book, even her various passwords. All her vital information was stored on that contraption! She would rather have lost an arm.
She began to search her office, starting with the drawers of her desk, which was a rather strange-looking antique made of rattan and glass that creaked under any kind of weight. Actually, the entire office was strange, although Tess loved the wraparound windows that surrounded her from behind. She wasn’t as crazy about the enormous German Messerschmitt airplane nose coming out of the wall facing her desk. The last occupant had clearly been a World War II nut. There was a glass case of army divisional patches, of which the 101st Airborne Screaming Eagle was her favorite. That was one pissed-off bird. If she could ever remember, she would have to ask why all the paraphernalia had been left behind.
She’d been told she could redecorate on the company’s budget, but there hadn’t been time to think about that. Meanwhile, she wanted to duck every time she looked up and saw the plane. She felt like she was about to be strafed.
“Where the hell?” She lifted a stack of account files and searched through the rattan baskets sitting on the credenza behind her desk. Nothing. The PDA had vanished. Maybe she hadn’t left it on the crystal box?
She noticed her quilted coat hanging on the coatrack and reminded herself to check the pockets. At the same time, she saw the blinking message light on her office phone. She’d missed that completely when she came in.
She picked up the receiver and punched in her voice-mail password. At least she had that one memorized. The disembodied electronic voice told her she had several new messages, and she raced through them until she got to one from Erica Summers. The CEO’s musical voice filled her ear.
“Tess, I just found out that Danny Gabriel can’t make our little dinner tonight. He left a message saying that he’d run into you this morning and was very favorably impressed, so didn’t feel a pressing need to attend tonight. Apparently he’s up against a deadline.” Erica sniffed. “We’ll just have to muddle through without him, won’t we? Looking forward to it, Tess.”
Tess hung up the phone and swore softly. Gabriel had just blown her off, and he’d used the company CEO to do it. The guy had balls. He would be conspicuous by his absence at dinner tonight, an obvious sign to the board that he didn’t consider his new codirector important enough to bother with.
Tess had feared the dinner might not go well, but this was ridiculous. She took a deep breath, willing herself to let it go and get back to work. She still had to find her PDA. There was no time to waste on professional ego trips, and she felt certain that’s what this was. But a half hour later she’d given up on the search—and she was still steaming over Danny’s slight. She couldn’t concentrate on anything but her outrage, which wasn’t like her at all.
The desk gave out a noisy groan as she rose.
So, Danny Gabriel was impressed, was he? She was about to make an even deeper impression on him. It was almost four o’clock by her watch. He shouldn’t have left the building yet, if he truly had so much work to do. She had no idea where his office was, but she would search until she found it.
Chapter Three
Tess clicked down the hall in her high-heel boots, pencil skirt and black velvet Edwardian jacket. It was five-fifteen, and she had forty-five minutes before the limo was scheduled to pick her up for the reception. She’d decided to change into her dinner outfit and let Gabriel get a look at what he’d be missing—and call him on his blatant attempt to undermine her on her big night. You never got a second chance to make a first impression, and this was her chance with the company brass, which he very well knew. She even managed to get the kinks out of her hair with a special spray that relaxed and defrizzed. It had loosened her curls, and now they were bouncing all over her head. Extra-large silver hoop earrings and a kiss-my-ass attitude rounded out the look.
She’d also had two cups of Mitzi’s tea. No one could say Tess Wakefield didn’t live dangerously.
Check it out, Gabe, baby. This is the lady you kicked to the curb. Maybe you should watch your shins. She’s wearing boots.
Tess had never felt so tricked-out and sexy. It was almost fun. She figured it was the PMS or the tea, but either way, she had a few choice words for her codirector. She’d called the agency’s receptionist for directions to his office, which had turned out to be quite simple. He was on the opposite end of the building from her, in his own corner office.
The twenty-eighth floor was now a ghost town. Tess didn’t see another soul as she crossed the building. Everyone had gone for the weekend, but if Gabriel really had a deadline, he might still be around.
His office door was open when she got there, but she found no one inside. The room was mostly windows and traditional in style, which surprised her. She’d expected to find a dark, artsy lair, with decor that might even be mystical. One of the many rumors about him was that he had Native American blood. Instead, everything was ma-hogany, beautifully carved with reflecting-pool surfaces and damask upholstery. It reminded her of a federal court, except for the two walls of posters showcasing his ads.
Tess took a moment to check them out. He was very good, but she knew that. What struck her was the unexpected way the ads were displayed. On one side of the room, they were bright and upbeat, with vibrant colors and attractive models. On the other side, the ads had a dark edginess that bordered on sinister. But, even more perplexing, on the abutting wall hung just one poster—a misty pastel of a child in a swing, rising toward the setting sun. It almost looked as if she were going to slip off the seat and fly away.
What a strange juxtaposition, Tess thought. It was enough to make you wonder if Gabriel was bipolar. Mitzi had said he had a secret. Tess was curious whether the ads might have something to do with that, but there wasn’t time to explore. She turned and saw a set of double doors that led to what looked like a conference room. The doors were partially open, and she could see movement inside. Maybe he was in there, preparing for his deadline.
Tess peeked through the doors and saw Gabriel bent over a storyboard, probably checking out the sketches for a client’s television spot. “Am I interrupting?” she asked, opening the doors.
He glanced up at her and did a double take. She couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes narrowed. Whether it was appreciation or appraisal, she couldn’t tell, but his gaze was riveting.
“You’re perfect,” he said. “Come in.”
“What?”
“You’re wearing boots, a skirt. It’s perfect.” He beckoned her over to him. “Come on in.”
Tess didn’t move from the doorway.
He took a chair from the conference table and rolled it to within a few feet of where she stood. She had no idea what he was doing as he positioned the chair in front of the doors.
“Right here,” he said. “Come over and sit down, please. I have something to show you.”
The please did the trick. She couldn’t resist conviction.
She walked to the chair, aware of him standing there with his hands on the leather back, as if he were about to give her a ride.
“Are you going to tell me why I’m doing this?” she asked, wondering what would happen to her very skinny skirt when she sat. Surely he wasn’t angling for that, a leg shot.
“All
