Homecoming (13 page)

“What about at your job?”

“I think my secretary suspects, but she’s one of those rare people who enjoys making the boss look good no matter what it takes. She’s really something. So dedicated. She’s a single mother, too, and her son has learning processing disabilities—she’s talked the company President into sponsoring a mentoring organization her son Daniel belongs to. I ended up trying to help him—I couldn’t say no; I owed her so much.”

“Did you like it?”

“I was miserable at it—chip off the old Randall block, I’m afraid. I tried, but I just wasn’t good at it.”

“I’m sure your secretary appreciated the effort.”

“I really wanted it to work. He’s a great kid.”

“You really care about her, don’t you?”

“I do. She’s my foundation and my fortress. Keeps my life running like clockwork, diverts all the paperwork that would drown me if she wasn’t there, takes notes at all the meetings I go to. She’s a real marvel—I wouldn’t be where I am today without her.”

“What about your laptop—you were so angry about not being able to use it.”

“Like I said, I can read and write—it just takes a tremendous amount of effort and time. When I first started working at Think Tank, I spent half my salary on tutors. I immersed myself in one-on-one computer classes so I’m comfortable with it as far as using email and finding documents I need, but that’s about it.”

Cory pulled the note from the pocket of her jeans and read it to him. When she looked up from the paper, Jake had one elbow on the chair’s arm, his hand rubbing his forehead.

He felt miserable not knowing what kind of emergency his assistant was dealing with, hoping like crazy it had nothing to do with her son. She had relatives out east, so maybe it was something simple that simply required her personal attention.

“I type, you know.” Cory’s cheerful voice interrupted his thoughts.

“What?”

“You could dictate and I can take down the speech. We can always use the library to find information or if it’s on your laptop, I can help you look. And maybe we could drive around and find a spot in town where your wireless connection will work. I know Sara would let me print something from a flashdrive at the library—I’ll help you memorize the speech.”

She was making it sound easy. Could he just fall into the old, comfortable relationship of working on a project with her? He’d have to. What other choice did he have?

None. He wouldn’t call Rod and say he couldn’t do the speech. By Cory’s description of Rod’s evasiveness, he was certain that’s exactly what he hoped would happen.

No. Rather than give Rod any satisfaction, he’d take Cory’s help, and gladly.

“When you left here, Jake, where did you go?”

“I just drove for a while, down to the end of the peninsula.” He watched her finger her glass, licking her lips in that way that was starting to make his jeans fit too tight. God, she was beautiful. And she was right there, ready to rescue him once again.

He cleared his throat then told her, “Okay. We’ll start on the speech first thing tomorrow.” He chugged the last of his wine and took the glass with him into the kitchen to rinse, then made his way upstairs.

He knew he needed to leave temptation behind him.

One must love a cat on its own terms.

Paul Gray

Chapter 8

“Okay, Mr. Think Tank, once more with feeling.”

Jake mimicked Cory’s eye-roll and added an exaggerated groan. The day before, they’d used the library’s fax machine to send in the speech to Mr. Shelton’s secretary, who’d kindly faxed back an immediate reply that she was sure it was fine and was surprised he thought he needed approval, that Mr. Shelton completely trusted Jake’s ability to represent Think Tank at the dinner.

Anger seethed inside him as he’d recognized another one of Rod’s attempts to sabotage him.
Little weasel
. Cory had added she wasn’t a bit surprised, that she’d been suspicious of ulterior motives from the moment she’d heard Rod’s voice.

She’d always had good instincts, Jake admitted to himself. And, thankfully, she’d also had the foresight to suggest confirming the event details with Mr. Shelton’s secretary. When she’d read the fax-back out loud, her voice had been tight, betraying her own irritation.

They’d learned the dinner was definitely black tie, which meant he needed to rent a tux at the last minute. The dinner was at seven, not eight like Rod had told her. And, Jake was expected to bring someone. He’d borrowed the phone in Sara’s office and right then left five messages with different women he’d dated, hoping for the best.

“No more stalling,” Cory said as she pushed him into one of the library’s study rooms.

He said his speech twice more for her. She’d made him index cards with bullet points of the major topics, which helped him stay on track. He could easily handle glancing down once in a while to prompt himself with a few carefully chosen words. Phrases, he could handle, just not long passages of text that somehow seemed to animate and gyrate before his eyes when he was nervous.

The rehearsal went perfectly, just like old times.

After he’d earned her applause, they went into Sara’s office so he could make the arrangements to have a tux delivered to his apartment. He would be able to change there, and take a cab or even walk to the Sheraton since it was close.

“Mind if I take another few minutes to check if I have any replies to the messages I left yesterday?”

“Sure.”

Jake used Sara’s desk phone, punched in the numbers he’d memorized from his long distance account card and got into his voice mail box. Five replies. Good. Odds were fair that there would be at least one positive response.

With each reply, though, his heart sank. Not one of the women he’d called could commit to the event. Sabrina was in Paris, Marianna was on assignment in DC, Kirstin was angry she hadn’t heard from him in so long and if he thought she could drop everything to do him a favor...he skipped the rest of the tirade, knowing she would say the same thing in five different ways. Caroline was otherwise occupied. The last message held just a little hope. Julia would love to come, but she just couldn’t quite say for sure. She could try to make it, but her schedule wasn’t looking open at the moment—if only he had called sooner....

Cory raised her eyebrows at him as he listened to the last message; he shook his head as he hung up the phone. “No dice.”

She nibbled on her lower lip and shrugged both shoulders. “Well, then
I’ll
go.” The words tumbled out of her mouth, and it was too late to take them back.

“Really?”

“Sure. It’ll be...fun to go to the city. It’s been a while.”

“I guess everything’s covered then.”

“Great.” Was she nuts? All she had was two measly days to make herself into a sophisticated, confident woman who looked suitable on the arm of the future VP of Think Tank.

“We still make a good team, don’t we?” he asked.

She nodded. They did. And she’d loved every minute as they’d stayed up half the night, with him brainstorming and her capturing every idea that came out of his mouth. She’d had hours of staring at him, watching his brain come to life, hearing perfect sentences spew forth from his lips. She’d spent a lot of time staring at those lips.

“Cory?”

“Go away. I have shopping to do.” She waved him away and watched as he left the library, dialing Sara’s number as soon as he closed the big wooden doors behind him.

“Sara, it’s me. I’m in your office. You know how you’ve been looking for a reason to get out of the house? I need you. You up for some shopping?”

***

Little Molly had slept peacefully during the entire drive to Green Bay even though Sara had talked nonstop and had asked dozens of questions. Cory dutifully answered, only leaving out Jake’s reading problem from her responses.

“You’re sure you know the right kind of dress shop?” Cory was counting on Sara’s shopping expertise.

“Stop worrying. I know exactly where we can go. You need something one-of-a-kind if you really want to make an impression and look good with Jake. Remember when Ted was selected to give that lecture last year? Remember my dress? Relax, Cory, you’re in good hands. I know just where you’ll find the perfect dress.”

Cory sighed. She’d been working too many years in whites and scrubs to even know what was considered fashionable these days. She’d glanced at some fashion magazines at the library, but nothing seemed right for her. Sara was exactly who she needed to push her outside the safe little fashion box she was stuck in.

“There it is.” Sara pointed to a red brick building with charming blue-striped awnings, and Cory pulled into the parking lot.

“I’ll quick feed Molly so she’ll be quiet, and meet you inside.”

Cory stepped inside the front door and a soft chime announced her arrival. Seconds later an Asian woman flitted out from behind the counter to greet her. She was tiny, barely five feet tall, wearing a measuring tape like a boa around her neck, her snow white hair in an elaborate chignon, and impeccably dressed in a powder pink crepe suit.

“Welcome to The White Lily—you must be Sara’s friend. I am Ana.”

The woman kissed the air on either side of Cory’s cheek, leaving the scent of gardenias behind.

“Let me look at you.” She gestured for Cory to turn around. “Yes, yes—we have several things that will accentuate your nice bosom, your small waist and good hips. Too many women are so thin these days; it will be nice to fit a figure that is not all skin and bones.”

Cory’s cheeks warmed as the woman wrapped the tape measure around her waist and chest before she could even respond. The chiming of the door announced Sara’s arrival and she mouthed a “help me” at her.

“So you’ve met Auntie Ana, dresser to the stars.”

Ana clucked her tongue and wagged a finger at Sara. “Just one star.”

Sara winked. “We’re all sworn to secrecy,” she explained, “but a musical legend arrived for a performance sans luggage, and it was my Auntie Ana who saved the day and provided the perfect sequined dress, didn’t you Auntie?” The two touched cheeks and then Sara handed Molly to the woman to coo over while she directed Cory to a wall of dresses.

“Doesn’t everyone wear black these days?” Cory asked.

“True, you can’t go wrong with black,” Sara said, “but what do you think, Auntie?”

The woman stared at Cory from head to toe and back again before she answered. “No, no...it must be something to bring out your eyes, the creaminess of your flawless skin.” Her eyes danced as she handed Molly back to Sara and rushed to a rack on the opposite end of the room.

“Uh-oh,” Sara said, her eyes following the tiny woman. “You’ve got a limitless credit card, right?”

“Jake gave me his American Express. Why?”

“The really good stuff’s over there.” She tipped her head, indicating where her aunt had disappeared.

Jake had been specific. She was to buy whatever she wanted, no holds barred — whatever made her feel like a million bucks, a princess. She’d protested at first, but had finally given in.

Ana came toward them with several dresses on a rolling rack, whooshing past them on her way to the dressing area.

“Follow me, ladies,” she called over her shoulder.

Sara grinned at her and gave her a nudge. “After you, Cinderella.”

***

Every dress she tried on was beautiful. Fine material caressed her skin like silken rain, and she’d never felt more like a dress-up doll in her life.

Ana handed dress after dress to her through the curtains of the dressing room, then impatiently called for her to come out and model them. She was starting to get the hang of it, obediently stepping onto the small raised platform, doing a full turn first to the right, then the left. All the while, she caught glimpses of herself in the floor to ceiling mirrors that covered all four walls of the spacious outer room.

She’d tried on several dresses of every hue, with and without sequins, short and long, strapless, short-sleeved, long-sleeved. They were all fine, but none elicited the ultimate “ooh” from Sara or Ana as they scrutinized her from the comfy chairs that surrounded the carpeted platform. At first she’d taken a peek at the price tags, then stopped herself from looking. Most were the equivalent of at least a week’s wages when she’d been working double shifts at the hospital.

After what felt like an endless amount of time trying on gowns, they took a break and Sara went down the block to pick up the salads Ana had ordered. Cory perused The White Lily’s dress racks once more as she bounced a fussy Molly against her shoulder and patted her tiny behind. She’d spotted a small rack she was pretty sure Ana hadn’t explored yet. When Molly quieted, Cory walked over to take a better look at the pale lavender-colored material that had caught her eye.

With one hand, she pushed other dresses away until she could reach the hangar with one hand and pull it off the rack and rehang it on the wall hook.

It was a strapless dress, its fitted bodice a masterpiece of seed pearls and embroidery; a full skirt billowed out from the waist, chiffon underneath with an overlay of color-matched lace.