Satin Pleasures by Karen Docter Page B

at the headache lodged behind her eyes, then rummaged through her desk drawer to find the pills the clinic doctor prescribed after her accident on the bridge last week. She wanted to go home and crawl under the covers until morning, but she had a business dinner party and one last tenant appointment to get through.
    Arnold Sawyer. Considering he was the instigator of her most recent problems, Sawyer had been markedly hard to pin down to an appointment. Then, out of the blue, he’d called demanding to meet before the day was out. He would shoot her down when he arrived. She knew it.
    Therefore, she had every excuse for her confusion an hour later when Sawyer greeted her with an effusive smile. “It took time to get everything worked out with my people, but we’re all set now.”
    “Set for what?”
    “The bazaar, among other things.”
    “Other things?”
    Sawyer held up a negligent hand. “I’ll admit, when McDonald first came to me with your suggestions, I thought you were both out of your minds. But, with planning, we’ve revamped our participation in your little scheme.”
    Tess felt as if she’d walked into the conversation backwards. “Are you saying you support my marketing program again?”
    Excitement crept into his voice as his glasses slipped down his nose. “You’ll love what we’ve arranged. It’ll cap off your program and allow us to put forth a fresh image.”
    Disbelief washed through her as Sawyer revealed his plan. His store would use the bazaar to put on a fashion show. The floor staff and family members would model the sale merchandise in a runway format. The concept was innovative. It was not her idea.
    She cringed. Sawyer hadn’t changed his mind because of something she’d done or said. Once again, Dan had gotten there first. Why?
    “I’m glad we worked this out, Tess.” Sawyer rose and shook her limp hand. “Between you and McDonald, I know we’ll have a successful summer. Tell Dan he’s got my vote at the next merchants meeting. The two of you will make a great team.”
    Tess watched the short, rotund man leave her office, silenced by the new knowledge slowly, painfully unwinding in her head. For some reason she couldn’t fathom, Dan must have decided to take on the empty Merchants Organization presidential chair.
    She was pleased, of course. The group had been rudderless too long, and Dan was a natural leader. But, why didn’t he mention it when he sat in her office on Monday or when she called him Tuesday to thank him for the balloons and chocolate?
    Her head pounding, she stared blindly at the last of the balloons suspended over the credenza. She should be surprised at his maneuvering. At the very least, she ought to be angry his friendship didn’t extend to confidence in her and her plan. All she felt was betrayed. Something deep inside her began to hurt. Something fragile and too easily broken.
    Sweet mercy, when had Dan McDonald claimed such a large piece of her heart?
    ***
    Dan was satisfied with his day’s work when he backed his truck into the cliff house garage that Friday night. More than once since his arrival, he’d had to reassure his aunt he wasn’t slipping into bad habits. He didn’t intend to fall into that trap again, although he’d pushed his limits this past week. Settling into a new job and a new home, even temporarily, had proven as much a challenge as putting Tess Emory from his mind.
    He glanced over his shoulder at the loaded truck bed and winced when a back muscle protested. “Tell you what, Colby,” he muttered to the dog beside him. “Next time we move, you make sure the moving company doesn’t have personnel problems.”
    His belongings had made it as far as the warehouse in San Jose, an hour’s drive away, when a strike shut down deliveries. Impatient – there was barely time to unpack before he’d have to pack again – he opted not to wait. He’d hired a pair of college students to help move furniture, but the final truckload of