by Ruby Laska
Dorothy shook her head to clear it, and sat slowly up. Time to talk to Miranda, to try to make things right again before she left. To apologize and admit that she’d committed a grave wrong. It wouldn’t be easy.
Even so, Dorothy couldn’t stop humming as she moved about the little cottage.
“Miranda,” Dorothy began, her voice faltering. She clutched at the bamboo handle of her purse, trying to remember what she’d planned to say.
Miranda’s assistant discreetly closed the door to her study, where he’d ushered her moments before. Tall, narrow windows were cranked open to let the fragrant breeze from the garden in. It lifted the papers on her desk, stirred the tall lilies gathered in a crystal vase.
“Sit down,” Miranda said, not unkindly. “And, I think, I’ll do the same.”
Walking around her immense cherry desk, Miranda took Dorothy’s hand and guided her to one of two overstuffed floral armchairs, sinking gratefully into the other one.
“I have got to give up those high heels,” she sighed, lifting her feet to the ottoman in an uncharacteristically relaxed pose. “I am a fool to try to party the way I once did. Although, I must say, I believe I monitored my champagne intake fairly well.”
Miranda arched her brow above her reading glasses and gazed directly into Dorothy’s eyes.
Dorothy flushed crimson and shifted uncomfortably in the cushiony depths of the chair.
“Miranda,” she said, “I don’t even know where to begin to tell you how sorry I am. I behaved reprehensibly—”
“Apology accepted.” Miranda lifted a slender hand and waved it dismissively. “And you simply must stop using all those syllables at this hour of the day, especially since everyone was up until the wee hours.”
Another searching gaze.
Dorothy sat in stunned silence, her heart thudding against her chest.
“You’re not...furious with me?”
“Oh, sure I am, a little,” Miranda laughed. “Actually, a lot, last night, anyway. But it’s hard to hold onto that kind of mad. Especially when an old bird like myself is smart enough to realize that it takes more than one fool to make a mess the size of this one.”
“I—I don’t understand.”
“What I’m trying to tell you, my dear—” Miranda reached for a small door in the carved end table next to the chair, peered inside, then shut it in disgust. “Why must I always quit smoking right before I need a cigarette the most? Anyway, what I think I wish to say is that if I hadn’t made such a fuss about, well, you know, family and marriage and so on, you wouldn’t have felt compelled to manufacture such a ridiculous situation to please me. After all, if I’d had any sense, I would have looked no further than your exemplary record.”
Dorothy realized she’d stopped breathing, and inhaled deeply. Miranda’s words collected in the air, almost incomprehensible to her. She wasn’t furious any more. “Exemplary record”...
“But I lied to you, Miranda,” she protested, her shame deepening as she confessed. “I took advantage of our relationship, of the things you shared with me about Walter, your life. I mean, those are important things, sacred things, and I had no right to use them to my advantage.”
Miranda shook her head slowly, a trace of a smile tilting the corners of her mouth.
“Mud was right on all counts,” she said. “You really can be rather priggish, you know that?”
Dorothy’s mouth dropped open. “He said...that?”
“Oh, heavens yes, among other things. Gave me quite an earful, really.”
“But...when?”
“Oh, you know, before breakfast yesterday. It didn’t take much, really, to get him talking.” Miranda arched her brow in a crafty way. “One gets the feeling you’re just about his favorite subject.”
“But you said—”
“I said priggish,” Miranda nodded serenely. “Now those may not have been his exact words. Let me see, I think ‘heavy—handed on the principles thing’ is what he said.”
Dorothy’s heart plummeted. So that was what he really thought of her. She’d spent the better part of the last hour floating inches off the floor in a cloud of delight, convinced Mud adored her.
“Don’t look so glum, sweetheart,” Miranda chided, her grin a bit wicked now. “I think he also said you were stubborn, determined and tough as nails.”
“Well.” Dorothy’s voice wobbled a bit as she spoke. She swallowed. “Of course that’s, well, there’s a grain of truth, I mean probably more than a grain, perhaps a lot of truth to that. Mud is, well, an old friend, and he was just doing me a favor, fulfilling an obligation, is what it really is.”
Miranda’s expression abruptly shifted. The faint amusement evaporated, the glint of mischief melted into concern.
“You poor thing,” she said, leaning forward in her chair and laying a hand on Dorothy’s arm. “You’re really suffering, aren’t you?”
Dorothy shook her head sharply. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Over this darling man, of course,” Miranda said. “You know, for such a smart girl, sometimes you can be so remarkably naive. Shall I instruct you in the ways of men? At one time, I considered myself rather an expert on the subject. At least, I knew my way around one particular man, but they all are cut from essentially the same cloth, are they not? Oh, listen to me, going on. What I mean to say is that Mud is every bit as crazy for you as you are for him.”
“I am not—” Dorothy sputtered.
“Oh, come now, let’s not waste time on all that. Here’s your first lesson. When a man talks about a woman’s shortcomings as though he were describing the Mona Lisa, you know it’s love. Walter once told me that I snored ‘melodiously’, if you can imagine such a thing. Mud went on about what a trial you were to him on the golf course, and the whole time those blue eyes of his were utterly radiant and he could not stop grinning. I mean, the man couldn’t even take a sip of his coffee without getting distracted all over again and going on another tangent, all about you, Dorothy dear.”
Dorothy slacked back in her chair, blinking a few times and letting her breath out slowly. She’d been prepared for Miranda’s rage, for stony silence, for venom. But nothing could have prepared her for this.
“You really think...”
“Oh, indeed. That’s what had me fooled. And I like to think I’m not easy to put one over on. But you two sure seemed like you were in love. I admit the whole scheme had its problems, and I could tell something was not right, but the chemistry was there, I assure you of that.
“At any rate, it was a first-class attempt, but I’m glad it got bungled up at the end. Because, you see, I’d rather not have any secrets between us when you come to work for me.”
Dorothy’s eyes widened in astonishment. “When I...what? You still want me, even after everything I did?”
“Like I said, I realized I put undue pressure on you. Last night made me think. Do you know, after the party ended, I stayed up late with Walter. Now don’t go thinking I’m crazy,” she added, smiling nostalgically. “I just talk to his picture. Do it all the time, in fact. I think he’s listening, somehow.
“Anyway, there I was going on about what we had when I realize that all I’ve been doing was trying to get Walter back by re-creating what we had. But it can’t be done. Time goes on, things change, the way they’re meant to. I can’t go dragging my musty old idea of things into the present and expect them to work. Finesse is a five billion dollar company these days, not some little dream we cooked up over the breakfast table, not any more. I need you, Dorothy, to take Finesse into the future. I need your smarts, your drive, your creativity. What I don’t need to do is run your personal life for you.”
“I don’t know,” Dorothy said shakily. “I wonder if you might do a better job at it than I.”
“Oh, now,” Miranda said, extending her hand to envelop Dorothy’s in a warm grasp. “We’ll have plenty of time to solve your love life down the road. For now, I just want to know you’ll come to work
the minute you can tie up your loose ends, and get down to the business of taking care of Finesse.”
“I accept,” Dorothy said softly. “I don’t know if I deserve this opportunity, Miranda, but I give you my word that I’ll do the very best job that I can for you.”
“I know you will, dear,” Miranda said, smiling gently. “You’re just the woman for the job.”
Dorothy returned to the little cottage in a daze, tripping over the slate walk. Coming out of the bright sun into the shade of the porch, she practically collided with Mud.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, stopping short and crossing her arms self-consciously in front of her.
“So how did things go with the angry dragon lady?” Mud inquired, bending to kiss the tip of her nose lightly. “Did she draw blood?”
“No. She, well, she offered me a job.”
“A job, no kidding? How do you like that!” Mud picked Dorothy up unceremoniously and swung her around with no apparent effort, setting her down only to hug her to him tightly. As the air rushed out of her she felt a rush of happiness nevertheless. “Hot dog, what did you say to her?”
When he finally released her Dorothy realized her knees were wobbly. “Do you think...I need to go in and sit down.”
Mud seized her elbow and guided her inside, nearly picking her up again in his zeal to help her to a chair. Dorothy accepted his help gratefully, breathing deeply as she settled into the chair.
“She says she felt responsible, that I never would have had to come up with this scheme if she hadn’t, you know, made it seem so important that I come with an instant family attached.”
Mud, kneeling next to the chair beside her, tilted his chin barely perceptibly.
“She knows what a deal she’s getting with you,” he said. “She’s no slouch in the brains department. I’m just glad she figured that out in time. When do you start?”
“When...whenever I’m ready, I guess,” Dorothy said. If I’m ever ready, she wanted to add. Now that the job was hers, she was feeling surprisingly ambivalent about it.
“That’s kind of a long face you’re wearing, considering you just sealed the deal,” Mud noted.
Dorothy looked at him, took in the fresh shave, the slicked-down hair, the white-tipped tennis shirt. Mud looked positively top-drawer. For her? Ironic, that only now he shed his laid-back threadbare look for her. Now, that it no longer mattered.
“I’m sorry. I think I’m just stunned. I’m sure I’ll be doing cartwheels before long.”
“You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself.”
“Do I?” Dorothy let her gaze slip down, no longer able to sustain his intense blue one. He saw things so clearly; how could he not see what really ran through her mind? How, more than any job on the planet, what she really wanted most was the very farce they’d constructed?
“I guess...these last weeks have shown me that there is a little more to life than balance sheets and boardrooms.”
Mud grinned, dimples quirking his cheeks and unbalancing his sophisticated look.
“Got you hooked on the sporting life, did I? Well, now that you’re such a hot shot, you can head out for the links any old time you want. Probably write off your club membership, even. Hell, I’ll probably have to offer to caddy to spend time with you.”
Dorothy’s fingers dug into her palms at her sides. Spend time with her. Did that mean he wanted to? Why did this have to be so hard?
“Actually, it wasn’t really golf I was thinking about. I’ve spent all my energy on my career, and with this new job I’m likely to keep doing the same. Everyone I know is, you know, finding more of a balance. Volunteering. Taking up new interests. Travelling. Getting married, starting families.”
There—she’d slipped it in there at the end. Holding her breath, she stole a glance at Mud.
But he sat impassively. Only the color of his eyes had changed, darkened a little. When he spoke, the jovial note was still there, if a little strained.
“There’s going to be time for all that stuff,” he said. “No sense obsessing about all that now—you’ll just tie yourself in knots. Seems like you need to put one foot in front of the other here, tackle one thing at a time.”
Dorothy felt the blood drain from her face, and stared resolutely down. Put one foot in front of the other? It wasn’t exactly a declaration or a commitment. No, not exactly.
“You’re absolutely right.” She stood suddenly, brushing off imaginary specks from her linen skirt. “Well. We’d better get packed up. I need to get home and put all this into perspective.”
Mud rose too, and suddenly seemed at a loss as to where to put his hands. There was little distance between them—too little, oddly. Dorothy edged back a little, rested a hand on an end table.
“I’m already packed,” he said. “I was just waiting for you. To, you know, say goodbye.”
Dorothy simply nodded, feeling a lump grow in her throat.
“I mean, I’ll call you tonight,” Mud added. “Maybe we can have dinner in a couple of days. I’m sure you need a little time to, ah, figure stuff out.”
Dorothy nodded vigorously. “Yes, exactly. There’s a lot here to think about. I’ll feel better if I get a few things down on paper.”
Mud reached a large hand to rest on her shoulder. For a moment Dorothy thought he might clap her on the back, but after hesitating, he leaned in for a kiss. It wasn’t fleeting, but as their lips met and fused together for a second, there was a new tentativeness to their touch.
“All right then,” Dorothy said, breaking it off. “Drive safe. And I’ll...look forward to hearing from you.”
“Right.” Mud tipped his fingers at her in a mock salute, and grabbed his duffel bag off the floor by the door. He turned to look at her for a second, but in the halo of bright sun Dorothy couldn’t make out his expression.
Then he was gone.
CHAPTER NINE
Dorothy gave the stack of fabric samples a last halfhearted brush with her fingers.
“They’re all lovely, Miranda, they truly are,” she sighed. “I don’t know how I’d choose one over another.”
“It’s a little overwhelming, isn’t it? But I have no doubt that it will come together beautifully in the end,” the older woman reassured her. “Work spaces truly do take on the personalities of the people who use them. You should have seen this office back when it belonged to Walter. It was a regular no-man’s land—or, should I say, no-woman’s land. He even insisted on hanging up a few of his dreadful fishing trophies, if you can imagine. He’d have clients in and hold meetings under the watchful eyes of a trout.”
Dorothy smiled, glad for the small levity. Still, the warm affection in Miranda’s voice as she spoke of her husband only made the emptiness in Dorothy’s own heart seem even deeper.
“Has the office been empty for a while, then?”
Miranda smiled ruefully. “Yes, and I’m afraid that’s my fault. I had the place cleaned out after Walter died, but I’m afraid I’ve never had the heart to assign anyone else in here. Until now. Now, it just seems right.
“Listen, why don’t you keep the samples for a few days,” she added, before Dorothy could respond. “You certainly have plenty to focus on right now. Selecting new office furnishings can wait.”
Relief mixed with a twinge of guilt. “Oh, Miranda, I’m sorry,” Dorothy said. “I know you were expecting some decisions today.”
She rubbed her temples, her heart sinking at disappointing Miranda’s hand-picked interior designer, especially after she’d prepared such a beautiful presentation. Furniture, carpeting, drapery samples, accessories—the designer was prepared to turn Dorothy’s office into a showplace.
“I love the sketches,” she added, attempting to inject some enthusiasm into her voice. “I promise to have answers for you by Friday.”
“That will be fine,” Miranda said, offering a warm smile. Hesitating, she drummed her fingers absently on the table.
“Dorothy...” she murmured ten
tatively. “I know this must be a difficult challenge. Making this transition. It must all be a little...unnerving.”
“Oh, no,” Dorothy interjected. “I’m delighted to be here. Working with you, building Finesse, it’s been my dream for a long time.”
She blushed under Miranda’s frank scrutiny, knowing there was little the woman missed. Dorothy had built her camouflage well, covering her under-eye circles with makeup, pasting a bright smile on when she entered Finesse’s doors each day. Surely a little heartbreak should be easy enough to conceal.
“Still, you seem a little...that is to say, if you need anything...”
Miranda let the unasked question hang in the air between them, her brow arched ever so slightly, kindness softening her slight frown.
If only Miranda weren’t quite so intuitive. Dorothy managed a smile, realizing that if she’d harbored any hopes of putting one over on her new boss, the cause was lost.
“Oh, thank you so much,” she said, not meeting Miranda’s gaze. “I am a little tired, but really, I’m feeling fine.”
“Mmm.”
Miranda didn’t bother trying to hide the skepticism in her voice, but thankfully, she didn’t press the issue. She stood and gathered her briefcase.
“All right, dear, I’ll see you at the meeting with Marketing at 2:00, right?”
“Yes, of course,” Dorothy said briskly, flashing a smile as confident as she could possible make it.
Miranda closed the door gently behind her, and suddenly the spacious room was silent.
Curious how Dorothy hadn’t noticed until now how she longed for a little solitude. She glanced at her calendar to reassure herself that she wasn’t due anywhere for a while. Her first week at Finesse had been a whirlwind of meetings, introductions, financial statements and industry briefs. Now, the unexpected break in her schedule was welcome.
