won’t be much of that, either.” Her voice was soft, melodious. “My business isn’t in chaos, Jack, it just needs a loving hand to oversee it being unwrapped in San Antonio.”
Her words produced startling images in his brain. Suddenly he saw himself sitting by a warm fireplace in some secluded little hideaway, removing the layers of her clothing one by one.
Was that just an acquired tan or was that the true hue of her skin?
Stunned, Jack pulled back.
What the hell was going on here? He didn’t care if her tan was painted on, it made no difference to him. What was he doing, thinking like that?
He jumped on the words she’d used. “This isn’t a love affair, it’s a business—”
“It’s both,” she corrected before he could continue.
She obviously couldn’t have lost him more if she’d thrown him headlong into the center of a cattle stampede and then ridden off, leaving him to be trampled.
“That’s actually the name, you know.”
“The name of what?”
“My jewelry store.” What did he think she was talking about? Obviously the man wasn’t as sharp as his father thought he was. “It’s called ‘Love Affair.’” She enunciated slowly for his benefit. His face looked like a road map to confusion. “Because that’s what all my designs center around.”
“A love affair,” he repeated incredulously.
“With the skin.” Even as she emphasized the concept, she could see that he wasn’t following her. Not a dreamer, this one. What a surprise. She tried again, repeating her philosophy for him and speaking very slowly.
“The jewelry I design is supposed to be a love affair with the skin it touches, with the woman who owns the piece.”
She could see that she wasn’t getting through to him. Definitely not a sensitive man. She blew out a breath, unconsciously propping a fisted hand on her waist. “Work with me here.”
He laughed dryly. The sound left her cold. “I don’t seem to have a choice.”
She cocked her head, doing an instant analysis. From where she was standing, it wasn’t hard to read between the lines. His father was making him do this. “You don’t strike me as someone who resigns himself to not having choices.”
Was she trying to flatter him? Or pretending to be intuitive? He couldn’t tell and it annoyed him not to be able to read her.
He decided to put her off for the time being, until he regrouped. “Look, as I said earlier, this would be much more productive if we rescheduled. Frankly, I just got off the plane and I’m not at my best.”
“You have a gift for understatement I see.” She couldn’t help it. The words had broken free of their own accord. He’d handed her just too perfect a straight line. She flushed. “I mean—”
“Yes.” He cut her off, trying not to notice that the soft-pink hue of lipstick gave her an alluring look. “I know exactly what you mean.” Since she was his only assignment while he was here in San Antonio, his schedule was pretty much open. Still, he did want to catch up with Derek while he was here and to see a few people who’d been out in the New York office until recently. “How does the day after tomorrow sound? Say around nine?”
She was happy to learn that he liked getting an early start. So did she. At least they had one thing in common. “That sounds fine to me.” Since he hadn’t mentioned location, she asked, “Where would you like to meet?”
At her new shop would be the perfect place, but it occurred to him that he didn’t know if she had even selected a location yet or if she was still scouting them out. “Have you given any thought to where the shop is going to be?”
There he went again, treating her as if she had a brain the size of a pea. “As a matter of fact, I have. And it’s perfect.”
He’d be the judge of that, Jack thought. “All right, I’ll come by and pick you up at your place and then we can take a look at this so-called perfect place.”
She was in purgatory, Gloria thought, and doing penance for all the past sins of her life. But that was all right, she could get through this, she told herself. That which doesn’t kill us makes us stronger, she recalled. And at this rate, she was going to be one hell of a strong woman.
“Fine.” Taking a small pad out of her purse, she wrote down the necessary information for him. She tore off the page and handed it to Jack, tucking the pad back into her purse. “Here’s the address.”
“Fine,” Jack murmured as he pocketed the slip of paper.
“Fine,” she echoed. But it was definitely not fine in her book and wouldn’t be fine until she had this man and the stick he had swallowed removed from her life. “Until then,” she said prophetically, then walked out of the office.
Gloria lengthened her stride considerably once she was out of the office. Hurrying past Doris at the receptionist’s desk she had the presence of mind to offer the woman a quick, perfunctory smile. Gloria didn’t slow down until she reached the elevator. She couldn’t wait to get away.
Entering the elevator, she felt the air immediately hitch in her throat.
What a jerk, she thought angrily. What a damn pompous jerk.
Trying to rein in the anger that was spiking through her, she punched the button for Christina’s floor. She did not want to deal with Jack Fortune. She stared at the numbers as she descended.
Gloria caught her lower lip between her teeth, thinking. Maybe she’d ask her mother to speak to Patrick. There was no question that she’d rather deal with the senior Fortune than his stuck-up sarcastic snob of a son. The two men were as different as night and day.
And then she frowned.
She wasn’t nine and involved in some scrap in the schoolyard. She was thirty years old, for God’s sake, and had been around the proverbial block a few times. More than a few. Even at nine, she hadn’t gone running to her mother for help. She’d always settled her own fights.
Nothing should have changed. She could handle the holier-than-thou Mr. Jack Fortune and she could do it with aplomb.
She calmed down as the idea of putting him in his place began to take hold. The man would never know what hit him, she promised herself. She’d gotten through rehab, a rotten marriage and dealt with an entire boatload of guilt and remorse along the way. Compared to that, dealing with Jack Fortune should be an absolute snap.
To underscore the thought, she snapped her fingers just as the elevator door opened. Right on time.
She grinned as she stepped out.
Christina held her questions in check until they were seated at the restaurant she’d selected; a fashionable one located on the tenth floor of the Fortune-Rockwell Bank building. Far from an employee cafeteria, it had earned a reputation for both its food and its affordable prices. Ever the practical one, her older sister had judged that although
