As she spoke, Hays moved toward the second door that led to the interior hallway. Auden followed her into the maze beyond and found herself immediately in the central core of the top-floor suite. They passed a large conference room and the kitchen, then stopped just three doors down from Haydon Palmer's corner office. Through the open door, Auden saw an expansive office with bookshelves waiting to be filled, a magnificent carved oak desk, and other furnishings similar to those in Haydon's office, including another Oriental rug. Windows on the far side of the desk overlooked the park below, affording the same view as the corner office.
After a quick glance, Auden turned to Haydon with a gasp of surprise. "Surely you can't mean for me to have this?"
"Yes." Hays shrugged. The thought had occurred to her as she had ridden the elevator to the top floor earlier that morning. Creating the lesbian fiction division was her brainchild, and even though she knew she couldn't personally tend to its total growth and development, she wanted to have access to all aspects of its inception. She didn't enjoy riding the elevator up and down, phone conferences frustrated her because she disliked being unable to see the expression of her fellow conversant, and the stairs were out of the question, She needed all her energy to focus on the work ahead. "It's empty, it's conveniently located, and the coffee up here is very good."
Auden laughed. "Believe me, I'd take it even without coffee privileges. I just can't believe no one is using it."
"It used to be my office."
Surprised by the unanticipated revelation, Auden leaned one shoulder against the door frame. Haydon stood a foot away, her back against the opposite side of the opening.
"How long have you run the company?" Auden asked before realizing that that was probably an inappropriate question. "I'm sorry, I__"
"Technically, six years," Hays replied, not entirely certain why she was answering. She was cordial with all her directors, but rarely had the time or inclination for casual conversation. Auden, though, with her quietly searching gaze, inspired confidences. "My father left the company to me when I was fifteen years old. I have a brother, almost twenty years older, who never expressed any interest in it. Until I reached majority, Abel Pritchard was acting CEO. I was always involved in the company, though, in one way or another, even when I was in college. Before I took over, I worked from here."
"And Mr. Pritchard took care of the business for you until you were able to assume control?"
"Yes. He was a good friend of my father's, and he's always been something of a guardian, for both me and the company." Hays brushed an errant lock of hair from her eyes, thinking about the last few years. So much had happened, so much had changed. Suddenly, she realized that Auden was watching her with that intent, questioning gaze, and Hays wondered how much she had seen. "Abel never cared for the administrative aspects, though."
"And you do?"
"Most of the time."
"You're very young for this position."
"Am I?" Hays smiled, but her eyes were remote. "I've never really thought of it that way." Straightening, she said abruptly, "Let me show you the rest of the floor and then I'll leave you to get settled. The computer in your office is already online, and I put you in the system this morning. Your e-mail address is AFrost at PaImPub.net"
"You're very efficient, too," Auden observed with a smile.
"I have to be." Hays's expression was impossible to read. "There'll be a planning meeting this afternoon at three with Abel, myself, and you. We can get a start on our battle plan then. Feel free to knock on my door if anything comes up before then."
"Thank you. I appreciate the guided tour. I'm sure that I won't need to trouble you further."
"It was no trouble," Hays said quietly as she turned away.
Auden watched until Haydon disappeared into her office, recognizing the sudden reserve in the publisher's manner and fearing that she had gone too far with her personal questions. It was unlike her to do that. In the four years that she had worked at Miller, she had maintained friendly relationships with everyone. She'd attended the obligatory luncheons and business functions when she couldn't conjure up a believable excuse not to, but she knew very little about the private lives of her colleagues. Certainly she was not privy to anything about the personal affairs of her employers, nor had she had any wish to be. She had been content with the work, but it did not touch her life in any intimate way. Now, after only twenty-four hours, everything about Palmer Publishing intrigued her, most especially its formidable director.
----- Original Message-----
From: [email protected]
Sent: Tuesday March 18, 9:33 AM
To : [email protected]
Subject: New Company and Eros Anthology
Rune:
What's the word on the takeover? Has anyone contacted you yet? Should I start looking around for a new home?
And when am I going to see your submissions for the Eros series? Are you posting it on HeartLand?
Come on, buddy, keep me in the loop. Show me yours and I'll show you mine lt;ggt;.
Thane
Rune smiled at the invitation but had no desire to play. There were too many things she had to do. Deadlines seemed to come so much faster now, even if they were only self-imposed ones.
-----Reply-----
From: [email protected]
Sent: Tuesday March 18, 11:38 AM
To : [email protected]
Subject: re: New Company and Eros
Thane:
No word from the new publisher yet, but you know how slow they are.
I'm working on the material for Eros, but I'm not sure how I feel about it. It's not coining out quite as I planned. I'll let you know what I decide soon.
Rune
"No, not turning out quite as I had planned at all." Rune closed her eyes, tilted the chair back, and tried to clear her mind. For her, words had never come from conscious thought or intention; they came from some deeper place, from the dark well of hidden dreams and secret desires. They came unbidden, uninvited, demanding to be written, to be seen, to be heard.
She opened her eyes, leaned forward, and placed slender fingers on the keyboard. Gaze turned inward, stillness suffusing her being, she typed.
Secret Passions - Scene Two
It was hard for me to believe that she didn't know how attractive she was. I got the sense that she rarely thought about herself. I knew as we stood together, talking, that she had no idea the effect she had on me. My heart raced, my skin tingled, and my pilms grew damp. I struggled not to let her see the faint trembling in my hands, although I doubted she would recognize my desire. Still, I needed to be careful.
It was impossible, this attraction, for more reasons .than I could say. I wasn't free, even had the possibility of touch existed between us. I reminded myself of this even as I raised a hand to brush away the wisps of hair straying across her cheek. Her green eyes widened, deepening like the shoals in shadow, and her full lips parted as if to bless my coming. I had thought my
touch might startle or surprise, but seeing her expression, some foolish part of me believed that my fingers against her skin would not be unwelcome. She gave me no real reason to believe that, or any indication that it would ever be true. No sign-only the stillness in her face and the trilling beat of blood beneath the alabaster skin of her neck.
She waited as my fingertips hovered above her cheek, her gaze warming mine, and the pleasure of the moment was so acute my breath escaped me on a sigh. She smiled at the sound.
To ray amazement, hope rose within me. Such a foreign emotion, so long ago lost. Although I knew it doomed, I allowed the emotion to linger, savoring the swell of heat that followed close upon the dream.
Then I let my arm drop and stepped away.
"I'm sorry. I must go."
The words, or more correctly, the emotions that had inspired them, exhausted her. Rune leaned back in the chair once more, acknowledging fatigue and allowing her lids to close. Lights flic
kered behind her eyelids, ghostly afterimages of the characters, both real and figurative, that had streamed across the computer monitor, dancing just out of reach. Often, she didn't realize what she had written until she discovered her imaginings captured in the regimented march of sentences down the screen.
She knew what awaited her review this time and realized, too, that what she had written was too close to fact. This anthology was proving more difficult than she had anticipated. The baring of fantasies and dreams and desires was proving far too personal a revelation to make while still hoping to remain unaffected. These snippets of time, moments captured through a glass darkly, had been wrenched from her depths, and left blood streaking the surface of her soul.
She had not yet fully committed to the Eros project It had been Thane's idea and only in the first stages when WomenWords had folded. Now, rereading the last several entries, Rune thought perhaps she might have to abandon it. She hadn't thought her words had the power any longer to draw emotion from those places she had safely locked away. She'd been wrong. But then again, perhaps it was not her words, but rather their inspiration, that had turned the key and flung wide the door behind which she had sequestered her longings.
The phone rang. Automatically, she saved the file and closed it.
"Yes? No, I haven't forgotten. Thank you." With a sigh, she stood and let the misgivings along with the once-abandoned dreams slip away.
—.--Original Message----
From: [email protected]
Sent: Tuesday March 18, 12:05 PM
To : [email protected]
Subject: Authors-For your review
Attachment: WWauthors.doc 26KB
Ms. Frost:
These are the authors currently under contract to WomenWords, Destiny's forerunner.
Email addresses, titles of works currently in progress, and a list of submissions pending are attached for your review.
HLP
Auden opened the file and perused the eight names. Her eyes stopped on one. Rune Dyre.
"Ah, wonderful." She thought of the half-read book on her bedside table, and suddenly, she couldn't wait to get home to finish it. She hadn't yet figured out what had captivated her so immediately, but the urge to return to the world between those covers was almost addicting. Pleasurable and exhilarating, but dangerous. She smiled to herself. Dangerous, adventurous—those terms had never been applicable to her ordered world before, and yet in a matter of hours, they had begun to feel familiar.
Turning her attention back to the concrete realities of her job, she printed the author list and began making her own lists of what she needed to do, people she needed to contact, and what points she wanted to discuss at the first planning meeting that afternoon. She worked through lunch, stopping only long enough to refill her coffee from the ever-full lunchroom carafe. Each time she stepped out into the hallway, she glanced at the door to Haydon's office. It was ajar, a silent invitation to enter.
Of course, she did not. Haydon Palmer had been generous with her time, and as much as Auden wanted to see her, she hadn't the slightest excuse to do so. She didn't think that curiosity and a strange compulsion to listen to her deep voice were quite enough reason to disturb the obviously busy publisher. It was oddly comforting, though, just thinking about her being so near.
Ten minutes before the conference was scheduled to begin, Auden gathered her notes and started down the hall. She glanced quickly into the conference room and saw that it was empty. The door to Haydon's office remained open, and she moved closer to peer inside. The publisher was not behind her desk. Auden was about to turn away when she heard a soft moan. Startled, she moved a few inches into the room and glanced around.
Haydon Palmer lay on the sofa, her jacket off and discarded on the coffee table beside her, her shirt unbuttoned far enough to reveal the subtle swell of pale breasts. She reclined on her back, one leg partially off the sofa, resting on the floor. An arm dangled freely as well. She appeared to be deeply asleep.
Uncertain as to whether she should leave or wake her, Auden stood rooted to the spot. When the sleeping woman twitched as if an electric current had discharged through her body and moaned once again, Auden forgot about propriety and crossed quickly to her side.
Kneeling next to the sofa, Auden whispered softly, "Ms. Palmer?"
Hays didn't move.
"Excuse me, Ms. Palmer?" Auden gently placed her right hand on the other woman's shoulder and gave her a very tiny shake. Now that she was closer, she could see the sweat beaded on Haydon's ashen forehead and her eyes fluttering rapidly beneath the nearly translucent eyelids. "Haydon?"
Hays's eyes flew open, their dark brilliance eclipsed by the remnants of sleep. She blinked and murmured unbelievingly, "Auden?"
"I'm sorry," Auden said softly, her ringers registering the trembling in the other woman's body. "I wasn't sure if I should wake you."
"Forgive me," Hays whispered, caught between the undertow of dark dreams and the pull of Auden's tender gaze. "I hadn't meant to fall asleep."
"You needn't apologize to me." Auden stifled the urge to stroke her damp cheek. "I thought I heard you...are you all right?"
Hays blushed and sat up quickly, rubbing her face briskly. "Fine. Don't trouble yourself."
Surprised by the rebuke, Auden rose to her feet. She was even more startled when the publisher grasped her hand.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound so short. I do appreciate the wake-up call." Hays tried to grin, hoping her acute embarrassment didn't show. Then she noticed Auden's concerned expression change swiftly to one of alarm. "What—"
"My God!" Auden exclaimed. "You're bleeding."
Hays could feel it then, the warm trickle from her right nostril. She knew what it was and reached quickly for the clean handkerchief that she kept in her pants pocket. Swiftly, she pressed it to her nose and leaned her head back. "Sorry."
"Can I get you something?"
"No," Hays muttered. "It's nothing. Allergy season."
"It's really no trouble, Ms. Palmer. Some ice, perhaps?"
"No, it'll stop in a second." Hays dabbed at her face, then sat up as the trickle slowed, "And please, call me Hays."
Auden blushed this time, inordinately pleased and having no idea why. Her heart pounded as she searched Hays's face for any sign of lingering problems. She'd been frightened, probably more frightened than the minor incident demanded, but the memory of that soft moan made her heart twist. Quietly, she said, "Then you must call me Auden."
Hays nodded, rising carefully. So far, so good. Now, if I can just manage not to humiliate myself for another few moments. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For waking me."
I couldn't bear that you were in pain. Auden watched as Hays tucked in her shirt and reached for her j acket. Without the blazer, Auden saw that the publisher was thinner than she had realized. Hays wasn't frail by any means, but even now there was a fine tremor in her hands. "Are you sure you're all right?"
"Fine." Without meeting Auden's gaze, Hays shrugged into her jacket and crossed the room to her desk. She collected her laptop and slipped a Waterman pen into her breast pocket. "Shall we get started on our new project, then?"
"Yes," Auden replied, recognizing the shift in tone and assuming a professional one to match. "Let's do."
Chapter Five
W hen Auden and Hays reached the conference room, Abel Pritchard was there waiting. He sat on the right side of the long walnut table with several file folders spread out in front of him. Hays took her customary seat at the head of the table, settled in, and opened her laptop. Auden took the place opposite Abel at Hays's left hand.
"Nice to see you again, Mr. Pritchard," Auden said.
"Ms. Frost," Pritchard replied coolly with a barely perceptible nod.
Well, he clearly isn't impressed with me. So I wasn't wrong yesterday when I got the feeling that he didn't think much of my qualifications.
Hays interrupted Auden's introspection. "Fo
r the time being, Auden, I thought we could put together a temporary team from Palmer's other divisions until you had a chance to interview and choose your own section heads."
"That sounds fine," Auden agreed. "I assume you have a list of possibles for the various positions so I can set up interviews?"
"Yes," Hays replied. "I'll get that to you today. The only exception is going to be graphics, because they pretty much cover everyone. But if you find an artist who has a particular flair for what you want, I'll assign him or her to your division permanently."
"I'll look over your promos and get acquainted with the various artists' styles."
"Good idea." Hays bent her head to type a note.
"What about marketing?" Pritchard interjected, raising one eyebrow. Hays's use of Auden hadn't escaped his notice, nor had the way her voice dropped a register when she spoke to the other young woman. Lord. Is that what this impetuous hiring is all about? Hormones? That's not tike her.
"That's the next thing I want to address," Hays responded. "Liz Nixon, the former president of WomenWords, has expressed interest in coming over to marketing. It makes sense to me, because she knows her authors so well. What do you think, Auden?"
"On the surface, that sounds reasonable," Auden noted mildly. "She should be able to give us invaluable insight into who's been selling, where, and to whom." She met Hays's penetrating gaze and continued steadily, "But they're not her authors anymore. How do you think someone who's been used to running the entire company is going to adjust to a lesser role?"
"I've thought of that." Hays appreciated Auden's quick and accurate appraisal as well as her natural confidence. "And that's why I haven't made her an offer. But I thought you might want to interview her sooner rather than later to see if it seems workable."
At that, Pritchard's usually guarded expression registered frank surprise. "I should imagine you would be in a better position to judge that, Hays. Marketing is a key position, after all."
Radclyffe - Love's Masquerade Page 4
