Double-Cross My Heart (25 page)

“And neither Alex or Michele knows nothing about the actual test results? Michele’s still getting the fake ones?”

“Neither Alex or Michele know what I’m up to,” Eden said, keeping her smile wide though it felt tight on her face. “You’re the only one I’ve told about the anti-aging cream. Everything is lining up the way I’d hoped. The board members I’ve talked to aren’t impressed with Wendi’s credentials or her bullshit. They’ve actually been worrying about Michele’s failing leadership, at least, that’s what Sarah Briggs said when we played racquetball several days ago.”

Jessica grinned. “You’re actually playing racquetball on a  regular basis?”

Eden grimaced. “Believe it or not. At first I thought I’d die, but I’m getting pretty good now. At least, I’m not gasping like a landed fish after every game.”

“Good,” Jess said, laughing. “Then this whole plotting-and-strategizing side of you has had real benefits. Exercise can be stress-reducing and you’re finally motivated to get fit.”

Eden stuck her tongue out at her friend.

“So, its coming together and you’ll be ready for the board meeting,” Jessica concluded. “It’s mid-December, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Eden confirmed. “I’m getting everything lined up. I really think I’ve got Wendi and Michele beat.”

“And Alex,” Jess reminded her. “You’ve got Alex snowed.”

“Yes.” Working very hard to keep her dismay and confusion off her face, Eden widened her smile. She really had Alex snowed. He didn’t have a clue about how she actually felt toward him.

Then again, neither did she. She knew what she should feel, but the picture wasn’t as clear as she have liked it to be.

“So,” her friend said again, searching Eden’s face, “it’s all good?”

“Yes,” she replied with careful firmness as the guy at the end of the bar got up and walked toward their table, obviously deciding to try his luck in person. He wasn’t a bad looking guy, but Eden had her hands too damn full in the romance department these days.

“Yes,” Eden said again, ignoring the knot in her stomach, “it’s all good. My plans are on track.”

***

At ten o’clock the next morning, Eden stood in the Women’s restroom, grateful the stalls behind her were empty. Dipping a paper towel in the icy water rushing from the tap, she dabbed at her flushed cheeks, hoping to hide the tear stains. She didn’t know what the hell was the matter with her. In her entire life, she’d never been a crier.

Even when she was small and lived in the middle of her mother’s emotional chaos, she never cried. She’d sat stoic in her room, ignoring the parade of men littering up her mother’s life. She had practice. For years, she’d ignored her father’s belittling of her mother.

Tears had always seemed pointless.

When her first boyfriend had dumped her for a friend of hers, Eden hadn’t cried. She’d wanted to castrate him, but she hadn’t cried.

Even her father’s death had elicited only a few tears. Some relationships were winter-dry even in death. Her sadness and bitter regrets about her family hadn’t been the kind eased by tears.

But here she stood, sniffling back hiccups, trying to stop a sudden rush of weeping. She’d never been like this before. Maybe she was losing her mind under the pressure. This rush of emotion choked her and slashed over her with tidal force.

Sitting at her desk, working on the department budgets just now, she’d been startled to see water dropping on to the sheet, blurring the numbers. Putting a hand to her cheek, she realized she was crying.

That hard knot in her throat should have warned her, she thought, retreating as quickly as she could to the empty bathroom. But she’d been living with the clenched feeling for some time now, that and the one in her stomach.

Only when she’d been laughing with Alex…eating dinner with him…making love….

No!

Pressing the cold wet paper towel more firmly against her closed eyes, she told herself again,
No.

It didn’t matter what regrets her stupid stomach kept trying to get her to see. It didn’t matter. What was done was done. It didn’t matter how she felt about the situation.

Michele betrayed their working relationship—and her own promise to hand over the company leadership—leaving Eden to respond as best she could to a futile situation. Alex had betrayed her…hell, in just about the most basic way a man could.

It suddenly flashed into her mind that she had no certainty that he was even faithful to their “relationship.” Really…what made her think he was only with her if he was only with her for the business?

The thought left her gut clenched. Even if this…this whatever they had between them…wasn’t real, she hated—
hated
the thought of him with another woman.

Drying her hands on a paper towel yanked from the holder, Eden firmed her jaw. It was all about survival now.

She was doing what she had to do. She was getting the company any damned way she could. Not much else was left to her.

Alex had started their relationship out of a specific intention to use her. All she could do was react.

She was doing the only thing she could—trying to save the employees and Michele Cosmetics, even if the old woman didn’t realize it.

Eden sniffled. Now if she could just stop the damned tears.

***

Going home that night, exhausted from the day of intensive work, Eden parked in the underground parking garage and wearily picked up her case filled with the files she’d brought home to go over. The garage echoed emptily as she crossed to the elevator, shivering in the full length cashmere coat that was doing its best to block the wind gusting down the ramp.

Even the lure of Payday bars couldn’t divert her. She just needed to crawl into her bed. Although she craved the salty-sweet taste, she was too damned tired to go find another box. She’d eaten her last three bars when she returned from Alex’s place about three in the morning two days ago.

Eden entered the small foyer, nodding at the security guard who sat keeping an eye on the garage.

“Good evening, Ms. Merritt,” he said.

“Good evening,” she responded, going over to punch the elevator call button. Normally, she enjoyed chatting with John about his wife and three small kids, but she was as edgy and antisocial now as she’d been all day.

She managed to tease Cheryl about the mail room guy, but Eden had ended up letting her irritation leak out several other times. How the hell did she get rid of this tension? Her shoulders felt tight and rigid and she just wanted to get home.

“Oh, wait,” John said as the elevator arrived with a soft hush and a
ping!
“I have a delivery here for you.”

“For me?” Eden frowned, hesitating. She’d been longing to retreat into her apartment all day. Even this small delay frustrated her. Besides, she hadn’t ordered anything that she could remember.

The elevator door closed without her as she crossed to the security desk.

From behind his tall desk, John pulled a brown-wrapped rectangular package. About eighteen inches tall and nearly a foot long, it was surprisingly heavy.

“What the heck?” She shifted her briefcase strap to a more secure position on her shoulder and glanced down at the weight in her arms. “There’s no return address.”

“No, ma’am,” John agreed with a shrug. “It was messangered over this afternoon. “It kind of smells good or else I’d think it was a bomb or something.”

She lifted the package to nose level and registered a mouth-watering sweet smell. “I’ve never heard of a bomb that smelled like….” Eden sniffed again, the smell familiar. “Peanuts?”

“I don’t know,” the security guard said with another shrug, “but its making me hungry.”

“Me, too.” Eden had worked through lunch and breakfast was a long-ago pint of chocolate milk. Even her hidden refrigerator at the office was bare since she’d been working such long hours.

“Well,” John said with a flash of white teeth and he crossed the small foyer to push the elevator call button for her. “You let me know if you need any help disarming that ‘bomb.’”

Eden laughed a little. “I think I can handle this one on my own.”

Lifting the package, she got into the elevator, smiling her thanks when John reached in and pushed the button for her floor. The wonderful salty-sweet peanut smell made her mouth water. Her stomach protested the long absence of food.

Trudging down the hall to her door, Eden could only think about finding something to eat—hopefully from the mystery package because her kitchen was bare of food—and climbing into her pajamas.

As she went into her condo, kicking the door shut behind her, she dropped the package on the entry table, letting her briefcase slide to the floor.

It had been a hell of a day. With a flicker of anticipation, she ripped open the brown paper wrapping and stared in surprise at what her nose had already informed her. The package consisted of two cartons of Payday bars, taped together, one on top of the other. On the uppermost carton was a note.

Eden,

I love sleeping with you, but I know you’re dealing with a lot right now. If holding off on the physical stuff helps, that’s fine with me. Here are snacks to feed your body. Let me know what you need to feed the rest of you,

Alex

Staring at the bold slashing words on the paper, Eden felt a welling in her chest, her vision growing misty.

Damn him. Damn him for being so…wonderful. She’d never even told him about her Payday fetish. Obviously, he’d been paying attention.

Ignoring the wetness streaming down her cheeks, Eden walked through the dark living area and picked the phone up from its cradle.

It took two rings before Alex answered his cell.

“Alex Holt here.”

“I need you,” she said without preamble. “To feed the rest of me. I need you now. Where are you?”

It made no sense. She knew she shouldn’t see him tonight, knew her will power was weakened by fatigue and hunger, not to mention mental exhaustion. Still, she asked, “Are you at home?”

“No,” he said after a momentary pause, “I’m still at the office. Bryan and I are finishing up some contracts. You got the Payday bars? I thought with all the stress you’re under—“

“You’re at the office?” she said in confirmation, walking quickly back into the entry way to fish her keys out of her briefcase.

“Yes—“

“I’ll be right there,” she said abruptly.

“Okay,” he said, sounding puzzled, but very willing. “I’m almost finished here.”

“I’ll pick you up in front of your building,” she told him, slamming her door behind her.

“Good. I’d love to see you.”

Alex didn’t ask any questions, for which she was grateful. Eden didn’t know how the hell she’d have explained anything to him now. She just knew she felt empty inside. Empty of food, energy, warmth. A large cavern occupied her midsection.

She needed him to fill her up inside.

It wasn’t till the elevator stopped at the parking garage level that she realized she still had her cordless phone in her hand.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Alex ended the phone call and put his cell on the desk. The night-black windows that made up one wall of his office looked directly down on to the snowy street, but he knew he’d be in the lobby at the building doors in twenty minutes, waiting for her.

He’d waited most of his life for Eden, without realizing it.

“You’ve got a funny expression on your face,” Bryan commented, glancing over as he pulled on his suit jacket. “You think there’s a problem with the contract?”

“No.” Alex got up, picking up his own jacket. At this moment, he couldn’t even remember what the hell the contract said.

She wanted to see him, late as it was. He sure as hell wanted to see her. After their intimate night together, after she’d gotten up and left as he slept, he couldn’t be sure what exactly she wanted from him now.

But whatever it was, he would be there for her. He hadn’t created this crappy situation she was in, but he’d heightened her stress. Made it worse. Michele and Wendi were the real culprits, but Alex knew he wasn’t clean himself.

There was this lie between them, and even though Eden didn’t know the truth, he did. Even though everything he was doing now, he did for her, he still shied away from the remembrance of his early behavior.

“So,” Bryan said, his voice taking on the lawyer-tone, “about the Michele Cosmetics project. You’ll have a significant placement of stock before the board meeting. As we planned, you’ll then notify the board that you want to be present at the next session.”

Bryan went on, “Then when you make the board clear on your position and indicate you have the votes, you’ll establish our power in the company first, as usual. We need to talk about whether you want to make a formal buy-out offer or work a seat on the board. You’d said you want to move quickly on the dismantling process—this is really a small operation for us, of course, and we’ve got other irons in the fire. There’s no reason we can’t clear up Michele Cosmetics in a short amount of time. I’ve spoken with Rice. He’s lined up potential buyers for the Michigan plant and the one here and…”