Rescuing Diana (11 page)

He groaned. Even if he managed to think of something, he’d still have to redo the designs. He doubted the hotel would be sympathetic about a dinner date. Hell, he thought. Solomon Grundy’s had great cuisine, and it overlooked the bay.…

An idea popped into his head, and he sat up. “John! What about putting the restaurant and reception rooms on the roof?”

“They’re adamant about no second floor—”

“With gardens, John. A rooftop garden restaurant, completely glass-enclosed. The mall itself could then take up the whole first floor. The restaurant could be larger, yet there still would be some open space. With a great view of the lake—and a little convincing on our part that the hotel patrons wouldn’t be able to resist dining in such beautiful surroundings—I think the hotel might go for it.”

John rubbed his ear for a moment. “They just might.”

“Good. Do me a favor, John. Call them and set up a meeting. I’ll get started on some rough sketches—very rough ones. Be sure to add that, please.” He gave his partner a crooked grin. “I
hope they’re smart enough to realize they’re going to be billed all over again for this.”

“If they ain’t, they soon will be,” John said, and slipped through the door connecting their offices.

As soon as the door closed, Adam reached for the telephone to call Diana. But just as his fingers touched the receiver, the phone rang. Surprised, he lifted the receiver to his ear and said hello.

“Adam? It’s Dan. I can only spare a moment, but I wanted to let you know I’ll be in San Francisco Thursday and Friday on business. Can we get together for dinner?”

Adam grinned. “I can spare a moment to say yes.”

“Great! I’ll call you when I get in and we can pick a spot, okay?”

“Fine.” An image of Diana flitted through his mind, and Adam’s grin widened. “Can I bring a friend?”

“Well … Sure, I guess, if you want to.”

“You don’t sound very enthusiastic about meeting Diana Windsor.”

There was complete silence on the other end of the telephone.

“Dan? Are you there?”

“I think there was something wrong with the phone just then,” Dan finally said. “Did you say Diana Windsor?”

“Yep. You have any objections to that?”

“No, no!” Dan sounded stunned. “Actually, I’d love to meet her. But I thought you were only helping her with her game.”

“I did.” Adam stifled a laugh at taking his brother by surprise. “Anyway, I know she’d like to meet
you. Strictly personal, though, Daniel. And very personal to me. No business.”

“Oh … ah … yes, of course. Adam, is there something going on between you and her?”

“Something. Listen, I won’t keep you. Besides, I’m swamped with work too. Take care, Dan, and call me when you get in. ’Bye.”

He broke the connection before his brother could say his farewells, then called Diana. He was just about to hang up on the twelfth ring when she finally answered.

He heard a faint “Damn! I forgot the answering machine again,” then, louder, “Hello?”

“Hello. This is Adam, a human being who hates to talk to answering machines.”

“Oh! Adam. I’m sorry—”

“I’m the one who’s sorry,” he interrupted gently, “but I’m afraid I can’t make dinner tonight. A hotel we’re designing an annex for just delivered us a disaster. Can we change it to Thursday or Friday?”

“Well … ah …”

He chuckled. “Now you sound like my brother. Actually, that’s why I’d like to know if you’ll be free either of those nights. He’ll be in town then, and I would really like you to meet Dan. I know he’d like to meet you.”

“I see.” There was a long pause, and Adam began to wonder if his phone was broken. At last, her voice came back on the line. “I’m free either of those nights. I think it would be very … appropriate to meet your brother, don’t you?”

He frowned at the stilted coolness of her voice. “Diana, if you don’t want to have dinner with Dan, just say so. I won’t be hurt.”

“Oh, no, Adam. Actually, I’d … love to meet your brother. In fact, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. But I don’t want to intrude. I’m sure you two have a lot to talk about.”

“You’re never an intrusion.…”

When he hung up shortly afterward, Adam couldn’t help grinning. Diana and his brother ought to get along just fine.

Diana hung up the phone and stared at it thoughtfully.

After the confrontation with Jim Griegson yesterday, she’d had enough of her plan. Each time she had thought she’d been starting to make a little progress, she’d run into some unseen barrier. So she’d retreated to her “tower,” knowing she just wouldn’t be capable of handling dinner with Adam, too, that night.

Smiling wryly, she acknowledged that mostly she’d been terrified by the thought of what might happen after dinner. Once fed, her body seemed to have a mind of its own. She’d suspected she’d never be able to withstand another lesson, and had known for sure when he’d kissed her goodbye. She’d felt as if she were standing dangerously close to the edge of a deep precipice, and if she weren’t extremely careful she’d tumble in. A twenty-four-hour respite before facing Adam again had seemed very sensible.

But by agreeing to have dinner with the
brothers
Roberts, she’d moved her plan ahead several stages. Several major stages.

She grimaced, deciding it was more like having dinner with the brothers Knife-in-the-Back. Envisioning
herself sitting between two male vipers, she wondered how she would ever be able to swallow a morsel of food. The opportunity to play them for a couple of suckers, though, was just too tempting to pass up. Still, the situation would require a healthy blending of confidence and sophistication.

“Of which you have scored zippo,” she reminded herself tartly.

If only she had more time, she thought. But it was like being a novice game-player again, with her back against a great locked door, the nasties moving in for the kill, and no key to be had anywhere. The solution usually entailed figuring out some way of taking the nasties by surprise, then outsmarting them. She felt she could handle the outsmarting part, but Adam, unfortunately, had always managed to surprise her. Somehow she had to surprise him, and she needed the weapons with which to do it.

Remembering how out of place she’d felt yesterday among more experienced women, she groaned aloud. Without the right tools she’d feel—and look—just as inadequate as ever.…

Diana blinked.

The woman in the elevator had
looked
sophisticated and confident. The waitress had
looked
sexy.

“That’s the key!” she exclaimed, shaking her fists in triumph.

She’d wanted to acquire sophistication, thinking she’d be more confident and better able to handle Adam. She’d been heading in the right direction yesterday, with her little attempts at enhancing her attractiveness to him, but they hadn’t been drastic enough. And she hadn’t considered matching the inner Diana to the outer one.

If she looked really sophisticated and confident, it was only logical that she’d really feel sophisticated and confident. And it wouldn’t hurt matters if she threw in a bit of sexiness too.

She grinned. Adam wouldn’t know what hit him.

Her grin faded when she realized she had very little knowledge of makeup, hairstyles, or fashion. Then she remembered the light blond streaks in the waitress’s dark hair. They had certainly looked dramatic. And sexy. Might as well start from the top and work down one step at a time, she decided.

The first step in her new plan called for a trip to the local drugstore.

Three hours later Diana stood in front of her bathroom mirror. She’d purchased a premixed hair-streaking kit and had avoided judging the probable result while she’d been applying the solution. She’d wanted to surprise herself with the finished effect. She hadn’t even given in to the temptation to peek after the last rinse. Instead she’d wrapped a towel around her head, turbanstyle. Very carefully she now removed the towel, put on her glasses, and stared at her brand-new image.

She screamed in horror.

Her hair was white! Completely white on top, with big gobs of black underneath. In disbelief she reached up and touched the damp straw disaster she’d created. It was all too real. Maybe it would look better when it was combed out, she thought wildly, her fingers scrambling for the comb.

Tears of frustration and despair welled in her eyes at the resulting vanilla-fudge mass. No doubt
about it, she looked like a zombie from a bad B movie.

Adam would be stunned speechless, all right, she thought. And after that, he’d be laughing hysterically.

With shaking hands she picked up the directions and read them once more, this time in hopes that she’d missed something. She hadn’t. Yet somehow she’d totally botched it.

Her telephone rang. Panic-stricken, she whirled around and stared through the doorway into her bedroom.

She wouldn’t answer it, she decided. It might be Adam, and she just knew he’d be rolling on the floor in hysterics at her hair.…

“Don’t be ridiculous!” she sternly told herself. “He can’t see you through the telephone.”

She walked briskly into her bedroom and picked up the receiver, then slumped in relief when she heard Angelica’s voice.

“Help!” Diana said faintly.

“What’s wrong?”

“My hair. It’s … it’s … it’s … I look like Don King!” she wailed. Covering her face with her hand, she finally gave in to her tears.

“What did you do, Diana?” Angelica asked, cutting through her cousin’s sobs.

At Angelica’s drill-sergeant tone, Diana took several deep breaths to try to calm herself. “I only wanted … to streak it, and …”

In between watery hiccups, she somehow managed to explain everything about Adam, her plan, and the forthcoming dinner with his brother.

“Just hang by the phone, kid, until I call you
back,” Angelica said, then muttered, “Hell of a way to vamp a man.”

“But I don’t want—”

The telephone went dead. Diana sat on her bed and thoroughly cursed herself. She shouldn’t have attempted such a project on her own, but all the advertisements she’d ever seen claimed it was “easy.” The only easy thing had been turning herself into the Bride of Frankenstein. Still calling herself names, she waited impatiently for five minutes, until the telephone rang again.

She snatched up the receiver and said breathlessly, “ ’Lo?”

“Get a hat on your head and your buns in your car and meet me at Le Papillon Salon. You’ve got an appointment there in half an hour. It’s just off Union Square on Post. Got it?”

“Yes. I don’t know how to thank you—”

“Just go now!”

“Gone!”

Diana slammed the phone down and raced out of her bedroom. She prayed early-afternoon traffic would be light over the Bay Bridge.

It was, Barely. She broke all speed limits, and double-parked her car in front of the elegant shop with less than a minute to spare. Her slender, fashionably dressed cousin was already striding around the front bumper of the car.

“I’ll park it,” Angelica said, whipping open the driver’s door. “Just get in there. Raoul’s sarcastic enough when a client’s late, let alone shifting around his appointments for an emergency.”

Nodding, Diana scrambled out of the car. She jammed the wool watch cap farther down over her ears and ran inside.

A short, wiry man stood inside the doorway. His arms were folded across his chest, his foot tapping impatiently.

She skidded to a halt in front of him. “I’m Diana Windsor, Angelica’s cousin—” she began.

“Who cares?” the man said caustically. He was obviously Raoul. “I assume you’re hiding whatever garbage you’ve done to your hair under that ridiculous hat.”

Before she could stop him, he yanked the watch cap from her head.

Raoul screamed in horror.

“But, Raoul, you’re the only one in the city who has the talent to pull her together,” Angelica was saying a short time later.

“The Bay Area,” Raoul corrected her haughtily as he peered at Diana’s reflection in the mirror.

“The West Coast,” Angelica almost purred, and winked at him.

“I want streaks,” Diana said stubbornly from her place in the swivel chair. “Sexy-looking streaks.”

“You see! She’s impossible,” Raoul yelled as Angelica moaned.

“I want streaks,” Diana repeated as forcefully as possible, ignoring her cousin’s strong grip on her shoulder.

“Raoul, surely you can give her streaks, or something,” Angelica said in a soothing voice. “After all, you’re a master craftsman. The best in the country.”

“Welllll …”

Diana kept her mouth shut. She knew a rescue when she saw one. By some miracle, her cousin
had managed to calm down the temperamental hairstylist and wheedle him into agreeing to repair her hair. She was positive Angelica could pull this off too.

“After I put the red pigments back in the hair shafts,” he finally said, “I suppose I could weave the color around some of the already stripped hair. But it will be very difficult.…”

“The price is no problem,” Angelica said. “A complete make-over comes to—what?—about five hundred dollars?”

Diana gasped and bolted upright in the chair.

“And then there’s your bonus.…”

“Trudy! Barbara!” the little dictator suddenly shouted around the booth’s partition. “Ms. Windsor is getting the works!”

With a resigned sigh, Diana sank back down. For the price she was paying, Adam had better be more than stunned into speechlessness.

He’d better pass right out on the floor.