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April Snow (Dana McGarry Series Book 2)

Page 16

by Lynn Steward


  Your friend,

  Dana

  Dana addressed and sealed the envelope before going upstairs to change for work. Once in her room, she fell backwards onto the bed, arms spread wide. She was happy—incredibly so, in fact—just as she told Father Macaulay. Her work and personal life were coming into sharp focus. They were indeed balanced, and she could hardly wait to see what the months ahead would bring. She supposed that Johnny would be very disappointed when she informed him that she wouldn’t be joining the House of Cirone. Between Mark’s support and Irwin’s enthusiasm, she didn’t see how The British Shop could fail, and she had all but abandoned the idea of working for Uncle John without having closed the door completely on the move. Helen seemed like a minor obstacle now that she would be able to actually show Bob finished samples manufactured by Irwin. She wanted to get started and, with Mark behind her, she felt certain that the preliminary steps at Bauer & Sons would be quickly set in motion.

  Dana closed her eyes to savor the moment, feeling a peace and contentment that had eluded her for years.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Brett had been informed that opposing counsel for his case in San Francisco had been granted another continuance, allowing him to remain in New York for a few extra weeks. He would consult on some of the firm’s current cases, but he would also have time on his hands. Perhaps, he thought, he and Janice could have a romantic holiday in the city that was still in his blood. California represented an interesting lifestyle, but it was going to be temporary, and Janice needed to learn how to enjoy the rhythms of New York. Janice, however, had been somewhat distant since arriving in town and had continued to ask more questions about Brett’s whereabouts on any given day. She also continued to ask an inordinate number of questions about Dana’s activities, questions that Brett honestly couldn’t answer. He decided to relieve some of the tension from their last conversation by asking Johnny Cirone to play squash at the New York Athletic Club. He’d helped Johnny the previous year to extricate himself from a disastrous engagement to Suzanne Farnsworth, a young woman whose family had gotten him entangled in questionable business dealings with a subsidiary of its textile company. Johnny had therefore chosen not to take sides when Dana sought a divorce since Brett had been instrumental in saving him from possible indictment on a number of charges that could have ruined his reputation and career. He was more than willing to take time from his work to accept Brett’s invitation.

  They met at the club on Wednesday morning and, after exchanging pleasantries, played three matches, with Brett taking the last two handily.

  “California life must agree with you,” Johnny joked as they got dressed in the locker room. “Hell, you’re in better shape now than when you first went out there.”

  “There’s a totally different lifestyle on the West Coast” Brett explained. “For one thing, I’m out of the office most days by six, so I’m on the court at least four nights a week. I even squeeze in a little tennis and am trying my hand at golf. Say, why don’t we catch up and have lunch here at the club. Unless you’re needed back at work.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Johnny replied. “I’m free until two. Our chief designer has the house going at full speed ever since she came back from Europe, and I could use a break since I’ve been putting in six days a week. We’re planning to test a younger line with our collection next spring, which is why I wish Dana would finally agree to come on board.”

  Brett was slipping on his coat jacket but stopped abruptly, an arm in the air, when Johnny mentioned Dana.

  “Really?” Brett said. “I hadn’t heard about that. Why don’t you fill me in at lunch?”

  “Well, it came up rather suddenly,” Johnny said, having second thoughts about mentioning Dana at all.

  Brett finished slipping on his jacket and waved off Johnny’s remark. “Hey, even though I don’t know the details, I think joining the House of Cirone would be a great change for Dana.”

  Brett and Johnny went to the club’s dining room and ordered. Brett’s curiosity about Dana had been piqued for the second time since he’d gotten home, and as the two men ate, he realized that a golden opportunity had fallen into his lap. There would be no need to pay a private investigator since Johnny could probably tell him chapter and verse about Dana’s life. Maybe he could finally answer some of Janice’s probing questions.

  “Is Dana having problems at B. Altman?” Brett asked. “You mentioned that the job offer came up suddenly.”

  “I offered her a position—my father wants her to be fashion director—when I heard that Helen was giving her a hard time again about some idea for a boutique.”

  Brett nodded matter-of-factly. The more nonchalant he acted, the more likely Johnny would be to keep volunteering information. As a lawyer, he learned long ago to let people talk as long as they wanted. Listening usually yielded as many answers as asking direct questions.

  “Helen can be a real tiger,” Brett said. “I thought Dana was going to walk out of the store last December. What would Dana do as fashion director?”

  “Eventually she would be the one who, with Dad, would chart the direction of the company, such as spotting new trends and fabrics, approving the designs, and styling the collection. I’m better in the field, servicing our accounts and managing operations. I think it would be her dream job in more ways than one since it entails European travel which, as you know, she loves.”

  Brett laughed. “I do recall her penchant for travel. Keep reminding her of that, Johnny, and she’ll give in. It sounds to me like she would almost have partnership status.”

  “Funny you mention it. I can tell that Dad’s been thinking along those lines from a few of his comments. Yep, in time I can see that happening.”

  “Sounds like a good plan to me,” Brett said. His interest was now no longer a matter of sheer curiosity. He was about to hand over a lot of cash and assets to Dana in accordance with their separation agreement, and he wanted to hear more.

  “But she told me at lunch yesterday that she needs more time to consider the offer,” Johnny said. “What more is there to think about?”

  “I agree. I would think she’d welcome the chance to have more creative freedom. I’m surprised she’s not jumping at the offer despite her allegiance to the store.”

  “My point exactly. But Mark wants her to redouble her efforts to get the boutique up and running at B. Altman. He—” Johnny paused, unsure if he should continue.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Brett said. “Mark Senger. They’ve worked together for years, and I heard they were going out. It’s not a problem.”

  Looking relieved, Johnny continued. “Anyway, Mark has upped the ante. He wants Dana to work with a friend of his who manufactures menswear to produce a private label for B. Altman.”

  “And from what you’re telling me, they’d obviously sell this new line in the boutique you mentioned,” Brett said.

  “That’s their plan, but I think Dana might be setting herself up for a big letdown.”

  “How so?”

  “Mark’s idea is not only ambitious, but it’s more than a bit risky. Assuming his friend can turn out a really great line, Dana has to find somebody at the store to sign off on the whole project.”

  “Let me guess,” Brett said. “Bob Campbell?”

  “Yep. Bob’s been her mentor since she started.”

  “True. He’s been in Dana’s corner a number of times,” Brett said thoughtfully. “But not always. I wouldn’t consider it a done deal if I were she. She shouldn’t lose this good job with you and John since careers at the store can be so competitive. Too much in-fighting there, if you ask me.”

  Johnny sighed. “That’s what’s so distressing. Dad told her that the offer will remain open indefinitely, so there’s no incentive for her to make a quick decision. In the meantime, she can pursue this new line of ladieswear for her boutique.”

  “So what you’re telling me is that Dana has the House of Cirone as a safety net if her project
with Senger falls through,” Brett said.

  “I hadn’t thought of it like that, but yes—I guess that’s as good an assessment as any. She’s sitting in the catbird seat.”

  “Well, it goes without saying that I hope she chooses to work with you and your dad,” Brett said. “I wish her success either way, but I think she’d be much happier among people she regards as family. It sounds like a terrific opportunity, not to mention that it offers advancement, job security, and an equity position.”

  “Well, Dad’s not discussing partnership yet. Too premature, and it would be added pressure for Dana. We just want her to get started, especially developing the new young line.”

  “I think she’s just being cautious, Johnny,” Brett said. “Don’t forget that it’s been a difficult six months for Dana. But knowing how much she loves you and your dad, I’m sure she’ll soon be on board.”

  “I’ll let you know what happens either way,” Johnny said.

  “Yeah, keep me in the loop,” Brett said. “I’ll be concerned until I know the situation is resolved. Dana puts so much into her work, and I know she’s miserable when it’s not going well.”

  “I’m glad you and Dana parted amicably. It’s too bad more people don’t take the high road.”

  “So true,” Brett said. “So true.”

  • • •

  Brett returned to his office after lunch with Johnny and looked out of his office window, lost in thought. He never had any plans to see Dana—until now. She was in a win-win situation as far as he could tell. She would either become fashion director at the House of Cirone, with a possible partnership down the road, or she would be a rising star at B. Altman. Either career path meant that she was almost certainly going to be earning more money than at the time they separated. Quite a bit more, in fact. She’d already moved up from special events coordinator to buyer, and now she would go even farther regardless of where she planted her flag.

  And then there was Mark Senger to consider. Brett hadn’t figured Dana for someone who’d start dating so quickly. Was she in a serious relationship with this man, who was wealthy and could give her anything she wanted? If so, she was advancing her life in more ways than one. And yet their settlement amounted to Brett giving away the store. Maybe he’d acted too hastily, granting Dana far too many concessions out of guilt as well as fear of having his affair exposed. Fortunately, they were still in the legal separation period, and the divorce would not be final until December. There was still a chance that he could alter the terms.”

  The first step was to find out a lot more about Mark Senger. He would once again enlist the aid of private investigator Wade Forrester, having him follow Mark everywhere he went and learning as much as possible about his lifestyle. He would also keep in touch with Johnny Cirone and find out which way Dana was leaning in the coming days.

  He’d been truthful with Johnny. He didn’t begrudge Dana having a successful life and career, but he didn’t think she should realize her dreams at his expense. Literally. From what he could tell, Dana might not need his bank account to find all the happiness and fulfillment she desired.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Andrew Ricci’s afternoon was proceeding like any other. The schematics for the current House & Garden Home Furnishings exhibit were undergoing daily modifications—typical in the design phase—and Andrew was in perpetual motion, going from the eighth floor, where the display would be located, to his office, to the conference room, to Bob Campbell’s office—and then repeating the entire route. The pace was frenetic, yet Andrew loved his job and always thrived on the excitement at the inception of a project. His creative juices were flowing, and as was usually the case, he was lost in his thoughts. He stepped out of the elevator onto the sixth floor and started walking down the corridor before realizing that he was passing the offices of the Altman Foundation. He’d pushed the wrong elevator button. Reversing direction, he trekked back toward the elevators but stopped cold when he saw Patti Hartlen sitting at her desk and sobbing uncontrollably. He quickly slipped into her office, closed the door, and sat across from Patti.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, handing her a tissue from the box at the edge of her desk.

  “It’s nothing,” she said dismissively as she wiped tears and mascara from her face. “I’ll be okay.”

  “Come on, Patti,” Andrew said, handing her another tissue. “You’re obviously pretty upset about something. Is everything all right here in the office? Anybody giving you a hard time?”

  Patti shook her head. “No, nothing like that. Everybody here is great.”

  “Then?”

  “It’s more personal.”

  Andrew was about to get up and leave rather than intrude on a private moment, but Patti burst into fresh tears.

  “Look,” Andrew said, leaning forward, “whatever’s wrong is none of my business, but maybe it would help if you talked it out. I promise that whatever you say won’t go beyond this office.”

  Patti sniffled and wiped her face again. “It’s Jack.”

  Andrew sat up straighter at the mention of his lover’s name. “Is he okay? I mean, he hasn’t been in an accident or anything, has he?”

  “Maybe this will seem silly to you, but we had dinner reservations last night, but he didn’t make it. Didn’t even call. He got in at three o’clock and didn’t say a word, but I knew he had been drinking. He just went straight to sleep, which is nothing new. I wanted last night to be … special.”

  Andrew took a deep breath. He knew exactly where Jack had been. They’d gone out to dinner and then back to Andrew’s apartment. Jack had far too much to drink, and Andrew had poured black coffee into him for two hours before sending him home in a taxi. In fact, Jack had been drinking a lot more in the past two weeks, although he’d never gotten outright drunk until last night.

  “Did he say anything this morning?” Andrew asked. “In the way of an explanation, that is.”

  “Only that he’d been entertaining clients who didn’t want to call it a night and that he’d been thoroughly exhausted before the evening began. He apologized for not calling and then hurried off to work. The apologies are a part of his daily routine now.”

  “I guess opening a new office here in the city is probably—”

  “I’m not buying that excuse any longer,” Patti interrupted. “Dana suggested I make him sit down and talk, which I did a few nights ago. He admitted that he wasn’t very good company any longer and claimed that the suppliers for Hartlen Response were dragging their feet. He even suggested—” Patti successfully fought back a new wave of tears. “He suggested that I go back to Houston until he got things sorted out here.”

  Andrew looked at the folded schematics he was holding and spoke quietly. “It sounds like he’s under a lot of pressure. What did you tell him?”

  “About returning to Houston for a few months? I told him that it was out of the question. Andrew, I don’t know what he’s going through, but there’s something he’s not telling me, and I intend to stand by him regardless of what’s troubling him. It’s just that some days are almost impossible to get through.”

  “Like today,” Andrew said.

  “Like today,” she repeated. “He knew how important last night was to me. I wanted to go out and have a romantic dinner. Just the two of us. No clients and no talk about business. But he couldn’t even call me. I’m sorry you had to see me like this. I feel like I’m falling apart.”

  “It’s okay,” Andrew said. “I understand.”

  In truth, Andrew realized that he was only beginning to understand the difficulty of Jack and Patti’s situation. He saw Patti on most weekdays and occasionally had lunch with her at Charleston Garden, B. Altman’s eighth-floor restaurant. As for Jack, he rarely spoke of Patti when they were together. Andrew loved Jack, but his love had blinded him to what Patti might be going through. Andrew had never coerced Jack into a relationship when they first met. Rather, they had both been immediately attracted to one anot
her, and Andrew had helped Jack discover, month by month, who he really was and what he wanted in life. In an instant, however, Andrew knew that he would have to reevaluate his relationship with Jack. Seeing Patti so distraught was tantamount to a punch in the gut. He still wanted to be with Jack—that hadn’t changed—but Patti could not be allowed to linger in her painful no man’s land any longer. To do so would be cruel and insensitive. He decided to call Jack that very afternoon.

  “Try to hang in there,” Andrew said, standing. “I’m late for a meeting, but maybe you should sit down with Jack again and see if he’ll open up to you, just as Dana said.”

  “Thanks, Andrew,” Patti said, now looking more composed. “Jack and I will somehow make it through this together. Thanks for lending me your ear.”

  Andrew smiled thinly and left. He felt awful, when Dana stopped him moments later in the main hallway on the fifth floor.

  “You look pale,” Dana remarked. “What’s wrong?”

  “Feels like I’m coming down with something,” Andrew said hurriedly. “I’m going home early.”

  “Give me a call if you need any—”

  Andrew had already entered the elevator before Dana could finish her sentence.

  • • •

  Andrew returned to his apartment on East 55th Street. He slumped on the couch and thought for several minutes before picking up the telephone, dialing Jack’s private line at Hartlen Response.

  “I just had a talk with Patti,” Andrew said, his voice subdued.

  There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “About what?” Jack asked. “You sound terrible.”

  “Yeah, well, I feel terrible. I saw Patti sobbing in her office. Sobbing, Jack. She told me that you two had dinner reservations last night.”

  “I know. I forgot all about them. I guess I—”

  “No, just listen for a second, all right? She said she confronted you. And she told me about your suggestion that she go back to Houston for a while. About your excuses and apologies and her intention to stand with you until you resolve whatever’s going on. She knows you’re hiding something, Jack, and you—no, we—can’t do this to her any longer.”

 

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