Читать книгу Secrets of the Lotus - Michelle Garren Flye - Страница 7

Chapter 3

Josie paused at the reception desk to check for messages. “Mondays suck.”

Cindy looked up from her own handful of pink slips with amusement. “More for some of us than others, darling.” She turned back to the gray-haired receptionist. “Thank you, Sonya.”

Josie frowned. “What does that mean?” Her voice sounded curt, even to her own ears. Usually a morning person, her late night had not agreed with her and she felt completely off kilter. Tossing and turning for an hour or more after she finally got in bed didn’t help either, but she’d had a hard time getting her mind off James and when she finally did, it was only to find herself debating Dan’s proposal, all of which left her grumpy, even with her best friend.

“Not a thing.” Cindy leaned closer. “Except if I’d been out half the night with one of New York’s most handsome eligible bachelors, I’d be a touch less irritable than you, I think.”

Josie decided to ignore this, turning instead to Sonya. “No messages, Sonya?”

“They’re on your desk.” Sonya’s eyes twinkled. “With your flowers.”

“Flowers!” Cindy pounced. “Ooh, it must have been a better night than I thought!” She grinned, elbowed Josie out of the way and raced her to her cubicle. However, even Cindy was brought up short by the size and beauty of the arrangement. “My dear, what the hell did you do to deserve that?”

“Nothing!” Josie glared at Cindy. “He shouldn’t have done this.” A momentary hope sparked. Maybe he hadn’t. Maybe it was a mistake. “A card.” She pushed past Cindy and Sonya, who had followed. “There must be a card in here somewhere…”

“On top of your messages.” Sonya pointed just as Josie’s fingers closed on the small white envelope definitely displaying her name.

“‘I hope you’ve had some time to think it over. Love, Dan.’” Cindy read over Josie’s shoulder. “What does the dear man mean?”

Josie groaned and put her head down on her desk. “Go away, Cindy. I don’t have any energy for you today.”

The phone rang. Josie jerked up as Cindy punched the flashing button and picked up the receiver. “Josie Stewart’s desk. Of course, Mr. Mason. I’ll check and see if she’s in yet.” Not bothering to put the line on hold, she held the receiver out to Josie and said loudly, “It’s for you, Josie girl.”

“Did you get the flowers?” Dan sounded concerned, but Josie noted a hint of amusement in his voice. “Are they all right?”

“I’m sitting in their shade now.” Josie plucked a rosebud from the arrangement and flung it at Cindy’s retreating back.

“Good.” His tone changed to one of satisfaction. “I ordered them online. You never know what you’re going to get.”

“You got your money’s worth. At least, I assume nobody would pay more for flowers than these should have cost. I’m allergic to lilies, by the way.”

“Is that why you haven’t said thank you?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Actually, I was calling to warn you.”

“Warn me about what?”

“You haven’t seen NY Style yet, have you?”

Josie sensed hesitation in his voice. She peered around the flowers at the rest of the office. NY Style, their primary competition, came out on Monday mornings. Lamar, Josie’s editor, made it a point to read NY Style at the beginning of every week, scanning it for articles and events his own magazine should have covered the previous week. Her gaze shot to the closed door of his office. “It’s still early, why?”

“Don’t get mad. I swear I had nothing to do with it.”

“With what?”

“Somebody took a picture.”

“A picture?” She raised her eyebrows, wondering what he meant. There had been photographers all over the entrance to the benefit. “Of us?”

“Yeah, but not at the benefit.”

“Not at the benefit?” She felt panic clench a fist in her stomach. “Oh, crap. After? But what? I mean, we didn’t—”

“The picture’s kind of blurry, probably taken without a flash, and the shadows make it look like—Uh, it was while we were standing beside the river.”

“Damn. Oh God, I’m in so much trouble.” She closed her eyes, dreading his answer to her next question. “Can you tell it’s us?”

“Not really. Except for the caption, of course.”

Josie was ready to curse again when an enormous storm broke loose at the reception desk. “Where the hell is Josie?”

“Gotta go.” She dropped the phone, looked at the flowers and decided since there was no way to hide them, she’d stand, drawing the eyes and attention of her editor above them. “Um, over here, Lamar.” She took a deep breath, knowing the only way to pacify Lamar was to remain in control herself.

Lamar looked like a large, overdone marshmallow with his massive physique and a coffee stain down the front of his white shirt. He was waving NY Style in his king-sized brown hand. “What the hell is this?”

Remaining as calm as she could, Josie took the glossy tabloid from him. The picture, in grainy black and white, was captioned:

The next Mason conquest? Billionaire Dan Mason and Josie Stewart, reporter, steal a private moment by the Hudson River after attending the benefit dinner for Senator Hill on Sunday.

“Sort of a bad picture, actually.” She struggled to keep her voice down. “Nowhere near up to their usual standards. Taken too far away without a flash. Of course, the photographer probably knew Dan wouldn’t let him get away with his memory card intact if he came close enough for us to see him.”

Lamar sputtered. “You admit that’s you?”

“Of course, it would be ridiculous to deny it. It says so right there. The picture’s not great, but NY Style got its facts straight.”

“Why the hell did NY Style scoop us on the fact our own society reporter is dating Dan Mason?” Lamar’s voice was now deadly calm. Josie knew that was a bad sign.

“I’m not dating him.” She bit her lip and told herself it wasn’t really a lie. “I went with him to the benefit last night for the story. That’s it. We’re friends. I swear.”

“That’s it? You know better than that. He’s on your beat, Jo! Hell, he practically is your beat. He’s one of the richest, most eligible bachelors in New York. His father was the mayor, for heaven’s sake.” He took a deep breath. “Best damn mayor this city’s ever had.” He frowned, noticing the flowers for the first time. “Jesus H. Christ! Are those from him?”

“Uh, yeah. He ordered them online.” She wondered wildly why she would mention that fact, except that it had stuck in her head from her conversation with Dan.

Lamar still stared at the massive arrangement. “Why would he send you flowers like this? Are you sure you’re just friends?”

“I—” She remembered the night before in vivid detail, from the pleasure in Dan’s eyes when she opened the door to her apartment to the feel of his hand on hers before he left her. And James’s voice on the answering machine: Sorry I missed you. She looked down, her eyes catching one of the lilies already wreaking havoc on her sinuses. “I don’t know. Honestly, Lamar, I don’t know.”

Several seconds passed before Lamar let out his breath in an explosive blast that sent pollen flying out of the lily Josie’s eyes were fixed on. “You’re off society. Emily will take over. You’re on theater.”

Josie opened her mouth to protest, but he held up a hand. “Save it. You know how I feel. Your objectivity goes when you get too involved. I’ve been there.” He glanced around at the other reporters and editors who had gathered to watch the scene. “Em, get Jo’s notes for this week’s column and get to work.”

“Sorry, Jo.” Emily gave Josie a smug smile as the editor’s office door closed. “I know how long you’ve worked to get this beat going. And you’ve made a real success of it—”

“Can it, Em.” Jo handed a file folder over. She sat behind her flowers. She’d rather anybody else take over her beat. Emily had been after it since she’d started work at the magazine six months before. But she reminded herself to be professional. “If you need anything else, let me know.” She brushed pollen off her desk and pulled her Rolodex over, wondering how many of her contacts might also be active in the theater.

“Since you mention it…” Emily perched on the side of Josie’s desk, assuming a sweet smile. “How about an interview, set the record straight about your relationship with Dan Mason…”

“Since you mention it, my personal life is off limits. You do your job, but you do it without any insider tips from me. That means I don’t answer questions about Dan, me or me and Dan. Got it?”

“Got it.” Emily sounded far too cheerful for Josie’s tastes. She saluted Josie with the folder, blowing more pollen onto her desk.

Josie laid her head down on her arms again. Then she sneezed.

* * * *

Dan Mason sat next to his father in a white rocking chair on the sun porch at his parents’ mansion. Dan Mason, Sr., hadn’t altered his blank gaze out the window or spoken in the past half hour. However, the sun porch was pleasantly warm and peaceful in the winter sun, and Dan let himself relax. He couldn’t remember ever sitting there. Before, his trips to his home had always been consumed by business, usually spent closeted in his father’s office.

Remembering the office and the night Josie had surprised him there brought with it startling and unexpected warmth. Dan glanced at his father’s staid face and dragged his mind away from Josie, resolving to stay focused.

He took his father’s hand in his. “I’m doing what I can, Dad. I’m keeping the business going for you. I think you’d approve of the decisions I’ve made.”

His father didn’t respond. After a moment of waiting for the flash of light that sometimes—less and less often now—replaced the blankness in his father’s eyes, Dan released his father’s hand, placing it carefully back on the arm of the rocking chair. He gazed over the back lawn, the gardens, the fountain, the stables and the garage. From where he sat he couldn’t see them, but Dan knew there was a tennis court and a nine-hole golf course out there somewhere on the twenty acres his family owned. His dad had played golf when he was well. Dan remembered being irritated a few times when he’d had to track his father down because he’d left his cellphone at the house. But he couldn’t remember the last time they’d played golf together.

Would the pangs of guilt ever end? Dan tightened his grip on his chair arms. He couldn’t keep feeling guilty about what he’d never done for his father. He had to concentrate on what he could do for him now. That was where Josie came in, and that was all she could mean to him. He wondered why she hadn’t called.

To be honest, he’d expected to hear from her immediately after her discussion with her editor. Without intending to, Dan pulled out his cellphone, checking for missed calls though he knew he had none. Why the hell hadn’t she called yet?

He laughed at himself. “Been a long time since I’ve sat by the phone waiting for a girl to call me,” he said to his father. “You know?”

“What about Tammy Johansen?”

“Tammy?” Dan started at the raspy but familiar voice.

His father nodded, smiling without turning his head. “I seem to remember you couldn’t live without her. Have you found yourself another Tammy Johansen?”

Dan gulped. He remembered Tammy as a cheerleader with long red hair, all too eager to date the son of the wealthy mayor. Sure, she’d played hard to get at first, but she’d given in pretty easily. Once she had, he’d lost interest.

“Better than her, Dad. She might be what I need to take care of your last business deal.”

Dan Senior didn’t answer, and when Dan looked at him closely, he realized the light had gone out again. With a sigh, Dan leaned back in his chair and let his weight carry him back and forth, slowly, in sync with his father. He caught his mind drifting to Josie, wondering why she hadn’t called and what he’d do if she didn’t, but he realized such suppositions were worthless.

He resolutely faced the one issue he’d been avoiding. How long could he keep his father at home? Admittedly, it was easier for his family than most. They definitely had the resources for private nurses. He could easily transform an entire wing of the mansion into a private hospital for his father. He wondered if that would be the best thing. Once his father lost all grasp on his old life, might he be better off in a top-of-the-line medical facility? Or would he always be happier in familiar surroundings?

The phone in his hand buzzed and Dan jerked, nearly dropping it. His father gave a grunt and Dan patted his hand. “It’s okay, Dad.” He stood and walked to the window. “Hello?”

“Um, hi, Dan?”

“Josie.” He smiled. “It’s good to hear your voice.”