Donna Hill - Deception

Where was Mark? she wondered, her agitation building. He should have been here an hour ago. She crossed the room in long-legged strides and pressed the intercom.

“Andrea?”

“Yes, Ms. Powers?”

“Has Mark arrived yet?”

“He just walked in.”

“As soon as he’s ready, would the two of you come in? You’ll need to bring your Dictaphone, Andrea. I want every word recorded. And buzz Stacy also.”

“Yes, Ms. Powers.”

Terri returned to her desk just as her private line rang. “Terri Powers,” she answered.

“Ms. Powers, this is Mr. McPhearson’s secretary.”

“Oh, yes. I wasn’t expecting a call. Is there a delay in the meeting time?” She immediately flipped open her plan book, hugging the phone between her shoulder and her ear, pen poised and waiting.

“Uh, Ms. Powers—Mr. McPhearson wants me to inform you that he’s changed his mind about the campaign.”

“What?” She dropped the pen between the ivory pages. “I don’t understand. Everything was set.”

“That’s all the information I have, Ms. Powers.”

“Let me speak with Mr. McPhearson.” Her pulse pounded in her ears.

“He’s in a meeting.”

Terri would have laughed at the practiced line if she wasn’t so furious. “Would you have him call me as soon as he’s through?”

“He’s leaving directly for the airport when the meeting concludes.”

“I see.” Terri swallowed, her back stiffening. “Thank you.”

Blindly she hung up the phone, a sinking feeling taking over. This deal was critical. She couldn’t believe that McPhearson would pull out, just like that. There had to be some explanation, and she was damn sure going to find out what it was.

She paced the floor, her teeth biting her bottom lip, trying to contemplate a course of action.

There was a light tap at the door.

“Come in,” Terri said offhandedly.

Stacy stepped in.

“All ready for the big boys?” Stacy asked. She took a seat at the round conference table on the far side of the office.

Terri blew out an exasperated breath. “McPhearson’s secretary called.”

“About what?” Stacy took a sip of black coffee and tossed her blond hair behind her ears.

“It wasn’t what I wanted to hear. They reneged.”

“What?”

“You heard right. They pulled out,” Terri said.

“But why? They couldn’t have gotten a better deal if they’d whipped it up themselves.”

“Apparently they did.”

“I don’t believe it.” She ran a hand through her hair.

“Neither do I.”

“So now what?”

Terri raised her eyebrows. “I’ll have to think it through and explore some other options. We’ll really have to push for a confirmation with Viatek Studios. I want you to work on that right away.”

Stacy nodded and jotted down some hasty notes. “Does Mark know about McPhearson?”

“I haven’t seen Mark yet.”

“This was his advertising deal originally, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.” Then almost as an afterthought, she added, “And so was the account that fell through with Conners, the independent producer,” in a voice filled with awakening.

She turned to Stacy, her eyes burning with purpose. “As soon as I inform Mark that the deal has been canceled, I want you and I to go over Mark’s files with a fine-tooth comb, as he puts it. I went over the books last week, and there are things that don’t make sense. I thought it was because I was tired but now I wonder…”

Stacy nodded, her sea-green eyes reflecting Terri’s concern. “I’ll see what else I can dig up from the logs,” Stacy added just as Andrea peeked her head in the door.

“Mark is here, Ms. Powers.”

“Tell him to come in, Andrea.”

Mark strolled in moments later, his light brown eyes shifting from one woman to the other. “Why the long faces?” He walked over to the water cooler and filled a paper cup.

“McPhearson canceled the deal,” Terri stated. She watched for his reaction.

“You’re kidding? I worked weeks on that deal.” He ran his index finger around the collar of his shirt.

She registered the move. “I’m sure you did.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means we’ll have to do some rearranging of our finances.”

“Well, if you’d accept Steele’s proposal we’d—”

She cut him off. “What time is your flight to Detroit?”

“I have to be at the airport in an hour.”

Terri turned away, unable to look at him another minute. “Tell your folks I said hello. We’ll talk when you get back.”

“Fine!” Mark snatched up his notes and his briefcase and slammed out of the office.

Terri turned to Stacy. “As soon as he’s out of the building, I want you to pull his files. Everything.”

Hours later, exhausted and wanting to disbelieve what was in front of her, Terri closed the folders that Stacy had given her. The evidence was clear, and she had no alternative.

Slowly she got up from her desk, her heart heavy with regret, wondering what she could have done differently. She didn’t know. All she could do now was prepare for Mark’s return.

Stretching, her body aching with fatigue, she envisioned sinking into a steamy bubble bath, when a picture of Clint intruded on her thoughts. Her pulse raced at an alarming speed as she remembered the feel of his lips against hers… The part of her that wanted more wondered what it would be like to make love with him.

This was getting crazy, she thought, angry at herself for fantasizing about a man who definitely was not for her. She hadn’t heard from him since their dinner date, and the thought that he was playing games with her renewed her frustration and misgivings.

Gathering her purse and briefcase, she took her coat from the rack and began to leave the office just as the phone rang.

She started to let the answering service pick up the call but decided against it, thinking that it might be important.

“Terri Powers,” she answered by rote.

“Terri, it’s Clint.”

Her heart skipped a beat. Does he read my mind, or what? “Yes?”

“I haven’t been able to get you off of my mind.”

Me, either. Silence.

“How are you?”

If you only knew. “I’ve been better.”

“You don’t sound like yourself. Is something wrong?”

“I couldn’t begin to explain.” But she desperately wanted to. She wanted to feel his arms around her again, to hear his laughter, to taste his lips. But she couldn’t.

“Listen, uh, I’m really tired, Clint. You wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had.”

“Maybe you should talk about it. That helps, you know.”

“Not this time.”

He wouldn’t be dismissed. “Why don’t I meet you? We could go for dinner or something. Maybe a drive.” He drummed his fingers on the desk, waiting for her response.

“Clint, I really…”

“I’ll be downstairs in ten minutes. Wait for me, Terri.”

The next sound she heard was the dial tone.

Terri waited in quiet agitation for the elevator to reach her floor. Why was he doing this to her? A better question was, why was she doing this to herself? She knew perfectly well that Clint was not the kind of man to be taken lightly. What was more disturbing, he was the kind of man that fascinated her against her better judgment. That reality frightened her.

Finally the elevator arrived, and her heart raced as the metal box made its painstakingly slow descent.

She pulled her white cashmere coat tightly around her as a shiver jetted up her spine at the thought of seeing him. Maybe he wouldn’t be there, and she could just escape to the sanctuary of her apartment. Just like she’d been doing for months, hiding from the possibility of life as she once knew it—too frightened to take any more chances. But there was another part of her that longed to be fulfilled again, the part that hoped he’d be waiting.