The Playboy's Proposition(8)

She smiled at his gentle, persuasive tone. "Sold." She opened the  envelope and read the handwritten three-line note. Bring your aunt to my  office at 9:00 a.m. for a planning meeting tomorrow morning. Enjoy  Sam's pancakes. Looking forward to our next night together. Michael.

Her heart rose to her throat. He was sticking to his part. She would  need to meet her end of the deal, too. Pancakes? How could she possibly?

"I have pure maple syrup, too," Sam said.

Bella took a deep breath and sighed. What the hell. "Why not."





One day later, she took her aunt to meet Michael. Still bracing herself  for the possibility that Michael would back out, she just told Charlotte  that they were meeting someone for a special business consultation.  Although Charlotte pounded her with questions, Bella remained vague."I  wish you would tell me what this is about," Charlotte said, adjusting  her vivid pink suit as the elevator climbed to the floor of MM, Inc.

"You'll know soon enough," Bella said, adjusting her own black jacket.  The elevator dinged their arrival and Bella led the way to Michael's  office.

"How do you know this man?"

"I met him through my job," Bella said.

"At a bar?" Charlotte asked.

"He's the owner," Bella explained then pushed open the door to the  office. She lifted her lips into a smile for Michael's assistant. "Hi.  Bella St. Clair and Charlotte Ambrose to see Mr. Medici."

His assistant nodded. "He's expecting you." She announced their arrival and waved toward his office door. "Please, go ahead in."

Charlotte cast Bella a suspicious glance. "What have you gotten me into?"

"It's good," Bella promised as they walked toward the door and she  pushed it open. "But I think it would be better for Mr. Medici to talk  about it."

Michael rose to meet them. "Bella," he said. "Ms. Ambrose. It's good to  meet you," he said to Charlotte. "Bella has told me so much about you,  but she didn't tell me what a lovely woman you are."

Charlotte accepted his handshake and slid a sideways glance at Bella.  "Thank you. I wish I could say the same about her telling me about you."

Michael gave a chuckle. "I'm sure she was just trying to protect you.  Let's sit down and talk about the business plan for your spa."

Charlotte stopped cold. "Excuse me? I lost my spa business to the bank."

Michael glanced at Bella and made a tsk-ing sound. "You really did keep her in the dark, didn't you?"

Charlotte frowned. "I would appreciate an explanation."

"The bank took over your business and I bought it. After discussions  with Bella, I've made the decision to finance and codirect a relaunch of  one Charlotte's Signature Spa."

Charlotte stared at him in amazement. "Codirect?" she echoed. "Relaunch?"

He nodded. "Yes. Let me show you the plan."

Over the next hour, Bella watched her aunt's demeanor change from doubt  to hope and excitement. By the end of the meeting, Bella knew she had  made the right choice in helping her. The illness and loss of her  business had robbed Charlotte of her natural drive and optimism.

"I can't tell you how grateful I am for this opportunity. Your backing  means-" Charlotte glanced back and forth between Michael and Bella, her  eyes filling with tears. "Oh, no. I'm going to embarrass myself. Please  excuse me for a moment," she said, standing. "Could you tell me where  the powder room is?"

Concerned, Bella followed her aunt to her feet. "Charlotte?"

Michael also rose and Charlotte waved her hand. "No. You stay here. I just need a moment to compose myself."

"The restroom is in the outer office," Michael said and Charlotte left his office. "Is she okay?" he asked Bella.

Full of her own overwhelming emotion, Bella wrapped her arms around her  waist and nodded. "She's stunned. She'd lost all hope of rebuilding her  business. I probably should have at least given her a hint, but I didn't  want her to be disappointed if-" She paused, meeting his intent gaze.  "If things didn't work out."                       
       
           



       

"Why wouldn't they? I gave you my word, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did," she said, and felt something inside her twist and knot  at his expression. He would have her again. She felt it and knew it,  just as he did.

"I'll meet you at my house tonight," he said, his voice low.

Awareness and anticipation rippled through Bella. "It will be late," she said. "I have to work."

Michael frowned in impatience. The door to his office burst open and  Charlotte strode inside with a smile on her face and a new sparkle in  her eye. "When do we start?"

Michael laughed. "Bella told me you were a fireball. She also indicated  that you already have a job, so as soon as you give notice we can move  ahead."

"I don't need to wait," Charlotte argued. "I can work when my job is done for the day."

He shook his head firmly. "I don't want you to overdo."

"But-"

"It's not just bad for your health. It's bad for business," Michael  said. "What we want to create is an environment of success that won't  put too much stress on Bella or you. We want to move at a reasonable  pace, not lightning."

"He's right," Bella said, admiring Michael's approach with both her aunt  and the business. "And since I'll be working with you for at least this  first year, I'll be able to tell if you're doing too much."

Charlotte shook her head. "You worry too much about me. You're young. You should be pursuing your own career goals. I'm fine."

"I'm more than happy to do this with you," Bella said. "It will be an adventure."

"Yes," Michael said. "An excellent way of looking at it. An adventure."

By the expression in his eyes, however, Bella suspected he wasn't talking about the spa.





That night after work, Bella tamped down her feelings of apprehension  and got into her car to drive to Michael's house. Using the rhythm of  the windshield wipers as a cadence, she talked herself into calm  confidence. Succeeding until the coughs and sputters of her ordinarily  reliable Volkswagen jarred her out of it. "No, no, no," she murmured.  She pressed on the gas and her car stalled.Flustered, she tried to start  it again and the engine coughed to life. Relief washed over her and she  made it several more yards before the car shuddered again, refusing to  restart. Something was clearly wrong. It revved to feeble life briefly  and she managed to pull it on to the side of the road.

She got out of the car to stare at a bunch of hoses, boxes and wires  under the hood. It could have been run by squirrels for all she knew.  The cold rain poured over her head, drenching her jacket.

Sighing, she got back in the car and reviewed her options. She'd  neglected to renew her car service since she'd returned from overseas,  so her customer number was now defunct. She refused to call her aunt and  bother her at this late hour. Reluctantly, she accepted her last choice  and tried to dial Michael's cell number. Her cell phone, however, gave  her the impudent message. No service.

Damn. Maybe someone was trying to tell her something. That she'd best try to find a way out of her arrangement with Michael.

Bella leaned her head against the side window of her car, recalling the  joy on her aunt's face when she'd learned she would get a second chance  with her business. That was worth everything. A deal was a deal.

The rain appeared to have slowed down, and if she remembered correctly,  Michael's gated subdivision was only about a mile from here. Walking  alone at night wasn't the best choice for a woman, but she didn't want  to stay in her car all night either. Either choice meant danger.





Five



M ichael narrowed his eyes as he glanced at his watch. Bella wasn't  going to show. He should have known that her wide eyes hid deceit. She'd  tricked him into believing she would accept his deal and now she wanted  out. Two nights ago, he'd been certain she'd just been nervous. Now, he  wasn't sure. A bitter taste filled his mouth. What she didn't  understand was that he could still pull the plug on her aunt's spa.

His cell phone rang, distracting him. The number on the caller ID was unfamiliar. "Hello," he said."Mr. Medici?" a man said.

"Yes, this is Michael Medici."

"This is Frank Borne, security for the neighborhood. I hate to bother  you, but there's a woman here who says she knows you and she needs a  ride to your house."

"What?" Michael asked.

He gave a half chuckle. "Poor thing is drenched. I'd drive her to your  house myself, but I'm not supposed to leave the gatehouse."