by Joanna Shupe
An aberration. If only he meant that in the positive sense. Build those walls higher. She folded her hands. “Is that all you cared to discuss?”
“One more thing and then we’ll depart.” He stood and closed the distance between them. Cupping her face between his hands, he kissed her softly, swiftly. “Thank you for tonight. Whatever went wrong between us, I’ll fix it. This matters to me. You matter to me.”
Oh, dear. Her heart melted, the organ turning a soggy mess inside her chest. No, she must not allow this. He was her employer. She could not risk losing her greatest work to date and her father’s legacy.
Swallowing the emotion clogging her throat, she patted his cheek. “You are sweet. Now let’s hurry. I shouldn’t like to be late for dinner.”
Phillip slammed the front door behind him, the wood rattling on the hinges from the force. He tossed his hat and cane on the table and started for the stairs. A tangle of emotions rioted through him, confusion at the forefront. Eva’s abrupt change in demeanor baffled him. One minute, they were basking in an intimate glow, her limbs warm and pliant against his. The next minute she’d turned into an ice queen.
You are being silly. This was lovely but I must now return home.
What on earth had he done wrong?
Roberts arrived, a word of greeting dying on his lips when he saw his master’s face.
“I’ll be in the ballroom,” Phillip told his butler. At least he could let off some steam there. More than a year ago the giant empty space had been converted to hold boxing equipment. He had gloves, several heavy bags, and a speed bag there to help him work up a sweat when the occasion called for it. If he wanted to spar against a real partner, however, he traveled down to McGirk’s.
Tonight he just needed to use his fists and expel some of the frustration burning in his chest.
“Please wait, sir. Mr. Milliken is here, awaiting you in your office.”
Phillip heaved a sigh and stopped halfway up the steps. Shit. “What does he want?”
“He has been waiting for the better part of an hour.”
Turning, he stomped down the stairs, returned to the main floor, and found his way to the office. Milliken rose from a chair, his derby in his hands. Phillip continued to the sideboard and poured two glasses of whiskey. “Milliken, this better be good.”
“I need to speak with you, sir. About this unconventional set of circumstances you’ve created at the site.”
Phillip carried the glasses over and handed one to Milliken. He dropped into the chair behind his desk and took a long swallow. The whiskey burned all the way down, taking a slight edge off his anger. “Well, what is it? What happened today?”
“We cannot have a woman strolling about on the site any longer.”
This was not the first—or tenth—time Milliken had raised the issue. “We’ve had this discussion. You know where I stand. I must wait this out until her father arrives.”
Milliken lifted his glass and threw back some liquor. “Yes, but I fear the situation has turned dangerous. Today, she was walking through the piles of debris near the east wall and one collapsed.”
Phillip shot straight in his chair, the wooden legs rocking with his weight. “Collapsed? Jesus, she could’ve been killed.” The idea of it made him sick to his stomach. Why hadn’t she mentioned the accident tonight? Because you had your face between her legs. And then your cock.
“Precisely right, sir. She was quick on her feet, apparently, and escaped with nothing more than some dust on her skirts. But this kind of thing could happen at any moment. We’re not used to having a woman on the site. It’s bad—”
“I know, it’s bad luck.” He drank more whiskey, wondering what Milliken and the laborers would say if they knew Eva’s moniker. “There’s no such thing as luck, however.”
Milliken shook his head, and Phillip didn’t bother trying to change the Irishman’s mind. The notion of luck was bone-deep with some people. “Bad luck or not, she’s a distraction to the men.”
“Has anyone . . . ?”
“No, not that I’ve seen or heard. That doesn’t mean it couldn’t happen, sir.”
Phillip finished the liquid in his glass and set the crystal on his desk. “I don’t like it, either. I never expected to face these problems, as I’d always assumed Hyde would helm the ship. However, in Hyde’s absence, she’s the architect’s liaison. I cannot bar her from the site.”
“Even if someone gets killed because of her? You know how easily accidents happen when men aren’t paying attention to what they are doing.”
“No one will be hurt. But let’s better brace those piles to prevent anything like this happening again.”
“Already done,” Milliken said with a nod. “I have the night shift working on that. Be finished by morning.”
“Good. And circulate word with the men once more about staying far, far away from Miss Ashford. I don’t want them talking or looking at her. Any man who touches her—or, God forbid, hurts her—will be answering directly to me.”
His general contractor frowned but jerked his head. “I wish you would reconsider. I know you and Miss Ashford are fond of one another—”
“Stop right there,” Phillip snapped. “She is Hyde’s employee and therefore my employee as well. There is nothing untoward happening between Miss Ashford and me.” He knew the statement to be false, but he couldn’t allow anyone to suspect an affair between the two of them. “There’s no preferential treatment happening.”
“I meant no offense, sir. But the safety of the men is my first concern, not the hurt feelings of a pampered Englishwoman.”
Phillip nearly laughed. Hurt feelings? Pampered? Eva was the toughest woman he’d ever met—and that included a Bowery boxer named Mad Maeve, who he’d once seen knock four teeth out of a man’s mouth. “This is not about feelings, Milliken. The woman is here to do a job, a job we need, I remind you, until her employer arrives. And you’ve said yourself, she is competent.”
“I just hope her employer arrives soon. I’m hearing rumblings from the men about a strike.”
Prickles swept over the back of Phillip’s neck. This had been his greatest fear in letting Eva stay on as Hyde’s representative. He leaned in closer. “Who in hell is talking about a strike?”
Milliken shifted, not meeting Phillip’s eye. “Some of the men. They are talking about walking off the job until she’s replaced.”
Christ, that would delay them for months. He had no intention of replacing Hyde or any other member of his team, so a strike would mean negotiating with the union or firing all the laborers—including Milliken. Phillip needed to shut this down, stall as long as he could until Hyde arrived. “There had better not be a goddamn strike—and if that’s a threat, I do not take kindly to them.”
“Very well.” Milliken’s expression remained sullen. He’d clearly hoped for a different outcome from today’s meeting, but Phillip couldn’t help that. This was his project and he wasn’t about to bend to ridiculous demands, no matter what happened.
“I know this is an unusual situation,” he told his general contractor. “But Hyde’s name on the hotel is integral to its success. Bear that in mind when you’re dealing with your men. Some moving pieces can be replaced, but Hyde isn’t one of them.”
“I understand.”
Milliken didn’t appear happy but Phillip wasn’t here to coddle the man. “Now, if that’s all . . . ?”
With a nod, Milliken rose and swiftly departed. Phillip stood and rolled his shoulders, the stress of the evening wearing heavily on him. Between Eva’s bizarre reaction earlier and Milliken’s thinly veiled threats, he needed to relieve some tension. Oh, and he couldn’t forget that he’d come inside Eva. He sighed, appalled at his own stupidity. He was always so careful, took every precaution with his partners. After what happened with Caroline, he never wanted to be uncertain as to a child’s parentage ever again.
Strange, though, that the thought of Eva heavy and round with his child did not ca
use him to break out in a cold sweat as with previous affairs. If she conceived he would be honorable and do the right thing. He could almost see the two of them together. Marriage to a woman such as her would never be dull, that was for certain.
Not that she would agree. No, the woman had run away from him faster than a fox with a pack of hounds on its heels. His fists clenched just remembering it.
He set out for the ballroom, determined to punch something.
The Saturday evening dinner crowd at Sherry’s contained table after table of the most well-dressed people in New York, with diamonds and ostrich feathers each way one turned. Everyone ate tiny delicacies and drank champagne, the atmosphere loud and raucous, like a posh circus. This was her first outing to the legendary restaurant and Eva couldn’t stop staring as she followed Nora to their dining table, Julius Hatcher directly behind them.
Once they were seated, she leaned over to her elegantly turned-out friend. “Are they all celebrating something?”
Julius snorted. “Yes, being wealthy and lazy.” Julius, Eva had learned, worked hard for his fortune, not having been born to a well-off family. The man rarely left his office, except to spend time with Nora, the two still posing as betrothed until their wedding this autumn.
Nora smirked at him. “You had your share of celebrations, my love. Let’s not forget how we met.”
He shook his head and tilted his gaze toward the ceiling. “A birthday party, once a year. She’ll never let me live it down.”
Nora glanced at Eva. “Don’t listen to him. One does not acquire a reputation such as my husband’s from one bacchanal a year. Regardless, this is a typical evening in New York. It’s quite gay all the time.”
No wonder Nora was so fond of her newfound city. Her friend craved excitement and fun. Eva was much the opposite, more serious, focused on architecture and overseeing her father’s projects. She’d never cared for the balls and soirées. The best part of her three betrothals had been the ability to skip all those tedious social events.
Was this chaos what Phillip enjoyed about New York as well? She hadn’t seen him since she climbed into a hack after their . . . encounter at Madison Square Garden the other night. His absence at the construction site turned out to be a blessing. She couldn’t think of him without her skin going up in flames.
Twice a week. Was the entire thing a mistake? She had agreed to intimacies but doubt had crept in since then. Stop acting like such a man, he’d told her. Well, why not? Men approached these things with distance and reason, not emotion and expectation. Should she not do the same to protect herself while enjoying their physical attraction?
Marriage was not in her future, but she did not need to give up companionship. Desire. Gratification. Phillip offered all those things and was committed to not siring any bastards on her. Why not take advantage of the opportunity? No man had ever affected her as he did . . .
If only he’d been a bit . . . gentler after the deed had concluded. That wasn’t asking too much, was it?
You want to work in a man’s world, Eva, then you must learn to act like a man. She could almost hear her father’s voice giving this advice, he’d said it so often.
So, no. She required no coddling, in either the affair or at the construction site.
But she would force him to promise the affair would not impact her role on the project. If one of them grew dissatisfied with the arrangement, she had to know those issues would remain separate from the work.
After all, the work came first.
The menus were delivered and Eva grasped hers eagerly, ready to take her mind off her employer. Julius asked for a bottle of champagne and Nora ordered nearly everything on the menu, saying Eva “positively must” try a bite of each dish.
After the champagne had been uncorked and served, Nora held up her glass in a toast. “To good friends and extended visits.”
“Here, here,” Julius said and clinked his glass to both of theirs.
Eva touched her glass with Nora’s. “An extended visit that is merely temporary.”
“Oh, of course,” her friend said, though the sparkle in her eyes suggested she didn’t quite believe it. “By the way, how was your visit with Mrs. Mansfield?”
Eva’s throat closed on a mouthful of champagne and she began choking. Nora patted her back delicately, no doubt enjoying catching Eva off guard. When she could breathe, Eva studied her friend’s sly expression. “How on earth did you know about that?”
“Our driver, of course.”
“She has all of Cortlands’ servants eating out of the palm of her hand,” Julius said. “They tell her everything.”
“True, so there’s no use in lying. Now what did Mrs. Mansfield wish to discuss with you?” Nora reached over and put a hand over her husband’s eyes so he couldn’t see. Phillip? she mouthed.
“No. She has need of an architect.”
Nora dropped her hand. “For?”
“She’s interested in adding on to her Newport home. The plans have been drawn up by a local firm but she’s unhappy with what’s been proposed.”
Julius shook his head. “The house is already huge, and rumor has it Mansfield’s forbidden the alterations altogether.”
It was Nora’s turn to be amazed. “Where did you hear that?”
“You are not the only well-informed one,” he said through a satisfied grin.
“The most knowledgeable hermit in New York City.” Nora patted his arm affectionately. “Now, Eva, how did you respond? Did you agree to get your father to help her?”
“Not exactly. She wants to hire me.”
“You?” Nora clutched Eva’s forearm. “You mean as yourself?”
“Yes.” She grinned, unable to hide her glee. “I was as surprised as you are.”
“It’s quite the coup, but what if your current employer has a problem with this? I would hate for you to jeopardize anything to do with the hotel project.”
The thought had occurred to Eva, but she honestly did not see how Phillip could complain. The two projects had nothing to do with one another—not that she had any intention of telling him. Let his mother share that news. “I’m not doing anything to jeopardize the hotel. Merely drawing up an idea for her to consider.”
“So what did you think of her?”
Eva considered this a moment, sifting through her impressions of Phillip’s mother. Mrs. Mansfield had acted entirely properly, with rigid politeness, but there was a steely determination underneath that Eva could relate to. “I liked her. She’s forthright and has a no-nonsense approach that I appreciate. And she’s intelligent. She had no difficulty in explaining the issues to me or following the discussion of possible problems.”
“Interesting,” Nora murmured before sipping her champagne.
“Do not get ideas, Nora.”
When Nora merely smiled cryptically, Julius stepped in. “I believe Nora is smirking because not many people in New York say positive things about Mrs. Mansfield. She’s rather terrifying, in a Lady Macbeth sort of way.”
“Lady Macbeth? That’s ridiculous. She’s hardly sinister. I sense she’s a lonely older woman who needs to keep busy.”
Food began arriving at that point, black-coated waiters arranging small plates for them to share. Champagne was refilled, napkins settled on laps. Eva surveyed the array of sausage, cheese, olives, caviar, and mackerel in white wine . . . Goodness, it all appeared delicious.
As they ate, no fewer than three gentlemen approached their table at various times to speak with Julius about the exchange, clearly fishing for tips on stocks. Eva leaned over to her friend during the third visit. “How does he stand it?”
“He hates it, truth be told. He tolerates them for my sake, but I think it’s one of the reasons he hardly leaves the house anymore.”
How . . . sad. She remembered going out with her father and people stopping him to ask for unsolicited advice. Free consulting, her father used to call it. As she started to relate that to Nora, she noticed movement o
n the stairs near the front door. A tall man with light brown hair was leading a woman up the stairs toward the private dining salons. Phillip.
She froze and watched his long legs easily handle the steps as he smiled down at the woman in an open and warm manner. He seemed . . . enraptured. Completely engrossed in her. Eva knew the look well, as he’d given her the same smile two nights ago.
“That is Miss Rebecca Hall.”
Eva did not take her eyes from the pair. “I suppose he’s taking her to dinner.”
“Yes, it appears so. Those are her parents directly behind them. I hear their families are keen on a match between the two.”
Eva’s stomach dropped somewhere on the dining room floor, then she chastised herself for the reaction. He meant nothing to her, merely a pleasant distraction from the loneliness of staying in a new city. Phillip would get two nights of her time each week and beyond that, they would lead their own lives. She had no hold over the man.
Besides, she couldn’t afford to care about someone who lived an ocean away. Her father and her life were back in England. She had every intention of returning as soon as possible. The other night didn’t mean anything. You both have responsibilities and expectations that do not include the other.
“What happened? What did I miss?” Julius had concluded his conversation and turned back to the table.
Nora tipped her chin toward the stairs. “Mansfield’s just arrived with Miss Hall and her parents.”
“Oh, yes?” He craned his neck to see the front entrance but the couple had already disappeared. “I know her father. Family made their money in shipping some years back. She seems like a nice enough girl. Oof!” The table rattled at Julius’s grunt. “Why’d you kick me?” he asked his wife.
“Because not everyone wants to hear you sing the praises of other women.” Nora flicked her gaze toward Eva.
“Oh, I don’t mind,” Eva quickly said. “I’m certain she is a lovely person. It doesn’t bother me at all. Honestly.”
“Thou doth protest too much, methinks,” Nora noted.
