CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Candace watched over Mandy’s shoulder. “You sure you can’t toss some smoke or smog into that?”
“I already explained that this type of refinery runs clean. There won’t be any smoke.” It had taken more time than she intended to get the refinery to completion. Part of her problem was a lack of stock photography, so she’d made most of the pipes from scratch. Consistent lighting still plagued her.
“It sure is hideous.”
Mandy grinned. “Anyone who sees this photo would think so. I added a few extra pipes. If you look carefully, the pipes spell out ugly. I wanted to try that whole ’70s subliminal thing.”
“That’s it.” Candace bounced up and down, causing her periwinkle curls to dance. “We can use this for a poster!”
“I’m not sure about that.” Mandy bit her lip. “I think that would move it to the published category, and all my works are to be unpublished so they can go up for sale to benefit the college.”
“Can you come up with another idea? Or another version of the refinery?”
“I’m running out of time and ideas. I still can’t believe Daniel would sell the mansion for this.” Even if he does hate it.
“Have you talked to him? Colin must have sent ten texts asking you to. He is having a tough time not giving Daniel your number.”
Mandy didn’t mention the three calls that had gone to voicemail. The one voice message she started to leave was only half his name. “You saw those photos yesterday of him kissing Miss Moneybags after the verdict. He doesn’t need the girl next door.” I need to stay out of his life.
Candace huffed. “Remember? Not everything in the tabloids is true. If it were, Daniel would be out there with an $80k camera shooting it up with the best of them.”
“Let it go. On the bright side, I am pretty much yesterday’s news. Colin said there hasn’t been a threat to me in over twenty-four hours.”
“When did you talk to Colin? I have tried to reach him all evening to verify the story.”
Mandy double-checked the clock on her computer screen. “He texted before lunch. By the way, I told Colin to give Daniel my number. If Daniel is desperate to talk to me, he has a strange way of not calling.”
Candace tipped her head. “It has only been a few hours. Maybe he is busy.”
“Busy dating every socialite in Manhattan. Wednesday night was a date for a benefit, and he has probably left for tonight’s outing with the rich and spoiled.”
“Are you following those fangirl sites?”
“Not today.” Mandy hung her head. “He kisses them, too.”
“Let me see.” Candace scooted Mandy out of the way and pulled up the browser. “That is a side-hug cheek kiss. It doesn’t count at all!”
“If your lawyer friend gave you one of those, you would count it.”
“That is only because I don’t think he has ever even kissed before. He can barely touch my hand without blushing. And he has yet to ask about my hair. I went through three different wigs yesterday.”
Mandy laughed. “Totally normal to have your girlfriend go to the bathroom and come back with a new do. Is he your date tonight?”
“No, I told you Friday night is girls’ night. Just us and a few of our friends. Pizza, ice cream, and every Meg Ryan movie ever made.”
“Mr. Alexander isn’t going to like that. Too many people in the house and pizza delivery coming.”
Candace winked. “Not one bit.”
Daniel cringed as he opened the door. The designer had removed the hideous pink, orange, purple, and yellow furniture, including the flowery rug, and gone masculine. More like a hunting lodge. The taxidermy bear standing in the corner would give someone nightmares. Him.
He texted the designer. Do you have any rental furniture that is more neutral and somewhat comfortable?
I’ll see.
At this point Ikea would be an improvement.
Oh, I can do that only better.
He checked the calendar on his phone. April Fools’ Day had ended four days ago. Why did he feel he was stuck in it?
I realize it’s Saturday. But I would like something more relaxing for the weekend.
No problem, Mr. C. I’ll be over in an hour.
I’ll have the doorman let you in. Meeting the person who kept turning his apartment into a circus was not a good idea. He needed a shower and to get out of here before his next date. He was going to fire Morgan and the legal team. Being seen with six different girls in one weekend was not easy. And not as fun as it should be. But then, they were all playing a part as per their contracts.
Leopard skin. She had replaced his bedspread with a leopard skin.
He wished he had a New York version of Terrance who would call up Bloomingdale’s and order him a set of six hundred-count Egyptian cotton sheets, a nice navy comforter, and a recliner. That was all he needed. That and towels that were not zebra striped. How was a man supposed to dry himself off with zebra towels?
While he waited for the car service to arrive, a text came from Colin—the first in several days. Colin didn’t enjoy it when his partnership duties forced him to travel, even for computer-related business.
Meeting with the Tokyo group going well. Meant to text this earlier. M. 574-555-1607. Don’t blow it.
The car arrived with Dublin LeDuc ensconced inside. Daniel smelled her overpowering perfume before he saw her. He’d have to wait to call Amanda. He hoped the new superhero movie was good. It had better be to make up for dealing with red-carpet paparazzi. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember what role Dublin had played. He should have reviewed his memos.
The clock changed from 11:59 p.m. to 12:00 a.m. Monday.
She glanced at the silent phone. Not even a text. She’d left a short voicemail asking him to call, rerecording it twice. He’d gone out with six different women this weekend and not five seconds to text her. Perhaps she should have done a Summerset and slapped him after the kiss at the pond. Maybe her heart would hurt less.
At the time, she’d thought the kiss last Saturday had meant something. He’d claimed he wasn’t a player. But she had checked this week’s date photos using an analysis program. Those photos were not manipulated. More than half of the women had kissed him in public. She didn’t even want to think about what might be happening in private. What kind of fences did they have?
She analyzed the quote in the laundry room another way. “Good fences make good neighbors but lousy lovers.” No matter how she twisted it, the fence between them was more than chain link. If it was the old pole fence, at least they could climb through it.
Never would she trust her heart again. Danny had grown up to be a spoiled, conceited, lying, handsome (no, scratch that) . . . She tried to come up with another adjective, but only things like funny, caring, and tender came to mind.
She was yesterday’s news. No, yesterday’s news was Daniel’s countless dates, ending with some awards thing for some type of music, a perky blonde on his arm, her lips mashing his, her jewel-encrusted dress worth more than a camera.
Six hours ago, Mr. Alexander had told her he would not be shadowing her anymore and had given her a panic button, telling her to use it even if only for the coach. Then he shook her hand and left.
She was not going to cry. Anymore.
She would not dream of DC.
And the reason she wasn’t sleeping? Her foot hurt. It had nothing to do with the kiss that kept replaying in her mind as often as those she’d seen on the entertainment channels. Why was she defending him?
The last thing she thought of as she wiped her nonexistent tears on her pillow was that Candace’s rally started at three. School got out at 3:20. Hank’s great-grandchildren would not lose his home if she could help it. She owed Daniel nothing.