Dream Trilogy (72 page)

It took an effort, but he kept his eyes solemn. “I’ve always heard you shake ’em. If they don’t rattle, they’re female.”

It took her a moment. Then she broke into easy, appreciative laughter. “I’ll be sure to try it. When the girls aren’t around.”

“There you are. I don’t suppose I’ve heard you laugh like that more than a half a dozen times since I’ve known you. You were always being too dignified when I was around.”

“I’m sure you’re mistaken.”

“Sugar, I don’t make many mistakes when it comes to women.”

“No, I don’t imagine you would.” To give herself a moment to make her retreat—yes, damn it, a dignified retreat—she turned to the gelding. “This is a handsome horse.”

“He’s smart. Quiet-natured. Jack?”

At his name the horse pricked his ears. Soberly, he turned his head to Michael. “How old are you, Jack?”

In response, the horse stomped a foot four times.

“What do you think of the lady here?”

Jack rolled his eyes toward Laura and let out a quiet and undeniably roguish whinny.

Charmed, Laura laughed again. “How do you get him to do that?”

“Jack? He understands every word you say. Want to take the lady for a ride, Jack?” The response was a decisive nod. “See?” Michael turned his own swift—and undeniably roguish grin—on Laura. “Want a ride, lady?”

“I—” God, she would love one, love to feel a horse beneath her again, let it have its head. Let herself lose hers. “I’d enjoy that, but I don’t have the time.” She offered Michael a polite, distant smile. “I’ll take a rain check.”

“Cash it in whenever you like.” Too used to Thoroughbreds, he assumed, and shrugged. He’d take Jack over some finicky purebred any day.

“Thank you. I’d better get my motley crew inside. That is, if Annie lets us inside.”

“She’s a tough nut, Mrs. Sullivan.”

“She’s family,” Laura corrected. “But I should have warned her before I started a small zoo.”

“That small zoo is going to keep you up most of the night.”

“I’ll manage.”

 

She managed, but it wasn’t a walk in the park. The puppy whimpered and whined and, despite Kayla’s lavish love, was satisfied with nothing less than Laura’s bed. She knew it was a mistake, but she couldn’t bring herself to banish him when he cuddled so hopefully against her side.

The kittens mewed, fretted, cried, and eventually were comforted by each other, and the hot water bottle that an already doting Annie provided.

As a result, Laura was gritty-eyed and foggy-brained the next morning.

She fumbled at the keyboard in her office at the hotel, cursed herself, then focused on the file for an upcoming writers’ convention. Twelve hundred people checking in at approximately the same time, certainly on the same day, were going to present a challenge. Then there were the hospitality suites, banquet and seminar rooms, audio equipment, pitchers of water, requests for coffee services, catering demands.

Cartons of books were already arriving by the truckload. She appreciated the spirit of the planned book signing for literacy, as well as the headaches it was going to cause her and her staff.

Composing a memo one-handed, she picked up her ringing phone. At the sound of the conference coordinator’s voice, she struggled not to wince. “Yes, Melissa, it’s Laura Templeton. How can I help you today?”

And tomorrow, and for the rest of my natural life, she thought as the woman requested more additions, more changes, just a few more little adjustments.

“Naturally, if the weather’s inclement and we’re unable to hold your welcoming party at poolside, we’ll provide you with an alternate space. The Garden Ballroom is lovely. We often hold wedding receptions there. It’s still available for that date.”

She listened, rubbed fingers against her temple. “No, I’m not able to do that, Melissa, but if we do book the ballroom, we’ll provide another alternate. I realize we’re talking more than a thousand people. We’ll accommodate you.”

She continued to listen, made notes that somehow became mindless doodles. “Yes, I’m looking forward to seeing you again, too. I’ll be in touch.”

Taking one breath, one moment to clear her mind again, she got back to her memo.

“Laura.”

She didn’t groan, but she wanted to. “Byron, did we have a meeting?”

“No.” He stepped in, seemed to fill her small office with his size. “Aren’t you taking lunch?”

“Lunch? It can’t be noon.”

“No, it can’t,” he said mildly as she looked at her watch. “It’s half past noon.”

“The morning got away from me. I’m due at the shop in an hour. I have to finish this. Is there something urgent?”

Eyeing her, he closed the door at his back. “Take a break.”

“I really can’t. I need—”

“Take a break,” he repeated. “That’s an order.” To ensure that she obeyed it, he sat down. “Now, Ms. Templeton, let’s talk about delegating.”

“Byron, I do delegate. It’s just that Fitz is running ragged over the Milhouse-Drury wedding reception, and Robyn’s swamped. The pharmaceutical convention and a kid with chicken pox. And—”

“And it all comes down to you,” he finished. “You look exhausted, honey.”

She pouted. “Are you speaking as my brother-in-law or as executive director?”

“Both. If you’re not going to take care of yourself—”

“I am taking care of myself.” She smothered a smile. Byron’s stand on health and fitness was well known. “I just didn’t get much sleep last night. I went to the pound yesterday.”

He brightened, as she’d known he would. He’d adopted two dogs the year before. “Yeah? What did you get?”

“A puppy and two kittens. The girls are in ecstasy. And this morning, I caught Annie carrying the pup like he was a newborn baby, and telling him that good dogs mustn’t piddle on the Bokhara rug.”

“Start stocking up on newspaper. We’ll have to come over and check out your new additions.”

“Come by tonight.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Before or after the country club dance?”

“The Valentine’s Day dance.” She shut her eyes. “I forgot.”

“No getting out of it, Laura. You’re a Templeton. You’re expected.”

“I know, I know.” There went the long, indulgent bath-and-early-to-bed night she’d been fantasizing about. “I’ll be there. I would have remembered.”

“If you hadn’t, Kate and Margo would have reminded you. Look, why don’t you let your partners handle the shop this afternoon? Go take a nap.”

“J. T. is having his checkup this afternoon. I can’t leave Kate on her own. We’re inundated with the Valentine’s Day sale.”

“Which reminds me . . .”

Understanding, she smiled. “It’s only the tenth, Byron. You still have time to pick up that well-thought-out, loving gift. And no matter what Kate says, don’t buy her computer software. Flowers always work for me.”

And no one had sent her flowers, she thought, in too long to remember. When her mind drifted to a tiny yellow wildflower, she pulled it back, and called herself an idiot.

“She’s not getting that new calculator she’s been hinting for, either.” He rose. “Do you want a lift to the club tonight?”

So went the life of a single woman, Laura mused. Always tagging along with couples. “No, thanks. I’ll see you there.”

 

“I’m not the country club type, Josh.” As if someone had already forced him into a suit, Michael rolled his shoulders.

“I’d consider it a favor.”

Scowling, Michael measured out grain. “I hate it when you do that.”

“And I’d be able to introduce you to a lot of potential horse owners. I happen to know someone who has an impressive stud. You did say you have a mare ready to breed.”

“Yeah, she’s ready.” And he wanted the right sire for her. “So, you’ll give me his name, and I’ll talk to him. I don’t have to go to some lame dance. And I’m the last person your sister wants taking her to some lame dance.”

“It’s not like a date.” So Margo had said when she’d drilled the request into his head. “It’s just that Laura’s feeling like a third wheel at these things. I didn’t realize it myself, but Margo pointed it out.”

And, Josh thought as he watched Michael divvy up grains, had made him feel like a lower form of life. “Then I realized how often Laura either skips going to events, or cuts out early. It would be nice for her to have an escort, that’s all.”

“A woman like your sister ought to have a platoon of likely escorts lined up and waiting.” And all with the proper pedigree, Michael thought.

“Yeah, well, she doesn’t seem interested in swimming with the sharks in the dating pool.” Was he supposed to do something about that, too? Josh wondered and nearly shuddered. “She knows you, Mick. She’d be comfortable with you. And it would give you the chance to make some contacts. Everybody’s happy.”

“I’m not happy when I have to wear a tie.” He glanced over his shoulder and grinned. “Not like you, Harvard, in your fancy Italian suit. Get the hell out of my barn.”

“Come on, Mick. It’s just one night out of your fascinating and fun-filled life. We’ll hit the game room, play some billiards, tell some lies.”

There was that, Michael considered. And the alternative was a sandwich and an evening hunkered over his drawings for his projected house. “I can still bury your ass at pool.”

“I’ll lend you a tie.”

“Fuck you.” One of the cats streaked by, pounced in a blur of black. There was a short squeal.

“Christ, that’s disgusting.”

“That’s life, Harvard.” Michael moved back to deal with Darling’s meal, measuring the additives necessary for her condition.

“You really know what you’re doing around here, don’t you?”

“Apparently we all have our niche.”

Josh mused over how many niches Michael had already found and rejected. Yet he had a feeling this one was different. They’d known each other too long and too well for Josh to miss the easy contentment in his friend’s moves. A contentment, he thought, that had never quite been there before.

“This is the one, isn’t it?”

Michael glanced over. He didn’t need to explain, not to Josh. He only needed to say one word. “Yeah.”

“If I know you, you want to make something big out of it.”

He yearned to. “In my own time.”

Josh took his, waiting while Michael fed the expectant mother, checked her hay-net, babied her. “Monterey Riding Academy? The owners are friends of the family.”

“So?”

“They’ll be at the club tonight. Kate was their accountant when she was with Bittle and Associates. They do a lot of buying and selling. So do their students.”

Ambition, Michael admitted, was always a trap. “You’re a slick son of a bitch, Harvard. You always were.”

Josh merely grinned. “We all have our niche.”

“Laura might not go for this little arrangement of yours.”

“I can handle Laura,” Josh said confidently, and checked his watch. “I’ve got enough time to slip by the shop and do just that before my last meeting today. The dance is at nine. I’ll tell her you’ll pick her up at eight-thirty—wearing a tie.”

“If you don’t make this worth my while, pal, I’ll have to kick your ass.” He brushed grain dust from his hands. “I won’t enjoy it, but I’ll have to do it.”

“Understood.” Satisfied with the outcome of his mission, Josh headed for the door. “Ah, you do know the way to the club, don’t you?”

Appreciating the sarcasm, Michael tilted his head. “Maybe I will enjoy it after all.”

 

She was furious, livid. And trapped. They’d ganged up on her, Laura fumed as she yanked the pearl gray Miska cocktail dress out of her closet. Josh and Margo and Kate, cornering her at Pretenses and all but presenting her with a fait accompli.

Michael Fury was escorting her to the country club dance. The arrangement would suit everyone. They wouldn’t have to worry about her driving there and back alone or about her feeling awkward at an event designed for couples. Michael would gain an entrée and make contacts in the horse world.

Oh, yeah, it suited everyone just fine. Everyone but herself.

It was humiliating, she thought as she jerked the zipper up. A thirty-year-old woman being fixed up by her big brother. Worse, now Michael knew that she was the pathetic divorcée who couldn’t get her own date. As if she wanted one in the first place, or the last place, or any place at all, for that matter.

“Which I don’t,” she told the dog, who had come into her room to watch her every move with adoring eyes. “I don’t even want to go to the damn country club tonight. I’m tired.”

Sympathetically he wiggled his butt as she stormed over to the closet for shoes and a beaded jacket. She didn’t need to hang on to a man’s arm to feel complete. She didn’t need to hang on to anything, anyone. Why couldn’t she just crawl into bed and read a book, she wondered. Eat popcorn and watch an old movie on TV until she fell asleep with the set still on.

Why did she have to dress up, go out in public, and be Laura Templeton? She stopped, sighed. Because she
was
Laura Templeton. That was something she couldn’t forget. Laura Templeton had responsibilities, she had an image to maintain.

So, she told herself as she picked up her lipstick and applied it skillfully, she would maintain it. She would get through the evening, say the right things to the right people. She would be as polite and friendly to Michael as necessary. And when the whole blasted thing was over, she would fall facedown on her bed and forget it. Until the next time.

She checked her hair. God, she needed a trim. And when was she going to fit that in? She turned for her bag and watched in mild horror as the pup wet on her Aubusson.

“Oh, Bongo!”

He grinned up at her and sat in his own pee.

 

It was only a small rebellion, but Michael didn’t wear a tie. He figured that with Laura Templeton at his side they wouldn’t boot him out for wearing a black turtleneck under his jacket.