Blue Mist of Morning (9 page)

When at last he held her slightly away from him, her eyes
fluttered open to meet the passionate glimmer in his. She blushed and
he smiled indulgently.

"You see, Anne, you do have needs, don't you?" he asked
softly, his hands moving down to span her waist. "You must have if you
could allow yourself to break that old rule about never kissing the
boss."

He was gently teasing her, but she was so disturbed by her
ardent response that she murmured defensively, "I didn't break the
rule.
You
kissed
me
."

"But you kissed back," he whispered, and before she could
reply, his mouth took hers again.

This time his kiss was electrifying, and caution and
inhibitions were overwhelmed by the need to surrender to the desires he
aroused in her. All resistance ebbed. She stretched up on tiptoe. Her
arms slipped around his neck. As the soft curves of her breasts yielded
to his muscular chest and he gathered her closer, a central throbbing
ache awakened within her, then radiated throughout her body. Her mouth
opened slightly as his lips hardened and became increasingly demanding,
parting the soft shape of hers with a taking pressure she couldn't
resist. She did kiss him back, somewhat hesitantly, and though he was
the aggressor, she was undeniably responsive. She delighted in his
strength and found a warm satisfying joy in the arms tightening around
her as if they couldn't hold her close enough. His warm minty breath
caressed her mouth, then his teeth nipped gently on the full curve of
her lower lip, sending a thrill of sensual excitement pulsating through
her. She moaned softly, but as his hands slid around to cup the sides
of her breasts, his palms pressing down evocatively into the firm,
cushiony flesh, the forbidden caress shocked her back to reality.

"Ty, no," she protested softly, then broke away from him
and hurried toward the door.

"Anne, why are you being so obstinate?" he called after
her, before she could escape. When she turned reluctantly to look back
at him, he regarded her with solemn intensity. "Couldn't you let me
help you with Sue's expenses?"

"No. You're very kind to offer, but I think it would be a
bad idea." Feeling she owed him some reasonable explanation, she
breathed a sigh. "I… want to keep our relationship strictly
professional."

"You've told me that," he persisted. "Now, tell me why."

"I, well, I made a mistake once, and that's enough. I got
a little too involved with my first employer, but he wasn't seriously
interested in me. It was a painful, embarrassing situation, so finally
I quit my job and came to work here. And I… never want to
have to disrupt my life that way again. I promised myself then, I'd
never get involved with my superiors."

"Really?" Ty countered, compressing his lips into a grim
line. "Then I suppose that means you won't be seeing Mike Bennett again
socially, will you?"

Anne simply stared at him, unable to tell him that Mike
was different. He was a friend and certainly posed no potential threat
to her happiness. But Ty did. Whenever he touched her, she felt as if
he controlled her completely. Deep inside, she was afraid he might
become too important in her life if she let him. Yet she couldn't admit
that, so she murmured instead, "Mike's not my boss, so I don't see how
any of this applies to him."

"How convenient. But I see how it applies. Technically,
Mike is your superior. He has an executive position in this company,
and I think you'd be wise to stop seeing him… if you want to
be consistent in obeying your own self-imposed rules."

"Are you forbidding me to go out with Mike?" Anne asked
heatedly, incensed once again by his autocratic tone. "Is that what
you're saying?"

"I'm not your keeper, Anne," he answered, shrugging
indifferently. "Do as you please. Just remember that hypocrisy isn't an
endearing quality."

Hypocrisy
! Drawing herself up to her
full height, Anne had to fight back the angry retort that trembled on
her lips. He dared call
her
a hypocrite! And he
was trying to engage her in a casual involvement, while at the same
time he was having an affair with Millicent Beaumont! Anne longed to
hurl that pithy reminder at him, but innate common sense told her that
would be a superb way to get herself fired. Gritting her teeth instead,
she turned on one heel and rushed out of the room without looking back.
After closing the doors behind her, she stood in her own office,
trembling and angry at herself. Every time Ty touched her, and
especially when he kissed her, she responded like an ardent little
fool, and she simply couldn't continue to react like that. She
couldn't, because if she did, intuition told her that she would live to
bitterly regret it.

Within two weeks spring had transformed Alexandria.
Scarlet tulips and yellow daffodils nodded in the gentle breezes, and
tiny, nearly transparent green leaves appeared on the trees.
Unfortunately, Anne didn't have a great deal of time to enjoy the
beauty of this new spring because she had taken a second job. Without a
car, she had no way to commute to the dress shop, so she had applied
for a job as a waitress in a restaurant within walking distance of her
apartment. Because she had been a waitress during summers while in high
school, she was able to accustom herself to the restaurant's routine
very quickly. Luckily, her fellow employees were very pleasant, so it
was a good second job. Best of all, because the Colonial was the best
restaurant in town, and, therefore, outrageously expensive, she
received generous tips. But the hours were long, and she often didn't
get home until nearly midnight. By that time, she was nearly exhausted
and usually bathed and fell into bed as quickly as she possibly could.

Working so many hours each day wasn't terrific fun, but it
was imperative that she save money to cover the higher cost of Sue's
college expenses next fall. After the first semester was paid for, she
hoped she could find some less tiring solution to her financial
problems. In the meantime, she felt she was lucky to have found a
second job that paid so well, at least in tips.

One Thursday evening she rushed home from the office to
press the simple, but rather classy, uniform she wore at the
restaurant. Black, with a straight skirt and scoop neckline, it had
white georgette sleeves and apron and complemented her fair hair and
creamy complexion. After the ironing was done, she hung the uniform on
a hanger and covered it with plastic. She glanced at the clock on the
kitchen wall. There was just enough time for her to redo her hair
before leaving for work.

Three hours later, Anne's energy was beginning to flag.
She had just finished serving a party of twelve, no easy task even when
the patrons were exceedingly nice, and these people hadn't been
exceedingly nice. They had made her job difficult from the beginning,
three of them changing their minds about what they wanted to eat just
when she had been about to bring their original orders out from the
kitchen. Then, two of the women had complained that their steaks
weren't rare enough, glaring at Anne as if she had cooked them herself.
Yet Anne had been gracious and pleasant through it all and had finally
managed to satisfy them, temporarily anyway. Pausing for a moment to
give her feet a rest in the hallway between the kitchen and the elegant
dining room, she leaned her head against the wall but straightened
immediately when the door from the dining room swung open. Pat Martin,
a young mother of two who worked at the restaurant to supplement her
husband's income, came marching down the hall, stopped before Anne and
perched her hands on her hips.

"Some people are really the limit," she proclaimed,
shaking her head. "You remember that hoity-toity senator and his wife
at table eight? Well, their check totaled eighty dollars, and they kept
me running back and forth to their table every minute they were here.
But would you believe they only left me a three-dollar tip?"

"Remember now, smile and the world smiles with you," Anne
said wryly, patting the older woman's shoulder sympathetically. "Now,
if only we could get it to work that way all the time. We smile, but
sometimes they don't smile back." Pat growled softly to ease her
frustration, as Anne smiled and stepped past her. "Well, I'd better get
back before Andre comes looking for me."

Leaving Pat in the hallway sliding her feet in and out of
her shoes, Anne stepped back into the dimly lighted dining room just in
time to catch the maitre d's eye. Andre, a tall, dignified man who was
amazingly friendly, unobstrusively held up four fingers, then two. Anne
nodded and, taking two gold-embossed menus, proceeded to table four
near the far back corner. In the most private area of the room, the
table was usually reserved for frequent patrons of the restaurant.
Looking down to be certain her little white apron was straight, Anne
approached the table. When she lifted her head, she wished she could
have sunk right through the floor. Her polite smile froze on her lips,
her cheeks felt stiff and her muscles tightened as she met TV's
startled stare. His surprise was mirrored in his eyes for only an
instant, however, before they turned an icy blue and narrowed
dangerously. Detecting the grim tightening of his jaw, she fumbled in
her pocket for her pencil, then realized he and his apparently constant
companion, Millicent Beaumont, hadn't even looked at the menus yet. She
gave the woman one, then handed Ty his warily, half expecting him to
jerk it out of her hand. But he didn't. He simply looked at her.

She gulped. "Good evening, Mr. Manning," she said, her
voice embarrassingly squeaky as she surreptitiously brushed her
suddenly damp palms over her apron. "Could I get you a drink while the
two of you are deciding?"

"What would you like, Millicent?" he asked his date
brusquely, then glanced back up at Anne after Millicent decided on an
aperitif. "And I'll have a Scotch and water."

His low tone was so cold and unfriendly that even
Millicent apparently sensed all was not right. Her curious gaze drifted
from his lean tanned face to Anne's much paler one, which she had not
even glanced at until then. A rather perverse amusement curled her
glossed lips as she recognized the other girl, and she didn't seem at
all surprised to find Anne working at yet another dull, commonplace job.

"I'll get your drinks," Anne murmured. She walked away
sedately, though she had to fight the urge to run across the dining
room to the bar. When she had told Henry the bartender what she wanted,
she stood waiting, staring off into space.

"What's the matter with you?" Pat exclaimed softly,
stepping in front of Anne. "You look like you've seen a ghost. You're
so pale."

"Not a ghost. Just my boss," Anne told her, tugging at the
wayward tendril of her hair. "And he didn't know I had a second job. I
guess I should have told him, but I didn't think he'd care much for the
idea. And, judging by the way he just looked at me, I could be in a lot
of trouble."

"So? If he says anything to you, tell him you wouldn't
have to hold down two jobs, if he'd pay you enough money," Pat advised.
"That's what I'd do."

Anne smiled wanly, unwilling to admit that Ty had offered
her a raise and she had refused it. That would be too complicated to
explain, so she said nothing. Then Henry placed the two drinks on a
tray on the bar. Squaring her shoulders resolutely, Anne picked up the
tray and walked back to Ty's table.

The evening lasted forever. Every time he spoke, Ty's
voice possessed that cold, hard edge that she knew meant he was very
displeased. She thought he and Millicent would never leave the
restaurant, yet when they did finally go, she felt worse still.
Considering the way Millicent clung to his arm and gazed adoringly up
at him, Anne could only imagine that their evening together wouldn't be
ending very soon. And she found that thought almost as distressing as
the fact that she would have to face Ty's displeasure the next morning,
which was only a few short hours away.

Anne was at her desk Friday morning when Ty strode in. His
early arrival caught her by surprise. He, too, seemed surprised to find
her there, and when he regarded her intently for several seconds, then
glanced at his wristwatch, dread dragged at her stomach.

"Why are you here already?" he asked flatly, his
expression unreadable. "You're almost an hour early."

"I've been taking the early bus in," she explained without
really meeting his narrowed gaze. "If I took the next bus, I'd get here
with only five minutes to spare, and I like to have more time than that
to prepare for the day."

"And why are you taking the bus in the first place? Didn't
you tell me you have a car?"

"Did have. I had to junk it," she answered with a resigned
shrug of her shoulders. Briefly explaining what had happened, she
finished, "The car was just too old to make a $1,500 repair bill
worthwhile."

For some odd reason this information seemed to irritate
Ty. Muttering incomprehensibly beneath his breath, he reached into the
inside breast pocket of his light gray pinstriped suit jacket and
brought out a business card. "I came in early to call Paris. But since
you're here, would you mind putting the call through for me?"

"Of course not," she murmured, taking the card he handed
her. Relief washed over her. This obviously important call had given
her a temporary reprieve from the inevitable confrontation with him.
And maybe if she was extremely lucky, she thought hopefully, he would
even forget that he had seen her last night.

She wasn't that lucky. Her hopes died a swift death with
Ty's next, curtly spoken words, "And after I've finished talking to
Paris, I'll want to see you in my office. I think you know exactly what
about."

So much for that short-lived reprieve, she told herself,
heaving a worried sigh as Ty strode into his own office and closed the
doors behind him. Staring unseeingly at the business card she held, she
could only hope Ty would try to be understanding when he had his little
talk with her. Many employers didn't approve of their employees
moonlighting, and apparently Ty was one who didn't. Yet since he knew
why she had taken a second job, maybe he would take her special
circumstances into consideration. Praying he would, Anne picked up the
telephone receiver and proceeded to push the buttons for the seemingly
endless string of numbers involved in the direct-dial overseas call.