When Dreams Cross (8 page)

Chapter Eleven

J
ustin stewed in his office, slamming things down and kicking chairs, when Madeline came ambling in. “Hey, boss. What’s ruffled your feathers?”

“Andi Sherman,” he said. “And you! Where do you get off talking to her like you did today?”

Madeline looked genuinely surprised. “Talking to her how? I was trying to make friends.”

Justin raked a hand through his hair. “Look, from now on, if you talk to her, don’t mention me at all. Okay? In fact, just stay away from her entirely.”

“Well, how am I gonna do that? We work in the same—”

The door flew open, and Gene came running in, breathless. “Justin! It’s ABC television on the phone.”

Justin’s eyebrows arched, and he looked from Gene to Madeline, who had suddenly sprung to attention. “What do they want?”

“I don’t know!” Gene said. “But we sent them a tape, remember? Our proposal for the Saturday morning spot? Answer it, Justin!”

Justin looked down at the phone, then back at both of them. “All right, everybody out. I’ll let you know what it’s about when I get off the phone.”

Madeline and Gene both groaned as they left the office, closing the door behind them.

O
utside Justin’s office, Madeline pressed her ear against the door, and Gene, B.J., Nathan, and the others all gathered behind her.

“What’s he saying? Can you hear anything?”

“No, nothing. Shhh. He’s talking!”

Dead silence as everyone waited.

“I can’t hear what he’s saying!” Madeline said. “This isn’t fair. Get me a glass. I’ve seen it work on
Lucy
.”

B.J. scrambled to find her a glass, but only came up with a dirty coffee mug. She pressed it against the door and tried again.

“Anything?” Gene asked.

“Nothing,” she said. “Why won’t he talk louder?”

Suddenly the door was opened, and Madeline and the rest of them fell in. Justin jumped back and looked down at them with a grin. “May I help you?”

Madeline waited until everyone was off of her before she could pull herself to her feet. The coffee mug was still in her hand. “Uh … I just … was waiting to see if you wanted some coffee.”

He glanced into the dirty cup. “In that?”

She forgot about the cup and looked up at him. “Oh, Justin! Quit keeping us in suspense. What did they want?”

“Oh, nothing,” he said, checking a hangnail on his thumb. “They’ve just decided …
to give Khaki’s Krewe a half-hour on the Saturday morning line-up!”

Madeline screamed, and the others began yelling with glee, jumping up and down, hugging each other, patting each other on the backs so hard that they almost knocked each other over.

“We’re going to New York,” Justin said. “We have to have a meeting with the ABC execs and sign all the papers. Gene and Nathan are going with me.”

“All right!” Gene shouted, and Nathan punched at the air.

“Not fair!” Madeline said. “Why can’t I go?”

“I need you and B.J. here,” Justin said. “We’re going to have to double up on work to do all we have to do to get the characters ready for Promised Land, and still make deadlines for ABC. We’re going to have to have twice the staff we planned, but that’s no problem. Between Promised Land and ABC, we can hire as many as we want.”

Madeline screamed again, and the others joined her in delighted whoops.

T
he smell of soap and shampoo-laced steam drifted into her office from the adjoining bathroom, and Andi opened a window to let it air out. She rarely used that shower, for she couldn’t stand having her work sanctuary filled with humidity, but today had been an exception. The Louisiana heat had been stronger than usual for April, and she had worked with a vengeance to escape her pain over her most recent confrontation with Justin. When she’d come back to the office to face the paperwork that had piled up in her absence, she had decided not to take the time to go home and shower.

The phone rang as she unrolled one of the blueprints on her desk, and tossing a damp strand of hair over her shoulder, she answered.

“Look outside that window and tell me what you see.” Georgia Sherman’s voice sounded tired.

Andi did as ordered. “Just the sunset, Mom,” she said, stifling a yawn.

“Exactly. And, although you might not know it by past experience, that usually means quitting time.”

Andi smiled. “Where are you?”

“At the hospital,” Georgia said, and Andi could tell from her tone that she was depressed. “I’ve decided that we both need to get out. I’m taking you to dinner.”

“Mom, I really don’t—” she began, but cut herself off as she realized that her mother might need this. “I really don’t feel like getting dressed up. I’m too tired. If I can go in what I’m wearing, you’re on.”

“Fine,” she agreed. “I’ll pick you up in about an hour.”

Hanging up the phone, Andi pulled herself out of her chair and went to the window, leaning into the sill at her waist while she tried to absorb the serenity of the sunset. What would life be like a year from now, she wondered, with her park open and full of ecstatic children and adults, with perhaps her father recovered and enjoying the success his daughter had maintained during his illness, and, of course, with Justin contributing to and sharing in that success? Would she still feel as alone as she did now, or would the whirling emotions have settled by then, making her Justin’s friend and partner rather than his arch rival?

She closed her eyes as the wind blew through her hair, and breathed a silent prayer for God’s help in lifting her sagging spirits.

J
ustin knocked on her office door, and heard the low, “Come in.”

He opened the door and stepped into the broken rectangle of light cast by the setting sun. He closed the door behind him and squinted as he found her silhouetted against the window, obstructing his view of her face. The heady scent of her shower steam lingered in the room, and he breathed it in.

“I thought you would have gone home by now,” Andi said, her voice low as she crossed her arms guardedly and walked toward him. When she became more than an opaque shadow, he saw that she had changed clothes and showered since morning, and her hair shimmered like long threads of silk.

“Not me,” he said, sinking to the couch instead of the chair in front of her desk. “I’m not one to knock off just because the sun goes down.”

“No,” Andi said, leaning against the outer edge of her desk. “I knew you wouldn’t be.”

Justin crossed his legs and let his eyes peruse the brown blouse that made her hair seem lighter, the off-white jeans that accented her small frame.

“So, what brings you here?” she asked with a speculative gleam in her eyes.

He shrugged and set his chin on his thumb, stroking his chiseled jaw with a finger. “Have you eaten yet?”

Andi narrowed her eyes and stared at him for a moment, trying to decide if he was asking her to dinner or simply making a polite inquiry. His ambiguity set her on guard, and she dared not make assumptions. “No, not yet. Why?”

“I thought maybe we could go out for a bite and talk.”

Andi’s heart lurched. Was he making a move toward ending their enmity? Even after their recent explosive encounters? Could it be possible that some inner stirring was plaguing him too? She opened her mouth to say yes, until she remembered the plans she had just made with her mother. She blew out a deflated sigh. “I can’t tonight. I have other plans. I’m going to—”

“Forget it,” he cut in. “It was business anyway. We can talk about it here just as easily.”

The casual way he dispelled the notion that he was asking her for a date set her defenses up another notch. “Fine,” she said, walking around her desk to sit down. “I’ve got about an hour. Start talking.”

Leaning forward and planting his elbows on his knees, he looked at the floor, then brought his eyes back to her. “I had a call from ABC today,” he said, his voice deliberately matter-of-fact. “They want to give Khaki’s Krewe a spot on their Saturday morning lineup.”

Andi caught her breath, momentarily forgetting her anger. “Oh, Justin. That’s wonderful!”

A half smirk tipped his lips as he carefully harnessed his own enthusiasm. “What? No explosions? No lectures about conflicts of interest?”

Andi’s excitement began to ebb as she realized he was looking for a fight. “It’s not a conflict, Justin. We discussed this before I bought into your company.” Studying his expressionless eyes, she frowned again. “Aren’t you happy about it?”

“Of course I am,” he said mildly, sitting back and stretching an arm across the back of the sofa. “It’s been a goal of mine for years, and it’s still one of my highest priorities.”

“Above Promised Land?” she asked, though she already knew the answer.

He shrugged. “I wanted this before there
was
a Promised Land.”

Andi bit her lip and tapped her fingertips together, realizing that if the offer had come two weeks earlier, the merger might never have taken place. “It’ll be okay, Justin. I’m happy for you, and I can live with it.”

His mouth crooked in a slight smile. “Good.”

Setting her chin on the heel of her hand, Andi grinned and studied the handsome figure slouched with indolent grace on her sofa. “You must be feeling pretty proud of yourself right about now.”

Justin shrugged, his blue eyes focusing on the ceiling, glimmering with something close to worry. “I’m not getting worked up yet. They want changes in the story lines, want me to tone down the Christian theme a bit. They also want the humor to be less subtle. They don’t credit kids with enough intelligence to know when to laugh. I’ll have to see how flexible they are before I’ll sign anything. We’ll see how it goes when I get there.”

“Get where?”

“New York. They want me to fly up there to finalize things.”

She looked at him for a moment as the business side of her began to usurp the part of her that enjoyed Justin’s success. “Not anytime soon, I hope.”

“I’ve made arrangements to leave the day after tomorrow.”

“You’ve what?” Andi snapped, leaning forward, her fingers clamping on her chair’s arms. “Didn’t it occur to you to check with me first?”

“Not for a minute,” he said, his tight voice laced with satisfaction.

Andi pulled out of her chair and leaned on her desk. “Justin, I own half of Pierce Productions!”

“I run it,” he pronounced sharply, “and I don’t plan to ask your permission every time I make a decision. I came here to fill you in.”

“Then let me fill
you
in. You can’t go traipsing off to New York! Promised Land needs you right now!”

“I thought you just said you were happy for me. That you could live with it.”

“Well, I didn’t think it meant you’d completely neglect your responsibility to Promised Land! We have an enormous amount of work to get done in the next few weeks.”

He sprang up. “Well, you’re just going to have to wait! Good grief, Andi. I’ll just be gone a couple of days. It’s not like I took your money and skipped the country. It’ll be good for Promised Land in the long run. The more exposure my cartoons get, the more people will want to visit the park. That was the whole idea when we started this thing.”

Andi tried to swallow back her temper and looked down at her desk. Was she angry because he was abandoning the park—or because he was abandoning her? She hoped her reaction wasn’t merely personal.

It wasn’t, she told herself. She really did need him here.

She turned to him. “Can’t you send someone else? We need you to help us with the automated figures of your characters. And we’re in the middle of planning the ad campaign.”

“I’m taking Gene and Nathan with me, but they can’t speak for me. Madeline can help you with the robots. She knows the characters as well as anybody.”

Her eyes flashed back to his. With teeth clenched, she said, “Madeline is not the president of Pierce Productions! You are! You’ll just have to put it off.”

“I won’t,” he bit out, his blue eyes unwavering. They stared at each other for a moment, caught in a battle of wills so strong that each would have sacrificed the cause for a moment of victory. “Have you forgotten what the terms of our agreement were?” he grated. “Doesn’t the fact that I still own half of my company mean anything to you?” Before she could respond, he leaned toward her, the disquieting strength in his body visibly constrained as he extended a finger emphasizing his point. “I’m not going to stand here and let you dictate where I go and what I do. If you want a fight, Andi, you’ll get one!”

Andi’s back was ramrod straight, belying the fact that inwardly she was wilting with the lack of an argument. She opened her mouth to formulate one anyway, when the telephone shrilled out, adding the perfect touch to the shouting match they had found themselves embroiled in. Snatching it out of its cradle, she shouted, “Hello!”

Justin’s heart was still pounding with the force of his rage, but his breathing slowed when he saw the blood drain from Andi’s face. Her hand came up to cover her mouth and her green eyes misted over with a frightening mixture of fear and pain.

“What happened?” she whispered into the phone. Her hand went up to clutch the roots of her hair and she nodded, wetting her quivering lips. “I’ll … I’ll be right there.” She tried to hang up the phone, but her hand was trembling so badly that she couldn’t.

Justin took the phone from her hand and set it in its cradle. Taking her by the shoulders, he turned her toward him with a sudden surge of gentleness. “What is it?”

Her eyes were glassy with chaotic emotions and tears that would not spill. “It’s … my dad … he’s had … a heart attack …”

He took a step toward her as if to hold her, but stopped himself. “He’s not … I mean, he’s still alive, isn’t he?”

“Yes!” she blurted, then caught her breath in a sob. “I think so. They wouldn’t say.” She covered her face as the possibilities took hold of her. Then she lifted her head and looked up into eyes that shared her pain and offered to help her shoulder the burden. “I have to get to him. He needs me. Mom needs me.”

“I’ll take you,” Justin whispered. A sob racked her, and she pressed her palm to her mouth, as if failing to hold back her emotion would mean failing her father somehow.