Bid Me Now (6 page)

“Well, I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to help, but something came up.” She set her cup down and smiled into the distance as if recalling something pleasant. “As you know, I have business that frequently calls me away for a day or two.”

Miri did know. Usually it involved a man and a six-star hotel up the coast. “So who was the lucky man this time?” she asked with a laugh, at the same time feeling more than a little envious. Sixteen-hundred-thread-count sheets, caviar, Dom Perignon, and an attentive lover had to be better than her last two days. “Was he what you expected?”

 
“Oh, yes, he definitely met expectations,” she purred like a Siamese cat on smoked salmon. “Totally insatiable of course, the naughty boy.” She blinked and straightened. “Anyway, I still had time to make some calls about the mill.”
 

Miri couldn’t help but wonder how old Alex’s naughty boy was. If he was her usual type, anywhere between twenty-five and forty, although Miri suspected Alex went younger when it suited. “Well, anything to report?”
 

“Well, on the personal front, Nick Brannagh is thirty-one and not married. I thought you might be interested in knowing that about your hunk.”

Miri hadn’t even considered his marital status. It shouldn’t matter, of course, but somehow it did. “He’s not my…oh, whatever. So what about the sale of the mill?”
 

“Well, my business analyst obtained the names of the other bidders, and they were happy to talk. They are very concerned, of course, that the mill is to be demolished. As you know, you were the second highest bidder. The others were an engineering company, a sports and fitness chain, and a New York–based printing company. Oh, there was a local construction company who showed interest but didn’t put in an offer. Anyway, Brannagh Enterprises normally specializes in big demolition and salvage projects, but sometimes they take on small jobs. The bid was prepared and submitted by a Pete Fitzroy, one of
 
their site managers, all done through their New York office.”

“Are they likely to make a big profit?”

“George says yes, as there’s very little preparation needed for the demolition and salvage, and of course there’s the sale of the cleared land.”

 
No wonder he’d laughed at her pathetic offer. “That makes sense
now
.”

“Yes. The only unusual thing is that their bid was only two thousand above yours, and the other bidders were much lower than that. Anyway, the thing is not to give up hope, my dear. We still might be able to put in an offer after I find out more about Brannagh Enterprises. Of course, I’ll need to talk to him. And you never know, he might have said he wouldn’t sell to you, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t sell to me for the right price.”

Miri shifted in her seat. “Alex, I’m not sure you should do that.”
 

An image of Alex going a couple of rounds with Nick flashed in her mind. Heavens, what an eye-watering smackdown of wills that would be.
 

Alex patted a perfectly manicured hand against her chignon. “Well, you can think all you like, my dear. In the meantime, I intend to find out more. Besides, I do enjoy persuading a hunk!”

Miri laughed at that. “You’re incorrigible! He’s nothing like your men friends. Way too rough around the edges for you.”
 

“
Au contraire
, rough definitely works for me. Now, moving to something just as important. How’s the sculpture coming along?”

“It’s coming along…just. Installation starts first thing Monday morning.”

“Wonderful. Marcus will love it. You know of course he cares for you. He’s so disappointed that you didn’t get the mill.” Her voice dropped to an intimate coo. “As I have pointed out more than once, my darling, Dr. Carter is the most eligible bachelor in Charmford. Such a fine surgeon, just like your father. Why don’t you go to dinner with him? The man adores you.”
 

 
“I’m too busy,” Miri answered a shade too sharply. Alex knew her better than anyone when it came to her nonexistent love life, and would see right through her excuse. “Relationship phobia,” Alex called it, and Miri had to admit it was mostly true.
 

She hadn’t always felt this way. Through her teens, she’d dated plenty of boys, but being so focused on her art, it had been no-sex casual, except for her one serious love affair at eighteen. But when she’d accepted an invitation to take a year-long course at the U.K.’s most prestigious art school, their relationship had fizzled within months.
 

After the accident, she had tried again. But a three-week affair with a fellow artist, whom she’d known for years and who’d been devastated when she’d bailed on him, didn’t exactly spell success. So her life now was centered on the one thing that ensured her emotional safety. Her art. And, if nothing else, she had become expert in dealing with unwanted invitations. A gracious smile, a firm shake of the head, and her standard rejection of “much too busy” usually put them off. All to the dismay of Alex, who considered declining dinner invitations from good-looking men, especially the town’s leading surgeon, nothing short of sacrilege.
 

Miri shook her thoughts off and looked up to find Alex staring at her like she was a sixteen-year-old who needed stern guidance. “My dear, that line isn’t going to work forever.” She arched a perfect brow. “But of course, I won’t interfere.” She conceded a small smile as Miri snorted. “Well, maybe just a little. Your mother was very dear to me, so I feel a responsibility to take care of you.”

Miri didn’t much appreciate being thought of as a responsibility, but that was Alex. Whatever she might lack in tact, she more than made up for in kindness and sincerity. And she was indefatigable when it came to providing support and advice, regardless of whether it was wanted or not.
 

Miri reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “I know. You’ve been brilliant. But no matchmaking,
please
.”

“Well, I’ll try, but no promises. A man is the best stress-buster you know. If not Dr. Carter, what about your hunk? You got quite flushy when I mentioned him. Are you going to see him again?”
 

So Alex didn’t know about the dinner tonight. Miri made a split-second decision to keep it that way. “Of course not. There’s no reason to.”

“Perhaps there will be after I’ve talked to him. The town will be most upset to find out the mill is coming down. Some local pressure might change his mind.”

“I doubt it. He does this for a living. He won’t care.”

“Just leave it to me, my dear. I’ll deal with your
brute
.”

Before Miri could open her mouth to retort, Alex stood up. “Anyway, keep your chin up, my dear, and wait until you hear from me. I have to rush. Beauty calls.”
 

Miri sighed again, resigned to the steamroller that was Alex. “My chin is just fine where it is, and it won’t do any good talking to him,” she grumbled into her coffee.

But Alex wasn’t listening. Another one of her habits. The ability to ignore anything inconvenient.
 

Miri watched Alex thread an elegant path between the tables and disappear through the exit. “Beauty” frequently called Alex, although what needed to be beautified was anyone’s guess.

Well, at least she could finish her
espresso con panna
in peace. That is, if she could stop thinking about the brute.

CHAPTER FIVE

“So what do you think?”
 

She didn’t need an opinion. She just needed to be told what she already knew. That her dress was far too short for a dinner with Nick Brannagh.
 

Bree, sprawled on the living room sofa, peered over the top of her reading glasses. “Wow! I thought you’d sworn off heels.”

“Might as well live dangerously.” Miri flexed her feet in the mint-green bow pumps, a birthday gift from Alex. She wasn’t overly concerned about the heels. The Blahniks were safe enough, but her dress wasn’t. “This is too short, isn’t it?”
 

“Jesus, worry wart, it’s fine. And with those legs, you might as well show them off.”

But Miri stared down at her knees all the same. Her little black dress, with its low square neck, thin shoulder straps, and slim-cut skirt, was usually appropriate for any event after six o’clock. But tonight it felt much too short.

“I guess I’m nervous. How silly is that?”
 

“Not silly. A first date is always a big deal.”

“It’s not a date,” Miri protested, wondering why she was denying the obvious. “I’ve got to convince him not to tear down the mill, and it’s nerve-wracking.” But it wasn’t the mill that had put an edge to her mood. It was the thought of sitting opposite sexy Brannagh Enterprises for a couple of hours.
 

Bree laughed at her lie. “Not a date in that dress and heels? Gee, no kidding. Anyway, just let the conversation flow. Put him at his ease, then stick it to him about not demolishing the mill!”

That didn’t sound right to Miri. It was she who needed to be “eased.” He seemed to be permanently at ease. Miri checked her watch and readjusted the coral comb holding up her hair. “Is Abe coming over tonight, or he working late on some news story?”

“He’s making one of his pasta thingies, and I’m to have everything ready. Man, he’s good in the kitchen, and even better in the sack. You know, the other night…”

Miri clapped her palms against her ears. “Hell, Bree, not so much information,
pleeease
!”
 

Bree was right about her boyfriend being a superb cook. The other information she could do without, but presumably he measured up, if Bree’s usual contented morning-after face was any indication. Miri didn’t have contented morning-after faces. But then, she didn’t have a sex life.

“Spoilsport!” chuckled Bree, crawling upright on the sofa and poking her head between the drapes. “I thought I heard a car.”
 

“Get away from there. He’ll see you.” Damn. The last thing she needed was Nick being gawked at through the window.
 

“Well, it might be Abe. Actually, it’s the
hunk
. Nice Beemer. I’ll let him in. I’ve gotta see this guy.”

“Wait, Bree, I’ll get it.”
 

Too late. Bree was off like a Labrador after a Frisbee. Miri heard the whoosh of the front door opening.

“Hi, I’m Nick.”
 

Bree turned as Miri arrived a moment later. “
Please
let me have him?” Bree mouthed with a giggle.
 

“Hello, Nick. This is Bree, my roommate, and as you can see, she’s crazy.”
 

Nick fixed Bree with a broad grin. “Hi, Bree. Are you an artist as well?”

“Aah…no, not exactly, I’m a photographer,” Bree answered breathlessly, turning pink.
 

“Well, that must be interesting. Plenty of subjects to photograph in Charmford, I guess?”
 

“Um…yes, there’s always something to shoot.”

Miri had never seen Bree turn to goo from a man’s attention. This from a woman who could in all probability stare down Mike Tyson if called upon. But, to be fair, Nick was textbook eye candy, standing there all loose and relaxed in charcoal-gray pants with a sports jacket over a crisp white open-neck shirt.
 

Miri poked a forefinger in Bree’s back. “Don’t you have to get things ready for Abe?”

“Uh-huh. Would you like to come in, Nick?”
 

“Yeah, sure.”

Drat her roommate. Miri hadn’t planned for this. She led Nick into the living room, her back burning with the certain knowledge that he was looking at her legs.

Now what to do? Bree had annoyingly disappeared into the kitchen. Should she invite him to sit down? No, it might be better to grab her purse and pashmina and start for the door. After all, this wasn’t a date. Or even a meeting. Whatever it was, it was fast becoming awkward, although when she glanced up at Nick, he seemed right at home, his hands in his pockets, still looking at her legs.
 

While she dithered, Nick waited quietly. “You have a nice home,” he finally said, his gaze lifting to stroke her from head to foot.

Miri felt a sudden flash of heat, not sure whether to be annoyed or flattered at being so openly inspected. “Oh, yes…it’s…thanks.” That sounded dumb.

“Perhaps we should get going. The reservation is for eight-thirty.”

Miri nodded numbly, wondering how he could be more at ease in her own home than she was. “Of course.” She collected her things from the arm of the sofa and led him to the front door.
 

“’Night, Bree,” she yelled down the hall toward the kitchen.
 

“’Night. Have a good time.”

Miri doubted that would happen. The way she was feeling, the whole evening would be just short of torture.
 

Nick held open the passenger door of his car, his arm brushing hers as she slid into the seat, making her shiver at the contact. She shivered all over again when he took off his jacket and tossed it over to the back seat, and his aftershave speared her brain with all sorts of deadly sensations. At that moment she seriously wondered whether making a run for it back to the safety of her house was an option.
 

She felt his eyes on her. “You’re trembling. Are you cold?”

Miri only just bit back the bubble of laughter rising in her throat. Lordy, what would he say if she told him the truth? That he was just too much for her? “Oh, no, I’m fine. Just a little hungry, that’s all.”
 

“Good. I’ve reserved a table at Jean-Paul’s.”

“Oh, yes, I’ve heard it’s very nice.” She knew the restaurant. Only last week Marcus had suggested dinner there. Naturally she’d turned him down, using the excuse of being far too busy finishing the Egg Beater.
 

“You look beautiful.”

 
Miri clutched her pashmina as her body flashed with heat in an involuntary response to his compliment. “Thank you. You look very nice, too.”