The Bridal Suite, page 14
“Well,” Dana said briskly, “since I do, why not make it easy on ourselves? I’m Dana, you’re Cynthia.”
“And I’m Arthur,” Arthur said brightly.
“Oh.” Dana blushed. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry. Arthur Coakley, this is Griffin McKenna. He’s my—”
Arthur laughed. “I know who he is, my dear. Everyone knows Mr. McKenna.” He held out his hand. “It’s a pleasure.”
Griffin nodded as the men shook hands. “How do you do, Coakley?”
“I’ve followed your career with great interest, Mr. McKenna.”
“Griffin.,” Griffin said. “Or McKenna. Either one. Ms. Anderson never mentioned that she was expecting you.”
Arthur chuckled. “She wasn’t. I thought I’d surprise her.”
“Isn’t that lovely?” Cynthia said happily. “I thought I’d surprise Griffin, too.”
“An evening filled with surprises,” Dana said gaily.
The little group fell silent. After a moment, Griffin spoke.
“Well,” he said briskly, “why don’t we all have a drink?”
“Lovely,” Cynthia said. “But...” She blushed. “I’ve run into a bit of a problem, darling. At the registration desk. They’ve just told me there are no rooms. I—I told them...I asked them...” She gave a tinkling laugh. “I said I’d come to spend the weekend with you.”
“Isn’t that sweet?” Dana’s smile could have cut steel.
Griffin smiled back at her. “Sweet,” he said, blithely ignoring the fact that his relationship with Cynthia had never progressed beyond a goodnight kiss. “It is, isn’t it?”
“...and the clerk was just about to look your name up in the computer, darling, to see what room you were in—”
“Room 2010,” Griffin said quickly.
Arthur frowned. “Are you sure? I thought Dana told me that was her room number, when we spoke this afternoon. She said I could call her there, direct, instead of going through the desk.”
“No,” Dana said.
“No,” Griffin said, at the same instant. He cleared his throat. “That’s the number of the Data Bytes’ corporate suite.”
Arthur looked even more perplexed. “I don’t understand, Dana. Are you and Mr. Mc... Are you and Griffin staying in the same suite?”
“No,” Griffin said.
“Yes,” Dana said. She gave a trill of laughter as they all turned towards her. “I mean—I mean...”
“She means,” Griffin said smoothly, “that we share the parlor room of the suite.”
“And that’s room 2010?” Arthur shook his head. “I really am confused, Dana. If the parlor is number 2010, then what’s the number of your bedroom?”
Dana flashed Griffin a desperate look. “I forget,” she said. “Mr. McKenna? Can you—”
“Hell, no.” Griffin gave a hearty laugh. “I’m terrible with numbers, Ms. Anderson. You know that.” He beamed at Cynthia, who was looking at him with a puzzled expression. “Amazing, isn’t it? That a man who’s so bad with numbers would be at a computer software conference?”
“It’s more than amazing,” Arthur said slowly. “I just can’t imagine that someone who’s made such a killing on Wall Street would be bad with numbers.”
“He didn’t mean that.” All heads turned towards Dana. “I mean...he’s bad at remembering simple ones. Unimportant ones. Numbers without dollar signs.”
Hell, Griffin thought with disgust, between the two of them, they were digging the hole deeper and deeper.
“I have an idea,” he spoke briskly. “Cynthia? Coakley? Have either of you had dinner? Wonderful,” he said, before anyone could utter a word. “Ms. Anderson and I were just about to eat. Why don’t we continue this conversation in the dining room?”
“All four of us?” Dana said. Her voice came out in a squeak, and she blushed as all eyes fixed on her. “I mean—isn’t there some sort of dinner tonight, Mr. McKenna? For conference attendees?”
“We’ll skip it.”
“But...”
“We’ll skip it, Ms. Anderson.” Griffin’s tone left no room for argument. “Cynthia? Is that all right with you?”
“Why, that would be lovely,” Cynthia said. “But first...” Two pink splotches appeared on her cheeks. “The room arrangements, Griffin,” she whispered. “So I can have the bellman put away my luggage...”
“Yes, Mr. McKenna.” Dana smiled, but her eyes shot angry sparks. “Do let’s discuss the room arrangements.”
“Well,” Arthur said with a coy smile, “there’s no need to fuss. Dana and I...”
“This is a business trip, Coakley.”
Griffin spoke coldly. What he really wanted to do was punch the Bow Tie in the nose, but what would that solve? The situation was shaping up pretty clearly. This was the man Dana wanted, the man she loved. And it didn’t matter a damn to him. She’d have been a weekend’s diversion, nothing more.
“Griffin?” Cynthia gave a nervous little laugh. “Griffin, you’re hurting my hand.”
He looked down. Cynthia’s fingers were trapped within his.
“Oh. I’m sorry, Cynthia. I...”
He let go of her hand and, as he did, his head lifted and his eyes met Dana’s. Suddenly, he was back hidden behind the potted palm, with her in his arms. Her face colored. Her breathing quickened. He knew she was remembering the very same thing, and he took a step back.
“Ms. Anderson, why don’t you take everyone on through to the dining room while I stop at the desk? I’m sure the clerk will be more than happy to reserve rooms for Cynthia and Arthur at another hotel.”
He heard the swift intake of Cynthia’s breath. “Oh,” she said softly, and turned towards him, so that her back was to the others. “Then—then I’m not going to—to say with you, Griffin?”
His smile tilted. “No, Cynthia,” he said gently. He touched her cheek. “I’m sorry, but you’re not.”
Okay, so McKenna wasn’t going to let Cynthia sleep with him.
Well, she wasn’t going to let Arthur sleep with her, either. What on earth had gotten into Arthur? Flying down here, without telling her. Making it clear he expected to share her room. Dana frowned. Even if she’d had a room, she wouldn’t have let him do that. Their relationship hadn’t progressed that far. They’d only known each other a few months.
You know Griffin McKenna a couple of weeks, but you damn well were going to sleep with him, Anderson. If Arthur and Cynthia hadn’t shown up...
But they had shown up. And a good thing, too. Sleeping with McKenna would have been the worst mistake of her life. She knew what happened when people who worked together ended up having sex. Their on-the-job relationships fell apart. Why, she could have lost her title...
She could have lost more than that.
No. No, she wouldn’t have. Griffin McKenna was exciting, yes. And okay, so she was human. She’d succumbed to his charm, his sexuality...
Almost succumbed. Oh yes. It was a good thing this Cynthia person had come along.
And an even better thing Griffin wasn’t going to share his bed with her.
Dana bit her lip. She couldn’t have survived that, lying in the darkness through the endless night, knowing that Griffin was making love to another woman, touching her, kissing her, doing all the things he’d been about to do to her.
Would he have slept with Cynthia, if he’d had his own room?
Of course he would have. Cynthia was his—she was his...
What? Not his fiancée. The gossips would have said so. Not his mistress. There was something too untouchable about her for that.
What was she, then?
Dana peeped over the edge of her oversized menu. Cynthia sat quietly beside her at the dining room table, her menu held just so, her head carefully tilted. She was dressed in a pale peach suit, with tiny pearl studs at her ears and a rope of pearls at her neck. She looked serene and elegant and as perfectly bred as a French poodle.
“So,” Dana said brightly, laying her menu on the table, “how long have you known Griff—Mr. McKenna?”
Cynthia looked up and smiled. “Oh, forever. His mother and mine are old friends. Griffin and I went to school together.”
“Ah.” Dana thought of his silly tale about having worked his way through college. “I’ll bet you and he were homecoming king and queen,” she said with a false laugh.
“Well...” Cynthia blushed prettily. “I was queen, actually, but by then, Griffin had—left.”
“Left?”
“Yes. He went to a different university.” She laughed. “Well, a couple of different universities, actually. I don’t know the details.”
“But you said you went to school together.”
“Nursery school. And kindergarten. After that, of course, I attended Miss Livingston’s School for Young Ladies, and Griffin went away to board at the Essex Academy. Everyone in our crowd did. You know how it is.”
“Of course,” Dana said airily, thinking back to the red brick schoolhouse in the middle of Jersey City. “I know how it is.”
“And what about your Arthur? Have you known each other long?”
Dana shrugged. “A few months.”
Cynthia smiled. “I’ll just bet there’s a June wedding in the making.”
“Well, he hasn’t actually asked me to marry him yet...”
“But he will. And, when he does, you’ll say ‘yes’. It’s what every girl wants, isn’t it? To have a man take care of her?”
Dana bristled. “I don’t need a man to take care of me! No woman does.”
“I suppose there are some who feel that way.” Cynthia sighed. “I’m afraid I’m quite old-fashioned. So is Griffin. We both agree that a woman should center her life around her husband.”
Dana’s heartbeat stumbled. That was what Cynthia was, then. Not a lover. Not a mistress. Not even a girlfriend.
Cynthia was the Wife Designate.
“How nice.” She forced a smile to her lips. “Then, you should be very happy together.”
“Well, as you just said about your young man, Griffin hasn’t actually proposed yet, but—”
“But, he will.”
“His mother thinks so.”
Not just the Wife Designate. Dana’s smile wobbled. The Wife Designate, complete with the McKenna Maternal Blessing.
Not that it mattered.
“That’s—that’s wonderful,” she said brightly.
Cynthia sighed. “I just wish—”
“What do you wish?”
Both women looked up. Griffin stood alongside the table. Dana’s heart turned over. He was so handsome. So exciting. And he was going to marry Cynthia Gooding, who’d obey his every command, accede to his every wish, bore him to tears for the rest of his life instead of standing up to him, arguing with him, making him so angry that the only way to soothe that anger was to go into his arms...
“What do you wish, Cynthia?” Griffin said again, and Dana leaped to her feet.
“She wishes Arthur would hurry up and come back, so we could get this meal over with.” She shot them a wobbly smile, and rushed off in search of Arthur.
In search of sanity.
“They dance well together, don’t they, Griffin?”
Griffin’s eyes narrowed. Dana and the Bow Tie were waltzing. He’d have laid ten to one odds that the Bow Tie had taken dancing lessons. Well, Griffin had, too. It was one of the things you had to do, at Essex, but he’d moved past that silly one, two, three, thank God. A man could waltz and still manage to hold a woman close to him, feel her body move against his, smell her scent.
Cynthia lay her hand on top of his. “Griffin? Don’t they dance well together?”
“Yes,” he said, and bared his teeth in what he hoped was a smile.
“The band’s quite good, don’t you think?”
He nodded. “Yes,” he said again, his eyes riveted to Dana and the Bow Tie.
“Griffin.” Cynthia moved closer. “You haven’t danced with me once this evening.”
“Maybe later.”
“Just one da—”
“I’m not in the mood, Cynthia.”
“Oh.”
Griffin sighed. The single word was an accusation that trembled in the air. Hell, he thought glumly, he was being an insensitive bastard, but whose fault was that? Why didn’t Cynthia stand up to him? Why didn’t she jab her finger into his chest and say, listen, McKenna, you are treating me like dirt and if you don’t stop, I’ll go someplace where I’m appreciated.
Because she wasn’t Dana, that was why.
Dammit, he thought, and turned his back to the dance floor.
“Cynthia.”
“Yes?”
Unshed tears glittered in her eyes. Griffin reached out and cupped her face with his hand.
“Cyn, I’m sorry.”
She smiled tremulously.
“You’ve nothing to apologize for, Griffin.”
“I do.”
“No. No, you don’t.”
“Dammit!” Griffin snatched back his hand. “Don’t make me out to be a saint when I’ve been an S.O.B. I know I’ve been rotten to you, all evening.”
“Not all evening. Anyway, you’re preoccupied with business. I understand. I never should have dropped in on you.” She smiled again, but one perfect tear rolled down her cheek. “I just wanted to do something that would surprise you.”
He sighed and blotted the tear with his fingertip. “Yeah, well, you certainly did that.”
Cynthia looked towards the dance floor. “She’s very pretty, your Miss Anderson.”
“Is she? I hadn’t really—”
“Smart, too. She has strange ideas, though. She’s one of those feminists.”
“She’s very independent, Cynthia.”
“Did you see how she took over? Pulling out her chair without waiting for Arthur to do it, telling the waiter what she wanted to eat instead of letting Arthur do it for her.” Cynthia shook her head. “I never saw such a thing.”
“Well, the Bow...Coakley should have said something, if he didn’t like it.”
“A man shouldn’t have to say something. A woman should be feminine and wait for the man to make certain decisions.”
“Dana is feminine.”
“Well, I suppose she looks feminine enough, though, actually, that outfit is—well, it’s—”
“Yes?”
“Obvious, you know? That slit in the skirt. That neckline. I’m sure her beau would prefer her to dress in a more discrete fashion.”
Griffin looked across the dance floor. The band had segued into a tango. The Bow Tie was dipping Dana back over his arm. Her hair trailed out behind her, like a golden flame; her out thrust leg was exposed from ankle to thigh.
“She looks...” He cleared his throat. “She looks all right.”
The music changed yet again, became soft and dreamy. The lights dimmed. The Bow Tie tried to draw Dana closer but she didn’t seem cooperative. Then her eyes met Griffin’s. Her chin lifted, and she melted into the Bow Tie’s embrace.
Griffin’s vision clouded.
The Bow Tie’s hands slid down Dana’s back and settled at the base of her spine. Dana slid her arms around his neck.
“Enough,” Griffin snarled, and shot to his feet.
“Griffin? Darling, what is it?”
“It’s late,” he said, dumping bills on the table. “Tomorrow’s a long day.”
“I haven’t finished my—” Cynthia blinked as Griffin dragged back her chair, pulled her to her feet and hurried her across the dance floor. “Griffin.” She gave a little laugh. “If you’d just slow down...”
Dana and the Bow Tie were swaying to the music. Dana’s head was on his shoulder; her eyes were closed. Griffin muttered something under his breath and tapped her on the shoulder.
“Time to call it a night, Anderson.”
She lifted her head and stared at him. “I beg your pardon?”
“I said, it’s late, and we have to get an early start in the morning.”
“But—”
“Coakley?”
He thought, just for a minute, that Coakley was going to protest. Something masculine and primitive stirred deep inside him. Come on, he thought, and almost smiled, come on, man, just give me an excuse...
“Yes,” Arthur said. He let go of Dana and his bow tie slid up, then down, as he swallowed. “Dana, Mr. Mc—I mean, Griffin is right. We’ve all had a long day.”
Griffin took Dana’s elbow. “Indeed,” he said, and strode from the nightclub with one woman on each arm.
Dana spun towards him as soon as they reached the lobby.
“Let go of me, McKenna!”
“I told you, it’s late.”
“I am your employee, not your property. When I decide it’s time to call it a night, I’ll—”
“You should have done that hours ago. You have to finish working on that code, Anderson, or have you forgotten your responsibilities?”
“I told you, I’m almost done with the code. Another half an hour—”
“Well, I want that half an hour put in tonight, not tomorrow morning.”
Dana took a step back. “You are, without a doubt, the most selfish son of a—”
“Griffin!” Cynthia’s face was white. “Are you going to let her talk to you that way?”
“Now, Griffin.” Arthur’s face was even whiter. “Surely, you can speak a little more politely.”
“Stay out of this, Coakley.”
“Yes, Arthur.” Dana’s eyes flashed. “Stay out of this. This is between Simon Legree and me.”
Griffin let go of Cynthia and moved towards Dana. “Go to your room,” he said in a soft, cold voice.
“I am not a child, McKenna!”
“You are an employee, and this is not a vacation. If you want to keep your job, you’ll do as you’re told.”
“My room?” Dana’s voice shook with rage. “My room? Don’t you mean that travesty they call the br—”
Oh God. The Bridal Suite, she’d almost said, and then she’d have lost everything. Her job. Her promotion. Arthur’s respect, because he’d never believe the truth. Who would? Not even Cynthia, the limpet, who just stood there with her silly mouth open and her hands pressed to her cheeks, would believe the truth, that she and the Mighty McKenna were sharing the Bridal Suite when the only thing they should have been sharing was ten rounds in a boxing ring.
