Czytaj książkę: «All He Needs»

To my niece Tanesha for being there for me.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter 1

Renee Hart stepped out of the conference room. She was going to burst. Without a word, she rushed past the secretaries and headed outside. The glass entry doors were the air pressure variety, yet she slammed them both open. Sunlight and humidity hit her like a hot oven. Renee welcomed it as she would a dive into a tropical pool. She needed a place to conceal the echo that was roaring inside her. She walked fast toward her car, but she knew she wasn’t going to make it.

She got as far as the tree-lined divider that separated the upper parking lot from the lower one. Then she howled. She let the sound inside her go. All of it. Elation erupted like a volcano. Every emotion she’d ever had thundered and rolled with psychedelic pleasure. She was happy, so happy. Tears broke from her eyes and ran over her cheeks.

Renee hadn’t known when she’d accepted the bridal consultant position at Weddings by Diana that it would be the key to her heart’s desire.

Two weeks ago she’d presented her idea to the two partners, and after jumping every time one of them opened her door, they’d finally given her the go-ahead today.

Standing under the trees, Renee smiled at the sky through the water in her eyes. The universe had finally favored her. She stood for several minutes, taking it all in. She didn’t know how much time passed before she felt the press of heat and humidity on her skin again. Back on solid ground, she returned to the office.

Humming one more wedding as if the phrase were the lyrics to a popular song, she pulled up the file for the Griffin–Shephard nuptials on her computer. Twenty minutes later she was still staring at the screen with no idea what she should do next. Yet her mind was racing with things that needed to be done for her new venture.

A bridal magazine. Her own creation. Directed by her. With her ideas. There was so much to be done. Vendors, suppliers, layouts. Did she still have her contacts in the industry? She had to find a place to work, hire people...she needed to talk to Teddy about using her designs in the first issue. The first issue. She nearly screamed.

And a name.

What was she going to call the magazine? She had control, complete control—the partners had given it to her. Releasing a breath, Renee threaded her fingers through her hair, holding her long mane away from her face as her thoughts whirled. A boulder-weight of decisions crushed her shoulders. Where was she going to start?

And how long would it be before Carter found out?

* * *

Two weeks later, Renee’s blood still sang with joy at the prospect of her new job. She was in New York, and she’d had several appointments to get the magazine’s plan started. Initially, she’d been overwhelmed, but a little wine and a pen and paper calmed her down enough to begin cataloging the list of things she needed to accomplish. But before everything could begin rolling, she would have to be a consultant on one more wedding she’d already agreed to do. Then she could give her full attention to Designed for Brides, the name she’d chosen for the magazine.

The sun had set and she should be out with friends, painting the town as many shades of red as were in the rainbow. But she wasn’t. She was walking toward Rockefeller Center, marveling at the heartbeat of the city and remembering the times she’d rushed past all the wide-eyed tourists and crowded commotion without a second thought.

Reaching Radio City, Renee turned toward Fifth Avenue. A couple holding hands raised them in an arch and she ducked through it. Renee looked after the lovers, remembering when that was her. She should have known better than to come to the city. It was too close to Carter. But New York was huge. Nightlife was abundant. There had to be a million places to go on any given night. The chances of her running into Carter Hampshire were minuscule. She was safe. And maybe he wasn’t even in the city anymore. He’d told her he was leaving when he’d said he no longer wanted to see her. Maybe he was still away. Gone to parts unknown.

Renee had departed, too. She’d pulled up stakes and moved to Princeton, NJ, where, to her good fortune, she’d joined Diana Greer and Teddy Granville at Weddings by Diana.

But today she was back in the city she considered home. Out of the blue, her friend, Blair Massey, had called and invited her for dinner. How Blair had known Renee was in the city was a mystery she’d have to uncover later.

Renee had a wedding in Brooklyn tomorrow night. She was here to make sure all the final details were in order, but she couldn’t help feeling nervous about reconnecting with people from her old life. That was how she thought of it—her old life. Back before she’d gone to Princeton, when she’d spent much of her time with people like Blair and Carter.

Her cell phone played the wedding march. She jerked around toward a shop window and stopped. Just being in New York put her on edge. She relaxed and put the device to her ear.

“Blair, I’m on my way,” she said.

“Glad I caught you. I want to change where we meet,” Blair said.

“Well, I’m good and hungry.”

“I just discovered Villa Maria’s is closed for renovations. Let’s meet at Moonraker’s on 48th Street.”

“Fine,” Renee said. “I can be there in fifteen minutes.”

“See you then.”

She felt a little better after hearing Blair’s voice. The night had promise. Renee wouldn’t think about Carter at all—he was out of her life. He’d been out of it for three years. There was no reason to think that on a Friday night, in a city this size, she’d run into the one man she never wanted to see again. He was probably in the Hamptons or out having fun with someone else.

Still, she couldn’t help thinking about him. They’d worked together, then begun dating. She’d been well on her way to falling in love when—when he’d left her. It had been a clean break, nothing drawn out or lingering. No arguments, accusations or tears, yet three years later Renee felt as bereft as she had the day he’d walked out of her life.

She’d cycled through many possible reasons for their breakup: he wanted to marry someone else, his family disapproved of her, there was another woman, maybe he’d discovered he had a child. The truth was, she just didn’t know. And without that closure, her wounded heart had no chance of healing.

* * *

Carter Hampshire sat forward in his chair and snapped the trade magazine as if he could shake the words off the page. Dropping it on the desk, he steepled his fingers as he looked down over the story. It was a small notice, but the name jumped off the page. He hadn’t heard about her in three years. Carter looked down again. Of all the print on that page, his eyes went straight to her name.

Renee Hart, former director of the wedding magazine division at Hampshire Publications, is planning to start her own magazine for brides. The title for the new venture has not been determined at this writing, but Ms. Hart is actively making the rounds.

“Damn,” Carter cursed. It couldn’t be true. But in his heart, he knew it was something she was fully capable of doing. It wasn’t inevitable, but it was logical for Renee. If she hadn’t gone to work for one of his competitors, she’d be striking out on her own.

Carter walked to the windows on the 38th floor of the building that bore his family name. The night lights of New York emulated the postcards tourists bought every year.

“Renee Hart.” He spoke her name aloud, checking the feel of it on his lips, the sound of it in the empty air. After three years, she still haunted him. A benevolent ghost, whose face and figure was as corporeal as smoke. But in his mind she was almost touchable.

And now she was returning to New York. It made sense that she would return to the city—New York was a publishing powerhouse.

Carter returned to his desk and picked up the office phone. He dialed a number and waited. Blair Massey answered on the first ring.

“Good, you’re still there,” he said without saying hello. It was seven o’clock, but Blair often worked late. He and Blair had known each other for years. She was a wizard at what she did, and she had mentored Renee. If anyone knew the whole story, it would be Blair.

“I was just on my way out.”

“Meet me in the lobby.” It was a suggestion, and Carter tried to keep the command tone out of his voice. He hung up.

Blair was waiting when he stepped out of the small paneled room. The fifty-year-old woman looked serious, although she was as impeccably dressed as any model on the fashion pages.

“Carter, I was trying to tell you I already have dinner plans,” Blair said. She checked her watch. “And I’m already late.”

He took her arm and moved her out of the parade of people. “Where are you eating?”

“At Moonraker’s.”

“Good, I’ll walk with you.”

He rushed her along, heading for the door and 48th Street. Blair stopped abruptly and moved to the side. “What’s going on?”

“Renee Hart,” he answered.

Blair’s expression didn’t alter more than a millimeter, but the slow breath she exhaled told him she knew.

“What about Renee?” Blair hedged.

“Is she going into competition with us?”

“Where’d you hear that?”

“It doesn’t matter. Answer the question.”

“She’s starting a magazine. It’s small stuff. We have no need for alarm.”

“I’m not alarmed.”

“Then why did you rush down from the 38th floor?”

“The news came as a surprise. How long have you known?”

“A couple of weeks,” she said.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

She searched his face a long time. Carter held his expression still.

“It didn’t seem that important. When the Weaver Group opened a magazine that competed with our how-to series on home improvement, you didn’t consider it newsworthy. Why is Renee’s small entry into the bridal market cause for concern? She hasn’t even chosen the name of the publication yet. Unless your interest has nothing to do with the business...”

Blair was aware of Carter’s past relationship with Renee. He’d never spoken a word to her about it, but Renee was her friend, and women talked.

She checked her watch. “I’m going to be late. Carter, if you’re really interested, I’ll find out what I can and call you after dinner.”

“Find out?” he said. “Is Renee here? Are you having dinner with her?”

Blair looked at the sky, exasperated that she’d let him guess who she was meeting.

“I’m going,” he said and took her arm. Carter should have thought better of it, but when had he ever been rational where Renee was concerned?

“Carter,” Blair said. “She may not want to see you.”

Carter stopped and thought about that a moment. “More than likely, she doesn’t.”

* * *

Renee loved to walk in Manhattan. The theater crowds were assembling for the eight o’clock performances. While the sun wouldn’t set for another two hours, the streets looked like a parade was about to begin. Cabs blew horns, creating their own music, and Renee smiled as she took in the familiarity. She loved New York. She’d missed it. While Princeton had the university and its own personality, New York was incomparable.

Reaching the restaurant, Renee pulled the door open. She stopped the moment she stepped through it. Blair wasn’t alone.

She was sitting with Carter.

Renee’s throat went dry. Even with his back to her, Renee knew it was him. She wanted to turn and run. Every fiber in her body screamed at her to go, back out and walk away. No, run away. But her feet refused to follow instructions.

Then it was too late. Carter glanced into the mirrored surface in front of him and made eye contact. Spasms of memories raced into her. Time that had stood still for three years was unleashed. Memories of their entwined bodies on rumpled sheets broke, freely expanding into a new and confusing world.

Renee mentally shook herself. Carter was her past, her old life—not her present, and certainly not her future. She smiled widely and waved, and Carter turned around. The restaurant was dimly lit. She couldn’t see the defined features of his expression, but she was sure he’d known she was coming. Blair must have told him, invited him to attend dinner with them.

Her feet suddenly got the message and she moved toward the table. Seeing Carter again had to happen sometime. She would have liked to have been more prepared for it, but tonight was as good a night as any.

He stood as she approached the table. Blair came around and hugged her.

“Carter, this is an unexpected surprise,” Renee said. She put her hand out for him to shake, warding off any chance that he might try to hug or kiss her. She didn’t want even the simplest embrace from him.

“How are you, Renee?” he asked.

His voice could be her undoing. It was as deep as she remembered it—in the dark of night, after they’d made love, she loved listening to him talk. She thought of the way the sound surrounded her, caressed her like a physical being that could capture and hold her. Renee felt the heat rise in her face and the burn of her ears. She forced the thoughts back.

“Let’s sit down,” Blair said.

Blair returned to the banquette seat. Renee took a step to follow her, but Carter pulled out the chair next to him. She looked at it for a second before sitting down. This close to him, she could feel the warmth of his hands near her shoulders.

“Blair tells me you’ve been working in New Jersey,” Carter began as soon as the waiter took her drink order.

She glanced at Blair, a silent admonishment in her eyes. “Weddings by Diana,” she told him. “It’s a consulting firm. I thought I’d see what the other side of the table looked like.”

“But now you’re crossing back over,” Blair spilled.

Renee wanted to throttle her. She quickly glanced at Carter. He was staring at her and didn’t appear to have heard Blair’s comment. Carter was a key partner in his family’s magazine company, and Hampshire Publications had a division dedicated to the bridal industry. Renee had worked there. Along with bridal magazines, there were divisions covering every other aspects of publication. To Carter, her small entry into the market with Weddings by Diana must seem like a teardrop in the ocean.

“What do you do there?”

“I’m a wedding consultant, and now I’m working on a special project.” She wanted to be as vague as possible. “How’s Hampshire doing? Are you back there?”

He nodded. “I’ve been back a few months.”

“I see,” she said. But she didn’t see. She hadn’t seen it when he’d left, and she didn’t understand it now. What was he doing here? Why had Blair brought him? He couldn’t want to see her again, not after what he’d told her when he’d left. “How’s the staff?” She needed something to say to get her mind off their relationship.

“There’s been a lot of turnover,” Blair answered. “At one point, I had to go back and fill in.”

“But things have stabilized now,” Carter added.

“Of course, if you want to return...” Blair sat forward and looked her straight in the eye. “I’m sure I could find a place for you.”

The waiter arrived with their drinks, preventing her from replying.

“Are you open to that?” Carter asked when it was just the three of them.

“Open to what?” she hedged.

“Returning to Hampshire Publications.”

Renee wondered if that was the real reason he was at this dinner. Had he come with Blair to ask her to return? And why? The two of them would not be picking up things where they had left off three years earlier. And after the way they’d parted, how could he expect that she would be open to working for him again?

“I’m satisfied where I am for the moment,” she said. It was good practice to leave the door open to possibilities, so she did. But she had no intention of ever walking through that door, or even of ever seeing him again.

Their dinner arrived and Renee remembered little of the conversation after that. She was concentrating on the mechanics of eating. Cutting the steak, lifting it to her mouth, chewing and swallowing. Carter’s presence unnerved her. Blair should have prepared her for his appearance. The conversation turned to their lives together, the life before. Carter spoke of the long nights in the office closing the magazine, the minor crises they’d averted just in time, the cold pizza they’d consumed when issues took three times as long to finish as expected.

Renee’s mind tried to wander to other places—memories of putting the magazine to bed right before she and Carter went to bed—but she blocked those as much as she could. She smiled, laughed at the appropriate places and made a comment now and then to let them know she was listening.

By the time the waiter took dessert orders, Renee noticed she’d only pushed the food around on her plate. She refused dessert but accepted the coffee.

“Renee, how do you find working as a bridal consultant?” Blair turned the subject to the present.

Taking a sip of her coffee, she took a moment to answer. “The brides are a delight,” she said honestly. “Their wedding day is the most important thing in their lives, and it was a joy making it happen.”

“You didn’t find the whole thing a little stressful?” Carter asked.

“No more than the stress of getting a monthly magazine out. For a wedding, I have an entire year to get all the details in place.”

What was he trying to do? Renee wondered. Why was he deliberately baiting her? She wasn’t the one who ran out on their relationship.

“What about yourself?” Blair commented. “Did working with all those real-life brides make you want to be one?”

Thankfully, Renee was not holding her cup. It was the last question she expected. She felt more than saw Carter turn to listen to her answer. Color flooded her face and burned up her neck to her ears.

“No,” she said. It was a lie and she hoped neither Blair nor Carter could tell. “There are too many details that need attention for me to think of anything except the bride’s plan. I never even thought of what I might want. Usually I’m just suggesting something to the bride or her mother.”

“You must be the exception to the rule,” Blair stated.

“What rule?”

“The one that says every woman plans her wedding the moment she enters puberty. I remember choosing my wedding gown while I was still in high school.” She smiled as if the happy memory was only a day past. Blair had been married for seventeen years. Renee knew that Blair wanted that euphoric wedding feeling to last forever. That’s why she’d gone to Hampshire Publications and had been there so long. When Renee had applied for the job in the bridal department, right out of college, it was Blair who’d given her the opportunity to prove herself. And it was Blair’s enthusiasm that had rubbed off on Renee.

“One of the partners, Theresa Granville, designs gowns,” Renee said.

“I’ve heard of her,” Blair said. “She’s making quite a name for herself.”

Renee nodded. “She’s had a couple of designs that stopped me in my tracks.”

“So, you’re interested in getting married.” Carter stated it as if it was fact.

“A lot of people are.” She skirted the question. “If they weren’t, we’d all be out of a job.”

He nodded, using that up-and-down movement of his head that was so slight that she wouldn’t have seen it if she wasn’t already familiar with it. It was Carter’s way of conceding the point.

The waiter returned with a pot of coffee. She refused a refill. It was time to put some distance between herself and Carter Hampshire.

“I’m afraid I’d going to have to eat and run,” she began. “I have a wedding in the morning so I have to be up early checking the final details,” Renee lied. Her wedding was actually in the evening, but she wanted some time to go over every detail. It was her last consulting job and she wanted it to turn out perfect.

Renee stood. Carter stood, too.

“Blair, thank you for dinner. We’ll have to do this again sometime.” She gave Blair a look that said, alone.

“Thank Carter. He’s paying.”

Renee looked at Carter, but said nothing.

“I’ll see you to your hotel,” Carter said.

“That won’t be necessary. It’s not far and Blair needs the escort much more than I do.”

Blair stood up. “I have an escort,” she said. At that moment, Campbell Massey came through the door as if on cue. Blair went into his arms and they kissed. Then he turned to Renee.

“Renee, it’s great to see you.” He swept her into his arms for a bear hug. He kissed her on the cheek and set her back with a happy smile. Renee liked Camp. She’d liked him from the moment they’d met almost ten years ago. “You are just as beautiful as ever.”

“And you are just as much a flatterer as you’ve ever been.”

“No flattery,” he said. “Isn’t she beautiful, Carter?”

Both Blair and Camp looked to Carter for an answer. Renee turned from Camp, her body suddenly going cold.

“She’s quite ravishing,” he stated, his voice low.

To her ears it sounded hungry, sexually hungry. Her knees threatened to turn to water.

“Well, we’d better be off,” Blair said, taking Camp’s arm. “Carter, you will see Renee back to her hotel?”

He nodded. The couple headed for the door, Carter and Renee trailed them. Out on the street, Renee turned to him. “I know you have a long way to go. You don’t have to go with me. I’m not that far from here.”

Carter looked over her head. “The Westley?” he said. It was an independent hotel. Renee liked patronizing small businesses. However, she hadn’t realized she was so transparent to Carter.

Especially after three years.

But the truth was, he was wrong. She wasn’t at the Westley, but there was no need to correct him.

Carter put his hand on her lower back to guide her toward the hotel. She stepped aside, forcing him to drop it. She walked quickly toward the hotel. It was merely three blocks from the restaurant. They covered the distance in silence. Outside the entrance Renee turned to Carter.

“Thank you. It was nice seeing you again.” The words were false, but Renee wanted to get away from him as quickly as she could. She turned. Carter caught her arm and pulled her around.

“I want to talk to you.”

“I have an early call. I really need to go,” she said.

“I remember when we spent long nights together and still made deadline.”

Her head whipped up and she stared at him. “We were different people then,” Renee said. She was in love then. He was not.

Carter pushed open the door to the hotel. He was right behind Renee. She had to move or feel his body form-fitted to hers. Avoiding the bar, she went to a collection of chairs near the back wall.

“What is it you want to talk about?” Renee asked.

He sat, leaned forward and rubbed his hands together as if it was cold. Then he looked her straight in the eye. “Are you sure you want to continue with weddings? You could just as easily return to Hampshire.”

It wouldn’t be easy and she knew it, even if he didn’t. Renee took a moment, probing Carter’s face for something to give her a clue to his motives. She found nothing. But she felt there was a meaning under his words. She couldn’t pull it into focus, but Carter wanted something from her. She just didn’t know what it was—yet.

“Renee?” he prompted.

“I’ve already given you my answer.”

“But have you thought about what I’m offering?”

“No, Carter. Why don’t you tell me? Just what is it you’re offering that you think will entice me back to Hampshire Publications?”

Carter adjusted his position, clasping his hands between his knees. Renee’s instinct was to move back, allowing herself more personal space. At the last moment, she decided to go on the offensive. She moved in closer as if they were conspirators about to exchange the plans for a secret weapon.

“First, you’re in charge of everything.” He spread his hands. “The entire bridal division is yours.”

“And I would report directly to you? That is, I assume you’re the head of editorial.”

He nodded. Renee thought she saw the faintest look of smugness on his face.

“We’ve worked together before and that proved beneficial.”

“That’s not a positive,” she told him and was rewarded by seeing his face fall. It was only for a moment, and only someone who knew his features intimately would have noticed it.

“Whatever you’re being paid by that little business, I’ll double.”

Renee stood up. Carter got to his feet, too. She didn’t like the way he’d insulted her business, as if only a huge company like his was worthwhile. Pointing out that his father had begun the huge empire would have been a waste of breath.

“Money,” she said. “You think you can find my price, and I’ll just return to Hampshire Publications.” She shook her head, a satisfied smile edging the corners of her lips up. “I’m not for sale, Carter. And especially not to a Hampshire.”