Key to Love (27 page)

“Fritz, my bathroom is not fit for human use. I was in a hurry this morning and left it a total disaster.” She envisioned a rotund Levinson stepping over her lingerie, dodging wet towels, and fighting a counter full of cosmetics to wash his hands at the sink.

“What does it have to do with the old boy using the can?”

“Nothing, nothing at all.” She sighed. “If it’s too late to fix it, it’s too late to worry about it. How do I look?” She pulled at the hem of her shorts to no avail and straightened the spaghetti straps on the tank top.

“Like you’re ready to compete in a mud wrestling contest?”

Positioned between them, Bess gave out a mournful whine as her sad brown eyes rolled toward the excitement inside the house. Fritz bent and scratched her behind her ears. “Too crowded in there for you, too, old girl?” He glanced hopefully toward the front door, but no one appeared. “Oh, by the way, Levinson wants to go for ice cream with Todd, Cindy, and me, but he wants to talk to you first.”

“He wants to go for
ice cream
? What idiot invited him?”

“I did,” Fritz said. “Well, actually, my little 42-inch sidekick invited him. It did get a little confusing, Liz, with all three circus rings in motion at one time.”

“Fritz, have you lost your mind?”

“No, no, my dear, he certainly has not.” Mort Levinson stepped out onto the porch. His paunchy figure was stuffed into a pair of casual tan slacks and a dark green golf shirt. Expensive brown Docksiders finished off his attire. He smiled. “Although I can’t vouch for the others in there. Charming house you have here, Elise. It’s wonderfully cozy and efficiently planned. I like your spacious farmhouse kitchen. You designed it?”

“Th-thank you. Yes, I did, when I was still in college.” Elise was unsure what to say next. “Mr. Levinson, I’m—”

“Shocked, I imagine?” He grinned widely. “I really didn’t mean to intrude, my dear, but my wife insisted we go shopping at the mall and then take a ride in the country so I thought I’d just stop by while she shopped and double check to be sure everything is still on for the meeting.”

“I’m not sure.” She hesitated. “You haven’t heard? I’ve been fired.”

“Not as far as I’m concerned, you haven’t. I spoke briefly with Chuck Sanders, and he assures me Paul Winston is just suffering from a bout of insanity. The meeting is still on, but we’ve moved it to Scranton. I’m looking forward to your ideas and thoughts.”

A bout of insanity? Elise had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. Winston had suffered several bouts since she’d signed on with the firm seven years ago.

The screen door slammed behind them, and Todd came racing out onto the porch, interrupting with a shout, “Eee-lise, Eee-lise, Mr. Levinson is going to take me for a ride in his car! Look, have you seen it? It’s as big as two cars glued together. We’re going for ice cream!” Barreling into her legs and throwing his arms around her, he almost knocked her back down the steps in his excitement. “Can I go? Pleeeeease? I can’t ask Uncle Lucas because Fritz says he’s busy getting yelled at.”

From behind them, the sound of a heated female voice drifted out the open living room window.

Elise looked up nervously, her arms still encircling Todd as she refocused her gaze on Mort Levinson. “You sure want to do this, Mr. Levinson? You don’t have to feel obligated.”

“Elise, I love kids. This is such a glorious change of pace from being in a stuffy city, surrounded by dolts who are convinced they know more about investments than a dozen Wall Street bankers.” He ruffled Todd on the head. “And from the looks of things inside, an ice cream parlor is by far the more civilized place to be at the moment.”

Cindy stepped through the door, a small gold purse slung over her shoulder. “Are we ready? I’ve never ridden in a stretch limo. This is so cool!”

“If it’s all right with you,” Mort Levinson said to Elise, “your brother is going to take his car so he and Cindy can go up to Nay Aug Park afterwards. I’ll drop Todd off at the house before I pick up my wife, with your permission, of course.”

Her head still spinning, Elise released her grip on Todd and nodded. “Sure, that’s fine.”

Levinson started down the steps, then turned. It was obvious he had not missed her shorts and top. His eyes wandered over her, then drifted to her legs. An impish smile turned the corner of his lips upward. “You really should convince Winston and Sanders to have office dress-down days, my dear. I’d be inclined to make all my appointments on only those days.”

Elise laughed and felt her cheeks grow hot. “I can assure you it won’t be high on our punch list at the moment.”

“No, I suppose not.” He grinned.

Another series of harsh words poured out in a hot stream onto the porch.

“What a perfect beginning to a beautiful morning,” Elise muttered more to herself than to those around her and looked through the screen.

“Ah, kiddo, this is where survival instincts kick in and sane men depart,” Fritz said. “We’re out of here.”

“You’d better hurry in there before the lid flies off,” Levinson urged, and with a quick wave of his hand, proceeded down the sidewalk. “They are sorely in need of your charm. Come, Todd.” He gestured to the sparkling limo. “Let me give you your first lesson in drinking orange juice from a mobile bar.” He turned to Fritz, still lingering on the porch. “Cindy, Todd, and I will meet you at the ice cream parlor.”

Fritz nodded, but waited beside Elise for a moment.

“Nice guy,” Fritz watched them pile into the limo. “Sure wish Dad could meet him. They’d like each other.” He started for the steps as more shouting floated out.

“Wait!” Elise grabbed him by the sleeve, spinning him around to face her before he could slip from her grip. “What am I supposed to do?” She held fast.

He laughed. “I have no idea. Dysfunctional people are out of my league. Besides therapy, I’d suggest duct tape.”

“This is a nightmare.” She peered at her brother with a pleading look.

Grinning, he held up his hands, palms out. “If it looks like there might be any bloodshed, hide the sharp objects and see if they have life insurance. The last part is the important part.” Elise watched him as he fled to his car, whistling a tune sounding like “Another One Bites the Dust.”

With her stomach flopping like a fish out of water, Elise turned toward the door. Paul Winston, obviously distraught, jumped up from where he was seated on the bottom step of the staircase as soon as the screen door slammed shut behind her. His face was as pale as the light tan Armani suit he wore. His usually impeccably styled hair was plastered to the side of his head as if he had been holding it in his hands.

“Elise.”

“Paul.” She fell silent and studied him.

“Elise.” He paused, clearing his throat. “Elise, this is a huge mess. An unfortunate misunderstanding.” His voice rose in a pleading tone. “You’ve got to help me. Levinson hates me. Chuck hates me—”

“And quite frankly, Paul, at the moment, I’m not too terribly fond of you myself.”

He winced. “Elise, please.”

She drew in a breath, torn by indecision. Never had she seen him so upset. On the other hand, she decided, his miserable condition triggered a small sense of satisfaction. She remembered how often over the years she had patched the broken spirits of clients he purposely and verbally injured, either to drive home a key point or to get his own way. She decided to let him squirm.

“Why don’t you have a seat out on the porch where it’s more comfortable and quiet?” Unless she missed her guess, he was wearing dog hair and mud on the seat of his five-hundred-dollar silk suit. The steps had not been vacuumed for a few days. “I’d really like to talk with Chuck first.”

“Sure, sure,” he agreed.

“Would you like something to drink?”

“Water. Water would be fine when you get a chance.” He cleared his throat. “Elise, you’re upset, aren’t you?”

For the first time she heard genuine concern and maybe even a tinge of remorse. “Paul, I can be anything I want to be. I’m not your employee any longer. You fired me, remember?” She turned before he could respond and entered the kitchen.

Chuck Sanders rose from his seat by the kitchen table where a briefcase and a stack of papers fought for room with a half-filled glass of apple juice and an opened bag of Oreo cookies.

“I helped myself to your refrigerator, Elise. Your brother had his hands full sorting out the arriving guests.” He paused as if he wanted to say more, but he seemed unsure of the type of welcome he’d receive.

“You’ve never been a guest, Chuck. My mentor, my instructor, my best friend, but never a guest. Certainly not here in my home.” She moved toward him, and he enveloped her in a giant hug.

“Gawd, Elise, I’ve missed you.”

From the living room, a string of expletives filtered in to them.

He released her and looked warily toward the noise. “Did Levinson leave yet? This place is a pit of insanity.”

“So Fritz informed me. Luckily Levinson is on a quest to get some Chunky Monkey ice cream.”

“Elise, you have to help us.”

“I’ve been fired, remember?”

Chuck Sanders sighed. “It was a mistake. A huge misunderstanding. It was never my idea, never
my
intent.”

She went to the refrigerator and removed a bottle of water. “I told Paul I’d get him a drink. He’s out on the porch and looks like he’s about to pass out. Once he discovers the dog hair on his britches he’ll need CPR.”

“Here, I’ll take it.” Chuck smiled and held the bottle up, examining it with a wicked sparkle in his eye. “Maybe a little additive, like a sedative, wouldn’t hurt?”

“Arsenic is hardly a sedative.” She pushed him toward the door. Seconds later, he was back with Paul Winston trailing behind him, his head lowered like a scolded pup. He took a seat at the table, uncapped the bottle of water, and chugged it.

“I told him he could join us if he promised not to utter a word until you and I have hashed this out.”

Elise shrugged. “I guess you have the ball in your court, Chuck.”

“I wish! Levinson has made it clear Winston and Sanders are out of the picture if you’re not there to manage the project. Our ace in the hole is that the firm owns the designs.” While he talked, Elise went to the refrigerator and pulled out a Coke. She popped the top and turned back to him. “So we have a stalemate, unless, of course, I go in-house with Levinson.”

“You wouldn’t! And can’t.” Paul Winston sputtered, jumping up and sloshing water over the front of his silk shirt.

“Oh, just shut up, Paul, and sit down,” Chuck warned sharply. He glanced at Elise. “A legal battle? No way would Levinson wait.”

“Oh, he’ll wait. In fact, I suspect he’ll be more than agreeable to wait.” She was amazed how calm and collected she sounded, even though she had no idea whether Levinson really would. “And my contractual obligations notwithstanding, the firm loses the deal regardless.”

Chuck shook his head and looked at Paul. “It would seem she is holding us hostage, but it’s Levinson, not Elise, whose name is at the bottom of the ransom note.”

“It’s a bluff,” Paul interjected.

“What are you, deaf?” Chuck gave him a look of disgust. “I told you to be quiet. You forget I own half of the firm as well. You haven’t exactly endeared the man to us. He likes—no, he adores Elise. Now tell me, who do you think is in the driver’s seat on this potential contract?” He focused his attention back to her and said softly, “Please, Elise, come back to work for us.”

Setting her drink on the counter, she crossed her arms and leaned her frame against the countertop. “What’s in it for me?”

“Money, lots of money, kiddo.”

She shook her head.

“A healthy raise. No, a huge raise.”

“Uh-uh, not good enough.”

“Elise,” he pleaded. “We need you. No one can handle clients like you can. Neither one of us have your touch. Half of them are already disgruntled and it’s only been a little more than a week. The files look like an ad for a recycling project. Contractors and suppliers don’t want to talk to anyone but you.”

She pursed her lips and stared at him with an unreadable expression before she spoke. “I’ll pass.” She never imagined it would feel so good to say it.

“Okay, okay. I get it. A partnership?”

“Associate or full?”

He sighed like he knew he was defeated. “Full.”

“Now just a second here!” Paul Winston’s jaw dropped and his face blanched white.

“Oh, shut up, Paul,” they said in unison, looking up at each other, exchanging a smile.

Chuck Sanders shook his head sadly. “Sometimes, Paul, just when I think I’m cracking through your thick skull and rewiring your sense of logic, a stray brain cell misfires and poof! You short-circuit. We can’t do this alone. Do you get it?”

Elise watched the play of angry emotions on Paul Winston’s face.

“I’ll tell you what,” she offered and raised both hands in a signal of truce. “Give me a day to think on it, all right? It will give you time to discuss your offer with Paul, since it’s obvious he has some reservations. I have some other irons in the fire I need to sort through.”
The first one is in the room next door.

“Okay, that’s a step.” Chuck Sanders punched the air, grabbed her in another bone-crunching embrace, and thumped her on the back. “That’s my girl! Just what I wanted to hear. How about I phone you and we can discuss the particulars later? No, take a few days, and I’ll call you from the West Coast.”