CardsNeverLie (26 page)

“No, you can stay,” she backtracked, remembering he was her
boss, not just Rob.

“It’s okay, Melanie. I want you to focus right now.”

Melanie opened her mouth to protest that she was focused,
but he was already walking away. She consoled herself with admiring his rear
view in tight taupe pants. Shifting uneasily in her chair, she dropped her
pizza slice back into the box. Her hunger had vanished.

Wiping her greasy hands on a napkin, she rolled herself over
to the drawing board. Twenty minutes later she had a sketch of a woman in a
black robe and black wings standing over a man in white boxer shorts. Something
was wrong with the picture. She studied it for a moment then smiled and began
to sketch.

Now the man had little devil faces on his undershorts. What
woman wouldn’t find that appropriate? Grinning, she tucked it behind her usable
sketches and refocused on costume ideas. Earlier in the day she had researched
the costume warehouse’s offerings on their website. She was pretty sure
LeatherWorks could charge them less for the same quality or better. Some of her
wilder ideas might work for high-end costume shops as well, for the Hollywood
and costume ball market. LeatherWorks was a small company. This product line
ought to be enough to keep everyone employed.

* * * * *

A couple of hours later, Rob leaned back in his leather
executive chair, too tired to get up and go home. He wondered idly who made his
chair and who supplied the leather. He got down on his hands and knees to check
the label.

His mind wandered, as it often did, to thoughts of Melanie.
He could have made a meal of simply staring at her full breasts under the
low-cut navy T-shirt she wore. He had touched those breasts, tasted them,
suckled them. He wanted to do those things again. Soon.

He rested his cheek on the floor and thought about going
back downstairs and seducing her on her worktable. But if he did, they’d end up
spending the night making love and she wouldn’t be ready for her mysterious and
important meeting the next day. Life sucked.

“Calm down, Mr. Rob,” he admonished the unruly part of him
that wanted him to forget about Melanie’s meeting and get down to the real
business at hand. “This is not the night for your care and feeding.”

He needed a plan. At first, when the company was going to be
lost, he had a six-month plan. In six months he and Melanie would both be out
of work and then he could have her. But now he had the company and even the
woman’s presence, but not where he wanted her. It was enough to make a man
crazy, but he had to let her focus.

Soon enough, against his better judgment, he dialed her
extension. “I am the CEO, you know,” he said into the receiver. “I have a right
to know what you’re doing with company resources.”

Melanie laughed. “You have to trust my instincts.”

“At least you’re happy,” he said, glad to hear her laugh.

“I’m being productive.”

He grimaced. “So I should let you go?”

“Mmm, hmm.”

“Oh all right, I’ll let you go.”

“Thank you,” Melanie said primly. “See you around.”

“Keep up the good work!” Rob hung up, picked up his
briefcase and headed over to his grandfather’s house to check in. He needed
something to do with himself.

* * * * *

After a few days of sketches and shopping for fabric,
Melanie was ready to talk to the seamstress, Tim’s mother Dagmar.

The faint smell of mold in the dimly lit hall didn’t give
her a great feeling of confidence as she walked down to the studio. She had to
admit she was a bit nervous about presenting her ideas in their entirety. The
heavyset, faded blonde woman of late middle years who awaited her didn’t
increase her confidence either.

“We’re moving away from leather?” the seamstress asked
skeptically from her seat at a sewing table. Her taste in clothing was a world
away from her son’s. The neatly fitted yellow checked dress she wore showed
evidence of her skill, though it couldn’t entirely disguise her figure flaws.

“No, not at all, Dagmar, we’re just trying to move away from
the sex toys,” Melanie assured her.

“Well,” Dagmar said, turning off her machine and tucking a
partially finished mask away, “anything that allows me to keep my job.”

Melanie moved to the worktable and spread out her sketches.
The first was the one with the dark angel and man in boxers. Then she showed a
colored-pencil drawing of a medieval queen in a blue gown with an intricate
Celtic-patterned leather belt. A king with leather boots, vest and short black
cape came next. Then a man who wore hose and a short leather jacket that
skimmed the tops of his thighs. Her sexy magician in tight white leather pants,
vest and a scarlet robe came next. A blonde girl sat in a purple shift with a
black leather bodice. A warrior woman with hose laced up by black strips with a
short gray leather dress came last. Dagmar pored over the sketches,
particularly studying the ones with close-ups of shoes, belts and headgear.

She smiled broadly and clapped Melanie on the shoulder.
“When do I get started?”

Melanie’s knees felt weak with relief at the woman’s
acceptance of her ideas. Her smile, so similar to her son’s, made all the
difference in her confidence level. “Let me run upstairs and get my fabric
samples.

Dagmar nodded. “I’ll start working on the patterns.”

When Melanie got back, she handed over the fabric samples
one by one, explaining what sketch they were meant for. As she handed over the
white fabric she had hand-stenciled with tiny devils, Dagmar’s eyes twinkled.

“You must have quite a lover to come up with those.”

Melanie sat down at the table, too shocked to stand. “No,”
she managed to say.

“What’s wrong?” Dagmar asked, leaning over her.

Melanie shook her head, embarrassed by her reaction.

Dagmar clucked and patted her shoulder. “How about some
steamed milk? That always makes me feel better.”

Melanie looked up in surprise to see Dagmar walk over to a
fancy Italian-made espresso machine. She pulled milk out of a sleek
under-counter refrigerator and poured some into a measuring cup, then added syrup
from a glass bottle.

“You have a great work area,” Melanie observed.

Dagmar turned around and winked. “That Rob knows how to keep
postponing my retirement. I make a threat, I get a new toy.”

“I guess I need to learn negotiating skills from you.”

“You have youth and beauty, Melanie. Those are all the
negotiating skills you need.”

“Hmmmf,” Melanie replied, letting her head drop into her
hands.

The milk made a sloshing noise in the cup as Dagmar’s
skillful hands turned it. The room took on the homey odor of vanilla as the
milk heated.

“You wouldn’t think this would taste good during a September
heat wave,” Melanie observed as she sipped Dagmar’s offering.

“This room never warms up,” Dagmar responded, sitting down
with a second mug.

“Then why don’t you threaten your way into a room upstairs?”

Dagmar smiled. “I like it down here. I’m hot-blooded. And
it’s quiet.”

“People do have a habit of popping into my workroom
upstairs,” Melanie admitted. “It’s very distracting.”

“Is your lover one of them?” Dagmar asked, sitting down
across from Melanie.

Melanie grimaced. “If you can call a one-night stand man a
lover.”

“I hope this man isn’t my son,” Dagmar muttered and asked,
“He discarded you?”

Melanie pursed her lips. “No and it isn’t Tim. We had
problems and had to separate for a while.” Dagmar patted her hand as Melanie
blurted, “But he’s so cold and professional. I’m afraid all he cares about is
his company and what I can do for it. Oh Dagmar, he was warm before. I miss
that.”

The older woman put her elbow on the table and rested her
chin in her hand. “Men tend to have one-track minds, my dear. You had his mind
on sex for a little while and now it’s on business.”

“You think I need to get Rob’s mind back on sex?” Melanie
looked up in horror when she realized, from Dagmar’s lag in the conversation,
that she had spilled the beans. Hesitantly, she met the older woman’s eyes, but
Dagmar didn’t look surprised.

“He’s quite a catch, that one,” Dagmar observed.

“He’s hot,” Melanie agreed, glad Dagmar wasn’t judging her.
“And a lot of other things, but I don’t want him to get the upper hand. If I
let him know how much I want him, he’ll have control. And he’s good at
controlling too.”

“You’re afraid of being vulnerable?”

“I had a bad experience with a strong man.”

Dagmar stood too and came up to her. “What are you afraid
of? That he’ll treat you like a slave instead of a partner?”

“I do work for him now and I really need the job.” She
sniffed.

“He doesn’t strike me as the type to treat a woman badly.”

“Ha!” Melanie said and pushed her hair out of her face. “All
he really wants is for me to work here. To save the company.”

“You really believe that?”

“Why not? I haven’t seen him in days.” Melanie looked around
the room as she thought. Like the hallway upstairs, framed photos of products
lined the walls, though in this case they only showcased the products and
weren’t artistic marketing photos. But still, they reminded her of the heat of
that one night. Passion, not manipulation, had ruled him that night. But that
didn’t make passion his only motivation.

“The company is being sold. He did tell you that when you
were hired, right?” Dagmar asked cautiously.

“Of course, Rob wouldn’t have misled me,” Melanie said,
refocusing her attention. “But actually the sale is off.”

“I see.” Her lips quirked.

Melanie stared at Dagmar through damp lashes, wishing the
older woman had something useful to offer her. But maybe there was nothing to
say. After all, Melanie was right about Rob, wasn’t she?

Chapter Eighteen

“I worked overtime all weekend making patterns,” Dagmar said
in Rob’s office on Monday morning. Tim had a habit of letting his mother into
his office before Rob had even had his first cup of coffee. Usually their
conversation turned out to be the most valuable part of his day.

“So we’ll be ready for the board meeting on Thursday?” Rob
took a sip of his coffee. Thank God he had Dagmar to count on. Without her he’d
have had no idea what Melanie was up to. “You think her ideas are sound?”

“Absolutely,” Dagmar said with conviction. “The girl has
taste. Except in men perhaps.”

“Oh really?” Rob said, stiffening in his chair.

“Don’t get snippy with me, Rob. I’ve known you since you
were this high.” Dagmar held her hand up to desk height.

“I’m not getting snippy. I’m just surprised you know about
us.”

Dagmar rolled her eyes, reminding him she was all knowing.
“What do you think about this one?”

“I can’t get her out of my mind,” Rob admitted. “But we’re
on hold. She’s too busy to be bothered right now.”

Dagmar shook her head. “You’re a devil, my boy. A woman
never considers her lover a bother. You’re the one with the commitment
problem.”

Rob stood up, startled, and dropped his coffee mug on his
desk, spilling a little onto his planner. He leaned toward her, hands braced on
the desk. “What did I do?”

“Melanie doesn’t think you really need her.”

“Of course I need her,” he protested.

“Why? Because you’re going to sell the business if she
doesn’t come up with a better product line?”

“Maybe.”

Dagmar dropped a stuffed envelope onto his desk. “Devil
boy,” she muttered and stalked from the office.

“Wait a minute,” Rob said, following her, but stopped as he
saw Tim’s inquiring eyes. He gritted his teeth and backtracked into his office.

Dropping into his chair with a force that sent the legs
skittering a couple of inches backward, he picked up the envelope. What did
Dagmar expect him to say? His company and employees meant the world to him. He
and Melanie were a team now, with shared goals. Surely LeatherWorks meant as
much to her. He opened the envelope.

When he saw the contents, his jaw dropped. White boxers,
with red devil heads. The horns were black and the tongue stuck out obscenely.
Who in the hell had come up with this design?

More importantly, why had Dagmar given them to him? If this
was Melanie’s idea for a new product line, they might as well close their doors
now.

He sat back and studied them more closely. Of course, they
were kind of hot, in a demented way…

* * * * *

“Ladies and gentlemen of the board,” John Black said in a
voice much weaker than in previous meetings, “we have come to a crossroad.”

Rob shifted in his chair, noticing his fellow board members
were similarly discomforted. He had known for four days what Melanie had
planned for her presentation, but even he felt like he sat on pins and needles.

“The gossip mill is true,” his grandfather continued. “I
have passed the reins to my grandson.” He thumped his fist on the podium.
“LeatherWorks will remain in the Black family for another generation.”

The ten people in the room applauded loudly. John Black
nodded his head, still regally covered in a lion’s mane of pure white hair. At
times like these Rob could see the ghost of the Whipmaster shining through his
tired body. How could such a spirit dim?

“However, my grandson and I agree the company needs to be
reinvented for these modern times and my grandson will now give us a hint into
what he has planned.”

If anything, the applause became louder as Rob stood and
gave his grandfather a hug. After a moment of stiff surprise, John Black hugged
him back. Rob squeezed his eyes shut as he noticed how weak his grandfather’s
grip had become and resolved to continue to spend their free time together
before the old man slipped away.

“Thank you, Grandfather,” Rob said. He grasped the podium in
both hands. He didn’t have notes, but he knew the words would pour out.
“LeatherWorks is built on family.”

He paused as applause rang out again. “Our current product
line has, no doubt, served to aid in building a few families over the years.”
Rob smiled as everyone laughed. “Am I right, Todd?” He pointed to his second
cousin, whose new wife’s pregnancy had just been announced. Todd waved him away
and blushed.

“I think we have more to offer the world. And I think we can
grow our business, make it more successful and build job and financial security
for everyone who is part of our family.” He looked at the nods moving down the
table like a wave.

“With your approval, we’re going to take one of our niche
products and move into the mainstream. Costuming is the wave of our future. Soon,
I predict, Oscar-winning movies will be featuring the LeatherWorks brand of
costumes.”

“Excellent,” John Black said approvingly.

“We are going to expand our basic palette of materials, at
least in terms of finished goods. Melanie has been working with Dagmar and as
you all know, she wouldn’t approve anything that wasn’t of the finest quality.”
Tim, the employee representative on the board, laughed with approval at this
characterization of his mother.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Melanie Vanderpool.” Rob walked
around the table and opened the door of the conference room.

Rob’s hand dropped away from the doorknob as he saw her, a
heaven-sent vision in a low-cut purple shift covered by a worked leather
bodice. She had looked fabulous in purple back in Las Vegas and she didn’t
disappoint now. Melanie smiled as she saw him and turned around. “Black” was
embossed onto the back of the bodice.

She turned back and held out her arms. “Like it?”

Rob beamed with pride. She was on his team for sure. “Yes.”
He felt the tightening underneath his slacks and wondered if he remained decent
enough to return to the conference room. Melanie’s eyes moved down and as she
tilted her head back up to meet his eyes, she licked her lips.

“I’m nervous,” she told him. “This is really important.”

Rob shook his head, feeling almost dizzy. His voice came out
husky. “You have no idea.”

“I don’t?”

He moved toward her, but before he could put his arms on her
shoulders, Dagmar, who stood behind his dream girl, gave Melanie a little push.
Melanie moved to the side of him, out of his grip and fiddled with the flowers
formed into a crown around her head.

“You look like a pagan priestess,” Rob said.

Melanie’s smile put sunshine into his heart. “Thank you,
Rob. That’s exactly the look I was going for. Shall I go in?”

“Yes. They’re waiting for you.”

She bent to pick up her laptop. The skirt was tight enough
to give Rob a view of her slim waist and abundant backside. The thought struck
him that he couldn’t live without her, wasn’t meant to.

She turned to him as she went into the room. “You make me
proud,” he said.

Melanie smiled again. “Thank you.”

She walked into the room with him following behind her.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” she said as she reached the podium.
“It is my great pleasure to offer you a new vision of LeatherWorks.”

Melanie smiled and twirled around during the applause then
curtseyed. “This costume I’m wearing has been commissioned by the Seattle Model
Theater. As you can see, leather goods will remain a key component of our
business. After all, it’s our specialty.”

She turned around more slowly this time and stopped with her
back to the table, pausing for the applause that restarted when people noticed
the embossing on the back of the bodice.

Rob suddenly felt sure that LeatherWorks would remain his,
would remain a company he could pass on to another generation someday. Since he
was the only heir in this generation, it was his job to build the next.
Melanie’s words gradually began to blur into one another as his wayward
imagination slowly stripped off her bodice, then the tight purple dress. He
imagined the loving acts he would have to perform to put a baby under it.

When the speech was over, the board crowded around to ask
questions of Melanie and to shake the hands of Rob and his grandfather. John
Black took all the comments with ease, as if he had known what was coming.
Perhaps he had. After all, the last weeks had taught Rob that there was a lot
of spying going on in the business world.

After half an hour, the crowd thinned to Melanie, deep in conversation
with one of the board members, a vice president of a chain of craft stores. Rob
walked over to his grandfather who sat with Dagmar.

“She’s a smart girl, son,” John Black spoke.

“Thank you.”

“I understand you have a personal relationship with her
too.”

Rob slitted his eyes at Dagmar who smiled innocently.

“I approve,” his grandfather said gruffly.

“You do?” Rob had just opened his mouth to make his
apologies for unprofessional behavior, as if his grandfather could talk.

“Yes. She’s good for us. And as successful as she’s going to
make LeatherWorks, I’d suggest you promote her as soon as possible. Give her no
incentive to go.”

“Give her every incentive to stay,” Dagmar said pointedly.

“Exactly. Take her to dinner tonight, in fact. Give her the
good news. Give her tomorrow off even. If she’s put in as many hours as Dagmar
for this presentation, she needs a long weekend to recover.”

“I don’t have time to take her to dinner, sir. I was going
to take you home.”

“Don’t worry about me, son. Dagmar and I are going to have a
nice Italian meal downtown.”

“Are you sure that’s wise?”

“We’ll be fine, Rob.” Dagmar nodded at him, giving him a
nonverbal assurance that she understood his grandfather’s condition. “You run
along and persuade Melanie to throw in her oar with us for the long term.”

“Fine,” Rob said and turned away. Melanie was now nowhere to
be seen. He went down the back stairs and checked her workroom, but she wasn’t
there, nor in the lunchroom. Her car was still in the parking lot though.

Feeling grumpy, he stomped back upstairs to his office.

Melanie had remained on the second floor all along. He found
her in his office in front of the picture of the blonde woman wearing a corset.
If it weren’t for the purple shift, she could be the photograph come to life.
Desire crashed through him, not just for her body but for every part of her
being.

“Trying to decide if it still turns you on?” Rob asked,
testing her mood to see if he might get a chance to express his love for her
that evening.

Melanie didn’t move, but she responded, “I designed my own
without coming back to look at the photo. I was just curious to see how close
I’d come to the original.”

“Why’d you emboss my name on the back?”

Melanie sighed. “I’d like to tell you I thought it would be
kitschy, but my subconscious would say you marked me that night and I’ll never
see another corset without thinking of you.”

She took a step to the right of the picture and leaned
against the wall with her arms behind her. As she tilted her face up to him,
Rob noticed what a stubborn chin Melanie had.

He couldn’t lose this woman. “You’d better stay around,” he
blurted. “Grandfather would be furious with me if I let you go.”

“Oh yeah?” Melanie didn’t appear to be very impressed by his
words.

Rob nodded. “You’re getting a promotion tonight. And a
raise. And tomorrow off.”

Melanie’s eyes widened. “No way!”

“Yes way.”

She looked at the floor. “I can’t believe it. If you only
knew how many pep talks I’ve had to give myself these past few days to keep
going.”

“They must have helped. You did an amazing job.”

She grinned.

“Another thing.”

“Yes?”

Rob put his hands in his pockets and leaned toward her. “I
was ordered to take you to dinner to congratulate you. What do you say?”

Melanie’s happy expression dimmed. “I wish you were just
asking me to dinner for my own sake, instead of being forced to do it.”

“C’mon, Melanie, you know I like taking you out.” Rob knew
his words weren’t enough. But she was asking for an awful lot from a workaholic
like him, who had the reinvention of a company to manage. Did she think her own
long days were over now? If so she was very wrong. They had to learn to mix
business with pleasure. But that was enough worry for one night. “How about
Masala?”

Melanie considered. “Hmmm…spicy. I guess I could do with a
little spice in my life. Sure, why not?”

“Great. Let’s go.” Rob jiggled his keys in his pocket.

She narrowed her eyes. “I have to change first.”

“No, you don’t.” Had she no idea how enticing she looked in
that costume?

“Rob!” She exclaimed.

Rob didn’t think she was truly very horrified. “You look so
hot in that getup.”

Melanie put her hands on her hips. “This is a
congratulations dinner for my promotion, not foreplay. And, by the way, I
expect full details regarding said promotion.”

Rob took a deep breath. He had to be persuasive. Spreading
out his hands to indicate he hid nothing, he said, “We have the product ideas
now, but we still need customers. You’re advertising for us when you go out
looking so well. And of course we’ll get to the details.”

Melanie pursed her lips. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You’d
better not be promoting me to company model.”

“Think of all the men who will hit on you! You can give them
business cards!”

Melanie threw up her hands in mock horror. “I can’t believe
we’re having this conversation! Are you trying to pimp me or what?”

“No.” Rob put his hand lightly on her arm and caressed the
silky purple fabric. “You know I’d rather keep you all to myself. And besides,”
he said, feeling emotion thickening his voice, “I can’t help it. No time we’re
together is ever going to be simply about our work.”