Can't Buy Me Love Page 9

  “Oh, yes.” Maddie nodded, finally catching on to Paige’s not-so-subtle hints.

  “We just had lunch together,” Paige interjected before Maddie could expose them both. “Luckily, Madeline had a design already in mind for you.”

  “Really?”

  And luckily for Paige, Cherry wasn’t paying much attention to the play that was occurring between her and Maddie, instead she was concentrating on the intricate stitching of the dress. “Not this dress?” She looked at Maddie, delight creeping into her tone.

  Paige nodded and elbowed Maddie in the ribs. Maddie nodded on cue.

  “It’s so beautiful.” Cherry clutched the dress to her as if one of them might change their mind and take it from her. “May I try it on?”

  “By all means. I’ll...er, I mean Madeline, will need to check the hem.”

  Gleeful lights filled Cherry’s green eyes. “Wonderful.”

  Paige took Maddie by the arm and hustled her toward the door. “Go ahead and slip into the dress. We’ll just be right out here until you’re ready.”

  “This is so much fun.” Cherry reached for the zipper of her skirt.

  “So much fun,” Maddie echoed as the door to the parlor closed and stopped her words from traveling back to Cherry. “I don’t know anything about hems.”

  “Leave everything to me. But remember, you’re supposed to be reclusive. Tone it down and play along.”

  Maddie did more than play along. When the pair re-entered the parlor, Maddie pulled off the role of Temperamental Designer with more aplomb than most actresses achieve in a lifetime.

  “How much?” Cherry turned her ecstatic gaze to Maddie.

  Maddie tossed her mane of brilliant red hair over one shoulder, then placed her hand on her chin very thoughtfully. “Weeellll...” She deliberately elongated the word. “Such a dress is not easy to come by and, weeellll...Since you are a friend of my dear Paige...For you, three thousand.”

  “Three thousand?” Both Paige and Cherry spoke at the same time, but their tones were anything but identical. Paige was stunned. Three thousand dollars for one dress? Who did Maddie think she was pretending to be, Diane von Furstenberg?

  Cherry was in her own state of denial. “I can’t pay you three thousand dollars for this dress.”

  “You’re right, of course.” Paige stepped in front of Maddie who stood arms akimbo like a modern day queen before her lessers. “It’s worth three—”

  “You’re right,” Cherry interrupted before Paige could finish and out right tell them that the dress was only worth about three hundred dollars. “It’s worth three times that.”

  “I agree.” Maddie nodded her head regally, then shot Paige a look that clearly said, Shut up and let me handle this. “But I will not hear of taking a penny more for it. Three thousand is my last offer.”

  Cherry had already reached for her check book. “It’s a steal, of course. I’d be a fool not to accept it. Thank you so much, Madeline.”

  Paige watched in utter disbelief as Cherry wrote out the check and handed it to Maddie. She even smiled and kissed the air next to each of their cheeks before she bundled up her new purchase and left.

  She looked dumfounded as Maddie handed her the check for inspection. What was she going to tell Blake?

  “Not bad for an afternoon’s work.”

  “Do you really think so, Maddie?” Paige chewed on her bottom lip.

  “I know so.”

  “I still can’t believe you got her to pay three thousand dollars for that dress.”

  “That’s at least what she would have spent on a designer dress at where-ever-it-is the other half shops.”

  “Yes,” Paige agreed. “But that’s not the point. It was my dress.”

  “And it was one of a kind.”

  Paige pulled her friend close to her side. “And so are you.”

  ****

  “Where are you going? Dinner’s almost ready.”

  Blake wanted to laugh at the stiffening of his brother’s shoulders, as he tried to escape yet another one of Paige’s bizarre entrees.

  Devin turned around just inches from the front door and gave Paige his best apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I have a date tonight.”

  “Oh. Well, have fun.”

  Devin looked to Blake, a conspirator’s glance that invited him along, though warned him not to blow his cover.

  Blake could only shake his head. As much as he would rather dine out with Devin, the need to protect Paige’s feelings was even stronger. Even if the actual meal itself was not fully appreciated, Paige took time out of her day to prepare him something to eat. He liked that. In spite of himself, he liked it. No woman—other than those hired to—had ever cooked for him.

  He watched with a mixture of envy and pity as Devin opened the front door. Blake supposed no woman had ever cooked for his brother either.

  And there was another reason to stay home with Paige. He still hadn’t found the opportunity to ask her about the dress she had worn to the opera benefit. She’d confessed that she had made the dress. But surely she didn’t mean that she had made it. But he had enough to contend with these days. There was a rumor going around that Caldwell had a talented new designer on board. A rumor he would have gladly started for himself if it had been true.

  “Oh, excuse me.” A short man with thick, tinted glasses and a dark blue courier’s uniform stood just on the other side of the threshold. His hand was raised and ready to knock. He squinted at Devin. “Mr. Caldwell? Mr. Blake Caldwell?”

  Devin pointed to Blake. “There’s your man.” Then with a small salute, he dashed to his waiting car.

  Blake took a step forward so the deliverer wouldn’t have so far to squint.

  “Mr. Caldwell? Sign here, please.” He held out his electronic clip board and waited for Blake to sign on the tiny screen. He squinted at the signature, then relinquished the flat cardboard envelope.

  “Were you expecting something?” Blake shut the door, then looked from the packing slip to his wife. “It’s addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Blake Caldwell. I wonder what it could be.”

  “Well, open it.”

  Blake pulled the tab across the top of the package as Paige drew closer to him. Close enough that he inhaled her special scent. Close enough that he could feel the satin of her skin without even touching her. Close enough that she could look on as he withdrew the letter from the envelope and opened it with his suddenly unsteady hands.

  Blake,

  I must say that I am very proud of the decision you have made. I knew you were up to the challenge. And that’s what marriage is: a challenge. Your mother and father were both fools who considered it a duty rather than a privilege to have a mate. I hope the next year will at least wipe away some of your bitter memories and show you that life and matrimony have good to offer. It’s not going to be easy, but I hope that’s something I’ve taught you. The things worth having in life don’t come free and are never easy.

  As to your wife; my only regret is that I could never meet you. I know I would have liked you; for you, my dear, are a brave girl. And bravery is not without its rewards.

  I have come to the decision that in the event of accident or death during this marriage, all assets, including the family home and Caldwell Clothing Company, will, according to the inheritance laws, become the property of the surviving spouse. In the event of irreconcilable differences that result in a divorce before the established year has passed, the assets will be split between the spouses in accordance to community property laws. I have discussed this decision with my attorney and the provision of this codicil overrides any terms of the prenuptial agreement I assume you have made.

  It takes a strong woman to tame a stubborn man. And a smart man to admit when he’s wrong. May you realize both.

  My best for the year and the years thereafter,

  Aunt Virginia.

  “Damn her.” Blake crumpled the letter into a tight fist, somehow resisting the urge to hurl it across the foyer. “I
suppose this is what she meant by stipulations.”

  “What does it mean?”

  He laughed and the harsh sound echoed bitterly. “She’s a master puppeteer. A fiddler, if you will. Calling all the shots.”

  “Blake, you’re mixing metaphors and really not making much sense.”

  “I’ll tell you what it means. It means she manipulated me so expertly that she knew I would marry outside my social circle. Hell, she knew I would marry. And she made sure that I would not screw this up. The whole of my inheritance depends on it.”

  “The whole? That’s millions of dollars. We agreed upon—”

  Blake snorted. “Our agreement doesn’t matter. According to this, if we divorce before our contracted year is over, you’ll receive half of everything.”

  “Half?”

  “Half.”

  “I don’t want it.” Her voice was quiet but firm. “Talk to Noah. Or Masters or whomever you must, but I don’t want this.”

  Oh, the irony of it all. She was willing to settle for a measly two million when she could have a great deal more, and he was not willing to settle for less than all of his inheritance. He had worked so hard for it. He deserved it.

  Blake almost laughed. Almost.

  “Oh but, Paige, that’s not even the best part. If I die, you’ll inherit it all.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Have you heard from Cherry yet?” Maddie asked Paige as they sat in the room pretentiously referred to as the parlor.

  The state dinner had been held the night before, and Paige wasn’t sure which one of them was more excited over the prospect of the dress’s success, her or Maddie.

  “No.” Paige tried to keep the disappointment from her voice. “I really didn’t expect her to call. It’s not like we’re friends or anything. I just helped her find a dress, that’s all.”

  “That’s all?” Maddie rose to her feet. “That was the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen. That she’s ever seen.”

  She shrugged. She wasn’t sure why it was so important to her that Cherry be happy with the dress. Paige had never been one for fashions and the latest trends. She’d always been more concerned with clean drinking water and safe roads and huts. But if she were being honest—and she never would admit it out loud—there was a part of her that was jealous of Lydia, who flitted about concerned with hair care products and whether or not something made her hips look big, instead of taking the entire weight of an endangered African tribe on her shoulders and worrying about them incessantly. So all Paige could do was pretend that she didn’t care one way or the other about the dress or anything else that seemed frivolous.

  “Have you ever considered staying in America?”

  Paige snapped to attention, “What?”

  “Just hear me out. What if you stayed here and used the money to start your own fashion line?”

  Paige shook her head. “No way.”

  “At least think about it.”

  “I couldn’t.” Paige sighed. “Aside from the fact that I would not be able to spend that money on anything other than the Zumbais, do you have any idea how hard it is to leg up in the design world?”

  “Seems to me you already have all you need.”

  “That dress was beautiful but—you’re not talking about talent are you?”

  Maddie shook her head.

  “There is no way I would use the Caldwell name for that.”

  “You are being way too noble about this.”

  “I may be, but I’m not going to let this experience change who I am.”

  “I never thought this marriage was a good idea.” Maddie sat, while Paige tried to ignore those all-seeing green eyes. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

  “No.”

  “You’re falling fast. I told you this would happen.” She shook her head, her bright red hair shimmering.

  “I simply admire him.” Paige wondered who she was really trying to convince. She didn’t have a lot of time to consider it before Cherry Holiday swept into the room with a dramatic flourish of her arm. “You’ll have to excuse me for dropping by unannounced—again—but I was just in the neighborhood and couldn’t wait to tell you the wonderful news. Oh, Madeline! I’m so glad you’re here. I looked fabulous in that dress. When I can I have another?”

  ****

  Paige was certain that the secretary who sat behind the desk guarding Blake’s office was hired for her typing skills. The woman was sturdy, slightly overweight, and looked somewhat like a bulldog strategically placed to defend both the office and the man who occupied it.

  The secretary looked up as Paige entered the outer office. “May I help—Mrs. Caldwell. How good it is to finally meet you. Have a seat. I’ll ring Blake.”

  She punched a button on the intercom phone, but her words were soft, and Paige couldn’t hear what she said.

  Paige sat in the proffered chair and glanced around the tastefully decorated office. The pearl gray and deep navy blue color scheme was just soft enough to make her relax, while the chairs were just hard enough to keep her on edge. She expected no less from Blake’s office. It had been purposefully designed so that people without an appointment—people like her—would know they were expected to wait. She was certain as Blake’s wife, she would have a shorter wait than most, though she would have preferred more time to think of exactly what to say to him. Blake, I’m falling hopelessly in love with you and by the way, on the sly I’ve been designing dresses for your friends just didn’t sound appropriate.

  She shifted uncomfortably in her hard backed chair, as the office door opened. Blake stepped out looking more handsome than usual even with the dark frown of concentration that marred his brow.

  “Darling,” he greeted with a dutiful smile. “I didn’t expect to see you today. What’s the occasion?” He helped her to her feet and bent to kiss her cheek.

  Although Paige knew the caress was for the secretary’s watchful eyes, she still felt the brush of his lips clear down to her toes. Somehow, despite the tingling of her nerves and the feeling of his lips on her skin—regardless of how chaste—she managed to smile.

  “Oh, the usual.” She fluttered one hand in the air and tried to sound like a millionaire’s wife. “Bruno needed to go to the groomer, and I had to take my car to the shop and have the brakes repaired. I thought that since I was in town, I would stop by and see if you had time for lunch.” That’s the way to do it. Stall for time.

  “Isn’t that sweet,” the secretary said. “Blake, you have one more appointment and then you’re free until one-thirty.”

  Blake looked at his watch then back to Paige. As usual he didn’t meet her eyes. “Give me half an hour, and we’ll go.”

  Paige smiled, thankful for the reprieve. “That’ll be fine.”

  “Take a look around. I’ll catch up with you when I’m free.” He bent his head again and this time his lips met hers. The effect was rattling, but all too soon his touch was gone.

  With her knees knocking together, Paige watched Blake re-enter his office, then she escaped into the corridor.

  She needed time. Time to think about what she was going to say to him. Time to sort through her feelings. Time to re-learn how to breathe.

  She opened the first door she came to and entered.

  The large room was partitioned into several open cubicles. Easels, drafting boards, and pencils reigned. The design offices.

  Paige forgot she was supposed to be composing the words to tell Blake the truth and simply explored. There were no prison guard types carrying whips and color charts, glaring over the shoulder of any of the designers. The atmosphere was free and easy and...creative.

  Each designer had been assigned his or her own work space and had been allowed to create a personal ambiance in their own semi-private cubicle. Some had plants. Others had stuffed animals, model ships, even pictures of loved ones.

  All in all it looked like a relaxed place to work, but Paige couldn’t imagine sitting there day after day staring at
the three walls of a cubicle and trying to grasp design ideas from thin air. The thought seemed even more torturous than the temp work she had been doing before marrying Blake. No…as much as it seemed like designing dresses would be the dream job of a lifetime, she knew in her heart of hearts that Africa was where she really needed to be.

  ****

  Blake came out of the conference room on the first floor of the office building with the young man he had just interviewed. Frustration weighed heavily on his shoulders like the weight of the world upon Atlas. His time to find that brilliant, elusive designer Caldwell so desperately needed was slipping away at a terrible speed.

  “When can I expect to hear from you?”

  “I’ll be in touch.” Blake hoped the cliché was enough to deter the man’s ego.

  “Super. I’m really going to enjoy working here, Mr. Caldwell.” He enthusiastically pumped Blake’s hand. “Quite a place you’ve got here.”

  “Yes, it is.” Blake reclaimed his hand, then herded the young designer to the main exit.

  Just a few more minutes and he could escape for lunch. With his wife. He never thought he would relish the idea of escaping or having a wife to escape with, but he did. And it had nothing to do with the fact that whatever he was served would be normal and have meat in it.

  “Thank you again,” the applicant gushed.

  Don’t call us, we’ll call you. “We’ll be in touch when we make our decision.” Damn but he had more important things to do other than interview candidates. Maybe that’s something he’d give to Devin. When the younger Caldwell set his mind to something he was terrifically successful. Now if Blake could get him to set his mind to the survival of Caldwell Clothing then they’d both be set.

  Blake watched the cocky designer pass through the double doors of the exit and turned back to the reception desk. “Beverly, could you page my wife please?”

  “Right away, Mr. Caldwell.”

  Blake nodded, then waited patiently for Paige. Even if he said so himself, the Caldwell office building was quite a place. A wide, though gently curved staircase led to the upper floor and gave the false impression of a mansion rather than an office building. To further the deception, the reception area was lit with a chandelier that hung from the cathedral ceiling and the gray-white marble floor beneath his feet was inlaid with black diamond shapes that patterned a spindly star with a circle at its enter. It was all Virginia Caldwell design and bore the stamp of her stern elegance.