The Bachelorette. Kate LittleЧитать онлайн книгу.
worry, Lila. I can always make a set for you,” Meredith promised, “even if the company decides not to use the collection.”
Or, if Marcus Grey succeeds in buying out Colette and shutting us down, she nearly added. But she didn’t want to voice the gloomy possibilities, especially on such an upbeat day.
After she finished her call with Lila, Meredith realized that she’d never received a call from Adam’s secretary. She was surprised. He’d seemed so adamant about pinning her down for another appointment. His business card sat on her drawing table, tucked under a clip. She glanced at it but didn’t even dare think of calling his office. Perhaps he was the type of guy who seemed all excited at the moment about something…then, minutes later, was on to something else.
Oh, well, so much the better. Maybe he’d forget all about his custom-designed trinkets and decide to give out monogrammed umbrellas or tote bags. Maybe she’d never hear from him again.
The idea should have been heartening, but somehow didn’t sit well with her. Then Meredith’s musings were interrupted by a knock on her partially opened door.
Meredith turned in her seat to see Sylvie in the doorway. Sylvie usually visited her at work at least once a day, to chat and catch up. They also saw each other at home, since Sylvie was Meredith’s neighbor.
After they met, they realized they had many things in common. Though they both had a tendency to be loners, over recent months they’d become close friends. Like Meredith, Sylvie rarely dated and also looked back on her upbringing with mixed emotions. But, Meredith often reflected, unlike Sylvie, at least she’d been raised by two parents who loved her. Even if they didn’t love each other. Orphaned as an infant, Sylvie had no family and had been raised in foster homes. She’d left the system when she was eighteen and eventually came to work for Colette, Inc., where she was presently the assistant director of marketing. While such a childhood would have made many people bitter, Sylvie was just the opposite. Her bright, warm, upbeat personality easily won her friends and cheered everyone who knew her. She looked upon the company as her family, and it seemed that her co-workers loved her in the same way.
Everybody loved Sylvie…and loved to confide in her. Sylvie just had a way of finding out the juiciest company gossip. As Sylvie took a seat, Meredith was sure her friend had come to deliver the news about the takeover.
“You really wowed them this morning. Marianne already called a meeting about the ad campaign,” Sylvie reported, mentioning one of the marketing managers. “A full-page ad in a leading bridal magazine, for starters.”
Meredith usually met such news calmly, but even she was excited to hear that her designs were so successful. “Really? I didn’t even start the samples yet,” she mused aloud.
“Sounds like you’d better. What are you working on now?”
Sylvie peered over Meredith’s shoulder at the stickpin Meredith had designed for Adam Richards. Meredith had worked on it most of the afternoon and it was almost done. She felt the urge to confide totally in Sylvie about her meeting with the handsome, seemingly single, self-made millionaire, but suddenly stopped herself. She didn’t want to talk about him. Not even to Sylvie. She felt a giant lump in her throat even thinking about him. She was acting like a teenager.
She pushed the stickpin aside and turned back to her friend. “It’s nothing. Just a sample I need to put together for a client. Any news about the takeover?” she asked, hoping to change the subject.
“No really big news.” Sylvie shrugged and pushed back a lock of her shiny black hair. Meredith had often noticed her friend’s beautiful hair, a perfect match to Sylvie’s warm-brown eyes. “I think Grey has picked up a few more shares of stock, but he still has a way to go before he holds fifty-one percent.” Sylvie’s eyes darkened as she spoke about the company’s adversary and Meredith could practically feel her friend’s righteous indignation. “The word is that once he gains control of the company, he plans to destroy it. He just wants to see Colette wiped out. Nobody really knows why. Somebody has to stop that guy.”
“Yes, of course,” Meredith agreed with a sigh. “But who? It would have to be someone with an awful lot of money…or someone who could cause Grey to have a change of heart.”
“If the man even has a heart,” Sylvie said. “I just hate to see morale get so low around here. We can’t just give up. That’s what he wants. We really have to pick up our skirts and plow on.”
Sylvie’s folksy, upbeat expression made Meredith laugh.
“Which for some odd reason reminds me, Meredith…you never gave me a firm answer about the auction. You’ll do it, won’t you? First I lost Jayne, and then Lila,” she said, mentioning their mutual friends who had both recently become married and engaged. There’s a real shortage of gorgeous single females this year and we really need you,” Sylvie pleaded.
For many years Colette, Inc., had sponsored a bachelorette auction, with all proceeds going to a local orphanage. The same orphanage in fact where Sylvie had lived for many years, so of course the cause was close to her heart and she always took on a large role in the planning. The annual black tie event was very upscale and would be held this year in the ballroom of the city’s fanciest hotel, the Fairfield Plaza. The guest list included the most prominent social figures in the city. Meredith always bought a ticket to contribute to the cause. But had never attended. She really disliked large, formal events.
This year, however, not only were her friends pressing her to attend, but they wanted her to step up on the auction block. The very idea made Meredith want to run to the nearest airport and book a one-way ticket to Brazil.
Of course she couldn’t do that.
But neither could she dress up in an evening gown, step up on a stage and display herself as strange men made bids to “buy her” for the night. She’d rather be boiled in oil. She’d rather be tarred and feathered. She’d rather be asked to shimmy up a greasy flagpole with a rose in her teeth. She’d rather—
“You’re going to do it, right?” Sylvie asked point-blank, interrupting Meredith’s thoughts. “I can come over tonight to help you with your outfit. Jayne and Lila said they’d come, too. I’ll bring dinner. How about Chinese?”
“Well…tonight’s not so good, actually,” Meredith fibbed. She tried to meet her friend’s steady gaze but couldn’t.
“Meredith…I know that look in your eye,” Sylvie said, calling her out. “You’ve got to do it. I won’t take no for an answer. We’ve got to pull together around here. The auction is a chance to show Marcus Grey that we’re carrying on, business as usual. We’re not rolling over and giving in to him.”
While Meredith had to agree with Sylvie’s point, she still didn’t feel entirely persuaded that if she paraded around a stage in a tight gown and heels—wiggling her extremities for the highest bidder—the effort would do much to thwart the heartless corporate raider.
“Meredith, please. You know how much this means to me. It’s just got to be a good auction this year. The absolute best. We have to show that man what we’re made of,” her friend insisted. “I know how shy you are and I know this is hard for you. Really, I do. But it might be a good thing for you, too. I mean, you’re absolutely gorgeous…but nobody but me and a few other select people even have a chance to realize it. I want everybody in this company to know what a babe you are. They’ll be talking about that for months,” Sylvie added in a teasing tone. “Won’t you help…please?”
Meredith wanted to refuse her…but she couldn’t let her friend down. This event was important to Sylvie, and to the entire corporate image. If the charity event went off successfully, as it usually did, it would show a strong united front to Marcus Grey.
And something else in Sylvie’s words had rung true. Maybe it was time she stopped hiding like a scared little mouse in a hole, Meredith realized. Maybe forcing herself to get out on that stage would be good for her. If she had a few more ounces of self confidence, maybe she wouldn’t act so flustered by a man’s mere invitation