Next To Nothing! - Barbara Dunlop 3 стр.


Youre interested in the services of a decorating firm? she asked politely. Judging by the cut of his suit, Derek could be a great prospective customer.

Uhyeah. He nodded. Thats right. I am.

Well probably be more comfortable in the boardroom. Jenna gestured to an open doorway behind the receptionists desk. While the mans attention switched to the boardroom door, she signaled to the coffeepot.

Rosemary gave her a quick nod of understanding.

Derek Reeves glanced at Candice, then back at Jenna. He cleared his throat. Sounds fine.

I have a conference call in about two minutes, Candice quickly inserted, obviously picking up the same strange signals as Jenna. Do you mind, Jenna?

Of course not. Jenna reminded herself that Derek was the customer, and Candice was acting like a professional. Still, she couldnt help feeling a little annoyed on Candices behalf. Ill bring you up to speed later.

Great. Thanks. Candice turned a stiff smile on Derek. Nice to meet you Mr. Reeves.

Likewise, he replied formally, again with barely a glance.

Ignoring the obvious undercurrent, Jenna led Derek Reeves into the small boardroom.

Why dont you tell me a little bit about your project, she suggested as they sat down at the polished, round table. The deep patina absorbed the late day sun. Candice had insisted their offices exude success, even before they had their first client. Jenna found herself glad of that right now.

Sure. Derek paused, glancing around at the sample pictures on the wall of the room. Good ideaIts alobby. He stopped scanning the walls and sat back. A lobby.

Oh. Jenna waited a moment for him to elaborate. Would that be in an office building?

His forehead furrowed and he glanced around the room again. Yes. I mean, no. Its ahotel. He slowly smiled and nodded as if hed just had a mental revelation. A hotel lobby.

Jenna experienced a twinge of disappointment. So far, they didnt have any experience decorating hotels. Theyd started with private homes and branched out to some office buildings. The hospital lobby was their big break into special purpose space, but she didnt think whale fountains and monkey carpets would impress many hotel owners.

Her uncertainty must have shown, because Derek jumped back in.

Did I say lobby? he asked.

Yes

Well, actually, its more than just the lobby. He nodded. Its the restaurant, too.

The restaurant? Her heart sank. They had absolutely nothing in the way of experience that would qualify them to decorate a restaurant.

And, Derek continued, well, the spa, too. In fact, you know, the whole hotel should really be upgraded.

The whole hotel? Jennas eyes widened.

Right.

Uh, Mr. Reeves

Call me Derek.

Sure. Derek. Jenna debated the merits of blunt honesty versus the incredible opportunity of decorating an entire hotel. She wanted the job. She wanted the job very, very much. But there was the touchy matter of experience.

It sounds like she tried. I mean, of course wed be delighted to submit A little voice inside her told her to shut up and say yes. Uh, is the hotel here in Seattle?

Yes. On the lake. The Quayside.

The Quayside? Jennas heart stopped for a split second. She felt the blood drain from her face.

Youve heard of it?

Yes. Of course. Who hadnt heard of the Quayside? Jenna dropped her hands into her lap and pinched herself.

The Quayside was a gorgeous, venerated historic hotel on a scenic point of land right on the shore of Lake Washington. It was an architectural dream, water on three sides, and a stunning view of the Cascade Mountain range.

It had played host to business magnates, movie stars and royalty. This was a job which could catapult their firm to the stratosphere.

Jenna swallowed. Do not mess this up. We could draft some preliminary sketches

Tell you what. Derek rose from the table, and Jenna followed suit. Ill give you my card. He reached into his suit jacket pocket. Then he flipped the card over and pulled out a pen.

Im writing the name and phone number of the hotel manager on the back. Give me a fewUh, I mean, give him a call. But wait until late tomorrow afternoon. Hell give you the details.

Jenna nodded silently. Her brain was running a million miles an hour. Candice was going to die. She was going to fall off her chair and die right there in the office.

Derek straightened up and handed Jenna the card.

Thank you, Mr. Derek.

He smiled, and his eyes lit up like Santa Claus. Thank you, Jenna.

TYLER SNAPPED a couple of pictures from the Quayside Hotel parking lot as Jenna and her partner Candice emerged from the front entry. Derek had called last night to describe Jenna, and to tell Tyler she currently had a contract at the hospital. From there, Tyler had followed the pair to the hotel.

Jenna seemed to be having the time of her life with her fiancé out of the picture. The two women walked down the sidewalk, talking animatedly, laughing, and gesturing in the air like a couple of college students as they headed for Candices sedan.

Tyler raised his newspaper so that it shielded his face as they passed his SUV. Whatever had happened in the hotel, they were certainly excited about it. He wondered for a moment if theyd met their boyfriends. It was a definite possibility.

As their vehicle backed out of the space, he turned his attention to the stone building, training the camera in preparation for the emergence of their dates. He could catch up with the women at either the hospital or the Canna Interiors office later.

A family emerged from the hotel, then a lone businessman, thennobody. Five minutes went by, then ten, then fifteen. Finally, the door opened again. But it was an elderly couple who stopped to talk to the doorman.

Okay, so Jenna and Candice werent meeting men for a clandestine lunchtime date. At least not men who were leaving the hotel a discreet few minutes after them.

He supposed they could have met men who were guests at the hotel, who didnt need to come out to the parking lot after lunch. But that was stretching his initial theory a little too far.

He placed the camera on the seat beside him and reached for the ignition key. He could go inside and talk to Henry Wenchel, the hotel manager. Henry was an old friend of the family and, technically at least, Tyler was still a company shareholder. But the odds of Henry having noticed two women having lunch in one of the restaurants were ridiculously small.

Except that they were unusually attractive. Candice was tall and willowy, with a fresh, wind-blown supermodel look that would turn any head. Jenna was shorter, a bit more understated. But her thick, auburn hair was gorgeous, and there was something about her smile and the glint in her sea-foam eyes that made Tyler think it was a shame she was being wasted on Brandon Rice.

None of his business, he reminded himself. Rich men and gorgeous women had been making marriage deals since time immemorial. His job was to see if she was making side deals with anyone else.

He pulled out of the parking lot. Sea-foam eyes and his personal opinion notwithstanding, hed stay focused. Hed get some photos, write the report and collect his fee. The sooner he was out of the adultery business the better.

NEXT MORNING, Tyler found himself pulling right back into the Quayside parking lot. This time, Jenna was alone when she strode purposefully into the main foyer.

Looked like his first instinct had been right. Who went to the Quayside two days in a row? Who went there alone at this time of the morning, unless they were meeting somebody inside?

Tyler loved it when his instincts were firing on all cylinders. He pulled his baseball cap down low, donned dark sunglasses, grabbed his camera and followed her.

He pushed through the revolving glass door, glancing around the antique lobby until he spotted her near the concierge desk.

Perhaps somebody had left her a key with the concierge. Perhaps a young, virile somebody who would make her forget her fiancé for a couple of hours.

The concierge didnt hand her a key, but Jenna did pick up the house phone. Maybe luck was with him. Maybe young and virile would meet her right here in the lobby. Right here in camera range.

Though the light was bad, Tyler took a quick shot of Jenna talking on the phone.

Then he sidled over to a furniture grouping and eased down into a soft armchair. He wished he had another newspaper to hide behind, but he had to settle for the obscuring foliage of a large potted plant. He felt like a tacky Sam Spade, hovering, waiting, watching.

Jenna hung up the phone and moved away from the concierge desk, turning to face in his general direction. Her beauty rocked him back. For a minute, he almost wished he had a bank balance that would put him in the running to date her.

Angling his head, confident she couldnt tell the direction of his gaze through the tinted glasses, he looked his fill. Her thick, auburn hair bounced around her shoulders, setting off a creamy smooth complexion. Her lips were full, her cheekbones high and her skirted business suit showed off a figure that nipped and tucked in all the right places. He could sit here and watch her all day long.

He sighed. Too bad she was so willing to trade in those stunning looks for Brandons money.

Something on the far side of the lobby caught her attention, and her amazing eyes lit up with recognition. Tyler gripped the camera as she smiled a greeting and started to walk toward an unseen person.

His gaze strayed to her silky legs. Hed always had a soft spot for shapely calves, especially those that rose so gracefully from strappy, feminine sandals. He felt a sudden burn in his chest at the thought of watching her greet a strange man with a squeeze and a kiss.

It got worse when he imagined those shapely calves doingwell, doing what shapely calves do when they dont have their stockings on. He ruthlessly tamped down the unruly image, sitting forward to peek around the edge of the plant.

Henry?

Gorgeous Jenna was here to cheat on rich Brandon with Henry Wenchel? The scenario didnt bear thinking about.

This was way more information than Tyler wanted concerning his fathers friend. And he couldnt help thinking that Henrys wife was not going to be happy.

Trying not to cringe, he quickly snapped a shot.

Henry reached out to briefly shake Jennas hand. They spoke for a minute, keeping a respectful two feet apart. Henry talked and Jenna nodded. She smiled, but it wasnt an intimate smile, and neither of them made a beeline for the penthouse elevator.

Tyler tried not to feel too relieved. When he thought about it, if Henry was going to carry on an affair with a younger woman, hed be pretty stupid to do it in his own hotel lobby in front of the security cameras.

A moment later, Jenna and Henry headed up the mezzanine stairs. Towards Henrys office. Henrys very public office. Tyler sighed, relieved that Jenna had legitimate business at the hotel. Even though it meant his instincts were malfunctioning again.

IN HENRY WENCHELS OFFICE, Jenna sat very still and concentrated on not hyperventilating. He was taking out a pen. He was flipping to the back of the contract. He was touching the pen to the signature line. The pen was moving. He was signing.

Her heart rate increased, and she could feel her extremities start to tingle.

He was done.

Hed signed.

Henry Wenchel had just signed a contract to pay Canna Interiors an exorbitant sum for the preliminary designs. Preliminary designs which could lead to the interior decorating contract of a lifetime.

Understanding the ambiance is so important, dont you think, Jenna? He passed the contract across the table toward her and held out his gold pen.

Yes. She nodded, taking a shaky breath. Her fingers were still tingling as she reached for his pen. She half expected to wake up any second.

I hope a week away from home wont be too inconvenient for you.

Jenna slid the contract until it was directly below her, only half listening to Henry Wenchel. A week? she asked automatically.

There it was. A swoopy H, a pointy W, then a squiggle and a swirl and a dot. She suddenly wished she had a signature that looked more artistic than her plain old name. A signature that nobody could really read, because she was important enough that theyd all learned her squiggles.

Well assign you a suite, said Henry.

She touched the pen to the paper above the line that read proponent. Suite? Jenna asked as she wrote her first name.

Youll stay here, of course, while you work.

The pen faltered on the M. Drat! The biggest signature of her life, and she couldnt even get the M right. She sure hoped that didnt void the contract.

She carefully finished McBride, then looked up at Henry. Stay here? she asked, blinking.

The only way to get the true ambiance, Henry smiled. Thats not a problem is it?

No, Jenna hurriedly shook her head. Shed stay in Timbuktu if it made Henry happy.

Perfect, said Henry. He pressed a button on the telephone console.

Jenna tried valiantly to look like she made deals of this magnitude every day of the week. If Henry could tell she was faking, he was certainly being polite about it.

Ill put you in one of our executive suites, he continued. They have a phone, fax, personal computer, printer, Internet access. If theres anything else you need, be sure to let Anna know.

Jenna nodded. She couldnt think of a single thing she could possibly need in life besides a plum contract and an executive suite at the Quayside.

Henry gestured toward the door. Great. Lets go see a registration clerk.

Feeling like she was drifting through a dream, Jenna followed Henry back down the wide, curved staircase toward the reception desk. While they walked, she gazed at the marble pillars, the dome ceiling, the leaded windows. The carpets, wall coverings and furniture were aging, but the building itself was extraordinary.

Hello, Tyler. Henrys hearty voice pulled her attention away from their surroundings.

A man standing at the reception desk turned abruptly, drawing back as if he was startled by the sight of them.

What a coincidence. Henry clapped the man on the shoulder. Tyler, Id like you to meet Jenna McBride, our new decorator. Jenna this is Tyler

Carter, the man inserted, holding out his hand.

Henrys eyebrows briefly knit together.

Im a security guard here at the hotel. Tyler Carter grasped Jennas hand.

His hand was warm, his grip strong and his skin leathery enough to indicate he enjoyed some kind of outdoor sport. His dark glasses were perched on a straight nose, above a strong, square chin. The smile he flashed was friendly enough, but Jenna sensed some kind of tension behind it.

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