Black Ties and Lullabyes (18 page)

Alexis introduced the woman as Madeline Rayburn.

One of her perfectly manicured hands was wrapped around a glass of Chardonnay, and she shook Jeremy’s hand with the other.

“Madeline is new in town,” Alexis said. “She’s the museum’s new development director.”

Jeremy smiled. “Congratulations.”

“I’m sure you remember me tel ing you about Jeremy,” Alexis said, as if she hadn’t already spil ed everything to Madeline, from his stock holdings to his favorite restaurant to his underwear preference. “He’s the CEO of Sybersense.”

“Yes,” she said coyly. “Of course I remember.” Alexis leaned in and spoke confidential y. “He’s also a shameless womanizer. Be careful, Madeline.

He’l break your heart and not think twice about it.” Madeline let out a dramatic sigh. “Wel , I suppose some men are just born to play the field.”

“True,” Alexis said, shooting a glance at Jeremy.

“And some men just haven’t found the right woman yet.”

“And which one of those might you be?” Madeline asked Jeremy.

He gave her a suggestive smile. “I suppose that’s up to you to find out.”

“Wel , it looks as if my work here is done,” Alexis said. “You two get to know each other.” She looped her arm through Phil’s. “The mayor just arrived,” she told him. “Let’s meet and greet.”

As they walked away, Madeline moved closer, and after only a few minutes of conversation, Jeremy had to hand it to Alexis. She was right. Madeline was beautiful, cultured, wel -spoken, and wel -educated, not to mention oozing with the kind of sex appeal that made him wonder how she’d gotten to her late twenties without a ring on her finger. Basical y, she was al a man could want in a woman in one very attractive package. So why, as he imagined kissing her, undressing her, running his hands over her body, did he feel nothing?

Okay, so he felt
something.
He’d have to be dead and buried to feel nothing. But while Madeline might be a little more intel igent than most, when he could afford to be with the most stunning women in town, pretty soon there was nothing unique about any of them and he found himself wanting more.

He found himself wanting Bernie.

She worked right here at the museum. Day shift, but that didn’t stop him from imagining her looking at him right now on one of the security cameras. If she were to see him, she’d see Madeline, too. And he could only imagine what she’d be thinking.

Come on, Bridges. Tall, blond, and gorgeous?

Isn’t it time you climbed out of that rut?

She’s after your money, you know. They all are.

Golddiggers are a dime a dozen.

How many times do I have to tell you? The bigger
the boobs, the smaller the brain.

God, how he missed having her with him for hours on end, tossing out sarcastic remarks like candy at a Mardi Gras parade.

Madeline was saying something about one of the pieces in the exhibit, but al Jeremy could hear were his own thoughts. The memory of that night in the safe room flashed through his mind. To say he had a preoccupation about making love to Bernie again was a serious understatement.

He even knew exactly how it would go.

It would be different next time. He’d make sure of that, because next time he’d be running the show. Of course, she’d protest at first, but only because they were oil and water, fire and ice, with the push-pul between them practical y built into their DNA. But after a single sizzling kiss, her resistance would be gone, and

he’d

be

control ing

every

moment.

Choreographing every heartbeat. Dialing back the animosity. Turning up the sensuality. Shifting the furious heat of their first encounter into a slow, scorching feast for the senses. He’d take her slowly, deliberately, even as she begged for more, but he had al night to make love to her, and the next night, and the next…

“Jeremy?
Jeremy
.”

He snapped to attention. Madeline was looking at him as if he’d grown two heads.

“You seem a little lost in thought,” she said.

“Uh… yeah. Sorry. What were you saying?”

“Never mind. I think we need to change the subject.” She smiled seductively and inched closer, reminding Jeremy of his promise to Alexis to show up and play nice, which meant he needed to put Bernie out of his mind. He’d worked endlessly these past several years to have the business, the money, the cars, the houses, and the jet-set lifestyle he’d always wanted. But the number-one hal mark of his success was the undivided attention of beautiful women, and he was going to try to do everything he could tonight to enjoy it.

“Hey, girl,” Lawanda said as she bustled through the door. “Thanks for staying til I could get here.”

“No problem,” Bernie said, already gathering up her things so she could go home. “Did you get everything taken care of?”

“Done,” Lawanda said, plopping down her cooler and her McDonald’s sack. Evidently this was Big Mac night.

“Did you like the lawyer?” Bernie asked.

“Yep. Chick’s badass. By the time she’s through with my soon-to-be ex, the son of a bitch won’t know what hit him.” She dug through her cooler, pul ed out a Red Bul , and popped the top. “Anything happen on your shift I need to know about?”

“Nope,” Bernie said, sticking her iPhone into her purse. “Boring as always. Oh, wait. Some kid tried to climb up on one of the mummy cases. I radioed Carl to take care of it. That was my excitement for the day.”

“Wel , things are getting ready to pick up here in a minute,” Lawanda said, clicking one of the monitors.

“Yep. Lookie there. Fundraiser tonight. The rich folks are showing up already.”

Bernie glanced at the monitor, which showed one elegant vehicle after another dropping the cream of Dal as’s social crop at the museum’s front entrance.

The scene was far too familiar to Bernie, which was why, for the past twenty minutes, she had done only cursory checks of that camera, as wel as those in the atrium where the event was being held. Now that Lawanda had final y shown up, she could get the hel out of there.

“It’s kinda like watching the stars show up to the Oscars,” Lawanda said. “Stick around and we’l rate the women’s gowns.”

“No, thanks,” Bernie said.

“Better yet,” Lawanda said, switching the screen to an interior view of the atrium, “we can pick us out a couple of rich men.”

“Right. Those men wouldn’t give us the time of day.”

“Hey! Don’t you go raining on my parade. As of tonight, I’m ready to do some man shopping.”

“Wel , good luck,” Bernie said, pul ing her backpack up to her shoulder and heading for the door. “I hope you find the guy you’re looking for.”

“Wel , I’l be damned,” Lawanda said. “That didn’t take long.”

Bernie turned back. “What?”

“There he is.”

“Who?”

“My dream man, of course.”

Bernie’s eyes flicked automatical y to the screen just as Lawanda zoomed in, and what she saw nearly made her faint dead away.

Jeremy?

Bernie stepped closer to the monitor, her gaze fol owing the sculpted angle of his cheekbone, then sliding down to the sensual curve of his mouth. Even at the distance the camera was pul ed back, there was no doubt about it.

It was Jeremy.

Bernie remembered the last time she’d seen him dressed like this. Then undressed. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to drive the memory back to her subconscious where it belonged.

No such luck.

“Mmm,
mmm
,” Lawanda said with a swooning sigh. “I do love me a man in a tux. Makes him look al James Bond and everything.”

Bernie swal owed hard, trying to keep her cool.

Given the fact that Jeremy attended events like this one al the time, she’d always known the possibility existed that someday she’d see him on one of these screens, likely with a beautiful woman or two.

She just hadn’t expected it to happen so soon.

She’d even imagined how she’d react. She would just shrug and move on to the next camera view as if he meant nothing to her. He
did
mean nothing to her, at least in that way. But if that were true, why were tingles spreading across the back of her neck like tiny fireworks exploding?

Lawanda pul ed the camera back a little. Bernie saw the woman Jeremy was with, because of course there had to be one. It was Madeline Rayburn, the museum’s new development director, one of those tal , gorgeous, genetical y blessed women Jeremy was always drawn to. Without a doubt, he’d be taking her home, because women didn’t say no to Jeremy.

The party would start in the back of his limo, then continue al the way to his four-poster bed.

“Shit,” Lawanda said. “He’s with that new chick at the museum. Little hussy.” Lawanda lifted her chin.

“I’m twice the woman she is.”

Pound for pound, Lawanda was twice the woman most women were, but Bernie didn’t bother pointing that out.

She knew this was dangerous. She knew she should just walk away, but for some reason she was mesmerized by the sight on the screen, her feet glued to the spot where she stood. She knew a woman’s worth had nothing to do with her appearance. So why, when she looked at Madeline, did she feel pea-green with envy?

She watched the way Jeremy was smiling at Madeline. When Bernie had been with him, there had been no smiles. Passion, yes, but only the kind fueled by anger. Lust, absolutely, but as primitive as it got.

Hearts and flowers belonged to women like Madeline.

Bernie was the kind of woman men like Jeremy denied having had sex with to their dying breath.

Of course, given her pregnancy, he’d have a hard time denying it now.

“I can see by your reaction that you’re thinking about fighting me for him,” Lawanda said, shaking her finger at Bernie. “But let me warn you. You may have your black belt and al that, but being pregnant wil slow you down. And even though I’m short, I’m scrappy.”

“You’d beat up a pregnant woman?”

“Honey, for that man I’d beat up a pregnant
nun
.” Bernie nodded toward Madeline. “Forget me.

She’s the one you’re going to have to go three rounds with.”

“Ha! That skinny bitch? I can take her in a heartbeat.” She turned back to the screen. “Wonder who he is?”

“Jeremy Bridges,” Bernie murmured. Just the sound of his name passing her lips made another little shot of fireworks sizzle between her shoulders.

“Jeremy Bridges? Wait a minute. That’s the guy you used to work for, isn’t it? The real y rich guy?” Bernie tore her gaze from the screen. “I have to get home.”

Lawanda rol ed her eyes. “Oh, al
right.
You already know the guy, which gives you first dibs. But the next sexy rich man is al mine.”

“Rich men are a pain in the ass,” Bernie said, hoping her words would counter her thoughts and Lawanda wouldn’t see the hot flush inching across her cheeks. “You can have al of them.”

“Wel , then,” Lawanda said. “I’d be a fool to turn that down, wouldn’t I? But don’t you forget that I did offer to share.”

“And don’t you forget to check out the other thirty-five cameras,” Bernie said.

“Hey! You think I can’t multitask? Multitasking is my middle name.” She gave Bernie a smile and a wink, then turned her attention back to the monitors.

Bernie slipped out the door and started down the hal , feeling as if she were walking in a daze. She decided she’d leave through the door that was as far away from the atrium as possible, then circle around to the parking lot at the back of the building. She’d get in her car and go home, where she’d spend the rest of the evening as she always did, with the TV remote and something bland for dinner, and then endure an irritatingly chatty telephone cal from her mother before she final y went to bed and got up to do it al over again. The thought of it actual y made her sick to her stomach.

No. I can’t do it. I can’t.

She doubled back, ducked into the ladies’ room, and sat down on the sofa, letting her backpack slide to the floor. She dropped her head to her hands, feeling breathless. Hopeless.

Manless.

She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t go home alone to the painful silence of her apartment, where al night long she’d picture Jeremy with Madeline and wish to God he was with her instead.

What’s wrong with you? Shake it off. Did you really
think he wasn’t spending the past few months with
every other woman in the Dallas metroplex?

This was stupid.
Stupid.
She knew what kind of man Jeremy was. That he’d decided he might like to experience a little fatherhood didn’t mean he had any feelings for
her
. So why was she acting like a lovestruck fool?

Enough was enough. She was just feeling sorry for herself. She didn’t want Jeremy. She was just feeling overwhelmed and underappreciated and fat and ugly and
pregnant
while he was out there living it up. But that was his life, not hers. And it never would be.

Jeremy had assumed that Madeline would be working the room like the fundraising professional she was, so it might be a while before he could steer her into his limo for a night on the town, fol owed by a trip to his bedroom. But even as she greeted one guest after another and chatted it up with the philanthropic crowd, she used every opportunity she could to touch his arm, move in closer, and laugh softly at anything remotely funny he happened to say.

They’d be out of there sooner than he expected.

“So you’re an art history major,” Jeremy said. “This pre-Columbian exhibit must be very exciting for you.” Madeline looked left and right, then spoke quietly.

“Can you keep a secret?”

“Of course.”

“I hate pre-Columbian. I’m more of a modern art girl.”

“But because of your position, you have to make nice about the exhibit?”

“Exactly.” She leaned in so close he could feel her breath on his ear as she spoke. “The sculpture garden is more to my liking. Have you seen it?”

“A time or two,” he said.

“There are a few new pieces. Would you like to take a look?”

“I’d love to.”

“Fol ow me. I know a shortcut.”

They dropped their glasses on a passing waiter’s tray, and Madeline led him on a circuitous route through the atrium, around an exhibit of semiprecious gems, and final y through a door that led to the sculpture garden. Max fol owed at a deferential distance, taking up his position at the window beside the door and turning statuelike once again.

The sun had dropped below the horizon, bathing the garden in a dusky glow. The landscaping was beautiful. The sculptures weren’t, but Jeremy pretended to admire the latest addition—a few gigantic iron pieces twisted around each other. It looked like the wreckage of a 747.

“It’s from Caril o’s Warrior series,” Madeline said.

“What do you think?”

“What I think,” Jeremy said, “is that it takes a trained eye to appreciate something of this quality.”

“You’re a very diplomatic man,” Madeline said with a smile. “I suppose beauty
is
in the eye of the beholder.”

They strol ed over to another sculpture that Madeline described in glowing terms. Jeremy thought it looked like a giant garbage can with a weather vane on top.

“How do your patrons feel about these new pieces?” he asked.

“They’ve generated some excitement,” she said.

“Unfortunately, in this economic climate…”

“Everybody’s a little strapped for cash.” Madeline sighed. “Yes. You have no idea how tiring it can be spending al day every day smiling and making nice with potential donors.”

“Donors like me?”

Madeline moved closer, the evening breeze tossing her blond hair over her shoulder. “If you’d like to write a great big check, I certainly wouldn’t turn it down. But trust me when I tel you—my interest in you has nothing to do with a donation to the museum.” Her subtle flirting had vanished, replaced by a blatant stare that let him know exactly what she was thinking.

“If you’l let me know when you’re tired of smiling,” he said, “maybe we could slip out of here. Hop in my car. I could show you a little bit of Dal as. The city lights—”

“I’m tired of smiling.”

As she looked at him expectantly, clearly offering everything he thought he wanted and more, he actual y felt disappointed. Was there any woman left on earth who was
hard
to get?

Truth be told, though, he wasn’t sure he wanted to get this one.

No, you idiot. Of course you want her. She’ll get
you back in the swing of things where you belong.

Do it now.

He pul ed his phone from his pocket, intending to cal Carlos to bring the car around. Then he heard a door open across the garden. He turned automatical y and saw a woman emerge from the building.

Bernie?

For a few seconds, he just stopped and stared at her. It was the wrong time. He knew for a fact she worked the day shift.

But there she was.

“Stay here for just a minute,” he said to Madeline, and started walking in Bernie’s direction.

“What? Where are you going?”

“Just stay put,” he said over his shoulder. “I’l be back in a minute.”

He strode down the flagstone path behind Bernie.

He cal ed out to her. She turned around, looking surprised. She was dressed as she always was. T-shirt. Jeans. No makeup. Straight, dark hair tucked behind her ears. He’d always thought of her as the kind of woman who faded into the wal the moment a woman like Madeline entered the room. Why, then, was he having a hard time even remembering what Madeline looked like?

“Hey, Bernie,” he said, stopping in front of her.

“What are you doing here? I thought you worked the day shift.”

“Uh… I usual y do, but I had to stay late tonight.” And suddenly he realized he didn’t have a thing to say. So why had he even walked over here? For reasons he couldn’t imagine, his heart was suddenly beating like mad.

“So…” he said final y, “how’s the job?”

“Good. It’s good.” She glanced at the tux he wore.

“Looks like you’re here for the event tonight.”

“Yeah.” He smiled to himself. Okay. Here it came.

For God’s sake, will you tie that tie? When are you
ever going to grow up and dress like an adult?

“So how do you like the Pre-Columbian exhibit?” she asked.

Jeremy frowned. What kind of question was that?

She couldn’t possibly be interested in his opinion of the exhibit. Why was she making stupid smal talk as if they barely knew each other?

“To tel you the truth, it sucks.” He glanced over his shoulder at Madeline, then lowered his voice. “Honest to God—only a moron would think that crap is art. And it’s not just the new exhibit. Look around this garden.” He pointed to one of the sculptures. “That one looks like somebody slashed a gigantic piece of aluminum foil with a machete.”

She shrugged offhandedly. “I guess beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

Jeremy winced. Wasn’t that what Madeline had said? What kind of response was that from Bernie, who once told him the painting in his foyer looked like two pigeons fighting over a ketchup-covered French fry?

“And speaking of beauty,” Bernie went on, “it looks as if you met the new development director.”

“Uh… yeah. Phil Brandenburg’s wife is on the museum board. She introduced us. She thinks we’d make a perfect couple.”

“She’s right.”

Jeremy blinked. “She is?”

“Of course. What more could you possibly want in a woman?”

Jeremy was growing more confused by the moment. “Aren’t you going to tel me it’s time I stopped dating blond bimbos?”

“No bimbo there,” Bernie said. “I hear she has a master’s degree from Vassar. Frankly, it’s about time you dated a woman who’s your intel ectual equal.”

“Intel ectual equal?” he said. “When’s the last time I chose a woman based on her intel ect?”

“Never. But clearly you’re branching out.” She smiled sweetly. “Good for you.”

Jeremy felt as if he’d landed on another planet.

Stop not being Bernie. I hate it.

Then he had a thought. Maybe she was uncomfortable seeing him with Madeline like this, and it impaired her sarcasm. He wouldn’t have thought that was possible, but what other explanation could there be?

“I know this must feel strange to you,” he said.

Bernie’s brows drew together. “Strange?”

“Seeing me with another woman.”

“Why would that be strange? I’ve been seeing you with other women for years.”

“You know what I mean. Me dating other women when you’re… you know.”

“Pregnant?”

“Yes.”

“With your babies?”

“Yes.”

“So you think it upsets me to see you with another woman?”

“Does it?”

Bernie laughed. “Of course not. No more than it would bother you to see me with another man.” Jeremy raised his eyebrows. “Another man?” She smiled. “The fact that we’re having children together doesn’t mean we have to step on each other’s personal lives, does it?”

“Uh… no. Of course not.”

“Which means it’s time for you to get back to Madeline.” She paused. “And I’l get back to Dave.” Jeremy snapped to attention. “Dave? Who’s Dave?”