She was not anxious to start this argument again. Not right then, at the start of their fake date.
He sighed and she knew he was not going to let it drop. “I was traveling almost nonstop back in those days. I had no interest in office politics. One day, I got a message stating that your father wanted me to return immediately. When I got back, he told me that he had heard from a reliable source on the board that some members were unhappy with his performance. He said he had even heard they had already picked out a successor. He asked me what I knew, and I told him. Nothing. No one had spoken to me about getting rid of him or replacing him. That night I got a call from Ward Harding. He said that the board had voted and it was unanimous. They had fired your father.”
Lessa glanced out the window at the thought of the pain her father must have felt. Ward Harding had once been one of his closest friends. “Only then did Ward ask if I would be interested in replacing your father.”
“And you said yes.”
“No. I needed time to think about it. I liked the travel and I had no desire to get swept up into office politics and become a manager. But when I found out what they planned on doing to your father, breaking their contract and giving him only a pittance of what he deserved, I felt I had no choice. Assuming the presidency was the only way I could help him.”
She would have liked to believe that Rick was totally selfless and that his assuming the presidency had been a personal sacrifice, but try as she might, it was a hard nut to crack.
“Believe it or not, that’s the truth,” he said, his blue eyes radiating sincerity.
One thing was clear. She wanted to believe him.
“He thought you lied to him. That you were the one who convinced the board to fire him.”
“He needed someone to blame. And he preferred me to his oldest and dearest friends.”
She thought about the uptight, stuffy board over which she now presided. Ward, Franklin, Constance, John, men and women she’d known since childhood. And she wanted to throttle them.
But it was the night of the Christmas party. She wasn’t about to ruin it by picking a fight with an old, opinionated and ridiculous board member. She had to change the subject. She had to prepare mentally for the task ahead of her. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, she said, “By the way, I really appreciate what you did last night, helping me with the tree.”
“It was my pleasure.”
“I hope you got to your date all right. She wasn’t too mad at you, was she?” Lessa managed to say as nonchalantly as she could.
“My date?”
“I overheard you on the phone last night-”
“I hardly think a business dinner with Betty counts as a date,” he interrupted.
“Betty?” Lessa felt a surge of relief. His secretary was the mystery woman?
“Of course. I always make Betty go to these functions and she always complains. As she is always reminding me, she doesn’t need another man to take care of.”
“What’s the game plan for tonight?” Lessa asked, feeling suddenly refreshed, as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
“Look, Lessa,” he said, “I know you’re not happy about this ridiculous pretend game. But I really think it will work.”
How wrong he was. She was actually beginning to enjoy this game. “I hope so.”
“Tonight I’m going to try and make this as easy for you as possible. I don’t think we need to fall over each other. I think it’s enough that we show up and leave together.”
“Good,” she said as enthusiastically as possible. How could she tell him that she had been anxious for another opportunity to kiss him?
They drove the rest of the way in silence, until they pulled into the parking garage and he said, “Wait for me to open the door and help you down.”
“I thought you said no open displays of affection.”
“I’m not worried about what others might think. I just didn’t want you falling out. It’s kind of steep.”
“I think I can handle it,” she said. She thought back to Sabrina’s story about how she’d met Rick when he’d carried her off the boat. He was obviously used to the fragile type. “I used to do plyometrics-jumping up and down off a step while holding a medicine ball.”
He nodded toward her shoes. “In heels?”
Just to prove her point, she swung her door open and jumped out. “Can’t pass up a dare, can you?” he asked, walking around to greet her. He took her arm and together they walked inside the building next door. Lessa couldn’t help but notice the shocked looks on her coworkers’ faces when they saw Rick’s arm casually looped through hers. They endured a strained elevator ride up to the main floor of Lawrence Enterprises. It was crowded with office workers dancing to the live band and enjoying the free-flowing champagne.
“Looks like your party is a success,” he said into her ear.
“It’s in full swing,” she agreed. Standing so close, she could feel the sexual magnetism that made him so self-confident.
“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked, as if he really were her date.
“White wine, please,” she replied. He smiled at her and she felt her insides turn to mush.
“What was that all about?” her assistant asked, approaching her after Rick had left. “Did you come here with him?”
“Yes,” Lessa said quickly.
Fran looked at her silently, as if waiting for her to continue. Lessa liked her but knew that she couldn’t confide in her. There was too much riding on the whole scheme. But she couldn’t lie to her either. And so Lessa said nothing on the subject. Instead she glanced around the room and said, “They did a good job with the decorations.”
“After you left today,” Fran said, “we heard from one of the buyers in Antigua. He’s ready to make an offer.”
Lessa felt a surge of excitement as she thought about the property in Florida. Her dream was one step closer to reality. “Great. I just need to run it past Rick,” she said casually, trying to minimize the importance of his approval.
“I hope he’s not furious,” Fran said. “Antigua’s his baby, his pride and joy.”
“It’s not a baby, it’s a property. And Rick is a businessman. He’ll appreciate all my research and my hard work.”
Fran shook her head. “The last person who tried to do this without his approval got fired. But then again, they weren’t friends,” she said, emphasizing the word.
Lessa felt a hint of anxiety. She suspected Fran was only joking about him firing her. But he could make things unpleasant. After all, he had before.
She glanced around the room. Where was Rick anyway? Wasn’t he supposed to be getting her a glass of wine? “I don’t want to talk about business. How does everyone seem to be enjoying the party?” she asked.
Fran shrugged, as if she weren’t impressed. “The shrimp is good.”
After Fran had left to check out the desserts, Lessa headed toward the inner office staircase. The offices of Lawrence Enterprises took up the top five floors of a downtown building. In her attempt to make this party special, Lessa had spared no expense. Each floor had been decorated and had its own private bar. She walked up the ivy-lined staircase and found Rick outside his office, deep in conversation with the head controller. She was just about to make her way over to them when she recognized one of the senior board members flirting brazenly with a woman young enough to be his granddaughter. John Roberson was a nasty old man, one who had long been a thorn in her side. She glanced away, hoping to avoid eye contact. But it was too late.
“Look who’s here,” he said a loud and slurred voice as he made his way toward her. “The woman who single-handedly took ten points off our stock.”
His remark had the intended effect. The crowd was stunned into silence. Lessa choked back her humiliation, aware that, once again, every eye was on her.