ad board, one of many that lined the walls of the store. “That’s them.”
She saw the ad for Diamond Cabs, read the number, then looked back at the man. “Thanks,” she said and went back outside.
There was no sign of Matt, and she paused for a moment, a bit shocked when she realized how her life had shifted in the past hour. Crazy. She felt a bit insane at the speed of the changes in it, but there was an exhilaration, too, partly due to her desire to get this job on her own, with her own talent and work, and partly because she knew that she was going to face Matthew Terrel as Brittany Lewis in one week, and get an apology from him.
She called the cab company on her cell phone to get a ride to her family home south of the city. While she waited for it to arrive, she put in a call to her father. It rang four times before it went to his service. She left a quick message, just saying she had arrived in Houston safely, and she’d call him tomorrow evening with details about her job with LynTech.
As she hung up, she realized how relieved she was that she hadn’t had to talk to him directly. It had been hard enough twisting the truth with Matt, but she’d never get away with it with her father. So, the less he knew, the better.
December 12
BY THE TIME BRITTANY returned to LynTech the next morning at nine o’clock, she’d slept sporadically, finished a rough idea for the wall murals for the center and dressed to look like Brittany Lewis. A beige silk shirt, perfectly tailored slacks in taupe linen, leather sandals and her curls swept back with diamond combs and falling to her shoulders. She looked somewhat like a “spoiled brat” she thought, with gold added at her wrist and ears. It would be perfect for her meeting with Matt’s assistant.
She parked her sports car down the street in a public garage, gathered up her small leather tote bag, her purse and her portfolio, then walked up the block along the Christmasy street. The drive had taken forever last night with Matt, but now she seemed to get to LynTech in the blink of an eye. She took a breath, then stepped into LynTech, crossed the lobby filled with the scent of pine from a towering Christmas tree, to head for the elevators near the back. She first went up to the executive level and was thankful that she’d remembered there was a ladies’ restroom immediately to her right in the corridor.
She stepped inside the sitting area done in lavenders and pale turquoise, spotted a small couch and crossed to it. She slipped her tote and the envelope behind the overstuffed pillows, stood back, glanced at herself in the mirrors that lined the walls, then with a flip of her curls, slipped back out into the corridor.
A gray-haired man in a navy uniform was coming down the hall and stopped when he saw her. “Can I help you, Miss?”
“I’m Brittany Lewis. I have an appointment with Mr. Terrel,” she said quickly, then motioned to the offices her father had used for so many years. “Is that his office?”
“No, ma’am, that’s Mr. Holden’s office,” he said, then motioned in the opposite direction. “Mr. Terrel’s down there, the third door on the right.”
“Thanks,” she murmured, then passed him to head to Matt’s office. The thick carpet in the monotoned corridor muffled her footsteps. She stopped by the double doors labeled simply M. Terrel. She pushed back one of the doors, and, as she stepped into the reception area, her heart started to pound.
“Please let him not be here,” she prayed as she looked around the large space, starkly modern in design, with glass and black marble in sleek lines and very little of it. There were a few shelves, a couple of plants, a tiny Christmas tree, all silver and blue, sitting in front of low windows and a huge reception desk. A woman sat behind it, working at a computer, and she looked up as Brittany went farther into the room.
“May I help you?” she asked as she turned toward Brittany.
“Miss Lewis to see Mr. Terrel.”
The woman looked at her for just a fraction of a second too long, before she fell into her “professional” face with a nice smile. “Oh, Miss Lewis, I’m sorry. Mr. Terrel isn’t in yet.”
Brittany was surprised at the degree of relief she felt at not having to face Matt. She smiled, hoping that the expression didn’t look too forced. “Oh, I’m the one who’s sorry,” she said with determined politeness. “I was supposed to be here yesterday, but got held up in London. The Season’s in full swing and the parties and shopping….” She rolled her eyes expressively. “Well, you know how it can be.” She waved her free hand. “But I made it, finally.”
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