"I'm not going to wear these wimpy slippers," Rick growled. "I'm a Texan. I wear boots."
The tailor Jennifer had hired wrung his hands and made puffy gestures with his cheeks. "But--"
"But nothing," Rick interrupted before the tailor could get started again. "Lots of men wear boots with suits."
"That's fine," Jennifer agreed. "Wear the boots."
Rick looked incredible in the Italian wool suit and starched white shirt. The gold-coin cuff links added a masculine class that surprised her. His boots added rather than detracted from the look. He'd never pass as an effete New Yorker, but that wasn't the goal.
"But--" the tailor didn't know how to quit when he was ahead.
"That will be all," Jennifer told him, giving his hand a friendly squeeze to soften her abruptness.
The tailor huffed again, but eventually nodded and walked out.
"You look fabulous," she told Rick.
"I look like a stuffed shirt."
She couldn't resist that invitation. Jennifer ran her hands lightly down the front of his starched shirt. "Hmm. This stuffing feels completely natural to me."
"You know what I meant."
"You don't have to do this, you know," Jennifer reminded him.
"If my dressing like a monkey can make the tattoo.com team rich, I'll dress like a monkey. That doesn't mean I like it."
It figured Rick would be more concerned about the other tattoo.com employees than he was about himself. That was part of Rick, Jennifer realized. Despite apparent differences, they shared that empathy at the core of their souls.
Of course if monkeys really looked like Rick, a lot of women would spend their lives at the zoo. She straightened his tie. "You look great."
"Right. I'm fixin' to bring the roof down. Let's get Eric and go."
"Oh, Rick. One more thing."
"What?"
"People in New York are funny about accents. If you talk like a Texan, they think you're a hick."
"That's a laugh considering some of the accents I've heard around here."
"Please."
Rick winked. "I think I can pass."
His southern drawl had vanished completely although he sounded more California than New York. Probably something he'd picked up in the Marines, she realized.
"And remember," she told him, "rich people aren't any different from anyone else. Project an attitude of confidence and people will believe in you." It should be easy for Rick. His air of calm self-assurance came from deep inside of what made him the special man he was. The special man, Jennifer realized, that she had fallen in love with.
"I'll do that," he told her.
"Then let's go," Jennifer heard herself urge.
They walked down to the waiting limousine. To Jennifer's amusement, Eric and Rick battled to get the door for her, both beating the chauffeur by a mile.
"You look nice too, Eric," she commented as the three settled in the back cabin of the oversized vehicle.
"If you tell anyone I was dressed like this, you're fired," he growled. But the corner of his mouth quirked up. He was pleased at the compliment.
Jennifer froze when they walked into the analyst meeting. There had to be two hundred analysts and, at the front of the room, a table was laid out with name-tags for Earnest Laurent, Sophia DiGratten, Rick Engles, Eric Wilson, and herself. "What am I doing up there?" she whispered when she found her voice.
"Effective P.R. is a key part of the plan," Rick told her. "I insisted that you be given a seat."
"I can't talk in front of all of these people."
"You'll do fine. Just remember to hide the Texas accent."
She supposed turn-around was fair play. Still, all she'd done was to help Rick dress as who he really was--a successful business man who knew the new world of electronic commerce like he knew the contours of a woman's body. She was the fraud.
Laurent gave Rick a hard stare as he climbed the stairs to the table, then nodded grimly. "I didn't figure you would go along. Looks like Sophia was right about you."
Rick nodded. "Can we get this show on the road?"
For the next two hours, Rick dazzled the stock analysts with his proposals to pull Hudson Media into the twenty-first century. Jennifer watched as he gradually caught their attention. They went from sitting back in their chairs with arms crossed to panting after every word, scribbling down what he had to say.
Rick even skillfully wove Eric and Jennifer into his presentation, allowing Jennifer to describe the target demographics and how they could appeal to a younger more hip audience, and Eric to detail the operations side of the combined enterprise.
"That's the plan," he concluded.
Dead silence greeted his announcement. Then, after ten seconds Jennifer thought would never end, one of the hardened analysts pulled himself from his daze and brought his hands together in a hard clap.
The applause almost deafened Jennifer. It continued for better than a minute before Laurent stood and waved for silence.
"As a part of this proposal, Hudson Media will be merging with tattoo.com. Mr. Engles will join the Hudson/tattoo.com family as President and Chief Operating Officer. In eighteen months, I intend to step down. At that time, Mr. Engles will take over as Chairman as well." He turned toward Rick and stuck out his hand.
For a painful instant, Jennifer wondered if Rick planned to turn his back on the man who had insulted him only twenty-four hours earlier. Then he reached out and grasped the older man's hand in his own.
"Welcome aboard, son," Laurent said.
***
This should be the best week of his life, Rick told himself. He really was rich, had been invited to appear on Wall Street Week of all things, and his mailbox was full of letters from women from around the world with proposals and propositions including marriage, just about every sexual activity he'd ever heard of, and a few he hadn't. So why was he miserable?
Eric walked into his office with a batch of identical envelopes. "You're going to have some pretty happy people out there."
Rick looked at the stack. "Yeah. I'd better get to work."
Rather than leaving, Eric pulled up a chair. "Want to tell me what's wrong?"
"What could possibly be wrong? We just got paid half a billion dollars for our company, we end up getting to manage a huge media conglomerate and don't even have to give up control of tattoo.com."
Eric stood, walked around to Rick's coffee maker and poured himself a cup of coffee. He leaned against Rick's desk and took a sip. "You could tell her you love her and see what happens."
"What are you talking about?"
"Just because I'm a guy doesn't make me blind. You have it bad for Jennifer Hollman. So tell her."
"I asked her to stay. What more can I do?"
Eric took another slow sip from his coffee mug. "You're the genius. I suspect you can figure out an answer."
Rick rubbed his eyes. He hadn't gotten much sleep in the two weeks since they'd returned from New York. Even when he forced himself to go to bed, his dreams were haunted by visions of Jennifer. Eric was right, he admitted to himself. He did have it bad for her. For the real-life Jennifer, not for the princess he'd fallen for when they'd been in high school.
He sorted through the envelopes and tossed one to Eric. "Don't spend it all in one place."
Eric held the envelope like he thought it might catch on fire. "Are you sure we can afford this? I mean, we could plow some of the money back into the site."
"We'll have enough. Besides, you've earned it."
"But--"
"Take a couple of weeks vacation. 'Cause when we get started, things will really hit the fan."
Eric nodded. "I'll be here. You just make sure you are."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"You're burning the candle at both ends, buddy. You've always put limits on things, but not this time. When was the last time you slept? For that matter, when was the last time you ate something besides what you got out of the vending machines?"
Rick shook his head. "Go mother somebody who needs it. And start sending in the staff. They've earned their celebration."
Four hours later, after passing out bonus checks to each of his employees, Rick leaned back in his chair. This had to be almost over. He looked at his coffee maker and decided that the sludge was probably safe. He poured a mug and looked at the last envelope.
"You wanted to see me, sir?"
Jennifer looked good enough to eat. Since she'd started at tattoo.com, she'd really come into her own. She'd started wearing fashionable clothes that displayed her incredible figure. Even her walk seemed to have more confidence than it had before.
"What is that on your ankle?"
"It's a kitten. Don't you recognize it?"
Studying Jennifer's ankle was definitely no problem. He felt an energy boost far superior to the coffee sludge he'd been drinking. "You got a tattoo?"
"It's our business. Besides, I think it looks stylish."
"It looks like Zeus."
"You recognize him?"
"I have spent several weeks in close proximity."
"Oh. Well, anyway, I talked it over with Ginger and she took it to one of the designers. It's already become one of the most popular designs on the site."
An evil suspicion reared its head. "Uh, who was the model?"
"It's just an ankle."
"And so--"
"Hey, I needed the money. The Dallas Cat Rescue League is trying to raise the funding for a new shelter."
"I don't like it." If he was any judge at all, half the men in Texas would be ogling that ankle on line, then ogling Jennifer's ankle for real.
"Is that what you called me in for? To tell me you don't like my tattoo?"
"Of course not. I wanted to thank you for all you've done for tattoo.com. I think we all know that we couldn't have pulled it off without your help."
Jennifer looked like she'd gotten kicked in the gut. "What are you trying to tell me?"
"With the money from Hudson Media, we're going to have a chance to do things right, to build a really professional organization."
She nodded slowly. "I suppose that's nice."
"Of course the first thing is to reward those who made it all possible." He handed Jennifer the last envelope. He could hardly wait to see her face when she opened it. One thing for sure, she wouldn't have to model her tattoo any more. She could keep that type of exposure personal. Highly personal, he hoped.
Jennifer looked at the envelope, then back at him. "Is this what I think it is? Is this why the building emptied out this afternoon?"
He nodded. She was getting it.
To his surprise, she crumpled the envelope and threw it at his face. "You are a complete cheap two-faced monster. I can't believe the first thing you did when you got a little money was fire your staff. I'm not worried about me, but these people have sweated blood for you. Literally."
"But--"
"So what are you giving them. Two weeks pay? I suppose you think you're being so generous." She stood and started to stomp from his office.
"Hold it right there."
She turned slowly. "You've got a lot of nerve ordering me around after you fired me."
"I haven't fired you. Now would you open that envelope, or do I have to do it for you?"
"I'm not going to sue you."
That idea hadn't crossed his mind. He ought to be more worried about criminal charges--for all those criminally sensuous thoughts he had every time he looked at Jennifer. He supposed some jury could take him to task for that. "Just open the damned envelope."
"All right." She picked the crumpled envelope off his desk and slid a slender finger under the flap.
Her face changed expressions three times in the two seconds it took her to read the amount on the check.
"I also thought you might like a little something special from me," he told her. He reached into his desk and tossed her a set of car keys. "I thought your life would be a lot more pleasant if you had a set of wheels."
Jennifer dropped both check and car keys onto his desk. "I take it back. You aren't cheap. You're an incredibly spendthrift two-faced monster."
She turned and stormed from the room.
That didn't gone well, Rick decided. He picked up Jennifer's check and glanced at it. Most people would have though three quarters of a million dollars was a pretty generous bonus for a month's work. It hadn't impressed Jennifer.
Despite the August heat, his office felt like a winter chill had passed through it. He recognized that chill--it was the one he'd spent all of his life with, until Jennifer had brought her warmth into it.
Rick was a fighter. It might not have been his most endearing feature, but he was stuck with it. If he had any sense at all, he'd simply accept the reality that Jennifer wanted nothing to do with him. He'd done that years before when they'd been in high school together. Well, maybe back then, they'd both had some growing to do. Maybe back then, that had been the right thing to do.
That was then. He'd never claimed to be a genius. He was a simple man. But he didn't want to spend the rest of his life trying just to survive, when he could seize every moment and enjoy it to the full. For that, he needed Jennifer.
Rick grasped the car keys where Jennifer had thrown them and stood.
***
"What are you going to do with your options money?" Carla, flitting around her bedroom like a butterfly pulling things out of drawers and throwing them on the bed, had stripped to a bikini top and grass skirt. "I don't have to tell you where I'm off to."
"Did you get laid off too?" Jennifer asked. Carla had only hired on a week before, after they'd learned of the merger deal.
"Who got laid off? They're going to be hiring all kinds of people."
"And they're getting rid of the old ones. I got my severance check. At least Rick tried to give it to me. I tossed it back in his face."
Carla's face scrunched up in a futile attempt to contain an explosion of laughter. "It wasn't in a little envelope, by any chance, was it?"
"Of course."
"That was your options check, silly."
"What are you talking about?" Jennifer's father had lost millions in options trading. She'd remember if she'd done any dangerous stock market speculation.
"Hudson Media's merger with tattoo.com was a combination stock and cash deal."
"But I didn't own any stock."
"Yes you did. Every employee got stock options when they hire on. Even me, and I joined after the deal so I didn't get much. Didn't you read the benefits brochure?"
Jennifer felt the blood draining from her head. "Elaborate on 'didn't get that much.'"
Carla shrugged. "I only got fifty-thousand. But, hey, you came on board at the right time. I'm not jealous just because you're probably at least half a millionaire."
Reality settled down on Jennifer like Dallas air during an ozone alert. "I thought he was firing me."
Carla's face contorted between sympathy and amusement.
Jennifer sat down before she fell down.
Carla scrunched her breasts together. "If it were me, I'd get down on my hands and knees and sort of rub my body all over Rick's feet. Then start moving up slowly. That way, even if he didn't give you your option check back, at least you could have a little fun."
Jennifer couldn't help but laugh. "You've got a lot more experience at that kind of thing than I do."
"Not with hunks like him, though." Carla's eyes took on a far-away look. "I don't even think Eric has noticed me."
Jennifer didn't have any answers for that. "I think I quit, even if Rick didn't mean to fire me."
Carla pulled a T-shirt over her bikini top and grabbed her by the arm. "You've got to stop making life difficult for yourself, honey. Let's go back to work and you can tell Rick you want your money after all."
"But--"
"But nothing. It's your money and you earned it. More to the point, it's your life. Rick is crazy about you and you're not stupid enough not to be in love with him. So you go back, you tell him you want your money. Who knows what might happen."
Jennifer shook her head. She knew perfectly well. And she had no intention of becoming anyone's kept woman.
A hammering at Carla's front door shook the thin walls of her apartment.
"Ah, I've got to go to the travel agency and pick up my tickets," Carla told her. She opened the door.
"Come on in, Rick. I was just leaving."
Jennifer held up her hand to stop Carla. "I thought you used electronic ticketing." It was too late. Carla was gone and a serious-looking Rick filled the doorway.
"I brought you your options check." Rick looked handsome, of course. He also looked angry.
Jennifer gulped. "I guess I overreacted when I thought you were firing me."
"Maybe. Would you like to see the car I gave you?"
Some maternal training stepped in. "I don't take that kind of gift from men."
"That's one of the rules you're just going to have to change." He grasped her arm lightly but she found she couldn't resist. He drew her outside the apartment she shared with Carla and brought her downstairs to the parking lot.
She'd been expecting a little Mercedes, the kind of car sugar daddies gave their trophy women in Texas. Instead, a huge bomb of a car from the fifties stood before her. She couldn't hold back her gasp. "Is that what I think it is?"
"That, darlin', is the nineteen fifty-four De Soto I've been working on for the past two years."
"But why are you giving it to me?"
Rick's grin brought back memories of the boy she'd loved so much. He still had that impudent way to him. "Because I want you to have it. Because it's a convertible and I want to see your long hair blowing in the wind. Because you need a car if you're going to be doing your P.R. job with tattoo.com, and because you're going to need a car if you decide to do something else."
"Yeah, right. Like what else could I do?"
Rick raised both eyebrows. "You have to think about this? Hell, you could work full time for the Cat Rescue League. Thrifty as you are, three quarters of a million dollars could last for a while. Or, you could go back to Schilling's and sell more cheap, flashy underwear."
Despite herself, she couldn't help giggling, thinking about Rick's reaction to her black nylon nighty. With her newfound wealth, she could afford French silk.
Now where had that decadent thought come from? Apparently her one night of lovemaking had changed her, made her aware of her body and her power as a woman in a way that she'd never imagined. Although she was certain she'd never make love to another man, she still gloried in that knowledge.
"Schilling would never take me back," she said.
"Who needs him? The phones have been ringing off the hook--headhunters looking for you. I think it's safe to say you're a hot commodity."
"All right," she said. "So I'm wanted. Fantastic. And I love the car. Of course I'll buy it from you. But that doesn't change anything, really."
Rick shook his head. "It took me a while to get over this thing myself, but I did. Now you've got to do the same."
"What are you--"
"I'm talking about us. I'm talking about how I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you. I might be wrong here, but I think you feel the same way about me."
Her heart felt like Rick had ripped it out from her chest and was holding it, bleeding in his hand. "I'm glad you think you love me, but--"
"Look at me, Jennifer," Rick interrupted. "I'm a grown man. I don't just think I love you, I know it. And I'm not talking about the puppy-love we shared years ago. Nor am I saying this because you're the best lover I've ever had." He paused for a moment. "Not that I have anything against that."
"Rick--"
"Give me a minute because I want to get all this out and I'm afraid that if I don't do it now, I never will."
Jennifer nodded. Everything Rick said made her pain grow, but she felt like storing up these words, hoarding them forever.
"What I'm talking about is none of those things," Rick said. "I love you with the mature love between a man and a woman. A man and a woman who complement each other the way ... the way a transmission complements a drive train."
It was a strange simile, but Jennifer got his drift. Got it and disagreed. "We don't complement each other," she explained. "You walked into my life and rescued me. It was like I was some sort of sleeping beauty and you were Prince Charming. Well, Sleeping Beauty did a lot of sitting around and waiting. She was pretty and sweet, but not much else. That's not who I want to be."
"You're forgetting, Sleeping Beauty, you did a bit of rescuing yourself these last few weeks. Without you, the merger never would have happened."
"Well, we can't just keep rescuing each other. A healthy relationship is about more than rescuing. I rescue cats all the time, and while they're nice, I don't want a committed, monogamous relationship with any of them."
"The truth about cats is that they're cats. We're people. And there is a difference. We aren't just filling in each other's shortcomings. We're growing together. We're learning from each other. You risked your life for me, coming to my rescue with the frozen fish--"
"Not to mention my dignity."
"And I ... well, I've cleaned litter boxes for you. Doesn't that mean something?"
She nodded slowly. "But there's still this ... this inequity."
Rick took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. "Darling, I don't know whether to love you or strangle you for your humility, but you've got to get over it. All right, I am rich. Do you know why?"
"Because you built an incredible business out of what I would have sworn was the dumbest idea in the world--tattoos on the Web."
"Because we're a team."
"You can hire a social consultant to do what I did for you."
Rick shook his head. "It doesn't take a genius to see that magic happened two weeks after you started at tattoo.com. Successes like that get people's attention. You turned our publicity around. You've got to know that you'd add a lot to any company--and do a lot for any man."
Rick dropped his hold on her hand and grasped her chin. "Look me in the eye, then, and tell me you don't love me."
"Of course I love you. But that's not the point."
"Look me in the eye and tell me you don't believe I love you."
"You don't...." To Jennifer's surprise, she found she couldn't complete the sentence. Rick did love her.
An incredible sense of joy filled her to overflowing. To have Rick's true love was more than she could ever have asked out of life.
"I guess we both love each other," she admitted. "But that doesn't mean things will work out for us. We're so different."
"Things don't just ‘work out’ for anybody. People make things work out. I'm looking forward to spending the rest of my life finding out more and more about what makes you tick. About what makes you care for people and for animals the way you do. Our backgrounds are a lot different. But you know what? That's one of the things that's going to make this fun. I never would have guessed that you would get a tattoo, for example."
Jennifer's heart felt like it had grown too big for her chest. She wanted to agree with Rick, to tell him that she'd do whatever he wanted, spend the rest of her life with him no questions asked. At the back of her mind, her fears still nagged at her.
"What about my cats?"
Rick grinned. "We could endow a major cat rescue facility."
"I'm talking about my personal cats. My babies."
"I actually miss them. Bring 'em on."
Jennifer nodded. She was a big girl and this was a good offer. "So you want me to move back in with you, be your roommate again? Cats and all."
Rick kicked a pebble across the sidewalk into one of the whitewall tires of his, or her, De Soto. "If that's all you're willing to commit, then I'm not sure I'm interested. Maybe I'm crazy, but I want it all."
Jennifer's face burned. Living in the same house with Rick and not making love to him every chance she got would be torture. "I wasn't planning on sleeping in your office."
He laughed. "That's not what I meant." His face grew serious. "I'm talking about the big one. I'll bet you can even get Sophia DiGratten to come down for the wedding. That would make your mother happy."
Jennifer gulped. "Wedding?" she squeaked.
"I'd be just about the happiest guy around if you'd agree to marry me. We could make that Step Thirteen: Rick marries Jennifer."
"I want to make you happy," she breathed.
"And everyone at tattoo.com loves a party."
"They'd be happy, too, then."
Rick raised one eyebrow. "I think even your father might be happy, once he gets used to the idea."
"I can buy him a new lawnmower."
"So everyone's happy. Except you."
Her fragile tower of happiness wobbled. "Oh, Rick. You're right. I am afraid."
"Hmm." She didn't need to see the look in his eyes to know what he was thinking. Especially not when he opened the back door to his--or rather, her car--and tugged her in. Had it always had that tinted glass?
"What are you doing?" she demanded.
"I think you need some persuading. There will be some fringe benefits to being my wife." He ran his hands up her sides from her hips to her shoulders, then tugged her against him. His lips descended to hers and claimed her with fierce passion.
"Unfair," she murmured when he pulled away perhaps five minutes later.
"I'm not done."
"But--"
Through the fabric of her blouse, his thumbs brushed circles on the tips of her nipples. Not that she needed any more stimulation. She was ready for him now. She was certain she'd always be ready for him.
Only how much of her readiness had to do with her body alone? What would Rick think years after he'd made his decision? What happened when she was old and no longer attractive?
"Can I think about it?"
Rick's thumbs stopped their circular motion for a fractional second, then resumed. "No. You're looking for an excuse to run away. Only you can't find one, can you? So you want to delay and hope that you can figure out a good reason to keep from doing what you really want."
He was so arrogant, she wanted to punch him--or kiss him. The kiss won out. She felt like purring, and maybe she actually did.
"Maybe we're more like cats than I thought," he murmured. "Some of us, anyway."
Okay, Jennifer admitted, maybe she was like a cat. She wanted to be petted and scratched and fed--preferably at four-star restaurants--and loved. Was that so bad?
"You've thought this through?" she asked, trying to reclaim her sanity.
Rick deftly unbuttoned her blouse. Her front bra closure opened with a soft pop.
"I'm always thinking," he told her. One of his hands caressed her breast while the other lightly brushed against her jeans. "Right now, I'm thinking how much I love you."
She pushed herself closer into his lap and felt the hardness of his arousal. "Oh, Rick."
"Together, I think we are more than either of us can be alone. I know that's true for me. I hope it can be true for you as well."
"Yes," she breathed.
"Yes, it's true for you?"
"Well that, of course," Jennifer said. "But what I meant was yes, I'll marry you."
He grinned triumphantly.
"But first, I need the answer to one question. Where is your tattoo?"
"You'll have to find it. I promise I'll give you all the time in the world."