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Authors: Candace Schuler
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shoulder through the blankets. She forced herself not to jerk away from him. "I'm sorry about this, Daffy. About leaving you like this right after..." He hesitated slightly, not knowing what to say.
Daphne stopped him before he could go any further. "It's okay," she said woodenly, still hearing those words he had said to the nurse, or whoever it was on the other end of the phone. You didn't interrupt anything important. "I really do understand. Duty calls."
Adam straightened, his expression disconcerted and doubtful, but Daphne wasn't looking at him. She was studying the polish on her left thumbnail.
"Maybe we could get together for lunch tomorrow," he suggested.
Rather halfheartedly, Daphne thought. It was obvious the invitation sprung from his innate sense of obligation. She didn't want any part of any mercy lunch. You didn't interrupt anything important.
"I don't think so," she said, without looking at him.
"But—"
"No, really, I can't." She lifted her head, forcing herself to smile at him. "I have to catch an early plane home tomorrow." She slid from the bed, wrapping the bedspread around her as she rose. "So it's really kind of fortunate that call came when it did." She rounded the end of the bed and headed for the door of her room, the green and gold spread trailing behind her like a train. "I need to get up really early tomorrow." She gave him what she hoped was a casual look as she reached for the doorknob. "And I'm a real grouch when I don't get enough sleep. Remember?" She pulled open the door, shielding her half-clad body behind it. "Well, it's been lovely seeing you again, Adam," she went on, tacitly inviting him to leave. "We must do it again sometime."
Adam hesitated for a moment, irresolute, unsure how to respond. Something flickered in his eyes for a moment, and then he shrugged and forced a smile. Tossing his tuxedo jacket over his shoulder, he strolled toward Daphne. He stopped at the open door and lifted her chin with his free hand. Daphne clutched the bedspread tighter.
"Give me a call next time you're in town and we will," he suggested, dropping a quick, careless kiss on her astonished mouth before he left.
Chapter 5
"Daphne, telephone!" Elaine shouted to make herself heard across the length of the busy workroom. "Line two," she added, carelessly dropping the receiver back onto the cradle of the phone as she punched the hold button.
Daphne looked up from her drawing board, her stomach clenching in anticipation. "Who is it?"
"Clare." Elaine made a face as she got up from her desk. "From the Dragon Lady Boutique. Again. "
Daphne's stomach unclenched. She placed the violet pencil she had been using in the shallow trough at the bottom of her slanted drawing table. Pushing up the sleeves of her silk knit sweater with a resigned gesture, she reached for the wall phone that hung to the left of her cluttered work space.
"She says we positively, absolutely did not include the beaded belts with that last shipment of dresses," Elaine began to explain before Daphne had a chance to lift the receiver. "I told her they were packed separately so as not to snag the dresses, but does she listen to me? No-o-o, of course not. She wants to talk to you. I told her you were too busy but—"
Daphne shook her head at her assistant, silencing her tirade, and put the receiver to her ear. "Clare, how nice to hear from you," she said, lying through her teeth as she proceeded to verbally pour liberal amounts of oil—or something—over troubled waters.
Strictly speaking, this sort of thing was Elaine's job, Daphne thought with a flash of irritation as she listened to the complaining voice on the other end of the phone. Elaine was supposed to handle orders and back-orders, invoices and bills, shipments and slip-ups, and she had her own perky little nineteen-year-old intern to help her.
So why, thought Daphne, am I talking to the Dragon Lady? As if I don't have enough to do.
She was up to her ears in
Daphne stopped him before he could go any further. "It's okay," she said woodenly, still hearing those words he had said to the nurse, or whoever it was on the other end of the phone. You didn't interrupt anything important. "I really do understand. Duty calls."
Adam straightened, his expression disconcerted and doubtful, but Daphne wasn't looking at him. She was studying the polish on her left thumbnail.
"Maybe we could get together for lunch tomorrow," he suggested.
Rather halfheartedly, Daphne thought. It was obvious the invitation sprung from his innate sense of obligation. She didn't want any part of any mercy lunch. You didn't interrupt anything important.
"I don't think so," she said, without looking at him.
"But—"
"No, really, I can't." She lifted her head, forcing herself to smile at him. "I have to catch an early plane home tomorrow." She slid from the bed, wrapping the bedspread around her as she rose. "So it's really kind of fortunate that call came when it did." She rounded the end of the bed and headed for the door of her room, the green and gold spread trailing behind her like a train. "I need to get up really early tomorrow." She gave him what she hoped was a casual look as she reached for the doorknob. "And I'm a real grouch when I don't get enough sleep. Remember?" She pulled open the door, shielding her half-clad body behind it. "Well, it's been lovely seeing you again, Adam," she went on, tacitly inviting him to leave. "We must do it again sometime."
Adam hesitated for a moment, irresolute, unsure how to respond. Something flickered in his eyes for a moment, and then he shrugged and forced a smile. Tossing his tuxedo jacket over his shoulder, he strolled toward Daphne. He stopped at the open door and lifted her chin with his free hand. Daphne clutched the bedspread tighter.
"Give me a call next time you're in town and we will," he suggested, dropping a quick, careless kiss on her astonished mouth before he left.
Chapter 5
"Daphne, telephone!" Elaine shouted to make herself heard across the length of the busy workroom. "Line two," she added, carelessly dropping the receiver back onto the cradle of the phone as she punched the hold button.
Daphne looked up from her drawing board, her stomach clenching in anticipation. "Who is it?"
"Clare." Elaine made a face as she got up from her desk. "From the Dragon Lady Boutique. Again. "
Daphne's stomach unclenched. She placed the violet pencil she had been using in the shallow trough at the bottom of her slanted drawing table. Pushing up the sleeves of her silk knit sweater with a resigned gesture, she reached for the wall phone that hung to the left of her cluttered work space.
"She says we positively, absolutely did not include the beaded belts with that last shipment of dresses," Elaine began to explain before Daphne had a chance to lift the receiver. "I told her they were packed separately so as not to snag the dresses, but does she listen to me? No-o-o, of course not. She wants to talk to you. I told her you were too busy but—"
Daphne shook her head at her assistant, silencing her tirade, and put the receiver to her ear. "Clare, how nice to hear from you," she said, lying through her teeth as she proceeded to verbally pour liberal amounts of oil—or something—over troubled waters.
Strictly speaking, this sort of thing was Elaine's job, Daphne thought with a flash of irritation as she listened to the complaining voice on the other end of the phone. Elaine was supposed to handle orders and back-orders, invoices and bills, shipments and slip-ups, and she had her own perky little nineteen-year-old intern to help her.
So why, thought Daphne, am I talking to the Dragon Lady? As if I don't have enough to do.
She was up to her ears in
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