Читать книгу Love In Logan Beach - Shirley Hailstock - Страница 11
ОглавлениеThe elevator doors slid open silently. Rose raised a foot, but stopped it in midair, allowing it to hang there before her balance tipped her sideways. As the doors began to close, she stepped out. Behind her the elevator closed, cutting off any escape she might want.
Uncomfortable in the heels she’d bought the day before, Rose paused and straightened her new suit jacket. She had only a few things left of her old life. Most were lost in the storm. Her current job didn’t require business attire. This was a new Rose. David Thorn’s office was at the end of the hall. Already his name was on the door. Rose’s stomach clenched. She moved slowly toward it. Without knocking, she opened the carved wooden portal and took in the room.
There were two offices, a reception area and a conference room. No one sat in reception. Nothing lay on the receptionists’ desk, indicating no one worked there. A clock on the wall was the only thing in the room that showed any life. The offices sat perpendicular to each other and the doors were open, allowing sunlight from the windows to spill out. To her eyes, the light was blinding.
Hearing the squeak of a chair, she looked toward the sound. David Thorn appeared in the doorway. It was all Rose could do to keep from gasping. She’d forgotten how good-looking he was. Six feet tall, brown eyes with a hint of amusement in them. He was dressed in a gray suit, although behind him she could see his jacket hanging on the back of his chair. She wondered if all he had were suits. He was a lawyer, maybe that’s why his wardrobe seemed to be made up of items from Harvé Benard.
She trembled, watching him. The unexpected reaction urging her to run was intense. She wanted more distance between them. She wanted to rush back to her apartment. It might be dark and furnished with secondhand pieces, but it was her sanctuary, a safe place where she could hide from the world.
Standing up taller, Rose reminded herself that she was no longer hiding. She was here. He’d challenged her to come, expecting her to find a reason, rational or not, to remain hidden in that apartment.
“Welcome,” David said. “I see you decided to accept my offer.”
The harshness of his tone a day ago was still fresh in her mind, although it was missing from today’s greeting.
“I didn’t have much choice,” she said.
“There’s always a choice.”
Spoken like an attorney. David dealt with choices.
“Let me show you around.” David moved toward her. Rose felt trapped. The door had swung closed when she came in, giving her no retreat. She was alone with him. Her heart pounded—she didn’t know from what.
Leading her to the second office, the one next to his, he said, “This one is yours.”
Rose swept her eyes around the room. It was bright, with a large desk facing the window, a couple of file cabinets and a credenza. The desk held a laptop computer and a printer. All the accessories matched. It was different from the mahogany appointments of her office at Bach’s. Rose couldn’t help but compare the old with the new.
“Anything you need, order,” he said.
Taking her to the conference room ended the short tour.
“Should I start right now?” she asked.
“What about your other job? I assumed you were working.”
“I was,” she said. “It’s finished.”
Rose didn’t tell him that when she handed in her notice, they had a replacement waiting.
“Then we can begin by touring the facility so you can see the construction.”
He left her briefly, going to his own office. He returned with two hard hats. Handing one to Rose, she noticed her name was embossed on it.
“You were that sure I’d come?” she asked, holding the hat with her name facing him.
David looked a little uncomfortable. “I hoped you’d see that coming back was the right thing to do.” He paused a moment before continuing. “I want to apologize for yesterday. I didn’t come to argue or badger you.”
“You were right,” she admitted, although it took a lot out of her to tell him that. “I’d been wallowing—I believe that was your word—for a long time. I need to take control of my own life.”
David nodded, pushing his hat on his head. “This way,” he said.
The walk to the old building, which Bach’s had occupied for several generations, was short. The building had a new facade. The Thorns hadn’t razed the old structure, one of the few left standing, although it had been severely damaged after the storm. The Bachs decided not to rebuild. They were past retirement age and wanted to spend more time with their grandchildren. Their decision had been a blow to Rose. She was to take over the store as manager when the older couple retired. After the storm, Rose and everyone else were out of jobs and most had sustained huge personal losses.
Rose walked around the first floor of the building. The walls were up. Drywall dust hung in the air. Painters were working in the distance. The ceiling lights were in place, although the ceiling itself was open and unfinished. The huge floor was open, but outlines were in place for certain departments.
“How do you like it?” David asked. He was obviously proud of what he saw. “Chandeliers will be placed along the full length of the room. They’re still on order.”
Rose’s gaze followed his. She imagined the light giving the place a rich look. On the floor were marks detailing the placement of display cases. She stepped onto one of them.
“What’s going here?” she asked.
“This is the area designed for fragrances, perfumes, special purchases.”
“It’s in the wrong place. Perfume counters should be over there.” Rose pointed to her left. “Here, people will walk into them. Scarves should be over here.” She started walking toward the area. David followed her, but she stopped suddenly and he bumped into her. His hands clasped around her upper arms to steady her.
Rose gasped. The touch of his hands was like fire on her skin. She pointed to a wall, deftly moving away from him. “And where is the children’s department?” she asked. “It needs to be over here.”
“It’s going to be on the third floor. This will reduce the noise level and we plan a full play area for the kids. Safety-wise, it’s better for all concerned.”
Rose walked quickly to the center of the area, where a sign that read Jewelry had been taped to the floor.
“You can’t put Jewelry here?” Rose said, her eyes wide.
“High-end jewelry will be on one side of the aisle and gemstones on the other.” David spread his arms to indicate what he meant.
Rose didn’t like the changes. The store had been set up for decades one way. Why change it now?
“Rosanna,” David said.
She took a long breath, letting it out slowly before turning to face him. She knew he was about to justify this new arrangement.
“I mean this in the best possible way. This is Thorn’s, not Bach’s. As Bach’s it was a wonderful store. It stood in Logan Beach as a staple for over a hundred years. We’re not trying to replicate Bach’s. They wouldn’t appreciate that.”
“What are we trying to do?” she asked. Rose was careful to keep her voice level and remove any sarcasm from it. She needed this job and David knew she needed it. He was going to be the person she reported to, so she should act like an employee. Why she wasn’t, she didn’t know. She did know, however, that the places on her arms where he’d touched her were still smarting and her heart had yet to return to a normal rhythm.
“We’ve tested this layout in other Thorn stores and it’s a scientific approach to crowd flow. Moving from one area to another is easier and usually in line with buying patterns. Those people who buy suits go on to purchase shoes and blouses.”
“I’m sure this has worked in other places, but you need to be aware how important it was for people here to return to things that are familiar.”
David took her arm and walked her away from the earshot of the workmen. Again Rose felt the electrical shock of his touch.
“Rosanna, as you told me, the hurricane happened. It’s not like people don’t know that or don’t want to put it behind them. Don’t you want to put it behind you?”
She hadn’t been prepared for that question. She turned away from him as memories rushed into her mind. David came up behind her before she had time to formulate an answer.
“I’m not asking that you forget it or pretend it didn’t happen,” he said. “It changed people. I get that. But if you plan to stay in Logan Beach, then you have to be willing to accept the change.”
“We are accepting the change,” she said tightly. “We have no choice but to accept it. The people of Logan Beach have been through a crisis and they feel comfortable knowing that some things are the same, comfortable.”
David moved around to face her. “I do understand. And I can’t undo what’s happened. No one is the same. Starting over shows the renewal of life.”
Hating to have her own words thrown in her face, Rose remained quiet.
David dropped his shoulders as if in defeat. “Rosanna, trust me. When the store opens, people will be happy to see something new. They’ll welcome the fact that we didn’t try to duplicate Bach’s.”
Rose hunched and dropped her shoulders. She had no choice in this matter. Thorn’s owned the building and everything that went with it. All that would happen to her would be that she’d be out on the street again. But as for trusting him? That was something she couldn’t do. She could accept changes in the store. She had ideas for the better placement of departments. She’d never written any of them down, but her plan had been that when the Bachs retired and left her in charge, she would restructure some of the areas. The difference between her and David was she would have done them a few at a time.
David was ripping the bandage off in one swift snap.
But then wasn’t that how she removed bandages?
* * *
Those beautiful eyes glanced up from the computer screen when David knocked on Rosanna’s door. They were light brown and foretelling was the only word he could use to describe them. She wore makeup today, not like when he’d surprised her by pushing into her apartment. It highlighted her eyes to the point of mesmerizing.
“You must be tired of reading papers and screens.”
“Some of it is interesting,” she said.
“Shut it down. That’s enough for today. Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Her expression didn’t change as she glanced at her arm, looking for the time, but there was no watch there. Angling her head, she checked the clock on the wall in the reception area. He looked in the same direction. It was three o’clock and she’d been at it for hours. Boring hours, if David thought about it, although he didn’t really know her background or her temperament, only that she wasn’t thrilled that the Thorns had taken over Bach’s.
“Coffee?” he asked.
“I’d love a cup.”
“There’s a quaint little bakery not far from here. We could get some coffee there.”
“I’m familiar with it,” she said.
Of course she was, David thought as they headed out. She’d worked in this area for years. She probably knew everything about it and the whole of Logan Beach.
David had known it as a bakery in his youth. Now it was a coffee house with some baked goods. They served at least twenty types of coffee, a variety of teas and a few pastries.
“What would you like?” David asked as they approached the counter.
“Plain coffee,” she said.
“Black? Cream and sugar?” he asked.
“I’ll add them,” she answered.
David waited until she’d added a drop of cream and two sugars to her cup before speaking.
“Don’t think of this as an interview or anything,” he said. “The job is already yours, barring any unforeseen circumstances. I thought we could use this time as a sort of getting-to-know-you exercise.”
“Getting to know you?” she queried.
He nodded. “Like the Miss America candidates do. I know you can’t live around here and not know all the details about that contest.”
Atlantic City was only half an hour from Logan Beach. The annual beauty contestants sometimes spilled into Logan Beach for photo shoots.
“I’ll start,” David told her. He understood she was apprehensive. He was technically her boss and he knew the dynamics that came into play when a person didn’t know the reason for the meeting.
“I was a summer resident here. My uncle used to rent a house and bring my brothers and me along with his sons here for a month.”
“So you’re not a stranger to the area?”
She gazed at him, cradling her coffee cup in both hands as if she needed it to warm her. Her voice held surprise that he was familiar with the city.
“I haven’t been here in a couple of years, but I used to come every summer, even while I was in law school.” Logan Beach wasn’t that big, even though it had a long coastline. Yet David had never run into her. He’d been in the Bach’s store. As a member of a family running department stores, he couldn’t go anywhere and not check out the competition. It was a family requirement. He wondered if his reports about Bach’s had interested his parents in the store once it was for sale.
“Most people come here for the beach. Is that what attracted your family?” Rosanna asked.
“I think it was just a place to let five boys run wild.” He laughed, but Rosanna didn’t. “How did you get here?”
“I was born in Logan Beach.”
No elaboration. David was used to people continuing to talk, more than they should in some cases.
“Any siblings?”
“Only child.”
“Were you a lonely only child?” he asked pointedly.
Rosanna stared at him. “No. My life was filled with friends and activities.”
“What kind of activities?” He was trying to get her to talk, to open up. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask about dance lessons, sports, anything young girls would do, but thought that would elicit another one-word answer.
“The normal ones—tennis, horseback riding at Island Beach, roller blading, gymnastics, swimming, dances, cotillions and proms.”
“Do you still ride and play tennis?”
“Sometimes.”
“Maybe we can have a company league and play regularly.”
“Would you like me to add that as an employee recreational option?”
He shook his head. “We’re going to have a lot to do and when our human resources department is up and running, they can work on that. But we’re not here for work.”
“Yes.” Rosanna’s head bobbed up and down. “The getting-to-know-you meeting.”
“It’s not a meeting.”
She took a drink of her coffee. David thought it must be cold by now.
“Would you like a fresh one?” he asked.
She shook her head. “We lived across from the beach. My carefree days were spent with friends, swimming and going to parties. I went to college in Atlanta—Clark Atlanta University. I majored in business finance and minored in music.”
Music, he thought, but didn’t say anything. She’d finally begun to speak in sentences of more than one word and he didn’t want to stop her with questions.
“When I returned home, I got a job with a brokerage house in Philadelphia. I hated the commute. One day I saw an ad for a job in the finance department at Bach’s. I got it and expressed an interest in being a buyer. Mrs. Bach took me aside and taught me the ropes. From there I advanced to assistant manager.”
Rosanna had delivered the speech as if she was reciting her résumé.
“During college, other than being an A student, what did you do?”
She looked at him. “How do you know I was an A student?”
“Something about you says it. And the Bachs gave you a glowing recommendation.”
“Well, I wasn’t an A student.”
“Then you were a fun student. What did you do for fun?”
She smiled. She must have remembered something.
“That’s it,” he said.
“What?”
“You smiled. I’ve been hoping you would.”
“What?” she asked again.
“I believe that’s the first time I’ve seen you smile since we met.”
“Sorry, it won’t happen again.”
David stared at her, then saw her straight face turn into a small smile. “So you do have a sense of humor.”
“Did you think I lost it in the storm?” Again Rosanna’s face had only the shadow of a smile on it, but David realized she was kidding.
“One day maybe I’ll get a full, unadulterated laugh.”
“I’ll work on it,” she said.
* * *
“So, how was your first day?” Amber asked, pouring them both a glass of wine.
Rose accepted hers and curled her bare feet under her as she sat on Amber’s sofa. The two women had met during the storm’s crisis and shared the same makeshift hospital tent. The experience bonded them as if they’d been friends from birth.
“Exhausting,” Rose answered. “I needed a hard hat to tour the store.”
“A tour conducted by Mr. Thorn, I take it?”
Her glib tone was unmistakable, especially as it was followed by a Cheshire-cat smile and a fluttering of her eyelids as she took a sip of her wine.
Rose nodded, taking a sip of her own drink.
“So, spill, how was he? Is he as good-looking as his photo?”
“Photo? What photo?” she repeated.
“I looked him up on the internet. Apparently, the entire family is made up of gorgeous guys.”
Rose had looked up the Thorns, too. She’d seen David’s photo, maybe the same one Amber was referring to. She hadn’t even made the decision to accept David’s offer until she left the casino in the early morning hours.
“He’s tall, around six feet. Dresses and acts like a lawyer.”
“Don’t compare him to the Bachs. They’re bound to have different management styles.”
Rose rolled her eyes. “They do. He’s changing everything. The store won’t be recognizable.”
“It’ll be a House of Thorn’s store,” Amber said.
Rose took another sip of her wine. Amber was a realist and didn’t pull punches. She said what came to her mind. David came to Rose’s mind. She wondered what photo Amber had seen. David had a power that surrounded him. You immediately knew he was in control. He was a decision maker. She could imagine him in court, arguing before a jury and convincing them that his point of law was the correct and only decision they could come to.
“Thinking about him?”
Amber’s question caught her off guard.
“Who?” she asked, but they both knew the answer to that.
Amber frowned, screwing her face up in an exasperated expression.
“I wasn’t,” Rose lied. “I was thinking about the building layout.” She wasn’t thinking about the store, but the strange conversation they’d had in the bakery.
“That’s your story...” Amber left the rest of the cliché hanging. “You are going back tomorrow, right?”
Rose signed and nodded. “I’ve spent too many years in retail that I don’t know how to do anything else.”
“You could learn,” Amber told her.
“I feel like I’m starting all over again anyway. They might as well put me in the mailroom.”
Amber sat forward. Placing her glass on the coffee table, she looked directly at Rose. “We’re strong. We’ll survive. We can do anything. We’re invincible,” Amber said, reciting one of the mantras they’d said over and over during the storm.
Rose smiled. “Yes, we can,” she said. “But maybe not in a casino making change.”
Both women laughed.
* * *
When Rose arrived the next morning, she was wearing gray pants and a green blouse with a dark green jacket. The outfit looked like a suit, but Rose had put it together.
In the middle of her desk was a large white envelope with her name on it. Opening it, she found employment forms, insurance papers, a W-9 form, a confidentiality form and a notice about security cameras.
“I should have given these to you yesterday,” David said from where he stood in her doorway. “They’re a formality, but they must be filed to make everything legal.”
Rose nodded. David took a step into the office. “There’s another envelope,” he said.
Rose picked up the white, legal-size envelope. It was sealed and had nothing except the return address of the store in the corner. She opened it and inside was an offer letter and a signing bonus check. Rose’s eyes widened when she saw the amount. She hadn’t seen that much money since the Christmas bonus from the Bachs three years ago. Mist rushed to her eyes and she forced herself not to cry.
Rose wondered if David knew what this check meant to her. She wore borrowed clothes and subsisted on simple food. It wasn’t that she hadn’t tried to find other employment, but since the storm there were few places to work. Her savings were practically gone and she hadn’t known what would happen when her bank account reached zero. If David Thorn wasn’t standing in her doorway, she’d break down and cry. Forcing herself to remain calm, she looked up at him.
“Thank you,” she whispered. Emotion kept her voice from its normal level.
She looked down at the forms, expecting David to leave her alone to fill them out. Instead he took the chair in front of her desk. Rose looked at him expectantly.
“You can fill those out and give them back to me next week. Right now, I have something for you to do.”
“All right,” Rose said. Her duties hadn’t been spelled out and she looked forward to having a purpose.
“I thought about what you said yesterday when we were touring the store.”
“I was out of line—” she began.
David raised his hand to stop her apology. Rose heeded his warning and stood waiting.
“First, I’d like you to forget how things used to be.” David paused, but Rose decided not to challenge the remark. “If you could design the store of your dreams, if you could start from scratch and do whatever you wanted, what would your store look like?”
Rose had to think about that. “You want an answer now? Off the top of my head?”
“Not every nail and wall-color choice, just what would it look like?”
Rose thought for a long moment. Pushing the envelope aside, she searched for paper. Inside a drawer, she found a yellow legal pad and pulled it out. She began drawing squares to indicate areas of the floor. She chose the bridal department to begin with. David watched her. Between them was a desk light. He looked over it and bobbed his head several times as he followed her train of thought.
“Lights would be here to showcase the display case.”
He got up and moved around, pulling his chair so he sat next to her.
Rose felt all the air in the room leave it. She felt the heat of his body, smelled the aftershave he used. Her eyes closed a moment and she took in the erotic nature of it. David asked a question, drawing her back to the task. She didn’t hear it.
“What was that?” she asked.
“What is in this area?” He used his finger to circle a large open area.
Rose drew a 3-D circle. “This is where the bride stands to show off her dress.” Drawing basic lines at right angles to represent chairs, and arches to represent a walkway, she said, “The bride comes down this aisle and steps onto the pedestal. Any family or friends with her will see her in a ceremony setting.”
“I like it,” he said.
His hand dropped on her shoulder. Rose’s throat went dry and she could feel the heat of his touch through her suit jacket and blouse, searing into her skin.
“Maybe we’ll give some of this to the designer and see what she thinks.”
A knife plunging into Rose’s gut would have felt better than his words. These were her thoughts. She hadn’t expected him to take them and give them away. She pushed the pad toward him in a dismissive manner. He got what he wanted, now someone else could take over the business of putting it together, changing it to their way of thinking. Rose expected nothing to be the same as her vision of the department.
“We haven’t really gone over my duties yet,” she said.
“You’re the assistant manager. I suppose your duties are the same as they were under the Bachs.”
“That was a fully stocked store with employees already hired. I dealt with buyers, personnel, shipping, mail order, budgets, payroll, everything the Bachs didn’t handle.”
“You can do the same here.”
“That’s an open catalog,” Rose said.
“If you need help, hire someone. You’re the assistant manager,” he repeated.
Cocking her head, Rose scrutinized David Thorn. She didn’t know him, didn’t understand his motives. She wondered if he was really trusting her, or if he wanted to see what she would do with the authority he gave her. She’d had this job before and she was comfortable with it. She could do whatever the store needed.
And she’d prove it.
* * *
David left for the day wondering about Rosanna. As he pulled his car into the rush hour traffic, Rosanna was still on his mind. She remained an enigma to him. Usually he read people easily. He’d been trained to observe them, get at the underlying causes of problems or secrets they held. But with her it was like trying to open an oyster with a toothpick.
He hadn’t realized where he was driving and when he saw the small sign reading Legal Aid Office, David stopped. He hadn’t met any lawyers since he arrived in Logan Beach and this was a perfect time.
Inside, the place was crowded, even at six o’clock in the evening. The office seemed to accommodate those who couldn’t come during the nine-to-five workday.
“May I help you?” asked a large woman wearing a bad wig. She sat behind a high desk and looked him up and down in a gesture that said he didn’t appear to look like the usual people who come to a legal-aid office.
“I’m an attorney and stopped by to say hello and introduce myself.” He handed her his card.
She glanced at it and then up at him. “House of Thorn,” she said. “Isn’t that the new store that’s going up across town?”
“It is.”
“Are you representing them in some action?”
“No, I guess I wasn’t very clear. I’m not introducing myself as someone’s lawyer.”
“Then are you here to help?” she asked.
David hadn’t thought of helping. He’d just come to meet other colleagues in his profession. But the question caught him off guard.
“I don’t think I can. I am with the store, just didn’t know any other lawyers in Logan Beach. How many work here?”
“Not nearly enough,” she said as a man approached the desk. “Perfect timing. Paul, meet Mr. Thorn of the House of Thorn. He’s a lawyer and wants to meet some other lawyers. This is Paul Varga—he runs the place.”
The two shook hands. “Are you here to volunteer?”
“I take it you’re shorthanded,” David said, since he’d been asked the same question within two minutes of entering the building.
“Very.”
“I’d like to help you out, but my hands are full right now.”
“Well, maybe some time in the future. Stop by anytime. We can always put you to work.”
Someone came up to Paul and his attention was gone. David realized he’d been dismissed. It wasn’t something that happened to him often. Paul was busy. People called to him from every direction. There wasn’t much time to talk to someone not willing to help.
David nodded to the woman behind the desk and left the building. He slipped into the driver’s seat, but didn’t start the engine. His office in New York was clean and tidy, with law books and a waiting room. This place was little more than a warehouse with mismatched chairs and working men and women waiting for a straw of help.
He needed to help. David felt the calling of his profession. He knew Thorn’s was his priority. Things were going well and they were on schedule, but there was a lot of overseeing to do. He couldn’t possibly leave everything to Rosanna.
Reaching for the ignition, he stopped, his finger on the start button. He didn’t press it, but took his foot off the brake and opened the car door.
