Turn Back the Dawn (7 page)

Kate hoped she was one of the auditioners. If she
wasn't, Kate was going to seriously consider suggesting
that she audition. There was something startling about the
young woman, and that was the very quality Kate felt was
most important in casting the ad. They didn't want faces
that were too beautiful, off-putting to all but the most
confident viewers. But they did want attractive. Special
people with flair. And this young woman—dressed all in
white, from her cowboy hat to her jeans to her boots—had
a definite flair. Her hair was auburn, her eyes dark blue,
and her skin was fair and smooth. And though her features were unusual—a full mouth, high cheekbones, high
forehead—she was arrestingly pretty. And then Kate
heard her give her name to the receptionist: Alexandra
Dayton.

A few moments later, when she sat down near Kate,
Kate introduced herself. They talked for a bit—about
Alexandra's search for an apartment, about the modeling
business and Alexandra's dread of the audition—and Kate
found her natural and charming. When other people finally began filing in—employees, actors and actresses for the

audition, messengers—Kate and Alexandra wound the conversation down. And then Ben strode in—his hair windblown, his cheeks red from the autumn chill. He lit up when he saw Kate. "Come on in to my office," he said, smiling. And she went with him down the long hall to his office.

It was the first time Kate had seen it, and she loved it immediately. It was very spare and businesslike, leaving the focus of the room to the magnificent view that swept down Madison Avenue. The furniture was all modern— deep, rich brown leather couches and chairs, sleek black desk and conference table. And there were more poster-size framed ads on the cream-colored walls.

When Ben closed the door softly behind him, Kate turned and looked at him, suddenly unaware of the surroundings, aware only that she was alone with him.

She laughed. "No, no. I was just—staring, maybe— because I liked what you were wearing. Not the usual succesful-man-working-on-Madison-Avenue outfit."

He smilled. "Good." He tilted his head and looked at her speculatively. "But you know me better than that." He smiled "I hope I'm more of a man going against the grain," he said, looking into her eyes. He came up close

to her then, and put his hands warmly and temptingly over her hips. "I'm so glad to see you, Kate," he said softly.

He leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. She pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around him and opening her lips to the delicious warmth of his tongue. What she loved most about kissing him was the way every moment was deep with need, the way he seemed to want her so very, very much. And he wanted to please her as well, kissing her deeply but gently, deepening the kiss only when she wanted more. With a moan that rose from deep inside she drew him in, tasting him with an ecstasy of pleasure, reveling in the heat that was enveloping them both.

Then slowly, gently, he drew back. "Kate," he whispered. And then he smiled broadly, hazel eyes shining with pleasure. "We do have to stop meeting like this, you know. Cliché or not."

She raised her chin and smiled. "What did you have in mind?"

"Oh, dinner. Dancing. Making love."

He brought his mouth down on hers then, in a long, deep kiss that spread pulsating heat through her body, weakening her limbs, firing her with a core of yearning that burned deep inside. He tasted wonderful, and she wanted more. She wanted to feel his warm skin against her own, to feel his slim hips against hers, to feel his long, muscular legs parting her own.

He drew back and his amber eyes searched hers. "When?" he asked.

She said nothing
—
she could say nothing, with her voice caught inside, under layers of desire.

"When?" he repeated, and she was suddenly aware of
the
hardness of his thighs, and a wild liquid warmth
plunged
through her body. ^Tonight?" he murmured.

She smiled dreamily and said, "Yes."

He reached up and stroked her cheek with the back of
his
warm hand, and she inhaled his scent, brushing her
lips
across his skin.

He smiled.

"What?" she asked quietly.

"I'm just thinking about how we're in here enjoying
ourselves
and we're keeping two dozen nervous young
kids
out there quaking." He brushed back a strand of her
hair.
"I don't know how I'm going to be able to concen
trate
with you at my side." He took a deep breath. "I guess
that's
what casting directors are for."

She
widened her eyes. "Getting derelict in your duties
already,
just because of a little personal influence?"

He
smiled. "Don't worry. When I first met you and said
that
your account would be important to me, Kate,
I
meant
it." He smiled into her eyes. "But if we're ever
going
to go out there, I think we should go now."

"Just one more kiss," she murmured, lips close to his.

He smiled, a look of pleasant surprise in his eyes. And
then
he tantalizingly brushed his lips across hers and
winked.
"They'll all be too old for the call by the time we
get
out there."

She
laughed. "Okay. But, oh, I have to tell you some
thing."
She explained Alexandra Dayton's presence, leav
ing
out her opinion about the young woman for the
moment.
She wanted to see what Ben and the casting
director
had to say about her first, and she also had some
serious
concerns about hiring her.

Kate and Ben went down to the casting room together, met with Andrew Coates, Blake-Canfield's casting director, for a few minutes, and waited while Coates went and
brought the auditioners in. Coates was a young, slightly
whiny man, good-looking until he began to speak. But'
Kate was impressed with the way he discussed the cam
-j
paign, and from the looks of the auditioners she had seen
out in the reception area, he had fairly good taste.

After Coates left, Kate looked around at the rows of
beautifully cushioned seats, the slightly raised area at the
far end of the room that apparently served as a stage, at
the bare walls and floors that wouldn't afford perhaps-
needed distractions to the anxious performers. There was
video equipment everywhere, with a glassed-in control
room at the back of the room and several cameras and
microphones on and near the stage. She and Ben sat in the
middle row of seats, and she imagined how threatening
they probably would look from onstage: the client and the
account executive, there to criticize, perhaps encourage in
minor ways, but probably not to hire.

A few minutes later the door opened, and a stream of
young men and women poured in, followed by Coates and
a young woman with a clipboard. As Kate settled back to
listen to Coates give his spiel, she was once again impressed. Ben had obviously conveyed the sense of the
campaign quite well; and many of the concepts in it wen-
less than obvious. Coates went on with some specific
points about the script, a few hints about relaxing, and
then called the first names.

Kate's stomach jumped as if the names were her own
And then, what seemed like only seconds later, Andrew
Coates was thanking the first two auditioners as they

stepped off the stage, and Kate realized she had missed their performance. And she wondered why she was so nervous. She was utterly distracted, completely in a daze. And then she remembered: just before the audition, she had agreed to see Ben tonight. In a dreamy, sensuous, lazy haze, she had said yes to more than just seeing him. She had said yes to much, much more.

As she felt Ben's presence next to her, knew every inch of him without even looking, a surge of pleasure erupted inside her, a thrill of anticipation that nearly made her tremble. And this, she realized, was what was sending bolts of fear through her. For her feelings for Ben were so strong—physically and emotionally—that she felt she had lost control.

She had thought of her answer as an act of strength, as an aspect of being a woman who could make choices and decisions and take actions others might consider premature or impetuous. She was her own woman, beholden to one, and she could do what she wanted. But underneath this confidence and self-determination, underneath the wonderful feeling she'd had when she had breathed yes against Ben's lips was the fear that she wasn't really in control, and now she was swept with doubt.

Kate tried to concentrate on the auditions. As they went on with faltering lines, misinterpreted inflections, halting movements, Kate's heart went out to the auditioners; but she was viewing it all dispassionately as well, interested more in the performances than in the actors' hopeful, tentative smiles and gentle looks of disappointment as they left the stage.

And she was amazed that her initial intuition about Alexandra Dayton had turned out to be correct: she was

a shining star among amateurs, someone who made her otherwise unremarkable partner shine as well. Within moments this rather dull young man had a sparkle in his eye and a verve in his voice that had been absent only seconds before. Alexandra Dayton was clearly one of those performers who could imbue her partner, if only temporarily, with the same magic she possessed herself. And Kate wanted her for the campaign. Yet she had questions and qualms. Alexandra Dayton was Dick Dayton's niece. What if there were problems, and they had to fire the young woman from the campaign? Kate had an instinct: right now, freedom in the campaign was of the utmost importance. Yet, as she looked at Alexandra, at the young woman's obvious beauty and presence, she wondered whether she wasn't in fact being too cautious; taking chances was what success in business was all about. She simply didn't know. . . .

After Alexandra and her partner had finished, Ben leaned over to Kate and whispered, "No question—she's the one."

"I have some questions," she said quietly. "We'll talk about it later."

Kate watched the rest of the auditions carefully, trying to keep an open mind about the rest of the performers. But it didn't take much eifort or discernment; there were two different leagues at work—amateur and professional— and Alexandra Dayton was the only member of the latter group. Which meant that Kate had to make a tough decision.

After all the auditioners had left, Ben and Kate moved to the front of the room and sat down with Coates and his assistant.

Ben lit his pipe, leaned back, and looked at Kate and Andrew. "No question in my mind. We have one call-back and one call-back only. Alexandra Dayton. The rest we can forget about for now."

Andrew Coates nodded. "Agreed by me. That girl was spectacular." The young woman at his side nodded. Ben looked at Kate. "Kate?"

She sighed. "I agree, except for the fact that she's Dick Dayton's niece. It makes me nervous."

"She was perfect, Kate," Ben said.

"I agree," she said. "There was no comparison—and I'm sure that would be true in future auditions. But I just have a feeling. An intuition."

Ben looked at her carefully. "Perhaps we'd better discuss this ourselves, Kate," he said coldly, "and let Andrew and Laura get back to their other work." He stood up. "Andrew, Laura, I'll talk to you before the day is out." And he motioned for Kate to come with him.

She said good-bye to Andrew and Laura and followed Ben out, furious that he had ended the meeting so abruptly, she was
furious at herself for not having said
anything.

They went into his office, now flooded with midmorning sun, and Ben closed the door.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, coming over to where she stood by the window. He smiled. "Did I detect waves of anger coming from you as we walked down the hall, or was that just my imagination?"

She smiled at the description, but grew serious again. "I am angry, Ben. Because of—because of our relationship, you seem to think that you can speak for me, make my decisions for me, cut me off.. .." Her voice trailed off. He
looked mystified, and she was suddenly unsure of her

words.

"Why?" he asked. "Because I give my opinion, and advise you as I'm supposed to? And because I save time by talking with you myself instead of having everyone in the agency in on it? Kate, I'm just doing my job." He reached out and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. "And I'm doing it as well as I possibly can—because of my feelings for you."

"But you don't even listen to what I'm saying. You were so sure back there in the casting room that Alexandra Dayton was perfect that we didn't even get a chance to discuss any of the others."

He drew his head back in surprise and took his hand away from her cheek. "The others? What others? Alexandra Dayton or not, they weren't right for call-backs—and you know that."

For a few moments there was silence. Kate looked out the window, Ben looked at Kate. When she turned and met his eyes, she was swept with confusion. He was so wonderful-looking, with his deep, dark-lashed eyes, the smile lines at the corners that made her want to smile herself, his easy masculinity. It was so easy to like him. But when he went against her, as now, it made her realize how little she knew him: his warmth and affection were not all that he was made up of. She was being swept along a river whose direction she didn't know.

She looked out the window again, as if the outer world would give her strength for what she had to say. "I don't think we should see each other tonight," she said quietly.

'Why not?"

She turned and faced him. "It's ... interfering already.

I'm sure you see that. And you yourself have said that this campaign is of critical importance because it's the first one I've been in charge of at I and S." She sighed. "Don't you see?"

"I see that you're not telling me something," he said quietly. "And that's certainly your prerogative. But I wish y ou would be honest, Kate. You know as well as I that my you—and being interested in you—hasn't interfered with anything one bit. So it must be something else." He looked into her eyes. "That first thing that comes to mind is that you're just not interested."

Her heart jumped; he had to know that wasn't true. 'That isn't it," she said. "Believe me."

"Is it that you want to be friends only?" he asked softly.

She caught his gaze in hers. "You know that's not true," she answered.

"Then tell me, Kate—I'm not a mind reader."

He stepped forward and put his hands at her waist.

"Don't," she said, but she felt herself say yes with her eyes in delicious and eager acquiescence. And moments later his lips were on hers, covering them with warmth, filling her with desire until she parted her lips and welcomed the sweetness of his tongue.

Oh, God, she thought. Save me from this desire, this need, this man. She melted under his touch, bringing her body up to his, wanting to feel the hardness of his frame. Her hands slid hungrily along his back, moving up to his hair and plundering it with heated pleasure. She wanted to explore every part of him, to possess him completely. For she could feel his desire was as strong as her own, that he shared her wonder over the swiftness and depth of their passion.

She tried to think of what she had meant to say, of what she had thought only moments before. But all she knew was that there was no fighting this utter melting in Ben's arms. This was something new, something she had never before experienced, even in her most intimate moments. From the deepest, most fiery core of her soul, she needed this man. And as his lips and tongue played with hers, as his expert hands roved along her hips and around her waist, she knew there was no resisting him.

When he lifted his mouth from hers, his eyes were dark with desire. "I can't force you to tell me what's wrong, Kate," he rasped. "I can ask, and hope that you'll tell me because you feel the way I do—that we could have something very, very special if you would let it happen. And I can't change, or help, or do anything any differently, unless you tell me. I'm following your eyes, and your smiles, and all the cues I can follow. And they all tell me that when I take you in my arms, you want that. If I'm wrong, you have to tell me so."

"Oh, you're not wrong," she said breathlessly, still warm and aching inside from his touch. "I wish that you were—but you're not."

"Then, what is it?"

"I don't know what to say except to tell you the truth. I'm uneasy; I don't like this feeling I have when we're together, when I'm in your arms. I feel as if I've lost

control."

A corner of his mouth lifted. "Don't you think I feel the same way?" he asked softly. "Why do you think I'm pursuing you like this? Don't you realize, Kate, you only feel this way when it's right—not when it's wrong?"

"I-I don't know " she murmured. She tried to think: