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“Is something wrong?” Tess asked.
Mitzi handed her the credit card. “You forgot this.”
“Oh, thank you.” Tess took hold of the card, but Mitzi didn’t let go of it. Instead, she frowned, her dark eyes boring into Tess’s, as if she was searching for something.
“You don’t know anything about this place, do you?” she said.
“New York?”
“Pratt-Summers.”
“I know it’s one of the best ad agencies in the country.”
A sniff of derision. “And you came here with the highest hopes, thinking this was your big chance. But it could just as easily be your downfall. Not everyone is your friend.”
Tess tugged the credit card free. “What are you talking about?”
Mitzi shrugged, as if to say she’d done all she could. She reached up to pat Tess’s face, and it was all Tess could do not to shrink away.
“Why is it that we always want what we can’t have?” Mitzi asked, lowering her voice. “Use your senses, all five of them.”
Tess wanted to make light of the woman’s intensity, but she couldn’t quite break the spell Mitzi had woven. “I will,” she said.
“He has a secret.”
Tess blinked. “He? Who?”
“Danny Gabriel. You only think you know him.”
“I don’t know him at all.”
“Good, you understand.” Mitzi nodded. “Don’t take the people you work with for granted, especially if they have power over your career. I just don’t want you to be blindsided.” She started back to her stool. “It could happen.”
Tess was becoming exasperated. “Are you going to tell me what you’re talking about?”
Mitzi shook her head. She tsked. “My problem is I talk too much. Ask anyone. Pay no attention to me. You’re busy. Go back to work. You’re a good girl, solid. You’ll do fine.”
Tess had been blown off before, but Mitzi was a maestro. Tess didn’t much appreciate the good-girl remark, either. It was the second time today she’d been called that, and it was making her feel like a virgin being groomed as a sacrifice to the advertising gods.
The gallows humor was meant to loosen the knots in Tess’s stomach, but it didn’t work. Was that why she’d been brought here? To be someone’s scapegoat? To draw fire? Every office had internal politics, and she already knew something about this company’s problems, but Mitzi seemed to be suggesting there was more going on. And Mitzi might actually be in a position to know. Her bathroom was the equivalent of a locker room/spa where people came to hang out and gossip.
Tess debated the wisdom of trying to pry more information out of the washroom attendant. Maybe it was a sign that the three women reappeared from the lounge, saying they wanted to look over Mitzi’s wares. Tess noticed how chatty and personal they were with her. One of them asked her about her acting job. Apparently she had a bit part in an off-off-Broadway play. Another kidded her about her sexy new haircut.
Tess made it a point to say hello to the women before she left, and to thank Mitzi again for the tea. A woman with enemies couldn’t be too careful.
Relief washed over her once she was out the door and heading back to her office. Maybe from now on she’d go to the downstairs bathroom. Better for the hypertension, which she probably had by now.
It was mid-afternoon on a Friday, and the twenty-eighth floor seemed quiet as she traveled hallways that curved and meandered to evoke the tributaries of a river. You could get seasick trying to get around quickly. The walls were covered with murals painted by some of the agency’s artists. One was a whimsical underwater motif with sea creatures who’d been given the faces of various staff members. Tess hadn’t figured out what the deeper meaning might be, but she hadn’t failed to notice that Gabriel was a dolphin. Better than a shark, she supposed.
Tess passed the art and production studio on the way to her corner office, but avoided looking inside. She didn’t want to be tempted. She loved seeing the ideas become reality, and this studio was spectacular, large and magnificently equipped. But she couldn’t dawdle any longer. It felt as if the entire day had slipped away from her, and tonight’s dinner was going to be another time-suck. Worse, she would be spending it with a bunch of people who made her nervous—and apparently had secrets that could blindside her. Great.
“Where is it?” Tess hesitated in her office doorway, talking to herself as she peered at her desk. Her heart jumped painfully. “Where’s my PDA?”
Her personal digital assistant was also her cell phone, but there’d been no place to attach it to her jumpsuit when she went to the Qigong session, so she’d left it on her desk. She’d set it on the lead-crystal box that had been her going-away gift from Renaissance. She specifically remembered doing that.
Tess didn’t have an assistant. She did her own scheduling via the PDA’s digital calendar and memo pad. It contained all her appointments, her address book, even her various passwords. All her vital information was stored on that contraption! She would rather have lost an arm.
She began to search her office, starting with the drawers of her desk, which was a rather strange-looking antique made of rattan and glass that creaked under any kind of weight. Actually, the entire office was strange, although Tess loved the wraparound windows that surrounded her from behind. She wasn’t as crazy about the enormous German Messerschmitt airplane nose coming out of the wall facing her desk. The last occupant had clearly been a World War II nut. There was a glass case of army divisional patches, of which the 101
Airborne Screaming Eagle was her favorite. That was one pissed-off bird. If she could ever remember, she would have to ask why all the paraphernalia had been left behind.
She’d been told she could redecorate on the company’s budget, but there hadn’t been time to think about that. Meanwhile, she wanted to duck every time she looked up and saw the plane. She felt like she was about to be strafed.
“Where the hell?” She lifted a stack of account files and searched through the rattan baskets sitting on the credenza behind her desk. Nothing. The PDA had vanished. Maybe she hadn’t left it on the crystal box?
She noticed her quilted coat hanging on the coatrack and reminded herself to check the pockets. At the same time, she saw the blinking message light on her office phone. She’d missed that completely when she came in.
She picked up the receiver and punched in her voice-mail password. At least she had that one memorized. The disembodied electronic voice told her she had several new messages, and she raced through them until she got to one from Erica Summers. The CEO’s musical voice filled her ear.
“Tess, I just found out that Danny Gabriel can’t make our little dinner tonight. He left a message saying that he’d run into you this morning and was very favorably impressed, so didn’t feel a pressing need to attend tonight. Apparently he’s up against a deadline.” Erica sniffed. “We’ll just have to muddle through without him, won’t we? Looking forward to it, Tess.”
Tess hung up the phone and swore softly. Gabriel had just blown her off, and he’d used the company CEO to do it. The guy had balls. He would be conspicuous by his absence at dinner tonight, an obvious sign to the board that he didn’t consider his new codirector important enough to bother with.
Tess had feared the dinner might not go well, but this was ridiculous. She took a deep breath, willing herself to let it go and get back to work. She still had to find her PDA. There was no time to waste on professional ego trips, and she felt certain that’s what this was. But a half hour later she’d given up on the search—and she was still steaming over Danny’s slight. She couldn’t concentrate on anything but her outrage, which wasn’t like her at all.
The desk gave out a noisy groan as she rose.
So, Danny Gabriel was impressed, was he? She was about to make an even deeper impression on him. It was almost four o’clock by her watch. He shouldn’t have left the building yet, if he truly had so much work to do. She had no idea where his office was, but she would search until she found it.
Chapter Three
Tess clicked down the hall in her high-heel boots, pencil skirt and black velvet Edwardian jacket. It was five-fifteen, and she had forty-five minutes before the limo was scheduled to pick her up for the reception. She’d decided to change into her dinner outfit and let Gabriel get a look at what he’d be missing—and call him on his blatant attempt to undermine her on her big night. You never got a second chance to make a first impression, and this was her chance with the company brass, which he very well knew. She even managed to get the kinks out of her hair with a special spray that relaxed and defrizzed. It had loosened her curls, and now they were bouncing all over her head. Extra-large silver hoop earrings and a kiss-my-ass attitude rounded out the look.
She’d also had two cups of Mitzi’s tea. No one could say Tess Wakefield didn’t live dangerously.
Check it out, Gabe, baby. This is the lady you kicked to the curb. Maybe you should watch your shins. She’s wearing boots.
Tess had never felt so tricked-out and sexy. It was almost fun. She figured it was the PMS or the tea, but either way, she had a few choice words for her codirector. She’d called the agency’s receptionist for directions to his office, which had turned out to be quite simple. He was on the opposite end of the building from her, in his own corner office.
The twenty-eighth floor was now a ghost town. Tess didn’t see another soul as she crossed the building. Everyone had gone for the weekend, but if Gabriel really had a deadline, he might still be around.
His office door was open when she got there, but she found no one inside. The room was mostly windows and traditional in style, which surprised her. She’d expected to find a dark, artsy lair, with decor that might even be mystical. One of the many rumors about him was that he had Native American blood. Instead, everything was ma-hogany, beautifully carved with reflecting-pool surfaces and damask upholstery. It reminded her of a federal court, except for the two walls of posters showcasing his ads.
Tess took a moment to check them out. He was very good, but she knew that. What struck her was the unexpected way the ads were displayed. On one side of the room, they were bright and upbeat, with vibrant colors and attractive models. On the other side, the ads had a dark edginess that bordered on sinister. But, even more perplexing, on the abutting wall hung just one poster—a misty pastel of a child in a swing, rising toward the setting sun. It almost looked as if she were going to slip off the seat and fly away.
What a strange juxtaposition, Tess thought. It was enough to make you wonder if Gabriel was bipolar. Mitzi had said he had a secret. Tess was curious whether the ads might have something to do with that, but there wasn’t time to explore. She turned and saw a set of double doors that led to what looked like a conference room. The doors were partially open, and she could see movement inside. Maybe he was in there, preparing for his deadline.
Tess peeked through the doors and saw Gabriel bent over a storyboard, probably checking out the sketches for a client’s television spot. “Am I interrupting?” she asked, opening the doors.
He glanced up at her and did a double take. She couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes narrowed. Whether it was appreciation or appraisal, she couldn’t tell, but his gaze was riveting.
“You’re perfect,” he said. “Come in.”
“What?”
“You’re wearing boots, a skirt. It’s perfect.” He beckoned her over to him. “Come on in.”
Tess didn’t move from the doorway.
He took a chair from the conference table and rolled it to within a few feet of where she stood. She had no idea what he was doing as he positioned the chair in front of the doors.
“Right here,” he said. “Come over and sit down, please. I have something to show you.”
The please did the trick. She couldn’t resist conviction.
She walked to the chair, aware of him standing there with his hands on the leather back, as if he were about to give her a ride.
“Are you going to tell me why I’m doing this?” she asked, wondering what would happen to her very skinny skirt when she sat. Surely he wasn’t angling for that, a leg shot.
“All will be explained,” he assured her, “but not yet. That would ruin it.”
He stopped her before she could sit down. “Let’s fix that skirt first,” he said. “Here.”
He actually came around the chair and turned her toward him, then spun her skirt until the slit in the back was running up the side of her leg. With any encouragement at all, the opening would now reveal an eyeful of caramel thigh. Thank God for liquid stockings.
“Mmm, yes. Perfect.”
It was almost erotic the way he said that word, perfect. Like a man whispering something dirty in a woman’s ear.
He sat her in the chair and knelt in front of her, apparently to do some more adjusting of her person.
She pulled back as his hand grazed her leg. “What are you doing?”
“Relax,” he said, “trust me, please, this is important.” She wasn’t as taken with his conviction this time, but she was very curious.
“Unbend your knee. Here, like this.” He inched her left leg forward a little and then propped her sleek laced boot on its spiky heel, with the tip pointing in the air.
“Good,” he said, rising to look at her. He nodded, murmuring something about how perfect this was under his breath.
Interesting that she had to focus on what he said. It was entirely possible he was doing that on purpose, making her listen. He had a reputation as a persuasive pitchman, a closer, as they said in sales, but there was nothing overtly aggressive about him. Even now, he came across as supremely laid-back, and yet he radiated energy. It was like droplets sizzling on his skin.
She’d heard all the rumors, that Danny Gabriel was deadly smart and blindingly handsome, almost his own species. She’d heard them. She just hadn’t wanted to believe them. No wonder they needed someone to corral this guy.
He studied her, his features knit in concentration.
“Lean back and support yourself on the arms of the chair,” he said, giving her direction as if they were on a photo shoot. “Good. Now relax and arch your spine. Can you give me a little more bend? Try to relax and arch your spine.”
Tess drew herself up and felt the chair move. “The wheels are going to roll out from under me.”
“Here, I’ll steady you.” He moved behind her and gripped the chair. “Try it again,” he said. “Lean into the arch and tilt your head back. God, yes, that’s great.”
Tess’s spine bowed with tension, locking her in place. At that moment, all she could see were the edges of him, a blur. But when his head came into her line of sight, and he looked down at her, she suddenly felt vulnerable. She started to sit up.
“No, wait,” he said. “This is important. Look at me. Look at me, Tess.”
She held on to the chair, steadying herself. As she gazed up at him, she could feel her jacket fall open and her skirt creep up. She was balancing herself with the heel of one boot. Her other foot had lifted off the floor.
What must she look like? What the hell was he doing?
“How much longer?” she asked, annoyed. “I can’t hold this.”
“Just a few more seconds.” He pulled the chair back toward him. “We’re almost there, and you look hotter than hell. Don’t think about anything but that—how hot you look. Amazing.”
His voice dropped low and sexy. He was still murmuring as he bent down and fitted his mouth to hers in a weightless kiss. Tess’s grip tightened. Her whole body quivered as she struggled to get up, but there was no way possible. All of the laws of gravity and physics were against her, and with his mouth locked to hers, she couldn’t move.
“Perfect,” he whispered against her lips.
Tess’s body reacted to the extreme vulnerability of her position. Her flesh felt as if it had caught fire. Her nipples zinged to life, hardening instantly, and the cotton crotch of her panties should have been steaming they were so damp. What was happening? She could feel herself lubricating down there, blushing with shock and excitement.
He broke the kiss, freeing her, and Tess sat up too quickly. Dizziness washed over her. She’d been upside down so long the blood had left her head.
“What kind of stunt was that?” she asked, fighting to get her bearings.
“No stunt,” he said.
“You kissed me.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah? What do you mean yeah? This is an office. We’re coworkers. Who the hell do you think you are?”
“True, but let me show you why I did it.”
Before she could catch her breath, he was standing in front of her. Tess stole a glance at his crotch—and hated herself for it. Did she really care whether or not he’d been as turned on as she had? There was no hope for her.
“Look at that,” he said, pointing to her legs. “It’s perfect.”
The man was a broken record. “What’s perfect?”
“What you did when I kissed you.” He knelt next to her. “Look at how you’re sitting—the way you raised your right leg and hooked your toe under the left.”
Tess saw that the tip of one boot was tucked under her other calf. “So what?” she said. “I was trying not to fall over.”
She settled both feet on the floor, still too dizzy to stand.
Gabriel rose and went to the double doors, drawing them together but not closing them. He left an opening about six inches wide, and then he came back to her.
“When I saw you in those boots it gave me an idea for an ad,” he said.
