Authors: Brooke Hastings
Randy's murmured, "But we've already met, Mom," was met by
a whispered, "Straighten up and smile, darling."
"Katie, dear," Emily said to Katrina, "I'd like you to
meet my daughter, Randy. I'm sure that she joins all of us in telling
you how delighted we are that you'll be working for C & D."
"How sweet, Emily, but I had the pleasure of meeting Randy
last week, in Luke's office." Katrina smiled warmly at Randy, then gave
Luke a look which mingled possessiveness with seduction.
He stood up and extended his arm to her, totally ignoring
Randy, who somehow managed to keep on smiling, even though she dearly
wanted to kick him. "Up you go, Katie," he said. "If you're sitting in
a chair, you aren't earning the outrageous amount we pay you."
Katrina giggled and tucked her arm around Luke's waist. As
he led her off to mingle with those in the room Emily said to Randy,
"Come into the bedroom with me. You're doing fine."
Randy, who felt anything but fine, obediently followed.
Only when the two women were sitting together on the bed behind a
locked door did Emily continue to talk. "Your father told me what
happened," she said. "He also told me that he informed Luke that you're
in love with him, which probably terrified the poor man, and that he'd
made it clear to Luke that if he hurt you he could think about finding
himself another job, which would account for his very bizarre behavior
with Katrina."
Randy was now as furious with her father as she'd been
with Luke only a minute ago. "Bizarre?" she raged. "How dare Dad talk
to Luke like that! And how
could
he touch that—that
woman after the way he touched me?" She brushed away an angry tear. "I
could kill him."
Emily gave a soothing cluck and made a gracefully
dismissive gesture with her hand. "He used to date her, but everyone
knows that he got tired of her within a month, darling. I suppose that
paying attention to Katrina is his way of telling you that he's not
interested in you, but of course, if he weren't interested in you, he
wouldn't bother to pay attention to Katrina. True?"
"I suppose." It did make a convoluted kind of sense. "But,
Mom… Dad has to stop interfering in my life. My relationship
with Luke is nobody's business but mine, and I won't have Dad treating
me like a child."
Emily stroked her hair, murmuring, "But darling, you've
only known Luke a short time. Don't you think you were rushing
things—just a little?"
Randy's response was a burst of mildly hysterical
laughter. This whole situation was ridiculous. At first she wasn't sure
just how much she was going to tell her mother, but somehow after
twenty minutes of nonstop talking she'd given Emily a shorthand version
of everything from Sean Raley onwards.
Emily Dunne's clients weren't always the easiest people in
the world to deal with, and in the course of her career she'd developed
a talent for remaining absolutely tranquil in the midst of total chaos.
When Randy finished her story her only reaction was a thoughtful, "It
is
a complicated situation, isn't it?"
Calmer now, Randy realized that she'd just handed her
mother a very big pill to swallow in the space of less than half an
hour. "Are you very disappointed in me?" she asked meekly.
"Disappointed?" Emily moved her hand up and down Randy's
back, gently massaging the tense muscles. "For making a mistake with
that actor? Of course not. I never really believed that anyone who
loves to eat as much as you do could bear to diet away all that weight
for a movie role. And as far as Luke is concerned"—she smiled
knowingly—"he's a
very
attractive man.
If I were fifteen years younger and single I'd go after him myself. But
if you're serious about him, darling, you really should stop playing
games and get to know him. Luke won't be easy to pin
down—he's been single for a long time and there must be a
reason for it. And don't worry about your father. If things don't work
out for you and Luke I'll make sure he understands that C & D's
two biggest stockholders would look very unfavorably on Luke's
departure."
Randy couldn't quite believe what she was hearing. Her
mother seldom involved herself in the business and never challenged her
father's decisions. "You're talking about yourself and
Grandpa—but would you really do something like that? Dad
would be furious with you."
"If it's necessary I will," Emily answered firmly. "Your
father is being very unfair, not only to Luke and you, but to the
company also. But I doubt it will come to that. After over thirty years
of marriage to a man you know him very well. You've always been your
father's favorite and it isn't easy for him to accept the fact that
you're a woman now and that your love for another man could lead you to
disregard what he considers to be his proper authority. But don't you
think he deserves a little time to get used to the situation? Do make
your peace with him, Randy."
Randy absently agreed, her mind fixed on the phrase, "your
love for another man." Why was everyone in her family so convinced that
she loved Luke Griffin when she herself wasn't? And even more
important, how long would it take before she was finally sure that he
wouldn't turn out to be just another wild, ultimately painful
infatuation?
When Emily and Randy returned to the living room a minute
later Katrina and Luke were still standing side by side, making their
way from group to group and apparently charming everyone in sight. With
only a little prodding from her mother Randy walked up to her father
and slipped a hand through his arm.
"She's really something," she said, nodding toward
Katrina. "Exactly what is she going to do for us?"
Bill seemed startled by his daughter's friendly attitude.
"It was Luke's idea," he began, then mumbled under his breath, "One of
his
good
ideas, as opposed to his bad ones. Are
you all right, honey?"
Randy blushed slightly and said that she was fine.
"And… I'm sorry that I lost my temper before," she added.
"Me too." Bill looked greatly relieved. "About
Katie—we figured that she attracts media attention wherever
she goes, and that's the basic reason we're using her. We'll start by
running a series of ads in the Dallas papers—you know the
type of thing I mean. The first one will be a picture of the
construction site with Katie surrounded by a group of hardhats, and
copy reading something like 'C & D says "Howdy!" to the Big D.'
We'll do several more as construction proceeds, and from now until
we're ready to open Katie will make personal appearances for us. Her
basic job is to act as a spokeswoman and keep our name in front of the
public—to help us generate excitement about the store. I
admit I'm nervous, Dallas is our first major market outside the East,
and you know how rough the competition there is."
As her father talked Randy watched Katrina work the crowd.
She was such an expert that if she'd wanted to she could have charmed a
Bengal tiger into purring like a kitten. Luke continued to stick to her
side like glue, his arm draped over her shoulders. If he hadn't been so
careful to avoid even glancing in Randy's direction his behavior might
have provoked her into some foolhardy sort of retaliation.
Randy spent the next two days working as a saleswoman in
the children's department of the Manhattan store. An army of flu germs
was marching through the city, and Conover-Dunne had been one of the
prime casualties. Perhaps because children were especially susceptible
to the strain of the disease that was going around, the staff of that
department had been continually exposed and thus hardest hit. Randy had
had very little experience with children, but she'd always enjoyed the
imagination and sense of wonder which can turn any little girl or boy
into a superhero or T.V. star. When she wasn't ringing up orders or
helping customers she was playing games with the children, keeping them
occupied while their harried mothers shopped for late summer bargains
or the first clothes of fall. By the time the store closed at five
o'clock on Saturday, however, all she wanted to do was soak in a hot
tub with a good book. All those hours of entertaining had left her
drained.
The last she'd seen of Luke was his departing back as he
walked out the door of her parents' apartment Thursday night with
Katrina Sorensen on his arm. He'd spent Friday morning closeted in his
office, first with the manager and then the assistant manager of the
Philadelphia store. In the afternoon he'd driven out to Garden City.
She knew his schedule because Rita Washington had stopped off in the
children's department Friday evening with a note for her and had
mentioned what a tough morning Luke had had with Marvin Heywood and
then Sheila Kane.
Randy didn't envy him that part of his job. After only a
few weeks at C & D she now understood just how hard he worked
and why he was successful. She realized that people like Luke and her
father had a great many qualities she admired: they were organized,
openminded and knowledgeable, yet capable of putting up a tough,
unemotional facade when it was really necessary. Most important, they
inspired and held the loyalty of those who worked under them despite
the inevitable clashes and disagreements. Randy was beginning to
suspect that she wasn't cut out for clashes and disagreements. She
didn't want to be responsible for thousands of people's jobs. Areas
like public relations or training appealed to her very much, but she
could no longer picture herself as president—at least not for
many years.
The note was from Luke, and took the form of a brief memo
quite obviously dictated into a machine and transcribed by Rita.
"We'll be leaving at eight a.m. Monday
and staying overnight," it read. "I'll pick you up in front of your
building. Please wear jeans and a tee shirt. I would like you to look
as much like an average college girl as you possibly can. We'll spend a
few hours shopping in the store, then meet for lunch to discuss our
reactions. On Tuesday I plan to hold a series of meetings with the
staff, which you can skip or attend as you wish." There was no
signature.
The tone of the memo was so completely impersonal that
Randy read it twice, searching for some hint that Luke really cared
about her. She couldn't find what wasn't there, and his behavior in the
car after he picked her up on Monday only underscored his attitude.
After an unsmiling hello he clicked on the radio and completely ignored
her existence.
Randy might have attributed his distant behavior to her
father's heavyhanded warning but for one fact: since she was dressed in
faded jeans and a tee shirt, with almost no makeup and her hair in a
ponytail, there was no way Luke couldn't recognize her as the "Linda"
from Maine. What they'd already done together rendered Bill Dunne's
lecture a little absurd.
Randy decided that the logical explanation was that Luke was angry with her, so she gave him a full hour to
calm down before she turned off the radio and asked submissively,
"Luke, don't you think we need to talk?"
He gave her a cool look. "There's nothing to talk about.
I've been told to stay away from you and I will. As far as your father
is concerned the past never happened, even though both of us know that
it's a little late in the game for his threats. Don't we?"
It was a rhetorical question; Randy didn't bother to
answer it. It was hard to believe that Luke wouldn't take into account
who she really was. In fact, she'd assumed that he'd be eager to pick
up where they'd left off. Then again, she remembered, he was obviously
still angry. There was no point in trying to reason with him until he'd
cooled down. But still, she argued back, was his job so much more
important to him than she was that he wasn't willing to take even the
slightest risk to see her? The thought hurt dreadfully.
When he turned the radio back on she bit her lip and kept
her mouth shut. Her eyes misted over and a few tears slipped out, but
if Luke noticed her brush them away he didn't say anything.
They reached the store shortly after it opened and walked
silently inside. "Just look around, pretend to shop and see how you're
treated," Luke instructed. He was treating her as though they'd met
only that morning. "I'll meet you in the restaurant at twelve-thirty."
At least, Randy thought resignedly, his impersonal tone
was an improvement over his earlier sarcasm. She offered a meek, "Okay,
Luke," and walked off to look for the junior department.
It was where she seemed to belong. Her blue jeans had come
from a discount store in Los Angeles and her tee shirt had the logo of
a friend's band on it. In short, nothing about her appearance indicated
that she was anything other than a typical middle-class girl. After two
hours of shopping in the junior department and several others, she'd
decided that the attitude of the salespeople in the store ranged from
pleasant to bored and unhelpful. No one was actually nasty to her, but
the friendly warmth that C & D was known for was largely
absent. Given the reception she'd probably receive it was sheer
perversity to check on the designer boutiques, but Randy couldn't
resist.
She was carefully looking through some formal gowns when a
saleswoman walked up to her. Although the traditional "May I help you,
miss?" sounded polite enough, the woman's manner clearly indicated that
Randy was in the wrong department.
"I was just looking," Randy answered pleasantly,
continuing to look through the dresses.
The woman's smile turned wintry. "These dresses are very
expensive, dear," she informed Randy in a patronizing tone. "Perhaps
you should try the junior department."
"I was looking for something special," Randy explained. "I
do have a C & D credit card, ma'am."
"I'm sure you do, dear. And it probably has a limit of
several hundred dollars. Most of the gowns in this department cost over
a thousand dollars."