Читать книгу Millionaires' Destinies: Isn't It Rich? / Priceless / Treasured - Sherryl Woods, Sherryl Woods - Страница 12

“Why was one of Alexandria’s most eligible bachelors huddling in a secret hideaway with a marketing expert last weekend?” Pete Forsythe’s insider column in the Washington paper asked a few days later. “Could it be that Carlton Industries CEO Richard Carlton is finally getting ready for that long-rumored plunge into politics? Or was this rendezvous personal? He’s not talking and neither is the woman, but we’ve confirmed that he was tucked away during last weekend’s snowstorm with Melanie Hart, an up-and-coming star on the local marketing and public relations scene.”

Richard tossed the newspaper in the trash where it belonged and buzzed his secretary. “Winifred, get Melanie Hart over here now!”

“Yes, sir.”

Melanie must have been lurking in the lobby, because she was in his office in less than ten minutes. She looked good, too. Great, in fact, as if she’d prepared for just the right look to get him to pay more attention to her than this situation she’d created by blabbing their business all over town. If she was still trying to convince him to hire her, she’d gone about it all wrong. He was fit to be tied.

“I had a feeling I’d be hearing from you. I was already on my way over here,” she told him, studying him worriedly. “I saw the paper this morning. How furious are you?”

“On a scale of one to ten, I’d say twelve thousand,” he retorted. “I do not intend to play out my campaign intentions or my personal life in some damned gossip column. You ought to know that.”

She stared at him a minute, apparently absorbing his barely disguised accusation, then said icily, “I do. I know it, not because I have a clue what goes on in that impossibly hard head of yours, but because it’s a bad strategy. It diminishes you as a candidate to have people perceive that you’re sneaking around with a woman for any reason whatsoever.”

Richard was taken aback by her blunt response. What made her think she could get away with being some sort of victim? He scowled right back at her. “Then what the hell were you thinking?” There it was. He’d said it. Now let her dance around and try to avoid the obvious. Only the two of them knew about the weekend, and he’d never spoken to For-sythe.

“Me?” she said, radiating indignation. “I had nothing to do with this. This isn’t exactly great for my reputation, either.”

His frown deepened, but for an instant his fury wavered. She’d made the denial sound almost believable. His temper cooled marginally as he struggled to give her the benefit of the doubt. What she’d said made sense. He regarded her intently, wanting desperately to believe she hadn’t betrayed him. “Then you’re swearing to me that you did not plant that item?”

She gave him another one of those withering looks intended to make him feel like slime.

“Absolutely not,” she swore.

Richard knew then that he owed her an apology, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to utter it, not without asking a few more questions. “Did you speak to Forsythe?”

Her expression faltered at that. “Yes, but—”

Richard seized on the admission, not even waiting for her explanation. “Why the hell would you even take his call? I didn’t. He never got past my secretary. No good can ever come from talking to a gossip columnist. You’re a professional. You should know that.”

“What I know is that sometimes a reporter can be an ally, if you know when to talk and what to say,” she retorted. “Besides, I was already committed to taking the call before I knew why he was calling. As soon as I realized what he was after, I thought it would be wise to find out exactly what he’d heard. Once he started asking questions about you and me being at the cottage, I danced around the answers and hung up.”

Richard sighed. She was making too damned much sense to be flat-out lying. “Then you never confirmed the story?”

She scowled at him. “Do I look that stupid?”

“Then who the hell was so reliable that Forsythe would print the story without confirmation from one of us? Someone in your office?”

“No. Becky would never do something like that.”

“Not even in some misguided attempt to do you a favor?”

“Never.”

“Who else knew you were down there?” he demanded, then stared at her stricken face as understanding dawned on both of them. He said it first. “Destiny, of course.”

Even though she’d clearly been leaning in the same direction, Melanie looked genuinely shocked that he would accuse his aunt of betraying them. “Surely, she wouldn’t do such a thing?”

Richard’s laugh was forced. “Oh, yes, she would, especially if she thought planting that story in the paper would accomplish her goal.”

“Do you know what her goal is? Because frankly, I’m a little confused.”

“No, you’re not. You’ve already confronted her about it. She wants us together,” he said grimly. If he hadn’t known it before, he did now. This was the act of a very determined matchmaker.

“You mean me working for you,” Melanie replied, still trying for a positive spin.

“No, together together,” he said impatiently. “A couple.”

Melanie turned pale, and for the first time since entering his office, she sank onto a chair. “Are you sure?”

“Oh, yes. I know my aunt and she’s all but admitted as much, though if she’d been half as good at skirting the truth with Forsythe as she was with me, we wouldn’t be in this mess. That tells me she very deliberately spilled the beans.”

“This is crazy,” Melanie said. “She can’t just manipulate us into doing what she wants. We’re two reasonable adults who are perfectly capable of making our own decisions, and we’ve decided that we’re completely unsuited.” She met his gaze. “Haven’t we?”

“That was the way we left it this weekend,” Richard agreed.

“Then all we need to do is tell her that.”

“I did.”

“And?”

He dragged the paper out of the trash and waved it in her direction. “This was her response. She’s obviously not giving up.”

“She’s your aunt. Do something.”

Richard gave her a rueful look. He’d never been any good at thwarting Destiny when she was on a mission. It was smarter to give in than to wait to be mowed down. Maybe Melanie would have a better tactic.

“Any suggestions?” he asked.

He waited as her expression turned thoughtful, then forlorn.

“None,” she said finally. “You? You know her better than I do. Surely you can think of something to get her off this tangent.”

Short of strangling her, there weren’t a lot of viable options, even fewer he could live with. It struck Richard that they were simply going to have to play this out. He felt only minimally guilty that he didn’t feel nearly as bad about that as he probably should. Still, he managed a resigned air as he said grimly, “Then we have absolutely no choice. We give her what she wants.”

Melanie stared. “Huh?”

He grinned. “I thought you were quicker to catch on to things.”

“Not this,” she admitted. “This seems a little out there, like a publicity stunt that’s doomed to failure.”

“It’ll work. Trust me,” Richard said, injecting a note of certainty into his voice.

“Let me be sure I have this straight,” Melanie said, as if she were grappling with a Nobel Prize caliber physics theory. “You’re suggesting that you and I pretend to be together to get Destiny to back off?”

Watching the flash of heat in Melanie’s eyes, Richard began to warm to the idea. The part of himself he’d been struggling to ignore all weekend long was ecstatic about this new strategy, despite its obvious risks. In fact, he had no intention of looking too closely at the risks.

“That is exactly what I mean,” he said, trying not to sound too eager.

Melanie looked doubtful, not disgusted. He took that as a good sign.

“Won’t she be hard to convince?” she asked.

Richard considered his aunt’s insightful nature. “Very hard,” he agreed. In this case, that might work to his advantage. It would buy him some time to see if these odd feelings of his when he was around Melanie really meant anything. Since he’d never experienced anything quite like them before, he couldn’t be sure.

“Then where are we going to draw the line?”

Richard studied the woman seated on the edge of her chair, bright patches of color in her otherwise pale cheeks. “We might have to be a little flexible on that.”

Melanie shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she said adamantly. “Couldn’t you just hire me, the way she asked you to? Wouldn’t that satisfy her?”

“Sweetheart, I think it’s fairly clear by now that that was just a smoke screen. Heaven knows why, but she won’t be happy till we’ve walked down the aisle.”

Horror registered on Melanie’s face. “I am not marrying you.”

“No kidding,” he said, more than ready to agree with her on that. Not even he was prepared to carry this charade to that extreme, but a few weeks of getting close to Melanie and giving Destiny what she so clearly wanted held a certain undeniable appeal. “I think we can draw the line there. No marriage.”

“No sleeping together, either,” she added, giving him a hard stare. “I want to be clear about that, too.”

“We might have to negotiate on that one,” he said, feeling a whole lot better about things. Maybe he could turn this into a win-win situation instead of a disaster, after all. “So, Ms. Hart, you’re hired.”

She blinked in confusion. “As your new marketing person?”

“No. As my fiancée-to-be. No pay, but there will be a lot of perks.”

“You want me to market myself to your aunt as your fiancée?” she asked, her expression incredulous.

“Fiancée-to-be,” he corrected. “For starters.”

“Whatever,” Melanie said dismissively. “Isn’t that a huge leap? She can’t possibly think we’re engaged or even about to be engaged. We’ve just barely met, and she knows that first meeting did not go well at all.”

“Ah, but last weekend,” Richard said, affecting a tone of pure rapture.

“Oh, stuff a sock in it,” Melanie said irritably. “She won’t buy an engagement this quickly. She’s too smart for that. She might think I’m dumb enough to fall for you in ten seconds flat, but she’s bound to know that you’re not the type to fall in love at first sight. Heck, you’ve probably already told her that I’m not your type.”

He flushed at that. “Doesn’t matter. Destiny is a romantic at heart,” Richard said. He’d never noticed that about his aunt before, but her meddling was giving him whole new insights into her personality quirks. “She wants us together. If we go out a few times, let her catch us kissing from time to time, then say we’re engaged in a week or two, trust me, she won’t look any deeper.”

“This is crazy,” Melanie said again. “There has to be some other way besides lying to your aunt.”

He gazed into her eyes. “Let me be clear about something. This isn’t just about my aunt, Melanie. After Forsythe’s column, we have to convince the entire world that you and I fell madly, passionately in love and can’t bear to be apart.” He gave her a wry look. “It was the last thing either of us expected, of course.”

“Of course,” Melanie said with a decidedly sarcastic edge to her voice.

He picked up his pen and made a note to start arranging some family get-togethers, then glanced at Melanie, who looked as if she might be about to explode. “We’re all set, then, right?”

She stared at him incredulously. “No, we are not all set. I hate this.”

“I’m not crazy about it myself, but I can’t see any other solution. We have to make it real. People will forgive a prospective candidate a lot if there’s love involved. They’re not so forgiving of sleazy affairs.”

She was shaking her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Do you have a better plan to extricate us from this?”

She regarded him with an undeniable hint of desperation in her eyes, then sighed. “No.”

He took pity on her. “I’ll let you stage a bang-up scene when you dump me,” he offered, fairly sure that a chance to humiliate him would appeal to her baser instincts. It might make her feel better about letting him back her into this corner, which, frankly, was more fun than he’d had in ages. Maybe he did owe Destiny, after all.

As he’d predicted, Melanie looked intrigued by the prospect of getting even. “In public?” she bargained.

“Won’t be any fun if it’s not in public,” he agreed, willing to endure the humiliation if it gave him a few weeks to woo Melanie into his bed. That was his short-term—his only—goal. He had to remember that. Getting even with Destiny, getting public perception back on his side, those were purely a bonus. Happily-ever-after was out of the question. He didn’t believe in it. Or, perhaps more accurately, he didn’t trust himself to want it.

“How long do we carry out the charade before I get to dump you?” Melanie inquired.

Richard gave the question the serious consideration it deserved. Melanie had a right to know how much of a commitment she was making. “For as long as it takes to get Destiny off our backs and make it believable for everybody else.”

“A month?” she asked hopefully.

“She’ll never buy it.”

“Two?”

“How about six and we’ll see where we stand?” He gazed deeper into her eyes. “There’s no one in your life who’ll object, is there?”

“Sadly, no,” she said. “Believe me, I’d love to have an excuse to get out of this.” She gave him a knowing look. “But you knew that, didn’t you?”

“I was reasonably confident that you wouldn’t have traipsed after me to that cottage if there had been an important man in your life.”

Her gaze narrowed. “I came down there on business. Even if there was a man in my life, he wouldn’t have the right to object to me taking a business trip.”

“He wouldn’t have left you down there, snowbound with me, though, would he? Not if he had an ounce of sense. He’d have been there to rescue you by dawn on Saturday.”

“Nothing happened that needed to be explained or forgiven,” she retorted, eyes flashing.

Richard gave her an innocent look. “Really? Here I thought that was when we fell in love.”

Melanie groaned. “Do you have any idea how much I hate this?” she asked again.

“You’ve mentioned that,” he admitted. “But you’re going to go along with it, aren’t you?”

For a minute it almost looked as if she might balk, but then she finally nodded.

At her acquiescence—albeit reluctant—Richard felt the oddest sensation in his chest. It felt a whole lot like relief. Or maybe elation. He couldn’t be sure. It wasn’t a sensation he’d ever experienced before. That was happening a lot lately.

Melanie’s head was spinning. She had just agreed to pose as Richard’s almost-fiancée for the foreseeable future. There was no question in her mind that this was going to be a role she could handle by making an occasional appearance by his side in public. He was going to insist that she give it her all to make it believable, at least to one person. Unfortunately for both of them, there was also little doubt that Destiny was going to be a hard sell.

So why try? Melanie asked herself that repeatedly on the drive back to her office. Why had she agreed to this? Because she’d felt guilty over that stupid item in the morning paper? That hadn’t been her doing. Because she had some insane idea that this was the only way to get Destiny to leave them alone? Richard might be convinced of that, but she wasn’t. Not entirely, anyway. So, what was the real reason?

Because some teeny-tiny, totally insane part of her wanted it to be true. Even as the thought crept in, she was shouting no-no-no to herself as emphatically as she possibly could. The noise was so loud in her head, she barely heard the cell phone when it rang. Relieved to have an excuse to turn off her own chaotic thoughts, she punched the button on the dash that put the call on speaker.

“Yes,” she barked.

“Show time,” Richard said.

“What?”

“We’re having dinner with Destiny tonight.”

“How did that happen? I just left you ten minutes ago. Word couldn’t have gotten back to her that quickly.”

“I called,” he told her without the least hint of regret. “Preemptive strike.”

“Are you crazy? I haven’t even gotten used to the idea. I’ll bungle this.”

“Just follow my lead. I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear something glamorous. Destiny likes to dress for dinner.”

He hung up before Melanie could get a vehement objection to cross her lips. What was he thinking? Maybe he figured it was like swimming—better to toss her into the deep end to test her mettle than to wishy-wash around in the kiddie pool for weeks.

If she was going to do this, she needed help. She punched speed dial for her office.

“Becky, I need you to meet me at Chez Deux in ten minutes.”

“Why?”

“I’ll explain when I see you. Dig a charge card out of the office safe.”

“Which one?”

“The one with the biggest credit line,” she said grimly.

Under other circumstances, Melanie loved to shop. Not that she was ever extravagant, not with a comparatively new business to run, but she loved clothes. Chez Deux with its line of secondhand designer clothes suited her budget and her desire to dress for success. Normally, however, she was picking suits off the rack, not evening wear. If she forgot the reason for this shopping expedition, it could still be fun.

She found a parking space a block away, then trudged carefully over the cobblestone sidewalks to avoid the occasional patch of leftover ice.

“Hey, Jasmin,” she greeted the owner when she got to the classy little shop, which accepted consignments from many of Washington’s best-dressed women.

“Ms. Hart, how nice to see you,” Jasmin Trudeau said. “We have some lovely new suits in your size.”

“Not today. Today I’m looking for something a little fancier, for a formal dinner party.”

The petite woman’s eyes lit up. “Then the rumors are true, n’est-ce pas? I saw the story in this morning’s paper.”

Melanie wanted to deny it, but Jasmin was one of the city’s biggest sources of socialite gossip. If Melanie declared the story entirely untrue, it would be all over town by evening, pretty much defeating this charade she and Richard were embarking on.

“I am having dinner with Mr. Carlton tonight,” she admitted, leaving it at that.

“Then you must look your very best. I have just the thing,” Jasmin said. “It came in only yesterday. I have not even put it on the rack yet. One moment and I will get it for you.”

Becky arrived just then, looking harried and curious. “What on earth is going on?”

“I’m buying a dress,” Melanie said.

“I got that much. What kind of dress and why?”

“A fancy, expensive dress. I need the fortification.”

Becky stared at her blankly. “Huh?”

“Let me get this over with, and I’ll take you out for a long leisurely lunch, so you can tell me I haven’t completely lost my mind.”

Becky hid her disappointment and silenced her questions as Jasmin reappeared with a strapless dress in bronze satin.

“This dress was made for you,” Jasmin said. “Do not look at the price. If it looks as fabulous on you as I think it will, you will not care what it costs.”

Melanie was already itching to slip the rich fabric over her head. She took it gingerly and headed for a dressing room. In seconds she had stripped off her clothes and slipped the dress on. Only when she had it zipped up did she risk a look in the mirror. “Oh, my,” she whispered. She felt like Cinderella after she was outfitted for the ball, not quite like herself…or maybe more like herself than she’d ever been before.

“Hey, stop hiding in there and get out here,” Becky commanded. “Jasmin and I are dying of curiosity.”

Melanie stepped out of the dressing room. Both women’s eyes widened.

“You look fabulous,” Becky said.

“Mr. Carlton will not be able to resist you,” Jasmin added, as if that were a bonus.

Before Becky could ask what the heck the other woman meant by that, Melanie said quickly, “I’ll take the dress.” Jasmin had been right. She didn’t care what it cost. Whatever it was, it was a small price to pay to walk into Destiny’s house tonight feeling confident as she and Richard launched this charade. And she could always have it cleaned and bring it right back here on consignment to recoup some of the cost, though something told her she would never give it up.

Once she’d added an outrageously expensive jeweled purse, she signed the credit-card slip without giving it a second glance. Maybe if her accountant turned a blind eye, she could figure out some way to turn this into a business expense.

When the transaction was completed, she took her purchases to her car. Becky trailed along behind, muttering a barrage of questions that Melanie determinedly ignored. Only when her packages were stowed away and they were seated in a nearby restaurant with coffee on the table and salads on the way did she finally look her friend in the eye.

“You have to promise that you will never breathe one single word of what I am about to tell you,” she told Becky. “Not one word. Not to your own mother. Not even to a lawyer, a priest or anyone else sworn to uphold your confidentiality.”

Becky solemnly crossed her heart. “My God, Melanie, what have you done? You didn’t kill Pete For-sythe, did you?”

“No, though in retrospect, that might have made more sense than this.”

“Then you saw Richard?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“And he was furious?”

“About as furious as I anticipated when I told you I was going over there this morning to try to head off an explosion.”

“Did you figure out who leaked the story?”

“He’s convinced it was Destiny.”

“His own aunt?” Becky said incredulously.

Melanie nodded. “It gets worse. He’s also convinced she won’t be happy until he and I really are involved, so he’s decided we need to pretend that we are.”

Becky blinked hard, then her expression slowly changed to comprehension. “That explains the dress.”

“Yep. We’re having dinner with Destiny tonight.”

“You actually went along with this?” Becky asked, sounding incredulous. “You’re going to lie to a woman who befriended you?”

“A woman who befriended me with ulterior motives,” Melanie corrected. “It’s a fine point, but an important one.”

“Oh, brother.”

Melanie met Becky’s gaze. “Am I crazy?”

“Probably.”

“Is there any way this can not go horribly wrong?”

“Not that I can see,” Becky said, sounding surprisingly cheerful.

“Why are you suddenly finding this so amusing?” Melanie demanded.

“Because you are both so obviously delusional.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Richard thinks he’s doing this to get even with his aunt, am I right?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re doing it out of some misguided sense of guilt, correct?”

Melanie nodded.

“Ha!”

Melanie frowned at her. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re both doing it because you want it to be true. He wants to be involved with you. You want to be involved with him. Neither of you is willing to be honest about it.” Becky took a little bow. “You’re welcome.”

Melanie gave her a sour look. “I didn’t thank you.”

“You should have,” Becky told her. “It’s the most honest thing that’s been said at this table since we sat down.”

Melanie opened her mouth to deny it, then snapped her mouth shut again. There had been enough lies and half-truths and deceptions floating around today.

“This really is going to be a disaster, isn’t it?” she said eventually.

Becky nodded without hesitation. “That would be my assessment, yes.” She gave Melanie a sympathetic look. “You could still fix it.”

“How?”

“Make it real.”

“No. Neither of us wants that.”

Becky rolled her eyes.

“Okay, Richard doesn’t want that and I’m almost certain I don’t, either. We hardly know each other, but I do know he’s a man who’s not in touch with his feelings, he’s still a potential client and he’s stodgy. Those are all things that make him bad for me.”

“You’re hopeless,” Becky said. “At least I’m in touch with my feelings.” She grinned. “Jason is groveling, by the way. It’s lovely.”

“Good for Jason.” She gave Becky a defeated look. “How am I going to fix this?”

“You’re obviously not, at least not the mature, intelligent way, since you won’t acknowledge the truth. That means you have to go with the flow.”

“I’m lousy at going with the flow,” Melanie reminded her.

Becky grinned. “I know. That’s what’s going to make this so much fun to watch.”