She took a breath and made her way to the chair in front of his desk. “Hello.”
He strummed his fingers on his leg waiting to give her the opportunity to speak first. Possibly an apology was in order, or at the minimum an explanation.
She settled in the chair and put her bag on her lap.
Once more he found himself with his elbow on the desk and his head in his hand, taking in the woman he married yet didn’t know anything other than her occupation and the secret to making her squirm in bed. What motivated her? What did she want?
They stared at each other.
He glanced at the small antique clock on the corner of his desk. The second hand went around once, twice, and then started its third revolution. He tensed.
Once the second hand went for its fourth time around, he hit his desk. “Willow!”
She jumped. “Yes.”
“Do you have anything to say to me?” He picked up a rubber band and stretched it between his fingers.
“Yes, I do.” She pressed her back to the chair.
He exhaled. “I would love to hear it.”
From her bag, she pulled out a little pouch and placed it on the edge of his desk. “I brought this for you.”
“What is this?” He didn’t touch the gift, if it was a gift.
“It’s my Serene-tea.” She pressed her back into the chair. “I thought maybe Ms. Hartford could use it to calm down.”
Filled with a rush of adrenaline, he shot up out of his chair. “You know what you need?”
She looked up at him with wide eyes.
“Insani-tea!” He turned his back to her and looked out the window overlooking Century City. No one else in any of the tall buildings was having such an inane conversation at this moment. He would bet on it. With a huff, he faced her once more. “Maybe you already drank some while planning that dinner and that’s how we ended up at some bar with food rather than a real restaurant.”
Willow swiped her hair out of her face. “Did you ever think that your account should have just been happy having a meal out on your bank’s dime?”
“Everything…” He swiped his arm around the room. “Everything that you see, this office, the bank, the house, the cars, everything has been brought to us courtesy of clients like Ms. Hartford.”
She opened her mouth, but he held up his hand. Perhaps she would understand his argument in her terms. “Do you know that we have several assistants who only work on that account? Do you know that if we didn’t have them I would have to fire those employees? They have wives and children who need their salaries.”
She put her hand over her mouth.
He sat at the edge of his desk. “What may not seem like a big deal to you, an account like the Hartfords takes as an insult, a slight. They have trusted me and my bank and my family with their fortune and to show up at an unplanned, inappropriate restaurant with other people who had no business being there, could hurt everyone.”
“Randolph.” She barely whispered his name. “I didn’t know.”
“Did you not know or didn’t care?”
Her silence answered his question.
He returned to his chair and sat down.
“She was so nasty.” She looked down at her lap as she spoke.
“Then it is your job to take the high road and then we gossip and make fun of them on the ride home.”
“It all seems so silly.”
“It wasn’t to me.” He lowered his voice.
Once more they stared at each other.
“Well, it doesn’t matter cause you won.” He leaned over the desk. “I would like the calendar back. Mrs. Avery will resume her duties as social planner. All I ask is that you attend the functions with me.”
Her complexion paled yet her cheeks turned red. “Won’t that be against my contract?”
He stifled a sad laugh. “I will have my attorneys make a formal amendment to it if you’d like.”
“Well, it is a sacred contract.” She shrugged. Again, she reached into her bag sliding out the calendar and putting it on his desk. “Here you go.”
He took the book and returned it to his desk drawer, wishing she would have fought for it. “I’m sorry it was all silly for you. I know it probably doesn’t matter, but after the last few days we had together, I was really looking forward to showing off my new wife.” Stupid images of having a partner at one of these meetings, someone to hold his hand while he talked business and someone to take a drive with afterward all but dissipated. Maybe he put too much on her, should have offered help, but since she found the whole thing foolish it was a moot point. He learned time and gain he couldn’t change someone’s inner makeup, though he thought she was the type to be open minded even about things she didn’t understand.
“Then what were you going to tell them next year?”
“What?”
“Were you going to show off your brand new divorce papers?” She looked down.
Her words might as well have slapped him across the face. Was the disaster about something else entirely? During the last days and nights they had become closer and now she tried to put distance between them. “Maybe we shouldn’t think about that part.” A strange emptiness took residence right in his throat. They had months to go before they needed to address their year anniversary.
“How can we not? We started a relationship knowing the end. Everything is there in black and white.” She stood and bolted for the exit. “There’s just something wrong with that.”
He shot up and managed to beat her to the door. “What do you want Willow?” If she wouldn’t offer the information, he would point blank ask.
She wouldn’t even look him in the eye.
“Willow, tell me what you want. Everything is negotiable.” He tried to push her.
She lifted her face, but stared off in the distance as if she were speaking to someone else. “I want to do the job I promised to do.”
“Anything else?” he pressed.
“No.” Her word fell like a boulder between them.
“Then I suppose you can be off the clock until tonight.” He opened the door and returned to his desk.
Chapter Ten
“Willow, love, don’t move.” With a huge smile, Lillian stood back and clasped her hands, admiring her handiwork. “Fix the one curl.”
One of the three hairdressers in Lillian Van Ayers’ private dressing room suite rushed forward and micro adjusted something on her hair.
Willow learned during hour one of Lillian’s preparations to remain absolutely still while other people dressed her, did her hair, and put makeup on her. She wasn’t even allowed to buckle her own shoe.
“Oh.” Lillian pressed her hand to her chest. “Oh, Willow.”
One of the makeup artists ran over and dabbed Lillian’s eye with a cotton swab.
“You look…” Lillian fanned her face. “You look...” She shook her head, backed up and motioned toward the mirror. “You look like a Van Ayers.”
The crew of people surrounding them clapped.
Willow gasped as she took in her reflection. The woman staring back at her was still her, but changed. While it felt as if the artists painted her face like a canvas, she actually looked quite natural, except perfect. They left her hair down, long and flowing over her back as she preferred, but the strands seemed to gleam, smooth and soft with the curl she always wanted.
Of course there was the dress. They called the color champagne, but it was more a liquid shimmering cream. Smooth and silky, the simple yet elegant floor-length strapless gown hugged every inch of her, made to appear as if it were part of her. She turned to Lillian and then glanced at the team of people who created her. She looked like a Van Ayers.
At the end of the day she needed to remember it was all on the surface. She was created to look like a Van Ayers.
Though part of her wanted to shake her head and wipe the makeup off her face, the other part knew that no matter what, for Randolph, for Lillian and for herself, she would pla
y nice at their party. Next year, when she was nothing but a memory to these people, she didn’t want the memory to be of awkward scenes with their coworkers and friends. She wanted them to smile and at least know she gave it everything she had.
“She was already gorgeous.” Lillian came over and gave her a silent clap. “But tonight is special and she is most definitely the belle of the ball.”
“My Chiquita, you look muy bonita!” Nan joined them from the other room with her own team trailing after her.
“You do too.” Willow had no choice but to smile at Nan. In a million years she never dreamed she would see the woman in anything but one of her muumuus, but Lillian worked her magic and found a deep purple fitted dress that showed off Nan’s attributes.
“That is exactly what I pictured.” Lillian was a vision as well in a pink strapless floor length dress. “This is perfect.”
“Maybe we should wear these outfits to Sedona.” Nan posed for her. “Do you think they would kick us out?”
“They don’t allow evening dresses in Sedona?” Lillian looked them all over once more. “What do you do there?”
“We celebrate the winter solstice.” Nan nodded. “It is the return of the light after the dark winter days.”
Yes, Willow allowed Lillian to primp and prod her, she kept quiet since the disagreement about Randolph’s dinner over three weeks ago, and as long as the universe remained on her side she wouldn’t cause any issues tonight. For all those good deeds, she would be rewarded with a trip to Sedona, she hoped. Randolph still needed to agree, and she hoped he would, they needed the trip.
She glanced down at the intricate mosaic floor. Randolph asking what she wanted in his office was one of the last things he said to her aside from a grunt here or there or a quick question. Even Thanksgiving came and went without anything to truly be thankful for. Yes, Lillian put out a spread fit for any cookbook cover, but it lacked any meaning. Maybe it was better. They needed to stay separate, but then she was the one hoping he took her to one of her sacred places.
A knock interrupted her thoughts.
“Well, my guess is people are starting to arrive.” Lillian smoothed down her dress. “That must be the men.”
Willow tensed. The last she’d seen Randolph he was slumped over his home desk working.
One of the staff opened the door and her breath caught.
There was something about a man in a tuxedo. Of course there was something else entirely about Randolph in a tuxedo.
Rather than the typical outfit with a bow tie and cummerbund seen at many high school proms, Randolph wore a three-piece ensemble, black pants, black jacket a cream brocade vest and a regular tie that matched her dress.
He left his curls untamed and they bounced as he walked into the room adding to his sexy swagger and allure. His curls were the tiny drop of mischief in the overall power he possessed. He stopped, almost causing his father to bump into him.
Randolph’s gaze traveled over her. “Willow.”
A shiver ran through her. His blank stare gave nothing away, no approval, no repulsion. A poker face, the same one he must use in a negotiation for a percentage or two of profit. “Randolph.”
“Should we get going to your party?” His tone came out tight and businesslike. At last he crossed the room.
“It’s your party too.” Her throat dried out.
“Well, then I say we should join our guests at our party.” Without a word about her dress or anything else, he held his arm out to her.
Maybe he thought their relationship should remain more business-like as well. More than once she heard Randolph’s father say the evening was nothing more than one big meeting in uncomfortable clothes. She put a smile on her face and in keeping with her vow for the evening, laced her arm in his.
“We should make an appearance.” The senior Van Ayers nodded at her. Most of the time, he didn’t really deal with her at all. Of course he knew she was only a temporary addition. “We put the dog in the locked laundry room so he wouldn’t get spooked with the guests.”
While Mr. Van Ayers might not care for her, Willow noticed he did have a fondness for Jeb.
“This is perfect, just perfect.” Lillian went to her husband and motioned for Nan to join them.
“You all look lovely.” Mr. Van Ayers led Nan and Lillian away.
“Let’s do this.” Randolph guided her out of the room.
Light classical music wafted through the mansion, mixing with Randolph’s cologne and causing her head to spin. She barely realized they made it to the staircase until he stopped.
“Oh!” For the girl who never even had as much as a birthday party, the scene below was overwhelming. She tried not to focus on the excess, instead focused on the moment and her job.
The illuminated chandeliers gave the whole downstairs sparkle. Uniformed staff members walked around carrying silver trays of appetizers and champagne. The guests who already arrived appeared as if they were ready to walk a red carpet. Lillian had turned the house into a veritable winter wonderland, a Charles Dickens picture perfect postcard.
Randolph pulled her closer.
She held her breath waiting for him to say something.
“Ready?”
“Yes.” She exhaled, blowing away her expectations.
They made their way down the stairs while the whole party seemed to stop and watch them. Throughout her life whenever she had entered situations where she felt on display, Nan always told her to move outside herself, let things happen and watch them roll by. With each step she took, she heeded Nan’s advice.
Her strategy worked. Though the guests bombarded her with introductions, questions and well wishes, she stayed close to Randolph’s side smiling, nodding and sipping the champagne Randolph handed her.
“I’m so happy for you.” One of the guests, an older woman in a light blue beaded gown, leaned in and gave Randolph a kiss on the cheek. “Everything is lovely. I was shocked to hear you eloped.”
“Sometimes you have to seize an opportunity when it finds you.” He chuckled.
Willow continued to smile. Thus far every conversation seemed to be a carbon copy of the last.
“At least you decided to have a celebration fitting for your family.” The woman patted him on the shoulder. “You wouldn’t want to look bad. You have a name to uphold.”
More than once the guests made similar comments about family, reputation, his name and appearances. Her smile waned and she glanced around the foyer, taking in the people from a different perspective. Rather than becoming blinded with the jewels, the clothes, and the trappings most everyone wished for, she suddenly saw the riches as weights. Each person there was trying desperately to outdo another for position, waiting for the right moment to knock someone off their pedestal. Any small thing could hurt them.
“Please enjoy yourself.” Randolph nodded.
The woman walked away to be replaced by a younger couple.
“I never thought I would see the day the bachelor of Bel Air would be married.” The woman elbowed him.
“Well the day has come.” Randolph produced his poster-worthy smile.
“I see this.” The woman held her hand out toward Willow. “Let me see the ring. It’s all anyone can talk about.”
Why was seeing the ring such a critical point? What about the jewelry made it important? Instead, she held her hand out and gazed down at the stone with the woman. If the marriage had been real, had he gotten down on one knee and proposed to her because he loved her and married her because he couldn’t envision his life without her, Randolph could have given her a ring made out of tin foil and she would have loved it.
“I have heard about this diamond for years.” The woman sighed. “It’s a lot to live up to.”
Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Randolph looking at her.
“I love the history.” She kept her hand out. Yes, any mistake, no matter how silly or superficial, could harm Randolph, any mistake including choosing the wrong restaur
ant. She faced him.
The couple went on their way and he wrapped his arm around her waist, the first true attention he showed her since the office when he asked her what she wanted.
“I don’t know.” She meant to only think the words but realized she said them aloud. How did she end up here? The man had everything and with one slip almost lost it all until he earned his consolation prize. What was it like to live knowing that with one error, everything he worked for could vanish?
“What?” He tilted his head.
“I meant I didn’t know.” She wanted to explain, dare she say apologize, but she shook her head and put another smile on her face. “Never mind.” Randolph and his father were right. The party was more akin to a business function with no time to talk.
“No tell me.” He gave their empty glasses to one of the waiters passing by and took both her hands. “But first there is something I need to tell you.”
Damn her stomach for fluttering. Those sensations didn’t belong to her, not for their sham marriage. She didn’t need to talk to him she only made a mistake about the dinner, she didn’t commit a crime. No, not true. She took a breath. No mistake on her part, no, she completely disregarded something of importance to the man she married. After always being taught to appreciate the differences, when it came to her husband she only saw one side. “Randolph.” Even upset, the man still had her business cards made and sent Peter over to help with the two hundred piece lotion order.
He ignored the next couple of people who came up to them and took her by the waist. “With everything going on, I didn’t know how to tell you how absolutely gorgeous you are tonight.” He stepped closer and leaned over to her ear. “You did what many couldn’t, made me speechless. Honestly, you do that no matter what. I wish we could just go be alone. I hate these kinds of parties.”
She closed her eyes and let the shivers he created by whispering in her ear take over. “I’m sorry about the dinner, I didn’t understand, but I think I do now.” Her chest lightened, letting her heart swell. Part of her wished the organ would set her free, but Randolph seemed to have some bizarre control over her.
On The Dotted Line Page 15
