Drawn to the Flames

5

5On Monday morning, Harrison Hill’s assistant, Jeannie, phoned Kate. Sandy, the Parsons & Sheffield receptionist, rang Kate’s desk phone. Kate told her to wait while she finished up another call. Then she looked at her watch. For a long, disciplined minute she waited, and thought. Not about her approach to Hill. That was laid out. No, Kate thought about that murky afternoon two weeks earlier when she’d been the temporary companion of one of the most handsome, exciting, and brilliant men on the planet. And, not to be subtle, by far the wealthiest one she’d ever been up close and not-yet personal with. When he’d helped her from her car in the Olsen driveway, the touch of his fingers on hers had sent a jolt though her body that seared away all her past disappointments with men like so much burnt toast. She simply had to feel that electricity again. At the sixtieth second, she instinctively brushed back a rebellious strand of her natural reddish-brown hair and picked up her phone.

“It’s Jeannie, Ms. Hadley, Mr. Hill’s assistant?”

Ah. Her again. “Hello, Jeannie. Let me transfer this call to my private office.”

“That isn’t necessary, Ms. Hadley. Mr. Hill won’t be able to talk to you today, I’m afraid. He asked if he may call you on Wednesday morning, instead.”

Kate very nearly lost her aplomb – literally all over this oh-so-polite and prim Jeannie’s head. “Is he there now, please? For a minute?”

“No. ma’am. He’s with clients, in Vancouver.”

“You’re not with him?”

“Oh, no, Ms. Hadley. I’m chained to the desk here in San Francisco.” Of course you are, b***h, Kate thought uncharitably. “His traveling assistant is the one who gets to fly around to all the fun places. She’s a scratch golfer, so the clients adore her,” Jeannie added unnecessarily.

“I see,” Kate said after a really long “as if I give a crap” pause. She could see, in fact, and the sight was more than she’d bargained for. “I’m busy in the morning, Jeannie, sorry. Could we make it Wednesday afternoon? Say, two-thirty?”

Ralph was sympathetic. “Come on, Katy. He’s got clients to deal with, same as us. At least they’re calling you and keeping you informed. That says he really means to talk with you. Relax, okay? And don’t forget. We have the North Bay Realtors banquet on Thursday.”

“Ralph that’s the last bunch of people I want to be with right now.”

“I understand, sweetheart, but the word’s out you just sold the Stelton estate. You’re my star, now. If you fail to show people will wonder why.”

Finally, Wednesday afternoon rolled around. True to his pledge, Hill’s rich baritone voice came on the line at two-thirty sharp. She had again commandeered Parsons’s desk, and she was ready. “Kathryn? May I call you by your first name?”

“My friends call me Kate, Mr. Hill.”

“Well, I hope to be one of them. I know that may be hard to believe after the way I insisted on seeing those houses on short notice a few Saturdays back. I hope you were able to get to your girl’s debate match in time.”

“It’s no matter, Mr. Hill. I’m always late, it seems. Anyway, I should apologize for allowing you to persuade Ralph to have me open up those two filthy houses for you. He’s usually a sales genius, but that was one of his weaker calls.”

“I understand. At least forgive me for Friday. And for Seattle.”

“It’s not necessary, Mr. Hill,” Kate said. “I can imagine how busy you must be.” What’s in Seattle other than rain? Or, given your playboy image, who’s in Seattle. And who won the golf match?

“Please, Kate: it’s Harry, okay? And yes, some weeks are frantic. Like this one. That’s what I need to talk to you about. May I?”

“Sure.”

“Thank you. Now, about seeing the houses…”

“Yes?” Kate answered, steeling herself for the bad news.

“Turns out I’ve got to fly to New York tomorrow. I’d invite you to come with me, but I don’t imagine your firm has any listings there to show me.”

As angry as she was at being put off again, Kate was suddenly warm at the lame flirting attempt. If that’s what it was.

“I’ll be back late on Sunday. May I call you next Monday and reschedule?”

All the remaining air went out of Kate’s balloon. Damn you, Mr. Harrison-f*****g Hill. Think! What would Ralph say? “It would help to know the date, Mr. Hill. The crew is working hard to finish the rehab work.”

“Please, Kate, it’s Harry. And I feel like an i***t,” he added. And you should! “You have a point. Would Monday the twenty-ninth work?”

Did he think he could jerk her around like his traveling golf caddie girl or whatever she was?

“Kate? Are you there?”

Kate woke up. Jesus!

“Umm, sorry, Mr. Hill. The um, twenty-ninth? Let me check my calendar.” She grabbed a sheaf of contracts from Ralph’s desk, put the phone handset down next to them and loudly rifled through them. “Yes, Mr. Hill, we can do Monday. But I’ll need to confirm that the Smith house is accessible.”

“Was that the classic old wooden place on the hill?”

“Yes,” Kate answered.

“Scratch that one, please. Too far out of town. Just the traditional place you mentioned and the crazy contemporary one again, afterward. Can you make that happen?”

“Of course,” Kate answered, relieved he seemed to be speaking fondly of the infamously unsaleable Olsen house.

“And may I take you to lunch in between?” He asked. “Say, at Jimmy’s, in Sausalito?”

“That isn’t necessary, Mr. Hill, really,” Kate said.

“It’s ‘Harry,’ please? And it is necessary. I’m making amends, right?”

Kate had to smile. Maybe Mr. Harrison Hill’s flirtatious instincts weren’t so lame after all.

“Very well, Mister— Sorry, Harry.”

“Fine. Jeannie will call you mid-week to confirm. Now, may I ask a—forgive me—rather intimate question, Kate?”

Kate suddenly felt warmer. “Yes, of course. What?”

“You’re a size four, petite, yes?”

Kate swallowed. “Umm, yes,” she managed to say.

“And a shoe size of six?”

“Six to six and a half, but really—”

“Jeannie will have them send both sizes.”

“I’m sorry Mr. H—”

“I’m visualizing you at my favorite corner table at Jimmy’s, framed by the view across the bay to the city, and you need to be in something elegant, maybe forest green to match your eyes, something short and swishy and springtime sassy.”

Kate laughed. “Harry, you’re sweet, but this is really not necessary.”

“Indulge me, Kate. I messed up your schedule. Bribing you with gifts is the least I can do. And besides, there’s no harm in looking perfect for the client, is there?” As Kate hung up, Parsons came into his office. “Well? Do we have a fish?”

“Yes, Ralph. But the hook’s not set, yet. I’ll do that next Monday when I show him the house, all fresh and clean.”

“The twenty-ninth? Can’t he come out tomorrow or Friday?”

“No, and we don’t want him to, Daddy. I saw him, and you can be sure he works out. By Sunday Andreas will have all the new equipment installed in the basement workout room and sauna. And Deirdre will be there, too, of course.”

“Ahh, so that’s your game, little witch.”

Not all of it, Kate thought, but she decided not to tell Ralph about the new outfits or the dressy lunch date with Hill.

Parsons reminded her of the realtors banquet the following evening. “I’ll pick you up at seven thirty,” he said.

“Not necessary, darling. My date will take me.”

Ralph looked up. “Date?”

“Yes, I invited Andreas. He’s wrapped up his Masters and needs to start meeting potential clients.”

Parsons was taken aback. “I told them to put him at our table. Is there a problem?” Kate asked.

“No, no, of course not. I just hadn’t ever thought of him that way.”

“Well, it’s time you did. He’s a licensed landscape architect now, as well as a rising outdoor installations sculptor. We need to introduce him to the key people in the business.”

“I guess so,” Ralph agreed. Kate grinned.

“Don’t worry, dear. As good as he looks bare-chested, he looks even better in a tux. The ladies will be all over themselves to meet him, you’ll see.”

Back at her desk, Kate brought up the banquet website to check the guest list. As she’d expected, she saw that Orson Mills would be attending. Good! Let him see the competition!

But an hour later, when Mills called her, her confidence teetered. “Yes? What is it Orson?”

“The banquet. I see you’re going. I wanted to ask you to go with me. I’m getting an award. Would love to have you with me when they call my name.”

Kate paused, not so much for effect but from confusion. She’d welcomed the opportunity to see him at the dinner, with Andreas and Ralph on either arm. But here, alone on the phone, she was isolated and momentarily nonplussed.

“Orson, thank you, but you have to know I’d rather go as a corpse than as your arm candy. I thought I made it clear after the last date we had. And I do mean last.”

“Babygirl, I haven’t bugged you since that night because I know you’re upset.”

“And I still am.”

“Understood. But we’re in the same business, Katy. Sooner or later we need to bury the hatchet and try and get on with each other. It’ll help you move ahead.”

“Only if I can bury that hatchet in yours, Orson. Forget it. We’re done.”

He didn’t respond, at least, not directly. “Are you planning to wear that bracelet I gave you?”

“Sorry? That wasn’t a gift, Major. That was, how can I put this so you can understand clearly? That was a payment, you said, for all the times you’ve used my mouth and made me beg you to chain me and hurt me.” He went silent. “But thank you for reminding me. I’d intended to melt it down for the gold, but my jeweler said it was too impure to be worth much. Still, it is very impressive, all those teeny-tiny gold links in the mesh. So suggestive. But of course, I couldn’t wear it to a major industry function. I wouldn’t want to be seen by some other woman you ‘gave’ it to before me.”

“Kate, that’s not fair.”

“It wasn’t meant to be. Good day, Orson. See you tomorrow night.”