Authors: Brooke Hastings
"California. I'm only visiting here." Randy sensed that
Aaron was attracted to her and since she didn't want any involvement
she added, "I'm going up to New Hampshire tomorrow, and then moving to
New York. I've had a lot of fun tonight, though. Thanks for not
spoiling things."
"I've been waiting to get you alone for the past two
hours," Aaron said. "And as far as thanking me goes, there are more
suitable ways than with words."
With a smile, Randy twined her arms around his neck and
brushed her lips over his mouth. The kiss was something of an
experiment for her, a way of finding out whether she could touch a man
without instinctively recoiling. The answer turned out to be yes, and
when Aaron deepened the kiss, turning a superficial caress into a
possessive discovery of her mouth, she was surprised by how pleasurable
it was. She supposed that Aaron was appealing to her without being
too
appealing; she could enjoy the kiss without worrying that she'd be
tempted to go too far.
After several seconds she gently pulled away, saying she
wanted to go inside, but Aaron didn't seem discouraged by her
withdrawal. "Can I have your New York address and phone number before
we leave?" he asked. "I'm down in the city every month or two and I'd
like to take you to dinner." When Randy agreed he took her arm to
escort her back to the house, well-pleased with himself.
Later, driving home, the two sisters laughingly discussed
the evening. Randy told Linda what had happened in the garden,
admitting, "I have to thank you twice, once for all the fun I had
tonight, and the second time for helping me find out that Sean Raley
didn't warp me for life."
"Are you going to see Aaron again?" Linda asked.
Randy shrugged. "I will if he calls. It's the least I owe
him. Besides, I really did like him. I guess your theory about how to
get over an unhappy love affair makes sense."
"Just don't overdo it," Linda quickly answered. "Too much
of a good thing can be a mistake. Take it from me, I know."
On Saturday morning Linda drove out to western
Massachusetts, to the inn where she'd arranged to meet Tom Havemeyer.
Although Randy wondered why Linda was keeping the date at all, she told
herself that her sister was far more knowledgeable about breaking off a
love affair than she would ever be. In the meantime, she enjoyed being
alone, especially at night. The twin mattresses and box springs were
now attached to frames and a king-sized headboard, all of which had
arrived on Friday, and although there was plenty of room in the bed
Linda was a restless sleeper whose tossing and turning had kept Randy
up at night.
Randy spent a couple of hours on Saturday morning catching
up on her sleep, and then, her energy restored, decided to tackle the
house. Although the walls were papered and the floors refinished, the
workers had left sawdust, strips of paper and other miscellaneous
debris scattered everywhere. Since Randy was accustomed to daily dance
and exercise classes she enjoyed the physical labor involved in
sweeping and washing and polishing. She felt a real sense of
accomplishment when she was finished, but had enough of a sense of
humor to realize that if she wanted the place to stay as clean as she'd
made it, she would have to hire her sister a housekeeper.
Linda returned on Monday morning, looked around at the
spotless apartment and rewarded Randy with a huge hug. "This is
fantastic," she said. "I was going to hire a cleaning service, but now
I don't need to bother."
The phones had been installed earlier that morning,
prompting Linda to continue, "Let me make a few calls. I'll bet if I
coax hard enough I can get the carpets here tomorrow and the furniture
delivered on Wednesday and Thursday. Which means that I can go away
with Roger on Friday. Do you mind?"
Roger
? Randy thought.
Who's
he
? But all she said was, "Of course not. In fact, I was
thinking of driving up to New Hampshire in a few days. I don't have any
way to reach Sarah, but as far as I know she's still at the cabin."
"Perfect," Linda said. Ninety minutes later, after the
most dazzling display of pleading and flattery that Randy had ever
witnessed, she managed to schedule every item of furniture except for
the dinette set.
"They won't bring it till Friday," she told Randy. "Can
you wait around for it? If not, I could talk to Mrs. Siskin downstairs
and—"
"No problem," Randy interrupted. "All I really want to do
is hear about your weekend. I'm dying of curiosity."
They sat down at the cardtable in the dinette, Linda
bringing in a couple of cans of soda from the kitchen. "You would have
been proud of me," she began. "I spent all of Saturday listening to
Tom's problems and convincing him to try again with his wife. He went
off to the room to sulk and I went into dinner. They serve it
family-style, at long tables. And the most gorgeous male just happened
to sit down next to me." She winked at Randy. "By this morning we were
the best of friends."
"That would be Roger," Randy guessed, thinking that she
needed a scorecard to keep track of Linda's male friends.
"Right. But you can relax because he's divorced. He's a
producer and he lives in New York. He's terribly
high-powered—he went to Massachusetts to relax for a couple
of days. He needs to scout locations along the New England coast for a
movie he's doing, and he asked me to come along. Naturally I said yes."
"So what did Tom do? Leave?" Randy wondered if her sister
had any feelings at all for the man. She'd liked him enough to meet him
twice, so she must have.
Linda shrugged. "To tell you the truth, Randy, it was
never much of an affair. That first weekend I could tell how ambivalent
he was, so I put him off. We didn't even share a room. He has a lot of
problems and I think having an affair was a way of making himself feel
more masculine, or of getting back at his wife. It wasn't really
me
he wanted. I only agreed to meet him this weekend because it was easier
than arguing, but I wouldn't have gone if you hadn't told me about his
brother-in-law. Anyway, he stayed around till Sunday and then left. I
hope the owner didn't notice that I was still there with
Roger—heaven only knows what she would have thought."
"Ah, yes, Roger," Randy teased. "How long is
he
going to last?"
She was surprised when Linda avoided a direct answer. "I
want you to meet him, to find out what you think. Why don't I call to
see if he can come up Thursday and take us both out to dinner?"
Linda had never before solicited anyone's opinion of her
boyfriends, and Randy was flattered to be asked. She was also pleased
that her sister was showing some caution for a change. "I'd enjoy
that," she said. "And when you're finished talking to Roger, can I
phone Dad? He's probably convinced himself that I've either drowned in
the lake or been eaten by a bear by now." She hesitated a moment.
"Since I'm going up to New Hampshire in a few days anyway, do you think
it would be dishonest of me to let him think I'm already there and that
everything's been fine? Just so he won't worry?"
"Knowing Dad, I would say that it's not only not
dishonest, it's simple self-preservation," Linda joked. She winked at
Randy and headed for the phone.
Luke Griffin and William Dunne had managed to get through
an hour-long meeting without either of them alluding to the subject
that was on both their minds, but Luke supposed it couldn't continue
much longer. He'd received a second hysterical phone call from his
sister around lunchtime, and every protective instinct told him to do
whatever was necessary to get Linda Franck out of his brother-in-law's
life. But he wasn't fool enough to tackle the woman without first
asking her father's permission.
"I understand your reluctance to move on the problem in
our Philadelphia store," Bill was saying, "but the profits aren't
getting any better in the meantime."
Luke realized that. "Let me wait till the six-month
figures come in," he said. "I'll be on firmer ground then. I've shaken
things up enough without starting to fire people, and the
resentment…"
"Right. I'm only offering advice, Luke, not giving you an
order." Bill took a cigar out of a humidor on his desk, a signal to
Luke that the formal part of their meeting was over. Luke knew what was
coming next, even before Bill lit his cigar and leaned back in his
chair. "How's your sister doing?" he asked.
"Upset," Luke answered. First and foremost he wanted to
avoid another argument. He'd behaved totally gracelessly the week
before and was only grateful that Bill Dunne hadn't done anything more
than throw him out of the office. "Her husband had to 'work' again last
weekend," he explained, "but he left his coat at the inn where he
stayed with your daughter and the owner called his house a few hours
ago to say she'd mail it back." He shook his head. "I can't believe he
was stupid enough to give them his home number."
"Terrific." Bill muttered a curse underneath his breath as
his eyes lit on the photograph on his desk. The picture showed the
Dunne family at the beach, and Luke guessed it was about ten years old.
The bikini-clad young woman on the right of Bill and Emily was
obviously Linda, and Luke had to admit that she was delectable with her
long blond hair and slender curves. Randy, in a one-piece suit to her
parents' left, still had braces on her teeth and a bit too much baby
fat. Luke knew she'd improved with age because he'd seen her diaper
commercial on television, and he figured that if she lost ten or
fifteen pounds she wouldn't be half-bad.
"Listen to me, Luke," Bill continued. "I wish I could
promise you that it would solve matters if I talked to Linda, but I
can't be sure it would. If she's really infatuated with your
brother-in-law she might not listen. But in all fairness to Lin, you
have to admit that your brother-in-law wasn't exactly dragged kicking
and screaming into this business."
Bill was only partially right, but Luke had more sense
than to point out that Tom had no track record as an adulterer whereas
Linda was an old pro. "Would you mind if I went up to Cambridge to talk
to her?" he asked.
"In person?" Bill smiled, looking as though he thought it
would be a waste of time. "You're welcome to try. In fact, I wish you
luck." He paused, then drawled, "But I should warn you that more than
one man has found my daughter rather irresistible, Luke."
"I'll keep it in mind." Luke looked at the picture again,
thinking that he could well believe it. Perhaps talking to the woman
was the wrong approach, a thought that suggested an alternate plan.
After a few moments of thought he said casually, "I may need to take a
couple of days off."
Whatever comment Bill Dunne might have made was lost in
the buzz of his intercom. Pat put through only the most important calls
when Bill was in a meeting, so Luke automatically started to get up to
leave. But before he was halfway out of his chair Bill waved him back
down.
"Speak up, honey," he said into the phone. "It's a bad
connection."
Bill's next few questions—"How's the weather up
there? When are you coming home? Are you sure you're
okay?"—told Luke that he was talking to his daughter Miranda.
He'd heard via the secretarial grapevine that Miranda Dunne was in New
Hampshire for a couple of weeks. He'd also heard that she was sorely
displeased with her father for suggesting that Luke would be a suitable
husband. Luke himself didn't take Bill's efforts in that direction
seriously; the girl was much too young for him, in terms of both years
and experience.
Bill, having satisfied himself that Randy was alive and
well, held out the phone to Luke. "Why don't you say hello?" he
suggested.
Luke, unable to resist milking the moment for all it was
worth, asked Bill to switch on the speaker so that both of them could
listen in. Then, in the most suavely charming tone he could muster, he
drawled, "Miranda, this is Luke Griffin. I hope you're enjoying
yourself in New Hampshire. I'm looking forward to meeting you when you
get back."
He wondered if she would freeze up the line from New
Hampshire to New York, but all that came back was a girlish simper.
"Luke who? I'm sorry, but do I know who you are?"
Luke choked back laughter. "You know exactly who I am, but
I'll tell you anyway," he said. "I'm the new vice president for Branch
Operations, and I'll be your boss when you start work at C &
D." He couldn't stop himself from adding, "Which I hope will be very
soon, Miranda. Your father's told me all about you and I plan to work
very closely with you."
The explosion he half-anticipated never came. Instead
Randy gushed back, "How exciting! I'm sure you'll teach me everything
you know."
Luke glanced at Bill, who looked mildly disapproving, and
said outrageously, "You can count on it, sweetheart."
Several seconds of silence followed this statement.
Finally Randy answered curtly, "Please say goodbye to my father for me,
Mr. Griffin. My three minutes are almost up." She hung up before either
man could get out a word.
"You shouldn't have teased her that way," Bill said,
replacing the receiver. "She obviously took you seriously and she's
annoyed with you."
The pang of guilt Luke felt didn't last very long. "Don't
worry, Bill," he said with a wink. "I can handle your daughter without
any problems." But as he got up to leave he wondered whether his claim
applied to the older daughter as well as the younger one.
Three days later, much to Linda's amusement, Randy was
still muttering about how pompous and arrogant Luke Griffin was. Part
of the problem was that she'd had too much time to think about the man.
By the time the first day of waiting for deliveries drew to a close,
Linda was restless to the point of insanity— Randy's
insanity. Randy finally ordered her sister out to shop or visit friends
while she herself stayed in the apartment. For the next two days Linda
had flitted in and out of the house while Randy spent her time reading
or unpacking cartons. She was truly awed by the number of stores Linda
had ordered from, and by now was nodding weakly whenever a trucker
asked for Mrs. Franck, signing Linda's name to the delivery slips quite
automatically.