Time After Time (13 page)

Leah made a choking sound and grabbed Charlotte's arm, pulling the brunette into her office and closing the door behind them.

"Sit," she said firmly as she walked around to take her own chair. "Now—would you care to expand on that?"

Charlotte pulled a crumpled tissue from her pocket and blew her nose. "I just woke up this morning and there he was, right there in the bed beside me—" she didn't even pause for breath as the words came in a constant, panicky stream "—and he didn't have any clothes on and his knees are sharp and that must have been what was poking me all night, only I didn't realize it because I thought it was one of those little plastic lumps in the electric blanket and... and..."

She finally paused, gulping for air, her pink eyes wide as she raised her gaze to Leah. "Leah, I can't tell if—I mean, I don't feel like—"

"No," Leah murmured, her voice distracted, her brown eyes blank with astonishment. "With Lester

you probably wouldn't—but Charlotte, even if you..." She paused and wiggled her eyebrows expressively. "Even if you did, why would you think you're engaged to the idiot?"

The brunette frowned. "I don't know. It's just that when he was eating breakfast, he patted me on the behind and said he'd been looking for a good cook and it looked as if he'd finally found one and—"

"You cooked breakfast for him?" Leah asked, her voice indignant.

"Wasn't I supposed to?"

"The man is not looking for a good cook, he's looking for a free ride! And it's not going to be you. Damn it, Charlotte, didn't I tell you not to listen to anyone last night? And it had to be Lester, of all people." She paused, frowning. "Unless you want him." She couldn't keep the distaste from her expression.

"No!" Charlotte exclaimed urgently, jumping to her feet. "What am I going to do? He said since his car was in the shop, we could go home together—he's expecting to go home with me after work!" she said, her voice rising in hysteria. "Oh, what am I going to do?"

"Calm down." Leah began to pace. After a moment she stopped and turned to Charlotte. "Okay, here's what you do. Call him—right now, as soon as you get back to your desk—and tell him what you're going to cook for dinner tonight. Then just casually mention that your parents will be there, too, because they want to meet him." Leah's smile was wicked.

' 'That'll scare the pants off him... or, in this case, back on him."

"Do you really think it'll work?"

"Trust me," she said, pushing the other woman out the door. "Lester will run so fast, he'll put his sharp little knees out of joint."

Charlotte nodded and moved toward her desk; then she stopped and swung back around. "Oh Lord, Leah, I forgot. I was supposed to tell you as soon as you got here that Mr. Gregory wanted to see you right away. There was some kind of foul-up in the newspaper ads."

Leah bit her lip and moved back into her office. She wasn't ready to face him yet, but, on the other hand, the longer she put it off, the longer she would have to worry.

Leah the lionhearted, she thought derisively. Fighting love dragons for Charlotte and Faith. Solving personal problems for all and sundry. And her own personal life was so tangled it would take a Los Alamos computer to unravel it.

She wasn't worried about Paul remembering what had happened the night before—he had forgotten it even before she got out of the cab. What worried her was what she would remember and what she would feel when she saw him again.

When she walked into his office, he looked up and tossed a newspaper across the desk. "Did you see this?"

It took only a glance to see he was furious. And his anger was just what she needed to keep her on an even

keel. Picking up the newspaper, she ran her gaze over the print, then frowned as she spotted the Universal ad. The wrong Universal ad.

"This ad is not supposed to run until just before Christmas," she said in confusion.

"You're very quick, Miss French." His voice was heavy with sarcasm as he leaned back in the chair. "So why in hell is it running today?"

She shook her head, still frowning. "I don't know, but I'll get it straightened out."

"Yes, you will," he said emphatically. "Mr. Rose of the
Morning Star
will see you in his office at ten sharp—and he'd better give you a damn good explanation for this kind of foul-up."

"Yes, sir," she said. "I'll make sure—" She broke off, glancing at the man across the desk. "Mr. Rose?"

"Rose," he repeated impatiently. "If he ran this on orders from the ad agency, just—"

Leah missed the rest of his sentence. The feeling of disorientation became measurably stronger, making it difficult to think. Something was wrong, she told herself. Something he had said about Mr. Rose. She had never met the man; why should his name cause this kind of reaction?

"Miss French!"

She jumped and jerked her head up, meeting Paul's impatient green eyes.

"Are you still here, Miss French?"

"Yes... yes," she murmured, her voice distracted.

"Well, what the hell is wrong with you?" he asked, watching her in bewilderment and frustration.

"Rose," she whispered hoarsely, her eyes widening as a memory began to grow.
"Rose.
Last night you said you were going to send me a dozen roses."

"And you're sulking because I didn't send them?" He shook his head in disbelief.

She moistened her lips nervously. "And then you said—" She broke off and swallowed heavily. "You said, 'Not roses. Roses make you sneeze.'"

"Then it's a good thing I didn't send them," he said shortly. "Now that we've got that settled, can we please get on with this?"

"How did you know roses make me sneeze?" She stepped closer to the desk, her features tense as she kept her gaze trained on his face. "I
never
told you roses make me sneeze."

He threw the pencil down with suppressed violence. "I've had just about enough of this. Why the devil are you babbling on about roses?" He inhaled deeply, and when he spoke again, his voice was composed. "If it will ease your feeble brain, you did tell me that roses make you sneeze."

"No, I didn't," she said in stubborn confusion. "I know I didn't."

"You did," he insisted tightly, leaning toward her as his anger built. "You told me when—"

He broke off abruptly, a stunned look spreading across his features. He passed a hand slowly across his face; then his eyes met hers with watchful wariness. "You told me when I put the daisy in your hair," he finished hoarsely.

Leah began to tremble. The tremors spread rapidly, shaking her whole body. Her eyes darted around the room as she searched for something solid to hold onto.

"Oh, my God," she whispered.
"Oh...my...God."
She backed away from him, her movements slow and awkward. Then, without another word, she whirled around and rushed out of the room.

Chapter Six

... do not haunt me thus.
A Midsummer Night's Dream
—Act II, Scene 2

L
eah raised her face to the sun. As she walked, she lowered her eyelids until her eyes were barely open, so that she could feel more than she could see. The brown cotton sweater she wore with her tan corduroy jeans was light, and the sleeves were pushed up in recognition of the warmth that was at odds with the golden-leafed trees.

The three-acre park next to her apartment building was empty except for a small group of children. The sound of their laughter reached her and made her smile in gratitude. Children's playing and laughing were normal and sane. They somehow helped bring the world back into focus.

Since that first moment in Paul's office, she hadn't allowed herself to think about what had happened, or how it could have happened, or what it would mean to her in the future. She had arranged with one of the other advertising executives to meet with Mr. Rose; then she had walked out of the building without looking back.

For once her apartment hadn't seemed like a refuge from the world. There were too many things there to remind her of the dreams. She had barely had time to change her clothes before the walls began to close in on her.

So she had come here, into the open air of the small park, into the bright daylight and the real world of laughing children. She had no idea how long she had been walking. She simply didn't care.

Leaving the sidewalk, Leah climbed a small rise and sat cross-legged on the grass. Her face was expressionless, her mind free of every thought except the children and the sun shining on her face.

For half an hour, maybe longer, she sat Undisturbed; then, on the edge of her peripheral vision, she caught sight of a man walking across the grass toward her. She didn't turn her head to acknowledge his presence, not even when he sat down beside her.

The silence between them lengthened; then Paul said in a quiet, calm voice, "I was driving away from your apartment when I saw you here."

Leah nodded, keeping her eyes and thoughts on the children below. "That little girl with the black ponytail reminds me of my cousin Alta," she said. "She came

to stay with us one summer—the summer I was six. For weeks before her visit everyone told me how much I was going to love Alta. She could sing like an angel in heaven and dance like a professional and had already won three Little Miss beauty pageants." She paused, then continued in a confiding voice. "You know, I hated my cousin Alta."

He laughed. "That's perfectly understandable. She sounds like the kind of wonder child any normal kid would hate on sight."

"She threw sand in my hair. That's fair—that's what you do when you're six. But when I returned the favor, you would have thought I had just set the torch to Joan of Arc. I spent the rest of the day in my room and didn't get dessert after dinner." She tilted her head to one side thoughtfully. "Strawberry shortcake, which everyone knew was my favorite thing in the whole world."

"And were you then more respectful of Cousin Alta?"

Leah straightened her legs and leaned back, resting her upper body on her arms as she gazed up at the small, high-flying clouds. "I put a lizard down her panties as soon as they let me out of my room." She smiled serenely. "My only regret is that she almost gave the poor lizard a heart attack with her angelic screeches."

When his soft laughter faded, they fell silent again. She could feel him watching her. She could actually feel his gaze on her face, finding and recording each feature.

"You're scared," he said.

Her laugh was breathless and a little weak. "Aren't you? No—don't tell me. I don't want to know. I don't deal in unreasonable principles, but since I'm being forced to deal in them, it will be the unreasonable principle of my choice."

"And that is?"

"It didn't happen," she said flatly. "I wasn't in your office this morning, and therefore nothing could possibly have happened there. That's the unreasonable principle I choose to accept." She drew a shaky breath. Then, disregarding the unreasonable principle of her choice, she said, "I asked Cooper to take care of Mr. Rose."

There was a pause; then, as though he had decided to humor her for a little while longer, he said, "Yes, I know. Cooper can handle it just fine."

She brushed a lock of hair from her forehead. "I don't think it was the newspaper. I think it must have been the ad agency."

"Most likely," he agreed. "We've had trouble with them from the very beginning, but this had better be the last of it." Leah heard him shift, and when he spoke again, his voice was much nearer. "You know, sooner or later, we'll have to talk about this."

"No, we won't," she said tightly. "We don't have to talk about
this
at all. In fact,
this
is right off my list of things to talk about."

She rose quickly to her feet, and after brushing the grass from her pants, shoved her hands in her pockets. Then, for the first time since he had found her, she

looked at Paul. He had taken off his jacket and tie before he joined her. His white shirt was open at the neck, and the sleeves were rolled up, exposing tanned forearms.

Leah frowned at him. He was too casual. It was simply one more thing to throw her off balance, and she didn't like it one bit.

"Mr. Gregory," she said, bracing herself to meet his gaze, "I think I'd like you to leave me alone now."

He didn't stand. He tilted his head back and stared up at her silently, those green eyes still poking and prying, making her uneasy. Then, finally, he spoke.

"I can't be Mr. Gregory anymore, Leah," he said. His voice was so incredibly gentle, it brought the sting of tears to her eyes. "It has to be Paul now."

She bit her lip, then shook her head in violent denial. With awkward movements, she turned and walked away, leaving him staring after her.

Paul watched until Leah was out of sight; then he stood and walked back to his car. His face was expressionless as he drove north toward his own home.

Fifteen minutes later he stood in the large living room, looking around as though it were the first time he had ever seen it. It wasn't the house he had lived in with Diane. After her death he had bought this place, hoping that a new environment would seem less empty. It hadn't worked.