Ulterior Motives (15 page)

“I owe him a favor.”

“It must have been a very great favor,” Shelley prompted.

“It was.” That’s what Ross had said. Shelley didn’t want to give the subject up that easily, but Tim smiled and shook his head. “I promised I would never tell anyone what he did for me. I can only tell you that he’s the truest friend a man can have, and that I would have achieved none of my accomplishments if it weren’t for Ross and his generosity of spirit.”

Shelley stared at him. “That’s certainly a novel point of view,” she said at last.

“Ah, you’ve heard that he’s a cad, a bounder, a rogue.”

“Something like that,” Shelley admitted, amused at Tim’s lexicon.

“You will only hear this kind of castigation from those who do not know him well, or those who are envious of him—for he is a man who appears to have everything.”

“And doesn’t he?” she asked curiously.

“But surely you should know, as the woman he is doing this for,” said Tim in surprise.

“I... don’t know him well, Tim, and frankly I’m convinced he has an ulterior motive for helping me like this.”

Tim smiled. “He said you would say that.”

“What else did he say?” she pounced.

“Nothing.”

Shelley frowned.

“But surely a perceptive woman like you has seen the man of great needs and great gifts that lives beneath Ross’ exterior.”

“Well, I... uh...” Shelley stumbled over her words for a few moments before deciding to give it up. She shrugged eloquently.

“Then you have barely scratched the surface, Michelle Baird. Which is a shame, because surely you deserve more. And so does he.”

Intrigued, and rather eager to get some concrete information instead of cryptic comments, Shelley asked, “Have you eaten yet, Tim? The least I can do is take you to lunch.”

“I am meeting Ross shortly. He said to be sure to ask you to join us for lunch.” Tim smiled. “He said you would refuse.”

Shelley nearly said yes. She wanted to know what Ross was like with an old friend. She wondered whether he would openly exhibit the qualities that Tim so clearly admired in him. But common sense prevailed. Particularly now that Ross was trying to buy her away from Babel, she couldn’t afford to be seen lunching with him again. So she declined Tim’s invitation with regret.

As Shelley bade Tim goodbye and showed him out the front door, both Francesca and Wayne stared with open curiosity.

“How did you find him so fast?” Wayne asked.

“Tanner,” Shelley said shortly.

“Ross Tanner?” Wayne asked with astonishment.

“Yes.”

“That was a very beautiful man,” Francesca said, referring to Tim.

“Yes,” Shelley agreed.

“There have been some very remarkable men coming here lately,” Francesca said with satisfaction.

“Yeah,” said Wayne unenthusiastically. “Oh, for the good old days when women used to come here.”

Shelley smiled and returned to her office. Wayne followed hot on her heels, with Francesca right behind him.

Wayne wanted to know why Ross had done them such a favor. He examined all the possibilities. Was this a ploy to get Shelley interested in working for him? Was he trying to get them to lower their guard for some nefarious purpose? Was Tim indeed a competent interpreter of Pashto?

“Stay tuned for the answer to these and other questions,” Shelley murmured, “same bat-time, same bat-channel.”

“You’re not contributing,” Wayne complained.

“Maybe he just cares about Shelley,” Francesca said.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Wayne snapped.

“I beg your pardon,” said Shelley indignantly.

“He’s a
businessman,
Shelley. A shrewd, cunning, relentless, insidious—”

“The man’s a fiend!” cried Shelley.

Wayne looked at her in silence for a moment. “You think I’m overreacting, don’t you?”

“Who, you?” She sat down at her desk. “I think that instead of speculating wildly, you should ask him personally.”

“When do I ever see him?”

“This Thursday. He’s holding an open house at Elite. I say we go find out what he’s up to.”

Ten minutes later Wayne left her office, rubbing his hands together and planning how he would cleverly trick Ross into revealing all his secret plans and schemes. Shelley shook her head in amusement. Wayne hoped one day to run Babel’s central accounting office in New York. He still had some maturing to do before he got there, she reflected.

Thursday arrived in the midst of a busy week at Babel. Tim had successfully completed his job for Shelley and headed back to California. The interpreters’ coordinator in Washington thanked Shelley for her help in the affair. She also confided to Shelley that she was about to hand in her resignation and move to Vermont; her analyst said the stress of her job was bad for her. Shelley also met again with Keene International, who still vacillated about their choice of language center.

“It’s getting warmer. Don’t you think it’s getting warmer?” said Wayne as he and Shelley walked to Elite that Thursday afternoon.

“Yes,” she agreed. “Another week or two and I won’t need a jacket.”

Wayne opened the door to the Elite offices for her. She had to admire the new decor. The walls, floors, ceilings, and furniture were all done in complementing pastels, while several prints and vases stood out in bold, vivid color. It was simple, but the overall effect was one of elegance and affluence. Shelley sighed glumly. This would all look great in Babel’s lobby.

So would Ross, she realized with a sweet rush of sensation as her eyes met his. He returned his attention to the people he was talking to, but the mutual awareness which had plagued them since their first meeting was already flowing between them.

She tried to tell herself that she wasn’t disappointed that he hadn’t called her, hadn’t tried to see her, hadn’t tried to change her sensible decision to stay away from him. But she wasn’t much good at lying. Now that he was here, just a few steps away, her eyes feasted hungrily on the sight of him.

His black hair gleamed with healthy highlights, his tall, muscular body cut an impressive figure in his dark suit, his eyes sparkled with flirtatious amusement, and he exuded an aura of easy magnetism.

Wow,
she thought.

“Wow,” said Wayne. “Look how many people are here.”

There were indeed quite a lot of people. A significant number of them were Shelley’s clients or potential clients. Common sense started intruding again. It would be gauche and discourteous to do combat with Elite at their own party, but she needed to keep her clients from getting ensnared in Ross’ silken web. This called for subtlety. She was sorry she had brought Wayne along.

“Shelley, I’m so glad you could make it.” Ross came over and clasped her hand warmly in his. He was on his worst behavior today. His eyes danced with delight, and she could see mischief and mayhem in their depths.

“Just trying to be polite to the underdog,” she said sweetly. “You’re making such an admirable effort here after sliding downhill for so long.”

He grinned, enjoying her sally. “We appreciate your moral support,” he said gravely.

“Wow, is that real champagne?” Wayne asked, looking at the refreshment table.

“Is there any other kind?” Ross asked.

“Imported,” Shelley murmured, eyeing the bottle being opened. The cork flew out with a discreet pop. “You must have quite a budget.”

“I do. And, of course, I can arrange for the new director to have access to a healthy entertainment budget,” Ross added meaningfully.

“Who’s the new director?” Wayne asked.

Ross eyed Shelley with merciless delight. “I was frankly hoping—”

“Since Chuck has only just resigned, I’m sure it will take time for you to consider the prospects. Perhaps a transfer in from another Elite school?” Shelley gave him what she hoped was a look of bland curiosity.

“I have the perfect prospect in mind. You know that,” he reminded her with insufferable innocence.

Shelley did her best to look blank. She had decided that her life would be less complicated if no one knew about Ross’ offer. She could have killed him for bringing it up again, especially here and now. “Are you pleased with the turnout today?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Yes. It’s too bad you didn’t come earlier. We had quite a crowd.”

“More than this?” Wayne asked.

“Lots more,” Ross assured him, and named visitors from a dozen big companies, some of whom currently did business with Babel. “We’re closing the doors soon,” he added, looking at his watch.

“We meant to come earlier, but it was just such a busy day,” said Shelley.

“Being so understaffed can’t make your job any easier,” Ross said persistently.

“We can handle—” She stopped abruptly and looked across the crowded room, recognizing a familiar voice. Several teachers from her school, including Ute, the German teacher, were laughing and chatting with some Elite teachers. It was bad enough that her clients were here, but so was her staff! And Ross had a reputation for hiring away good staff from his competition.

“Will you excuse me, please?” Shelley said stiffly and walked away.

Ross kept his eyes on Shelley as she made her way toward the teachers from her school. He had wondered how quickly she would notice them in the crowded lobby. Faster than most people would, he had guessed, and he was right.

Shelley’s accountant, Wayne, the rather likeable epitome of a callow youth, distracted him briefly. Ross listened politely to the blond man, hiding his amusement. With what Wayne no doubt believed was skillful subtlety and preternatural cunning, he started pumping Ross about his immediate plans for Elite.

Ross deftly avoided a number of the questions and responded to the rest with blatantly false information. He was good at verbal sparring—it was one of his best skills—so he was still able to devote most of his concentration to Shelley.

He was disproportionately pleased she had come and hoped she had missed seeing him as much as he had missed her. He wondered whether she was glad he had stayed away from her lately. He hadn’t done it to be noble or to honor her wishes, and he was pretty sure she knew that. He doubted that she knew, however, that he’d stayed away because she’d spooked him.

“Are you considering any new teaching methods?” Wayne asked.

“Hmm, yes,” Ross said absently. “The latest thing out of Paris is language instruction through hypnosis.”

Wayne’s eyes bulged.

Ross remembered those sweet moments with Shelley, hot kisses stolen in the shadows of a busy street—something he hadn’t done since he was a kid. What had she done to him? Suddenly there was a new depth between them, one he wasn’t used to. She had opened herself to him and was demanding the same of him. In the middle of what should have been a casual embrace in broad daylight, she had really unnerved him.

She was so warm and giving. She didn’t even know better than to give it all to a man like him. What exactly was she seeking in him? What if she didn’t find it? He’d known from the first that she was different, that he couldn’t keep her at arms’ length if he wanted her, that there would be nothing casual about their relationship or easy about their parting.

He genuinely liked every woman he’d ever been involved with. But he was realizing that a woman like Shelley would require more than a little liking. What if he couldn’t give more than that? What if he let her down? What if he hurt her?

“Language training with hypnosis must be very expensive,” Wayne ventured.

“Oh, once we cover the cost of the psychic it’s not too bad. All the equipment is being donated by a research institute.”

Come on, Tanner, who are you kidding?
he thought with self-disgust. What he was really afraid of was that
she
would hurt
him.
What if he let her get close and she didn’t like what she saw? He’d always been in control of every relationship, and he knew instinctively that Shelley would make him toss control out the window in favor of honesty. What if he tried his best to give and take in an honest relationship, and she was disappointed in him? He winced inwardly at the thought. What if she was disillusioned with the man beneath the guise? What if she wound up despising him?