“Uh, no. I’m fine, thanks.” She could hear the amusement in his voice.
“I’ll talk to you later. Call me on my cell if you need me.”
“Will do.”
Still smiling, Torie parked and enjoyed the fun of beeping the locks on the car. Briefcase in hand, she headed to the business center.
She’d been working for several hours when the door opened yet again. The place was busy, with a conference in the ballroom and the usual general weekday traveler business.
“Is this seat taken?”
Torie swiveled around, looked at Paul. He stood there, big as life. In his hands he carried yet another vase of flowers. These were weeping over in a fabulous riot of color and form.
“Oh, those are beautiful.”
“I’d like to say something clichéd like, ‘They’re not as beautiful as you,’ but that would sound sappy.”
“Go ahead, be sappy.”
“No,” he said, setting the flowers on the table and leaning down to kiss her. “I’ll be as sappy as you want. Later.”
“Okay.”
He sat down in the other chair, looking over the notes she had spread all over the table. “You’ve been busy.”
“It’s been fun,” she said, surprised to find she meant it. “Here, let me show you.” She turned the pad around and showed him the outline of the plan for her business. “If I were to capitalize enough, I could get office space pretty quickly.”
“I don’t think it’ll be a problem. What are you going to do about TruStructure?”
She copied his posture, leaning back in the chair. “I don’t know. Part of me wants to call them and say screw you. Another part of me is scared to death to start this whole thing, and I want to call them and say, ‘Hey, I’m exonerated, when can I come back?’”
“You really do have grounds for a lawsuit, you know, especially since you have been cleared of all charges. We got the letter this morning, by the way.”
“Oh, good. But do I want to do that? Open that can of worms?”
They discussed it for a while, and his insights were right on target. She showed him the listing sheet for the house, too, and told him about Kuhman and the walk-through. He didn’t seem surprised that the house was near his place in Lansdowne.
“That’s a lot of work to take on, especially if you’re starting a new business as well.” He leaned forward, elbows on the table. “With both houses, the dogs, everything changes.”
“I know.” She hesitated, not sure how to tell him what she was feeling.
“But?”
“It feels right.”
Paul leaned back again. “Then it’s the right thing to do.”
“Wow. Really?”
Her expression must have been shocked because a grinning Paul shifted forward to tap her lower jaw, pat it back up into place. “Really. C’mon.”
“Where?”
“Pack up, I’m taking you to lunch. We’ll start our celebrating early.”
Chapter Twenty
“Good evening, my dear.” Mr. Pratt greeted her in the lobby later that night with a satisfied smile and a single rose. “Beauty needs no adornment, but I thought you might enjoy this.”
“You are delightful, Mister Pratt.”
“Call me Pratt, my dear. My late wife was fond of that, and I find I like it.”
“Well, then, Pratt, shall we?”
“With pleasure.” He offered his arm, and they strolled out to the limousine parked under the portico of the hotel. Torie tensed slightly, scanning the parking area and the street. “Something wrong, my dear?”
“A little nervous, I guess, about the bodyguards.”
He patted her hand where it lay on his arm. “Not to worry, they’re there. No worries, either, about the group. They don’t bite. Quite the contrary, in fact. They’re a remarkably friendly crew for lawyers.”
“For lawyers, yes. I guess I don’t want anyone to feel that there’s an outsider in their midst.”
“Nonsense. Here we are,” he said, holding the door. She slid into the limo to find a small table holding hors d’oeuvres and champagne. She also found a smiling Paul Jameson.
“Hello, Torie.”
She couldn’t help it. Her heart began to race.
“There now, my dear,” Pratt said as he settled into the seat. “Have a canapé. We’ll ask Paul to pop that cork so we can have a little private celebration. I quite surprised our Paul by inviting you to be my guest, you know.”
“I’m sure you did.”
“He’s a stubborn lad, our Paul,” Pratt said, smiling fondly at Paul. “I’ve told him that life is short. He listens politely, then does what he wants, much like any young man.”
There was a muffled pop and Paul directed the frothing bubbly into flutes clipped into the small table.
They each took a glass and raised them.
“To friendships long and dear. To life, and new beginnings.” Pratt raised his glass and drank, and she and Paul did the same.
“So, Torie dear, are you going to let us represent you and harass your employers?”
He said it with such jovial good humor that she almost agreed before she realized what he was saying. “I’m not sure, Pratt. I’m considering…” she hesitated, but Paul gave a subtle nod. “I’m considering going out on my own. I’ve built a reputation and have been asked several times if I would consider jobs outside the office.” Once she got started, it all came out in a rush.
“Well, not to push our business on you, but we’re here to help with that as well. Still,” he mused, “you ought to at least let us get you emotional damages from the bastards.”
Paul laughed. “Sounds good. Don’t worry, Torie. I won’t let them get too mean with it, but you deserve something for all they’ve put you through. They haven’t called you to come back yet, have they?”
“No.”
“There we go,” Pratt said. “That’s settled then. Paul tells me you’ll be in on Monday. We’ll talk about it then. For now, it’s an evening to put work aside and have a little fun. Will you let me steal her for one waltz, Paul?” The older man was enjoying himself playing the matchmaker, Torie could tell.
“Of course, sir.”
“No sirring tonight, Paul. I’m just Pratt. So, have some more champagne. Now Torie, tell me about your plans.”
Their enthusiastic interest buoyed Torie’s ideas for her business so much that she was nearly giddy by the time they arrived at the exclusive mansion near Fairmont Park. The limo let them out at the door, and Torie entered on Pratt’s arm with Paul coming in behind them. Most of the invited staff were already there, sipping cocktails and holding full plates of hors d’oeuvres. When Pratt and Torie rounded the corner, the volume of conversation dropped, but picked back up again.
“Paul!” Several people hailed him, one dubbing him the man of the hour.
“Thanks for the excuse to have a party on the old man,” another partner said as he slapped him on the back and shook hands with Torie. She never got his name. She, Pratt, and Paul made the rounds, and when the chimes sounded for dinner, the two men escorted her to her seat, flanking her at the table.
“This is lovely, Pratt. I feel like a princess.”
“You look like one, too, dear.”
Melvin Jr. and his date, an attractive dark-haired woman, sat down. “Hello, Father. I believe you remember Sylvia.”
“Yes, good evening.” Pratt’s welcome was less than warm, but he was courteous. Introductions around the table got to Torie, and Sylvia’s eyebrows arched nearly to her hairline.
“Ah, you have been in the papers of late.”
Before Torie could speak, Pratt rose to her defense. “We won’t be discussing that tonight. We’re here to celebrate.”
“Of course.”
The meal progressed, and Torie found it hard to keep her mind on the conversation. Underneath the table, Paul had found the slit in her dress. He wasn’t doing anything that could be seen, merely running the tip of one finger up and down her leg as far as the fabric would allow.