I’ll admit I
wouldn’t have recognized it. I don’t see a single touch of black."
Automatically Lacey followed his gaze around the room she had designed with
the inspiration of an English country house in mind. Sunny yellow walls
reflected the California light and the restrained flowered rug formed a backdrop
to the four-poster bed with its whimsical carved parrots. More colorful birds
graced the crewel quilt. One or two Chinese antiques anchored the lighter shades
but Jed was right in his observation: There wasn’t a hint of black.
"This room," Lacey declared with great emphasis, "is not a showroom. Being a
house guest does not give you the entire run of the place, Jed. Will you please
leave?"
"So this room is done the way you really want it; huh?" He looked vastly
interested, fingering the quilt with an appraising touch. "Not as an example for
potential clients?"
"Jed!"
His eyes swept over her nearly bare shoulders, taking in the thin straps of
the low-cut peach satin of her nightgown. Lacey was infuriated with herself as
she sensed the heat rising in her cheeks. Her eyes narrowing angrily, she opened
her mouth to add another warning.
"It’s okay, I’m going," he told her hastily. "Don’t I even get any thanks for
the coffee?"
"I don’t know yet. I haven’t tasted it."
"It’s the thought that counts," he reminded her from the door. Then he was
out of the room, leaving Lacey with the fleeting impression of having had her
English country garden briefly invaded.
He was waiting for her half an hour later when she emerged in a sleek gray
skirt, a raspberry silk blouse with a large bow at the throat, and a soft,
body-skimming black jacket. Glancing up from the morning paper he was perusing
over his coffee, Jed shot Lacey an inquiring glance.
"I take it from the way you’re dressed that we’re not going to the beach?"
"I’m going into work for a few hours," she told him pointedly, sitting down
at the table and reaching for the box of cereal he’d already put out. "I have an
appointment with a client. You may do as you please, so long as you’re available
for dinner this evening. I like that shirt, by the way," she-added grudgingly as
she eyed the conservatively striped material.
He smiled benignly. "I thought you would. I chose it with you in mind."
"Just think of the wonderful new wardrobe you’re going to have to show off to
your friends," she retorted sweetly.
‘‘They’ll probably kick me out of the commune. When are you going to be
home?"
"Around noon."
"And where are we going for dinner tonight?"
"A place over in Marina Del Rey. A lot of Rick’s friends hang out there on
the weekends," she said with outward calm.
"And you want to make certain we’re seen, right?"
Lacey nodded and finished her cereal in near silence. It wasn’t simply the
increasing tension as her plans began to become reality that was making her
edgy, she realized. It was Jed’s unsettling presence. The intimacy over the
breakfast table was unnerving, to say the least, although he seemed totally at
ease. When the time came to leave for work, Lacey almost fled the apartment.
Indeed, her office, which was part showroom and part studio, seemed a welcome
refuge that morning. With an eagerness born of a desire to temporarily forget
her personal problems, Lacey prepared for the arrival of her client. By the time
a somewhat apprehensive Mrs. Elizabeth Hadley walked through her door, Lacey was
ready for her.
"Good morning, Mrs. Hadley. You’re right on time. I’m looking forward to
showing you some of the initial plans I’ve prepared. After that walk-through of
your charming home last week, I came right back here and started putting
together some ideas. I think you’re going to love them."
The forty-year-old conservatively dressed woman looked at Lacey with
uncertain hope in her gray-green eyes. The Hadleys had only recently moved to
the Los Angeles area from the Midwest, Mr.
wouldn’t have recognized it. I don’t see a single touch of black."
Automatically Lacey followed his gaze around the room she had designed with
the inspiration of an English country house in mind. Sunny yellow walls
reflected the California light and the restrained flowered rug formed a backdrop
to the four-poster bed with its whimsical carved parrots. More colorful birds
graced the crewel quilt. One or two Chinese antiques anchored the lighter shades
but Jed was right in his observation: There wasn’t a hint of black.
"This room," Lacey declared with great emphasis, "is not a showroom. Being a
house guest does not give you the entire run of the place, Jed. Will you please
leave?"
"So this room is done the way you really want it; huh?" He looked vastly
interested, fingering the quilt with an appraising touch. "Not as an example for
potential clients?"
"Jed!"
His eyes swept over her nearly bare shoulders, taking in the thin straps of
the low-cut peach satin of her nightgown. Lacey was infuriated with herself as
she sensed the heat rising in her cheeks. Her eyes narrowing angrily, she opened
her mouth to add another warning.
"It’s okay, I’m going," he told her hastily. "Don’t I even get any thanks for
the coffee?"
"I don’t know yet. I haven’t tasted it."
"It’s the thought that counts," he reminded her from the door. Then he was
out of the room, leaving Lacey with the fleeting impression of having had her
English country garden briefly invaded.
He was waiting for her half an hour later when she emerged in a sleek gray
skirt, a raspberry silk blouse with a large bow at the throat, and a soft,
body-skimming black jacket. Glancing up from the morning paper he was perusing
over his coffee, Jed shot Lacey an inquiring glance.
"I take it from the way you’re dressed that we’re not going to the beach?"
"I’m going into work for a few hours," she told him pointedly, sitting down
at the table and reaching for the box of cereal he’d already put out. "I have an
appointment with a client. You may do as you please, so long as you’re available
for dinner this evening. I like that shirt, by the way," she-added grudgingly as
she eyed the conservatively striped material.
He smiled benignly. "I thought you would. I chose it with you in mind."
"Just think of the wonderful new wardrobe you’re going to have to show off to
your friends," she retorted sweetly.
‘‘They’ll probably kick me out of the commune. When are you going to be
home?"
"Around noon."
"And where are we going for dinner tonight?"
"A place over in Marina Del Rey. A lot of Rick’s friends hang out there on
the weekends," she said with outward calm.
"And you want to make certain we’re seen, right?"
Lacey nodded and finished her cereal in near silence. It wasn’t simply the
increasing tension as her plans began to become reality that was making her
edgy, she realized. It was Jed’s unsettling presence. The intimacy over the
breakfast table was unnerving, to say the least, although he seemed totally at
ease. When the time came to leave for work, Lacey almost fled the apartment.
Indeed, her office, which was part showroom and part studio, seemed a welcome
refuge that morning. With an eagerness born of a desire to temporarily forget
her personal problems, Lacey prepared for the arrival of her client. By the time
a somewhat apprehensive Mrs. Elizabeth Hadley walked through her door, Lacey was
ready for her.
"Good morning, Mrs. Hadley. You’re right on time. I’m looking forward to
showing you some of the initial plans I’ve prepared. After that walk-through of
your charming home last week, I came right back here and started putting
together some ideas. I think you’re going to love them."
The forty-year-old conservatively dressed woman looked at Lacey with
uncertain hope in her gray-green eyes. The Hadleys had only recently moved to
the Los Angeles area from the Midwest, Mr.
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