Best Laid Plans (16 page)

Gloria snapped her finger.
"You're the fashion designer Lucas always talks about. Maybe we could have
a chat." Her dark head nodded toward her boss. "Lucas and Gary call
me the 'gray lady.'" Her fingers ran up and down the lapels on her jacket.
"But in my day this was the office uniform."

"And still very
attractive," Amanda complimented with a smile. "That suit emphasizes
your slender figure perfectly."

"Why. . .why, thank you."
The other woman's cheeks took on a petal pink glow. "You know, my
daughters are always teasing me to 'get with it.'" Gloria's expression
turned serious. "Do you think at fifty-six I'm too old to make a few
wardrobe changes?"

"Women don't get older, we get
better. And fifty six is the new forty six." Amanda favored her with an
outrageous wink. "I'll be glad to rough out a few fashion ideas to update
your gray flannel wardrobe if you'd like."

"I'd love it!" Gloria
cleared her throat and suddenly became all business. "Now then, Lucas,"
she opened a file folder and began to sift through various pink-slipped
messages, "I expected you to call in yesterday after court. Your whole day
has been restructured."

"Oh, no." He looked toward
Amanda, a frown etching his lips.

"Court has been changed to a
meeting in Judge Reinhardt's chambers at ten. You've got two afternoon
appointments: one at two and one at four." Gloria remarked.

"Don't worry about me,"
Amanda said, patting her taupe leather shoulder bag. "I'm headed for
Neiman's and then furniture hunting."

"You might want to explore these
furniture warehouses." Gloria jotted two notations on a slip of paper and
handed it to Amanda. "Both have excellent merchandise at discount
prices."

Lucas gathered up the morning mail.
"I guess you have enough shopping to keep you occupied, Mandy, but I
really wanted you to spend a day with me in court." His long legs quickly
covered the short distance to his office.

"We can plan it for another day,
Lucas." Her amiable tone strove to soothe his ruffled ego. "Now, this
. . . this is you," Amanda announced, surveying the stylish wood executive
office.

The atmosphere was relaxed but
impressive. Caramel walls and mahogany brown carpet were tranquil to the
senses. The large walnut desk was flanked by a rust upholstered executive chair
and two matching captain-style guest chairs. Bookcases formed a ninety-degree
angle filled with legal information. The opposite wall was balanced by a walnut
credenza over which framed university and law school degrees hung in imposing silence.

Placing his leather attaché case on
the desk, Lucas came to Amanda's side, hands moving along the slender length of
her arms. "Do you really like it?"

Her head tilted back, and the soft
copper curls caressed the shoulder of his navy blazer. "I love it. This
room reflects its owner. Confident, judicious, tough, secure." Her next
words were whispered impishly into his ear. "All you need is a bust of
Blackstone. Hmm . . . maybe I'll add that to my shopping list."

While Neiman-Marcus offered a chocolate
Monopoly set, they did not possess a sculpture of the famous English jurist,
Sir William Blackstone. That fact did not deter Amanda from inspecting every
inch of the seven floors and wishing the other two under construction were
finished. She purchased six complete towel ensembles, two in pale pastels, the
others in Lucas' requested macho spice.

Gloria's suggestion to scout
furniture warehouses proved lucrative to both Amanda and the bespectacled
salesman who dogged her every step. The store provided quality, variety and
quick availability.

A very attractive living-room suite
was displayed in the window. While the textured diamond design was cream in
color, the fabric was Scotchguarded and sturdy, the natural wood trim in
excellent agreement with the architectural beams in Lucas' living room. The
portly, attentive salesman eagerly wrote a purchase order for a sofa, love
seat, side chair and ottoman, matching recliner, three end tables and a coffee
table. Amanda was given an extra discount for cash, and delivery was promised
for the next day.

The second store was having a
bankruptcy sale. Among the odds and ends, Amanda bought three brass-based
lamps, a light oak wall unit and a dresser with a mirror that would be useful
in the guest bedroom. At the adjoining rug outlet, two matching oriental
look-alikes were added. The
Tree of Life
pattern was done in rust,
brown, beige and gray, coordinating perfectly with the furniture and the teak
flooring.

It was nearly five when Amanda
stumbled into the air-conditioned comfort of Lucas' law office. With a wan
smile at Gloria, Amanda sank into a chair, eased off her vanilla pumps and
flexed her cramped fingers.

"It looks like you had a
successful day." Gloria administered some thirst-quenching first aid in the
form of iced tea. "Lucas is on the phone long distance. His last
appointment just left."

Amanda savored the refreshing drink.
"Thank you." She lifted the glass in an appreciative gesture.
"By the way, I found some fashion magazines for the working woman that
might interest you." She hunted through numerous colored shopping bags,
not finding the right one until the last try. "Also, Neiman's has a
wardrobe counseling service. The lady to call is Helen Stevens. Here's her
card, and here are four tickets to a fashion show they're having next
month." Gloria was presented with an ever growing stack of information.
"I didn't know how many daughters you had. I hope those will be
enough."

"This is marvelous." The
secretary clutched the material against her chest. "I have two daughters
and a niece who are going to be thrilled. Amanda, this was so nice of you. How
did you manage? Tickets to a Neiman's fashion show are like gold!"

"I just happened to run into
their buyer, whom I had met in New York a couple of years ago. We had a
catch-up chat over lunch and ..." She sighed and leaned back in her chair.
"Listen, I can't thank you enough for the tip on the furniture stores.
Lucas' new living room will be arriving tomorrow."

"Does this mean my bank balance
is zero?" Lucas' deep voice intoned from the open doorway.

"Actually, I still have quite a
ways to go before it's depleted." Amanda's smile turned serious. "I
think you'll be pleased with everything, Lucas. The furniture is comfortable
and casual but has that -" she kissed her fingers, her eyes sassy,
"touch of class you requested."

Laughing, he moved to her side. His
strong hands administered a gentle massage to her tired shoulder muscles.
"You look like you could use a drink and a good dinner." Hazel eyes
radiated concern.

"Just as long as I don't have to
make either of the above." Her words were punctuated by a series of yawns.

The
Antare's
provided two
perfectly dry martinis with a twist and a gourmet dinner menu. The elegant,
slowly rotating restaurant sat atop the landmark fifty-story Reunion Tower,
glass windows giving patrons a breathtaking view of Dallas.

"I have some good news and some
bad news," Lucas informed Amanda after placing an order for two rare slabs
of prime Texas beef with all the trimmings. "I have to fly to El Paso on
business tomorrow, and it means I'll be gone overnight."

"Now, what's the bad news?"
She teased, reaching for the last stuffed mushroom.

Lucas confiscated her forked hors
d'oeuvre, savoring the buttery crab filling in his own mouth. "The good
news," he continued, ignoring her contrived pout, "is that Kitty
called and told me her party is set for Friday night."

"Sounds good." Amanda
removed her elbows from the table, allowing the waiter room to serve the salad.
"I've been feeling very guilty, Lucas. You've been home with me every
night. I don't want you to ignore Kitty."

He hesitated slightly, his fork
toying with a sliced cucumber. "Kitty has been tied up with a big
real-estate deal she's been putting together." Lucas chose his words carefully.
"Our relationship isn't one that demands daily contact."

"Intimate but informal,"
she suggested, selecting a warm muffin over the traditional dinner rolls.

"You could say that."
Adroitly, he changed the subject. "Why was it you insisted on carrying
this," the toe of his brown leather shoe tapped the neatly wrapped
package, "up here?"

"Hey, watch it." Amanda
carefully inspected the parcel that had been wedged underneath their table.
"This is a work of art."

"Show me."

The wrapping paper was removed to
display an un-framed canvas. An artist's creative touch with oil had reproduced
a French street scene - sidewalk cafe, flower cart and strolling tourists.

"I just couldn't resist
it." Amanda wrinkled her nose at Lucas. "Call me a
sentimentalist."

He appeared hurt. "You mean it's
not for me?"

"Lucas," she looked up in
surprise, "this wouldn't suit you at all. Maybe something in a
southwestern motif, or perhaps a three-dimensional fresco."

"But I like this painting."
He laid a possessive hand on the canvas.

"Now, wait just a minute."
Her fingers curved around the opposite corner. "Lucas, this is
silly."

"What's so silly?" His tone
was quite serious. "I happen to like...no...I love this painting. Look at
those colors: rich, vivid, refreshing. The brushstrokes are bold but
balanced." With his free hand, Lucas reached inside his jacket pocket,
searching for his checkbook. "I'll buy it from you."

Amanda took a deep breath. "It's
not for sale."

"How about half?" Lucas
knew he was babbling nonsense, but somehow the painting represented more than a
work of art. It was another bond. "I could write out a joint-custody plan.
We both could have visitation rights. Six months with you; six months with
me."

She looked startled, then laughed.
"Lucas, you are crazy!" Amanda rewrapped the painting and put it
safely between her legs. "If you're very nice to me," dark lashes
fluttered like black lace against her cheeks, "I might let you have it
during the holidays."

***

Buttercup and Maisy were to be fed
twice a day and brushed down at night. Amanda added a lunchtime treat of apples
and carrots to her stalwart companions' menu. The furniture arrived just as
promised, but not in the correct order - the rugs arrived last. The two
deliverymen were more than happy to move the heavy items to allow the laying of
the carpet; their kind efforts were rewarded with cold lemonade and home baked
brownies.

Amanda was enormously pleased with
her selections. The sofa and love seat formed a warm conversational group in
the main living area, the oak wall unit balanced the fireplace and stood
waiting to accommodate Lucas' stereo and TV, the double-door cabinet would
serve as a bar.

The chair, ottoman and matching
recliner were well proportioned for the alcove, with room still available for a
desk. Here was the perfect spot to sit and read in front of a blazing fire on a
stormy night.

Despite the fact it was another
cloudy day and rain swept night, Amanda pushed aside the thought of a cozy fire
and a good book and turned instead to her decorating. The kitchen and entry
foyer walls were sized for subsequent wallpapering, and Lucas' bedroom received
a primer coat in anticipation of the real thing, which was on the schedule for
the next day.

It was nearly midnight when the
telephone extended a cordial beep. "Hi, Mandy. How's everything
going?" Lucas' deep voice inquired.

"Just fine. The furniture
arrived. I can't wait for you to see it."

"I wish I were there. It's hot
and muggy here."

"It's like that where I
am." Amanda's throaty laughter drifted into the phone. "I'm glad you
have a cordless phone, Lucas. It makes taking a bath a pleasure. You don't have
to drip all over when someone calls."

"So you're enjoying my sunken
jetted tub, are you?"

"Very much." Her voice was
as sultry as the temperature in the room. "How did your meeting go?"

"Excellent. I have a new
client."

"Congratulations!" Her
voice reflected more than enthusiasm. "Lucas, I'm so proud of you. Your
business is growing every day."

"I like having you as my
cheerleader," came his teasing comment. "Listen, Mandy, I'm going to
have to stay for meetings tomorrow, so I won't be home until six."

"That's okay. I'm painting your
bedroom. I found a terrific shade called morning glory; it seems to change with
the light."

"You could take a day off,"
Lucas suggested, his tone gentle. "You're doing more work now than I ever
intended. This was supposed to be a vacation."

"I really am having fun. I'm
enjoying every minute of this." Amanda took a deep breath before asking
the one question that had been on her mind. "Lucas, if there's anything
you don't like . . . please tell me. This is your house."

"But it's taken you to turn it
into a home."

***