The Color of Love (22 page)

“You might be right.” Emily grinned. “But
sometimes, I am.”

“Well I know one thing,” Ron said, rising and
starting for the door. “Things would be a hell of a lot better around here if
she stayed.”

He slipped out the door and Emily leaned back
in her chair and closed her eyes. Derian couldn’t be planning to get involved
at the agency, could she? As much as she wanted to see Donatella dethroned, she
wasn’t at all sure she wanted to see Derian in Henrietta’s place. If she and
Derian had to work together, she wasn’t sure their personal relationship could
go any further. For the first time in her life, her professional goals ran
smack up against her personal ones. She’d never had to choose between her goals
and her desires, and she wasn’t sure what she would do if she had to.

*

“Hi, Vonnie darlin’.” Derian swung around
Vonnie’s desk and kissed her on the cheek. “You look beautiful as always.”

Vonnie jumped up and gave Derian a quick hug.
In a low voice, she said, “You’re a sight for sore eyes. How have you been?
Still my favorite bad girl?”

“So I’m told.”

“No, really,” Vonnie said gently. “It’s been
a long time. Too long.”

“I’ve been doing okay,” Derian said,
stretching the truth a bit. With each passing day she wondered if she’d been
doing anything more than killing time—or maybe wasting it, along with her life.
“A lot better now that Henrietta is on the mend.”

“Don’t I know it?” Vonnie glanced behind her
at the closed office doors. “Her getting back here can’t be too soon for me.”

“Donatella hasn’t left yet?”

“Not unless she flew out the window on her
broom, which wouldn’t surprise me at all.”

Derian laughed. “Is everything pretty much
under control?”

“We’ve had some concerned calls from clients
and publisher reps, worried that Henrietta’s absence will disrupt some of our
commitments. Everyone knows Henrietta is the power here.”

“Just tell anyone who asks it’s business as
usual and there won’t be any changes.”

“I wish that were the case, but—”

“Don’t worry. Just leave it to me.”

“You know what you’re up against in there?”
Vonnie’s brows drew down in worry.

“Hey, I was born for this, remember?” Derian
strode to Henrietta’s door, knocked perfunctorily, and let herself in.
Donatella hadn’t changed much since the last time she’d seen her, although she
appeared thinner, if that was even possible. Her skin was stretched tight over
sharp facial bones, her dark hair sculpted to her skull. She wore gold at her
throat and her wrists, her black suit severely tailored to her anorectic frame.
Her wide mouth tightened, her voice a hiss. “Derian.”

“Hi, Donatella,” Derian said easily, shedding
her suit jacket and draping it over a clothes tree. She rolled up her sleeves,
scanning the room. Henrietta’s touch was everywhere—floor-to-ceiling
glass-fronted bookcases filled with countless books by authors the agency had
represented over the past hundred years, the comfortable seating area where
Derian could imagine HW or Emily relaxing with a manuscript, the huge desk from
which HW steered the agency. “Did Martin call?”

“He did.”

Derian turned and slid her hands into her
pockets. “I’ll grab a cup of coffee while you gather up your things.”

“As I’m sure Martin informed you, we have an
audit ongoing which will take some time to complete.” If possible, her lips
grew even thinner. “Long overdue.”

“The business offices are on the third floor.
I’ll make sure someone gives you a space to work. But I’ll be working here.”

“Really, Derian,” Donatella said
condescendingly, “how far do you plan to take this charade? You don’t know
anything about the business, and even if you did—”

“I’ve already been this route with Martin,
and I don’t really have time or the inclination to repeat myself. I plan to run
the agency in Henrietta’s absence. If you have an issue with that, you can take
it to my father.” She grinned, the kind of grin that said,
Go ahead, make my day
.
“He can take it to the board. I’ll be happy to fight it out there.”

Martin would not want a public schism. He was
chairman of the board, but at least half the members were elected by the
shareholders, and he would not tolerate any show of weakness to those who might
conceivably challenge him in the future. His image was all important, and he
would want to appear unassailable. Derian wondered if Martin had any idea his
attempts at training her to win in the business world would one day be used
against him. She smiled at the thought.

“Your aunt,” Donatella said with a touch of
distaste, “has run this business like a charity for far too long. The staff is
bloated, half of the clients are marginal producers if that, and the agency’s
catalog is hopelessly outdated. Nothing short of a complete overhaul will bring
this business into the twenty-first century. Do you really think you’re capable
of that?”

Derian held on to her temper. She didn’t mind
being insulted, but she wouldn’t stand for Henrietta being criticized when she
wasn’t there to defend herself. “You’d be surprised,” she said softly, “at
exactly what I’m capable of doing. If you’d like to find out, you can try
standing in my way.”

Donatella lost the staring contest and rose
with a huffing sound. She gathered papers and pushed them into a large black
shoulder bag. “This is a ridiculous, childish maneuver that will only compound
the problems at this institution. I expect you’ll discover you’re in well over
your head very shortly. Call me when that happens.” Her thin smile blossomed
crimson, as if infused with fresh blood. “At that point I think the board will
be delighted with anything we suggest, so you’ll be doing us a favor when you
fail.”

Derian stepped aside as Donatella stormed
out. An unexpected wave of satisfaction rolled through her despite Donatella’s
prediction. She hadn’t expected winning a round in business to be as satisfying
as pulling down a large take at the tables, but it was. Maybe she’d been
missing out on something all this time.

Donatella was right about one thing, though.
She didn’t know exactly how to win at this game, and she needed to find out.
Henrietta’s legacy and a lot of people’s futures, including Emily’s, depended
on her being able to pull this off. She opened the door. “Vonnie?”

Vonnie swiveled in her chair, a pleased
expression on her face. “Yes, boss?”

“Derian will do.” Derian chuckled. “Where’s
Emily’s office?”

Vonnie’s smile widened and she pointed.
“Around the corner and down the hall to your right. First door.”

“Thanks,” Derian said, heading off in the
direction Vonnie so kindly indicated for her with a buzz of expectation.

Ron was at the door again. Emily closed her iPad
and set it aside with an inward sigh. She was used to people dropping in and
could usually work around disruptions, but today, somehow, she couldn’t concentrate,
couldn’t lose herself in the words, and that was so unusual it left her feeling
completely off balance. “More news?”

“Depends on what you call news,” Derian said.

Emily glanced up quickly, a small gasp
escaping before she could catch it. Derian stood in the doorway looking
nonchalant and totally at home, wearing a gorgeous dark gray pinstripe suit
with dark chocolate stripes, loafers, and an open-collar shirt that matched the
subtle brown in her suit. She looked every inch the business magnate she had
always said she didn’t want to be. “Oh, I thought you were Ron.”

“I hope you’re not too disappointed.” Derian
raised a brow. “Do you have a moment, or should I come back later?”

Flustered more by the pleasure spilling over
her than Derian’s unexpected appearance, Emily searched around for words. The
only one that came out was “Yes.”

“As in, you’re disappointed I’m not Ron, this
is a good time, or I’m bothering you and I should come back later?” Derian’s
infuriatingly charming grin said she knew exactly how Emily was feeling.

How embarrassing.

Gathering her scattered wits, Emily gestured
to the chair in front of her desk where Ron had sat an hour before, quizzing
her about her feelings for Derian. Suggesting she might want to take Derian to
bed. And now Derian, who was most certainly here in an official capacity, was
sitting in her office and she could barely put two words together. Did she need
any other reminder of why office romances were a bad idea? “Please, of course,
come in. I didn’t expect you.”

Derian quietly closed the door and took the
seat Emily had indicated. “Sorry, my decision-making process has gotten a
little turned around lately. By the time I figure out what I want to do, it’s
past time to do it.”

“Please,” Emily said, “you don’t need to
explain anything to me.”

Derian crossed her legs at the ankles and
managed to look relaxed even while appearing totally in control. “This is your
turf, Emily, and we ought to be very clear about that right from the outset.”

“It certainly isn’t,” Emily said, not
arguing, but adamant. They needed to be clear about a great many things, it
seemed. “If it’s anyone’s turf—after Henrietta’s, of course—it’s yours. Is
there something I can do to help?”

“How about relaxing? I was hoping you’d be
glad to see me.”

“I am,” Emily said quickly and, smiling
ruefully, shook her head. “I really am. I’m sorry. Everything is just a little
off track for me these days.”

“I understand. For me too.” Derian sat
forward, her forearms casually resting on her long, lean thighs. “You have me a
little off-kilter too.”

“Perhaps,” Emily said, although Derian looked
anything but off-kilter. She looked confident and self-assured. Under other
circumstances, Emily might have wanted to hear just how she’d managed to put
such a formidable woman off stride, but this was not the place. Warring with
her desire to verbally dance with Derian, she finally surrendered to reason.
“As unlikely as I find that, we should save that conversation for another
time.”

“You’re absolutely right. And we will.” Derian
grinned. Emily was interested, she could feel it. And Emily was also totally
correct that the office needed to be someplace where business, and only
business, was the topic. It was just so damn hard not to flirt with her, when
all she thought about was her. “I have evicted Donatella.”

“Bless you,” Emily said with real feeling.

“I’ll take that as a happy thought.”

Emily snorted. “You have just made a dozen
people very, very happy.”

“I doubt anyone downstairs in the business
department will like me very much,” Derian said. “She’s doing an audit and
there’s nothing I can do to stop it. I sent her downstairs where at least she
won’t have an opportunity to intrude on your end of things.”

“Thank you. Is the audit anything to worry
about, do you think?” Emily hesitated, unsure of her ground with a new chief
administrator, and added quickly, “Of course, that’s not something you need to
tell me, but—”

“Emily,” Derian said, “we both know you
should be sitting in Henrietta’s office. A snarl of red tape and some antiquated
opinions about lines of succession are the only things preventing it.”

“I appreciate you saying that, but neither of
those barriers is minor, and besides, it’s not entirely accurate. I’ll admit
Henrietta has intimated that one day, my role in the company might change, but
that time isn’t now. Certainly not when my status is so uncertain.”

“The visa, you mean?”

Emily nodded. “Who knows what will happen
with that now.”

“Nothing any different is going to happen,”
Derian said. “I’ll look into it and see that it’s taken care of.”

“Thank you,” Emily said, wishing the solution
were that easy. But knowing Derian at least wanted to try to sort things out
gave her a glimmer of hope. Not time to panic—not yet.

“You’re important, Emily,” Derian said
quietly, her voice filled with conviction, “to the business, and to me.”

“I don’t know why,” Emily said, “but I
appreciate your help.”

Derian waved a hand impatiently. “As far as
the business goes, I’m only doing what makes sense. And personally, well, it
makes me feel good to help you out if I can.”

“I wish I could return the favor.”

“Oh, you can. I just took a look at
Henrietta’s calendar. It’s terrifying.”

Emily laughed, the tension draining from her
chest. Derian had a way of making the most troubling situations seem
surmountable. Derian hid her strength and resolve beneath a layer of
nonchalance, but it only took being around her for a few moments, watching her,
listening to her, to realize she was a woman who did what needed to be done.
“I’m sure Vonnie can help you sort your way through things.”

Derian nodded. “I think she’s already taken
care of a great many things, but there are meetings she said I’d need to take
and a big conference in a few days—the BEA?”

“Of course,” Emily said. “It’s the biggest
industry book event of the year. We have appointments already scheduled with
authors and publishers on the foreign rights schedule, and a booth that Ron and
several of the others will staff. Henrietta and I usually cover the rights
appointments.”

“So you’ll have to hold my hand through
that.” Derian grinned. “Figuratively speaking, of course.”

“I could probably handle the appointments
with Bill or one of the others.”

Derian shook her head. “I need to actually be
involved in the running of the agency. It’s the only way I’m going to keep
Martin and Donatella from moving back into Henrietta’s office. They know I
don’t know a damn thing about the nuts and bolts, and they’re going to be
looking for any excuse to force the board to push through a reorganization
while Henrietta is absent. We can’t let that happen.”

“No,” Emily said, “we can’t.”