reached out and grabbed her left hand. Her skin was smooth in his grasp, and her blue eyes widened and her mouth dropped open into a little O shape that he decided he liked. She had kissable lips. But then, she always had. Her mouth had been the first thing he’d noticed about her, back when they’d both been eighteen. And that kiss that night…
“We definitely have to catch up,” Mark said, shoving his libido aside as he began his offensive. “My parents will want to hear everything about you, especially since Herb is an old friend. And Joann won’t believe that we ran into each other like this.”
“That’s all?” Lisa stared.
“Well, no,” Mark began, his tone foreshadowing the condition he was about to insist on.
“Lisa.” A harsh male voice cut sharply through the conversation like a butcher knife. “What exactly are you doing?”
The moment the older man stepped fully into the hotel meeting room, Mark observed an immediate reaction in Lisa. She jerked her hand from his as the man closed the door behind him and stared through wire-rim glasses down his pointed nose. He had to be in his early forties, but somehow he seemed so much older.
When he spoke again, his voice was clipped. “Lisa, job. Herb trusts you. Tonight is extremely important and—”
“I’m Mark Smith,” Mark interrupted, his eyes narrowing at the man’s public chastisement. Speaking of politically incorrect behavior, did the man not see Mark’s name tag? “I’m Larry Smith’s son. You are…?”
“Bradley Wayne. I supervise Herb’s campaign.”
“He’s the campaign manager,” Lisa corrected, her tone brutally polite. “I’m the fund-raiser. Together we’ve partnered to get Herb elected.”
Bravo, Mark thought. He’d never known Lisa to be a wimp, which is why it bugged him so much she’d just disappeared that night.
Bradley’s lips frowned displeasure. “And, partner, I need for you to pull your weight. I’d expect this type of behavior from marriage-obsessed Andrea but not from you.”
Lisa crossed her arms and ramrodded her back. “We were discussing his donation check.”
“Which is why you were holding hands.” Bradley’s reply held just a trace of sarcasm.
Mark stared, his business acumen assessing the man in a nanosecond. Given the undercurrents, there was something more here than met the eye. Had Lisa been interested in the guy once? Surely not, Mark decided.
While Bradley Wayne might be an attractive man on the surface, with his perfect hair and manicured nails, he was the type of guy dominated by only one agenda—his own. Men could spot the worst type of their gender immediately, and Mark considered himself an expert after fending off the sharks only out to purchase and subsequently gut his family’s company. Mark inserted himself back into the conversation.
“Actually, Bradley, you’re right. We were holding hands. Lisa was explaining my role in pass-the-hat and we haven’t seen each other in years. Way too long.”
“His sister is my best friend,” Lisa added quickly. She gazed at Mark. “And long enough.”
Ah, the gauntlet, Mark thought. Lisa was mad at him. But for what? He’d shown up in the ballroom to meet her and she’d been gone.
“Well, if you are such old friends, then everything is perfectly acceptable. Lisa, you know I always have your best interests at heart,” Bradley said, his voice too smooth for Mark’s liking.
“Mr. Smith, I’m sorry I arrived at any unnecessary conclusions,” Bradley continued pleasantly, coming across to Mark as one of those disinterested customer-service representatives working at a call center. “My reaction and words were unprofessional and I apologize. My only explanation is that Lisa is my protégée. I’ve been training her these past two years. Now that’s she’s branched out on her own, I want to see her succeed. Tonight is the first major event in St. Louis whose success rests solely on her shoulders, and I want to make certain nothing goes wrong.”
Bradley reached over and drew Lisa aside. “How about I take over explaining the pass-the-hat event to Mr. Smith? That way you can take care of things outside.”
“That sounds fine.” Lisa moved toward the door.
Mark frowned. No way. She was not going to walk away from him again. Not when she owed him an explanation at the very least. “Lisa, wait.”
She stopped, turned, and Mark focused his attention on Bradley. The man shifted his weight under Mark’s scrutiny. “Bradley—I hope you don’t mind if I call you that—I find myself respectfully disagreeing with this current situation. I’d like to suggest that Lisa explains what I’m to do, since this is her event. It should be her call.”
“I am the campaign manager,” Bradley offered with a patronizing smile that didn’t reach his narrowing eyes. “Herb promoted Lisa upon my advice. Lisa, Mr. and Mrs. Auble have asked to meet Herb, so be sure that happens before the end of the evening. The Aubles plan to let Herb and Bunny spend a week at their lake house.”
“I’m on it.” Lisa returned to pushing the door open.
“Then after the speech you, Mr. Smith, will…”
But Mark ignored him and followed Lisa to the door. No matter how tough Lisa wanted to make this, Mark was determined to make it tougher for her to get away. He put his hand on hers and caught her in the middle of the doorway. “I asked you to wait,” he said.
She shook her head, a blond tendril falling out of the updo and landing in front of her ear. She freed her hand and deliberately pushed the wayward lock back. “I have to go. Thanks for starting the hat.”
“We aren’t done talking,” he said. “You and I have unfinished business.”
Her eyes widened for a moment before she regained her composure. “Okay, perhaps we can talk for a few moments afterward,” Lisa conceded. “I’m seeing my parents Saturday and I won’t live it down if I don’t bring news. And Joann would kill me if we don’t talk.”
“Still not acceptable,” Mark said.
Lisa appeared startled at his firm tone, and Mark used the moment to deal with the insufferable Bradley Wayne.
“Mr. Wayne, I’m quite prepared to fulfill my father’s obligations tonight. But I have a problem. I’m dateless and I dislike dining alone at a table full of strangers. I insist that Lisa be my guest. I haven’t seen her for eight years and would like to catch up.”
Bradley wore a stunned expression, as if someone had suggested letting beggars attend a royal ball. “She has a job to do.”
“Exactly. Fund-raising,” Mark inserted. “My father and Herb pledged the fraternity together and are good friends. I’d hate to go home and tell my dad about the miserable time I had and that I just couldn’t, in good conscience, donate his two thousand and two of my own….” Mark purposely paused. “Anyway, I promise to look after Lisa and get that hat moving.”
Bradley’s upper lip curled and Mark faced Lisa. Her jaw had dropped slightly, and she quickly closed her mouth. He’d dumbfounded her. He could almost
