‘I’m surprised he had so many good things to say about me. I’m a fan, but we’ve butted heads any number of times. Once about a girl we both liked. I thought he might bear a grudge.’
‘Not at all,’ Allison lied. ‘He spoke of you in glowing terms.’
Peter smiled, not believing a word, but not letting on. He liked to hold his cards close to his chest. But this gorgeous redhead sitting across the desk from him had a mixture of savvy and innocence that he found irresistible.
‘We’re not done yet, but to fit you in today I had to skip lunch. Do you mind continuing our discussions over an early dinner? I can’t think when I’ve been so hungry.’
Allison paused. She had asked Mike to meet her for a drink after the meeting. They hadn’t seen one another since their argument in her store and she hoped he had been as miserable as she was. But this was business. She knew Mike would understand.
‘Of course,’ she said, sending Mike a text for a raincheck. ‘I’m sorry you had to starve on my behalf.’
‘I’m not,’ Peter said smoothly as he pushed the button under his desk that opened the door to the hallway. ‘This is the kind of business opportunity I like to sink my teeth into.’
They left without passing the gaggle of assistants who sat ready for orders in the outer offices.
‘Do you like sushi?’ he asked as the elevator door magically opened and they were swept away to the lobby.
Mike did understand. He understood only too well what was happening when he read Allison’s text cancelling their date. Pete had made his move, just as Mike had anticipated. He hoped Allison was savvy enough to see him for what he was.
But Peter was clever. He didn’t show his fangs until he moved in for the kill.
Peter
Manhattan
Peter Collins had done a lot more than a quick Google search of the woman who now sat across from him. Locked in his desk drawer was a complete dossier on Allison Jones: her family, her business and most importantly, her relationship with Mike Dennison. He was happy to learn it was in the beginning stages.
Now that he had met her, and determined she was worth his time, he would take the next, more complicated step. Once he hacked into her email and cell phone, he would have what he liked to benignly call a ‘slight edge’. If he chose, he could even listen to her conversations if her cell phone was in the room with her. He had rarely used that option but this was a special case.
The exotic lighting reflecting off the wooden canopy at Nobu always gave Peter the sense that he was dining in another dimension. His stunning dinner guest did nothing to dispel that perception.
Mike had found himself a winner. He had been businesslike on the phone when he asked Peter to see a client of his. He mentioned that she was smart, talented and had a unique vision of the business she wanted to create. He did not mention she was drop-dead gorgeous.
The Boy Scout in Mike may have missed the fact that despite her artlessness, there was a wildness about Allison. Peter watched as she perused the menu. He wondered what she would be like once that cool façade was stripped away. A quiver of excitement ran through him at the thought.
Peter had known, the moment Mike had phoned to casually mention he was sending a client his way, that she wasn’t just any woman.
‘Behave yourself, Pete,’ he’d said, in a voice like steel. ‘I mean it.’
Mike was into this girl.
Too bad for him, Pete thought as he topped off Allison’s saké cup. She had barely touched the warm liquid. He was adept at making women fall for him, but a little alcohol made it easier. This one would take work. However, he had no doubt he was up to the task.
It was the thrill of the chase that turned him on. And he fully intended to catch Allison Jones, no matter the cost. The fact that she was beautiful was a bonus. But if taking this woman away from Mike would pay him back for messing with him and his operations, he would have gone after her no matter what she looked like.
He didn’t like Mike Dennison and he knew the feeling was mutual. Mike was one of those do-right guys – always judging, always calling out Peter for cutting a corner here and there. Everyone in business did the same thing. Everyone except Mike, of course. He was the Boy Scout.
Mike had thrown a monkey wrench into one too many of Media Blitz’s deals. He had cost Peter a fortune and besmirched his reputation. The fact that he was still sought after was a testament to how good he was. And there was no one better at what he did than Peter Collins. Even Mike had to acknowledge that.
Now it was payback time.
‘Are you all right?’ she asked.
Peter snapped out of his reverie. ‘Forgive me,’ he said, smiling sheepishly. ‘Sometimes, when I get excited about a project, I wander off. Mentally.’
A smile spread across Allison’s face. ‘Does that mean you are interested in working with me on Lydia’s Closet? I know it’s a tiny project compared to the type of clients you usually take on.’
‘You’re right about that.’ Peter seemed as earnest as a choirboy. ‘So I guess we’ll just have to take your business global.’
‘Global?’ Allison looked at him carefully. ‘I don’t know about that.’
‘Never think small,’ Peter said. ‘If you have a great idea, which you have, and worldwide contacts, which I have, the sky’s the limit.’
‘If that means outsourcing the manufacture of my designs to some third-world country, I’m not interested.’ Allison was adamant. ‘Those stay-at-home moms count on my business to earn a living while they raise their kids. And they helped me build something special.’
‘Hold on now.’ Peter was laughing. ‘I guess what they say about redheads and their tempers is true.’
Allison composed herself. ‘I mean no offence, but if being a success means turning my back on people who helped me get started, I’ll just go back to work as a designer.’
A female Mike Dennison, Peter thought, the smile never leaving his face. ‘Do you think New York City is the only place on earth that has women who want to stay home with their kids, but still earn a living?’
Allison started to unclench.
‘That’s the essence of the business, what will get you noticed,’ he said. ‘I’m seeing talk shows, magazine articles, speaking engagements. Lydia’s Closet can start a movement.’
Allison was staring at him. ‘Seriously?’
‘Of course seriously. You don’t know what you’ve got here. But I do. We are going to do great things together.’ Peter raised his cup. ‘Now drink some saké to celebrate.’
He downed his cup and watched as she did the same. ‘That’s better,’ he said. ‘May I order for you?’
Allison felt giddy. Whether it was the saké, the amazing sushi, or the ideas pouring from Peter Collins’ nimble brain, she couldn’t be sure. The man was a genius. She couldn’t follow half of what he was saying about interstitials and feeder sites. All techno-jargon was Greek to her. But his excitement was infectious.
She was totally relaxed from the saké and filled with joy. She rarely drank more than half a glass of wine but, feeling as she did tonight, she wondered why she didn’t. And why was Mike so against her meeting with Pete? Was he jealous of his looks, his brains, his power? Or, she wondered, cherishing the thought, did he want her all to himself?
That was fine with Allison. Admirable as Peter Collins was, she was already in love with Mike. However, she was not going to tell him until he told her first. And until she could be sure he was not going to try to control her, like every other man she loved.
Of course, as Mike had predicted, Pete did make a not-so-subtle move, suggesting she come out to his place in the Hamptons for the weekend to work on the launch. But she’d been hearing that kind of invitation since she hit puberty. When she declined, he laughed it off and admitted he just had to try. Not to worry, it would be strictly business between them from here on in.
She was a happy woman as he pulled back her chair and they headed for the door. Happ
y, that is, until she saw a figure hunched over a beer and a small plate of food at the long bar.
She’d been followed.
As Allison and Peter headed for the door, Mike looked down at his small plate of appetisers and pretended to eat. There was no mirror over the bar at Nobu, but he had been able to see, if not hear, them at the table. The body language was enough. He knew Peter well enough to guess the conversation. And he could tell from the look of excitement on Allison’s face that he had been promising her the moon.
He wasn’t concerned that Peter couldn’t deliver on his promises. He could. But at what cost to Allison and her business? There was always a price to be paid when Media Blitz was involved. Many were happy to pay it.
If he was honest with himself, it wasn’t just her business interests that had Mike skulking about, spying on a girl he barely knew. He was worried what effect the Collins juggernaut would have on his own fledgling relationship with her. Fledgling hell. He was in love with Allison Jones, had been since that day she burst into the Joneses’ kitchen with her cheeks pink from the wind and her hair in a wild tangle under a knitted cap.
‘Check, please,’ Mike said.
The sushi chef looked concerned. ‘Was there a problem with the food, sir? You haven’t touched it.’
‘No, everything is fine. I just remembered I have an appointment.’
He was ashamed of his behaviour. This was so unlike him, so demeaning, following someone like a stalker. This unique woman was messing with his head. He dropped cash on the bar and headed towards the door. He was halfway there when the door flew open and Allison swept in, violet eyes ablaze.
‘Why are you following me?’
‘Allison, I apologise. It was stupid.’
‘I told you, I can take care of myself.’
‘That’s not why I was following you. I realise that now.’
‘Then why?’
He pulled her into a kiss that she found herself unable to resist. It grew so passionate, they nearly lost their balance and fell to the floor. People in the restaurant were watching them with knowing smiles on their faces.
When they could finally let go of each other they stood staring, their eyes riveted, breathless.
‘I was following you to find out,’ Mike said when he could speak. ‘I wanted to know if that first kiss on the beach was as earth-shaking as I remembered.’
He pulled away and headed for the door. Allison hadn’t moved.
When he finally could breathe normally he turned and said, ‘It was.’
And he was gone.
Allison, Kevin and Mike
Breezy Point
It was several weeks before Allison and Mike saw one another again and that was only because Kevin Dennison came home from war. No matter how much they were attracted to one another, neither of these two stubborn people would be the first one to break the stalemate.
Allison was in her studio working on a new design for a summer wrap when she heard a motorcycle approach, then stop in front of the house. There weren’t many bikes at Breezy Point. Riding on sand was a dangerous business and, when the wind blew, which was most of the time, there was sand on the road.
She looked out of her window but the bike was parked and the rider already on the porch, banging on the door. Allison was wary coming down from her perch at the top of the house. As a cop’s daughter she was cautious about unexpected visitors. If it was family or friends they knew where the key was and would come in and shout up the stairs.
When she got downstairs, she slipped her grandfather’s night stick off the hook by the door and held it casually at her side.
‘Hullo?’
‘Allison Jones, open this door and let me take you for a ride!’ The cheery roar certainly didn’t sound menacing.
‘Who are you?!’ Allison answered.
Feet stamped on the wooden porch. ‘Second Lieutenant Kevin Shirley Dennison, Sir!’ A pause. More stamping. ‘Ma’am. At your service.’
Allison was smiling as she opened the door. ‘Shirley? You don’t sound like a Shirley.’
‘Family name, Ma’am. And thank the good Lord it’s a middle name. For less formal occasions I’m just Kevin S. Dennison, brother of the wastrel, Michael Dennison.’
Within ten minutes, Allison was on the back of Kevin’s bike, streaking down cracked roads that encircled a long-abandoned pile of high rises at a far end of Breezy Point.
By the time they were tucked into Kennedy’s Restaurant, having mussels and beers, they were fast friends. And Allison had texted Mike to come and get his little brother. She wasn’t about to allow him to drive home on a motorcycle after guzzling three beers, ‘to get the sand out’, as he had said.
‘My brother is into you,’ Kevin announced after the third beer. ‘Are you into him?’
‘You don’t beat around the bush, do you?’ Allison declared, charmed by this younger, less-guarded version of his brother.
‘No time,’ Kevin said, slurping up a steamed mussel with relish. ‘Heading back to the Middle East tomorrow. Gotta save the world.’
‘And you’re spending your last night at home with me?’ she asked. ‘Kevin, that’s just so sad.’
‘I’m here on a mission of mercy, Ma’am. My brother has been a total pain in the butt my whole leave.’ Kevin took a long drink of his beer. ‘I finally figured it out. He’s in love. Now, Mike? He’s great at everything but love. Unfortunately, he’s real lousy at that.’
‘Love. Who is talking about love?’ Allison felt lighter than she had at any time since that startling kiss at Nobu. She didn’t even care that her face was red, as if she’d just worked a shift in front of a blast furnace. ‘We haven’t even had a real date.’
‘Unlike my brother, I am an expert at matters of the heart. And he is a goner.’ Kevin slid another mussel down his throat and looked hard at Allison. ‘What about you? Are you a goner, too? ’Cause if not, you need to just walk away. Mike has had enough sorrow and disappointment to last a lifetime.’
Allison sipped her lemonade and studied this charming young man. He was educated, confident, and the joy of living just bubbled forth from him. What would he have been like, Allison wondered, if Mike had stayed at West Point? What kind of life would Kevin have had if Mike hadn’t put his own life on hold for his brother, after their parents had been killed?
‘Chop, chop, time’s a wasting,’ Kevin said. ‘I head back to my unit at 0600 hours tomorrow. If I’m over there worrying about Mike, I’m liable to get myself shot.’
Allison wasn’t thinking things over, analysing, as she usually did. ‘Then I’d better tell you,’ she murmured. ‘Yes, I’m a goner, too.’
‘Then can you stop this ridiculous game you two are playing and tell Mike?’ Kevin begged.
‘Better do what he says, or he’ll never leave you alone.’
Allison looked up and there was Mike standing next to her.
Butterflies took flight in her stomach and she trembled. She had no idea how much he had heard but she didn’t care any more.
‘Kevin was encouraging me to declare my feelings for you,’ she found herself saying.
‘Oh, yes?’ Mike stared at her. ‘Well, don’t let me stop you.’ He did not look as nonchalant as his words sounded.
Allison and Mike locked eyes and, with the intensity flowing between them, there was no need for words. She said them anyway.
‘It’s possible I’m falling in love with you.’ She felt a softening inside, a release that speaking the truth can often give. ‘It’s also possible I already have.’
Mike’s words caught in his throat. ‘I know for certain I am already in love with you, Allison. The question is, what do we do about it?’
Falling in love is easy. Staying in love is the hard part. Especially if both parties, like Allison and Mike, are uncompromising, obdurate, mulish, and absolutely convinced their way is the right way.
However, both understood the value of this miracle that was happening to them and fought throu
gh it. Fought being the operative word.
Because life had inflicted so much on them, both had developed elaborate protective devices. Much like a chambered nautilus, at the first sight of trouble they had the ability to withdraw into a safe space and wait it out. If the danger persisted, they could always retreat further and further until they were far away from harm.
The danger was that they would retreat so far that they would outrun love.
But during those magical days in June, with nothing but joy looming on the horizon, they had the leisure to fall in love. There were walks on the beach and visits to West Point; nights at the theatre, hikes at Bear Mountain, and always, Sunday family suppers at the house in Breezy Point. Mike was there so often, the family stopped treating him as a specimen to be analysed, and thought of him as family instead.
The highlight of each week was the Skype with Kevin, who by then was near the fighting, doing the same work his brother had done four years before. Mike worried about him constantly, but Kevin laughed off the danger as only the very young can.
As for Allison, she felt she had acquired another brother – one who didn’t presume to tell her what to do. She had loved Kevin at first sight, with none of the complications that kept happening with his far more complex older brother.
That love for Mike’s brother only grew over time, as did her feelings for Mike. The walls they both had built to protect their hearts began tumbling around them.
‘What would you say,’ Mike asked one night as they had an early dinner at Kennedy’s, ‘if I said I loved you?’
Allison didn’t answer for a moment but she continued to cling to his hand as the sun began its descent. You could see the skyline of Manhattan but, from Breezy Point, civilisation seemed far away.
‘If you did that,’ she said finally, ‘said you loved me, I would be afraid.’
‘Why? I would not be toying with you.’ Mike concentrated on the sunset instead of the woman sitting next to him. ‘If I were to say it, I mean.’
‘I would know that you were sincere,’ she said. ‘If you were to say you loved me.’