Authors: Brooke Hastings
It only took till Saturday morning for Randy to realize
that if she didn't put some distance between herself and Luke Griffin
she'd wind up securely in his arms. Given her behavior he probably had
every right to assume it was what she wanted, and on some level he
seemed to want it, too.
Her sister Linda clearly thought she was hopeless. She
called Sunday night for her first progress report, listening to Randy's
account of events with growing dismay.
"For heaven's sake, Randy, there's a limit to how good an
actress you are," she said when Randy was finished. "You can't let him
get that close to you. You were supposed to be businesslike and
unimpressed, remember? And let me tell you, Luke was suspicious going
in. He called Roger last week and asked some very telling questions.
Roger gave him some story about meeting you when you came back from New Hampshire and being startled by how alike we are, but
still—Luke's not
stupid
!"
"I can't help it," Randy answered weakly. "I want him to
be attracted to me, Lin. He teases me, so I tease him right back. After
all, if I freeze him off—"
"But you don't have to issue invitations to the man," Lin
interrupted. "Find a middle ground, Randy. You want some time to sort
out your feelings, don't you?"
"Of course I do. I just seem to forget that whenever I'm
in the same room with him."
Linda gave an exasperated sigh. "And you have to ask
yourself if you're in love with him? What on earth do you
think
you feel?"
"I don't know. We hardly know each other. After all, I
thought I was in love with Sean…"
"We've been through that before. I think you know that
Sean Raley isn't fit to shine Luke Griffin's boots."
"I suppose." Randy also supposed that having the same
conversation all over again wouldn't accomplish anything. "I'll try to
keep a grip on my common sense, Lin. So how are you and Roger doing?"
"Wonderfully. I'm going to Paris with him in a few days.
He's trying to lure some obscure director whom he claims is a genius
into doing a movie for him."
Randy immediately suggested to Linda that as long as she
was going to be in Paris anyway she might take a look around the shops
for merchandise suitable for C & D's boutiques. "You're one of
the world's champion shoppers," she teased. "If you could discover some
unusual items that no one else has come across I know Dad would be
impressed."
After talking over the idea Linda asked Randy to put their
father on the line. He seemed pleased by his older daughter's interest,
but wary of taking her too seriously. At least Linda understood that
the ball was squarely in her court, which Randy considered a positive
sign.
When Randy walked into the office on Monday morning she
found a note on her desk from Rita Washington, Luke's secretary, saying
that Luke wanted to see her at ten o'clock to discuss her
recommendations for the White Hills store. She just had time to review
her notes and the data Luke had given her before going down the hall to
his office. On the way she passed a grim-looking Rita Washington.
Although Randy smiled and murmured, "Good morning," Rita kept right on
going, as if she'd scarcely noticed.
The door to Luke's private office was slightly ajar, so
Randy poked her head inside to see if he was ready to meet with her. He
was standing in the center of the room, facing her; in front of him,
with her back to Randy, was a willowy blonde almost as tall as Luke
was, her arms carelessly twined around his neck. Luke's hands were
resting lightly on the woman's waist.
Their eyes met over his companion's shoulder, but he made
no attempt to disengage himself from her grip. "Come on in, Miranda,"
he said.
The woman glanced around, decided that Randy was no one
important and kissed Luke softly on the mouth. As her hands dropped
from around his neck they paused to straighten his tie. Randy decided
that it had been perfectly placed until the woman touched it.
She managed a friendly smile, a major tribute to her
ability as an actress. "You're Katrina Sorensen, aren't you?" she said.
"I recognize you from your work in commercials, but you're even more
beautiful in person than your photographs." The statement was true,
even if Randy hated to admit it. Katrina was stunning, her hair a thick
and sensual lion's mane, her eyes cat-like and glowingly green, her
facial structure feline and exotic. Even her figure was sensuously
rounded, not bony and angular like so many models' bodies were. Despite
Roger Bennett's comments on the woman's shortcomings it was impossible
not to be jealous.
A perfectly shaped eyebrow was cocked in Randy's
direction. "Thank you. And you're… ?" Katrina let the
question dangle, as if to indicate that whoever Randy was, she was of
absolutely no consequence.
Luke casually removed his hands from Katrina's waist and
made the introduction. "This is Miranda Dunne, Katie. She's Jonathan
Conover's granddaughter and Bill Dunne's daughter. Needless to say,
she's also a future V.I.P. around this company."
"Why didn't you tell me that before?" Katrina scolded
huskily. Randy thought irritably that even her
voice
was marvelous. "I'm very glad to meet you, Miranda. Your grandfather
and your father are charming gentlemen, and I certainly hope I'll have
the opportunity to work for them."
"Randy and I have some business to take care of, Katie.
Run along now. I'll talk to your agent about a contract some time in
the next couple of days." Katrina didn't take offense at being talked
down to in such a manner, but merely smiled and thanked Luke very
prettily for his time. Then she strode out the door, her body swinging
from side to side with lithe, tawny grace.
Her soft, little-girl manner reminded Randy of some of the
starlets she'd come across in Hollywood. They seemed so feminine and
helpless that men lined up to take care of them, but in reality they
were as tough as stevedores, with ambition clogging every pore.
Irritated by Katrina's performance, she reacted before her
better judgment could stop her. "Your tie is crooked," she said,
approaching Luke as she lisped out the words. "Let me fix it for you."
His failure to comment as she reached up and pulled the
knot over a fraction should have warned her about his mood, but she
never even noticed. "That's much better," she cooed. "But you know, Mr.
Griffin, you
really
should have shut your door. I
do
hope I didn't interrupt anything."
When he frowned Randy realized that he hadn't cared for
her advice. "If I'd wanted to do something that was worth keeping
private," he said a little curtly, "I would have done it at home." He
walked over to his desk and sat down, motioning toward a chair on the
other side. "Have a seat. Let's talk about what you've learned."
His clipped tone of voice made Randy uncomfortable, as did
his choice of seating arrangement. She'd assumed that they'd sit on the
couch and talk informally, as they had on Tuesday, but instead Luke was
turning the session into a kind of interview. Less than confident about
her conclusions, yet eager to earn his respect, she was hesitant to
even begin lest she choose the wrong opening. Luke, who was watching
her almost coolly now, offered absolutely no help.
"Do you want me to tell you what I think about the White
Hills store?" she finally asked.
"That's what you're here for." He pulled out a cigarette
but didn't light it. "And not, as you seem to think, to indicate your
opinions about either Katrina or myself."
I should have kept my mouth shut, she thought, but said
aloud, "I was only kidding. You didn't—"
Luke cut her off. "Something you're very good at. But I'm
spending time I really don't have to work with you today, so you might
try to be serious about it."
Randy bit back the urge to retort that she was
very
serious, and that furthermore, if he were really so all-fired busy
she'd come back another time. She had to remind herself that she'd
learned all about his temper in Maine, and that he'd undoubtedly get
over what was bothering him soon enough.
"Okay." She shifted her position slightly, as if greater
physical comfort would somehow help matters. "I think we should close
the present store as soon as we can open a new one in a better
location. It will be years before all the construction in that area is
finished, and in the meantime, it's dirty and confusing. We're not
losing money yet, but we will be within two years if the current trend
continues. Besides, we'd still be the only major retail outlet in the
area, and the store is old and unattractive."
Luke didn't seem particularly impressed by her analysis.
"Why are we losing money?" he asked.
Randy thought she'd already told him, but elaborated. "The
area's full of dirt and noise, the streets are all ripped up and there
are so many detours you have trouble finding your way into the parking
lot. When you add the fact that the store is old and unexciting to shop
in, it's not surprising we have a problem. I realize that some of the
departments are doing well, but they're the exceptions."
"Why have they done well?"
By now Randy was beginning to resent not only Luke's
failure to respond to anything she was saying but also his rapid-fire
style of questioning her. Nonetheless she went on evenly, "C &
D's children's clothing departments are known for having an excellent
selection of good-quality merchandise at competitive prices. The
designer boutiques have apparently attracted a faithful clientele that
will come to the store in spite of the hassle. For major purchases like
carpeting or draperies people will comparison shop to find the best
buy. But those are all special cases. In general we've lost a lot of
customers, and if we don't do something soon I'm afraid we'll lose them
permanently."
"What's under construction there?" Luke lit up his
cigarette and leaned back in his chair.
"A major new hotel, a medical office building and a
highway interchange. There might be a new county building also, but no
decision's been made yet."
"How do you know that?" Luke asked.
Randy was more than a little exasperated by the question.
"How do you
think
I know?" she demanded. "I asked
about it, of course!"
"Then you asked the wrong person," Luke told her curtly.
"The project will be approved."
Randy quickly voiced a protest. "If that's inside
information I don't see how I was supposed to find it out."
"Simple. All you had to do was ask me if
I
knew, which I did. The projects you've mentioned—will they be
good for business?"
"Probably they will—eventually," Randy said.
"But it will be years before everything is finished, and we'd still be
stuck with an old-fashioned, deteriorating building that's unpleasant
to shop in and—"
"Can the building be renovated?"
Randy's temper was fast approaching the breaking point. "I
suppose so. But it would still look like a stack of cigar boxes, and
all the other stores have modern—"
"Is there anything we can do about that?" Luke interrupted
yet again.
"How should I know?" Randy flung back. "I'm not an
architect, just a persecuted trainee!"
Luke paid no attention to her outburst, but reached into
the side drawer of his desk and took out a file folder. He tossed it on
the desk facing Randy, who silently opened it, her body stiff with
reproach. Inside were architect's blueprints and sketches showing how
the present building could be enlarged and renovated. The shape would
be changed from a box-like structure into a graceful arc and the
interior would be redesigned to remove or disguise columns and break up
the space in interesting, innovative ways.
"If you're not an architect," he said blandly, "then hire
one. Howell and Morita specialize in this type of job."
Randy didn't answer. She simply closed the folder and
stared angrily at Luke, feeling that he had deliberately withheld the
sketches in order to set a trap for her.
"The city officials we've talked to feel that that area of
town could become a vital part of the central business district again,
given enough help from private business," he stated. "C & D has
always been a community-oriented company. Don't you think we should be
a part of that effort?"
"I suppose it would be good public relations," Randy
answered. "Even profitable over the long term."
"What's on the land adjacent to the store?"
Here we go again, she thought with a sigh. She tried to
picture the surrounding area. "An abandoned service station and a
vacant lot—and some partially occupied buildings, and, uh,
parking spaces."
"Who owns the land?"
"I don't know."
"Why didn't you look it up?"
"It didn't occur to me to look it up, Mr. Griffin." Randy
glared at him. "Should it have?"
"Obviously, yes. But since it didn't, I'll tell you. Dunne
Industries does. So what do you propose that we do with it?"
"You could have told me that before I went up there, just
like you could have shown me the blueprints! Do you enjoy setting
people up? Is that it?"
Luke frowned and repeated the question in the tone of
voice he might have used with an annoying adolescent. "I asked you what
you propose that we do with it."
The only thoughts in Randy's head concerned where Luke
Griffin and his bloody land could darn well go. "I don't know," she
muttered.
"Don't tell me you don't know. Think about it until you
can give me an answer."
Randy looked down into her lap. She found it impossible to
think about anything except her own anger and hurt. There was no
question in her mind that Luke had deliberately set out to give her a
hard time, but why? Because of a mild little joke? Because he'd had a
lousy morning? Or because he actively disliked her? After the intimate
ways he'd touched her in Maine the possibility was insupportable. It
didn't matter that he believed she was someone else. She wasn't
thinking too rationally just then.