Deceptive Love (12 page)

Keri began to get the first intimations of just how ungracious a loser Elise was when she and Mrs. Covey overheard one of Elise's friends regaling a group of typists waiting for the elevators with Elise's accusation, suitably embellished, that Keri had her sights set on being something more than a secretary to Dain Randolph, and that something wasn't a wife. Dain's wife, when he acquired one, would of course come from that exalted strata of Society to which the Randolph name gave entree. Keri, however, would be satisfied to aim for a slightly lower and less permanent position, if, it was spitefully added, she hadn't attained it already!

Mrs. Covey gasped in outrage and the sound brought the group's attention to the newly arrived pair. Keri was almost rigid with blazing wrath, but she clove easily through the appalled group to confront the petrified sight, but her voice, when it came, was almost caressingly soft.

"Have you ever been sued for slander, Miss Thurston? I can guarantee that it is an experience that you not only wouldn't enjoy but couldn't afford. I don't hold my reputation lightly and neither does my father, General Dalton, nor my godfather, Ambassador Lawson. You might pass the word to your friends that should I hear further filth of this sort, you'll be given a chance to repeat it and substantiate it from the witness stand in a courtroom, with Barnabas Tolson asking you the pertinent questions. He's known me and my family all my life, and he thinks highly of my reputation too."

The elevator arrived at the psychological moment and 
Keri and Mrs. Covey stepped into it, to ride up in solitary splendor since not one of the stunned women in the group was capable of moving a muscle. Keri was drawing deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself before she went into the office and figuratively and perhaps literally tore Elise Barth into tiny little particles.

"Do you really know Barnabas Tolson?" Mrs. Covey questioned in awe. He was one of the foremost criminal lawyers in the nation, and his cross-examinations were deadly.

"He was my father's roommate at West Point," Keri answered absently, still intent on calming herself back into coherence. "He's godfather to my oldest brother, and my dad's godfather to his daughter."

The elevator traveled upward in silence after that revelation. When it reached their floor, Keri strode out of the elevator as soon as the doors had slid back the mere width of her body. Mrs. Covey wasn't as quick off the mark, but she reached Elise's office scant seconds after Keri did. Mrs. Covey couldn't see Keri's face, but she could see Elise's and she watched the color drain from the seated woman's complexion.

"Would you like to step into my office, Elise, or shall we have it out right here?" Keri's voice still carried those caressing overtones it had held when she had peeled the skin off Miss Thurston ten floors below. Elise's mouth opened and closed soundlessly and she gasped for breath through a constricted throat.

Keri walked over to the inner door, leading to their shared office, and said gently to Mrs. Covey, "Would you take over for Elise for a few minutes? She and I have some unfinished business to discuss."

Mrs. Covey moved obediently toward Elise's desk as the other woman rose jerkily to her feet and walked into the inner office with the precision of an automaton. Keri waited until Elise had passed through and then followed her, shutting the door softly behind them both.

Keri turned away from the closed door and regarded Elise as she stood defiantly by Mrs. Covey's desk. She let the silence stretch ominously until Elise had swallowed heavily twice and shifted her feet restlessly. Then Keri spoke.

"You are a very stupid woman, Elise. You've put yourself into an untenable position. You're out on a limb and I'm just about to saw it off behind you. I had and have no designs on Dain Randolph, but whether I have or not is no concern of yours. I was prepared to put up with petty spite from you as long as you kept it confined to the office, but I am not prepared to put up with slander, in or out of the office. I've already served notice to your friend, Miss Thurston, that if you and she and any other of your pals continue to perpetrate that tissue of scurrilous innuendo you dreamed up, I'll strip you naked financially and emotionally with a suit for slander that will leave you without a shred of reputation yourself. You won't even be able to get a job as a waitress in a Skid Row bar, much less as an executive secretary." She watched the emotions flit restlessly across the pale woman's face before continuing in that same gentle tone. "Don't make the mistake of thinking I'm bluffing. Barnabas Tolson doesn't bluff and he's my brother's godfather and a lifelong friend of my family."

Keri watched the woman facing her sway slightly, but Keri's green eyes remained merciless. "Don't faint yet, Elise," she advised in a controlled voice. "There's still more to come. Your poison has had time to spread already, thanks to those of your friends who wouldn't have gotten the word from Miss Thurston yet, so you'll have to go to work to repair the damage you've caused. You'd better contact every one of them and convince them to spread further word that it was spite, not fact, that formed the basis of your previous fabrication, and that you deeply regret the whole incident."

Elise moved protestingly, but Keri wasn't finished with her, and that steady, contemptuous green gaze held her impaled. "You'd better pray also that Mr. Randolph doesn't get wind of this little episode. I don't think he'd take too kindly to your efforts to blacken the reputation of a woman you think he's interested in."

Elise's face went even whiter, a feat Keri had thought impossible. This aspect of the situation had clearly never occurred to Elise and contemplation of it scared her as much as the threat of Barnabas Tolson. Keri was satisfied. Elise might be stupid in some ways, but she had a healthy sense of survival. There would be no further trouble from her.

Keri moved away from the door and opened it invitingly. Elise still hadn't said a word, but she obediently walked toward the outer office, only too glad to get away from that emerald-eyed witch. Prim Miss Dalton had concealed the fighting abilities of a Tasmanian devil and Elise was bleeding from a thousand invisible wounds. She walked into her office and sank into the chair which Mrs. Covey had vacated when the door opened. She buried her face in shaking hands and contemplated the wreck of her future.

Keri had crossed to her own desk and her legs were as trembly as Elise's. Reaction was setting in and she felt sick to her stomach. Anger had carried her through the dreadful scenes, but now the adrenaline flow was ebbing and a churning nausea rose, bile-bitter in her throat. Malice, active malicious spite, is never pleasant, and when turned against oneself it sickens and wounds. She wished she could go home and take a long hot cleansing shower. She felt befouled, both by Elise's slime and the steps she had had to take to counteract its effect.

Mrs. Covey came softly into the silent room and looked compassionately at the pale girl who sat slumped on the edge of her desk, hands gripping and clenching around the edge in an involuntary spasm of disgust. She shut the door, separating the former combatants, and walked over to lay a comforting hand on Keri's shoulder.

Keri lifted a woeful face to the kindly one above her. "I feel sick, Mrs. Covey. I did what I had to, but I still feel sick. I've never had anyone hate me before, hate me so much that they wanted to hurt me." Keri shivered slightly.

"I think you need a cup of hot coffee," was Mrs. Covey's practical offer of sympathy. There was no blinking at the fact that Elise Barth was a spiteful, unpleasant bitch and nothing Mrs. Covey could say now would lessen the impact of the past harrowing minutes. She could only offer support and loyalty to the one who deserved it. She bustled out to the canteen and returned quickly with the steaming brew, well laced with sugar and cream. She noticed that Elise was still slumped over her desk, but there was no way she was going to offer coffee to that one!

Keri cradled the mug's warmth between her hands and sipped the heartening drink gratefully. "Thanks, Mrs. Covey. Thank you very much." There was more than gratitude for the coffee in those soft words. Keri was resilient and she was recovering swiftly. It would take more than the Elise Earths of the world to send Ken to her knees.

Fortunately Keri's color was nearly back to normal when the closed door suddenly swung inward. Dain stood in the door, looking bewildered and a little helpless, much as many males are when confronted with an emotional woman.

"Er . . . ah . . . Miss Barth . . . That is, there seems to be something wrong with Miss Barth. I came into the office and she was . . . well, she looked ill, bent over her desk, but when I asked her what was wrong, she burst into tears and ran out of the office. Could one of you go after her and find out what's wrong?"

Keri and Mrs. Covey exchanged speaking looks. Mrs. Covey said, "Of course, Mr. Randolph, I'll go see what's wrong. Perhaps Miss Barth is ill. I understand that there's a twenty-four-hour flu going around."

"Oh, really?" Dain was basically uninterested in the state of Miss Barth's health except as it affected the smooth running of his office. "Well, if she's sick, send her home," he ordered a trifle impatiently. "Keri, I'll need you to take dictation." He turned and left abruptly, expecting Keri to follow immediately in his wake.

"Keri?" Mrs. Covey said softly. "The light dawns
..."
and she left the room in search of Elise, who by now was crying from chagrin and reaction in the women's rest room. Keri ground her teeth, gathered up her pad and pencils, and stormed out of the room in her turn.

By the time Mrs. Covey had dispatched a blotchy Miss Barth to the privacy and solace of her home, Keri had recorded four urgent letters at high speed and was typing them at Miss Barth's desk. She ripped them one by one from the typewriter, addressed the envelopes, and took them back in to Dain for signature. He slashed a black scrawl across them and gathered up several files.

"Make sure those make the afternoon mail pickup. I'll be in conference with Simonds, Barkley, and Sturdevant. Don't disturb me unless the building collapses around your ears."

"Yes, Mr. Randolph," she acquiesced colorlessly, but her eyes spat icy green sparks. "I'll see that you're not disturbed, Mr. Randolph."

"I'll deal with you when I have more time, Keri," he promised dangerously, "but for now, here's^ something on account." Before she could evade him, he grasped her chin and lowered his mouth to hers.

Her mouth opened to object and he took full advantage of her instinctive gasp of outrage. His mouth closed over hers and ruthlessly plundered every sweet corner. The stroke of his tongue against hers was like no sensation she had ever experienced before. Their mouths became a fiery seal, welding them together for a timeless instant, lasting as long as infinity and as short as the beat of a heart. When Dain lifted his mouth from hers, Keri wasn't sure she'd ever be able to draw in breath again without recalling the taste of his lips.

He laid his free hand against the side of her neck and said softly, "If I had more
time...and
left her standing there bemused, in the middle of his office, the carefully typed envelopes and letters in a scattered drift around her feet.

Finally she knelt carefully and gathered up her work. With trembling hands she laid them on his desk, and by concentrating solely on the task at hand, managed to fold the originals, stuff them into the proper envelopes, and reorder the file copies. The peppermint flavor of the first envelope she licked clings to her suddenly dry tongue and she had to force moisture into her mouth to complete her task of sealing the envelopes and affixing the international airmail stamps. The Wright Brothers wore smug masculine smirks that she had never noticed before. She pounded them flat with a clenched fist, flattening the Kitty Hawk as well, for good measure. If she saw Dain Randolph's handsome, masculine face beneath her softly thumping fist, could she be blamed?

She went back out to Elise's desk, called down to the mail room for a pickup, and then looked in to see if Mrs. Covey was back from ministering to Elise. She found that good lady placidly continuing their work of the morning, entirely unperturbed by the day's tumultuous events.

"How . . . where is Elise?" Keri questioned hesitantly.

"She was sniveling in the rest room," Mrs. Covey replied succinctly. "By the way, call me Bridget, Keri, since we seem to be approaching a first-name basis in the office." She smiled cheerfully at a flushing Keri.

"Oh, Bridget," Keri said helplessly. "Don't you start on me too. Where is Elise now?"

"If she has any sense she'll be at home by now, but she may be perched on a bar stool somewhere for all I know. I put a cold, wet washcloth across her face to shut her up and then told her that Mr. Randolph thought perhaps she had the flu and felt she should go home and nurse it. If she's smart her flu will stretch out for a few days. I also," Bridget continued darkly, "reminded her not to forget those phone calls to her friends."

"You listened," Keri said faintly.

"The intercom was open between the rooms," Bridget admitted with airy unconcern. "You don't mess around, girl. You won't have any more trouble with Elise and she'll make those phone calls. She was a bully and you handled her just right. I listened because I thought you might need help, but I should have known better after I watched you take on the Thurston cat. That group of spiteful gossips will think three and four times before they start out to shred someone's reputation again. You didn't know it, but they've cheerfully wrecked several girls' reputations before this, so don't regret a single word of what you said. More power to your army I says."

Keri threw up her hands in surrender. "I give up, Bridget. I'm a public hero and I'll wear my laurels proudly."

"Heroine, my dear, heroine. Mr. Randolph expects precision from his highly paid executive secretaries."

"Mr. Randolph expects a hell of a lot from his secretaries," Keri muttered to herself, her face darkening. Bridget wisely didn't ask for a repeat of Keri's sotto voce comments.

"Are you manning, if you'll pardon the expression, Elise's desk, Keri? If so, I think someone just came in."

"I suppose so," Keri threw back over her shoulder as she went into the outer office to find the mail boy patiently waiting. His eyes widened appreciatively as Keri walked toward him, but he was wise enough to say nothing. Keri handed him the four envelopes with an admonition to be sure that they went out in the afternoon mail. He left, casting a surreptitious glance over his shoulder. He could now report with authority that Miss Dalton was a real smasher! If he were only ten years older and several thousand dollars richer ...

The rest of the afternoon passed. That was all that could be said about it. Keri handled Miss Earth's regular duties and worked on her own as the opportunity arose. Bridget brought Keri another cup of coffee at mid-afternoon since