Venus in Love (12 page)

“A little?”

“Okay…more than a little. Anyway, since you’re here and clearly alert…” Lee chuckled again, shrugging off the panic caused by her momentary lapse in self-control. “Can you please make a reservation for two at Locale for five thirty tonight? And have Adam bring the car at—no, no car. I’ll drive.” She remembered Morgan’s trepidation about the car that night in Paris. “She’ll be more at ease if I drive,” Lee muttered quietly.

“What are you saying? What is going on with you, Lee? What happened with Morgan earlier?”

“What? Oh nothing. Everything’s fine. Just reservations. No car. That’s it.” Lee could tell that Alex was beginning to get concerned. Who could blame her? Lee herself thought she was spinning like a car on ice. Lee slipped into a daze and Alex quietly left the room.

*

“Freddy…”

“Well, hello, gorgeous. Where have you been all my life?”

“Right under your nose if you’d only take the time to look,” Morgan said halfheartedly. Flirting and banter were prerequisites for conversations with Freddy, even if they were out of place and forced.

“Yikes…remind me not to look then. You don’t sound like my type at all. What’s wrong, sugar?”

Morgan started to explain, but Freddy cut her off. “Slow down, pumpkin. I’m clearly missing part of this story. Your new boss is who?”

“Ainsley Dencourt. You would know her as Lee, also known as dark-haired goddess from Yale, and or the woman that stood me up on the night of the Cranach opening.”

“What? Wait…that Lee? Your fantasy woman and heartbreaker is the Ainsley Dencourt, daughter of Charles Dencourt, founder and director of one of the most impressive museums of American art and now herself the director?” Freddy spouted off like a
New York Arts and Culture Magazine
article.

“All the same…” Morgan slumped onto her couch and threw her head back.

“That’s so romantic!”

“Are you kidding? Did you hear anything I said?” Morgan scoffed and jolted upright.

“That’s not romantic?” Freddy asked.

“How is it romantic to stand someone up and then five months later move heaven and earth to manipulate them into taking a position too good to be true, and then after I’m moved, settled, and working, she appears out of nowhere and turns out to be my boss. Hell, not just my boss but the chairman and director of the whole damn place! If I’d known…” Morgan was speaking her thoughts so quickly she was lightheaded from not taking a breath.

“What? If you’d known that she was Director Dencourt, you what? Wouldn’t have taken the job? Really?” Freddy said sarcastically.

“Yes. No. Maybe. I don’t know!” Morgan threw her hands in the air, almost flinging her phone across the room.

“So what is the real problem, sweetheart? That you were manipulated, as you say, into taking a job that you are perfectly capable of doing or because it’s for her?”

“She just keeps appearing and disappearing from my life in the strangest of places, and it makes me feel like I have no control over it when she’s involved.”

“Right. So this woman threatens your organized and structured plans, and that drives you crazy—”

“Exactly!” Morgan agreed.

“I wasn’t finished, love. It drives you crazy because, for as long as I’ve known you, this woman has been the only thing other than Michelangelo’s frescoes that gets your blood pumping.”

“Yes. I mean, no! Dammit, Freddy! You’re making it worse!” Morgan growled.

“Okay…so what do you want to do? Quit? Go back to the farm and wait for another amazing opportunity to call you? Turn the tables so that you can be the one to walk out on her? It seems like career suicide to let a silly crush wreck your future.”

“It’s not a crush. It’s…there was something. Something happened that night in Paris that made me forget about work and school and life for a moment. What if that happens here?

What if I let her get to me like that again? It was a day, Freddy…one day, and she had me so twisted I didn’t know what—”

“And there it is.”

“There what is?”

“The reason you’re so freaked out about all of this. It has nothing to do with her
manipulation
. It’s because she gets you so out of sorts with her looks and charm you cease to function normally and you forget your purpose.”

“Freddy, she’s hypnotizing. I’ve never felt such a pull toward anyone in my entire life. How am I possibly going to make this work professionally when every personal fantasy I have is about her?”

“Do you think that leaving and giving up your dream will change that?” Freddy asked sincerely.

“Not at all,” Morgan relented. “Oh shit! I have to go. We are having dinner at five, and I don’t know what to wear.”

Freddy burst into laughter. “Oh my goodness, girl. You just became hopeless. I love you. Have a good time.”

*

Lee practiced what she would say and the responses she would need to counter any of Morgan’s arguments. She needed Morgan to stay.

“For the museum…stay for the museum.” Lee chanted affirmations.

Lee knew she was going to need to apologize for leaving that day in Paris. Clearly, Morgan’s reaction of anger was based on more than the surprise of realizing Lee was her new boss. She had thought about calling Monsieur Foillot a couple times when she had returned, to thank Morgan and say she was sorry for standing her up. She just never got the chance. Once she had accepted her responsibilities at the gallery, she simply had no time. Lee certainly didn’t need the uncontrollable distraction that was Morgan, especially during her first months as head of the gallery. By the time things began to settle, Lee assumed Morgan had long forgotten her and their day together in Paris. To call her months later seemed ruder than not calling at all. At least in her head anyway. Maybe she shouldn’t say anything. Maybe she should just let it go and keep this meeting strictly professional. Lee would state why she brought her here and what she needed from her and avoid anything personal. It would not be an easy task because every time she saw Morgan her pulse raced and her body warmed. “No. I can do this. I’m a professional, and this is business.” She knew full well that she was fooling no one, least of all herself, but she had to try. It was a matter of life and death, she told herself.

She looked up at the clock. Morgan would be here in thirty minutes, and she needed to get ready. It was an easy thing to do when your personal amenities at work rivaled those in your home. Her father practically slept here most of his life and her childhood, so a luxury bathroom and closet was a must for him. She never understood its convenience until she took over. Sometimes she could still hear him talk her through issues she got hung up on. Her father was a man of great wisdom and talent but also of intuition and compassion. She wondered what he would think of the current predicament she’d managed to get herself into. “Listen to your heart, my darling child. What does it tell you?” he’d ask. Yet this time Lee thought it was her heart that was getting too involved. No. Not her heart. It was something much bigger than her heart.

*

Morgan took a cab the two blocks to the gallery. It was starting to sprinkle, and she didn’t want to risk a downpour halfway there. When they pulled up to the Dencourt, she was glad she’d listened to her instincts because the sky had completely opened up. She paid the driver and sprinted to the door. As she flung the door open and stepped inside, the sole of her wet shoe slipped on the marble tile.

She was flung into the air and landed hard on her butt in the middle of a crowded foyer. The skirt of her dress was short, and judging by her landing position, she was certain she didn’t go down without giving the visitors a show. Embarrassment took over every part of her body, and she prayed that she could retain what little was left of her dignity by managing to get back on her feet gracefully. She sat up quickly, smoothed her skirt back over her legs, and shifted them around beneath her. She didn’t want to look up because she didn’t need to. Morgan could feel a hundred eyes staring at her. As she started to push herself up, she saw a hand reaching down for her. Morgan was mortified, but it did nothing to ease the pain shooting up and down her leg. She wanted to crawl under the nearest bench and hide until everyone left, but instead she blindly grabbed the hand offered and allowed it to pull her to her feet.

Once she was upright and had made sure her dress was properly covering her, she looked up. “Thank yo—you’ve got to be shitting me.” She wished it was a fall that killed her or at least knocked her unconscious.

Lee held her hand and stared back at Morgan. A smile that could melt the winter was spread across her face.

“Are you okay? Come sit here for a minute.” Lee led her to one of the many benches lining the walls of the large foyer. The same ones she wished she was hiding under. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

Morgan watched Lee beeline to the docent desk. She was clearly not amused. That much was noticeable in the expressions of the ladies behind the desk. After one of them rushed off through a staff door, Lee turned around and made her way back toward Morgan and her wounded pride. Morgan prayed Lee had only seen the aftermath and not the entire train wreck. As Lee got closer, Morgan’s face got redder and she hung her head to avoid eye contact.

“I’ve told them repeatedly to make certain there is someone always standing near those doors when it’s raining to usher visitors across that marble. Hey, are you okay?” Lee reached down and gently raised Morgan’s chin.

Morgan looked up into Lee’s eyes, and for an instant, wanted to jump into her arms and kiss her. It wasn’t like Lee had saved her life. Yet it seemed that Morgan had been waiting to do so since the night Lee stood her up. Right. She never showed, and now she was her boss and,
oh God
, she’d seen—she didn’t even want to know what she had seen.

Morgan quickly looked away and jumped up from the bench. “Oh, I’m fine. Just clumsy. A bull in a china shop, that’s me. Are you ready? Are we still going out to dinner? If you don’t…” Morgan smiled weakly through both the pain and the humiliation.

Lee put her hand on Morgan’s shoulder. “Relax. And unless you bruised more than your ego, we’re still going to dinner.” The longer Lee’s hand rested on her shoulder, the more it felt like she was standing on the sun.

“Okay. Great. Let’s go,” Morgan said as she slyly twisted herself out from under Lee’s firm and electrifying touch. Morgan turned toward the door and started to step, but the hand she managed to escape now grabbed her own hand. A sharp zing flung up her arm and right through her heart. For a second, she would have sworn it had exploded.

Morgan looked at their hands and then to Lee. “I’m driving, and my car is in the garage downstairs. This way.”

*

Lee reluctantly released Morgan’s hand and guided her through the lobby to the staff elevator that would take them to the garage level. As they walked, her body grew cold from the lack of contact with Morgan. She needed to find a way to touch her if even just slightly to know that her blood had not frozen in her veins. What was happening this evening was already failing to be strictly professional. Once they got to the garage, Lee helped Morgan into the car and they made their way to the restaurant.

They’d hardly said a word on the drive over. Morgan was still recovering from a devastating blow to her ego…and her ass. She had managed to sit with most of her weight off of her right side. This meant she was leaning toward the driver. This made her both nervous and off kilter. She needed to keep her distance; Lee had manipulated her. She was supposed to be mad. Morgan attempted to move away just to prove to herself that she could, but the sting of her leg reminded her that it wasn’t possible.

Lee’s car was impressive to say the least, and Lee was even more impressive driving it. Morgan couldn’t help but steal a glance every chance she could. Lee’s white button-down tucked into smooth black trousers was enough to set Morgan’s libido on fire. Lee was so perfectly put together. Her shirt and slacks were crisp and pressed. Morgan wanted to run her finger along the ridge up the top of Lee’s visibly firm thigh. Thankfully, she remembered Lee had seen her bust her ass. Morgan could only imagine that Lee thought she was a hot mess running and slipping and falling. What a lady. How did someone even recover from that? “You don’t. You crawl into a corner and die,” Morgan whispered.

“Did you say something?” Lee asked as she turned to look at Morgan.

“Oh, no. It was nothing.” Morgan stared out the passenger window.

Morgan decided she would just pretend nothing happened, and if it came up in conversation she would just own it. “Yeah, I fell. It happens.” She practiced silently. But if it never came up, she’d be content to ignore it like broccoli in the teeth of an enemy.

Her ass was starting to hurt, and she hoped they’d arrive at the restaurant soon. Just as she thought it, they arrived. As Lee got out, Morgan noticed just how perfect Lee’s pants hugged her form, and she might have given a good “Mmm” had an attendant not opened her door to help her out. Her leg was starting to stiffen, and she had her fingers crossed that hard wooden chairs weren’t awaiting her. She wanted to go check out what she knew was going to be a beauty of a bruise and turned to see what was keeping Lee. When she turned around, she saw Lee staring at her with a sweet smile on her face. She was stunning, and the way she looked at Morgan was exhilarating. Her heart fluttered in her chest.
I’m a lost cause.

*

When they arrived at the restaurant, Lee pulled into valet and got out of the vehicle. As she held out her keys for the attendant, a flash of red caught her eye. Nonplussed, she looked in its direction. Time slowed almost to a stop as she watched Morgan step onto the curb and turn to look at her. Morgan was dressed in a stunning one-shoulder cocktail dress that clung to and accentuated every part of Morgan’s feminine and voluptuous body. Her hair was down and flowing free in smooth waves down her back. Lee’s body burned, and until now, she had never believed in spontaneous combustion. She smiled when she remembered exactly what Morgan had on under that dress. After all, she and about one hundred other people had seen Morgan’s black satin and lace thong. She recalled the feeling of helplessness when she failed to stop Morgan from slipping on the wet tile. Lee cringed at the memory of Morgan hitting the floor, and could only imagine how much pain she was in.