He held up the photo before him, tapping his chin as he examined the radiant bride, the devastatingly handsome groom. Kat didn’t have to look; that picture from her wedding day was burned into her memory.
“How interesting,” Fritz said. “You still have his picture.”
“So what?” Kat plucked the framed photo from Fritz’s hand, stuffed it back in the drawer. “It’s just a good picture of me, so I kept it.”
A crafty light brightened his blue eyes. “Uh-huh.”
“Never mind.” Kat shoved the drawer shut with her hip, then tugged on her jacket. “I have to go. We’ll deal with your employment status later.”
“Of course, of course. After all, I’ve got work to do.” He giggled, then with a skip in his step he crossed to the door and opened it for Kat.
Suspicion blossomed inside her. “What work?”
He flicked his fingers in an airy wave. “You know, community affairs stuff.” He laughed and unease did another two-step in Kat’s stomach.
She narrowed her gaze on him. “Look, Fritz, just hold off doing anything until we have a chance to talk.”
He just smiled, stepping in behind her as she slipped through the door. “See you later, Cuz.”
“Wait!” Kat tried to grab his sleeve, but he moved too quickly. “Fritz, did you hear me? Don’t do anything!”
He winked as he passed Norma’s desk, then disappeared around a corner into the hallway. Kat felt a sudden sympathy for Pandora when she opened the box.
Norma looked up at Kat with a wistful smile on her matronly face. “My, that boy has grown.”
“Go after him,” Kat told her. “See what he’s up to. I’ve got to get to the marketing meeting.”
“Sure thing, Kat,” Norma said, quickly rising from her desk. “I’ll take care of it.”
As Norma hurried after Fritz, Kat worried her lower lip. What was she going to do about her cousin? She couldn’t just fire him. That wouldn’t be fair to Fritz, not to mention how it might hurt her father’s feelings. It had been so hard for him to retire, Kat didn’t want to discourage him from giving input into how Roth should be run. But to hire Hurricane Fritz without asking her first strayed far beyond the bit of fatherly advice he usually dispensed.
There must be some way to handle the situation without ruffling anyone’s feathers. But as she headed down the hallway to the elevators, she couldn’t seem to put two thoughts together. Between seeing her dratted ex-husband with a blonde and unearthing a wedding picture she should have tossed long ago, her mind was mush.
Her thoughts kept circling back to the photo of her wedding day, to the joy suffusing her face. Why the hell had she kept the picture? Because she hadn’t had the heart to throw away the only reminder of such a happy day?
But it was exactly that day that was the beginning of the end for her and Mark. If anything, the picture was a harbinger of the bad times to come. It drove home the reality that happiness couldn’t be trusted, that marriages were fragile, ephemeral things.
She really ought to toss the photo, to purge her life of all reminders of Mark Denham. She vowed to take care of it the moment she returned from the marketing meeting.
But as she stepped into the elevator, she knew in her heart of hearts she would keep the picture. If only she could figure out why.
* * * * *
Mark Denham leaned back in his office chair, scanning the March reports from his sales force. The southeastern division had recorded record sales, especially in Florida, and projected a truly phenomenal Mother’s Day return. Marketing had outdone themselves with their latest advertising campaign and production was turning out a tremendous volume of Mother’s Day Kits for Mom, specialty boxes of chocolates in beautiful floral shapes.
He should be ecstatic. He ought to be turning handsprings in his office in delight. The business picture for Denham Candy Company couldn’t be rosier. Then why the hell did he feel so empty?
He could answer that in two words: Kat Denham. It had hit him hard today seeing her at Starbucks. At least he’d thought it was Kat. He’d only caught a glimpse, but what he saw had been achingly familiar. The slender neck exposed by the short cut of her hair, the set of her narrow shoulders in the ill-fitting gray suit, her trim calves. In the moment it took him to excuse himself from Lydia, the newest member of Denham’s sales force, the woman in the gray suit had disappeared.
Leaving him with this roiling in his gut that still hadn’t eased. He couldn’t remember one word Lydia had said as he’d rushed her through their quick lunch. He’d turned the woman over to his VP of sales the moment he’d returned to Denham headquarters. Holed up in his office ever since, he’d fought a losing battle to banish Kat Denham from his mind.
Of course, her name wasn’t Kat Denham anymore. She’d resumed using her maiden name the moment they’d separated. It had cut like a knife when he heard she’d taken back the Roth name so quickly, despite the brevity of their marriage. He really couldn’t expect her to continue to call herself Denham, especially when Denham and Roth were such fierce competitors in the candy-making business. But that one act seemed to sever completely the link between them.
Tossing aside the sales report, he removed his wire-rimmed reading glasses and rubbed at his eyes. Damn, they should have just stayed friends. Why did he have to go and propose to her after fifteen years of perfectly good friendship? Had it been lust? He could still remember the day she’d returned to Seattle after five years away, with a brand-new MBA from Stanford. At twenty-six, she took his breath away, her willowy beauty like a punch to the gut. He managed to keep his hands off her for two years, keeping up the front of friendship when all he wanted to do was get her into bed.
But he’d loved her when he’d proposed, hadn’t he? It sure as hell had seemed like love. But compared to the blissful peace his own parents had enjoyed for nearly forty years, his marriage to Kat had been more like a war zone. Obviously there was some crucial element to love he didn’t understand.
So he’d lost a friend as well as a wife when their marriage failed. And even now, two years later, he couldn’t seem to go a day without thinking of her.
He glanced at his Rolex. Ten after five. All afternoon he’d had to squelch the urge to call her, just to see how she was, how things were going for her.
His phone buzzed and he picked it up, grateful for the distraction. “Yes?”
Rod, his gruff-voiced admin assistant, growled into the phone, “Someone’s here to see you.”
His heart galloped into overdrive as his mind leapt to a hasty conclusion. Kat! It had been her at Starbucks, and now she was stopping by to say hello. Schooling his voice to neutrality, he asked, “Who is it?”
There was a pause, then Rod answered, his voice low. “Your cousin, Fritz.”
Fritz! Even as Mark thrust aside his disappointment that it wasn’t Kat, he was searching his office for an avenue of escape. “Does he need money?”
Retired military who’d been with Denham’s for six years, Rod was a veteran of the Fritz wars. He spoke in a near whisper. “Don’t think so. He’s wearing some fancy designer suit.”
Curiouser and curiouser. Last he’d heard, Fritz had been booted out of USC, his fourth ejection in as many years. Mark sighed and gave in to the inevitable. “Send him in.”
When Fritz first walked into his office, Mark’s polite smile faltered a moment. The suit was Armani, the young man’s hair neatly styled, but something haunted the depths of his bright blue eyes. Then Fritz grinned and the darkness vanished.
“Hi, Mark.” He stretched his arm across the desk to shake Mark’s hand.
Fritz shook vigorously, in the process upsetting a foot-high model of Buddy next to Mark’s in-box. Buddy and in-box threatened to tumble over the edge, requiring quick action from Mark to save them from disaster.
Mark scooped the endangered items closer to his side of the desk. “Hey, good to see you, Fritz.” Sitting back down, he gestured to a visitor’s chair. “What can I do for you?”
&nbs
p; Fritz seated himself without incident and flashed Mark a toothy smile. “I’m here on behalf of Roth Confectionery. I’m their new community affairs advisor.”
Mark’s bonhomie faded. “Did Kat send you over here?”
“In a manner of speaking.” Fritz tipped his chair onto its back legs, banging into the bookshelf behind him. “Roth is starting up a new fund-raising campaign for local charities. And they’d like Denham Candy to participate.”
“Participate?” Mark’s gaze narrowed on Fritz. “How?”
“By joining forces in the campaign.” Fritz’s patter would have made a politician proud. “We call it ‘Kandy for Kids’ since most of the earmarked charities benefit children. And if Seattle’s two biggest candy rivals join hands in this campaign, we have a lock on significant media interest.”
Fritz’s earnest smile never waned under Mark’s scrutiny. “You say Kat sent you here?”
Fritz didn’t even blink. “I’m sure you know Kat is a big booster for local causes.”
He did indeed, having encountered her at a few of the charity events he’d attended. Chance meetings were difficult enough to handle; inevitably either she or he would leave early to avoid each other’s extended presence. But to intentionally choose to be in the same place at the same time with Kat Roth...that would be lunacy.
Yet how could he say no? “Which charities had you planned to support?”
Fritz named several that Mark knew were Kat’s favorite nonprofits. Coincidentally, more than a few were the same organizations Mark endorsed.
Legs crossed, Fritz bounced a foot and nearly clipped a corner of the in box. “So what do you say?”
Mark tried to think. It sounded like a worthy endeavor. But how could he become involved without Kat turning his life upside down again? His sense of self-preservation kicked in, offering him an out. He smiled at Fritz. “Denham will be glad to take part. My VP of human resources will be at your disposal.”
“No, no.” Fritz rose to his feet, and the chair fell backwards to the floor. A bonsai on the bookshelf behind Fritz shook ominously. “You have to do it yourself. Kat is taking time out of her busy schedule for the campaign. If Denham’s CEO doesn’t reciprocate...”
Fritz didn’t have to finish. If Denham Candy didn’t participate to the same extent as Roth Confectionery, Denham would come off looking like the bad guy. “You have a point,” Mark agreed reluctantly. “Count me in, then. Just let me know where and when.”
Nearly dancing in his apparent relief, Fritz outlined the plans Roth had already conceived for the Kandy for Kids campaign. A two-man scull race on Lake Union with Seattle-area businesses participating, a pre-game celebrity softball game at SAFECO Field, a family picnic for underprivileged kids. “Kat thought you two could meet for dinner tonight to hash out the details.”
Meet Kat? For dinner? Just the two of them? “I don’t know...”
“We’ll be in touch.” Fritz danced over to the door, suddenly in a hurry to leave. “Talk to you soon.”
He ducked out of the office before Mark could say another word. A few moments later, there was a knock at the door. Was Fritz back? “Come in,” Mark called.
Rod stepped inside, his beefy frame filling the doorway. “I’m about to leave. Mind telling me what that was all about?”
Bemused, Mark raked a hand through his hair. “Denham’s will be participating in a new fund-raising campaign. Kandy for Kids.”
“And?” Rod pressed.
“It’s a joint effort.” Mark shook his head, still wondering how he’d gotten himself hornswoggled. “With Roth Confectionery.” He raised his gaze to Rod. “With Kat Roth.”
Rod’s brow rose speculatively, but he didn’t say a word. He didn’t mention the number of times Mark had told his assistant he would never get tangled up in anything related to his ex-wife. Rod also didn’t expound upon his bizarre theory that Mark still loved Kat. The older man just flashed Mark a smirk and backed out of the office.
But Mark could hear Rod’s booming laughter all the way down the hall as he left.
Chapter 2
Sinking into her desk chair, Kat stared unbelieving at her administrative assistant. “You lent him your car?”
Amazingly, Norma blushed, the color taking a decade off her forty-some years. “He needed it to go down to Denham’s. To talk to Mark. About the new fund-raising campaign.”
Alice and her rabbit hole had nothing on Kat in that moment. She pressed her hands to her desktop, on either side of her shadow cast by the setting sun. She wished she could fly away from here, away from troublesome ex-husbands and pesky ex- cousins-in-law. If she could, she’d follow the sun’s orange glow clear back to its source.
Dropping her hands into her lap, she looked up at Norma. “Let’s assume I just spent the last four hours in a grueling meeting with marketing.” Which she had, and had the scars to prove it. “Let’s assume I haven’t the slightest notion what you’re talking about. Then explain it all from the beginning.”
Norma began to look a little unsure of herself as she stood opposite Kat’s desk. “You asked me to keep tabs on Fritz.”
“Yes. That much I remember.”
“He told me you’d just hired him on as community affairs advisor.”
Kat scowled. “I didn’t hire him. My father did.” She waved a hand at Norma. “Go on.”
The older woman settled herself on the edge of a visitor chair. “Fritz told me about Kandy for Kids.”
“Kandy for Kids?”
“The fund-raising campaign.”
Kat was about to ask, “What fund-raising campaign?” then decided against it. It would only prolong the agony. “Continue.”
The rest spilled out in a flurry of words. “Fritz said Kandy for Kids would be a joint effort between Roth and Denham and he needed to go down the street to talk to Mark. So I lent him my car.”
The blush was back in Norma’s cheeks and she sat ramrod- straight in her chair. Bad enough she gave Fritz the keys to her car. That she did so to provide him transportation to the enemy stronghold amounted to insurgency.
Norma’s gaze dropped to her lap. “I thought you knew all this.”
If it were anyone else, Kat would have torn strips off them for putting her in this position. But not Norma, a sweet, loving woman whose self-esteem had taken enough of a beating when her husband left her five years ago for some sweet young thing.
“Of course I knew, Norma,” Kat lied, her tone even despite the turmoil inside her. “Just not the details. Is Fritz back yet?” Might as well lay blame on the shoulders that deserved it.
At the mention of Fritz, Norma smiled. “No. He’s only been gone an hour.”
With a sigh, Kat turned her chair slightly to look out the window. The fat ball of the sun, its red-gold face striated with wispy clouds, hung over the city beyond Lake Union. Below her, commuter traffic moved slowly along Fairview. One of those cars could be Mark’s. He could be driving along right now, muttering under his breath about what Kat had roped him into this time.
She’d have to call him. Even though the thought of hearing his voice again set off a wrangling in the pit of her stomach, she’d call him, tell him the whole thing was a joke. A late April Fool’s prank. He’d be irritated as hell. But Kat had long ago given up hope of getting along with Mark.
Norma intruded on her reverie. “Where did you want me to make reservations for dinner?”
She bumped along down the rabbit hole again, confusion whirling inside her. “Dinner?”
Before Norma could enlighten Kat, the phone rang, tweaking her nerves even further. She snatched it up and barked out a hello.
The voice that answered was full of reproach. “Katarina, how can you talk to your mother like that?”
Kat rubbed at the tension between her eyes. “I didn’t know it was you, Mom.”
“So you talk to your clients that way?”
Ten, nine, eight, seven... deep long breath. “No, Mom. How are you?”
�
��Fine. Wonderful. Oh, Tony’s been having a little back trouble, but other than that, everything is peachy.”
“Mom, I’m kind of in the middle of something. Could I call you back later?”
“No need. We’ll just talk to you tonight at dinner.”
Why did everyone seem to know about this except her? “Look, Mom, about dinner—”
Fritz chose that moment to return, barreling into Kat’s office with a wide grin and wind-tossed hair. Norma lit up like a Christmas tree at the young man’s appearance, setting off warning bells inside Kat.
Her mother reclaimed her attention. “You’re right. We’ll be too busy planning the Kandy for Kids campaign to chat.”
Good God, the situation got more complex by the moment. “That’s exactly what I need to talk to you about.”
“We’ll just have to set another time to have a little chat. See you tonight.” Her mother hung up before Kat could utter another word.
She’d no more set down the phone than the door swung open again and her father strode in, his compact body bristling with energy. “Hi, love, sorry to interrupt,” he called out before rounding her desk to give her a peck on the cheek. “Just wanted to let you know Patti and I can make it tonight.”
A sudden, vivid image of a steamroller popped into Kat’s mind, its bulk rumbling inexorably toward her. “Now, wait a minute, Dad—”
“I have to say, Katarina, I’m thrilled to see you extending an olive branch to Mark this way. And for such a good cause.” He turned and smiled at Fritz, stuck out his hand. “How are you doing, son?”
When the phone rang again, Kat eyed it with trepidation. The Seattle Mariners, maybe, calling to RSVP for dinner?
Her moment of whimsy did nothing to prepare her for Mark’s deep voice on the other end of the line. “Hello? Kat?”
For a long moment, she couldn’t speak. The chatter between Norma, Fritz and her father faded, her world narrowing and centering on the phone in her hand. “Hello, Mark.”
He paused, too, as if caught in the throes of the same memories. “Where are we meeting tonight? For dinner.”
Sweet Dream Lover Page 2
