The Corporate Wife Page 5

  “Because you always do. It’s like you have radar where his girlfriends are concerned. There are times, you know,” Sarah grumbled, “when your standards regarding office gossip are truly annoying.” She thumbed through the bits of paper. “I wonder who’ll be next. It’s about time for a redhead, don’t you think? Have you noticed how he almost never goes for brunettes? Do you suppose it’s because he has us?”

  “No doubt,” Erin said. She couldn’t help but wonder what Sarah would say if she knew about that conversation last night. And she speculated, as she turned away, what Sarah had meant by radar. Didn’t any good personal assistant make it a point to know what was going on with the boss?

  *****

  At lunchtime, Erin left her list on her desk and a file folder open to the task she’d just begun, and told Sarah she was going down to the cafeteria in the lobby.

  “Want to deliver Tonio’s check and save me the trip?” Sarah asked. “How many flowers did you get yesterday, anyway?”

  Erin glanced at the figures on the check and said, “More than we’re paying for.” She tucked the slip of paper into the pocket of her pinstriped jacket.

  Tonio was helping a customer choose the brightest pink carnations from his supply, and Erin waited patiently till he was finished. “About this bill,” she said as she handed over the check. “I’d like to talk to you about it.”

  Tonio looked past her, as if he was uneasy. “Some other time, Miss?” he murmured and greeted the next customer.

  Puzzled, she went on into the cafeteria, picked up a salad from the display, and looked around the crowded dining room for an empty seat. The lobby cafeteria was very good, but it had its drawbacks – including being almost too handy to the office. That, coupled with the fact that it was one of the busiest places around, meant it was a rare day when customers didn’t have to share tables, so co-workers tended to gather in clumps.

  The only empty seat she could see was at a table for four, where Dax Porter was beckoning to her. Across from him, smiling at Erin, were two women who worked in the advertising department.

  Erin tried to smother her irritation. With a salad already in her hand, it was too late to pretend she hadn’t come for lunch, so she crossed the room and joined them. To make matters worse, the empty seat was the one next to Dax. If he’d planned it that way, he couldn’t have done a better job.

  The two women were soon brainstorming an ad slogan, and Erin wanted to point out to them that doing so in public was probably not the wisest way to keep a campaign under wraps.

  Dax leaned toward her and said quietly, “You look worn out. I always thought Livingstone’s parties couldn’t be much fun. Everybody sitting around talking about systems controls and the best designs for new switching mechanisms... What was the topic du jour last night? Fine-tuning safety measures for nuclear power plants?”

  “More likely how to keep communications satellites doing precisely what they’re supposed to do.”

  “It figures. If you brought up a Broadway play, none of them would know what you were talking about.” Dax looked over her shoulder into the lobby. “Who’s that with Livingstone? Just getting out of the elevator.”

  Erin turned to look. Was it the slightly wavy glass of the wall which made Slater – and Bob Brannagan, for that matter – look a bit somber? Or were they just on their way to lunch somewhere, with the fine points of their deal still undecided?

  “That’s the satellite king of the western hemisphere.” She poured a little more dressing on her salad and raised her voice in order to cut through the discussion across the table. “Does anybody here like ballet? We’ve got some orphaned tickets for Thursday night.”

  “Muscular men in tights?” Dax made a face. “It’s not my kind of thing. But of course if you’re going, Erin…”

  That was not the best move you’ve ever made, Erin told herself. “Sorry, I’m busy that night.”

  He nodded. “That’s when the Senator’s due, isn’t it? Of course you’ll be up to your neck in that affair.”

  A cafeteria worker appeared beside the table. “Ms. Reynolds? Your secretary needs you right away.”

  Grateful for the reprieve, Erin pushed her salad away. “Sorry, everybody.”

  “Who’s the boss up there, anyway?” Dax asked. “Sarah?”

  “Sometimes,” Erin said lightly. She didn’t figure it was worth explaining that if Sarah was panicked enough to interrupt her at lunch, something was definitely wrong.

  The instant she walked into the office she got the picture. Sitting near Sarah’s desk, a magazine open on her lap and her legs elegantly crossed, was the satellite king’s wife.

  Mrs. Brannagan looked up with a smile. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I didn’t realize you’d gone to lunch. I just came along with Bob on the spur of the moment, you see. I was hoping that we could finish the delightful conversation we were having last night when that young woman arrived and you suddenly disappeared. But I didn’t realize I was dragging you away from your break.”

  “It’s nothing, Mrs. Brannagan. Would you like to come into my office?”

  “Can’t I make it up to you by taking you out for lunch? You can’t have enjoyed your food – if you had time for any at all – and it would make me feel so much better.”

  Erin thought of the list of projects lying on her desk, but she knew that none of them would be as important in Slater’s eyes as the good will to be gained from better acquaintance with Mrs. Brannagan. The only thing that surprised her about the situation, in fact, was that he’d actually left the office before being assured the woman was properly entertained.

  But of course that was Erin’s job, and he obviously had faith that she’d carry through. “I’d be delighted, Mrs. Brannagan. Is there somewhere in particular you’d like to go?”

  The woman picked up her handbag. “That’s part of my problem,” she confided. “I know absolutely nothing about St. Louis. So perhaps I can also pick your brain about where to shop, and what to see? And I’d love to go to the top of the Arch, but Bob doesn’t like heights and I don’t want to go alone.”

  “Then we’ll do that after lunch,” Erin said.

  Mrs. Brannagan beamed. “My dear, does Mr. Livingstone have any idea how fortunate he is to have you?”

  Will you marry me? he had said. We fit, you and I.

  Solid, sensible, practical Erin, who had turned down a very long, very secure employment contract...

  Erin managed to keep her voice light. “I doubt it. But he hasn’t threatened to fire me, so I suppose it doesn’t really matter.”

  *****

  Erin spent most of the afternoon with Frances Brannagan and arrived back in the office just as Sarah was shutting down her computer for the day. She perched on the corner of Sarah’s desk and glanced toward Slater’s closed door. “Is he still here?”

  “Oh, yes.” Sarah rolled her eyes. “I’m not going home, I’m escaping.”

  “T. rex?”

  “Megalosaurus,” Sarah said in dire tones.

  “That’s worse?”

  “Infinitely. They preferred even bigger prey.”

  The door of the inner office opened and Slater appeared, buttoning his jacket. “Sarah, if Erin gets back before–.” He paused. “Did you have a pleasant afternoon?”

  Erin shrugged and smothered the desire to point out that she had not exactly been playing hooky. “That must be the thousandth time I’ve ridden to the top of the Arch, but other than that, it was all right. I’ll get through as much of the list as I can this evening, sir.”

  “It can wait. You’re as tired as the rest of us.”

  She could hear the heaviness of disappointment in his voice. Instinct made her say, “Didn’t the Brannagan deal come off after all?” She could read the answer in his eyes. “But I thought it was pretty much decided. What happened?”

  “Brannagan wouldn’t say. Come on, I’ll drive you home. It’s practically on my way.”

  When the parking valet brought
the convertible around, the top was down. “Do you mind, Erin? It’ll be chilly.”

  “The fresh air will feel good. You must be terribly disappointed. You’ve worked so hard to put that deal together.”

  “Horatio Alger to the contrary, hard work does not always pay off.”

  “And the strangest things can kill negotiations.”

  “The odd thing about it,” Slater mused, “is that I don’t think the deal is dead altogether. I’d swear he’s still just as interested. But unless I can figure out what threw the wrench in the works and fix it, it isn’t going to come back to life, either.” The convertible drew up at a traffic light and he glanced at Erin. “I don’t suppose Mrs. Brannagan let anything slip?”

  Erin shook her head. “Not a word about business, his or yours. The only things she seemed interested in were shopping, sightseeing and relationships.”

  “Sounds like a very exciting afternoon.” Slater’s voice was dry. “What kind of relationships?”

  “Mine, mostly. And then there was Cecile. Mrs. Brannagan didn’t seem to hit it off with the worthy Cecile at all, but she couldn’t stop commenting about her.”

  “Remind me to give you a raise. I’ll consider it as combat pay.”

  “Thank you,” Erin said calmly. “With a raise, I could almost afford to window-shop at the shops she liked best. I was starting to think the woman’s a frustrated matchmaker. Do you know if the Brannagans have a grown-up son?”

  “Not offhand. Want me to ask?”

  “I have a feeling that won’t be necessary. If I passed her daughter-in-law test, I’ll find out soon enough.” Erin glanced at her watch as her townhouse came into sight. “Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee?” She thought she caught a hint of surprise in his face, and added hastily, “My mother should be home, and she asked last night why I didn’t invite you in.” Oh, that was a great improvement, she told herself wryly. Now what’s he supposed to think? that I’m dying to have him meet my mother?

  “Thanks,” Slater said, “but I have a couple of things to do.”

  “Oh, of course. You said this was almost on your way.” She reached for the door handle.

  “I’ll come in long enough to say hello, though,” Slater said, and parked the car in the only vacant spot in the block.

  Erin opened the front door and called her mother’s name, but there was no answer. “Maybe she stayed to work late. I’m sorry.”

  “Perhaps another time.” To her relief, Slater’s voice was completely casual. “See you tomorrow, Erin.”

  She stepped inside and began to unbutton her coat, letting her eyes adjust to the dimmer light in the front hallway before she moved around the corner toward the closet. As she reached for a hanger, her gaze fell on the shadowed area at the foot of the stairs, and on Angela Reynolds, sprawled on her side on the carpet like a puppet dropped by a careless child. Her eyes were open and dilated, her face gray and drenched with perspiration.

  “Mother?” Erin’s voice shook.

  Angela muttered something that sounded like gibberish and raised a hand as if to press it against her temple. But she was too weak; the hand dropped to the floor with a thud.

  Erin jerked the front door open. “Slater!” There was a note just short of hysteria in her voice.

  He was already halfway down the sidewalk, but he needed only three strides to reach her. “What is it, Erin?”

  She couldn’t speak. Instead, she seized his arm and pulled him inside the townhouse, to where her mother lay – just as Angela began to gasp for breath.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The ambulance crew was young, professional, and very efficient; despite the fact that Erin could tell them almost nothing about Angela’s collapse, it seemed to Erin to be just minutes before they had her mother stabilized and ready to transport.

  She started out the door, without her coat, behind the stretcher, only to discover that the rules forbidding anyone except medical personnel from riding along with the patient were as inflexible as polished granite.

  Erin started to protest, her voice shaking, her words almost incoherent.

  Slater cut her off. “I’ll take you,” he said firmly, pulling her back inside the townhouse, and a moment later the ambulance screamed off down the street.

  “That’s my mother,” Erin stormed. “How dare they not let me go with her?”

  “Because the last thing they need while they’re trying to take care of her is for you to have hysterics in the ambulance,” Slater said calmly.

  The comment was like a glass of cold water in the face. “I wouldn’t do anything of the sort.”

  “You’re not going to have the opportunity. Take a deep breath, and as soon as we’ve checked the house I’ll drive you over.”

  Erin seized her coat from the floor where she’d dropped it. “I’m ready to go right now.”

  “You won’t be able to be with her right away,” he pointed out. “Not till they’ve at least started to get things figured out. So let’s take a couple of minutes to be sure we aren’t leaving windows open and bathtubs running, or you’ll be sitting at the hospital with nothing to do but worry whether everything’s all right here.”

  She couldn’t summon enough logic to argue, so she trailed after him instead as he walked through every room. When he found the teakettle that Angela must have put on the stove, now boiled dry and red hot, Erin bit her lip and admitted, if only to herself, that she was far too unnerved to act sensibly.

  It was Slater who locked the front door, because Erin’s hands were shaking too badly to hold the key. And in the waiting room just outside emergency, he got her a cup of coffee from the vending machine, and then held her hand around the lukewarm paper cup till she could keep herself steady once more.

  The bitter brew hit her like an ax, dissipating the fog which had surrounded her, and Erin shuddered and sat up straighter. For the first time since she’d dragged him into the townhouse, she looked directly at Slater. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  He raised his gaze from the muddy contents of his own cup, obviously startled. “For what?”

  “All of it. Acting crazy.”

  “You do have some excuse, you know.”

  She shook her head. “Not really. And the way I dragged you into this. You did say you had things to do. So…”

  “Nothing as important as this.”

  “I just meant that if you need to go, sir, I understand.”

  “A little while ago,” Slater mused, “you used my name.”

  “Did I?” She could hardly remember anything she’d said; she simply knew that at the moment she’d seen her mother lying limp and helpless, her only thought had been that Slater would know precisely what to do. “Anyway, thanks for bringing me. But there really isn’t any need for you to stay now.”

  “Are you kicking me out?” he said levelly. “Do you want to be alone, Erin?”

  “No,” she admitted. “No, I don’t. But…” She reached almost automatically under the open collar of her blouse for the delicate chain which hung around her neck, rubbing it between two fingers as if it was a talisman.

  “Then I’ll stay a while. Is there anyone you need to notify? I’ll make the calls, if you like.”

  Erin felt a tinge of humor trickle through her. “You can actually dial a phone? Sarah will be impressed to hear that.”

  “Be a sport, Erin. You aren’t really going to tell her, are you?” His tone grew suddenly serious once more. “Do you have sisters or brothers?”

  “No. Neither.” The weight which had so unexpectedly – and so briefly – lifted crashed back onto her shoulders again. She was entirely alone; if there were decisions to be made, choices Angela couldn’t make for herself, it was Erin who would have to carry the burden.

  “Don’t assume the worst,” Slater said as sharply as if he’d read her mind. “Wait till you’ve got some hard information. In the meantime, there’s nothing to be gained by exhausting yourself fretting about the unknown. Keep your stre
ngth up for when we know something.”

  “Easier to say than do,” Erin muttered, and was ashamed of herself for carping at him. “Sorry. I know you’re only trying to help.”

  Slater didn’t answer directly. “I assume, since your mother lives with you, that your father is deceased?”

  “No,” Erin said. “Far from it, in fact. But there’s no need to call him.”

  “They’re divorced?”

  She sighed. “It’s been about two years since it was final. So this is really nothing to do with him.”

  “Still, perhaps your mother would want him to know.”

  “No.” Erin’s voice was firm. “Believe me, if she woke up to find Jack Reynolds standing beside her bed, she’d go straight off into a seizure and then we’d really be in the soup.”

  He was watching her intently, she realized, his gaze focused on her fingertips as she rubbed the dainty chain. She let it drop back out of sight under her collar. “How could I not have known something was so very wrong?” she said. “She told me last night she’d had a headache and an upset stomach, but nothing on this scale. If I’d had any idea–”

  “Of course you didn’t know. Besides, Erin, she’s an adult, fully capable of looking after herself. Obviously she didn’t think it was anything serious.”

  “It could have happened yesterday, when I was gone so long. I might not have found her till too late.”

  “Knock it off.” His voice was almost rough. “You’re driving yourself crazy with could-haves, Erin, and there’s no reason for it.”

  “But she could have lain there for hours before I got home.” She stared at him, wide-eyed. “She might have, anyway, because I don’t have any idea when she came home from work today.”

  “I don’t think it had been more than a few minutes. Remember the teakettle? It wouldn’t have taken long, once it got good and hot, to boil dry.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I’d forgotten about the kettle.” She felt herself start to shiver. “It could have started a fire.”

  “But it didn’t. And if you don’t cut it out, Erin, I’m going to shake you.”