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Rusty grimaced at the truth of that. Such stains were an occupational hazard when one hosted children’s parties for a living. Lemon juice worked beautifully to remove the unwanted tint... when she found time to use it. She’d been busy until four o’clock today with a Mardi Gras celebration at the Sampson Enterprises day care, then had a very productive meeting with Angie Mallett, mother of one of the kids and a personal assistant to the CEO of the company.
“Are you ready to go? I’m dying to make an entrance.” Jade tucked a stray strand of her luxurious dark hair into the curls pinned up tonight to reveal faux diamond earrings. She wore scarlet, and if Rusty’s dress could be called indecent, Jade’s should be called illegal. Rusty knew that when bachelor heads turned, it would not be to look at a five-foot-five, freckle-faced redhead playing dress up. No, Jade, six feet tall and dark, would catch the eye of every man in the room, just as she always did. And who knew... maybe this time one of them would actually meet her mercenary standards.
“I’m ready,” answered Rusty, who held no malice toward Jade for her misguided goals. Tonight Rusty’s could only be considered fiscal, too. She’d been trying for ages to extend her client base to the influential side of town. This glitzy fund-raiser was just the social opportunity she needed. Rusty had high hopes for the evening, knowing things could only get better.
“We’ll take my car,” Jade said, breaking into Rusty’s thoughts.
“You mean you didn’t hire a golden carriage, oh Fairy Godmother?”
Jade hooted with laughter. “Cinderella, you ain’t.”
“And neither are you,” Rusty said, a gentle reminder that sobered the effervescent Jade for maybe half a second.
“Look... just because a rich guy dumped on your sister is no reason to assume they’re all jerks. In fact, I’m more than willing to give one a whirl.” She shrugged and led the way to the door. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll even get lucky tonight. Heck, honey, maybe you will, too.” She stopped short, a faraway look in her eye. “I can see it all now. You walk into the ballroom, nothing on your mind but business. You make a beeline for the first mommy-type you see, only to stop short when a strange man catches your eye. He’s tall, he’s dark, he’s handsome, he’s rich. Most important, he’s instantly in love with you.”
“Good grief, Jade. Would you quit talking nonsense and come on?”
“You’re drawn to him like metal to a magnet.”
“We’re going to be late.”
“Time stands still as the two of you come together, embrace and...kiss.” The last word was little more than a sigh.
“Are you coming or not?” Rusty tapped her toe on the floor in impatience.
“Suddenly it’s hearts, flowers and forever after.”
“Jade, I’m warning you...”
“And you never have to worry about anything again.” Jade’s eyes glazed.
“Snap out of it!”
It took several seconds, but Jade’s stare finally focused, and with a heavy sigh, she shrugged her acceptance of cold reality and once again headed for the door. “Can I help it if I’m a hopeful romantic and you’re a hopeless stick-in-the-mud?”
“Stick-in-the-mud!” Rusty stopped short. “I’ll have you know I’m the hostess with the mostest.”
“To the under-five set, maybe,” Jade answered, stopping to look back at her.
Rusty’s jaw dropped. “Are you saying I don’t know how to act around adults?”
“Yes, and male adults in particular.”
“I’ll have you know that I offered to buy a beer for a very handsome guy this very afternoon. I even gave him my phone number.”
“You’re kidding! Who?”
“His name is Brad Turner. He works in the mail room at Sampson.”
“You tried to pick up a teenager?”
“He was much older than that. Probably in his midto late-thirties.”
“God, Rusty. Only you would hit on a thirty-year-old mail clerk. That’s an entry position in any company. He’s got to be a real dud to still be in that sort of job at thirty.”
“So maybe he’s a supervisor or something,” murmured Rusty, somewhat defensively. Trust Jade to find something wrong with a man who would’ve knocked Rusty’s socks off earlier that day... had she been wearing any. As it was, he’d made her poor ol’ heart thump like a tom-tom.
She closed her eyes, remembering just how he looked: shaggy dark hair, gorgeous baby blues, chiseled jawline shadowed by whiskers no amount of shaving could completely erase. The man’s body was nothing to scoff at, either, as she recalled. Muscular...obviously fit. So what if he was a bit slow to warm up? He’d become quite human before their elevator time came to an end. And if she’d just had another half hour with him, he might even have loosened up enough to accept her offer of a beer.
“I’ll bet you a dollar to a doughnut he’s not a supervisor,” said Jade, bursting into Rusty’s Technicolor memories. “Want to know how I know?”
“Not really, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me, anyway.”
“I know because you have no taste in men. I mean, give you a lineup of nine blue-ribbon bachelors and one nerd, and you’ll pick the nerd every time.”
“Brad was not a nerd, Jade. He was a nice man. Nice is important—more important, in fact, than a hefty bank balance.” Rusty shook her head, searching for words to describe the incredible feelings Brad had evoked. “What can I say? He just knocked me out.”
“Heaven help me,” Jade murmured, throwing up her hands in exasperation and stepping out her front door.
Hesitating for a heartbeat, then following on Jade’s heels, Rusty silently echoed that sentiment. It would take all the angels in heaven plus a few here on earth to get her through this night’s gathering of high society without making a fool of herself.
Just half an hour later the two women stood outside the shiny brass doors of an elite country club. Following her friend’s lead, Rusty handed a uniformed doorman her gold-embossed ticket and stepped into fairyland. At least, that’s what it felt like, thanks to half a dozen enormous crystal chandeliers that illuminated the vast hall.
Pausing just inside the door with Jade at her side, Rusty scanned the crowded room for a familiar face and immediately saw several—the mayor of the city, standing next to the governor of the state, a U.S. senator, a local television talk-show host and a well-known brain surgeon. Not the crowd she usually ran with, Rusty realized, instantly abandoning all plans to peddle her paltry parties. Judging from the diamonds and furs in this room, any one of these mothers could simply rent Disneyland if they wanted to throw an extra-special birthday bash.
Thank goodness that afternoon’s appointment with Angie Mallett had gone so well. If their business arrangement worked out as discussed, Rusty would soon have one heck of a reference for her résumé, and a lack of contacts tonight really wouldn’t be the end of the world.
“I think we’re out of our league, here,” Rusty murmured to Jade, more than a little curious how her lower-middle-class housemate had wrangled invitations to this upper-upper-class event.
When Jade did not reply, Rusty looked around to discover that she now stood alone.
“Great,” she muttered in dismay, searching the crowd for her flashy friend, who was not to be found.
Though half-tempted to turn tail and run, Rusty squared her shoulders instead and began to wind her way through the crush of people, destination unknown. She said nothing to anyone, barely risking a timid smile, and that only when someone else smiled first.
It would be easy to turn into a wallflower tonight instead of working the room, she decided, now near hyperventilation point. How nice to stand safely to one side of the room, watching the posturing of the filthy rich.
“Well, if it isn’t Miz Rusty...”
Astonished to hear someone—especially a male someone—speaking her name, Rusty whirled around.
“Mail room Brad! Gosh, it’s good to see you.” It was all she could do not to hug the man—a virtual stranger, who at this moment was as welcome as a long-lost friend.
“I didn’t know you were going to be here,” Brad murmured, stepping so close that she had to tip her head back to meet his gaze. Rusty noted that he looked as astonished to see her as she was to see him.
“Neither did I,” she answered, laughing, oh so thrilled to see someone in her price range...especially this someone. “Is this—” she swept her arms to encompass the room “—the ‘obligation’ you mentioned earlier today?”
Brad nodded in reply, his gaze frisking Rusty from head to toe.
“Do this sort of thing often?” Rusty next asked, intrigued. Clearly Jade wasn’t the only peasant with impressive social connections.
“Only when I have to,” he said.
Rusty smiled at that and made an appraisal of her own, beginning at Brad’s satin bow tie and gradually encompassing his cummerbund, snow-white shirt, and perfectly tailored black jacket and pants. And to think she’d thought him gorgeous in khaki. He seemed so relaxed, too. As if he wore this kind of getup all the time.
The strangest feeling of uneasiness sneaked up on Rusty, who didn’t understand, so ignored it. What was surely going to be the worst night of her life had just turned into the best. Brad was here, and for all his cool demeanor hadn’t once looked away from her shiny black dress.
Warming up in response to his heated stare, Rusty asked, “Is there a punch bowl close by?”
“I believe there is, yes.” He stood tall enough to look over most heads, so did. “I see it. Are you thirsty?”
“Dry as the Sahara.”
“Then allow me to get you a drink.” He stepped away, only to stop short when Rusty reached out and grabbed his arm.
“I’m coming, too,” she announced, slipping a hand into his. If the familiarity surprised Brad, he covered it well and led the way to a buffet table heaped with artfully presented hors d’oeuvres, fruits, desserts and, best of all, drinks.
Brad moved to the punch bowl, supervised the filling of a crystal cup, then handed it to Rusty, who gratefully swallowed the entire contents. Alcoholic? she wondered, savoring the tangy flavor. Perhaps one of those drinks that hit hard later, scrambling the wits of unsuspecting young women when they least expected it? Why, by midnight she might find herself at Brad’s mercy—inhibitions gone with the wind.
Rusty choked back a laugh that threatened to spew what was probably only ginger ale and fruit juice. Instinct told her that Brad wasn’t the sort of guy who’d take advantage of a woman, even if attracted to her. And as far as Rusty could tell, he wasn’t all that attracted beyond a typical male interest in her female anatomy, a good bit of which showed at the moment.
In fact, he seemed really uneasy, and just then his gaze was everywhere but on her dress. Did he, perhaps, have a date waiting for him somewhere in this huge room? A date who now tapped her foot in impatience and wondered where in the heck he’d gone?
“Am I keeping you from someone?”
That got his attention again. “What? Oh, um, no. Why?”
“You seem so...restless.”
“Sorry. It’s just that I’m never really comfortable at functions such as this.”
“Then why’d you come?”
“I’d promised,” Brad replied with a shrug. “Besides, it’s for a good cause. Don’t you agree?”
“Oh, sure.” Rusty, who didn’t even know what cause that was, felt her face heat. At that moment Brad’s gaze found her gown again. He looked at it so long she felt her face get even hotter and had to wonder if he had X-ray vision. Suddenly she felt smothered. “What’s beyond those doors?”
“A veranda.”
“Perfect,” Rusty muttered, handing her empty glass to a waiter with a tray and then heading straight for some nearby French doors, half-hidden behind diaphanous white curtains.
With a twist of the knob, they swung open. She stepped outside onto what turned out to be a wide balcony. The air, unusually warm for late February, felt heavenly and smelled that way, too, thanks to the winter rose garden just beyond. Colorful and fragrant, it lured Rusty, and without hesitation she negotiated a stairway descent and entered it.
“Now this is more like it,” she murmured to herself as she sniffed a perfect red rose.
“So you hate crowds, too?”
Rusty spun around to find that Brad had followed and now stood right behind her. She really hadn’t expected that. “Some crowds. Certainly this one.”
“What’s wrong with this one?”
His tone hinted he might be offended. Rusty arched an eyebrow in surprise. “Why, it’s too ritzy, of course.”
“You expected something else?” Now he sounded bemused.
“As a matter of fact I did, probably because my housemate Jade Martinelli, who provided my ticket, is so normal.”
“Jade Martinelli?” He said the name slowly and softly as if vaguely familiar with it. Rusty hoped he hadn’t read it on a bathroom wall somewhere.
“That’s right. Um...do you know her?”
“I’m not sure.” He hesitated a millisecond longer, then gave it up with a shake of his head. “So you think that the people in that room aren’t as normal as you and your friend, Jade?”
“If normal is based on most citizens of this country, then I’d have to say no. Based on my experience, people who have this much money are ridiculously preoccupied with making more and don’t realize what’s really important in life.” Belatedly, she noted Brad’s frown. “Not that some of the people in there aren’t nice,” she quickly added. “I mean they’re here supporting this charity, aren’t they?”
He nodded. “Yes, and at considerable cost to them.”
Considerable cost? Just how much was that? Rusty wondered, trying in vain to ignore a second stab of uneasiness. What on earth had Jade hocked to get the money for their tickets? Her soul? Rusty gulped. Surely not her body. “I’m thinking we should talk about something else.”
“Not until we sit down,” Brad answered, looking a bit relieved. “Then we can talk about whatever you want.”
He looked around, spotted an ornate wrought-iron bench several yards farther into the garden, and led the way as they maneuvered through the flowers to get to it. Rusty seated herself beside him...or tried to. Her shoes slipped on the dew-kissed grass, resulting in an abrupt descent that put her half on and half off the bench. Luckily Brad had quick reflexes and saved her from landing on her butt on the ground. Not so luckily, his hand bumped her right breast, which nearly popped completely out of the dress.
“Sorry,” he murmured, face crimson even in the dim glow of the countless twinkle lights illuminating the garden.
“That’s OK,” Rusty replied, turning her back on him, tugging the dress back up. “Mind if I slip off these shoes? They’re lethal on this wet grass.”
“Go right ahead.”
An awkward silence settled on them as she stepped out of the strappy black shoes and set them to one side. The dew felt great on her tortured soles, and Rusty couldri’t help but wiggle her cramped toes as she slid back onto the bench and gave Brad a self-conscious smile. Belatedly she noticed that his arm lay on the back of the bench and now kept her bare skin from touching the cool metal.
Disconcerted, Rusty cleared her throat rather noisily. “So, um, how long have you worked at Sampson, Brad?”
“Nineteen years.”
Rusty’s jaw dropped. “They hire toddlers?”
“I started in the mail room at sixteen,” Brad told her with a grin.
So he was thirty-nve—older than she’d expected, but only seven years more than her own twenty-eight.
“How long have you been working with kids?” he then asked.
“Six years. I was a secretary before that. Hated putting on panty hose every day, so knew I had to find another line of work.” She heard the echo of her candid admission and tensed. “Guess you didn’t need to know that last bit of trivia.”
“Actually,” Brad answered with a laugh so sexy it made her palms sweat, “it gives me a whole new view of you...not that there’s anything wrong with the current one.” His gaze swept her from head to toe, just as it had earlier that night. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look?”
“Why, no.” She couldn’t prevent her smile of pleasure. “Did I tell you how handsome you look?”
