10
NICOLE STILL HADN’T returned by two o’clock Sunday afternoon. Martha had come home from church and prepared lunch. Andrew hadn’t been hungry, so she had put the food away for later. Andrew had thanked her and told her to take the rest of the day off to visit with her friends. She’d promptly taken him up on his offer, though she didn’t leave without urging him one more time to eat something.
As the hours crept by, Andrew paced. His mother’s dog paced right at his heels, as though it, too, were anxiously awaiting Nicole’s return. In fact, Andrew nearly stepped on the mutt more than once. He thought about putting it in the laundry room and closing the door, but he couldn’t seem to do so.
It wasn’t that he wanted the dog’s company, he assured himself; he just didn’t want his mother accusing him of not taking good care of her pet.
At two-thirty, Nicole breezed into his den, smiling brightly, obviously unaware that he’d been counting every minute she was away from him. His first impulse was to ask her where she’d been, who she’d been with, why she hadn’t told him she would be gone. He bit the questions back, knowing he had no right to ask them.
She looked beautiful in a bright red dress of some soft knit fabric. Long-sleeved with a high neck, it was hardly a revealing garment, but the wide black belt emphasized her slender waist in contrast to her nicely rounded breasts and hips, and the full skirt swayed gently around her beautiful legs when she moved. He didn’t like not knowing who had admired her in that dress.
He hadn’t realized how possessive he could be until he’d met Nicole.
“It’s such a beautiful day,” she said. “I was just thinking what a nice day it would be for a bike ride. You wouldn’t have a couple of bicycles, would you?”
He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d ridden a bicycle—other than the stationary type at his health club. “No, I’m afraid not.”
She shrugged. “Some other time, then. But we really should get out for a while this afternoon. I just heard a radio weather guy reminding everyone that this gorgeous, unseasonable weather isn’t going to last much longer. That cold front is coming through soon.”
Andrew wasn’t in the least interested in a weather report. He was nearly consumed with the urge to know who she’d been enjoying the beautiful weather with so far that day.
Nicole suddenly grimaced. “I’m sorry. I’m taking a lot for granted, aren’t I? You probably already have plans for the afternoon?”
“No. I had thought we could spend the day together,” he said, trying not to sound stiff. Knowing he did, anyway.
The mild barb apparently sailed right over her head. “Great!” she said with a smile. “What would you like to do?”
He was suddenly hungry, having missed both breakfast and lunch. “I was just about to eat lunch. Martha kept it warm for me.”
She looked surprised. “You haven’t had lunch yet?”
“I wasn’t hungry before. I am now. Er, have you eaten?” he asked, thinking she might tell him where she’d been.
She cocked her head and frowned at him. “Of course. I told you I was having lunch with my sister.”
She’d been with her sister. Some of the weight lifted from his shoulders.
But when had she told him? “You did?”
She nodded. “In the note I left you. I meant to tell you last night, but—well, I got distracted,” she murmured with a blush and a smile. “And then this morning, you were sleeping so soundly that I didn’t want to disturb you, so I left the note. You did find it, didn’t you?”
He shook his head, trying to hide his mixed emotions. “I didn’t see a note.”
“I left it on my pillow. What in the world could have happened to it?”
She turned and hurried out of the room. Andrew followed curiously, Buffy still prancing at his heels.
They found the scrap of pink paper on the floor beside his bed. It was crumpled and a bit ragged, with several canine-looking perforations in the paper.
“Looks like Buffy found it first,” Nicole said apologetically, glancing at the dog as she handed the note to Andrew. Looking suspiciously innocent, Buffy hopped onto the bed, curled into a fuzzy ball, and went to sleep.
Ignoring the animal snoozing on his designer bedspread, Andrew read the words Nicole had scribbled in her loose, looping handwriting.
Andrew—I forgot to tell you that I’ll be in church this morning and then having lunch with my sister and our cousin Nate. Back early afternoon.
It was signed “Nicky.”
She had left him a note. She hadn’t simply walked out, oblivious to his feelings. She’d felt he had at least some right to know where she’d gone. The realization made his throat tighten in relief—and something else he couldn’t quite define.
“I, uh, must have slept heavier than usual,” he said, keeping his gaze on the note. “I didn’t even know the dog was in my room until my father called and woke me around ten.”
“You were really out of it when I got up. Something tells me you don’t get to sleep late very often.”
“No,” he admitted. “I’m usually in the office by eight.”
“Even on weekends?”
“Most of them.”
Nicole touched his arm. “You work too hard.”
It suddenly struck him that he’d just discovered another major difference between himself and Nicole. She had a life. Friends. Interests. Passions.
All he had was his work.
“I thought about asking you to join me this morning,” Nicole confessed, her voice a bit tentative.
“Why didn’t you?” he asked, genuinely curious.
She shrugged. “Well, you were sleeping so peacefully. And, besides, I didn’t think you’d be interested.”
“Why?” he asked again.
“The church I usually attend is a tiny Baptist church a few miles out of Whitehaven. It’s very informal. Most of the members are farmers and laborers.”
“My grandfather was a farmer,” Andrew informed her. He didn’t bother to add that Andrew Colton Tyler, Sr., had been a very wealthy farmer from a long line of landowners. There’d been few common laborers in the Tyler line.
“And I would have enjoyed meeting your sister and your cousin,” he added.
“Amy’s sweet, but a compulsive tease. Nate’s very quiet and moody. Some days he can be charming, but other times he hardly speaks.”
“Which was he today?”
“Oh, he was the brooding genius today. Apparently he’s having trouble with a new computer program he’s working on. Something that simplifies surfing the Internet, I think he said. Anytime he has problems with his work, he gets crabby. Not enough to keep him from a free meal, of course,” she added with a laugh.
Andrew lifted an eyebrow. “Free?”
“Amy and I usually pay for lunch. Nate never has any money.”
Andrew noted that Nicole didn’t seem overly concerned about her cousin’s freeloading. Since she’d already mentioned that she partially supported her sister, he suspected that she was the one who’d picked up the full tab for lunch. And considering that she was currently unemployed, he figured her own finances had to be getting strained.
He was tempted to ask; after all, he had plenty. He would be happy to help her out. But something told him Nicole wouldn’t take the offer quite in the spirit he’d intend it. Pride was a tricky thing, and Nicole seemed to have her share of it. She’d never asked him for anything. She was obviously the self-sufficient, independent type.
While he admired her competence, he couldn’t help wishing there was something he could offer that would make her want to stay with him. It was the first time ever that he’d ever wanted a woman to want something from him.
He wondered if he could help her in a less obvious way. “Your cousin is good with computers?”
“Are you kidding? He’s a genius. There’s nothing he can’t do with one. He built his first computer when he was sixteen and he’s been doing amazing things with them ever since.”
Andrew couldn’t help smiling at the pride in her voice. “Why hasn’t an employer discovered his talent?”
She made a face. “He’s had a few offers—and accepted even fewer of them—but he’s really not the corporate type. To put it in kindergarten terms, he doesn’t work and play well with others, I’m afraid. I love him dearly, but he’s a bit...well, strange. Geniuses often are, you know.”
“So I’ve learned,” he said, his smile deepening. Andrew had worked with a few computer geniuses in the past few years. Some had said he had a gift for communicating with them. He’d always considered it just a part of his job.
To get what he wanted from them, he’d learned to deal with them. As simple as that.
“I’d like to meet your cousin. I’m always interested in new talent for my own company. And I’ve worked with a few designers that other people have considered too difficult.”
Nicole’s eyes lit up, making Andrew glad that he’d made the impulsive suggestion. “I’ll arrange an introduction,” she said immediately. “Next Thursday, if possible. He’s usually in a good mood on Thursdays.”
“Why Thursdays?”
She shrugged. “He just is. But never try to talk to him on a Tuesday. He’s impossible on Tuesdays.”
Andrew only nodded.
“I’ll call him tomorrow and talk to him about it. He’s fairly approachable on Mondays. Unless—” She suddenly paused and looked at Andrew suspiciously. “You really are interested in meeting him? You aren’t just doing this for me, are you?”
Andrew had always been lousy at lying. He’d never bothered to learn how to do it well, since his usually blunt candor had served him well enough in the past. “Yes, partially for you,” he admitted. “I won’t go so far as to hire him, even to please you, if he has nothing to offer. But if he does, then I’ll be the one who benefits from his talent.”
“It’s not a charity thing, then?” she asked hopefully.
He shook his head. “No. I’d like to meet him.”
Her smile returned. “Thank you.” She rose on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “You’re a very sweet man, Andrew Tyler.”
He snagged her around the waist, pulling her closer. “I’m not sure anyone’s ever said those words to me before,” he murmured.
She looped her arms around his neck. “Well, I’ve said them. And they’re true.”
He didn’t quite know what to say. But he knew exactly what to do. He covered her mouth with his.
She murmured her pleasure and melted into the embrace.
THEY WENT to his club for dinner Sunday evening. It was Nicole’s idea, in a way. She’d pointed out that she’d made most of the decisions concerning their entertainment to that point, and she wanted to spend the evening the way he would have if she hadn’t been there. It was her way of getting to know him better, she’d added.
Andrew often dined at the club when Martha took an evening off from cooking. He wore chinos and a sweater, and Nicole wore a simple sweater-and-slacks set that somehow managed to be casual and elegant at the same time.
Again that evening, Andrew was amazed at how easily she seemed to fit into any situation. His acquaintances, of course, greeted him politely when he entered, which didn’t surprise him. What did surprise him was the warmth with which they greeted Nicole. By name. And they’d only met her once, at the New Year’s Eve bash.
Obviously she’d made a favorable impression that evening, and not just with Andrew.
He was aware of the speculative glances turned their way. The single men eyed Nicole and wondered how long Andrew would manage to hold on to her. The matrons whispered predictions of either a spectacular wedding or an equally spectacular breakup. The few catty others asserted that she must be after his money, since she couldn’t possibly be interested in his personality.
He was all too familiar with the gossip patterns of his set. He’d heard it all before, though he’d consistently refused to participate.
Looking across the small table at Nicole, he thought rather wistfully that she looked as at ease in his world as she had in her own. He wanted very badly to believe that was a good sign. He could hardly imagine his world without her now.
Too fast. Too much, the nagging voice of reason whispered through his head.
He pushed it aside, choosing instead to concentrate on Nicole’s musical laughter as she told him an amusing anecdote about something a small child had said in her church that morning.
NICKY SPENT the evening watching Andrew with his peers. Looking for any sign of intimacy among them. Finding none.
Again she had the impression that he was a solitary man in the middle of a large, rather obsequious crowd. He had respect, admiration, more than a little envy, but wasn’t there anyone who truly loved him?
His parents seemed to love the image that their son projected—strong, smart, successful. But did they ever see or recognize the bleak loneliness hidden deep in his beautiful blue eyes? The wistfulness with which he sometimes gazed at the bustling, laughing, demonstrative world around him?
Would he ever allow anyone—no, would he ever allow her—to know him well enough to really love him?
There was so much about him to admire and respect. But she couldn’t help worrying that her imprudent tumble into love was only going to lead to heartache. She knew herself too well to believe that she’d be satisfied only with physical intimacy from the man she loved. She needed so much more.
Would Andrew ever be able to give it?
She hoped her bright smile hid her worries. She found it encouraging when she coaxed a small grin out of him in return. If nothing else, she thought pensively, she could give him this. A few evenings of fun to balance the long hours of hard work. Was that all he wanted from her—or did he, like herself, want more?
If she had any psychic abilities, she would use them now, she thought with a touch of forced whimsy. It would be nice to be offered even a brief glimpse into the mind and heart of Andrew Colton Tyler III.
THERE WAS A STRANGE vehicle in Andrew’s driveway when he returned from work Monday evening. And “strange” was the operative word, he decided, frowning at the battered van that seemed to be made up mostly of mismatched junkyard parts.
Buffy rushed to meet him when he entered the front door, yipping excitedly and leaping straight into the air, her feathery tail frantically beating the air. Andrew thought of all the people who talked about what a joy it was to have a pet to greet them when they arrived home.
“They’re all nuts,” he muttered, fending off the hyperactive little mutt.
“Settle down, will ya?” he grumbled, giving the dog a brisk pat to calm it. “Man, you’d think you haven’t seen a human in weeks.”
The dog only wagged its tail harder and licked his hand.
As Andrew knelt beside his mother’s dog, a streak of orange fur suddenly raced up his arm and settled on his shoulder. Startled, Andrew jerked.
Sharp claws pierced his suit jacket and through his shirt to find the vulnerable skin beneath. Andrew gave a strangled curse and tried to shrug the animal off, but it clung stubbornly.
There was a cat on his shoulder. Twisting his neck to study the creature, he noted that it was little more than a straggly orange kitten. It meowed pitifully and tried to hide beneath Andrew’s chin.
The dog stood on its hind legs, front paws braced on Andrew’s leg, and barked a challenge at the intrusive cat.
“What the—Nicole!”
Trying to peel the cat off his shoulder without ruining his suit, Andrew called Nicole’s name again. His housekeeper appeared instead.
“Oh, dear,” Martha said, making an obvious effort to look sympathetic while fighting an instinctive smile at her employer’s predicament. “Here, let me help you,” she said, reaching out to take the cat firmly in her hands.
“Let go, now,” she murmured, gently extricating tiny claws from the expensive fabric of Andrew’s jacket. “I’ve got you.”
“I would ask where it came from, but I suppose I already know,” Andrew said. “Nicole?”
Still subduing a smile, Martha nodded. “She found the poor little thing this morning. It looked to have been abandoned. She said she only brought it here until she finds it a good home.”
Andrew sighed. “Where is she?”
“She’s working this evening. But there’s someone waiting to meet you in your study.”
Andrew had a hard time deciding which comment to question first. “She’s working? Where? And who’s waiting for me?”
“She’s found a waitressing job in a restaurant in midtown. On Madison, I think. She said to tell you she gets off at eleven and will be home afterward. And the man who’s waiting for you is her cousin, Mr. Nathaniel Holiday. He said you’re expecting him.”
Andrew rubbed his temple over the earpiece of his glasses. “All right. I’ll go talk to him. Did Nicole tell you the name of the restaurant where she’s working?”
“She wrote it down. I have it in the kitchen.”
“I’d like to see it when I’m finished.”
“Yes, sir. Will you be wanting dinner here this evening, Mr. Andrew?”
“No. I’ll probably dine out.”
Martha’s mouth twitched again. “Yes, sir.”
Murmuring reassurances to the mewing cat, she carried it off, ordering Buffy to follow. Rather to Andrew’s surprise, the dog obeyed. Must be time for it to eat, he decided, then went in search of Nicole’s cousin.
The man was sitting at Andrew’s formerly pristine desk, which was now littered with portable computer equipment, stacks of disks and papers, and what appeared to be candy wrappers. Behind the mess sat Nathaniel Holiday.
He was young—no more than mid-twenties, Andrew guessed—and disheveled, to put it generously. He had a mop of curly, unruly black hair that reminded Andrew forcibly of Nicole’s dark curls, and a stubble of dark whiskers on his thin cheeks and stubborn-looking chin. There was a smudge of chocolate on his right cheek.
He looked up from his computer screen when Andrew entered the room, and his eyes were as dark as Nicole’s, his lashes perhaps a shade longer—unusually long for a male. He wore a black turtleneck with a yellow smear of what might have been mustard on the right shoulder, and a complex, multifunctional black watch that almost dwarfed his thin left wrist as his hands hovered above the keyboard.
Andrew suddenly recognized that keyboard—as well as the other equipment. It had all been neatly arranged on the credenza when he’d left that morning.
“That’s my equipment,” he felt compelled to state irritably.
Nate nodded. “You had a real mess on here. Don’t know how you navigated through it all. I’ve done some organizing and interfacing for you.” He paused, apparently waiting for Andrew to express his heartfelt gratitude.
“I have some important and confidential material in that computer,” Andrew said from between his teeth. “If you’ve messed it up—”
Nate’s dark eyebrows drew together. “I don’t ‘mess up,”’ he said testily. “And it couldn’t have been much more of a mess than it was, anyway. Come have a look.”
Still scowling, Andrew rounded the corner of his desk to find out how much damage Nicole’s cousin had done. “All right. Show me.”
Twenty minutes later he was shaking his head in amazement. Nate had rearranged his files so that Andrew could have instant access to anything on the hard drive with only a touch or two on the keyboard. He’d even simplified access to the computers at DataProx, and to the complex, often confusing Internet.
“This is my own net-search design,” Nate announced without modesty. “Helluva lot easier than anything available commercially now.”
“Why haven’t you marketed this?” Andrew demanded.
Nate shrugged the mustard-stained shoulder. “Takes money. I don’t have any.”
“And you haven’t been able to get anyone to look at it?” Andrew couldn’t believe this talent hadn’t already been snapped up by the perpetually hungry computer industry.
“I haven’t tried much,” Nate admitted. “I’m not into the introduction-and-interview thing, you know? I’ve sold a few game programs during the past couple of years, and have hired out a couple of times for customized programming, but I don’t really have time for all the games corporates like to play.”
Andrew was hardly surprised by that announcement.
“What I’m really interested in,” Nate went on, “is global communication. I’m working on an E-mail program that includes an instant language translator, among other new features. You type your message in English and multiple recipients read it in whatever languages you designate with no more delay than a normal E-mail transmission. It’s got a few bugs—most of them concerning slang and dialect—but nothing I couldn’t solve with time and money. That money thing is the kicker. Corporations tend to be pretty tight with it, you know? They think they’ve got to have guarantees to account for every penny. I can’t seem to convince them that genius doesn’t work on deadline.”
. “When genius doesn’t work on deadline, genius gets left in the dust,” Andrew returned promptly. “What good’s a brilliant discovery if someone else has already made it?”
“Technology’s not a game,” Nate complained. “Everyone benefits from the advances, not just the ones who stumble onto them first.”
“It’s not a game. It’s a race. And the ones who stumble onto the improvements first are the ones who receive the funding to pursue the next goal. Competition may not be the noblest of incentives, but you can’t deny that it has played a healthy part in the development of modern technology.”
“I won’t wear a tie,” Nate warned.
Andrew followed the non sequitur easily enough. “If you work for me, you won’t be expected to.”
“I don’t punch a time clock.”
“No. But you’ll be expected to give approximate time estimates—and to live up to them.”
Nate rubbed his chin. “You’ll pay me?”
Andrew’s mouth quirked. “Yeah. I’ll pay you. I want the rights to market your net-search software, and an option on any future designs.”
“You don’t seem to know much about computers,” Nate said skeptically, glancing at Andrew’s equipment.
“I leave that to the hackers on my payroll. What I do know is how to make money with their genius. And I believe in dividing it fairly.”
“Good enough.” Nate pushed himself away from Andrew’s desk and stood. “I’ve gotta go. Things to do.”
“I’ll need your signature on some paperwork.”
“Get it ready. Tell Nicky when and where you want me to sign. I’ll be there,” Nate said as he headed toward the door.
Andrew had worked with other eccentric geniuses, but he didn’t think there’d been another one quite like this guy. He realized they hadn’t even introduced themselves. “I suppose you know I’m Andrew Tyler.”
“Nate Holiday,” the younger man muttered over his shoulder. “Nice to meetcha.”
He paused in the doorway and looked back with a frown, as though he felt there was something else he should say.
Prepared for an awkward thank-you, Andrew was caught off guard when Nate said instead, “You’re sleeping with Nicky?”
“Er, yes. I am.”
Nate nodded shortly. “Last guy was a jerk. You treat her right.”
Andrew decided that the family resemblance between Nate and eccentric, Great-uncle Timbo was a strong one. “I will,” he said.
“Good. She’s all right.”
Andrew would have guessed that the blunt words were very high praise, indeed, from Nathaniel Holiday. “Yes. She’s very much all right.”
Apparently satisfied, Nate made his exit. Andrew didn’t bother to offer to show him out.
Shaking his head, he looked at the chaos on his desk.
What further surprises would Nicole bring into his life?
Surprisingly enough, he found that he was rather looking forward to them.
“HEY, HONEY. How about another beer over here?”
Nicky nodded in response to the summons and hurried with a heavy tray of food to a table of impatient diners. “Here you go, folks,” she said cheerfully, setting heaping plates in front of the two gray-haired couples at the table. “Can I get you anything else?”
“Ketchup,” one of the men requested, looking at the thick cottage fries on his plate.
Nicky patiently lifted the bottle that had been sitting two inches from his elbow and nudged it closer. “Here it is, sir. Anything else?”
“That will be all for now.”
She hurried to serve the man who’d asked for beer.
“Customer at table six,” the cute, pony-tailed hostess informed her as soon as she’d taken care of that request.
Nicky nodded and pulled her order pad out of the red-and-white gingham apron she wore over the restaurant uniform of black jeans and a red T-shirt with the name of the establishment embroidered in white on the left breast. Only one guest was seated at table six, face hidden behind a menu. At Nicky’s approach, he lowered it.
“Andrew!” she said, startled. “What are you doing here?”
“I had a sudden craving for barbecue,” he replied gravely.
She giggled and touched his cheek fleetingly with her fingertips. “You came to check out my new job, didn’t you? I assure you it’s a perfectly safe place to work.”
“I can see that,” he agreed, glancing around at the almost too cute, faux Western decor. The clientele was primarily middle-aged and working class, rather sparse on this Monday evening so soon after the holidays.
He looked back at her. “When did you find this job?”
“This morning. They needed someone immediately for the evening shift, and since I just happened to be available, they hired me.”
“I didn’t realize you were looking for this type of work.”
A bit self-conscious, and wondering if she saw disapproval in his eyes, Nicky shrugged. “I just needed something to get me by until something better comes along. I’ve had experience waiting tables, and I like working with people, so this will be fine for now.”
Andrew looked as though he started to say something and then changed his mind. He hesitated a moment, then said, “I hired your cousin today. At least, I think I did,” he added wryly.
She caught her breath. “You liked Nate’s work?”
“He probably is a genius, as you’ve said. Whether he can work within my requirements remains to be seen.”
“You won’t be sorry, Andrew.” She crossed her fingers as she spoke, knowing Nate too well to make airy guarantees.
Someone behind her loudly cleared a throat. Nicole glanced around, spotted her boss, nodded and turned back to Andrew. “Do you want to order something? I really have to get back to work.”
“I’ll have the pork, with fries and coleslaw.”
“Good choice. Want a beer with it?”
“Ice tea,” he corrected her. “I don’t like beer.”
“Oh. I didn’t know that.” Which, of course, only reminded her of how many more things she still didn’t know about Andrew.
“Now you do,” he said simply.
She smiled. “I’ll be right back with your tea.”
She moved away, then, remembering, stopped and turned back. She cleared her throat. “Er, about the cat...”
He winced and touched his right shoulder. “Yeah. I met the cat.”
“I’ll find it a home, I promise,” she said quickly. “I just haven’t had time yet, what with the new job and all.”
He only nodded. She couldn’t tell if he was annoyed with her for bringing another stray into his life. He didn’t seem to be, she decided in relief.
He really was a very sweet man, she thought with a smile as she hurried back to work. Was it any wonder that she was crazy about him?
Andrew lingered for quite a while after he’d eaten. Even after he’d finished the peach cobbler he’d ordered for dessert, he appeared to be in no hurry to leave, though he didn’t expect Nicky to hover around his table. He seemed content just to sit back, sip his coffee and watch her work.
It finally occurred to her what he was doing. “Andrew,” she said, glancing at her watch. “It’s only eight-thirty. I don’t get off work for another two and a half hours. You can’t sit here the entire time and wait for me.”
“I have nothing else to do this evening. And it’s not as if there’s an urgent need for my table,” he explained, motioning toward the empty tables around them.
The man was impossibly old-fashioned and protective. She should have felt smothered. Instead she was touched—a reaction she tried to hide when she spoke firmly to him. “Andrew, I really don’t need an escort. Please, go home. I’ll be fine.”
His forehead creased. “I don’t like the thought of you being out alone that late.”
“I’ll lock my car. And I’ll come straight home.”
It occurred to her that she had used the word “home” quite casually, considering she was still just a guest in his house. Andrew didn’t seem to notice. He was still frowning, but he sighed in resignation. “I suppose you’re right. You don’t need me hanging around while you work.”
“No. But thank you for being concerned.”
He nodded and stood. “Be careful,” he said a bit gruffly. “I’ll be waiting for you.”
If she’d ever heard sweeter words, she’d long since forgotten. Her smile felt tremulous as she watched him leave.
And then she turned to find that he’d left her a twenty dollar tip for his ten dollar meal. Shaking her head in exasperation, she pocketed the bill, resolved to return it to him later.
She hadn’t asked for his money. She didn’t want it, or need it. She only wanted his love.
And that, she suspected, her smile dimming, was much more difficult for him to give.