Millionaires' Destinies(43)

“I’m beginning to see that.” He reached for a stack of folders on the corner of his desk and passed them to her. “These are résumés for prospective campaign managers. Look ‘em over and give me some input.” He scanned his day planner. “We’ll meet again at three. I’ll be able to give you fifteen minutes, so be on time and keep it short. I’ve set up an office for you down the hall. You can use it when you’re here. If you need anything that isn’t there, tell Winifred, my secretary. She’ll see that you have it. We’ll deal with all the other issues once the campaign manager has been hired. He should be in on that meeting.”

“Agreed,” she said at once. “I’ll see you at three, then.”

She was almost out the door, when he called her back. “Yes?” she said.

“Do you have plans for dinner tonight?”

“Richard—”

He cut her off before she could voice the protest. “This is business. I have to attend a fund-raiser at eight. Destiny’s co-chair. There will be a lot of people there you should get to know.” He grinned. “And it will make Destiny happy to see you with me.”

“Then the charade’s still on?” she asked, not entirely sure how she felt about that. The dancing of her pulse suggested she was happier than she should be.

“Of course,” he said. “We agreed to keep it up until she backs off.”

Melanie was struck by a worrisome thought. “Have you considered what might happen if she discovers this was all a game being played out for her benefit?”

“Believe me, letting her find out is not an option,” Richard said grimly. “That’s why we can’t let down our guard for a second. She’ll be expecting me to bring you tonight.”

At this rate, Melanie concluded that she was going to go broke buying an appropriate wardrobe for black-tie events. “What time?” she asked, resigned.

“I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty.”

Melanie nodded. “If there are more formal events like this where I’m going to be expected to show up on your arm, I’ll need more notice. I don’t have a fairy godmother who can magically make me look presentable.”

His lips twitched. “Fair enough,” he said. “But don’t say that around Destiny. I have a hunch she’d be thrilled to be cast in the fairy-godmother role. Dressing three boys did not allow her to utilize her creative flair for fashion. No matter how ingenious the designer, a tux is still basically a tux.”

Melanie laughed. “Yes, I imagine that could prove frustrating to a woman like Destiny.” She tapped the folders in her arms. “I’d better get busy with these.”

Richard nodded. “See you at three, then.”

“Right.”

Melanie backed out of his office and closed the door behind her, then leaned against it. There had been at least three occasions in there when she’d wanted to dive across that massive desk of his and kiss him till his expression brightened. That would have been about as smart as nose-diving off the top of the Washington Monument.

Now she was expected to spend yet another evening with Richard, pretending to be something more than a freelance marketing consultant, and at the end of the evening she was expected to go home—alone—and keep the man out of her dreams. If this kept up, she was going to have to talk to him about hazardous-duty pay. She could not see one single way that this was going to have anything other than a very unhappy ending.





Melanie sifted through the pile of résumés, making notes on those she felt to be the strongest candidates for running Richard’s campaign. She also jotted on sticky notes and put them on each folder for those she considered wrong for the job. She wasn’t sure how much Richard intended to rely on her opinion or whether this was some sort of test he’d devised to see if they were on the same wavelength, but she intended to give him a thoughtful, intelligent response on each applicant.

One or two were so inexperienced they were laughable, but most fell into the middle range, with adequate experience, bright ideas and ambition. There were three whose applications stood out. She put those folders on top, then rubbed her knotted shoulders. She’d been sitting too long. She’d skipped lunch, because she was so determined to do this assignment thoroughly and intelligently. She wanted badly to prove to Richard that he hadn’t made a mistake in hiring her as a consultant, even if his motives for doing so had nothing at all to do with her qualifications for the job.

Becky poked her head into Melanie’s office. “Safe to come in?” she asked.