Double-Cross My Heart (39 page)

It was all so damned tiring. Her head ached and her body ached and she couldn’t sleep, couldn’t do anything but remember Cheryl and her daughter and the mailroom guy who supported his mother. Then there was Joe in marketing and Doyle, who certainly needed his health care coverage after his accident, and that frizzy-headed secretary on the third floor who was always cracking her chewing gum when she rode the elevator…. So many people to be hurt…to be saved by her choices.

Even if she wanted to lie down and stay down, it felt like she couldn’t, for their sakes.

Swinging her racquet again as the blue ball flew toward her, Eden’s tired arm missed and the racquetball thumped against her hip. It bounced back, dropping to the floor in a series of little bounces.
Thump, thump, thump.

Standing in the middle of the white cube, the light overhead glaring, Eden gasped for breath.
I’m basically a good person,
she thought, stumbling back against the court wall.
How did I get into this hell?

And, what, if anything, could she do to get out of it?

***

Pulling into her parking space at work the next morning, her head splitting from lack of sleep, her entire body tensed to face the meeting ahead, Eden found herself frowning in confusion at the parking spot next to her.

Wendi’s spot—closest to the elevator—was filled by a large, bulky SUV instead of her shiny Mercedes.

Around Eden, other cars were arriving, as the work day revved to a start, only this day was much more than a usual day. Today, the board would meet and this company would never be the same.

The parking garage seemed to tremble with the combined movement of vehicles and a fiercely gusting winter wind. Even through her closed car windows, the echo of voices could be heard as co-workers exchanged comments as they hurried to the elevators. Things like pivotal board meetings didn’t have the same impact on the average worker.

Putting on her emergency brake as she considered the black SUV in the spot next to her, Eden felt a wry smile twist her lips. She wouldn’t have thought Wendi was the SUV-type, but maybe she just liked the imposing size of the thing.

With a mental shrug, Eden turned off the Z4’s engine and gathered her briefcase, a heavy sense of fatalism clinging to her.

Soon it would all be over.

Getting out of the car, lost in her thoughts, she hoisted the strap of her case over her shoulder and tried to pull her coat together against the frigid wind.

The driver’s side door of the SUV in Wendi’s spot opened just then.

With the bulk of the large vehicle between Eden and the elevators, she pasted on her best Wendi-smile as she rounded the back of the SUV, still clutching her coat together.

Wendi was really insignificant, she told herself to slow the automatic increase of tension in her body. Lifting her head to acknowledge her former competitor, Eden felt her smile freeze on her face.

“Alex!”

He stood next to the black SUV, clearly waiting for her, looking both imposing and gorgeous. Despite every harsh word between them, she couldn’t help the hungry leap of her heart, the urgency with which her gaze clung to him.

“And what are you doing here?” she asked in an unsteady voice, but just as quickly as the question was out of her mouth, she knew.

He was here to expose her.

Involuntarily, Eden glanced back at the other Michele employees arriving to work. An intense anxiety gripped her. Was there anyone in the garage who would recognize him?

“I need to talk with you,” Alex said implacably.

“Get out of here!” she hissed. The board meeting wasn’t scheduled for several more hours, at ten o’clock that morning, but Eden was suddenly flooded with fear of exposure what with being seen with him. “Listen, I don’t know what you’re here to threaten me with, but it doesn’t matter. I’ve already made up my mind.”

Her body tense, she braced herself to meet his gaze. It didn’t matter that one, sick part of Eden craved the sight of him. Still, she hated that he’d come here this way. She didn’t want her involvement revealed like this—a secretive meeting to be whispered about—but she couldn’t tear her gaze away from his strong, broad-shouldered form.

Responding to her words, he said, “I’m only here because you’ve refused to talk to me any other way.”

He stood next to the black s.u.v., his overcoat open to reveal a dark, beautifully-tailored suit. He looked every inch the marauding, all-powerful corporate raider. Every powerful, wonderful inch of him delectable and forbidden.

“Will you just go?” she demanded angrily, very aware of the eyes all around them.

“I’m not leaving,” he told her, “so you’d better hear me out.”

The ringing sound of laughter as footsteps drew nearer grabbed Eden’s anxious attention. She was torn between her own crazy, insane impulse to throw herself into his unwelcoming arms and an equally powerful urgency to hide her involvement with him. No one could know! Not yet!

“Please,” she said, her voice low. “I’ll meet you somewhere. Just go away now--”

“No,” he interrupted. “I know you want to get rid of me, but you’ve got to hear me out. It won’t take long.”

“I know you’re here to get me fired—“ she started to say, shifting sideways in a futile attempt to hide him from the people walking to the elevator.

“No, I’m not,” he said with emphasis.

“—but, if you’ll just go, I swear I’ll meet you.” She stopped, his words sinking in. “You’re not trying to get me fired? Then why the hell are you--”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” he hurried to say, lowering his voice and turning his back to the chattering group of three or four women who were walking past.

“What have you been trying to tell me?” She frowned at him, confused and wounded in her realization that she didn’t think she’d ever stop loving this man. No matter what he did. In this sickening, heart-wrenching moment, she knew her mother’s weakness.

“I’m not going to get you fired,” he said flatly. “And I’m not making a bid to takeover Michele Cosmetics. I’m calling off the dogs.”

“What?” she asked, shocked.

Another pair of footsteps and voices passed them, but she suddenly didn’t care.

“Dammit,” he said, his voice even lower as he glanced at the Michele employees walking by. “You picked this spot. I tried to make contact some other way, but this was my only option.”

Her heart beating so fast she felt nauseated, Eden said, “You’re
not
going to try to get control--”

“No,” he said, not letting her finish. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since last Wednesday—“

A huge surge of relief flooded over her as his words began to absorb into her brain. She said, repeating stupidly, “You’re not here for the board meeting?”

Another cluster of chattering Michele employees crowded by them, headed to the elevator. A car drove past noisily, climbing to the higher garage levels.

“Dammit,” Alex swore again. Reaching out he took hold of her by the sleeve of her coat and drew her as far out of the path of traffic as he could. With low-voiced urgency, he said, “I came here this morning to tell you two things. Not only am I not making a bid for the company, I don’t think you should either. Don’t do this. Don’t go through with your plan to over-throw Michele. It’s not worth it, Eden. Don’t make yourself over into Wendi Williams.”

Not even looking over as a pair of cars drove past, Eden gaped at him. “What?”

“Shit!” he said, raking one hand through his hair. “Don’t do this, Eden. Don’t sell your soul for this company. You were right about me. I’ve spent my life making money off of other people’s failures. That’s not always a bad thing, but this plan of yours—it’s wrong for you, honey. Wrong. You may not feel an attachment to Michele anymore—“

The last was said in an even more urgent under-voice.

“—but you need to think about how you want to live your life. I know I was a part of getting you started in this direction,” he said, his face dark with self-blame. “But you need to think about what you’re doing. Do you really want to knife Michele in the back to get this company? Because that’s what you’re doing, honey. She deserves it, but you don’t deserve to be the one doing it. Trust me, it won’t make you happy. You’ve been upset and tense and sad!”

Regarding Alex with a baffled gaze, she stood mute, a flush of tangled emotion making her tremble. “Alex, I’m not—“

Behind Eden, a horn blared.

Glancing around, she saw Wendi Williams’s Mercedes blocking the garage way, her car window rolled down.

“That’s my spot!” Wendi called out, glaring at Alex. “Do you mind moving?”

Although phrased as a question, the other woman’s imperious tone left no room for disagreement. A group of people standing waiting for the elevator turned to look at Eden and Alex.

“Don’t do it, honey,” Alex urged, letting go of her arm. “Don’t do something you’ll regret.”

“I’m not—“

Wendi’s horn blared again.

“You have to move!” she yelled out again from the Mercedes.

Alex yanked open the door of Bryan’s black SUV. With a quick glance back at Eden, he climbed in and started the engine.

As he backed up out of Wendi’s parking spot, his driver’s window rolled down and he looked Eden in the face. “You’re too good a person to sell-out for a job. No matter who it is, no one is worth you changing who you are. You deserve to be happy.”

Putting the s.u.v. in gear, he drove away.

Staring after the him, Eden hardly noticed Wendi pulling into the parking spot he’d vacated.

“You need to tell your
friend,”
Wendi said sarcastically, “to stay out of my parking spot.”

With a swish of her full cashmere coat, Wendi stalked toward the elevators. Not appearing to notice as the crowd of workers parted for her, she walked past them all and got into the elevator.

Eden stood next to her little Z4, a smile curling her mouth for the first time in days.

Turning toward the elevators, she took her place in the now-shortened line of Michele employees waiting for the elevator.

Her decision had been made. Now there was nothing to be done, but face the yelling and screaming.

Strange
, she thought to herself,
he makes it easier for me.

CHAPTER TWENTY

“They’re all in the board room,” Cheryl said, curiosity all over her face. “You told me to let you know when all the board members were present. Mr. Klineman just arrived. I put the folders you gave me at each board member’s place.”

“Thanks,” Eden said, drawing in a long breath. She’d deliberately stayed in her office, preferring to avoid conversation like a general who prepared for battle alone.

Taking a moment to quell the nerves in her stomach, she got up and left her office. She knew what she needed to do, but she wished very much to be on the other side of the task. To have it over and done with was all she wanted now.

The hall that led to the executive board room at Michele Cosmetics had never seemed so long. Pausing a fraction of a second outside the heavy double doors, she took another deep breath and stepped inside.

All conversation in the room ceased at the interruption and a dozen heads swiveled toward her.

With a small tense smile, Eden stepped into the board room, pulling the door shut behind her.

“May I please address the board?” she asked, a calm sense of purpose filling her despite the knots in her stomach.

Michele, sitting at the head of the conference table, frowned, saying, “We have an agenda to accomplish, Eden. Is this necessary?”

“I’m afraid it is,” Eden said, conscious of a heavy regret, “but it will only take a few minutes.”

Standing at the foot of the slab of mahogany that was the conference table, Eden suppressed the feeling of being a criminal facing her jury.

“Fine, but let’s not waste everyone’s time,” her boss said with a hint of almost maternal indifference.

Seated to Michele’s right, in a chair slightly behind the older woman, Wendi smirked at Eden.

Eden was very aware of Sarah Briggs and Sol Klineman sitting on her left, their faces turned toward her.

Stiffening her spine, she said bluntly, “There are some things I need to make you all aware of.”

Seeing several frowns in reaction to her words, Eden went on, “When I was hired by this company twelve years ago, I was not completely honest on my job application. I neglected to answer honestly that I have a relative who works in this industry. George Thompson, the principle stockholder in Beauty By Georgette, is my maternal uncle.”

She paused, refusing to avoid the startled looks coming her way. No matter the repercussions, she knew she had to do this.

It didn’t do any good to think about the Michele employees. She finally concluded she couldn’t sell her soul for herself and she couldn’t do it for everyone else.

“Damn,” said Dave Sanders, raising his eyebrows as he placed his expensive Mont blanc pen on the table in front of him.