Hold it! Raff barked.
Of course she would hold it. Hadnt she already promised herself to hold it forever and ever and ever?
Cut! she heard above the pleasant buzzing in her ears, and Cabot dropped her as if she were a hot saucepan.
Im sorry, he muttered into her ear. I dont know what happened there.
No, it was my fault, Faith murmured back. I I what? I was trying to seem taller by, ah, reaching up like that. Murmuring was a good idea anyway, since she was having trouble talking.
No, I overstepped
No, I overacted
No, I
Help her into the car next, Raff said. Great job, you two. But next time, Missah
Her name, Cabot said through his teeth, is Faith. Surely you can master one name. This is my final warning, all three of you. Her name is Faith. She is not she or her or Miss Whatever. Faith. Got it?
And while he issued his ultimatum, Faith thought, Next time? Omigosh, can I survive a next time?
5
DAZED FROM KISSING FAITH, which had been the surprise of his life and had shaken him to his jaded core, Cabot wasnt sure what to do next. One thing he did observe was that they got plenty of attention on the way to LAX in the garish limo. Tourists lifted their cameras and snapped pictures when they pulled up to the terminal, and theyd do the same thing in July, not even knowing that Tippy Temple was about to step out of the car. When you were in his line of business, attention was a good thing.
Once hed gotten his little party settled in first-class, with Faith beside him in the window seat and the video crew scattered out in front of him where he could keep an eye on them, it seemed time for small talk. Any kind of talk would do except talk about that kiss and its impact, and since the kiss was all he could think about, he didnt have a clue how to begin. Nice suit wouldnt work, because she hadnt had anything to do with choosing it.
Joey and Tippy had chosen it, had chosen the entire trousseau. Tippy loved shopping with Joey. Cabot wished hed thought to ask Joey if hed like to marry Tippy, since it was only for show.
Modern Day Pygmalion Story: Stylist Marries His Creation. Cabot could see the headline in his minds eye, and wished he could see it on the cover of Variety. And People. And Vanity Fair. If Tippy were marrying Joey, he, Cabot, could spend this weekend profitably, which in his addled state meant kissing Faith numerous additional times. And doing more than kissing, if she wanted to.
He wondered if Faiths mental processes felt like his did right this minuteelectrical impulses leaping from right brain to left, from front to back and skittering off on the diagonal. If so, he felt sorry for her.
and Im finally figuring out what my sister Charity has been going through as a model, Faith was saying, except that her shoes never fit. Maybe thats why shes so determined to be a scientist instead. Comfortable shoes.
Since shed come to his rescue, effortlessly supplying the small talk he couldnt seem to dredge up, Cabot thought hed better help. Let me guess, he said. You have another sister and her name is Hope.
Yes. How about you?
He gave her a sidelong glance to find that she wasnt even smiling, when that lovely, surprisingly wide mouth seemed to smile so easily. She seemed nervous. Fear of flying? I dont think so. Fear of me is more like it.
One sister, which I thought was one too many when I was a kid. Shes married, now, with two kids. Shes an artist, hes a stockbroker. I dont know what they talk about.
I told you about Charity, Faith rattled on after her brief interest in Cabots family. Hopes a big businesswoman in New York. Were all so different. Hope and Charity got all the brains, though.
She sounded so glum that Cabot found himself wanting to make her feel better. Being brainy doesnt necessarily make you successful, he suggested, and being successful doesnt mean youre brainy. It sounded good, but he wasnt sure hed said anything meaningful. Youre a good travel agent, and thats not easy.
She suddenly whipped an earnest gaze around to him and he felt himself melting under it, or at least some of him was melting and some of him was impersonating a stalagmite.
Do you really think I could be a good travel agent? she asked him.
He shifted uneasily in the upholstered seat that would magically become his life jacket if he needed one.
Because its practically my last chance to succeed, she said mournfully. Her mouth tilted down at the corners. Cabot wanted to settle his fingers right there and tilt it back up. Im thirty years old and my résumé reads like a terrorists dossier.
Now I cant believe you ever
I havent caused any actual explosionswell, a fire or twobut disaster strikes on every job Ive ever held. First there was the Marrakesh caper.
That sounds
Yes. Very exciting, doesnt it? And I thought it would be. A very famous authoryoud recognize his name if I dared to say it aloud even nowhired me right out of college to be his research assistant. He was writing a thriller set in Marrakesh.
Cabot settled in. It seemed he was going to hear the story of her life, which was better than discussing the fact that he hadnt acted very professional when he kissed her. He sent you to Marrakesh?
He sent me to the library. He wasnt about to let go of enough money to send me to Marrakesh. Unlike you. Youve spent a fortune already researching your own wedding! And I think thats wonderful. Tippy deserves that kind of thoughtfulness.
She was gazing earnestly at him again, but there at the end he thought her gaze slid off to the right a little. Its tax deductible, he said without thinking, because what he was thinking about was Faiths full pink mouth. Forget the mouth! Im charging the dry run to my firm, he added, improvising rapidly, because I can apply the kind of information well be gathering to my other clients.
Would have been for him, too, Faith said. Tax deductible, I mean. Anyway, I was slaving away in the M stacks and files, and then she paused, and a dreamy look came over her face one day when I was doing an online search for Moroccan Meteorological Trends, I noticed a book called Explore Madagascar, and then another one, The Romance of Mozambique, and Dont Miss Macao. So of course I had to find out what those places were like.
You forgot about Marrakesh. How could she forget about Marrakesh when she could remember the names of three books shed read maybe eight years ago that werent even about Marrakesh, the topic she was supposed to research. The flight attendant hovered over them, and although Cabot didnt drink martinis, the word just fell out of his mouth, probably because it was alliterative.
Oh, Faith was saying to the woman, Id love some white wine, but Id better not. Ill have
What about a Mai Tai? Cabot said. Or a Manhattan.
I was about to say tomato juice, Faith said, giving him an odd look. Im barely competent stone-cold sober. And this may be vacation time for you, but Im working.
While the attendant got the drinks, it occurred to Cabot that Faith was spilling out the story of her work history to make a point, and that the point might come as unpleasant news for him and his current enterprise.
While the attendant got the drinks, it occurred to Cabot that Faith was spilling out the story of her work history to make a point, and that the point might come as unpleasant news for him and his current enterprise.
So how did the job end? he asked as soon as hed taken a restorative gulp of vodka.
Her mouth turned down again. I woke up one morning and realized he was expecting me to hand him his Marrakesh background the very next day and I had almost nothing for him but basic geography and a printout of a Web site for tourists. So I checked out every old movie that had been set in Marrakesh and filled in the details from those.
Uh-oh, Cabot said, most of those were probably made on an MGM lot.
But still, she argued, I figured that somebody at MGM would have done better research than I had. Unfortunately, theyd done that research in 1938 or 39 or 40. She sighed deeply. He had to set the book in 1941 and make it a World War II espionage story.
And it bombed. He was getting bombed, too.
No, the publisher promoted it as his first historical novel and it stayed on the bestseller list for sixty-three weeks.
But hed already fired you.
And Id already taken a job as interpreter for an aide to the ambassador to Argentina. Want to hear about that?
Well, I
That was going wellIm quite fluent in Spanish, she murmured modestly, until one day I got distracted during one of his conversations with a lobby groupsomething about beef. I hadnt listened to what he was saying, so when it came time to translate I had to make something up. She halted, then turned to him, looking quizzical. Do you remember that little civil uprising in Argentina about seven years ago? When the beef producers marched on Buenos Aires?
The last drops of vodka dribbled down the front of his shirt, but Cabot didnt care. You did that? he said. He felt as if he were strangling.
It was suddenly crystal clear what the point of Faiths story was. Every job she took ended in disaster. And what she was now was a travel agent, his travel agent, Tippys double.
And she was warning him that she was all too likely to blow it.
The question was how? He could think of many, many ways. That was a big part of his job as a publicist, thinking of all the ways something could backfire. So he would spend the next four days creeping warily through a dark forest, waiting for the ogre to pop out and eat him alive.
And little did she know, this beautiful, delicate woman who sat beside him in an obvious state of performance anxiety, that inside him was an ogre threatening to pop out at any moment and nibble her into a passionate frenzy.
HED BEEN WRONG. He wasnt going to spend the next four days creeping through a dark forest. The ogre manifested itself right there at the reception desk of the Inn of Dreams in downtown Reno. What do you mean you dont have three additional rooms reserved?
Um, Cabot Faith murmured.
I mean, we have two rooms for your crew and a honeymoon suite for you, Mr. Drennan, and youre pretty darned lucky we had that cancellation, because this is the weekend before Valentines Day.
Cabot gazed at the man for a long moment. Excuse us for a second, he said, and pulled Faith over to the side. She was wearing a stricken expression.
I forgot to book a room for myself, she whispered.
You forgot to book a room for me, he corrected her. And the hotel staff thinks were really on our honeymoon, right?
Well, of course, Faith said. If they thought we were just advancing the honeymoon, they wouldnt treat us the same way theyll treat you and Tippy in July.
That, at least, made sense. You didnt register in Tippys name.
Her eyes were very wide and very gray. Of course not. Were registered as Mr. and Mrs. Cabot Drennan.
Something lurched inside Cabots stomach, but he stoically ignored it. Well, lets see what we can do about this, he said gruffly, and herded her back to the desk. We really have to have three extra rooms, he told the clerk. As you can see, and he gestured back toward Raff, Joey and Chelsea, who milled about restlessly, sensing a problem, I have three crew members of various, um, sexes and persuasions. This was merely an excuse. Raff and Joey were rooming together. That third room was for him, and every second he spent with Faith made the need for a room of his own more crucial.
The clerk merely shrugged.
He knew a stone wall when he saw one. Excuse us again, Cabot said, and withdrew his people into a huddle in the artificial shade of an artificial potted palm.
Okay, he said to his entourage, it looks like we have to get along with two extra rooms. Ill share a room with Raff and Joey can bunk in with Chelsea.
No! Joey shrieked as he stamped his foot.
Why not? Cabot said, aware that Faiths lovely gray eyes were following the conversation anxiously.
You promised me Raff, Joey said, and fell into a pout.
Hey, hold on a minute, Raff said, scowling. If Chelsea has to share with somebody, it has to be you.
Thats right, Joey, Cabot said. I cant share with Chelsea.
Unless you want Carlos to break your neck, Chelsea said in a soft, gentle voice with an accent that spoke of a Southern upbringing. Hes real rigid about things like that.
Ah, Cabot said. Hed met Carlos, a wrestler, whose adoration of Chelsea was the only indication that he possessed a brain, and the only indication that inside the quiet Chelsea was a tiger about to escape from the zoo. He sent a meaningful glance around the group, then settled it on Faith.
Well have to manage somehow, I guess, he said. It is a suite, after all. Itll have a living room. With a sofa. Ill sleep on the sofa.
No, Ill sleep on the sofa. This is all my fault and Ill accept the consequences.
Dont argue. Tradition decrees that the biggest person sleeps in the smallest space.
She could see the exasperation in the lines around his mouth. Well break with tradition. I will definitely
He whirled and went back to the desk clerk. They all followed him like baby ducks. You must have an extra single room somewhere, he said.
The desk clerk wore the look of an about-to-be-discovered movie star. In Carson City, maybe, he drawled.
Cabot gave up. Okay. Fine. Show us to our rooms.
The look he gave Faith started out as a withering one. He wasnt sure how it turned out.
SO WELL SEE YOU GUYS LATER, Cabot told the crew.
Nope, youll see us now, Raff informed him. We have to work on the carry over the threshold scene.
Faith supposed you couldnt expect a professional video-making crew to put romance into what was, for them, a livelihood. For her, too, she reminded herself swiftly. Shed better be thinking of it as the carry over the threshold scene, too.
Cabots mouth was set in a grim line. She was sure hed rather drop her over a cliff right this minute than carry her over a threshold.
Okay, then, follow us up. He went from annoyance to resignation in a split second.
They were pretty noticeable, Faith thought, the five of them trotting along behind a bellhop dressed the way bellhops dressed in the old movies, when they delivered luggage to gorgeous women in blue satin dressing gowns.