Double-Cross My Heart (20 page)

“Not recently,” her mother said.

“We’re playing hide and seek,” the younger girl said, turning to scoot noisily down the hall.

“They’re terrific kids,” Bryan said, looking back at Lauren.

“Thanks,” she said, falling silent, her self-possession seeming to have deserted her.

Bryan sat down on the arm of the couch where Alex was. “I was telling Alex the other day that he needs to let me help coach that basketball team. I played in high school, you know.”

“No, I didn’t know,” Lauren said.

“Oh, yes,” Bryan said with a laugh. “Basketball star of the St. Ignacio’s High School third-string team. Warmed a lot of benches in my time, but I love the game.”

His laughter ebbed into an awkward silence and Alex, watching the two of them, decided it was time he intervened.

“Bryan?”

Staring down at the floor near Lauren’s feet, his friend gave a start. “Yes?”

“You were looking for the Worthington contract?” Alex prompted.

“Yes.” Bryan glanced nervously at Lauren and back to Alex.

“It’s over on my desk.”

“Oh. Good.” Bryan got up and went to pick up the sheaf of papers. “Also, I looked over the Naylor proposal. It has some promising aspects, legally speaking. I think you might want to consider the company for your next acquisition once you’ve worked out the kinks with the Michele Cosmetics situation.”

“Good.” Alex nodded. “Are we going to get out of Worthington’s factory lease?”

“Yes,” Bryan said easily. “It has a few holes. No problem. I just got off the phone with their leasing realtor.”

“That’s terrific.” Watching his friend and his sister both try to look unaware of each other, Alex grinned.

“Well,” Bryan said heartily. “I’ll be in my office if you need me.”

“Okay,” Alex said, amused to see his sister’s gaze follow the other man from the room.

A moment’s silence descended after Bryan’s departure.

“So,” Alex said, “when are you going to let him ask you out?”

Her startled gaze flew to his face. “What? What do you mean?”

“Bryan’s got as big a thing for you as you have for him. If you’d let him, he’d ask you out in a second.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Lauren said, her face scornful and unconvincing. “I don’t have control over anyone asking me out? How exactly could I keep someone from asking me out?”

“By not looking at Bryan when you talk to him,” Alex told her. “Why don’t you put the two of you out of your misery and go out with the guy?”

His voice softening, Alex said, “You know, he’s nothing like Jim. You don’t have to worry that all men are assholes.”

“I know that,” she told him, a jumpy tone underlying her staid manner. “I’m not afraid of getting involved.”

“Yeah,” her brother said with affectionate disbelief, “and I’m a really good sleeper.”

***

Eden sighed as she drove across town a day later. She’d gone and done it. She’d slept with the enemy and had done so despite wondering how smart it was to make love with a man she was double-crossing. It was probably insane, but just thinking about her weekend with Alex left her smiling.

She’d gone crazy, she was sure, but she wouldn’t go back an erase those hours with him for anything. She’d felt cherished and sated and altogether joined in a communion of flesh and soul. Morning-afters could be awkward, but even that had felt right.

At least, until she’d left him.

Alone in her own bed last night, she hadn’t regretted being with him. But she’d found herself remembering some of their conversation and feeling disturbed. Troubled, really.

As much as she wanted to revel in the closeness, the sense of intimacy, she was troubled by who he was. Alex spent his life taking apart what other people built. That fact would have bothered her even if he hadn’t been after her company. He was actively working to get hold of Michele Cosmetics so he could tear it into pieces and make a bundle. While that fact enraged her, Eden hated that he couldn’t build something for himself.

The fact that he profited largely from his endeavors didn’t make it seem any less amoral.

How could she feel so drawn to the man?

Pulling to the curb in front of an exclusive-looking portico, Eden threw off her depressing reverie. There was work to be done.

Getting out of the Z4, she put her briefcase behind the passenger seat. Handing her keys to the valet, she sidestepped a large dirty pile of slush and made her way across the sidewalk. She normally ate lunch closer to the office, but today she’d talked herself into doing some high-level networking. It wasn’t anything like stalking. Not really. Just putting herself in the possible right place at the right time.

She smiled at the uniformed doorman as she passed through the heavy glass door he held open for her. St. Bart’s was the kind of stuffy, upscale restaurant she usually avoided, but here she was casually, oh-so-casually, plotting to “run into” Sol Klineman at his favorite lunch spot.

Inside, she climbed the short, thickly carpeted stairway to where the hostess stood in smiling welcome with just a hint of deferential subservience.

“Table for one?” A woman in her late twenties, the hostess wore tasteful, expensive jewelry and shoes. She fit in her surroundings very well.

“Yes, please.” She couldn’t help wondering if Alex ate here. It wasn’t that far from his office. But, of course, he wasn’t the reason she was here.

Without being obvious, Eden scanned the room for Sol Klineman.

There, at a table in the far corner, facing the street, sat not only her quarry, but Sarah Briggs, as well. A third seat at the table was also occupied, by a man she recognized as Jonathan Birdwell. She knew Birdwell by reputation, as did anyone in the Chicago business world. He was a banker of high standing.

She’d hit the mother lode…if she managed this carefully.

“Follow me,” the hostess said, having gathered up a small, expensively-bound menu.

While Eden dithered, trying to decide the best way to establish contact with the threesome at the back table, the hostess—just doing her job—solved the problem.

She walked Eden right into the corner where Sol and Sarah’s table sat.

Rejoicing at the success of her plan, Eden trod up to her own small table and turned as if to thank the hostess.

There they were—five feet away.

“My goodness!” Sol said, looking over as if on cue. “Eden Merritt. My dear, how lovely to see you.”

He stood and Eden went over, relieved at the naturalness of the action.

“You’re having lunch?” Sol asked.

“Yes,” she replied, greeting Sarah Briggs.

“You must join us,” Sol invited. “We have an empty fourth chair at our table just waiting for you.

“Are you sure?” she demurred, knowing he’d override her.

“Of course. Eden, have you met Jonathan Birdwell? No? Jonathan, Eden is our secret weapon at Michele Cosmetics. She’s a whiz with both product development and personnel.”

“How nice to meet you, Ms. Merritt,” Jonathan Birdwell said, standing to shake the hand she offered. An older man with silver hair, he said, “I believe I’ve heard your name a few times. Compliments, always.”

Eden laughed, encouraged by his smile. “Thank you.”

“I’m so glad to see you,” Sarah said. “Are you recovered from the flu? We’ve got to set up another racquetball game!”

“Of course,” Eden said immediately, as she allowed Sol to seat her. “Whenever you’re free.”

Now, she just had to impress them with how damned intelligent, competent and powerful, she was capable of being. If she could mention the problems with the factory workers up coming contract negotiations, so much the better.

She’d given herself completely to this pursuit. She couldn’t falter now. With the job or with Alex—they were really one in the same.

Eden hated that fact.

***

“We’re going to a party?” Eden questioned, standing in Alex’s foyer, her knitted scarf still around her neck. “You didn’t say anything about a party. I thought we were staying here for the evening.”

Taking the ends of her scarf, Alex wrapped it more securely around her neck. He bent forward, his mouth open and delicious on hers.

Eden let him pull her close, tilting her head up to revel in the mating of their mouths. She’d come here tonight to make love. Oh, yes, they’d said they were going to talk about the details of the board meeting—looming only six weeks away—but she’d known they’d end up naked and replete at some point in the evening.

His body hard and heated against hers, she returned his kiss. It was just for now, she whispered to her guilt. In a very short while, he’d hate her and she’d never again feel his arms wrapped so tight around her, his mouth so warm and persuasive on hers.

She’d never again have to hate herself for wanting a man who was lying to her.

“So,” she gasped a moment later, “you really want to go out?”

His forehead resting on hers, Alex chuckled. The soft, playful sound wrapped itself around her, warmer than the scarf at her neck.

“We’ll go meet my friends, eat, drink, mingle a little and then later…dessert.” He kissed her nose, pulling back to button her coat up to her neck.

“Okay.” She stood still beneath his nurturing gesture, her heart feeling squeezed in a vice. How could he be so damned loving when he’d schemed and manipulated to get her to do what he wanted? And all for money and power.

It just didn’t fit, she thought, despairing. But no matter how much the truth hurt, she had to make herself face it. Eventually.

“I’d like to meet your friends,” she said, “but isn’t it foolish for us to be seen together in public, at this point? I’m not interested in someone finding out I’m colluding with you.”

Alex laughed. “Colluding. Sounds dirty and really interesting. I like
colluding
with you. But I know what you mean—and you don’t have to worry. We’re going to a small party at the home of a buddy of mine. Three or four couples and no one who’s in the press or has anything to do with Wall Street.”

“Good.” Just for tonight, just for these few weeks, she wanted to pretend. If she had to double-deal, then she’d let herself play the part of loving him.

Seated fifteen minutes later in the passenger seat of his car as he drove, Eden listened to Alex talk about his nieces.

“…then Bella came hurtling around the corner—like she was shot out of a cannon—and just broadsided Bryan, knocked him on his ass,” Alex finished, laughing at the memory. “And this isn’t the first time he’s been so caught up in the stuff in his head that he forgets the girls are there.”

Chuckling with him at the image of proper Bryan sprawled out on the floor, she said, “But he wasn’t hurt?”

“No,” Alex assured her. “He’s in pretty good shape. He sort of fell over as he caught Bella’s chair and brought her to a stop.”

“You enjoy your nieces. Not many uncles would let their office be used as a raceway,” Eden commented, not letting herself fantasize about how terrific a father he’d make.

Alex shrugged. “There’s no point to having money if you can’t have fun. The girls don’t cause any trouble.”

“As long as Bryan remembers to look before he walks across the hall,” she finished for him.

“Yes,” he said, downshifting the powerful car as they turned a corner.

“So, do you have safety meetings at Holt Management to warn people about the raceway? Train your staff to watch out for their safety?”

“Of course,” he deadpanned. “All my people are trained in conducting chair races in the hallways. That and betting in the office pool. The really important work-related things.”

Eden watched him, aided by the lights from the car’s instrument panel. “They’re important to you. The people who work for you.”

Glancing over, he said, “Of course. I don’t do well if they don’t. It’s a team effort.”

“Didn’t you tell me Bryan had worked for you for six years? Right out of law school?”

“Yes,” Alex said, steering through traffic. “Rosie’s been with me even longer. We’re a good team.”

“You’re committed to them, aren’t you?” Eden asked, the thought hitting her as ironic. She felt the same about her people, the ones she’d hired at Michele Cosmetics, the friends she might be helping to put out of work if Alex got his way.

“Absolutely,” he replied. “They bust their asses for me and I do the same for them. I’m a kidney-volunteering kind of guy when it comes to the people I love.”

Not commenting on the warm glance he sent her way, she said, “You’d offer your kidney if one of them needed it.”

“In an instant,” he confirmed.

She looked at him, struggling to fit together the seemingly-conflicting parts of who he was.

“You’re committed to
them
, to the people who work for you, but not to…anything else?”

Alex turned quickly, casting her a puzzled glance. “What do you mean? I’m committed to a lot of things, a lot of people.”

She was silent for a moment, knowing she was crazy to have brought the subject up again. What did it matter that Alex had a problem building enterprises? This relationship had no future. Why could Alex’s “commitment” issues be any concern of hers? It wasn’t like she expected to marry him.