скачать книгу бесплатно
Nice. He restrained the urge to laugh. Especially since it really wasn’t all that funny.
Lauren tore her eyes from the ring. “What will I say if someone asks when we’re getting married?”
He cricked his neck from side to side, working out the stress already knotting its way up and it wasn’t even seven o’clock yet. “Tell them your mother is planning the wedding. Tell them we’re looking for a date that fits in with our work schedules. Tell them we’re thinking about bolting to Vegas and will keep them posted.”
She scooped up the box and held the ring so it reflected the morning light streaming through the stained-glass window. “You’re really, really good at lying.”
Lying? He prided himself on being a man who stuck to the truth, even if he did his best to make that truth something others would buy into. “I’m just an ad man spinning the product.”
She stayed silent, but her eyes said loud and clear she thought he was lying to himself.
Steam from the shower still coating the air, Lauren tucked the towel more snugly around her body and raced to the telephone. God, she felt like a teenager rushing to catch a call from a guy.
Gasping, she snatched up her cell phone from the bedside table, her wet hair a dripping rope over her shoulder. “Hello?”
Her mother’s voice popped through the airwaves, loud, high-pitched and frantic. “Lauren, I got a call from the lawyer for Aunt Eliza’s estate today.”
Lauren dropped to the edge of the bed, her stomach knotting as she mentally kicked herself for not checking caller ID. “Why is he speaking with you, instead of phoning me directly?”
Could something actually be wrong? The money from Aunt Eliza’s estate had already been transferred to her—and stolen by the crooked accountant.
“He said he’s looking for you and can’t find you. Where are you?”
“I’m on a business trip, but I have my cell phone and am checking e-mail. I’ll give him a call. Thank you for the heads-up,” she said quickly, hoping to end the conversation.
“Dear, he says you’re having financial troubles.”
Lauren measured her words carefully. Her parents had plenty of money and didn’t hesitate to share it with her, which was generous. Except that money came with big strings attached. And quite frankly, she didn’t want to be a trust-fund kid, living her entire life off Mom and Dad’s hard work, never accomplishing anything on her own. “Things are tight at work, but I’m settling that out.”
“Tight? Most businesses fail in their first year, you know, dear.” Her mom’s jeweled glasses chain clicked in the background as she fidgeted.
“Yes, Mother. I know the statistics.” And she prayed her business wouldn’t add to the failed numbers on that list. “Thank you for passing along the message.”
Jacqueline pressed ahead. “You know, I’m going to call my accountant to talk to you. Make sure to keep your cell phone with you.”
“Thank you, Mom, but I can handle it.” And she would. She hugged her towel closer, shivering.
“You’ve never been good with money, dear.”
Staying silent, she bit her lip. Hard. The barb dug deeper than her teeth.
Her mother continued. “Remember when you blew your entire savings on that watch?”
“Mom—” the words bubbled up in spite of the fact she knew better than to argue with her mom on a rant “—I was in the third grade. My savings fit in a piggy bank.”
Her mother’s voice cracked on the start of a sob. “Of course. What do I know? I only care about you.” Jacqueline gasped again and again between words, her voice bobbling. “There’s no need to attack me. You’re just like your father, always picking, picking, picking at everything I do.”
“Mom, I’m sorry—”
“Yes, well, at least I have somewhere to go to relieve the stress. Did I tell you about my new vacation home?”
Lauren closed her eyes. Already weary and it wasn’t even lunchtime. Her mother’s mood swings were nothing new, but exhausting all the same. She just listened and hmmmed when her mother shared the details of the latest perfect place to get away to.
Which actually meant a new place to start over, since she’d alienated the people in her old vacation community. Lauren had seen it play out time and time again. While she half listened to her mother, she stared at the little velvet box.
Jason had been so calmly helpful in dealing with her mother. He’d helped her with her business troubles and her mother. He was certainly trying to understand what she needed, as well, even down to small details like the flowers in her office and the toast for the morning.
His reasons for becoming engaged might feel calculated, but what did she really have to lose by simply wearing his ring? Just by sliding that diamond on her finger, she could help him secure his job, which made for a more secure future for their baby. He was already doing everything he could to help stabilize her business, too.
She slipped the velvet box from the side table. The ring winked suggestively from the bed of velvet.
It was just a formality, really. She was here, in his house, pregnant with his child. What did it matter if she wore the ring?
Phone tucked under her chin, Lauren slid the ring in place and closed her fist. She knew this was the right thing to do, but the thought of sitting around here all day staring at that ring and second-guessing herself made her nerves churn so fast she feared losing her toast.
Jason wanted his office to know about their engagement. He’d given her time to gain her footing even though the delay could cost him. So why bother waiting? She could meet the people he worked with and even surprise Jason with a casual meal out where they could start on their path of a smoother relationship for the baby’s sake.
Decision made, she stood. “Mom, it’s been great talking to you, but I have a lunch date I just can’t miss.”
Staring out the taxi window, Lauren took in the towering white buildings of Union Square’s posh shopping district. Somewhere in that concrete jungle with palm trees waited Maddox Communications. She’d done more research on the Internet about MC before leaving Jason’s house. She was a businesswoman in her own right and knew to arm herself as well as possible before entering any new camp.
The Maddox patriarch, James, had founded Maddox Communications more than fifty years ago. He’d married Carol Flynn and they’d had two sons: Brock and Flynn, who each went into the family business. When James died eight years ago, Brock took over the helm, with his brother acting as vice president.
Lauren leaned forward, reading signs, watching for Powell Street, and, more important, the building referred to as The Maddox. Finally the cab cruised to a stop in front of the seven-story, Beaux Arts–style building constructed in 1910. The article she’d found said the building had been set for demolition when James Maddox saved it from the wrecking ball and had it lovingly restored in the late seventies.
Now the building was reputed to be worth ten times his purchase price.
She tipped the cabbie and stepped out of the taxi. Automatic doors whooshed wide. The first floor was home to the trendy New American cuisine restaurant Iron Grille and several retail stores. At the elevator, she consulted the building legend and found the second and third floors were rented out to other businesses.
Floors five and six were the corporate offices. Directions indicated that clients and visitors to Maddox Communications should enter the offices on the sixth floor.
Elevator Muzak piped jazz horns, floors chiming smoothly and quickly. The elevator opened directly to a reception desk and total opulence and edginess, from the black-stained oak floors to the stark white walls with original art. Two seventy-inch plasma screens sat on either side of the large reception desk, showing videos/commercials with a small scroll of words along the bottom proclaiming they’d been produced by Maddox Communications.
Jason had landed well in his new job. A sense of pride in his accomplishment beyond his parents’ wealth stirred. She sure understood how tough it could be to step out of the shadow of influential parents to make your own mark in the world.
Lauren’s low heels clicked along the high-sheened floors.
The receptionist smiled. “Welcome to Maddox Communications.” Her short brown hair swished with every perky twitch of her head. “How can I help you?”
Lauren glanced down at the woman’s name plate—Shelby—and smiled. “Hello, Shelby, I’m here to see Jason Reagert. My name’s Lauren Presley.”
“Yes, ma’am, if you’ll wait over there?” She gestured to the large white leather sofas.
Lauren flickered her thumb over the engagement ring nervously as butterflies stirred. Shelby eyed her with undisguised curiosity. Lauren’s stomach flipped again.
Suddenly Lauren wasn’t so sure this had been a good idea, after all. What kind of game had she been expecting to play? She’d wanted to show Jason she was in charge and had only succeeded in looking erratic.
She cringed inside. Maybe she should just leave. She inched her purse around to cover her stomach, starting to stand.
A shadow stretched from the hall and she hesitated. Was it Jason already?
A lean man, around forty with black hair, came into sight, stern and very obviously not Jason. The man stopped at the desk, passing a note, his voice low. Lauren decided to make her big escape—
Shelby whispered back and pointed to Lauren. He straightened and walked toward her. Damn.
He extended his hand. “Hello, I’m Brock Maddox.” The CEO. The big boss and obviously one confident son of a gun. “I understand you’re here to see our wonderboy.”
Busted. She shook his hand. “Lauren Presley. I’m a friend of Jason’s. I’m also a graphic designer. We worked together on a couple of projects back in New York.”
He eyed her stomach briefly. Sheesh. Was it that obvious? Apparently so. “Are you in San Francisco on work or vacation?”
“Both,” she answered noncommittally. “Shelby was just about to let Jason know I’m here.”
“Follow me. You can surprise him.” Brock gestured over his shoulder and began plowing deeper into the Maddox offices, making low small talk she barely registered.
She was committed now to seeing this through. She quelled her nerves as he stopped in front of a door with a brass plate: Jason Reagert.
Inhaling a bracing breath, she pushed open the door and stopped short. Jason stood with his back to her—with a woman. A smiling, stunningly beautiful red-haired woman who had her hand placed intimately on his arm.
Fluttering nerves morphed into stone-still anger and a possessiveness that unnerved her to the tips of her toes.
He couldn’t actually be seeing someone else? For a guy who cared about causing a scandal at work, he sure was playing with fire on a lot of levels.
Lauren stiffened her spine, feeling as frozen as the chill seeping into her heart. As she took in the couple standing together in his sleek office full of nautical prints, she couldn’t believe she’d actually allowed herself to be hopeful simply because he’d brought her some toast and milk.
God, she was too easy. She’d had it with passively letting people walk all over her—her mother, her accountant, now Jason. She twirled the ring on her finger. At least she’d gotten a wake-up call when it came to the father of her baby.
He’d brought her here, damn it. And she wasn’t going to scamper off like some scared rabbit. He wanted a fiancée? He was about to get one. Big-time.
“Hey there, lover.” Lauren rested her hands on her stomach. “I’m absolutely starving. Are you ready for lunch?”
Six
Damn it all.
Jason stepped back from Celia so her hand fell from his arm—something he’d been a second away from doing, anyway, right before Lauren walked into his office. What was she even doing here? And to make matters worse, Brock stood just behind her, scowling.
What rotten timing all the way around. Celia had stopped by his office to ask if he was going out for drinks after work, and he’d been preparing the words to clear the air between them when the door had opened.
He needed to do some damage control ASAP.
Lauren stepped farther into the office, her green eyes flashing like kryptonite, ready to take down Clark Kent. Her loose-fitting teal-colored dress swirled around her legs, brushing against her curves. The woman was total sensual confidence. She thrust out her hand—her left one—engagement ring glinting. “I’m Lauren Presley, Jason’s fiancée just in from New York. We’re getting married tonight.”
“Married?” Celia squeaked.
“Tonight?” Jason needed air because keeping up with the surprises Lauren dished his way was an Olympic sport.
Brock cocked an eyebrow and leaned deeper into the doorway for a front-row seat.
Lauren breezed up to Jason’s desk and hooked her arm in his. “I know an elopement is supposed to be a secret. Sorry for spilling the beans, honey, but I’m just so darn excited. We’re catching a hop to Vegas. Hokey, I know, but, well—” she caressed her stomach “—it’s obvious we don’t have a whole lot of time to plan unless I want to get married wearing a tent.”
Brock stuffed his hands into his pockets, his face inscrutable. “We all had no idea. Congratulations.”
Jason adjusted his tie. “Thank you.”
Lauren smiled apologetically. “Blame me for that secrecy part, Mr. Maddox. I tend to be very private about my social life. I’m working on being more open.” She smiled up at Jason, her fingernails digging trenches into his arm, the only indication her joy was anything other than authentic. “Did you tell them you’ll be late for work tomorrow?”
He patted her hand, easing her nails away. “Uh, not yet.”
Brock straightened. “Sounds like you two have some plans to make. We all look forward to celebrating with you when you get back. Congratulations again.” He held the door open for wide-eyed Celia to follow.
Man, Jason owed her an apology. But he also owed Lauren his loyalty. Had she been serious about eloping? If so, why the sudden change of heart?
Once the door clicked shut, Jason turned to Lauren, eyeing her warily. Her hand rested mighty darn close to the pewter antique compass he used as a paperweight. Was she the kind of person who threw things? She was usually so calm he wouldn’t expect behavior like that from her. Although he also wouldn’t have expected her to announce to the world they were jetting off to Vegas in a few hours.
He closed the gap between them, watching her stoic face for the least sign of her mood. “Were you serious about eloping tonight?”
“Serious as a heart attack.” She set the pewter paperweight down with an extra-hefty thud.
“That’s great, really great.” He wasn’t sure what had caused her change of heart. Hell, he wasn’t sure what had propelled her to come to the office in the first place, but he didn’t intend to argue. He brushed her hair back over her shoulder, lightly, intimately. “You have nothing to be jealous about with Celia.”
“Who said I’m jealous?” she snapped.
“You’re obviously upset.” He cupped the back of her neck, massaging, hopefully soothing.
She shrugged free of his hand. “I don’t like being made a fool of.”
“There’s nothing going on between Celia and me.” And there wasn’t.
“Does she know that?” Lauren jabbed a finger toward the door.
“I was making sure when you walked in.”
Her eyes narrowed. “So there is something between the two of you.”
“Whoa, hold on. Let’s back this up.” His feet damn near paced the shine off the black floors. “You’re confusing the hell out of me. I try my ass off to charm you, and you all but toss my ring in the Bay. But when you think I’m flirting with another woman—which I was not—you’re ready to elope?”
“As soon as you can pack your bags and book the flight.” She closed the gap between them, blocking his pacing. Her jaw jutted aggressively. Which also happened to thrust out her full, kissable bottom lip.
She was hot when she was mad. Her eyes glimmered and her hair all but crackled from the heat radiating off her.
He was trying to do the straight-up best thing for their baby, and she was jerking him around nonstop. “If you’re so pissed at me, why did you announce to the world we’re headed to a Vegas wedding chapel?”
“Before—” she inched closer, tipping her head back until there was only a whisper of static-charged air between them “—I was worried about our feelings getting tangled up. But believe me, you’ve laid to rest all my fears about broken hearts and muddying the waters with an emotional train-wreck marriage like my parents went through. Now I know without question, there’s not a chance in hell that I could fall in love with you. So let’s go to Vegas.”
Lauren held it together all the way through the introductions to Maddox Communications employees as Jason escorted her to his car. At least Jason had seemed to get the message she didn’t want to give anything other than simple yes and no answers as he chartered a flight to Vegas.
She even managed to stay dry-eyed during the flight and through the sham of a wedding ceremony, difficult as hell to do since Jason had somehow managed to find a garden chapel service.
