If the Ring Fits... Page 11

  “I suppose in a way you are responsible for my most recent run of creativity, given the direction you are proposing to take my career.”

  “A perfect segue,” he murmured. “Your career is why I am calling.”

  She tucked away the foolish pang of disappointment she felt that he wasn’t calling merely to chat. Every call he’d made to her these last weeks ultimately had a purpose beyond the flirting with which it started out. Had a package arrived? Was the gate working properly? Had the company he’d hired been out to restring the outdoor Christmas lights that had blown loose during a storm? But, then, she was acting as his house-sitter. Tony may have made it plain that he wanted to sleep with her, but wanting to have sex wasn’t the same as wanting a relationship. Besides, she wasn’t in the market for one of those herself.

  Business. She focused on that. “I’m all ears.”

  “I had dinner with a friend of mine who I believe might be able to help you.”

  As Tony went on about the particulars, Rachel felt her mouth drop open. His friend was Daphne Valero, the chic and lovely perfume heiress who had single-handedly helped the careers of a number of fashion designers simply by wearing their clothes. If Daphne was seen wearing it—shoes with a sequined vamp, an off-the-shoulder dress, a snakeskin clutch, a pair of owlish tortoise-shell sunglasses—they became the season’s new must-haves.

  “She has asked to meet you,” Rachel heard him say over the buzzing in her head.

  “She wants to meet me? What did you have to do to get her to say that?” She intended the question as a joke, but her imagination was busy filling in the blanks that, in truth, were none of her business to fill in.

  Tony added fuel to the fire when he replied softly, “If you are truly curious, carina, I could arrange a demonstration for you.”

  “That won’t be necessary.” Even to her own ears, her tone sounded prim.

  His answering laughter came as no surprise.

  “So, when and where will this meeting take place?” she asked.

  “If I said this weekend in New York, would that be a problem?”

  “That’s two days away.”

  “Have you other commitments?”

  “The shop—”

  “Jenny can handle it. She seems a competent enough young woman to me.” Except when Tony was around, Rachel mused, at which point Jenny turned into an unproductive puddle of estrogen. “You have left her in charge before, no?”

  “I have, but I already told her I would close on Saturday.”

  “No date this weekend, carina?”

  Since he sounded so amused, she shot back with, “As a matter of fact, I do have plans.”

  Heidi was after her to have dinner with their father. On her own, Rachel had managed to dodge every invitation Griff extended. Heidi was harder to ignore and impossible to tell no, meaning Rachel had caved in. The only concession she’d managed to wring from her sister was that they meet for a late dinner at a popular restaurant rather than Heidi’s apartment. Rachel wanted to keep the visit as brief as possible and that was more likely to occur at a busy eatery.

  “With?” From Tony’s smug tone it was clear that he didn’t believe her.

  “As it happens, a man.” Which wasn’t a lie. Her father might be a weasel, but he was a man.

  “Ah. I did not realize.” The words sounded curt.

  Rachel couldn’t quite put a finger on Tony’s mood. Was he angry? Hurt? He had no reason to be. Just as she had no reason to wonder about what had occurred between him and Daphne Valero.

  “That’s because you didn’t ask. You assumed.” Feeling that she’d made her point, Rachel admitted, “The man in question is my father. Heidi wants the three of us to have dinner together, an early Christmas celebration.”

  “And you are okay with that?” he surprised her by asking.

  “I’m doing it for Heidi.”

  “Take my advice, carina, and do it for yourself,” was his sincere reply. “Bad blood between family, it is no good.”

  She cleared her throat, but before she could change the subject, he went on. “I had a disagreement with my father the day he died. He felt I was not applying myself to my studies. He reminded me that despite his wealth, I would have to make my own fortune one day if I wanted to continue to live the way I was.”

  So that was where Tony’s drive came from. She doubted he was conscious of it.

  He was saying, “Words were said that I could not take back later.”

  “Oh, Tony, you were only a boy.”

  “Yes, and I know he forgave me. But I would much rather have sought that forgiveness from him before he was gone.”

  “My father doesn’t want my forgiveness.”

  “How can you be so sure? He has been around a lot lately. You have told me so yourself.”

  Could Tony be right? Years of hurt feelings made it hard to believe Griff had changed. She knew what was more likely: “He wants to assuage his conscience. That’s not the same thing as seeking true forgiveness.” She changed the subject. “Getting back to Daphne Valero, does the meeting have to be this weekend? I hate to sound ungrateful, but I need to budget for such an expense.”

  Rachel didn’t have the money on hand to book a flight to New York and stay in a hotel, especially on such short notice.

  “Actually, it is next weekend. I was just curious what you were doing this weekend.” He laughed softly. “As for budgeting, there is no need. In fact, I have already made all of the necessary arrangements.”

  In the next breath he was rattling off her flight itinerary. “A driver will be waiting for you at the airport to take you to your hotel. I will pick you up for cocktails at Delacorte’s at six-thirty. Daphne will join us for dinner.”

  “You did all of this without consulting me?” She cleared her throat. Regardless of his motives, she needed to make something clear. “Listen, Tony, I truly appreciate everything you are doing on my behalf. You have been exceedingly generous and kind, but—”

  “I should have included you in the decision-making process.”

  Rachel held her breath. She expected some argument. Tony was a man used to calling the shots and not having them questioned. So his ready agreement and quick apology came as a surprise.

  “You are right. I am sorry. I should have asked before making the arrangements. You are not the sort of woman who likes being told what to do.”

  “I’m not. No.” Tony had always made her aware of her femininity. Now, with that one statement, he had made her aware of her power. How interesting that it was not with pretty words and compliments that he managed to infiltrate her heart, but by expressing his understanding that she was his equal. “Thank you.”

  “In my excitement, I got ahead of myself.”

  “So, you’re excited about this?”

  “I am. Yes. It is a good opportunity for you. Will the following weekend work or shall I reschedule your flight? I should mention that Daphne will only be in New York for a limited time. As will I. I am hoping to make the most of that time.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I know a buyer for an upscale department-store chain. In our last conversation I mentioned to her that I knew a fabulous up-and-coming jewelry designer who was looking to expand her clientele and was willing to let the chain’s flagship New York store host her spring collection’s debut.”

  Rachel’s breath caught in her throat. What he described sounded like something straight out of her dreams. Unfortunately, reality intruded. “I don’t have a spring collection.”

  “But you will,” he replied confidently. “I’m going to arrange an introduction to her, as well. What do you think?”

  “I think I need to sit down.”

  His laughter followed. “So, you will come?”

  “How can I possibly say no?”

  “And the arrangements that I have made, they are amenable to you, then? Flight times can be changed if need be.”

  Her heart warmed at his deferential tone. He wa
sn’t merely humoring her. “They work. But, Tony, I will pay you back.”

  “I consider it an investment, but as you wish.”

  Her dreams were coming true and he was largely responsible for that—not only because of his connections and money, but because he believed in her. He made her believe in herself.

  “Tony, I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say that you have more than a couple of fabulous pieces on hand that you can show Daphne when you come.”

  Rachel laughed. “I do. Well, sort of. I’ll have to ask to borrow them back from the people I’ve given them to as gifts over the years.” That included her mother, sister and some of her friends.

  Rachel pulled her feet out from beneath her on the couch. She felt the need to have them planted firmly on the floor while her imagination took flight.

  She made a mental inventory, excitement building as she catalogued each ring, necklace, bracelet and set of earrings. Some of her early pieces were too amateurish to include, but there was enough there for an adequate representation of her ability, especially if she was able to finish the piece she was working on now.

  “Are you still there?” An amused voice asked.

  “Sorry. Just thinking.”

  “I have given you much to consider. Go back to bed.”

  “As if I could sleep now,” she replied on a laugh.

  Tony wasn’t laughing, nor did she get the feeling he was talking about the upcoming meeting when he said, “I know what you mean.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  RACHEL had much to do and little time in which to do it. She resigned herself to the fact that the apartment renovations were behind schedule and would remain so until after the holidays. For now, she had other matters to worry about, and chief among them were the upcoming meetings with Daphne and Shay Stevens, the Zindal’s department-store buyer Tony had mentioned in his call. Rachel would be having Sunday brunch with her before returning to Michigan.

  In addition to borrowing the pieces she needed and putting together a portfolio using the photographs she’d taken over the years of the jewelry she’d designed, Rachel decided a couple of new outfits were in order. Heidi came shopping with her, which was both good and bad.

  Good, because her sister was more likely to talk her into something than out of it, and bad for that very same reason.

  By the time Rachel left the collection of stores at Somerset, she could barely fit all of her purchases in the trunk of her car. She had more than a couple of outfits and the accessories to go with them. She had lingerie. She never should have allowed Heidi to draw her in to Victoria’s Secret.

  “Black is sexy,” Heidi remarked as she took a lace-edged demicup bra from a rack.

  “I don’t think I’m Daphne Valero’s type,” Rachel had quipped. “Nor that of Shay Stevens.”

  “It goes to confidence.”

  “And that bra is going to make me feel confident?” She said it as a question and pretended to be doubtful, even though she knew the sexy scrap of support would indeed make her feel confident in ways unrelated to work.

  She’d gone along, buying the bra’s twin in white, and matching panties for both, because, well, it seemed like sacrilege to pair such nice bras with unbecoming cotton. As for the nightgown she purchased, she couldn’t blame Heidi for talking her into that and her sister’s wide, knowing smile said as much.

  Rachel knew she still didn’t look the part of an up-and-coming jewelry designer with her mousy, unstyled locks and ragged cuticles, so even though time was at a premium as the days ticked down to her trip, she fit in a visit to the salon to see both her stylist and the nail technician. Three hours later, she walked out the door of Tresses sporting streaky blond highlights and a stylish cut, not to mention a French manicure on both her fingernails and her toenails.

  Several days later, wearing wide-legged gabardine trousers and a fitted white blouse, under which one of the new bras was making the most of her assets, she waited for Heidi to take her to the airport. The car that arrived at Tony’s home, however, belonged to her father. She was tempted not to open the gate for him. She did, but she was waiting along with her luggage under the portico when his car reached the house.

  “This is some place, kitten.” Griff issued a low whistle as he glanced around.

  “I’m house-sitting,” came her clipped reply.

  “So you said the other night at dinner. You didn’t mention you were staying at a mansion. I was picturing a nice little bungalow like the kind your mom and I lived in when you were a kid.”

  Back before he broke up their family with his infidelity.

  “What are you doing here, Dad?”

  “Taking you to the airport. Heidi called in a panic. She couldn’t make it. Something came up last minute and she asked me to pinch-hit for her.” He offered his best salesman’s smile. “I’m only too happy to help out my girls.”

  Except for when it wasn’t convenient for him, Rachel thought. She didn’t want Griff there. She was nervous enough already. She’d been looking forward to her sister’s cheery chatter and unflagging support to send her on her way. She didn’t want to spend the next forty minutes in a car with Griff, tiptoeing around the scores of landmines that dotted their personal histories.

  Dinner the previous Saturday had been enough of a trial. Griff, of course, had insisted on paying for her meal even after she’d made it plain that she didn’t want him to do so. She’d ordered chicken Florentine, since it was one of the most affordable items on the menu, and a glass of iced tea. Griff wasn’t satisfied with that. Oh, no.

  “We’re celebrating, kitten.”

  He’d asked the waitress to bring lobster tails for all three of them and then ordered a bottle of Medallion Winery’s award-winning chardonnay.

  “I don’t drink, Dad.”

  Heidi had even backed her up on that. “Yeah, Rach’s face gets all red and blotchy whenever she does.”

  “A sip won’t hurt. It’s been so long since the three of us have sat down together for a meal.”

  When the wine came, he poured her a glass. It went untouched, as did her lobster tail. She’d left the restaurant irritated and, to her dismay, sad. Her father didn’t know her at all. What’s more, he didn’t appear interested in the adult she’d become.

  His insistence on calling her kitten was a prime example. She’d hated that nickname as a kid. At thirty-two, she absolutely loathed it. But he used it again now as he opened the tiny trunk of his sports coupe and lifted her bags into it.

  “I like what you’ve done with your hair, kitten.”

  “I just had it trimmed. And highlighted,” she mumbled.

  “Well, you look pretty.” He gave the ends an affectionate tug, making her feel twelve, except that when she was twelve her Dad hadn’t been around.

  “Thanks.”

  “Heidi tells me the guy who owns this grand home is interested in you.”

  “Tony is just a friend.”

  “Does he feel that way, too, that he is just a friend?” Griff’s brows rose.

  Rachel was unable to hold her father’s gaze. Tony had made it plain that he wanted much more from her than mere friendship or a business relationship. Meanwhile, she hadn’t made up her mind how far she intended to let anything personal between them go, the fact that she was wearing sexy, lace-trimmed undergarments aside. It was complicated, especially since he was helping her launch her design business on a much grander scale. He might claim one had nothing to do with the other, but having just gone through a divorce, she knew only too well that people sometimes made promises they did not keep. She hadn’t confided her concerns in her sister. She certainly wasn’t going to confide them in her here-today, gone-tomorrow father.

  “Look, Dad, I appreciate your concern—”

  “No, you don’t,” Griff interrupted. Despite his smile, his expression was surprisingly sad. “You tolerate it, but you don’t appreciate it. I’m worried about you, okay? Some guys, well, they expect to be repaid f
or their kindness, if you know what I mean.”

  Rachel didn’t want to be touched by her father’s concern. She didn’t want her father’s concern, period.

  “I’m thirty-two years old, Dad. I think I can take care of myself.” She slammed the trunk closed. The sound echoed across the frozen yard.

  “You probably can. God knows, I wasn’t around enough to look out for you when you were a teenager,” he replied on a sigh as he shoved a hand back through his hair. When had it become so gray? He was saying, “Or when you got engaged to Mal.”

  “What’s Mal got to do with anything?” she ground out.

  “He wasn’t good enough for you.”

  “You’re right,” she agreed with a quick dip of her chin. “Mal wasn’t good enough for me. But how would you know, Dad? As you said, you weren’t around.”

  Oh, the next time she saw Heidi, Rachel was going to kill her. Something came up. Right. What came up was her sister’s meddling.

  Griff surprised Rachel by saying, “Mal is the kind of man who insists on coloring inside the lines and expects others to do the same. That’s the kind of man your mother needed. But not you.” He reached out and chucked her under her chin. “You need someone who paints in big, bold strokes and isn’t afraid to go off the paper every now and again—never mind about staying inside the damned lines.”

  She had to agree, but…

  “Dad—”

  Griff wasn’t finished. “I’ve messed up a lot, and I’ve missed out on a lot as a result. I’m sorry for that.”

  “Dad, please.” Rachel shook her head. She didn’t want to get into this now, even as Tony’s words about her father’s motives were ringing in her head. She didn’t have the emotional fortitude or the time. “I need to get to the airport.”

  She walked around to the passenger side of the car and got in, hoping that would be the end of it. Griff, however, wasn’t going to be put off. As soon as he was seated behind the leather-wrapped steering wheel, he said, “Heidi has always been the easier of the two of you to win over.”

  Buy off, he meant.

  “That’s because Heidi was a toddler when you walked out and she doesn’t remember Mom crying all the time and making excuses for you when you failed to show up for holidays and birthdays and every school function.”