The Bachelorette

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“If the man even has a heart,” Sylvie said. “I just hate to see morale get so low around here. We can’t just give up. That’s what he wants. We really have to pick up our skirts and plow on.”

Sylvie’s folksy, upbeat expression made Meredith laugh.

“Which for some odd reason reminds me, Meredith…you never gave me a firm answer about the auction. You’ll do it, won’t you? First I lost Jayne, and then Lila,” she said, mentioning their mutual friends who had both recently become married and engaged. There’s a real shortage of gorgeous single females this year and we really need you,” Sylvie pleaded.

For many years Colette, Inc., had sponsored a bachelorette auction, with all proceeds going to a local orphanage. The same orphanage in fact where Sylvie had lived for many years, so of course the cause was close to her heart and she always took on a large role in the planning. The annual black tie event was very upscale and would be held this year in the ballroom of the city’s fanciest hotel, the Fairfield Plaza. The guest list included the most prominent social figures in the city. Meredith always bought a ticket to contribute to the cause. But had never attended. She really disliked large, formal events.

This year, however, not only were her friends pressing her to attend, but they wanted her to step up on the auction block. The very idea made Meredith want to run to the nearest airport and book a one-way ticket to Brazil.

Of course she couldn’t do that.

But neither could she dress up in an evening gown, step up on a stage and display herself as strange men made bids to “buy her” for the night. She’d rather be boiled in oil. She’d rather be tarred and feathered. She’d rather be asked to shimmy up a greasy flagpole with a rose in her teeth. She’d rather—

“You’re going to do it, right?” Sylvie asked point-blank, interrupting Meredith’s thoughts. “I can come over tonight to help you with your outfit. Jayne and Lila said they’d come, too. I’ll bring dinner. How about Chinese?”

“Well…tonight’s not so good, actually,” Meredith fibbed. She tried to meet her friend’s steady gaze but couldn’t.

“Meredith…I know that look in your eye,” Sylvie said, calling her out. “You’ve got to do it. I won’t take no for an answer. We’ve got to pull together around here. The auction is a chance to show Marcus Grey that we’re carrying on, business as usual. We’re not rolling over and giving in to him.”

While Meredith had to agree with Sylvie’s point, she still didn’t feel entirely persuaded that if she paraded around a stage in a tight gown and heels—wiggling her extremities for the highest bidder—the effort would do much to thwart the heartless corporate raider.

“Meredith, please. You know how much this means to me. It’s just got to be a good auction this year. The absolute best. We have to show that man what we’re made of,” her friend insisted. “I know how shy you are and I know this is hard for you. Really, I do. But it might be a good thing for you, too. I mean, you’re absolutely gorgeous…but nobody but me and a few other select people even have a chance to realize it. I want everybody in this company to know what a babe you are. They’ll be talking about that for months,” Sylvie added in a teasing tone. “Won’t you help…please?”

Meredith wanted to refuse her…but she couldn’t let her friend down. This event was important to Sylvie, and to the entire corporate image. If the charity event went off successfully, as it usually did, it would show a strong united front to Marcus Grey.

And something else in Sylvie’s words had rung true. Maybe it was time she stopped hiding like a scared little mouse in a hole, Meredith realized. Maybe forcing herself to get out on that stage would be good for her. If she had a few more ounces of self confidence, maybe she wouldn’t act so flustered by a man’s mere invitation to lunch. As she had with Adam Richards.

“Okay, you’ve got me. I’ll do it,” Meredith finally agreed.

“Fantastic!” Sylvie leaned over and enveloped her in a huge hug. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down. Do you have anything at home you can wear?”

“How about that gray silk dress I wore for the Christmas party?” Meredith asked.

Sylvie’s lovely brow crinkled in a frown. “I’m not sure I remember…. Oh, yes. The gray silk. It had long sleeves and a sort of high, cowl neck?”

Meredith nodded. Sylvie smiled and shook her head. “Don’t worry, I’ll bring over a few things. We’ll come up with something great,” Sylvie promised.

Meredith was worried. She knew that her idea of “great” and Sylvie’s were probably a fashion galaxy apart. But she tamped down her fears and put on a brave smile.

“Chinese sounds good. And don’t forget an extra dumpling for Lucy,” she added, remembering her dog’s favorite treat. “And don’t worry, Sylvie. I won’t you let you down.”

“I know that,” Sylvie assured her, and Meredith knew she was telling the truth. Although Meredith didn’t make friends easily, her connections were deeply felt. True to her word and loyal to a fault, she’d go the limit to help a friend in need and never went back on her promises.

“Don’t worry, this will be fun,” Sylvie promised as she rose from her seat. “Oh, I almost forgot…” Sylvie stared down at the package she’d been holding, a medium-size box wrapped in brown paper. “The receptionist asked me to give you this,” Sylvie explained. “It was delivered a little while ago.”

She glanced at the label as she handed Meredith the box. “Hmm, it’s from Chasan’s,” she noted, naming one of the most expensive clothing stores in town. “I thought you did your shopping at the outlet mall, Meredith. Did you go out on a spree without telling me?”

“I’ve never been to Chasan’s. There must be some mistake.” Meredith examined the package and saw her name printed on the label.

Clearly too curious to leave, Sylvie stood by as Meredith tore off the paper and found the trademark, dark-blue gift box tied with a thick gold ribbon. She untied the ribbon and opened the box. Under a layer of gold tissue paper, she found a beautiful pale-pink sweater set, much like the one she had on. However, with one touch, she could tell it was of a far finer quality…and far more expensive than her own.

Meredith took the sweater set out of the paper and Sylvie gasped, “God…that’s gorgeous. Who is it from? Is it your birthday or something?”

“My birthday’s in June. You know that,” Meredith replied, without glancing at her friend. She took a deep breath before reading the gift card she found inside. She already guessed who had sent the gift, but could hardly believe it.

Meredith,

Are you sure I didn’t bump into you this morning? You insisted that I didn’t, but I still feel responsible somehow for ruining your lovely sweater. Please accept this gift with my appreciation for your help today—and my hope that I’ll see you again soon.

Adam

Meredith felt a bit shocked as she placed the card back in the box and closed the lid. It appeared he had picked the sweater set out and bought it himself. Had he really gone to so much trouble for her?

“Who’s Adam?” Sylvie asked, and Meredith realized her friend had read the card over her shoulder.

“It’s a long story, Sylvie,” Meredith replied.

“Judging from that blush on your face, I’ll bet it’s a good one.” Sylvie laughed, her lovely face alight with interest. “You’d better tell all tonight, dear,” she warned, “or no fried dumplings.”

“In that case, I guess I have to,” Meredith replied with a grin. “But there’s nothing to tell, honestly. He’s just a client, and I’m doing some special designs for him.”

“Right, you meet some client this morning and he sends you a hand-delivered gift from Chasan’s. But there’s nothing to tell.” Sylvie smiled knowingly and gently patted her friend’s shoulder. “Meredith, we need to talk.”

“Don’t you have enough torture planned for tonight? You don’t need to give me a lecture about men, too, Sylvie,” she warned in a good-natured tone.

“Me? Give you advice about men? Don’t be silly. I’m leaving that job to Lila and Jayne. After all, Jayne’s married and Lila’s engaged. They both should know something about the species.” With a quick wave Sylvie suddenly disappeared through the doorway.

Left alone with her surprise package, Meredith stared down at the box, which sat squarely in her lap. She opened the lid, looked at the sweater set again—now noticing the label of an exclusive European designer—then she looked at the card. She liked his handwriting. It was neat and crisp, with thick, blocky letters. Straightforward as the man himself, she thought.

Oh, dear. She was sinking into some type of warm, romantic mire, like a big steamy bubble bath. Inch by inch, minute by minute. Even though she’d forced Adam Richards’s image out of her mind today, she still felt her attraction to him gaining a hold on her.

But she simply wouldn’t allow such a thing to happen.

She just could not allow it.

Meredith stood and stuck the box in her office closet. She would return the gift to him with a polite, but curt note. She’d complete the sample stickpin, as she had promised, but she would make Frank assign a new designer to the project. She would not permit herself to see Adam Richards again. Certainly not alone. Absolutely not for anything as social as a “fake” business lunch date.

She wasn’t as naive about men as her friend Sylvie suspected. She knew what this ride was all about, the uphill climb of the roller coaster car was totally exhilarating—the thrill of a lifetime. It was the downhill slide, and the unavoidable crash, that she feared. Feared with all her heart. Or what was left of it.

Meredith had felt this strongly this quickly about a man only once before. Years ago, in college. Jake was superficially very different from Adam, but in many respects they were much alike, she realized. An established artist, Jake was a visiting professor at her college for a year, and students clamored for the chance to study with him. Jake chose only students he felt were the most promising, and Meredith was thrilled to win a place in his sculpture studio during her senior year. She’d expected to learn a lot about art—not about love. But from the very first moment he spoke to her, other than to critique her work, she felt as if she’d been struck by lightning. She kept her crush a secret from even her closest friends for weeks, never once dreaming her feelings could be returned. But miraculously they were, and she soon entered into a torrid affair with him, agreeing to secrecy in order to keep Jake out of trouble with the school authorities. It was certainly against the school’s policy for professors to seduce their students.

He was older, more mature and experienced. A man with status, who could have just about any woman he wanted. He’d swept her off her feet, and the force of his desire had been heady, intoxicating, too much to resist. But the romance—Meredith’s first—had ended badly. Very badly. Meredith was so heartbroken at one point, she didn’t get out of bed for weeks. Feeling empty and lost, so worthless and humiliated by Jake’s rejection, all she did was cry.

While logically she knew that all men weren’t as selfish and heartless as Jake Stark, she simply couldn’t risk it. She believed that while other women had some special sense of sniffing out the nice guys from the phonies, she had none. She didn’t trust her judgment about men as far as she could toss her living room sofa, and felt far safer not taking any risks.

It took her years to gain her confidence back after Jake, and Meredith knew that in some ways she’d never really recovered. But she finally felt in control of her life and her emotions—happy and productive and standing on steady ground again. Maybe her life wasn’t perfect. Maybe she was lonely at times and wished that she had someone close to share her ups and downs. Someone to love wholeheartedly, who loved her in return.

But the risk of failing at that game was too great. The price for losing too high. When she felt blue and needed a lift, she turned to her work at Colette and her sculptures. She turned to her friends, like Sylvie, Jayne, Lila or Rose Carson, her landlady. Or even to her dog, Lucy, who always had a way of bringing a smile to Meredith’s gloomiest hours.

The thought of Lucy made Meredith glance at the clock. It was past five, and Lucy was waiting for her walk. Meredith got her work in order, collected her belongings and left her office. She, too, looked forward to the nightly stroll. It gave her a chance to unwind and renew. As she left the office building, she said goodnight to a few friends. Outside, a cool breeze greeted her. The morning’s wet weather had cleared and except for some lingering traces of snow on the ground from last month’s freak snowstorm, the November evening was dry and the darkening sky, cloudless.

After a short bus ride to her neighborhood, Meredith got off at the Ingalls Park stop and walked across the park to Amber Court. Her apartment building, 20 Amber Court, was a large limestone building, built at the turn of the century. It had once been a private mansion, but was converted into four levels of apartments at some point in the seventies. Meredith loved old houses and had even studied a bit about Victorian architecture. She’d fallen in love with the old building at first sight, and the owner, Rose Carson, who lived on the first floor, had been so warm and welcoming that Meredith had felt right at home from the very first day she’d moved in.

She let herself into the front door and then picked up her mail in the large marble foyer—a magazine, some bills, some junk mail and a letter from her mother.

The sight of her mother’s handwriting filled Meredith with mixed emotions. The return address was Malibu Beach in California, where her mother had moved after her parents’ divorce, many years ago. Meredith guessed that her mother was writing to invite Meredith to visit for Thanksgiving. The envelope was so thick it might even contain another plane ticket, she speculated. But Meredith didn’t want to fly out to the West Coast for the holiday. She would have to make some excuse, of course. She didn’t want to think about that problem now, and shoved the letter, along with the rest of the envelopes, into the magazine.

Her apartment was on the third floor. As it was situated at the front of the building, many of the windows afforded a breathtaking view of Ingalls Park. Though the building had a small elevator that had been installed during the renovation, Meredith usually preferred to take the stairs.

Once at her front door, she heard Lucy on the other side, sniffing and whining as Meredith unlocked the door. Meredith had adopted the golden-colored Labrador retriever from a shelter several years ago, and Lucy knew better by now than to jump up. But still, every time Meredith came home, Lucy acted like a puppy and could barely contain her excitement. She ran toward Meredith, carrying a chewed-up tennis ball in her mouth, her tail beating a mile a minute against Meredith’s legs. Finally she dropped the ball at Meredith’s feet, then licked any part of her owner she could get close to.

“Oh, hello, Lucy. Hello sweetheart,” Meredith bent to greet her four-legged pal, patting her soft head and rubbing her chest.

“Thank you for the ball, Lucy,” she crooned, as if the gooey tennis ball was a true treasure. “Gee, everyone’s giving me presents today.”

Lucy sat as still as she could manage in her excited state, content to have the thick, soft fur on her chest rubbed. She leaned forward and covered Meredith’s cheek with a sloppy lick.

Meredith laughed and ruffled Lucy’s silky ears. “You’re such a sweetheart. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she said and knew it was true.

Meredith stood up and smoothed out her clothes. “Go get your leash,” she told Lucy. “Let’s go out.”

The dog jumped up and darted away, reappearing seconds letter with her thick blue leash in her mouth. Meredith patted her head and clipped on the leash, then allowed Lucy to drag her out of the door and down the stairs as they headed for the park.

The weather was so wonderful that Meredith gave the dog an extra-long walk. She returned home feeling tired but invigorated, as if the cool breeze tossing the treetops in Ingalls Park had somehow blown loose the cobwebs in her mind.

She had just enough time to feed Lucy, then shower and change into comfortable clothes before Sylvie, Lila and Jayne arrived. Her friends bustled in, one carrying a paper bag of Chinese food that emitted warm, appetizing aromas, and the other an armload of evening clothes.

“Here we are,” Lila said.

“Right on time,” Sylvie added.

Meredith gritted her teeth and grinned. “May the condemned woman at least eat one last meal in peace?”

“Sorry, you’ll have to eat while we work on the hair and makeup,” Jayne said, glancing at her watch. “I need to get home by nine for Erik.”

“These newlyweds,” Sylvie rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t dare ask why.”

“Don’t be silly. He needs some help with his computer,” Jayne replied curtly.

“Right,” Sylvie said.

Meredith saw Jayne blush scarlet but she made no teasing comment to second Sylvie’s. If she were married to Erik, she’d want to get home early, too. Jayne had gone through so much in her life and it was great to know she’d finally found real happiness. Orphaned at age eighteen, she’d given up her own chance to go to college and bravely raised her siblings, who were four years younger. Her younger sister and brother, who were twins, were now away at college. Jayne missed them terribly, but also appreciated the time alone with her new husband.

Lila tried to hide her smile as she turned to open a small overnight case filled with beauty supplies.

“So, are you ready?” Lila asked. She turned to Meredith, brandishing her weapon of choice, a huge, fluffy makeup brush.

“Right,” Sylvie said. “So, are you ready?” Sylvie asked turning to Meredith.

“As ready as I’ll ever be. Let the games begin….” Meredith said.

Meredith had balked at first at all their fussing, then sat back and allowed herself to enjoy it. Having her friends make her over, from head to toe as shown in the fashion magazines, reminded her of her college days—the best memories of her college days.

She had been a social disaster in high school. A straight-A student and a total bookworm with a few close friends who were equally “geeky.”

Her father—a high-powered corporate attorney—was hardly home. When he was, he rarely had time for her. His affection and approval seemed to come in limited doses.

Her mother, a former actress who prided herself on a glamorous image, had tried time and again to make improvements on Meredith’s appearance. “You have assets, dear,” her mother would assure her. “We just need to bring them out more.” Meredith secretly did not see her assets and thought her mother was just trying to be nice. She believed that no amount of new clothes or haircuts would ever make her small-boned and blond like her mother. But trying hard to please her mother—to win the love and approval she’d never truly felt as a child—Meredith wore the fashions or hairstyles her mother advised, feeling silly and uncomfortable most of the time. She squinted and blinked as she forced herself to wear contact lenses. In time she’d finally given up and reverted to her baggy, dull clothes, her dowdy hair-dos and thick lenses. Her mother would rail and moan about the wasted effort, the wasted money—and even call her only child a lost cause. Meredith would burrow even deeper into her shell, hiding her tears behind a favorite novel.

But in college, far from home, Meredith found friends who shared her interests and views, who made her feel valued and appreciated just as she was. She began to develop her own style—a style of dressing and acting that was far different from her conventional, status-conscious parents. Meredith had always known she was different—but for the first time in her life, she began to see that difference as her true asset. An asset she tried to make shine through.

There were some wonderful years in college, and Meredith gained self-confidence and feelings of self-worth. Even her parents noticed the difference when she came home for holiday visits. “A late bloomer,” her mother pronounced, and though Meredith could tell she hadn’t at all bloomed into the exotic flower her mother had hoped for, Carolyn Blair was nonetheless impressed.

Of course, falling in love with Jake had made her positively glow. There was no lotion or cosmetic in the world that could improve a woman’s looks as much as falling in love.

But all that ended just at the time she graduated college. That was when Jake abruptly returned to New York, leaving her a cool, terse note, despite the fact he had promised more than once to take her with him and introduce her to his well-known circle. Why had he treated her so badly? Meredith knew she’d never fully understand it. All she knew was that, along with losing Jake, she’d lost her special glow. She’d returned home to Chicago defeated and depressed, and reverted to her old dowdy ways of dressing, as if to avoid male attention all together.