Seducing His Heart Page 18

  Her uncertain life had taken a sharp turn. From idle to beyond busy. Her mind skipped from one pleasurable pastime to another—working hard, furnishing the most charming house on the East Coast, and making love with the most wonderful man in the world. She laughed and spoke to Dumpling and Homer. “How did I get so lucky?”

  The female barked.

  “I know, girl. I’m lucky to have you, too.” Bess’s face hurt from smiling. Although the sky was overcast and the scent of snow was in the air, it was a sunny spring day for her.

  She steered the dogs back home. The Dinner Club was due to arrive in time for Whit’s broadcast. Bess played pop music and danced while she prepared hors d’oeuvres and dinner. She finished off the remnants of a bottle of Cabernet as she moved from the counter to the stove and back.

  At six thirty, her buzzer sounded. The Dinner Club ladies had arrived. Mugs of hot buttered rum were passed around. Dogs circled and played before finding warm spots to plop down and sleep.

  Brooke took down plates, Miranda got the silverware, and Rory corralled wine glasses.

  Bess turned on the television and set out a buffet on the stove. The hearty meal of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and Brussels sprouts was consumed while the women watched Whit turn the evidence over to the police on the news. He kept her confidence when asked where he got the book. He asked the police chief some hard questions.

  Pride filled Bess’s heart. He’s incredible. What a story. Delivered it all perfectly.

  As the women were cleaning up, they asked about Terry.

  “So, he left you in danger, but then you found the notebook, and now you’re safe?” Brooke raised an eyebrow.

  “Something like that.” Bess covered the leftover meatloaf.

  “And you decided, right now, to give it to Whit?” Miranda stopped and looked at her.

  “Okay, okay. It sounds fishy. I can’t talk about what happened. I’m grateful the notebook is with the police and not in my apartment anymore.”

  “Whit looked like a hero,” Rory said.

  “He is. He’s my hero.”

  The women froze. They stared at Bess. Heat rose to her cheeks.

  “What?”

  “Whit belongs to you? I thought he’d never belong to any woman?” Brooke asked.

  Bess didn’t answer. She tucked the containers of leftovers in the refrigerator.

  “Whit, Mr. No Commit, is the love of your life?” Miranda cocked an eyebrow at Bess.

  “Bess, you didn’t fall for him, did you?” Rory chimed in.

  Unable to avoid their questions, she turned to face them. “Well, maybe. A little. I mean when someone’s done what he’s done for me…”

  “He got you a job, after losing yours in the first place,” Miranda said.

  “It’s the house. It’s…it’s more than that.”

  “It’s sex, right?” Brooke stared at Bess.

  Bess sensed an increase in the heat in her cheeks. “That…and other things.”

  “Are you going to get hurt? Please, Bess. I don’t want you to get hurt,” Rory said.

  “You said it was fun and games with him. Nothing more,” Brooke said.

  “I lied. I know I’m probably in trouble, but I can’t help it. He’s…amazing. And it’s too late. I’m already in love,” Bess said.

  Joy seeped out of the celebration as each friend expressed her doubts about Whit. Bess defended him until she couldn’t. They’re right. I’m probably on the road to disaster, but I can’t stop. I love him.

  The knock on her door at eleven pulled her from her bed. Yawning, she opened the door to a triumphant Whit. He held a bottle of champagne and wore a wicked grin. “Did you see it? Did you see the broadcast?”

  She nodded, rubbing her eyes.

  “The whole city is talking about it. I had several phone interviews with newspapers. That’s why I’m so late. You were in bed?”

  “Been a long day.”

  “Damn. I wanted to celebrate.” Whit put the bubbly in the fridge. “We can wait until tomorrow.” He kissed her. “And it’s all due to you. How can I ever thank you?”

  “You’ve saved me from those bad guys. No thanks necessary. I’m going back to bed. Care to join me?”

  Whit pulled on his tie and followed her. Once in bed, they snuggled together.

  “I want to take you out to a fancy dinner tomorrow. We can celebrate my story and your new job.”

  “Sounds good,” Bess said, the warmth of his body lulling her to sleep.

  “I have something to tell you, too,” he whispered.

  “Fine,” she muttered. Oh my God. He’s going to propose! She smiled once before she was asleep.

  * * * *

  Bess tore her closet apart, looking for the perfect outfit. What does someone wear when a marriage proposal is on the menu? She was so excited she couldn’t keep still.

  The early morning meeting had gone well. Sam had been curt to the point of rude, but she had approved Bess’s ideas. I’ll have to get used to her style. Her new producer didn’t know much about cooking, but he knew about ratings and advertising. They had given her the green light to hire Ned, who had been thrilled at the news.

  Whit’s marriage proposal would be the whipped cream, the hot fudge sauce, and the cherry on the sundae of her life. She paced, trying to calm herself. She spied a teal blue, scoop-necked dress. Perfect!

  After selecting gold jewelry, she ran a bubble bath. Grandma’s gold watch. Aunt Delia’s earrings and matching necklace. By seven thirty, she was ready. She called down to Crash to hail a cab for her. She was meeting Whit at Belle Culottes, a pricey French restaurant on West 55th Street, at eight o’clock, and she didn’t want to be late.

  Wine! She poured a half-glass of wine and downed it quickly, hoping it would settle her nerves. It’s not every day a woman receives a marriage proposal from the man of her dreams. I’ve got a right to be nervous.

  She slipped into the waiting taxi. Always careful with money, Bess had been dying to try the food at Belle Culottes, but didn’t because it was expensive. Her mind raced, wondering what was on the menu. Her stomach growled. She’d been too jumpy for lunch. Something delicious and French. Hmm, lamb? Whit? Food, girl. She giggled in the backseat as the vehicle cut through the late, rush-hour traffic.

  The doorman at the restaurant opened the door and gave a short bow. She mentioned Whit’s name to the Maître d’ and was shown to a table in a quiet corner. Whit was waiting. A bottle of Moet et Chandon was chilling in a silver ice bucket. Butterflies invaded her stomach.

  “You look gorgeous,” he said.

  She smiled, too excited to speak.

  “Champagne?”

  She nodded, watching the waiter fill two flutes.

  Whit raised his in a toast. “To a wonderful life.”

  Bess cocked her head slightly. Not exactly the toast I was expecting.

  “This is the perfect time for both of us. You’re starting a new career in the big-time at Eagle, and I’m following a new path, myself.”

  Marriage. Got it. Right. She grinned at him.

  He looked down before making eye contact with her. Something in his expression made her appetite go south. He took both her hands in his. “I’ve been searching for a way to say this…”

  A tightness gathered in her chest. Ask me! Ask me!

  “I suppose there’s no easy way. Kinda like ripping a bandage off. Gotta pull and it only stings for a second.”

  Sweat gathered under her arms. The constriction in her throat choked back words. No easy way? Bandage? Sting? Can proposing be that difficult?

  “Bess…” he began then hesitated.

  “Yes?” All she could hear was the loud thumping of her heart.

  “I don’t know how to say this.”

  “Spit it out.” Her heartbeat doubled.

  “I got an opportunity…I mean…I’m taking a new job.”

  “New job?” Her heartbeat tripled.

  “I’m going to Asia to write for New Yor
k News Review.”

  Her heart ran into a brick wall. Her throat dried up like a worm on the pavement in the Caribbean sun. Her mind went blank.

  “I’m leaving in two weeks. It’s sort of a dream of mine. To get away. Do something different. Leave the usual behind.”

  She stared at him with wide eyes.

  “I’ll miss you. We’re so great together. But you know I don’t commit. I’ve always said that. You’ve probably got some terrific guy in your back pocket, waiting for me to move over and give him some space. If not, I hope you’ll still want to see me when I get back.” His words sounded brave, but his eyes looked worried.

  Bess thought she’d gone deaf. All she heard was blah, blah, blah…“going to Asia” and, blah, blah…“leave you.” Emotion pushed up against the wall of her chest, but she shoved it down. Her hands twisted the cloth napkin, and her breathing came in short spurts. She stared into space, feeling the blood drain from her face.

  “Bess?”

  She rolled her gaze back to his. He looks pale.

  “Are you all right?” He peered into her eyes. “Do you want some water?”

  As quickly as it shut off, her mind flipped back on. Get out of here. Now. Leave. She put her hands on the table and braced herself. “I don’t feel good. I’m going home.”

  “What? Bess? Are you okay?”

  “No, I’m not.” She felt his hand at her elbow. His eyebrows were knitted. “I’m going home.” Uncertain if her knees would hold her, she stood, her fingers gripping the chair back.

  “Let me settle up for the champagne, and I’ll take you.”

  She touched his forearm. “I’d rather go alone.” The wall in her chest cracked bit by bit. Get out now, while you’re holding it together. Emotion seeped through the cracks and oozed its way up her body, landing first in her stomach then continuing north.

  “I can’t let you go like this. Are you sick?”

  “I’m fine. I’m going.” She moved in slow motion, picking up her coat. “Goodbye, Whit.”

  He rose from the table, still holding her elbow. She ripped her arm from him, took a huge, shuddering breath, and headed for the door.

  “Wait! Bess! I’ll only be a moment.” But she kept going.

  The doorman smiled. “Taxi, miss?”

  She nodded. Her mind blanked out as she rode home. Once inside the house, she was greeted by the pugs. Bess went into the bedroom, peeled off her fancy outfit, and slipped naked into bed. I’m a stupid fool. Tears pushed through. She buried her face in her pillow.

  Some time later, the dogs began to bark. She raised her head and heard the pounding and her name being called. After donning a robe, she padded to the kitchen. She attached Homer’s leash and took him to the front of the apartment.

  “Bess! Open up! Come on. Please?”

  She opened the door and put Homer in Whit’s arms. As she closed it, he put his foot in the way.

  “Wait! Please. Can we talk?”

  “There’s nothing to talk about. You’re going to Asia. That’s that. Here’s your dog. I wish you luck.” She concentrated on her breathing.

  “Wait! I don’t want to part like this.”

  “Oh? And the dinner was to let me down easy? I’ve saved you a big tab. You’ve let me down without the dinner. Let’s call it over, okay?”

  “Not okay. I don’t want to never see you again.”

  “You’re going to be pretty far away for a quick dinner out, Whit.”

  “Look, I thought we were on the same page. A terrific affair, but one with no future.”

  “You made that very clear from the beginning. So, now it’s over. Goodbye.”

  She slammed the door and locked it. Her heart hurt. Every part of her body ached. She threw on sweats and leashed Dumpling. When Whit left the hall, she tiptoed to the elevator and walked her pug through the bitter cold to the edge of the park. It was dark by the playground. She sank down on a bench and let out the emotion that could no longer be contained. She sobbed, causing Dumpling to bark.

  As soon as she could stop, she hurried back to the building, hiding her tear-stained face from Crash. The heat of his concerned expression penetrated her.

  “Did that asshole break your heart, Miss Bess?”

  She couldn’t look at him and didn’t answer. Dumpling stopped to be petted. Bess jerked on the leash. “Come on, girl.” When she raised her gaze, Crash met hers. The knowing look on his face sent shame through her. She picked up her dog and headed for the elevator.

  Once the pug had received her treat and was unleashed, Bess broke down again. She cried so hard she threw up, running into the bathroom. She hung over the toilet bowl, like a drunk, sobbing and puking. Dumpling curled up outside the door.

  After fifteen minutes, she stood up, washed, and went to bed. Her mind shut down, welcoming sleep. Bess was out cold until morning.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Even with Pick’s help, Whit had a ton to do. There were Visa’s to worry about, travel and living expenses to hash out with the publisher, and his broadcast to continue, especially the police corruption investigation.

  Even so, the next morning as he leased Homer for a walk before work, he thought of Bess. Their paths had not crossed yet that day, but Whit made a mental note to send flowers. Roses. A dozen. Red. Maybe pink.

  On the way out the door, Crash grabbed him by the lapels.

  “You broke her heart. You piece a shit. I’d like to mess up that pretty face of yours.”

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t give me that crap. You know damn well. You broke Miss Bess’s heart. Asshole.” Crash let go and opened the door to admit another resident.

  Whit straightened out his jacket and hurried out the door before the doorman could make good on his threat.

  Did I break her heart? She wasn’t in love with me. Oh, yeah, so maybe we each said that once, but in the heat between the sheets, hey, we say things. What did she think was going to happen at dinner?

  The next day, he found the keys to the stone house in an envelope, taped to his door. Shit! He tried calling, texting, emailing, but didn’t get a response from Bess. Finally, he wrote a note and taped it, and the keys, to her door.

  Bess,

  Please take these back. You told me you were going to furnish the house for me. I’m counting on it. I’m sorry if I hurt you. I didn’t mean to. I’ll miss you. But I’m not going forever. I hope when I get back we can share some weekends at the stone house. You’re special to me. I thought we had an understanding. I see I was wrong. I guess I was stupid. I hope you’ll forgive me.

  Whit

  P.S. Please use the house as your own.

  Not signing “love”. Don’t commit again. That’s what got me in trouble in the first place. I’m gonna drop that word from my vocabulary.

  That night, he found a note under his door.

  I’m not a welsher. I’ll furnish the house, as I promised. As for weekends there together, don’t count on it. A lot can happen between now and whenever you get back.

  Bess

  P.S. Though you didn’t ask, yes, I’ll keep Homer while you’re away.

  Whit let out a breath. She agreed to furnish the house. That means I can probably see her again. I hope so. I didn’t mean for us to be over. This relationship was like riding a roller coaster, and he wasn’t sure he was ready for the hills and steep drops.

  He sent Bess an email invitation to have dinner with him before he left, but she declined. His heart was heavy. Instead, he managed to squeeze in one last appointment with Dr. Sumner. He eased into the chair opposite the doctor, uncertain as to what he’d be talking about.

  “I have to ask. Did you find the answer to the question?” The doctor sat back.

  “Why I haven’t sold the house? No. No answer. But I’m furnishing it.”

  “Oh?”

  “My girlfriend, Bess…wait. She’s not my girlfriend anymore. She said she’d finish doing the house while I’m away.”


  “Why isn’t she your girlfriend?”

  “I don’t know. I took her to a fancy restaurant to tell her I was leaving. When I told her, she freaked out. Got up and left before even ordering.”

  “Why do you think she did that?”

  “I have no idea. And she wouldn’t tell me. And now, she’s not speaking to me.”

  “What did you tell her?’

  “That I was taking this job…”

  “No, I mean before. Before you got to the restaurant. Did you say anything special?”

  “Only that I had something to tell her.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “You said you had something to tell her, and you wanted to take her to a fancy restaurant to do it?”

  He nodded.

  “What do you think a woman might suspect? Would a guy take her to an expensive restaurant to break up with her? Unlikely. What might he want to say to her in a place like that?”

  The light bulb went on in Whit’s head. He buried his face in his hands. “Oh my God. I never thought…”

  The doctor sat quietly.

  “You think she was expecting me to propose?”

  “Would explain her reaction, wouldn’t it?”

  “Poor Bess. That’s…that’s terrible. Oh my God, I had no idea. I never thought she’d… I told her I don’t commit. She was fine with it.”

  “Do you think she’d be upset if she planned to turn you down?”

  “She’d be relieved, right? She got so pale. Her hands shook. I thought she was going to fall down. She wouldn’t wait for me. Wouldn’t let me take her home. Now, she won’t speak to me.”

  “Do you blame her?”

  “Oh, God. I went to her house. Banged on the door, demanded to know what happened. What an insensitive asshole.” He shook his head.

  “She’s in love with you.”

  “Why didn’t I see it?”

  “I don’t know, Whit. Why didn’t you?”

  Pain shot through him at the thought of the anguish he’d caused Bess. He’d never wanted to hurt her. Now, he had. Seriously. And he was leaving in a few days.