister’s reaction.
“You’re what?” Even with the phone several inches away, she clearly heard every one of the dozen rapid-fire questions delivered at the top of her sister’s voice.
“Calm down. Good Lord, you sound exactly like Mother when you do that.”
“That’s uncalled for.”
“Well, if the shoe fits…”
“You do understand that if that columnist from Dallas Lifestyles gets wind of this, she’ll have a field day with you.”
“There’s nothing nefarious going on. I’m moving into the guest bedroom so I’ll have total access to Evie. If my overdeveloped sense of propriety can handle it, so can yours.” She consulted her list one last time. Surely she had everything she needed. It wasn’t like she was going to Siberia or anything. “Since when do you care what people think anyway?”
Sarah sighed. “That’s my point. I don’t, but you need to. Let me remind you that the majority of your clientele is hugely conservative. Proper debutante trainers don’t live with men they aren’t related to.”
“I know, I know. This is why you need to keep your mouth shut. Should anyone find out—”
“And you know they will, Gwennie. Will Harrison is one of that Hulme woman’s favorite subjects for her column. Do you honestly think you can move in to his house and no one will notice?”
It was Gwen’s turn to sigh. “I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. This is a business arrangement, nothing more. No one would question it if he’d hired a live-in housekeeper. This isn’t any different.”
“I’d keep practicing that statement, if I were you. I think you’re going to need it.”
“There’s no need to sound so dire. It’s not like there’s paparazzi staking out his building or anything. If I just lie low and not call attention to myself, this should stay under the radar.”
“Good luck with that.” Gwen could almost hear Sarah’s eyes rolling with the sarcasm.
“Jeez, thanks for the vote of support.”
“You have my support—you know that. I also know how hard you’ve worked to build something here, and I’d hate for you to lose ground again.”
“I know. But I just get the feeling this is the right thing to do. That it’s my chance. I’ve got to try. If not, I’m afraid I’m going to spend another five years playing with place settings.”
“Then I’ll keep my fingers and toes crossed for you.”
“Thank you. Now can you come get Letitia and keep her until I’m finished with Evie?”
“Of course.”
“And speaking of Evie, can I bring her in to see you this week? Seems she’s going to need a wardrobe.”
She heard the clicks from the keyboard that meant Sarah was checking her schedule. “I’m free Friday afternoon,” she finally said. “Will that work? Monday morning would be okay, too. Just let me know.”
“Thanks. I’m already running late so I really have to go. I’ll have my cell if you need me. And remember, discretion.”
“Genau.” Sarah switched back to English. “Call me tomorrow. I want to hear all the juicy details.”
“Goodbye.” There will be no juicy details this time.
The brief foray into German reminded Gwen to go back to her office for her Japanese dictionary and software. If she wanted to promote herself as an expert in Asian relations, she needed to get her fluency back in Japanese. Which meant she was dependent on software for the time being. Hopefully Evie didn’t eat with her feet and she’d have some time to practice…
As she loaded her car, she questioned her sanity one last time. If all went well, this could change everything for her. If she could just get HarCorp as a satisfied customer, every company in Dallas would be lining up for her services. Heck, HarCorp could open doors for her all over Texas.
But if Evie wasn’t ready in time…she could kiss most of her clientele goodbye. Sarah wasn’t wrong about her business suffering if the gossip columns decided to portray her as some kind of immoral floozy. But the true Worst Case Scenario was if she didn’t produce the results Will Harrison expected. Unhappy Harrisons spelled certain doom for her entire business—including the debs. No one would hire her for anything if the Harrisons blacklisted her. The Dallas elite were a close-knit group. Alienating one meant alienating them all.
This was make or break time.
Nothing like a little pressure to keep a girl on her toes. She shifted into Drive and tried to think positively.
On a map, Will Harrison’s high-rise building might be only four miles from her funky M Street cottage, but in terms of wealth, Gwen felt like she’d traveled to the moon.
She stopped under the porte cochere where a doorman met her at her car and introduced himself as Michael. She identified herself, half expecting to be told to move her simple Honda to a less-affluent area.
“Miss Sawyer, of course. Mr. Harrison said to expect you. Let me help you with your things, and Ricky will take your car to the garage.”
The helpful doorman made easy conversation as he gathered her gear from the trunk and escorted her to the elevator. “The Harrisons are in Penthouse A.”
Of course they are. Where else would they live? Michael pushed the button marked P, and she gasped as the elevator sped to the top floor in seconds and deposited them almost directly in front of the door marked A.
“I cannot believe I’m doing this,” she muttered.
“Excuse me?” Michael asked from behind her.
“Oh, nothing.” With one last mental slap to the forehead, she rang the bell.
She heard a voice shout “I’ll get it!” before the door was thrown open by a teenage girl she had to assume was Evie.
The girl’s dark red hair was braided into cornrows tipped with colorful beads that swung dangerously as she turned to shout, “Will, she’s here!” She waved Gwen in and smiled at Michael as he returned to the elevator.
Evie’s casual air and easy manner contrasted sharply with the cool marble elegance of the foyer. Tall and thin in the way only teenagers can be, she wore faded blue jeans frayed at the hems and a gauzy white peasant shirt. While she was barefoot and fresh-faced now, Evie would be a raving beauty once she matured out of the gangly awkwardness of adolescence. Gwen remembered the picture of Bradley Harrison that hung in the HarCorp lobby; Evie must have inherited her amazing bone structure from her mother. Neither she nor Will favored Bradley Harrison at all, except for their eyes.
Just as she thought his name, Will appeared from a room farther down the hall. Her breath caught in her chest. The suit and tie were gone, replaced by a pair of faded jeans and a snug blue T-shirt that clearly outlined the shoulders she’d admired earlier in his office. Tanned biceps flexed as he helped Gwen bring her suitcase in.
He, too, was barefoot, and she felt ridiculously out-of-place: overdressed in her suit and sensible shoes and totally dumpy standing next to such perfect specimens of beauty.
“Gwen, this is my sister, Evangeline. Evie, this is Miss Sawyer.”
Pulling herself together, Gwen offered her hand to Evie. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Evangeline. May I call you Evie as well?”
“Ohmigod, you really are Miss Behavior, aren’t you?”
Gwen ignored Will’s uplifted eyebrows. “Yes, I am. I take it you read my column?”
Evie bounced on the balls of her feet. “Every single day since Mrs. Gray told me I had to learn some manners. Plus all the archive stuff, too. I’ve learned so much already. I can’t believe Will got you as my teacher! Cool!”
“Then let’s try this again.” Gwen offered her hand to Evie a second time. “It’s nice to meet you, Evangeline.”
Evie took the hint and with a sideways glance at Will tried again. “It’s nice to meet you too, Miss Sawyer. Please call me Evie.” Ev
ie shook her hand, but it was a timid handshake. They’d work on that tomorrow.
“Since we’re going to be working closely together, why don’t you call me Gwen?”
Evie grinned, and Gwen knew she had a winner on her hands.
“Evie, take Gwen’s things to her room.” Evie disappeared around a corner, dragging Gwen’s suitcase behind her, and Will lifted an eyebrow at her. “Miss Behavior?”
“On the TeenSpace site. Kind of like Miss Manners.” He finally guided her out of the foyer and into a living area with another spectacular view of Dallas. The man must really like looking out over the skyline. “That’s why Evie knew what I was talking about there in the hallway. We went over introductions just last week on the site.”
He nodded and changed the subject abruptly. “Mrs. Gray will have dinner ready in just a minute or two. Would you like a drink?”
Desperately. But she shook her head and declined. She needed her A-game tonight, and a drink wouldn’t help. Perching carefully in the wing chair opposite his, she tried to make small talk. It wasn’t easy.
Will picked up his glass from the coffee table and swirled the amber liquid. Scotch? Bourbon? she wondered briefly, then lost her train of thought as he leaned back in the chair and propped his feet on the edge of the coffee table. They were large and tanned, and for reasons she couldn’t begin to explore, oddly fascinating to her.
“Gwen?”
She snapped back to the conversation and felt the guilty flush creep up her neck. She’d been staring at his feet, for goodness sake. What on earth was wrong with her?
She smiled an apology.
“You can get settled in after dinner. Please make yourself at home. If you need anything, just let Mrs. Gray know.”
“Thank you.”
“Now, let’s talk about Evie.”
Another complete turnaround. Will got bonus points for remembering the small pleasantries, but he remained focused on why she was here.
“What about me?” Evie came into the room and flopped on the sofa.
“I want to hear how Gwen’s going to miraculously turn you into a lady before the Hospital Benefit. You should be sitting up straight and paying attention.”
Evie straightened up and both Harrison siblings looked at her expectantly.
Good God. What have I gotten myself into? “Well…”
Mrs. Gray chose that moment to call them to dinner and Gwen sent up a word of thanks. This was the strangest situation of her career, and she wasn’t sure how to proceed. Dinner would make this much easier.
How wrong she was. Evie chattered like a magpie, covering every topic that crossed her mind, from the TeenSpace site and Gwen’s column to how much she disliked the food in America. Will said little, occasionally commenting on Evie’s monologue when she paused for a breath, and when his BlackBerry beeped in the next room, he went to get it and brought it back to the table with him.
Gwen watched it all in a state of mild shock.
“So, how do you become a manners expert, Gwen? Is there like a school someplace or something?” Evie perched her chin on her fist and gave Gwen her full attention for the first time during the meal. Will even looked up from his BlackBerry to hear her answer.
Well, at least it was some progress. “There are several schools, actually. I have a B.A. in International Affairs, and I’ve attended protocol schools on both coasts. But my family was in the Foreign Service, so I’ve spent my entire life—”
“Really? Cool! Where did you live?” Evie spoke in a series of exclamation points, which wouldn’t be too bad if she would stop interrupting.
“D.C., Germany, England, Japan. Asian culture is a special interest of mine.” While she had Will’s attention, Gwen debated adding more to that statement in hopes he’d make the connection to what she could do for HarCorp’s expansion plans. The opportunity was lost almost immediately, though, as Evie sped on to the next topic of what was beginning to feel like an inquisition.
“Did you have to go to special classes and stuff so you wouldn’t embarrass your parents?”
“Um, sometimes. My mother’s a fiend for proper manners, and she taught me most of what I needed to know. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been allowed in public.” She punctuated the statement with a grin, but Evie stiffened and glanced at Will. Okay, that may have been a sore spot for her, but she’d meant the statement to be funny. With the slight tightening of Will’s jaw as well, she realized her attempt at humor had fallen flat. The light mood turned tense. So, it seemed that was a touchy subject in the Harrison household as well. She hurried on to cover the awkward moment. “But a lot can be learned from books, so I brought you some reading material.”
Evie rolled her eyes. “More homework.”
Will pushed his chair back from the table and stood. “You’ll have to excuse me, ladies. I have a conference call in ten minutes. I’ll leave you two to get to know each other.” A second later, he was gone.
Evie merely nodded and went back to her dinner. Gwen, however, felt her jaw hit the table before she could stop it. Jeez-Louise. A certain amount of laxity was allowed at family meals, but this was ridiculous. She chose her words carefully. “Is this a normal occurrence?”
Evie poked at her peas. “Not really.”
Gwen felt her shoulders sag. “Oh, good.”
Continuing to push her peas around aimlessly, Evie didn’t seem to notice Gwen’s relief. “Will normally eats in his office if he’s home. Sometimes we’ll watch a movie or something while we eat.” She looked around the dining room with interest. “You know, I think this is the first time I’ve eaten in here.”
Gwen choked, then swallowed her lecture on the importance of family meals taken at the table. Her own parents had been such sticklers for family meals, partly due to Mother’s abhorrence of the mere idea of a TV tray. One of the first things she did when she moved out on her own was to eat dinner in the living room. She’d felt so rebellious, she nearly had to call home to brag about her indiscretion.
Evie sat up straight in her chair, drawing Gwen’s attention back to the situation at hand. “How am I doing? Am I hopeless?”
The earnest, expectant look on her face was so different from the usual teenagers that suffered through her classes, and Gwen’s heart clenched at Evie’s need to please. “You’re not hopeless at all, just a little rough around the edges. Would you like to start your lessons tonight?”
Evie’s eager nod would have been almost comical if Gwen hadn’t seen that need exposed earlier. “Then sit up straight, feet on the floor…”
“It’s taken care of, Marcus. Evie’s lessons start today.” The old man could be such a nag.
“Who did you hire? Did you check her references?”
Will hadn’t; that’s what he paid his secretary for. But Marcus didn’t need to know that. “Gwen Sawyer came highly recommended. She does debutante training.”
Nancy came in with his third cup of coffee and an armload of reports, giving him an excuse to cut the conversation short without too much guilt. “Unless you have some company business to discuss…”
“No, no. Get back to work. I’ll be by Thursday evening to meet this Miss Sawyer.”
That was the problem with working with people who’d known you all your life, Will thought as he hung up the phone and turned to the stack of reports Nancy left on his desk. They never believe you’re actually an adult. He was perfectly capable of hiring a tutor for his sister without Marcus’s oversight.
Evie was certainly thrilled with Gwen. He’d seen her briefly this morning, and she’d chattered on in her usual nonstop fashion about all Gwen had taught her after he’d left the table. And she’d thanked him again for hiring the one and only Miss Behavior.
Evie’s excitement was the reason he was currently surfing TeenSpace instead of concentrating on the reports from Tokyo littering his desk. Well, it was part of the reason. He had to admit he was a bit interested in Gwen Sawyer as well. Too bad he had to leave the table last night for
that conference call—he’d been enjoying himself.
Telling himself it was his responsibility as Evie’s guardian to check up on Gwen, he’d headed to the Web site Gwen mentioned the night before. TeenSpace was a headache-inducing riot of color and graphics about TV stars and bands he’d never heard of. In the top right-hand corner of the home page he found the link he was looking for. The “Miss Behavior” page loaded and Gwen’s picture smiled at him over the phrase “More Than Forks and Tea Cups…Etiquette for the Twenty-First Century.”
“Etiquette” seemed a pretty broad term for what Gwen was dispensing in her column. Drama and angst outnumbered true etiquette five to one. Gwen was certainly trying, though. In addition to letters from her readers, she had column after column of basic behavior skills. He had to give Gwen credit; she seemed to give sound advice that her readers accepted at face value, and she was extremely, well, polite about everything. Any reservations he might have been entertaining evaporated. Gwen was definitely the right choice for Evie. Out of curiosity, he typed “Miss Behavior” into Google. An article from the Tribune popped up first.
“She’s Not Your Mother’s Miss Manners”
Miss Behavior, the new etiquette expert on the Dallas-based TeenSpace Web site, has taken more than Dallas by storm. Hits to the teen-centered site have tripled since she came on board nine months ago, and she gets more e-mail from the site than any other columnist. Part Miss Manners, part Dear Abby, her answers to teens’ modern-day etiquette dilemmas are succinct, sassy and spot-on. In real life, Miss Behavior is Gwen Sawyer, a Dallas etiquette consultant favored by debutantes…
Nancy buzzed the intercom, interrupting his reading.
“Mr. Harrison, Miss Sawyer is on line one.”
Already? Had Evie pushed her over the edge in less than twenty-four hours? “Gwen?”
“I’m sorry to bother you—so I won’t keep you but a minute—but I need to tell Mrs. Gray what time to serve dinner this evening. Is seven all right?”
“I’ll just grab something on the way home, so…”
The Millionaire's Misbehaving Mistress Page 3
