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“Yes, of course. That will give us a start.” Meredith picked up a dark-blue velvet bag that was sitting in front of her on the table and hurriedly opened it.
“Let’s see, what do we have here—” she murmured. She withdrew the various items one by one and laid them out on the velvet cushion. As she moved into her working mode, Meredith felt herself relax a bit. It was easier for her to deal with clients once she had something tangible to focus on and could begin the design process.
She picked up the first piece, a 14K yellow-gold stickpin with an engraved shaft, topped by a square-cut emerald of about one-third a carat in size. The stone was held in a crown-shaped setting, which Meredith didn’t care for at all.
“What do you think?” he asked.
She glanced up at him, unsure of whether or not to be frank. She didn’t want to insult his taste. On the other hand he had requested her opinion.
“Honestly?” she asked.
“Of course.” He sat back in his chair.
“I like the detail on the shaft,” she said, turning the piece under the magnifying lens for him to see. “But I don’t care much for the setting. It’s very ordinary. And a bit…gaudy.”
“My feeling exactly.” He nodded in perfect agreement, then waited for her to continue, giving her his complete and utmost attention.
Meredith felt better. She had a strong feeling that Adam Richards had good taste. Similar taste to her own, in fact, which would make things a lot easier.
“Most people would wear a small piece like this as an accent to other jewelry,” she continued. “A simple, sleeker setting would display the stone more dramatically. And also, be less likely to clash with other items.”
She turned the pin over again in her hand, then took it out from under the magnifying glass, set it on the velvet display cushion and looked at it for a few moments.
“Wait…I have an idea.” She quickly rose from her seat. “Let’s see what you think of this….”
She walked to a polished wood cabinet, withdrew a ring of keys from under her smock and opened the brass lock. She opened the doors to reveal three rows of narrow drawers, like the drawers one might find in an old-fashioned hardware store. Only these drawers held precious stones of various sizes and hues, not screws and washers.
It took her only a few moments to find what she was looking for, and she withdrew several small plastic bags that held gemstones and brought them to the table.
“I want to show you these stones,” Meredith said, feeling excited at her inspiration. “They’re called cabochons. Perhaps you’ve seen them before?”
“No…I haven’t,” Adam replied as he watched her shake out the gems onto the velvet pillow.
“These are uncut gems, polished with an opaque look. I’ve picked out some sapphires. But all types of colored gems are available as cabochons. Rubies, emeralds, amethyst. Here, take a look,” she said, swinging the magnifying lens in his direction.
He peered down at the gems, studying them…and she took a moment to study him. His hair was dark and thick, with a slight wave. Cut conservatively short, he combed it back and to one side, though a thick lock occasionally fell down across his forehead. With the bright light nearby, she noticed how his dark mane was shot through with strands of silver. His face looked intense as he examined the stones, his thick brows drawn together over lean cheeks and square jaw. His chin held a small dimple, that seemed just right. A perfect balance to his long, straight nose.
He was handsome, she thought. Extremely handsome. Though not in the typical way at all. More of a rough-around-the-edges, self-made man way, she silently noted with a small smile at her own private joke. She wondered vaguely why Jayne hadn’t warned her about his looks. But then again, Jayne knew very well that any mention of such a thing would have rattled Meredith totally, and made her find some excuse to avoid the meeting altogether.
Adam suddenly looked up. He caught her looking at him, and she felt self-conscious, as if, gazing into her eyes, he had read her thoughts. A slow, knowing smile formed on his supple lips. She felt herself blush and looked back down at the gemstones.
“So…what do you think?” She tried her best to sound casual and professional, but her voice sounded forced and breathless. Just to give herself something to do, she removed her glasses and wiped the lenses on the edge of her smock. It was a nervous habit she had and one she wasn’t even conscious of performing.
That is, not until she noticed a strange expression on Adam Richard’s face as he stared at her across the narrow table.
“Beautiful,” he replied, his tone mindful, appreciative and even surprised. “Absolutely. Very subtle and natural. Very…unconventional.”
His quiet words and intense gaze were totally unnerving. Meredith was annoyed with herself and couldn’t understand her reaction. It was almost as if, at that moment, he wasn’t talking about the gems at all…but describing her.
But that was ridiculous. Utterly…insane. She shoved her glasses back on and turned her attention back to the jewelry.
“Uh…good. I’m glad you like them. Let’s try one with the pin.” She pulled open the small drawer on her side of the table and removed some tools and a vial of setting-glue solvent.
Moments later she’d removed the emerald from the stickpin setting and replaced it with a small sapphire cabochon.
She held it out for Adam’s inspection. “What do you think?”
“That’s lovely. Perfect,” he exclaimed in his quiet, thoughtful way. “May I see it under the lens?”
Then, without waiting for Meredith to hand him the stickpin, he reached out, cupped her hand in his own and moved it beneath the magnifier. His touch felt gentle but firm. She felt as if a sudden shock of electricity coursed up her arm, spreading swiftly through every inch of her body. But Meredith willed herself to remain stone still, not moving a muscle. Barely breathing.
“Yes, it’s just right. The sapphire is a good choice, too,” he commented, still holding her hand and staring down at the pin. “Though I think I’d like to see others made up with a ruby and an emerald, just to compare. Once we’ve agreed on the new setting design.”
He took his hand away and Meredith placed the stickpin on the velvet mat. Looking down, she flipped open her notebook, taking a moment to gather her scattered thoughts.
“Yes, of course. A ruby and emerald,” she said aloud as she jotted the note in her book. “Here’s a rough idea of a new setting design,” she added. With a few deft strokes of her pencil she sketched a new design for the pin—a smooth, organic-looking shape with a setting that would wrap around the stone, like green petals of a bud about to unfold.
Adam sat quietly, watching her draw. As she shifted the pad for him to view the sketch, he bent his dark head toward her. The expression on his face told her that he was impressed by her artistic ability. It surprised her somehow. She didn’t think a man who had spent his life in such a corporate, commercial atmosphere would recognize or value artistic talent.
Adam Richards certainly wasn’t what she had expected. Not at all.
“This is excellent, Meredith.” He looked up and met her gaze. “It’s just the type of thing I was hoping to find…but couldn’t quite put into words,” he added with an attractive, appreciative smile that set Meredith’s nerve endings tingling. “Could you make a sample for me to see?”
“Of course,” she said agreeably.
She was suddenly highly aware of their close proximity, his face just inches from her own as they both remained leaning over the sketch. She blinked and quickly sat bolt upright.
“I could have that ready for you tomorrow afternoon,” she said. She swallowed hard and pushed her glasses up higher on her nose.
“That quickly? That’s great. Let me check my schedule for tomorrow and see if I’m free…” He withdrew a small black book from the pocket in his suit jacket and flipped it open.
“You don’t need to come back here. I mean, I know how busy you must be. We’d be happy to send the piece to your office by messenger,” Meredith explained. “Then you can call and let me know what you think.”
Was she stuttering? The idea of enduring another one-on-one interview with Adam Richards had her nerves in an uproar all over again. She took a deep breath, hoping he’d agree to her suggestion.
“It’s no problem. This time of year is relatively slow for me,” he replied lightly, and she had a sinking feeling in her stomach. “Besides, there’s more than the stickpin to figure out,” he reminded her. “And I’m due back at the office in a few minutes.” He glanced briefly at his watch. “Shall we figure out some meeting time for tomorrow?”
“Yes, of course,” Meredith replied numbly. She looked down at the table, her lips twisting in a resigned expression. She’d make up the stickpin for him. That would be fun. But as for working with him further…the very thought totally unhinged her. And she didn’t want to figure out why.
“What about lunch?” he asked.
Her head snapped up. “Lunch?”
He laughed. “You know, that meal between breakfast and dinner? Don’t you eat lunch…or are you one of those women who are forever starving themselves?”
“I’m never on a diet,” Meredith replied honestly.
There were times in her life—particularly her adolescence—when Meredith bemoaned her figure. But with the passing years any excess weight had simply melted off her long-limbed frame. Although in her mind she still carried the poor body image of her childhood, in actuality she was slim and fit, practically model-like in proportions. She did nothing extra to stay in shape, getting most of her exercise with long walks or a jog through the park with her Labrador retriever, Lucy. The heavy work required for her metal sculptures also kept her muscles hard. She didn’t like most sports, and working out in a gym, in front of all of those mirrors, not to mention the other members, was her idea of damnation. As for dieting, she wasn’t a junk-food junky, but loved to eat and rarely deprived herself.
“Never on a diet, eh? How refreshing,” Adam replied brightly. “So I can take you someplace tomorrow where they serve real food, instead of rabbit feed?” he persisted. “I know just the place. How about Crystal’s?”
Crystal’s? That was the most exclusive restaurant in Youngsville, Indiana. She’d never been there, but had heard one needed to wait a month for a reservation. Of course, not if you were a regular, as Adam Richards no doubt was.
“I’ve heard it’s lovely. Thanks for the invitation…but I don’t think I can have lunch with you,” Meredith stammered. She rose from her seat and hurriedly gathered her pad and coffee.
“Oh, why not? I think we can get a lot done over lunch,” Adam persisted. He rose, as well, and stood in front of her, blocking her escape route from the small room. He stood so close that when she looked up to answer him, she had to tilt her head back.
“Yes, I’m sure we’d get work done,” she said diplomatically, remembering that he was, after all, an important client. “But I believe I’ll be in a meeting that will be going on all afternoon.”
That was a lie. There was no meeting. But she didn’t know what else to say.
“How about Wednesday, then? Do you have a meeting on Wednesday?” he asked. His voice was soft, with a faint note of amusement, she thought. He had guessed she was lying to him. Still, she couldn’t understand why he was so insistent about taking her out to lunch.
“I…I have to check. I’m not sure.” Meredith hugged her sketchbook to her chest and decided to charge for the door. “I’ll call your office and let you know.”
“All right.” He nodded and smiled slightly, trying to suppress a huge grin, she guessed. He was laughing at her. Finding it terribly amusing that a woman would be so flustered by a simple invitation to lunch. She felt silly…but couldn’t help it.
She looked down, avoiding his gaze as she moved toward the doorway. She just wanted to leave, to get away from him and be alone. But then she did something even more stupid. In her rush to flee she spilled coffee on herself. She felt the warm liquid seep through her smock and sweater. She looked down and saw what had happened.
“Oh…darn,” she muttered aloud. She dropped her pad to the floor and placed the leaky cup on the table. With her arms sticking out on either side, she looked down to survey the damage. Her gray smock was dripping with coffee, a huge stain spreading on one side. She couldn’t bear to see what had happened to her pale sweater and skirt.
“Here, let me get that for you,” Adam said as he quickly bent to retrieve her pad. “I’m so sorry…did I bump into you or something?” he asked with genuine concern.
“No…not at all. I manage to create these little disasters all on my own,” Meredith explained. She still stood with her arms at her side, coffee now dripping from her smock to the floor.
“But I was standing in your way. You couldn’t get by,” he said, making an excuse for her. “Can I help you get that off?” Adam asked politely.
“Uh, no…I can manage, thanks.”
The moment of truth had arrived. She had to take the smock off, it was dripping on her shoes.
She carefully undid the snaps, then slipped it off her shoulders and rolled it in a ball to contain the wet spot. Her sweater, still damp from her soaking in the rain, clung to her like a second skin. It now had an ugly brown stain covering a large portion of the pale fabric. A hopeless kind of stain that would probably never come out, she guessed.
“Oh, well. Guess I need to go find another smock,” she said, trying to sound offhand about the fumble.
She looked up at Adam and saw a strange light in his eyes. A totally masculine glow that scared her to death. He hadn’t been staring at the coffee stain all this time…but studying her figure. She was sure of it. She was just as sure that he’d never expected that beneath her baggy gray camouflage there was anything worth looking at.
She thought she had long ago outgrown self-consciousness about her hourglass proportions. At that moment, however, it didn’t seem so. At least he didn’t ogle her, but quickly looked away, his expression once again returning to a friendly smile.
“Well…here’s your pad.” Now it was his turn to seem self-conscious and momentarily off balance as he handed her the sketchpad. “And take my card,” he added, handing her a business card. “On second thought, I’ll have my secretary call you later to set up another appointment.”
“That sounds fine,” Meredith said, backing toward the door. She held the sketchpad to her chest, though it offered little coverage. His secretary. Good. She wouldn’t have to make excuses to him. It would be even easier that way.
“Well, so long, Meredith. Thanks for your help,” he said as she left the room. “I look forward to seeing the stickpin.”
“I’ll have it made up for you soon, Mr. Richards…. And, you’re very welcome,” she added, remembering her manners. She also remembered that she was supposed to call him by his first name. But she didn’t want to. She needed to put some distance between them now, to put things back on a more businesslike level. She had finally reached the door and quickly turned and opened it.
“Goodbye, now,” she called over her shoulder as she left him.
“Goodbye, Meredith,” he returned. “See you soon.”
His soft, deep voice did not sound businesslike, or impersonal at all, she noticed as she raced away toward the elevator.
Two
Feeling totally rattled, Meredith hurried down the hall to her office, grabbed a clean smock from the closet and gathered up the sketches that were still spread across her drawing table. It was five to eleven and she had no time to review the drawings any further. At least she wouldn’t be late for the meeting, she thought as she dashed out of her office and headed for the large conference room at the end of the corridor.
Despite her unsettling interview with Adam Richards, Meredith managed to collect herself enough to give her presentation. As she took her seat, she could not recall a word she had said. It had all gone by in a nervous blur. Her friends, Sylvie and Lila, who both worked in the marketing department, were present and kept shooting Meredith encouraging smiles. She was sure they’d each drop by her office later to review her performance.
Judging from the reactions of the rest of her colleagues—especially the pleased expression on her supervisor’s face—Meredith knew she must have done well. Even the crankiest sales manager seemed excited by the new line. Meredith listened to the comments and noted the various suggestions made, all the while quietly swelling with pride.
Buoyed by her success, she returned to her office and ate lunch at her desk as she worked through the afternoon. The embarrassing moment with Adam Richards didn’t seem nearly as awful now. Meredith could practically laugh at herself…if it wasn’t for the ruined sweater.
Meredith had just finished her lunch when Lila called. Lila said she thought Meredith had done a terrific job at the meeting and that she absolutely loved the new designs.
“Nick was very impressed,” she added, mentioning her boss, who was the Vice President of Overseas Marketing and also happened to be Lila’s fiancé. “I hope the company puts them into production soon,” she added. “I’d love to have a set of the bands in time for our wedding.”
Lila and Nick hadn’t set a wedding date yet, but Meredith knew that they were so crazy about each other, it was going to be a very short engagement.
“Don’t worry, Lila. I can always make a set for you,” Meredith promised, “even if the company decides not to use the collection.”
Or, if Marcus Grey succeeds in buying out Colette and shutting us down, she nearly added. But she didn’t want to voice the gloomy possibilities, especially on such an upbeat day.
After she finished her call with Lila, Meredith realized that she’d never received a call from Adam’s secretary. She was surprised. He’d seemed so adamant about pinning her down for another appointment. His business card sat on her drawing table, tucked under a clip. She glanced at it but didn’t even dare think of calling his office. Perhaps he was the type of guy who seemed all excited at the moment about something…then, minutes later, was on to something else.
Oh, well, so much the better. Maybe he’d forget all about his custom-designed trinkets and decide to give out monogrammed umbrellas or tote bags. Maybe she’d never hear from him again.
The idea should have been heartening, but somehow didn’t sit well with her. Then Meredith’s musings were interrupted by a knock on her partially opened door.
Meredith turned in her seat to see Sylvie in the doorway. Sylvie usually visited her at work at least once a day, to chat and catch up. They also saw each other at home, since Sylvie was Meredith’s neighbor.
After they met, they realized they had many things in common. Though they both had a tendency to be loners, over recent months they’d become close friends. Like Meredith, Sylvie rarely dated and also looked back on her upbringing with mixed emotions. But, Meredith often reflected, unlike Sylvie, at least she’d been raised by two parents who loved her. Even if they didn’t love each other. Orphaned as an infant, Sylvie had no family and had been raised in foster homes. She’d left the system when she was eighteen and eventually came to work for Colette, Inc., where she was presently the assistant director of marketing. While such a childhood would have made many people bitter, Sylvie was just the opposite. Her bright, warm, upbeat personality easily won her friends and cheered everyone who knew her. She looked upon the company as her family, and it seemed that her co-workers loved her in the same way.
Everybody loved Sylvie…and loved to confide in her. Sylvie just had a way of finding out the juiciest company gossip. As Sylvie took a seat, Meredith was sure her friend had come to deliver the news about the takeover.
“You really wowed them this morning. Marianne already called a meeting about the ad campaign,” Sylvie reported, mentioning one of the marketing managers. “A full-page ad in a leading bridal magazine, for starters.”
Meredith usually met such news calmly, but even she was excited to hear that her designs were so successful. “Really? I didn’t even start the samples yet,” she mused aloud.
“Sounds like you’d better. What are you working on now?”
Sylvie peered over Meredith’s shoulder at the stickpin Meredith had designed for Adam Richards. Meredith had worked on it most of the afternoon and it was almost done. She felt the urge to confide totally in Sylvie about her meeting with the handsome, seemingly single, self-made millionaire, but suddenly stopped herself. She didn’t want to talk about him. Not even to Sylvie. She felt a giant lump in her throat even thinking about him. She was acting like a teenager.
She pushed the stickpin aside and turned back to her friend. “It’s nothing. Just a sample I need to put together for a client. Any news about the takeover?” she asked, hoping to change the subject.
“No really big news.” Sylvie shrugged and pushed back a lock of her shiny black hair. Meredith had often noticed her friend’s beautiful hair, a perfect match to Sylvie’s warm-brown eyes. “I think Grey has picked up a few more shares of stock, but he still has a way to go before he holds fifty-one percent.” Sylvie’s eyes darkened as she spoke about the company’s adversary and Meredith could practically feel her friend’s righteous indignation. “The word is that once he gains control of the company, he plans to destroy it. He just wants to see Colette wiped out. Nobody really knows why. Somebody has to stop that guy.”
“Yes, of course,” Meredith agreed with a sigh. “But who? It would have to be someone with an awful lot of money…or someone who could cause Grey to have a change of heart.”
