A Bridge to Love (15 page)

That
brought to mind his verbal fantasy about making love to her in the pool.

“Oh,
hell,” he said in disgust as his erection pushed harder against his trousers.
He shoved down the accelerator and forced himself to concentrate on driving.

He
could hear his private line ringing when he walked into the house. He picked it
up with the thought that it might be Kate.

“And
where have you been?” Tom Rogan's voice asked.

“Is
another oil tank on fire?” Randall barked.

“No.”

“Then
why are you calling me?”

“I
wanted to find out if we're planning to invest in a chain of day care centers.
Rosa said that you had been doing some research with children this afternoon.”

“I
didn't know you and Rosa were in the habit of discussing my guests.”

“Rosa
was so thrilled to have children in the house that she told me all about them.
I was so astonished I listened. She also told me that you left in the Ferrari,
a car I happen to know you hate.”

“If
you're trying to impress two preadolescent boys, a Ferrari is second only to a
helicopter.”

“So
will it be helicopter rides next?”

“No,
their mother doesn't approve of recreational flying.”

“Too
bad. I'd like to see Janine's face when you showed up with two small boys in
tow,” Tom said with a chuckle.

“I'm
glad that I can provide you with your evening's entertainment.”

“I'm
just trying to figure out what's going on here.”

“I've
found the point of greatest vulnerability, and I'm exploiting it,” Randall
said, quoting one of their favorite lines from business school.

“I
see. This is strictly business then. My next question would be: is this a
merger or an acquisition?”

Randall's
voice was as cold as steel when he said, “I don't do mergers.”

“Just
checking,” Tom said agreeably and changed the subject.

But
when he hung up, he shook his head. “Next you'll be coaching their Little
League team.”

Thirteen

The Chilton family slept late
that Sunday morning. When the telephone rang, Kate had to clear her throat
before she could manage a husky, “Hello?”

“Did
I wake you? I'm sorry,” Oliver's voice slid smoothly through the receiver.

Kate
sat up in bed. “No problem.”

“How
did the soccer game go yesterday?”

“We
tied. But we're still in first place in the league by the skin of our teeth.”

“That's
great. If you're going to be home this afternoon, I thought I would stop by and
say hello.”

“You're
not going to join us for dinner?” Kate asked, secretly relieved. She'd had
enough of amorous dinner guests.

“No,
I have to finish a design for a meeting tomorrow. By the way, the final
contract for the partnership buyout is supposed to be ready tomorrow as well.
I'll try to make the signing process as quick and simple as I can. I know this
is painful for you.”

Kate
took a deep breath. “Would you fax a copy to Georgia? I realized that I should
probably have a lawyer look at it, and Georgia kindly agreed to.”

“Of
course,” Oliver said. “I want you to feel completely comfortable with the
contract.”

Kate
could tell that he was annoyed. “I trust
you
,
Oliver. It's the lawyers I worry about.”

Oliver's
chuckle sounded forced. “I'll be there at about three.”

As
Kate walked down the hall to see if Clay and Patrick were still asleep, she
tried to figure out a subtle way to keep them from discussing Randall Johnson
while Oliver was visiting. She didn't want to add fuel to that particular fire.

She
found Clay reading in bed. “Good morning. What are you reading?”

“The
next
Redwall
book,” Clay said,
flipping it over to show her the cover.

Kate
glanced at the illustration and then shifted her gaze to Clay's face as he
started reading again. The angle of his jaw and the sweep of hair across his
forehead reminded her so much of David that her heart twisted in her chest. She
brushed his hair with her fingertips. “You're a good-looking guy.”

Clay
gave her a quick, embarrassed smile and went back to his book. Kate stood up.
“It's waffle time.”

Patrick
bounced into the room. “Is Oliver coming over today? I want to nutmeg him.”

Kate
stifled a groan. “Guys, I want to ask you a grownup favor. Oliver doesn't
really like Mr. Johnson...”

“I
didn't know he knew Mr. Johnson,” Clay said.

“They've
met through business.” It was a necessary white lie. “It might be better if you
didn't mention that we spent yesterday afternoon with Mr. Johnson. It might
upset Oliver. He worries about all of us.”

“Why
would Oliver worry about us swimming in Mr. Johnson's pool?” Patrick asked.

“He's
not worried about
us
, he's worried
about
Mom
,” Clay said.

Her
older son was far too smart for comfort. She acknowledged his statement with a
nod.

“Oliver
has his own reasons for believing that Mr. Johnson would not make a good
friend. I don't agree with him but I don't want to hurt Oliver's feelings by
letting him know that.”

Patrick
looked less puzzled. “Does that mean I can't show Oliver how to nutmeg?”

Kate
gave his shoulder a quick squeeze. “You can show him as long as you don't
mention that Mr. Johnson taught you how to do it.” Kate hated dragging her
children into adult deceptions.

They
were just rolling their bicycles into the garage after a brisk ride around town
when Oliver pulled up. He got out of his car carrying a cookie tin and a square
box tied with a gold ribbon. The tin he presented to the boys. “Yeah, Gimmee
Jimmy's Cookies!” Clay and Patrick cheered, ripping open the seal and stuffing
chocolate chip cookies in their mouths.

“You
might offer your mother one first, you barbarians,” Oliver said, taking the tin
away from Clay and holding it out for Kate.

“Thanks,”
she said, taking a cookie. “Their Gimmee Jimmy's addiction wreaks havoc with
their manners. Would you like some milk to go with your cookies?” Kate led the
way into the house wondering what was in Oliver's other box. Thank goodness it
looked too big for a ring.

Once
the milk and cookies had been devoured, the boys went outside to warm up for
soccer. Kate subtly put the kitchen island between herself and Oliver, but he
walked around it. “I'd like you to come as my guest to the Beaux Arts Ball,” he
said.

The
Beaux Arts Ball was the architectural social event of the year. Proceeds went
to charity, but the real purpose of the event was for the stars of the
architectural world to see and be seen. The attire was black tie, and everyone
was supposed to wear a mask, which they or a member of their firm had created.
The competition was fierce, and many of the masks were truly works of art.
David had insisted that they attend each year.

She
had no desire to go with Oliver.

“That's
a lovely invitation but I can't create a mask worthy of the occasion –”

“I
anticipated that objection.” Smiling, he handed her the box. “The theme this
year is 'Man's Best Friend.' I don't want you to think that I meant some subtle
insult.”

Kate
untied the ribbon and lifted off the lid. Inside was a papier-mâché mask.

“It's
Gretchen!” Kate gasped. “Only a
lot
fancier.”

Oliver
had perfectly captured Gretchen's doggy grin. However, the mask glittered with
glass jewels and beads. As Kate examined it closely, she saw that the details
of Gretchen's fur had been painted on in gold. It was exquisite.

“Oliver,
this should be in a museum! It's too beautiful to wear.”

He
looked pleased. “We have to uphold the honor of C/R/G.”

When
she considered all the time and effort put into the mask – her mask – she
couldn't bring herself to refuse.

“I'll
be proud to go to the ball with you and wear this mask to uphold the honor of
C/R/G,” she said, bringing it up to her face. “How do I look as Gretchen?”

“Lovely
and mysterious.”

“Woof!”
Kate said, laughing, as she lowered the mask.

“Now
you look stunningly beautiful,” Oliver said. He reached out to smooth her hair
where the mask had caught on it and then let his hand trail over her shoulder
and down her arm.

She
braced herself to keep from flinching away. When Oliver looked at her this way,
he became a stranger. She was afraid that he was interpreting her acceptance in
every wrong way.

“I
suspect that I look better as a dog,” she said lightly, stepping away from him
to put the mask back in the box. “What breed is your mask?”

“A
yellow Labrador, to complement Gretchen.”

Kate
considered suggesting that a wolf in sheep's clothing would be more
appropriate, but that was the sort of thing she would only say to Randall.

“I
thought that the gold satin gown you wore to the awards dinner four years ago
would work well with the mask.”

Kate
was taken aback by his attention to her wardrobe. “You have a good memory. I
hope I can dig it out of the attic.”

“That's
great. Shall we play soccer?”

Kate
walked through the door he was holding for her wondering what in the world she
had let herself in for.

Georgia
called her at work on Monday to tell her that the contract was fine. “It's a
standard buy-out of a partnership. As your lawyer, the one thing that I would
advise you to do is to have the numbers audited. I checked with a couple of
sources who said that they seemed low for an established and apparently
successful architectural partnership.”

Kate
made a sound of disagreement and Georgia continued. “However, as your friend, I
know that you won't do that for fear of hurting Oliver and Ted's feelings.
Which is why you should never do business with friends or make friends of your
business colleagues.”

“I'm
very open-minded about that. I even have friends who are lawyers.”

“You
may have
former
friends who are
lawyers.”

Kate
laughed. “I really appreciate you doing this
pro bono
, although I wish you'd let me pay you.”

“You
can't afford me.”

Kate
smiled as she put down the telephone receiver. Georgia was truly the best. She
loved it when Georgia pretended her nasty New York lawyer persona was real.

Susan
Chen appeared in the opening to Kate's cubicle.

“I
hear that the bridge proposal is on its way to the Connecticut Department of
Transportation. Getting our name in front of the Commissioner for serious
consideration is a real coup. We couldn't have done that without you.”

Kate
glowed as the pleasure of Susan's praise flowed through her.

“Since
we probably won't hear anything for a few weeks, I have a couple of smaller
jobs that I thought that you might be interested in,” Susan continued.

Kate
had been unsure about whether Adler would keep her on during the waiting
period. After all, she was technically a consultant hired to do one specific
project. She smiled in relief. “Let me at them.”

As
she tried to make sense of a set of old blueprints, Kate's intercom beeped.
“Ted Gershon on line three.” Kate let the blueprints curl back up with a snap.

“Hello,
Ted.” Kate had never been as friendly with Ted as she had with Oliver, but she
had always liked the third partner in the firm. “I got the okay from my lawyer
so I'm ready to sign the contract.”

They
agreed on a time and talked a bit longer about the firm and the new partner.
Kate put down the receiver and stared straight ahead, testing this new feeling
of calm at the prospect of selling her share in the company that David had
worked so hard to build. It felt right to put C/R/G in the past. She was ready
to let it go without regret.

She
had found a newer set of blueprints for the same building and was comparing the
two when her phone buzzed again with Ted Gershon on line two.

“We're
postponing the contract signing because another bidder has come in.” Ted's
voice vibrated with controlled excitement. “A big California architectural firm
called Tower Design wants to establish a presence here on the East Coast, and
they want to buy into C/R/G to do it. They've made a very generous offer.”

“How
does it work? Will Paul Desmond still be buying in also?”

“We're
just in preliminary discussions, but they seem to be agreeable to that. Kate,
I'm so pleased about this for your sake. I know that it will change your tax
arrangements, but even with that you'll be able to take far more money out of
the firm this way.”

Kate
was puzzled by his comment about her “tax arrangements” but she let it go in
the general flow of good news. They talked about the numbers for a while and
then she asked, “Had you contacted this firm before? How did they know about
C/R/G?”

Ted
sounded like he was floating. “They came to us out of the blue. They knew our
reputation, and they knew about David's death, so they thought that we might be
looking for a new partner. You know how gossipy architects can be.”

“Don't
I, though. Oliver must be thrilled.”

“I
haven't even told him yet. He's tied up with a client, so I decided to call you
first.”

Kate
hung up the phone and tried to absorb her good fortune. Ted had warned her that
it was far from a “done deal,” but he sounded very optimistic.

She
did some quick calculations. If she put away half of the money, the boys'
college tuition would be completely taken care of. She could keep the rest as a
safety cushion and just use the income. With that and her paycheck, she and the
boys could live comfortably. Kate put her head down on her desk for a moment
and heaved a long sigh of relief. She felt as though a lead weight had been
lifted from her shoulders.

“Please
let the deal go through,” she whispered as she crossed her fingers.

She
had decided not to mention the new offer to Clay and Patrick, so when Oliver
called she shut herself in her bedroom. “I can't believe the good news,” she
said.

Oliver
sounded substantially less enthusiastic than Ted had. “We need to do a lot more
research on Tower Design. I don't know how much control we'll have to give up.”

“Oh.”
Kate's high spirits sank. “Ted seemed very pleased. And even
I've
heard good things about Tower.”

“The
offer is financially very advantageous to us. In fact, it's so good that I'm
suspicious.”

“You
certainly don't want to rush into any kind of a business deal if it might be
detrimental to the firm. But it would be awfully nice to have that money in my
bank account.”

“I
know, Kate.” Oliver sounded contrite. “For your sake, I want it to go through
without a hitch. But I don't want you to hope for too much.”