Chapter Twenty
almost stood up in the limousine, fumbling to pull my phone from my back pocket. My head bumped the ceiling and pushed a fuzzy wave across my hair. I swore out loud while I smoothed my hair back in place. The driver glanced back in concern as he had a dozen times during our short trip. I couldn't sit still, but I forced myself back in my seat.
Deep breathing didn't help.
I looked down at my phone and realized my hands were sweaty. My phone clattered to the floor of the limousine, and the driver looked back again, his forehead furrowed between the eyes. I couldn't blame him. It was the weekend and we were heading to a retirement party. For all he knew, I was in for a long night of flowing champagne, expensive entertainment, and crowds of people in their best dress.
My tuxedo felt too tight, and I tugged at the collar. "Could you turn the air up?" I asked the worried driver.
A blast of cool air hit me just as my phone rang. I saw it was my older brother, Evan, and I left the phone on the floor, glaring at it. I couldn't even handle a short car ride; how was I supposed to put up with my brother?
The screen on my phone went dark, and I tried to breathe some relief. It lasted eight seconds before my phone blared again, and I saw it was my father calling this time.
I scrambled to pick up the phone and retain a little dignity for the driver's sake. "Yes?" I answered.
"Is that any way to answer your phone?" my father asked.
"It could have been worse," I told him.
"Really, Rainer, I had hoped that by now you would know the Maxwell name is something more than the occasional portrayal. This is your life, our legacy—"
I cut my father off there. "This is my life, and I think I've done a damn good job so far."
My father sucked a breath of air through his teeth. "I don't know why you insist on being so difficult."
"Difficult? How about I've done everything you ever asked. The Maxwell imperative has been answered, unless you don't think my billion-dollar bottom line is good enough." I swiped sweat from my forehead and squirmed in my seat. "Listen, Father, I can't talk now."
"No, you shouldn't talk now," my father barked. "I didn't call to lecture you or any of the half dozen other things I'm sure you accuse me of. I called to give you my blessing."
I leaned back against the leather seat and thought I might be having a heart attack. "I'm sorry, your blessing?"
My father gave a low laugh. "Do you really think I don't keep tabs on my children? I would have been delighted with Ellison Ramsey, but I believe that Tasha Nichols is a better match for you."
"What do you know about Tasha?" I asked.
"I know that despite her parents passing too soon, Tasha is a focused and hard-working woman. I have the utmost respect for a self-made entrepreneur, and she has certainly proven herself to be a success." My father cleared his throat, unused to giving anyone such open praise. "Perhaps she will be an inspiration to you."
"She's more than what you've read in the business section," I snapped. My father's silence slid right under my skin. "Tasha Nichols is not only successful, she's generous, and funny, and grounded, and—"
"You're in love with her." My father finished for me.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Maybe we can continue this conversation over a pint of ice cream in our pajamas sometime, but I'm on my way somewhere," I said.
"I know. Give Stan my congratulations on his retirement," my father said. "And good luck, Rainer. I hope she says yes."
My phone went dark and I stared at the reflective screen. I'd gotten a fresh haircut, shaved carefully, and put on a new tuxedo, but I still looked haggard. What if Tasha had actually gotten me out of her system? I could have read all the signs wrong.
"Call for you, sir," my driver said. He put the caller on speaker inside the limousine.
"Where are you?" Berger asked.
I glanced out the window and saw Stan's estate looming up like a glowing skyline all to itself. He lived in a mansion that would have made Gatsby jealous, and the limousine slowed to wait for the immense gates to open. "Pulling into the driveway now," I said.
"Good because your crew here are not the most subtle players. Either we pull off this plan soon or someone is going to crack. Stan is grinning like an idiot," Berger said.
"It's his retirement party, shouldn't he be that happy?" I asked.
"Not this happy. People are starting to suspect something." Berger held the phone away from him and had a muffled conversation with someone. "All right, Rainer. We're all set. Are you?"
"This is a terrible idea," I said. "We should call it off."
"Oh, no you don't. No chickening out now," Berger said.
"What if I just don't get out of the car?" I asked.
The limousine slid in front of the curved front steps. Before it could stop, the door next to me was wrenched open. Berger leaned down, phone still to his ear, and laughed at me.
"You're getting out of the car," he said.
I only got out to stand toe-to-toe with Berger. "You can't tell me you think this is going to work. This is the dumbest thing I've ever done. Why did I let you talk me into this?"
Berger shook his head. "You're the one that talked me into it. And a half dozen other people. So, there's really no way out now."
I glanced back at the open limousine door longingly. "She's going to turn me down. I'm just setting myself up to look like a fool."
"Tasha will love that," Berger said. He shoved me towards the front steps and shut the limousine door.
I watched my escape drive away and had no choice but to climb the red-carpeted front steps and enter Stan's lavish retirement party. The plan was simple: friends would funnel Tasha towards the back portico, and once there I would somehow convince her to take me seriously. If I managed that major feat, then all I had to do was put my heart and reputation on the line by kneeling down and asking her to marry me in front of a full lawn of our friends and colleagues.
No wonder I felt light-headed.
Then I reached the top step and ran full-on into Tasha. She teetered back on her high heels, and I caught her arm to steady her. The flash of heat between us was almost enough to burn off my doubts, but then I saw the cool look in Tasha's eyes.
"Hello, Rainer," she said.
"You look gorgeous," I mumbled. Her cocktail gown was an iridescent blue that shifted like the light across a pearl. Thin straps slipped across her creamy skin, leaving the smooth expanse of her shoulders bare.
It took everything I had to let her go.
Tasha stood stiffly in front of me, waiting for me to make polite conversation, but I couldn't trust myself. The whole plan felt like it was coming apart at the seams, but Otto swooped in to save me.
"Ms. Nichols, there you are. I know you're trying to enjoy yourself, but Stan asked if you would be his number two. There's a bit of a flow issue through the main hall and I was hoping you could help," Otto said.
Tasha looked relieved and let Otto guide her away. I stood watching them go, my heart flopping around like a gasping fish. Would she even want me to propose?
"You're not backing out now," Berger said. He appeared at my elbow and caught my arm in an iron grip. "I don't want to say it, but you're my inspiration. If this doesn't work, then I'm going to assume there's no hope for me."
"I thought Ellison actually invited you to sit at her table at the country club," I said.
Berger smiled but shook his head. "We're not talking about me now. What we're going to do is follow the plan."
We moved through the glamorous crowd sipping cocktails and caught sight of Tasha in the main hall. She finished solving Otto's imagined problems with her usual efficiency and was about to veer off course when Alan Reynolds intercepted her.
The recreation director greeted her with a fatherly hug. His huge grin was not out of character, but Tasha seemed suspicious anyway. When he started guiding her through the main hall to the ballroom, I thought she might stop and confront him.
"I think I went about this all wrong," I told Berger. "She's going to think I manipulated her."
"Relax," Berger said as he bopped from foot to foot.
"Yeah, because you look so calm," I said.
Berger laughed. "Well, my part is coming up next. You ready? Can I leave you or are you going to try to run back out the front door?"
I watched Tasha smile and promenade with Reynolds. It didn't matter if I made a mess of things; Tasha was worth it. And I promised myself that if she said no, I would spend the rest of my life trying to figure out how to change her mind.
"I'm up," Berger said. He whacked me on the back and disappeared into the crowd.
I caught a waiter and ordered a very stiff drink. Then I slipped farther through the crowd so I could watch which way Tasha went.
Alan Reynolds gave her a tight hug that left her bemused, but before she could think through his obvious excitement, Berger swept in front of her. The first thing out of his mouth made her laugh despite herself. From there, it was a series of exasperated smiles and eye rolls. He started pulling her towards the high French doors at the back of the ballroom, and I knew it was time for me to take my place.
"All ready, sir?"
"Topher, Jesus," I cried, startling the party-goers around me. "You scared the hell out of me."
Topher grinned. "I'm not sure I'm the reason you're so jumpy, but I apologize. I'm just so excited."
"I'm not jumpy," I said with no real conviction.
Topher dug in his pockets and produced a small, black velvet box. "The jeweler assures me the size will work. It's an absolutely stunning ring, Rainer."
I snatched the box out of his hands and stuffed it in my pocket. The few party-goers crushed closest to us had started to eavesdrop with great interest. "Can we just get on with the plan? If it's going to fail, I'd rather it was before all the alcohol is gone."
Topher waited for me to slam my drink and then lead the way through a series of side-rooms. We stopped at the door to the portico, and Topher delighted in peeking out like we were in a spy movie.
"Does she look suspicious?" I asked.
"Um, no, everything's fine," Topher lied.
I flung open the door and walked onto the portico to see for myself. Tasha was fending off Berger and looking worried. She kept glancing around her as if someone was going to prank her from behind. I watched, frozen, as she skirted past Berger and almost made it back inside the mansion.
Stan caught her at the French doors and turned her around. He kept an arm tight around her shoulders as they strolled back into place.
"See? Everything's fine." Topher gave a sigh of relief.
I tried to catch my breath. It was now or never.
#
thought I could handle the party without any problems, but a few minutes in the door and I was already panicking. Running into Rainer on the front steps had felt like the keys turning in the ignition of a car I wasn't driving. My heart raced along, my eyes sweeping the crowd to see him, and I couldn't believe I was so quickly out of control.
It wasn't as if I hadn't seen Rainer in the last few weeks. He seemed to pop up everywhere, and I had gotten used to the sudden moments we shared together.
Once I caught sight of his fancy sports car at the little hotel in my home town. I could have passed without seeing him, but I peeked in the windows and saw him sitting alone at a table. He claimed his work friend had just left. Two days later, he happened to be grabbing lunch at the same restaurant as me. When my lunch meeting fell through, we had a long meal together.
In fact, I hadn't gone more than four days without seeing him, so I couldn't understand why tonight felt so different. I tried to tell myself it was because we were all dressed up. Rainer looked like a heartthrob straight off the movie screen in his black tuxedo. His hair was mussed, but all it did was give him a human appeal. It made me want to tangle my hands in it as we kissed. . .
I jolted myself out of the daydream and tried to concentrate on what Berger was saying.
It didn't really seem to matter if I was listening as Berger was talking at high speed. His oddly excited behavior made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. What was I missing?
I couldn't help but think this was some sort of hazing opportunity. I was completely exposed on the back portico. The luxurious green lawn swept up and away from the portico like a wide amphitheater, and I felt like I was on view. As Berger continued to chatter, I definitely got the idea he was going to prank me. It would be just like Stan to have to pull one more thing over on his protege before he retired for good.
"Berger, I'm sorry, but I'm going to head back inside and make sure Stan doesn't need my help," I said.
He tried to block my way, but the look I gave him made him stand down. I almost made it through the French doors before Stan himself caught me and steered me back outside.
"Isn't it a beautiful night?" Stan asked.
"Are you drunk?"
Stan chuckled and threw an arm around my shoulders. "Not yet, my dear, but it feels like a good night to celebrate, doesn't it?"
I tried to shrug his arm off. "Why are you so cheerful? Shouldn't you be complaining about the buzzards circling the dead body of your career?"
"No, I'm glad to be giving it up. It's all a game for the young, you allospecific. Now that your career is on a high trajectory, I can sit back and enjoy the simple things," Stan said.
I gestured to the lavish silk banners and delicate crystal lanterns that decorated the immense facade of his mansion. "The simple things? Like what?"
"How about young love?" Stan asked.
I stopped short and rooted my high heels to the ground. "Now I know something is wrong, Stan. Tell me what's going on. Are you dying?"
Stan hooted with laughter. "No! I might be old, but at least I'm young at heart. You, on the other hand, need to let a little more love in your life."
"Oh, God, not more dating advice. Please, Stan, can we just enjoy your retirement party?" I shivered, still convinced my colleagues were about to haze me.
Then I saw Rainer, and it was the rest of the party that turned hazy. It wasn't the elegant and sexy cut of his tuxedo, or the way his dark hair shone under the lanterns. It was his electric blue eyes as they locked onto me. In that one glance, I saw worry, hope, and something that lit a fire deep in my belly.
Or at least I thought I did. It had been weeks since Rainer even mentioned our private interlude on Berger's yacht. I wondered if his passion for me had finally waned, and I couldn't blame him. I had done everything I could to bury it, hide it away, and now I was afraid it would light me up like a bonfire.
I wanted Rainer. More than that, the few weeks of seeing him here and there had cemented in my mind how much I loved having him around. I loved him, and I couldn't imagine he would return my feelings.
I wondered only briefly how Rainer had gotten to the back portico from the front steps without me seeing him pass by. Then I saw Otto gently shooing party-goers off the portico and onto the lawn. The crowd thinned between Rainer and I. Finally, Stan gave me a squeeze and then stepped back.
"Is this a prank?" I asked Rainer.
He blew out a tense breath and tried to smile. "No," he said. "This is a proposal."
Rainer dropped to one knee, and with the whole lavish party, full of our friends and colleagues, as a backdrop, he asked me to marry him.
"And all I ask is that you come home to me," Rainer said. "After you work, after you accomplish everything you want, I'll be there for you, if you let me."