Read Against All Odds (Arabesque) Online
Authors: Gwynne Forster
“I’m congratulating myself on not having insisted that she take that bet, because I’d planned to ask her to put up a few months of her time as collateral.”
Melissa sat forward, alert, when Wayne asked Adam, “What were you planning to wager?”
Her breath stuck in her lungs while she waited for Adam’s answer, staring as his shoulders bunched in a half hearted shrug.
“Myself.” Air zinged through Wayne’s teeth in a loud whistle.
At halftime Adam stood and wound his scarf more tightly around his neck. “I’m going for coffee. Would either of you like anything else? Peanuts, maybe?” Melissa nodded agreement, wondering why Adam would deliberately leave her alone with Wayne. Adam’s brother seemed friendly enough, but how would he behave once they were alone? She was still a Grant. In the heavy silence a less self-possessed person might have resorted to small talk or rambling, but Melissa didn’t say anything. She knew Wayne would take advantage of the opportunity, so she waited for him to speak.
“Do you love him?”
Taken aback, she turned toward him, thinking that bluntness must be one of their family traits. “Adam doesn’t know the answer to that question, Wayne, and you shouldn’t know before he does.”
“Do you know the answer?”
She noticed that his voice wasn’t hostile, and from his relaxed manner he didn’t appear to want to aggravate her. So she answered him honestly.
“I try not to think about it. I haven’t faced it. I don’t know how your family has reacted to the friendship between Adam and me, but because of it my father barely speaks to me.”
“Scared?”
“You could say that. Maybe.”
“Adam is a different man when he’s with you. If I didn’t see him laughing and teasing with you with almost childlike enjoyment, nobody would make me believe it. Well, the jury’s still out, but I have a feeling that if the two of you break up, it won’t be due to any outside force or faction.”
“What do you mean?”
“I know the hostility between our families worries you. It plagues all of us, but it won’t be the cause of permanent cleavage between you and Adam. Only the two of you can ruin your friendship.”
She stared at him. “How can you be so sure?”
“Melissa, I know Adam. And you’re not a patsy, either.” He paused. “Adam hasn’t told me anything about you. Where’d you go to school?” She told him, adding that her degree was a master’s in business administration. Several people sitting below them turned around when Wayne’s whistle pierced the air.
“So you two have the same degree. This gets more interesting all the time. Hold on, I’ll get that for you.” He reached between their seats and retrieved her umbrella. “What’s this thing for?”
“We’re supposed to have rain or snow, and I hate getting wet when I’m not dressed for it.”
He laughed. “Cover all bases, do you? I thought we weren’t expecting a change in weather until after midnight. Are you another of these people who leaves nothing to chance? If you are, Adam’s meticulousness probably doesn’t bother you. It can wear on me.”
She looked up as Adam placed a tray of coffee in her lap. Wayne took it from her, removed the lids, and gave her and Adam each a cup. They drank their coffee and nibbled the nuts in companionable silence, but Melissa had the impression that Wayne had warmed up to her. He held his empty cup for her peanut shells and took her own empty cup before Adam could reach for it.
* * *
Melissa pulled up the collar of her coat to ward off the late fall chill as they walked to the car. Adam’s arm snuggled her close to him, and his gloved fingers toyed with her cold nose, and she had a delicious feeling that he cherished her and was protective of her. Excitement wafted through her, and she reveled in Adam’s attentiveness, though he always showed concern for her. His openness with it in his brother’s presence lit up her whole being.
When they reached the car, Adam slapped Wayne’s shoulder. “You drive back.”
“You’re ordering me to chauffeur so you two can make out in the backseat.”
Adam attempted to stare Wayne down, feigning distaste for the presumptuous remark, but Wayne protested. “I’m telling it like it is, brother.”
Melissa couldn’t help but marvel at their camaraderie. Maybe a brother and a sister couldn’t be that close, she surmised. Or maybe the environment in which she and Schyler had grown up hadn’t been conducive to that kind of love and affectionate exchanges.
When Wayne eased the Jaguar toward MacArthur Boulevard and Route 270 to Frederick, Adam leaned back in the seat, winked at Melissa, and announced that he was sleepy.
“Watch your step back there, Melissa,” Wayne warned. “He’s a fox that I wouldn’t let anywhere near my chickens.”
“You sound downright friendly,” Adam said in a voice that Melissa thought strained and tension-filled. The silence weighed on her, for she knew that if Wayne bothered to reply, both she and Adam would know his reaction to their relationship.
Wayne turned off the radio. “I am. To both of you.” She didn’t know what response she’d expected from Adam, but he didn’t say that he was glad nor did he thank his brother. But as she mused over their afternoon and evening, she concluded that Adam hadn’t brought Wayne and her together in order to gain his brother’s approval, but to give him a chance to make a more informed opinion of her. What a man.
“Let yourself out at Beaver Ridge, Wayne. I’ll take Melissa home. If Rafer sees the two of us anywhere near that house on Teal Street, he’ll lose control for sure.”
Wayne reduced the Jaguar’s speed as he entered the town limits, glanced into the rearview mirror and spoke as though surprised. “I thought you’d moved, Melissa.”
“She moved,” Adam said, “but Daddy’s omnipresent gaze sweeps a very wide area.” Annoyance at the sarcasm in his voice jerked her out of her reverie and out of his arms.
He made no effort to bring her back to him, and she slumped in the seat. Another lovely evening had been derailed by that ridiculous feud.
* * *
Adam secured the front door and walked down the lengthy and richly carpeted hallway toward the family room, where he knew Wayne waited for him. About halfway there he glanced toward a portrait of Jacob Hayes that had hung there ever since he’d known himself. The old man’s intelligent eyes with their piercing and unsmiling twinkle always seemed to follow him when he passed. He stared at his grandfather’s likeness until he heard Wayne call to him, shook his fist at the old man and walked on, less purposefully than usual.
“You’ve got your work cut out for you.”
“Meaning?” Adam knew he’d have to talk with Wayne about Melissa, but he didn’t intend to discuss her merits or lack of them. Not with Wayne or anyone else.
Wayne whistled. “Touchy, aren’t we? What I mean is you haven’t won her, but you can get her, though, because she is susceptible to you. Your problem is you’ve got her kin and our mother to deal with, and by the time they wear you out, you may say the hell with it.”
Adam walked over to the bar, got some ice cubes, and poured two fingers of bourbon over them. He twirled the amber liquid around in the glass in what Wayne had to recognize as a means of gaining time while he thought out his next words. He didn’t intend to seek his brother’s opinion of Melissa, but he couldn’t resist asking, “But not you? You’re saying that I don’t have to deal with you?” He smiled at Wayne’s elaborate shrug, his brother’s signature gesture.
“You two were made for each other.”
Adam quirked an eyebrow in disbelief. “You’re not even skeptical?”
“I liked what I saw of her, and I know you well.”
“In many respects, yes, but not in this context.”
Wayne paced the floor with uncharacteristic deliberateness, his hands in his pockets. “I may not know what you want in a woman, but I know what you ought to be looking for, and I’ve gained a good sense of Melissa’s personality. She’s the perfect foil for your tough cynicism. She’s patient, determined, and independent, but she’s soft, too. And she’s smart. She respects you, but unlike a lot of people who know you, she’s not afraid of you. And she wants you. She’s the woman for you, alright.”
Adam shuttered his eyes. “Damned if you haven’t become clairvoyant. Good night.” Halfway down the hall, he turned and walked back to the family room where he found Wayne drinking the untouched bourbon on ice. “I’m glad you like her. Shows you that the words Morris-Grant and Satan aren’t necessarily interchangeable. A lot of times, maybe, but now you’ll acknowledge at least one exception.”
* * *
Melissa mulled over the afternoon and evening events, unable to fall asleep. Adam Roundtree was not a wishy-washy man. He knew where he was going, but he hadn’t revealed it to her. Whatever he’d planned to do about their relationship, he’d guarded as closely as a miser does his money. She knew he had to consider his family just as she worried about the reaction of her father and brother, but she didn’t doubt he’d decide independently of anything his folks said or did. So what accounted for his halfhearted courtship, his reluctance to go after what she knew he wanted? She had a niggling feeling that Adam’s caution about her went beyond concern for the ruptured relationship between their families.
She had always been able to arrive at a decision and stick to it, but this time her head and heart were at odds, and where Adam was concerned, both exerted a powerful pull. She didn’t fool herself: she loved being with Adam. But he’s a Roundtree, an enemy of your family, her mind cautioned. He’s a strong man with the temerity to stand up to your father, whom you’ve never known to back down, her common sense replied. And he makes you feel what you’ve never felt before, makes you want what you’ve never wanted before and what you know you can hardly wait to have, her unreasonable heart argued. She turned over in bed, exhausted by her mental struggle.
She sat up in bed and pulled the pale yellow bedding up to her shoulders. If only she’d switched off the phone. Surely her father wouldn’t interrupt her sleep to harass her about Adam. At the sound of her mother’s soft voice, she knew intense relief.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, dear, but I figured you hadn’t gone to sleep. Your father’s nephew—you know, Timmy, called this afternoon. He said you asked him to fill in a questionnaire and send it to you, but he said the questionnaire doesn’t have anything to do with him. Call him, dear. He’s called a few times since you’ve been home, and he always asks about you. Do what you can for him, honey.”
“I will, Mama, but not at the expense of my hard-earned reputation. I wish Daddy hadn’t started this.”
“Well, you know how he is,” Emily soothed. “Do what you can.” Melissa hung up, frustrated and angry at her father for having interfered in her business.
Melissa put the pillow behind her back, propped her elbows on her knees, and tried to think. She’d try to help him, but how could she if he didn’t do what she told him to do? I don’t think he wants a job, she told herself. He wants to hang out in my office and get paid. No way.
Chapter 7
A
call from her New York secretary several days later sent Melissa scurrying to New York City. Before she’d agree to find an executive position for an employee of Jenkins, Roundtree, and Tillman, she’d have to make certain that the man’s efforts to relocate weren’t calculated to hurt Adam. She wouldn’t work for him without first interviewing him and finding out why he wanted to change jobs. The slow, bumper-to-bumper taxi ride from La Guardia Airport into Manhattan and the impatient horn-tooting of the drivers reminded her of the things she disliked about New York. Still, she had missed its museums and galleries, the little West Side bistros, its music—classical, jazz, and unclassifiable, the multitude of bookstores, and the ever-changing street scenes.
She registered at the Drake Hotel, settled in, called the secretary she shared with Crow and Ankers, and arranged for an appointment with a man she discovered was Jason Court’s assistant. She plodded across the modest-sized but beautiful room and looked down on Park Avenue, killing precious time while she gazed unseeing at the speeding cars, the fur-coated women of leisure, and the corporate males who were too macho to put on an overcoat as they went out to lunch in the thirty-six-degree weather.
Ordinarily she’d be making notes for the next day’s interview, researching the type of business or industry in which the man wanted to work, but she did none of this. She paced the floor. If she didn’t take the job, the man would get assistance elsewhere. If she worked for him and succeeding in placing him, how would it affect Adam?
She had to pull herself out of that mood. Ilona answered at the phone’s first ring. “Melissa, darling, you became sick of this place with no ballet and came back to civilization? Where are you?” At Melissa’s reply, she complained, “Darling, you should have stayed with me. We need to have a good talk.”
Melissa knew she wouldn’t have contemplated such a thing. She had heard Ilona recount her escapades and seen her swoon over thoughts of her past lovers so many times that she could put on the show herself. She didn’t relish being Ilona’s captive audience in a bachelor apartment. They agreed to meet for dinner at a restaurant on Columbus Avenue, a choice Melissa regretted when she recalled light, happy times there with Adam early in their relationship.
Melissa dressed in a chic, brown ultrasuede business suit, complemented it with a cowl-necked orange cashmere sweater, brown suede shoes and brown leather briefcase, put on her Blass vicuna coat, and stepped out into the morning cold. It didn’t even take a day for me to revert to form and turn back into a New Yorker, she admitted to herself as though it was an indictment. Where else do women dress with a briefcase instead of a pocketbook?
If the man had been tardy, if he had behaved condescendingly toward her, or if she had disliked him for any reason, she could in good conscience have refused to take the job. But as she had once told Adam, her criteria for accepting a client were whether she thought she could fulfill the terms of agreement and whether her integrity would be compromised in any way. She signed the contract and collected her mail, went back to the Drake, packed, and got a flight to Frederick via Baltimore.
Within a few days she’d located three firms that began aggressive bidding for the man when it was learned that he had worked for Adam Roundtree and that it was his decision to leave. Wary of corporate spying, she called Adam.
* * *
“So that’s where you’ve been,” Adam said. She had to know that her having left town without a word displeased him. They were not committed to each other, and she wasn’t obligated to inform him of her whereabouts, but they were more than friends. Or were they? He’d been vexed and a little hurt and had refused to ask her secretary where she was. Her reply told him she’d detected his annoyance.
“Adam, when I left here, I didn’t know what the man wanted nor when he wanted to leave Jenkins, Roundtree, and Tillman. I’m telling you, now that I have the facts, because it’s the decent thing to do. I haven’t placed him, but I can offer him one of three firms, all of which are anxious to get him, and one of them is your competitor. I hesitate to introduce him to your enemy, and I want to know what you think.”
A muscle tensed in his jaw. She hadn’t understood his comment on her whereabouts. Well, so much the better. “Dan’s my best middle-level salesman, but if he wants to leave my shop, he can go. If you don’t place him, someone else will, and I’d as soon you got the profit.”
“I was planning to place him, but I wanted you to know. My question was where to put him.” Her long pause alerted Adam to the possibility that her next words might not please him, and they didn’t.
“Adam, I think you should know that your biggest competitor is trying to raid your shop.”
“Not to worry. Ken Bradley is less of a competitor than he thinks.” Still, he didn’t like the man enticing away one of his most valuable employees.
“You told me not to tell you how to run your office, but I think you ought to get back to New York for a spell.” His antennae up, he tried to figure out what she’d left unsaid.
“Are you saying—”
“I turned down two offers of a contract to get Jason Court away from you. The fat cats in New York think that because you’re not there, you’re a sitting duck.”
Adam bristled, angry at himself because he might have left his flank unprotected. “If they think I’m not in control of my office, they’re a pile of bricks short of a full load. I’ll get up there. Thanks. Oh, Melissa,” he added in an afterthought, “I should be back in a few days. Stay out of mischief.”
“Stay out of... Me? Do what?” she sputtered. “You’re full of it, Adam. Just keep it up. One of these days you’re going to get a hole in your sails.” Her laughter floated through the wire to him.
“Don’t sweat over the thought, baby. With any luck, you’ll be in the boat with me when it happens. I can’t wait to drown with you. In fact there are times when I can think of little else.” He waited, hoping to get her sharpest dart.
“I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings, but you’d better look forward to a long life, sweetie—” she emphasized the
sweetie
“—because I’m a survivor.” A riot of sensations darted through him at the sound of her husky giggle. She wasn’t satisfied to challenge him, she had to entice him as well. But he’d have his day.
“Any man with an iota of sense knows when he gets an invitation to try harder, Melissa.” Insinuation punctuated his words. “And ignoring opportunities, however thinly veiled, is not something I do. See you when I get back.”
He buzzed his secretary. “I need to be in New York tomorrow morning at eight o’clock. Do what you can to get me a plane out of here tonight. If necessary, phone Wayne and ask him to call in some favors.” He leaned back in his chair and stroked his chin. Would a person who would double-cross him have done as Melissa had, and would she risk his asking her not to place Dan? He had yet to find any solid evidence that Melissa lacked integrity. But how else could the sabotage at Leather and Hides be explained? What if her warning was a ruse to get him away from Frederick? He tossed his head to the side and grasped his chin with his tapered brown fingers, pensive. How had he allowed himself to crave a woman he wasn’t sure he could trust?
He walked into his suite of New York offices the next morning to find things as he’d left them. Olivia hovered about, obviously happy to see him. “You look good, yourself,” he said in response to her compliment. “I want to speak first with Jason and then with Lester.” He assured Jason that his arrival unannounced did not indicate a lack of confidence.
“I’ve been told the raiders are busy. Any truth in it?” Before Jason spoke, his slow nod and straight-in-the-eye stare gave Adam the assurance he needed.
“Plenty, but as far as I know, you don’t have anything to worry about. Dan wants to leave, and that’s for the best. He’s in love with Virginia, and she’s engaged to marry another guy. He figures he can get another good job easier than she can, and he doesn’t want to be around her anymore.”
Adam’s whistle alerted any of the staff who didn’t already know it that the boss was in his office. “He’s in love with his secretary? How long’s that been going on?”
Jason shrugged eloquently. “Since the minute he first saw her, though she didn’t reciprocate the feeling, but he didn’t give up until she got engaged.”
“Well, hell! I’m sorry to see him leave, but you’re right—no point in staying around her, unless he’s a masochist. What about you? My source also tells me they’re after you.”
“I’ve had several feelers and a couple of offers. But if I wanted to move, man, you’d be the first to know it. I believe in hanging out with the champ, Adam, and from where I sit, you’re it.”
Adam had to hide his relief. “What about Lester?” Jason’s jaw hardened, and Adam worked hard at squelching a laugh.
“He rings your bell, does he?”
Jason grimaced. “I’d bet my AT&T stock that Lester rings his mother’s bell.”
Adam laughed outright. “Not to worry, Jason. Nothing lasts forever.” He made a mental note to give Jason a raise. Loyalty was very important to him and deserved reward. He spoke with Lester and decided that when he returned to the office full time, he wouldn’t keep the man, held a staff meeting, and satisfied that his employees weren’t contemplating leaving him, headed back to Frederick that afternoon.
Why such hurry to get to Beaver Ridge? he asked himself. He hadn’t even bothered to go to Thompson’s and get his favorite pastrami sandwich or to Sognelle’s Cajun Kitchen for some hot ribs and boudin, and he wouldn’t get any of either until he got back. He settled himself into his business-class TWA seat. “It’s time I had a talk with myself,” he acknowledged. “She’s the reason I’m in a hurry. I misjudged her this time, and...” Disgusted with himself, he opened his briefcase and tried to work. “Hell, nobody’s going to scramble my brain like this.” He closed the file and looked at his watch. Another couple of hours; if he was lucky, she’d be home.
He phoned her from the airport. “Have dinner with me.”
“And hello to you, too, Mr. Roundtree.”
He shrugged off her gentle rebuke. “At least you recognized my voice. I hope you don’t have other plans. Do you?” When she didn’t respond immediately, he continued. “What time shall I come for you? I’d like an early dinner, if possible.” She asked if he’d skipped lunch.
“You might say that.” Let her think what she liked. He wanted to see her. He went home and telephoned Wayne. Now for another test.
“Anything untoward happen at Leather and Hides last night?”
“Nelson patrolled with the new guard last night, but they didn’t see or hear anything suspicious. He thinks the culprit is trying to lull us into complacency. How’d it go in New York?”
He hadn’t realized that he was holding his breath. “Clean as fresh snow, but it was a good idea to check the place out, and I intend to do it more often. I’ll be in touch.”
* * *
Melissa stared at the molding in her ceiling, while the dial tone menaced her ear. She had good reason to meet with Adam, she told herself, since she’d placed Lester in Adam’s office, and the man might be the cause of his problems. The telephone operator’s tinny voice got her attention, and she hung up. But she dallied beside the pantry door with her hand resting on the cradled wall phone. What was the use of lying to herself? She wanted to be with him. She hadn’t seen Adam for a week, not since she’d gone to the football game with him and Wayne. And their tepid parting had frustrated her and thrust her into a whirlpool of confusion, leaving her more than ever at sea about their relationship. The fault had been hers. She couldn’t overcome the deepening conflict between her feelings for Adam and loyalty to her family. And her inner struggle had intensified, she realized, because she’d become more sympathetic to her father since learning why he was so irrational about the Hayeses and Roundtrees.
* * *
They didn’t know how to greet each other, so they stared in silence. Finally she smiled and his arms opened to her. But Adam held her to his side, unwilling to risk the escalation of desire. She leaned away and looked up at him, but he let her see a bland expression and joked, “You know the old adage, ‘an ounce of prevention...’ and so forth. We’re supposed to be going to dinner, and I’m hungry, but if you want to hang around here, my two appetites are equally demanding right now.” Desire pooled in his loins at the double meaning implied in her lusty laugh, and he set her away from him.
“I’ll get my coat. Have a seat.” He didn’t move.
“You do that, Melissa.” He watched the devil-may-care way she walked, turned his back, and tried to think about the problems at Leather and Hides, but those thoughts didn’t lessen the heat in him. She returned quickly, too quickly. One look at her—scented as she was with a subtle but extravagant perfume and bundled up past the neck, waiflike to thwart the cold—and he struggled against man’s most primitive impulse. I’m in danger here, he admitted to himself and sought to introduce some levity into the situation.
“I can hardly see you in all that stuff you’ve got on.” His gaze stroked her face; not pretty but strangely beautiful.
Melissa’s shoulders hunched in anticipation of the outside temperature. “I don’t like to be cold.”
“No reason why you should be. I’ll keep you warm.”
“Said the spider to the fly,” she shot back, gazing up at him as though to confirm his meaning. He watched her teasing look dissolve into awareness and knew that he hadn’t reduced the tension, but worsened it.
“Let’s go while we can still walk.”
“Where are we going?” He helped her into the passenger’s seat, awed as she struggled to sit down with what could pass for decorum.
“Wherever you like.”
He gazed down at her. “If you’re so afraid of getting cold, why are you wearing your skirt a yard above your knee? And it’s so tight, you could hardly sit down. Didn’t you ever hear of comfort?” Her glare might have been meant to shame him, but he held his course.
“You’ve practically hidden your neck and face, and they’re least likely to feel the cold, but your lower precious parts are left to freeze.” He tapped his forehead with a long index finger. “Universities ought to give courses in deciphering the female enigma, and the male students should be forced to take them.”