The Ties That Bind (16 page)

Shannon frowned, realizing he was holding the contract the San Francisco buyer had left. "I was just about to sign it yesterday when you arrived."

"I went over it this morning while you were in the shower."

"Garth, I never asked you to vet that contract. You had no business examining it. Here, let me have it."

"Going to sign it as it stands?" he asked.

Suspicious of the neutral tone of his voice, Shannon jerked the contract from his hand. "I don't see any reason why I shouldn't."

"How about the fact that by signing it you'll be agreeing to give that boutique exclusive rights to sell not only your totes but anything else you design for the next six months? They're guaranteeing themselves first right of refusal on all your designs."

"What?" Startled, Shannon scanned the fine print. "I never agreed to anything like that."

"Take a look at clause six."

She read it hurriedly, trying to sort through the jumble of legalese. "Oh, my God," she muttered in disgust. "I read it in a hurry yesterday. I didn't realize... I never intended to give the boutique exclusive rights to my products. It's a mistake. I'll have to cross out that clause before I can sign this thing."

"You do that." Garth got up to help himself to more coffee. He stood at the stove, watching Shannon glare at the papers in her hands.

"I don't understand," Shannon tossed the contract back onto the table. "That buyer never said anything about exclusivity."

"Never trust someone who's trying to shove a contract down your throat," Garth advised easily.

"I suppose this is all second nature to you. You're so damn accustomed to people trying to outmaneuver you or cheat you or steal from you." Shannon stalked to the window and stood with her hands on her hips, staring out to sea.

"The buyer wasn't trying to cheat you. She was simply trying to ensure she got the best possible deal for herself."

"Well, she can forget the whole thing. I'm not going to sign that contract, after all."

Garth shook his head. "There's no need to get self-righteous about the situation. Just cross out that clause, sign it and send it back. If she wants those totes, she'll sign it, too, and you'll have a deal. Other than that single clause, it looks like a good contract."

"It's the idea of the thing!"

"It's business."

She spun around. "Honestly, Garth, you're so damn cynical."

He smiled. "Maybe that's why I need you."

She faltered, unsure of how to respond. "I suppose I should thank you for catching that clause."

He moved close and kissed her forehead. "No thanks are necessary. All part of the service."

"The weekend service?" she shot back and immediately wished she'd resisted the retort.

"Are you going to be this prickly every weekend?"

Flushing, Shannon turned back to the window. "I don't know. Maybe. Will you lose interest if I am?"

"What do you think?" he asked gently.

"I don't know what to think."

"Well, you'll have plenty of time to consider the matter before I get back on Friday." He didn't sound concerned.

Shannon heard him move behind her, and then out of the corner of her eye she saw him put the copy of his precious bid proposal down on the table beside the buyer's contract. "What are you doing with that?"

"I'm leaving it with you."

Her eyes widened. "With me? You're leaving that copy of the proposal here? But, Garth, why?"

"Maybe because I'm trying to find some way of showing you that I trust you. Nor do I think you're stupid, even if you are a little naive. There's a big difference between stupid and naive, Shannon."

"Oh, Garth." Worriedly Shannon glanced at the contract and back at his calm face. "I don't think you should leave that here," she stated carefully.

"Why not?"

She waved a hand, trying to find the right words. "Because it scares me, if you want to know the truth. I don't ever want to see that proposal again. Every time I look at it I think about you finding it in my tote bag Sunday morning."

He caught her waving hand, holding it gently captive. "That's not what I want you to think when you look at it, Shannon. I want you to see it lying here in front of you for the next few days and think about the fact that I trust you with it. I can't undo the things I've said about your getting used by someone in my world, but I can at least prove I trust you. It's a start, honey. A foundation for us."

She went still, seeing the intensity in his gaze. "You don't trust very easily, do you, Garth?"

"No. But I'm willing to show I trust you."

Shannon gave a soft exclamation and went into his arms. "I'll take care of the proposal, Garth."

"I know you will." He stroked her back, his face in her hair. "By next Monday this whole mess will be finished. The sealed bids will have been turned over to
Carstairs
and then all we do is wait for the decision. Monday is the deadline." He paused, his hand still moving warmly on her spine. "I'll be back Friday evening."

Shannon forced a smile and looked up into his face. "I'll be here."

"I know. Honey, we've gotten off to a rocky start, but everything's going to work out. I know it will." He kissed her, his desire a volatile force held firmly in check by his self-control. Then he lifted his head. "I've got to get going."

"Yes." She didn't want him to leave. There were too many uncertainties left between them, too many things left unsaid. But Shannon also knew nothing was likely to get cleared up if he stayed. She walked him to the door and stood on the step as he slid into the Porsche and turned the key. Garth lifted his hand once in farewell and then he was gone.

Slowly Shannon went back into the cottage. She stood looking down at the bid proposal for several long moments, trying to comprehend exactly why Garth had left it. She certainly didn't want it in her house. It brought back too many miserable memories.

But Garth was trying to show her that he trusted her. Coming from him, it was a major step. It was more than just a simple, symbolic gesture. The proposal was important to him and it was clear someone had attempted to hand it over to a rival. Shannon, by virtue of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, could easily have been cast in the role of thief. Realistically speaking, Garth had had every right to be furious with her that morning he'd discovered it in her tote. Furthermore, Shannon admitted with a small groan, he'd had every right to assume she was guilty.

Apparently he was willing to prove he didn't think her guilty. She should value the gesture he was making, Shannon told herself. It was a major concession from a man who didn't completely trust anyone.

Shannon picked up the document and glanced around the kitchen. The copy of the proposal made her nervous. If she'd had her way, Garth would have taken it with him. She certainly didn't want it in her house. Restlessly she strolled from room to room, wondering where to store it.

In the end, she dropped the document into a silk-screened box used for storing her personal papers. The box was tacked to the inside of the closet door in her studio. When she shut the door, the box and the proposal were out of sight and out of mind. On Friday when Garth arrived she would hand the document back to him and tell him that, although she appreciated the gesture, she really didn't want to be responsible for the proposal any longer.

Taking a firm grip on herself, Shannon went back to work. Assuming the San Francisco buyer would accept the slightly revised contract. Shannon had a lot of work ahead of her. She put on her smock, attached the stencil design to the silk screen and inked the screen. Then she put the first square of canvas underneath the frame and picked up the squeegee. Fifteen minutes into the task, Shannon's mind finally began to clear. She concentrated on her work and refused to let herself think of the coming weekend.

The phone rang in the living room about one o'clock that afternoon. It was Annie O'Connor.

"I was just calling to see if you wanted to go to Verna's yuppie
vegie
play this evening. I know you didn't get the chance last weekend because you went to San Jose. Surely you're not going to pass up her masterpiece. Verna would be crushed."

Shannon laughed. "I wouldn't want to be responsible for injuring Verna's artistic ego. Are you and Dan both going?"

"Are you kidding? Every time I mention going to one of Verna's plays, Dan laughs his head off."

"I have to admit Garth wasn't too impressed with her version of The Taming of the Shrew. Verna is clearly ahead of her time, or at least ahead of most men. Okay, what time shall I pick you up?"

"Hmm. How about seven-thirty? That will give us time to park and find a good seat."

"See you then." Shannon hung up the phone thinking that it would be good to get out of the house that evening. She didn't want to sit by the phone and find herself waiting for Garth to call. Furthermore, if he did call, it might be good for Garth to find her out.

She was going to have to set the tone of this affair, Shannon told herself as she headed back to the studio. If she didn't, Garth would control it completely. If he had his way, he would tie her up in a nice neat package labeled Wife, and keep her firmly tucked away in a safe place where she couldn't get into any trouble. Then, on the weekends, he would take her out and play with her as if she were a toy.

Shannon frowned to herself. No, it wasn't fair to say he treated her as if she were a toy. You didn't go out of your way to prove to toys that you trusted them. Garth really was trying, she decided. But he had a long way to go. They were in the same situation they had been in before last weekend's fiasco. She was involved in a weekend affair with a man who still didn't want her sharing the major part of his life.

And knowing herself, Shannon thought grimly, she wouldn't take long to try once more to push her way into his other world. She would never be content to love a man who wouldn't share himself completely with her. It was just as it had been that first day on the beach. She was driven by a compulsion to know him and understand him. The present situation was only a temporary lull after a storm. Soon there would be another storm, and another after that. She would just keep pushing until Garth finally exploded and decided the relationship had no chance at all of working.

When that final day came. Shannon thought sadly, perhaps he would be grateful to her for not having taken him up on his proposal of marriage. At least he wouldn't be able to accuse her of having tricked him into a wedding on top of everything else.

VERNA MONTANA'S ALLEGORY of modern society as mirrored in a vegetable garden had a certain measure of originality going for it, but Annie and Shannon decided that, on the whole, it was just as well the men hadn't come with them to the play. The two women sat eating ice-cream sundaes at the parlor after the theatrical production had ended and tried to restrain their giggles.

"Dan would have had a fit. I'm sure he would have walked out during the first fifteen minutes. He has no patience with Verna's homemade plays. He thought The Taming of the Shrew was screwed up so badly he vowed he'd never sit through another production of hers," Annie confided.

"I have to admit Garth wasn't terribly impressed, either." Shannon concentrated on her ice cream, remembering how that evening had ended. "But on the whole I think Verna is better off sticking to the classics. She mangles them, but at least there's something to mangle. When she writes her own stuff, it's almost impossible to tell what's going on."

"Ah, well, who can define artistic vision?" Annie asked rhetorically. "Perhaps a hundred years from now her Yuppie
Vegies
will be considered a classic."

Shannon grinned. "I can just see some theatrical critic in the next century trying to analyze exactly what rutabagas had to do with twentieth-century culture.

Verna may be on the cutting edge of artistic creation, but as far as I'm concerned, she can have the frontier all to herself. I'll be happy just to make a living with my silk screen."

Annie dug into the third scoop of ice cream in her bowl. "Speaking of which, when do you want me to sew up another batch of totes?"

"I can bring them over tomorrow, if that's all right. I'm sending the buyer twenty next Wednesday."

"You've signed the contract?" Annie asked with interest.

"Umm. After having it pointed out to me that I had almost signed away most of my rights."

"Uh-oh. Garth found something wrong with the contract?"

Shannon groaned. "It was very embarrassing, Annie. The truth was, I was so upset thinking about this past weekend that when I sat down to read the contract yesterday, I just wasn't concentrating. So naturally Garth blithely glances through it this morning and catches good old clause number six. I know I should have been more grateful, but somehow it just seemed to emphasize all the problems between us. He's going to insist on casting himself in the role of my protector, never letting me make any major decisions or get involved in the seamy side of life. Every time I turn around he's found some new way to look after me. He thinks my car is unsafe, and he's even making arrangements for me to have new locks installed. I'm to be especially protected from his big, tough, macho world in Silicon Valley. I'm definitely in over my head there." She smiled grimly. "I'm an adult and I want to be treated like one, Annie. But it seems like every other day something happens to make me look like a silly, foolish little female. Honestly, the way things are going, Garth has every reason to wonder how I've survived this long on my own."

"It's nice to have a man want to protect you," Annie mused thoughtfully.

"True, but how would you feel if Dan tried to exclude you from well over half his life because he said he wanted to 'protect' you from it?"

Annie chuckled. "I'd probably begin to suspect he was linked to the Mafia or something."

"Sometimes I get the impression that life in Silicon Valley bears a few striking resemblances to life in the Mafia," Shannon grumbled.