ON TUESDAY MORNING, Rachel glared at the computer screen after discovering Simon Kessler had made an appointment for later in the week.
She’d only had a few days to consider consulting for his late wife’s design shop and didn’t appreciate being pushed. Adam and Nicole were intrigued by the idea, but they were leaving the decision to her, perhaps realizing she was ambivalent about Simon.
Ambivalent?
Rachel almost snorted. Her research on the internet had shown Simon was an aggressive businessman. None of the articles she’d read suggested that he used underhanded tactics, but he was regarded warily, possibly because of his father. Richard Kessler’s reputation was appalling. He’d gone to court for every imaginable financial offense, and it was considered a miracle that he hadn’t landed in prison. Yet he was still wealthy and powerful. One interesting note was that he’d slid out of a few lawsuits supposedly through sheer charm alone.
A wry smile twisted her mouth. Plainly Simon hadn’t inherited his father’s charm. That was okay. She had trouble trusting people who were excessively charming—it made her wonder what they might be hiding, or if there was any depth behind the smiling face. In Simon’s case... She didn’t know what to think. He was like an injured grizzly bear, snarling and lashing out at the world.
The phone rang for the tenth time that morning, and Rachel answered to find one of her teenage modeling clients in an ebullient mood. “Please don’t think I was trying to eavesdrop,” Katie declared, “but I was getting coffee from the catering cart during a break in the shoot and heard someone say, ‘We’re getting her for our Christmas ad campaign.’ Oh-mi-gosh, isn’t that incredible?”
“Yes. I got a call this morning. They’re offering an excellent deal,” Rachel said. She hadn’t contacted Katie earlier with the news, not wanting to interrupt filming on the furniture store ad.
Katie’s excited shriek was so loud that Rachel jerked the receiver away from her ear. She didn’t want to spoil the model’s excitement, but would have to look for an opportunity to warn the young woman not to get her hopes up over errant conversations. While it had turned out all right this time, that wasn’t always the case.
“Calm down,” she ordered firmly. “You have today’s shooting to get through and don’t want to mess up.”
“I know, I know. I’ll be careful,” Katie said, still sounding excited. “Uh... I appreciate you getting me this job. You must know I wasn’t thrilled when I got reassigned to you, but it’s going great. Sorry about the way I acted in the beginning.”
“You weren’t that bad,” Rachel assured her.
It was true. Besides, she understood how Katie had felt about getting a new agent so soon after signing a representation agreement with Moonlight Ventures. But it had been necessary for Nicole and Adam to redistribute part of their client lists now that another partner was full-time at the agency. Shifting new clients—with whom they hadn’t already built a strong relationship—had seemed best.
“Ooh, gotta go,” Katie said hurriedly. “The director gave us a fifteen-minute break, but I want to be the first one back.”
Rachel was pleased. They didn’t need their clients to develop diva traits, and being punctual was important. “All right. I don’t know if I can make it to the set today, but have a good shoot, Katie.”
“I will. Bye.”
Rachel put the receiver down, cheered by the conversation. Her irritation with Simon had faded, though she wasn’t any more eager to meet with him. She honestly didn’t know what to make of the guy. He’d revealed intimate details of his childhood, but she didn’t have a real sense of how it had affected him.
There’s no love lost between us.
That was what he’d said about his father...a flat statement, his voice devoid of emotion, as if he was talking about the weather. Most of what she knew about Simon as a man, other than the bare facts he’d revealed, was from seeing him interact with his daughter. Of course, she knew he didn’t want to get married again—he’d been very clear about that—though his comment about it being too big a risk was ambiguous. A risk? To what...his heart, his daughter’s happiness, his bank account?
His bank account, Rachel promptly decided, then chided herself. Devotion to his wife’s memory was one of the few things she felt certain about when it came to Simon Kessler. He probably just didn’t want to take the risk of loving and losing again.
But he was still a cynical mystery. She didn’t want to miss an interesting opportunity for the agency, but how could she agree to be a consultant for a man like that?
GEMMA CLUTCHED THE business card Rachel had given her and pushed open the door to the Moonlight Ventures talent agency. She saw a woman with dark hair busily typing at a computer to the right side of the reception desk.
The woman looked up. “Hello. I’m Chelsea Masters, the agency’s office manager. Can I help you?”
“I’m Gemma Paulsen. Rachel suggested I come down to talk about volunteering for reading books.”
Chelsea smiled. “She told me about you. I’ll let her know you’re here.”
A few minutes later Rachel came into the reception area. “Gemma, I’m glad you came. I called Matt and he’d like to meet you. I’ll take you down there.”
Glad that she wouldn’t have to go to the recording studio by herself, Gemma followed Rachel outside. The day was beautiful, dominated by a brilliant blue sky and fluffy white clouds. With Livvie in school, she was usually free in the mornings. She’d been tempted to just walk down by the lake and read, but then she thought about how she wanted to do something different with her life. This seemed like a good beginning, if an unknown one.
Around the corner at the end of the building, Rachel led the way into another reception area. It had a totally different atmosphere. Rather than the refined elegance of Moonlight Ventures, there were photos of singing groups and book posters. Mismatched chairs were scattered around and the girl at the small computer desk had black spiky hair, black leather pants and a dragon tattoo down her arm.
“Hey, Rachel,” the girl said.
“Hi, Sherrie. Matt is expecting us.”
“Great. Go on, he’s in the control room. I gotta keep working on these stupid invoices. Man, I thought working at a recording studio was going to be so cool. Instead it’s boring and lame.”
Rachel winked at Gemma. “Don’t let her fool you. She loves her job.”
“Don’t go around saying that,” Sherrie ordered. “I want a raise.”
Gemma laughed and tried to relax. They went down a hallway and Rachel knocked on a door marked Control Room. She opened it at a muffled “Come in.”
A tall man was seated in front of an electronic board with all sorts of switches and things that Gemma didn’t understand. It was a small area with a huge glass window that looked out onto a larger room with microphones hanging from the ceiling. A woman stood in front of one and gazed expectantly at the window.
The man wore headphones and seemed to be listening intently. After a minute he nodded and spoke into a mike on his instrument panel. “It sounds good, Bryce. We’ll call it a wrap.” Then he spun his chair in their direction. “Hey, Rachel.”
“Hi. Matt, this is Gemma Paulson, the volunteer I told you about.”
“Good morning, Gemma,” he said.
“Hello. It’s nice to meet you.”
“The same here. Can you tell me a little more?”
“I...I’m not sure what you mean. This is kind of weird.”
He shrugged. “You don’t have to recite the Gettysburg Address. Just tell me something about yourself.”
Hoping to calm her nerves, Gemma smiled. Matt didn’t return the gesture and she wondered if something was wrong. “I, uh, was born and raised in Seattle. My folks live here and it’s always been my home except for two years in New York. I’m a nanny, but I’m studying early childhood development. That is, I’m going back to college in January to finish getting my degree. It’s taking a while. I have two brothers. My mom works part-time and my dad’s job is in the aircraft industry.” She stopped and looked at him uncertainly. “Um, how much more should I say?”
“That’s enough. You’ve got a good voice. We’ll get something recorded and see how you sound electronically. Just try to slow down and not talk so fast. Can you do the recording now? I had a cancellation this morning, which means my next two hours are free.”
“That would be okay.”
“Excellent.” Matt turned toward Rachel. “Rachel, are you signing her as a client? I can make a CD for your files, if you like.”
“That would be great. Gemma hasn’t decided whether she wants to go in that direction, but in the meantime, we’ll have the recording if it’s needed.”
It seemed surreal to Gemma that she might be hired simply because she had an okay speaking voice. Of course, she didn’t want to give up on getting her college degree, but working as a volunteer shouldn’t interfere.
“Then we’re in business,” Matt said.
Gemma thought he was nice-looking with his sandy hair and warm blue eyes. But it made her uncomfortable when his gaze seemed to pass over her as if she wasn’t there. Maybe his eyes weren’t as warm as they appeared, except he really had seemed pleased to meet her.
“See you, Matt,” Rachel said. “Gemma, come by when you’re finished. If you have the time. I know you have to work around Livvie’s school schedule.”
“Sure.”
“Thanks, Rachel,” Matt called as she left. “Gemma, let’s get you set up in the live studio.”
He reached for something behind him, and from underneath the table came a dog wearing a harness.
A guide dog.
Gemma drew a quick breath. So that was why Matt hadn’t responded the way she might have expected: he was blind.
Feeling odd, she stepped through the control room door and waited as he emerged, his dog seeming to know where he wanted to go. Matt directed her to a microphone hanging down in the middle of the live studio and pulled over a heavy podium.
“I could help with that,” she offered.
His expression tightened. “I’ve got it. Do you need a stool, or do you prefer to stand?”
“Stand. I’ve read you should stand when doing phone interviews because you sound more energetic and alert. The same must apply to reading aloud.”
“You’re right. When I signal, start reading from the papers on the stand. The mike is sensitive, so you don’t have to be on top of it.”
“Um, I brought a book if you’d prefer.” Gemma held up her purse, then felt her face go red. He couldn’t see her gesture.
“That’s okay,” Matt told her. “The material I’ve given you will give a good sense of your pronunciation and how you do with unfamiliar material.”
“Oh.”
He left, and a minute later she saw him reenter the control room, though she couldn’t hear anything. It was eerie. The live studio was utterly silent. He did something with some switches, then raised his right hand and waved. At the same time, a green sign lit up, saying On.
Trying not to think about being recorded, she started reading.
ON HER WAY back to the agency, Rachel stopped at the Crystal Connection for a cup of espresso. The shop was run by a tenant of Moonlight Ventures and sold an eclectic mix of goods that included fabulous coffee. Yet sadness permeated the air and Rachel was reminded that one of the owners, Eric Parrish, had passed away from a heart attack shortly after her own move back to Seattle. While his wife was considerably younger than Eric had been, she still must be around seventy.
“How is everything, Penny?” Rachel asked, generously stirring cream into her cup. She made the question intentionally vague, knowing Penelope might not want to be reminded of her loss.
“I’m managing. It helps that my granddaughter moved here a while back with her little girl. Imagine, me a great-grandmother!” Penny’s smile was determined. “How did I get this old?”
“You aren’t old, Grams,” Jessica Parrish declared, coming out from the back room with a stack of boxes. “You’re just well seasoned.” Apparently it was a standing joke and the two of them laughed.
Rachel had frequently encountered the elder Parrishes when she’d flown into Seattle to spend time at Moonlight Ventures. They’d been a loving, devoted couple who’d spoken often about their family. Rachel had briefly met Jessica at Eric’s funeral and got the impression that she was more standoffish than her gregarious grandparents. As she recalled, Jessica was a single mom, with a child around five or six. Perhaps that explained her reserve. Penny had mentioned her granddaughter was a wonderful mother, but proud and stubbornly independent.
Rachel’s thoughts arrowed back to Simon. He was a single parent, too. In a way, raising a child might be easier for him since he had enough resources to hire a nanny, but he was still alone.
Simon’s disdain for the women who’d chased him since his wife’s death was impossible to miss, yet Rachel wondered if it was entirely deserved. Livvie was a wonderful child, highly intelligent, older than her years and anxious for love. Wasn’t it possible that some of those women had genuinely believed she needed a mother and that Simon needed someone to draw him out of his grim solitude? She felt the pull herself, the desire to offer solace in the face of grief and loss.
Rachel shook herself and took a small drink from her cup.
She could be a friend to Livvie—as much as her father would allow—but must not cross a line.
“You made a face. Is something wrong with the coffee?” Jessica asked.
Rachel blinked. “Er, no. I was just thinking about a prospective client.”
“Your thoughts couldn’t have been very pleasant.”
“They’re mixed,” Rachel admitted. “It’s tricky whatever I decide, because he also lives in my building.”
“Ouch.” Jessica looked sympathetic. “I once did day care for a family in my old apartment complex. The situation didn’t go well.”
“Then you understand.” It was on the tip of Rachel’s tongue to suggest trying to set up a playdate between Livvie and Jessica’s daughter... And she realized she was already at risk of stepping over the line she’d warned herself about. “Anyway, the espresso is great as always. I’d better get back to my office. Nice seeing you again, Jessica. Take care, Penny.”
“You, too.”
Rachel remained deep in thought as she returned to Moonlight Ventures. Having Gemma show up, interested in reading books for the blind, had been a welcome distraction from her deliberations about Simon. Gemma was interesting. She seemed quite shy, and Rachel wondered if there was a history behind the nanny’s lack of confidence, or if it had always been an aspect of her personality.
It isn’t your business, she reminded herself. She might have to address it if Gemma wanted to become a client, but not before.
Rachel sat at her desk, determined not to allow Gemma’s boss to interrupt her day any further. Well, except to consider ideas for the design house. As she sipped her coffee, she added to the notes she’d made, though it was partly a list of pros and cons about accepting Liv’ing Creations as a client. No matter what Simon said about it really being for Livvie, she’d be dealing with him—a seven-year-old child didn’t make business decisions. But was Livvie too young to have any creative input? It seemed so, but she couldn’t assume.
After an hour or so, Gemma returned to the agency, her face pink with excitement.
“How did it go?” Rachel asked.
“Okay. I’m coming in on Saturday morning to start recording a novel printed by a local publisher. Matt seems awful nice. He said to give you this.” She handed a CD case to Rachel.
“I’ll put it in my file. If you decide to try picking up extra work as a voice artist, we’ll be almost ready to go.”
“I can’t believe people would want to pay just to have me, uh, talk.”
Rachel grinned. “You’d be amazed at how much work there is for voice artists—radio ads, voice-overs for television, documentaries, all sorts of things. I’m not saying you’d necessarily earn a living, just have the potential to earn extra cash.”
“That doesn’t matter. I don’t want to leave my job.”
“Of course not. Taking care of Livvie must be a delightful way to earn a living. She’s such a sweetheart.”
“She is.” Gemma’s voice was fervent. “Um, I didn’t realize that Matt was blind at first. It was only when I saw his guide dog that I figured it out.”
“To tell the truth, I don’t think of him that way. He’s just Matt. He lost his sight when he was a teenager—some guy lost control of his car and hit a group of teens. Most of them were pretty lucky, but Matt had damage to his optic nerve. As for Pepper, she’s a beautiful animal and I always want to give her love, but I have to resist when she’s on duty.”
“I know what you mean. She’s the prettiest golden retriever I’ve ever seen. Matt obviously takes great care of her.” Gemma shifted her feet. “I’d better go. I have some things to do before picking Livvie up at school.”
When Rachel was alone again, Simon inevitably wandered back into her thoughts. Hopefully she’d hidden how attractive she found him, his sardonic qualities notwithstanding.
There had been something in Gemma’s tone when she’d mentioned Matt that suggested she found him attractive. The young woman was unguarded enough that she didn’t even realize what she could be revealing.
Rachel remembered when she’d been as unguarded as Gemma. She wasn’t that much older, but it seemed like forever ago.
MATT USED THE remainder of his unexpected break to work on mixing and mastering the Sound Worthy band’s new song. His concentration wasn’t at its best, though, and his thoughts kept returning to Gemma Paulsen.
She had a terrific voice, low-pitched and well modulated. Once she’d started reading his sample material, she had relaxed, slowed down and got absorbed in the short story. An instinctive oral storyteller, he’d concluded, the kind who drew the listener in because she sounded genuinely interested in the tale herself.
On the other hand, Matt hadn’t appreciated the offer to help move the podium, as if his inability to see made him incapable of simple tasks. It was possible her initial reticence might have stemmed from not knowing how to act around someone who was blind. That was a common situation—after all, nobody was required to take classes on the subject.
Matt reached out a hand and Pepper got to her feet, yet she seemed to understand he was just offering affection.
“You always know what I want, don’t you?” he murmured as she pressed against his leg and put her muzzle on his knee.
He stroked her neck, searching for the spots she liked best.
His family claimed Pepper rarely took her gaze off him, always watching in case she was needed. And he knew that if he stepped away by himself, she quickly got restless and came looking, as if she was worried he couldn’t manage without her.
“Why is your protectiveness okay, when anyone else’s drives me crazy?” Matt whispered.
Pepper let out a faint whine and nuzzled his hand.
“I know, girl.”
She grew anxious when he was moody. He wasn’t even sure what had put his tail in a twist, though he suspected it was Gemma Paulsen. From her voice he’d got a mental picture of an attractive young woman, probably close to his age...and thoroughly uncomfortable. He’d been tempted to say if she was that uptight around a blind guy, she could donate her time elsewhere—he wasn’t a charity. But he hadn’t, partly because Pepper had liked her. The golden retriever was a good judge of character and it was clear when she didn’t trust someone.
Blast.
Matt removed his headphones, annoyed with his lack of focus. He shouldn’t care whether Gemma was uneasy around him, or why she’d volunteered to be a reader. His goals were to make a living and help make books from local presses available to people who were blind or sight impaired.
That was all.