Ryan thought, then gave a slow smile. “A martini. I’ll have a dry martini with two olives.”
“I’ll have that for you in a jiffy,” he said and disappeared.
Helene settled back in her chair and crossed her legs. “So, a suite at the Essex Midtown? That must be some colleague. Anyone I know?”
“It’s not like that, Helene. He’s a pain and it’s just business.
Helene smiled. “Ah, so it is a he. Come on kid, don’t hold out on me.”
Ryan hesitated, eyeing her.
“Come on, Ryan, spill it. I know all your other deep, dark secrets. Why stop just when it’s getting good?”
“Oh, all right. But I’m telling you, you’re not going to believe this one.” Sighing, she started with the meeting at Beckman Markham, watching Helene’s eyebrows go higher and higher with each twist. “So then it turned out that the hotel had screwed up the reservations and I had the choice of his suite or a room across town.”
“And you believed that?”
“The hotel verified it this afternoon,” Ryan said defensively, looking around for the waiter. Where was her drink? “In the grand scheme of things it’s not nearly as ridiculous as some of the other things that have happened recently. I should face it, my life has turned into a seriocomedy.”
“Or a romantic comedy.”
“Give me a break, Helene.” She raked her hair back with impatient fingers. “He drives me crazy, and anyway, I’ve got to work with the guy. I’d be out of my mind to sleep with him again now, even assuming I wanted to.”
“Which you do.”
“Okay, maybe I’ve thought about it,” she acknowledged. “But nothing’s going to happen.”
Helene shook her head. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”
“I would.” But Ryan’s mind vaulted down forbidden pathways, imagining moonlight streaming through the windows as she opened the connecting door to Cade’s room. And ran smack into his door. Okay, so it was her fantasy. Little details like architecture were negotiable. In her fantasy there was only one door, and she was dressed in a transparent scrap of negligee that ended at midthigh, standing in the moonlight and reaching out to turn the handle—”
“Earth to Ryan.” Helene waved her hand in front of Ryan’s eyes.
“Sorry, I got distracted.” Ryan shook her head, then smiled at Helene. “It’s good to see you. I was beginning to think that you had just become a voice on the phone.”
“Not me, I’m one hundred percent here in the flesh.” Helene turned to look for the waiter, then turned back to her. “You’re looking great, kid. What are you, taking special vitamins?”
“Nope. Just fresh air and clean living.” Ryan took a closer look at Helene. “You know, you look pretty good yourself.” Despite the garish red hair and the lines carved in her face by smoking, Helene had a buoyancy to her that had been missing the last time they’d been together. “What’s your secret?”
“Oh, polluted air and clean living,” Helene said airily. “With some honest to goodness canoodling thrown in.” She gave a bawdy wink.
Ryan’s jaw dropped. “Helene. Tell me you didn’t go to the gig—”
“Escort,” Helene cut in, unoffended. “No, I’ve actually got a volunteer, believe it or not. He owns the company that installed my hot tub. You know, something kept telling me I needed to get that tub.” She gave a deep laugh.
“Oh my god, Helene, you’ve got a boyfriend!” For the five years Ryan had known her, Helene had been single and steadfastly devoted to the memory of her late husband. She’d always dodged any questions about dating, maintaining that she’d had her run and that was that. Apparently her opinion had changed.
“I figured I’d been a widow long enough,” she confirmed. “I’m sure that H.L., God rest his soul, approves.”
“What’s his name?”
“Leo. Leo Morelli.”
The waiter appeared with their drinks. “Sorry for the delay, ladies. It’s a madhouse in here tonight. Let’s see, we had a chardonnay?” He handed the wine to Helene. “And a martini, dry, two olives.” He settled the bill rapidly and whisked off into the crowd.
Ryan leaned closer to be heard over the hubbub and raised her glass. “Well, here’s to hot tubs.”
Helene winked. “And everything that comes with them.”
They clinked glasses, and Ryan settled back in her chair and crossed her legs. “So, tell me about Leo.”
Helene’s eyes softened and for a moment she looked almost girlish. “He’s as good as they come. He’s a little rough but he’s kind. He makes me laugh.” She took a sip of her wine. “He…surprises me,” she said slowly. “That’s the biggest drawback about being alone, you know. You can’t surprise yourself. Everything becomes too predictable.” She smiled at some private memory.
“He sounds great,” Ryan said enviously. “Does he have a brother?”
Helene snorted. “One to a customer, kid. You’ve already got a fellow.”
“Cade Douglas is not my fellow,” she said emphatically.
“For not being your fellow, he spends an awful lot of time with you.” Helene studied her judiciously. “He’s on your mind.”
“So’s a headache.” Ryan waved her hand, dismissing the topic, and picked up her martini again. “Let’s have a better toast. To Leo Morelli, long may he wave.” She clinked glasses with Helene and raised her drink to her lips.
“Martinis can be dangerous, you know,” Cade’s voice came from behind her just as she swallowed. Surprise had her choking on the liquid.
“Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to surprise people?” she asked between coughs, then coughed some more when she caught Helene’s wink.
“No, mine was bigger on teaching me to use the right forks at dinner. Why don’t you introduce me to your friend?” Cade asked, nodding at Helene, who was watching avidly.
Ryan cleared her throat and took a cautious sip of her drink. “Um, Cade, this is Helene Frost. Helene, this is Cade Douglas. A colleague.”
“The one with the suite?” Helene’s eyes were bright with speculation.
“That would be me. And you’re the dinner date?”
“You got it.”
They sized each other up and grinned entirely too companionably for Ryan’s taste. “Well, so much for introductions,” she said briskly. “Don’t let us keep you, Cade. I’m sure you’ve got plans.”
He shrugged, studying the display of scotches over the bar. “Not really. I’m sort of at loose ends for tonight. I figured I’d stop in here and scare up a drink before I go find dinner.”
“Oh, gee, that’s too bad. Well, see you tomo—”
“Why don’t you eat with us?” Helene asked genially, ignoring Ryan’s laser glare. “You’ve got time for a drink before we go, if you grab yourself a seat.”
“Well…” He hesitated, then deviltry crept into his eyes. “All right, don’t mind if I do,” he said, ferreting out an empty chair in the crowded room and bringing it over.
“I’m going to the ladies’ room,” Ryan muttered in disgust. Let them get bored with each other. After his behavior that afternoon, the last thing she wanted to do was spend any more time with him.
Cade stopped in the middle of ordering a drink to watch her go. She definitely had legs worth watching, he thought, blessing the inventor of the miniskirt.
“So what do you do when you’re not impersonating a gigolo?” Helene spoke without preamble.
Cade winced. “I see our storyteller has been practicing her craft.”
“I’m her agent. I was the one who had the service ripping me a new one because Ryan had stood up their best boy.”
“Ah. That would make you the one who arranged for the meeting in the first place,” he said, eyeing her steadily.
“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Helene said mildly. “Ryan’s an adult. It was her decision to do it.”
And do it she did, Cade thought to himself, flashing briefly on the feel of Ryan’s naked
body against him.
“So yes, I had the agency rep screaming at me about her not showing up just before I had Ryan on the phone all giddy telling me how wonderful the fellow they’d sent was.”
Guilt pricked at him. He hadn’t intended to, but he’d hurt her, and that was difficult to live with. “And your point?”
Helene’s gaze chilled to ice. “Ryan’s one of my nearest and dearest. You mess with my people, you mess with me.” She took a strong draw on her cigarette and blew smoke to the ceiling. “And despite my soft, girlish exterior, believe me, buddy boy, you don’t want to mess with me.”
Cade eyed her a moment. “Now Helene, why would a stand-up guy like me want to mess with your people?”
Helene stared at him for a moment, then humor crept back into her eyes. “Good. Then we’ll get along.” She took a sip of her wine. “So what do you have planned for our girl?”
Cade blinked. “Is this like the part where the father with the shotgun asks my intentions?”
“Possibly, though Ryan has a daddy of her own who’s probably quite capable of taking after you with a shotgun if you’ve got it coming to you.” Helene blew a few smoke rings to amuse herself. “I’m just asking because I’m her friend and I’d like to see her happy and not jerked around. So what do you have planned for her?”
Cade frowned. “We’re working together. Right now, I’d say I don’t have much of anything planned for her.”
“That’s what she says, too.”
“I guess you have your answer, then.”
“You’re going to let a skinny little thing like her do all the deciding for you? I’d say an enterprising young fellow like yourself could turn her ideas around if he was of a mind to.”
It was a good thing his drink had appeared. He took a good, solid swig, letting the bourbon slide down his throat. “I have yet to figure out whether I’m of a mind to. Is that what you’re suggesting?”
“I’m suggesting that you’d better act fast if you’re going to act at all. Ryan’s one in a million, but she’s been living in the background until now. Being with you was good for her—it woke her up. And people are noticing.” She turned to watch as Ryan walked back into the bar, past a table of men whose heads swung in unison to watch her. “She’s not hiding her looks anymore. If I were you, I’d figure out whether I wanted to go after her before the decision got taken out of my hands.”
Cade gave Helene an opaque look. “Look, I know your intentions are good, but—”
“Hey,” she raised her hands in front of her. “Just some advice from an old broad. It’s worth exactly what you paid for it.” She tapped her cigarette against the ashtray and gave a wary glance toward Ryan, who was now a few feet away. “So, this your first time to Manhattan?” she asked in a voice that was artificial and carrying.
They looked thick as thieves, Ryan thought as she walked up, and the guilty grins on their faces suggested they’d been talking about something besides sightseeing. “So have you finished dissecting me? Is it safe to come back?”
“Don’t be like that, kid,” Helene flapped a hand at her. “You know how it is when you just meet someone. You look for the things you’ve got in common. In this case, we started off with you, and now we’re on to New York.”
“Glad the topic’s changed,” Ryan muttered. She wished, how she wished that she could get out of this. The two sides of her life were colliding, and the result could be disaster. And anyway, she wasn’t at all happy that they seemed to be getting on like old friends, trading notes on favorite hangouts. Just her luck that he had gone to Columbia for his MBA, Ryan thought sourly. The tiny hope she’d held out that he’d get bored and cry off dinner seemed to be shrinking by the second. In which case, she thought resignedly, they might as well move things along and get it over with. The sooner they got done eating, the sooner she could get back to her room. And lie awake, to think about Cade next door. “So, when’s dinner?”
Helene glanced at her watch. “Our reservation’s in about twenty-five minutes. That do you, Mr. D?”
“Sure,” he said easily.
“Good. Then we should roll.” She got up to leave and gasped in surprise. “Leo!”
Ryan blinked as a graying man with a lived-in face wrapped his arms around Helene. He gave her a soft kiss and brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face before turning toward Ryan and Cade.
Helene’s cheeks quickly tinted pink and clashed with her hair. “Ryan, Cade, I’d like you to meet Leo Morelli. Leo, this is Ryan, the one I’ve told you so much about, and her friend Cade.”
“Pleasure to meet you.” Leo nodded at Ryan and shook hands with Cade.
Ryan scanned his face, liking what she saw. He had a weathered look, a bit like a nightclub bouncer, but the wrinkles on his face were from laughing, not from frowning. His eyes were clear and steady, and softened when he looked at Helene.
Helene laughed delightedly. “I thought you were playing poker tonight.”
“Oh, you know…” Leo shrugged. “I cancelled. I can see those guys anytime. I wanted to meet your friend, and I wanted to see you.” He gave Helene a squeeze and looked around for a chair. In the crowded bar, there wasn’t another one to be had. He turned back with a roguish grin, then sat in her empty chair and pulled her giggling onto his lap.
Ryan choked on the last of her martini.
“Are you okay?” Leo asked, his arms around a beaming Helene.
Cade thumped Ryan’s back. “She has this problem with martinis.”
“It’s a sad thing to see a drinking problem in such a young thing.” Leo shook his head in high good humor. He glanced around the crowded bar. “So how’s your convention going? These folks look like a barrel of laughs.”
“I think I saw someone snickering over by the bar when I first came in,” Cade returned, deadpan, “but I think they threw him out.”
Leo grinned. “This your first time in the Big Apple?”
“Cade here is practically a local,” Helene answered for him. “He’s lived here before.”
“Welcome back. Where do you live now?”
“Boston.”
Leo’s eyes narrowed. “Sox fan?”
Cade nodded. “To the death. Yankee fan?”
“Since I was born.”
There was a short silence while the two gave each other flinty stares from opposite sides of the oldest rivalry in baseball. Leo broke first, with a contagious laugh that had Cade joining in.
“Okay, so baseball’s off-limits,” Cade said.
“Good idea,” Leo agreed. “So where are we going for dinner?”
“Little Kashmir,” Helene said, checking her watch again. “And we have to go if we’re going to make our reservations.”
“Little Kashmir?” Leo asked with a grin for Helene. “Did you warn them what they’re in for?”
“Hottest curries I’ve ever had in my life. That all right with you, kid?”
Ryan nodded slowly. She was all for Indian food, she just wasn’t so hot on this sudden buddy-buddy thing they all had going.
Helene got up off of Leo’s lap. “Come on, then, drink up and let’s go.”
Outside the hotel, a breeze caught at Ryan’s skirt as she stepped into the cab, flashing a glimpse of black lace to anyone on the block, she thought in mortification as she slapped the fabric down and scooted onto the seat.
Cade slid in next to her. “Nice gams, Donnelly,” he murmured into her ear, settling his arm around her shoulders.
Face flaming, Ryan smoothed her skirt down as Leo gave directions to the cab driver.
“So you’re Ryan’s agent?” Cade asked Helene.
“You betcha. And I’m here to tell you, this kid’s got the goods.”
“I know. I read part of her last manuscript. She spins a pretty sexy yarn.”
Helene’s eyebrows rose. “Really? Ryan didn’t tell me she’d shown it to anyone.”
“You can stop talking about me as if I weren’t here,” Ryan put in.
&n
bsp; “I picked it up when she wasn’t looking,” Cade continued, ignoring Ryan’s words.
“Do tell,” Helene said, her eyes flicking to her client. “And here I thought you two just worked together.”
“Close collaboration always improves team performance,” Cade said blandly.
“I can imagine. Well, you’d better collaborate with her while you can, because she’s getting serious about her writing.”
“Really.” Cade gave Ryan a long, speculative glance. “That’s interesting. She didn’t mention that.”
“Cade doesn’t need to hear all about my writing hobby, Helene,” Ryan put in, trying to subtly head off a potentially disastrous disclosure.
“Hobby, hell. You know yourself that when that multibook deal comes through you’re going to say goodbye to teaching Quark for dummies. I say more power to you.”
Ryan’s mouth dropped open, but there was nothing she could think of to say. Helene had already said it all.
“So you’re going to be quitting any day, huh?” Cade looked at her consideringly. “Nice of you to let us know.”
“Helene’s exaggerating,” Ryan said uncomfortably, just as the cab pulled to a stop.
They got out at a storefront restaurant where ropes of jingling brass charms screened the door. Passing through the portal was like walking into another land where sitar music played quietly in the background, exotic spices perfumed the air, and rich tapestries adorned the walls. A dark-eyed, lovely woman clad in a paprika-colored sari led them to a table.
Ryan cleared her throat. “Cade, could you step into the bar for a moment? We need to talk.”
He eyed her steadily. “I think that’s a good idea.”
They walked under a stone arch into a cavelike room. Cade slid onto a stool and nodded to the bartender. “Sam Adams, please.” He glanced inquiringly at Ryan, who nodded. “Make that two.”
Ryan looked at Cade uneasily. She moistened her lips. “I know what you must be thinking, but it’s not the way it sounds.”
“Just exactly how is it?”
Honesty or diplomacy? That was the question. “Helene’s a little confused,” Ryan began. “I’m not going to…” Her voice trailed off. Somehow the false assurances wouldn’t come out. The two of them had connected the day before. She owed him more than false platitudes.
My Sexiest Mistake Page 13
