“Actually, as it so happens,” he told his mother, “I think Michael’s in love.”
“What? With who?”
“A very nice, very tough girl named Vanny Donald.”
“Donald, Donald. I don’t think I recognize the family.”
“She’s from Texas.”
“Ah, oil money.”
“Not exactly.” He didn’t really want to talk about Michael or Vanny or his father. He didn’t even know why he was here other than, if he was honest about it, to kill time until Andrea got off work.
He had ordered three dozen white roses to be sent to her at the office along with a note. With any luck, she would come straight from work back to his bed.
If he managed to wait that long, of course.
“Well, I don’t know how you’ll ever find a nice girl, in Texas or wherever, considering how you shut yourself off on that island of yours.”
“Craigslist,” Evan said sardonically.
“What?”
“Nothing, Mother.” He put his teacup down and stood up, kissing her cheek. “I should get going.”
“Back to Maine?”
“No, I’m going to hang around a bit. At least another night.”
She reached for his hand. “You sure Michael’s going to be okay?”
“Yes, why?”
“Well, I can’t ever remember you staying in Manhattan a night longer than you had to since you were eighteen years old.”
Yeah, well, he had to.
* * * * *
Andrea spent most of the morning at work explaining to one division president after another that Michael Reynolds was expected to make a fast and full recovery. It even happened to be true, as evidenced by Vanny’s call last night and Mr. Reynolds’ few calls this morning. He sounded very much like himself, except for the fact he had directed her to scout wedding locations as soon as things calmed down. When Andrea pointed out that Vanny might wish to have some input on such a matter, he admitted he hadn’t even proposed yet. Nothing like putting the cart before the horse. In any case, he assured her that Vanny was not the type of woman who had spent her life dreaming of her wedding. He added that he suspected she and Miss Prentiss were remarkably alike on that score.
As in so many things Michael Reynolds simply assumed about his executive assistant, he was dead wrong. She shuddered to remember the enthusiasm she had thrown into helping plan her mother’s wedding and how beautiful and angelic and happy her mother had looked in her ecru silk, her handsome and powerful groom waiting for her up at the altar. How much she had dreamed of the day it would be her walking down that church aisle, more storybook happily-ever-after than any of the thousand wedding magazines she had devoured at the time.
How ridiculous that had all turned out to be.
As she had for eight long years, though, she put the thought completely out of her mind, firm in her Miss Prentiss armor. It had slipped off temporarily with Evan Reynolds, but she had put it right back on, no harm done. She hadn’t answered any of his questions. Not really. And from all she knew about him, he had only casual, sexual relationships anyway. So she was sure she would soon become a distant memory to the handsome, seductive man.
And she could keep from feeling melancholy about that by continuing to translate this Portuguese annual report for Mr. Reynolds.
“What language is that?”
She looked up. Now that was surprising. For all his laid-back airs, Evan wasn’t a Reynolds for nothing. He was apparently as willful as all the rest of them. The way they had left it, she would have expected he would be on the first ferry back to Maine. Yet here he was, all handsome and casual, in jeans and a green sweater that made his eyes even more sea green than usual.
“Portuguese. What can I do for you, Mr. Reynolds?”
“We’re back to Mr. Reynolds, are we?”
The girl she was training to take her place should the need ever arise, Colleen Grady, looked up quickly from her desk in the anteroom to Andrea’s office. At Andrea’s gaze, Evan looked over his shoulder at the girl. “Who’s that? Miss Prentiss Jr.?”
The girl cracked a smile. Oh well, she was still in training.
Andrea held up the report. “How is your Portuguese, Colleen?”
“A little rusty, I’m sorry to say.”
“This will be good practice for you, then. Please take this and continue translating it. You can use the library.”
The girl nodded, taking the report, and went on her way without as much as one flirty glance at Evan Reynolds. Miss Grady did have promise. It was Miss Prentiss who should be getting back to the basics.
Using her coolest tone, she said, “I thought we said goodbye at the hotel.”