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Season for Love Page 10
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“I don’t have any hard feelings, Heather. The past is the past.”
She stepped closer and tried to plant another kiss on Dash, but he moved to the other side of the desk, out of her grasp.
“Heather, getting back together isn’t going to happen. I’m in a relationship now.”
“Oh,” she said with disappointment in her voice. “She’s a lucky woman. I hope you’re happy.”
“No, I’m the lucky one, and yes, I’m extremely happy. I don’t mean to be rude, but I really have to get back to work. Take care of yourself, Heather.”
Dash led her to the door and watched his past walk out of his life for good. He felt no remorse. What had previously been a hurtful experience was now nothing more than a distant memory. Although he and Lark hadn’t discussed exclusivity, he knew without a doubt they had a future together.
He left his office and made his way to Lark’s. She had been out to lunch when he received an urgent call from U.S. Customs. Dash had Lark’s assistant call to alert her to the situation, while he made a few calls in an effort to pinpoint the problem. Heather had momentarily diverted his attention with her regrets. Now he was back on track and needed to tell Lark what he had learned.
When Dash reached Lark’s office, the door was closed, but he could see through the plate-glass window that she was sitting behind her desk and on the phone.
“Hi, Angelica, how’s it going?” he said, standing in front of the assistant’s desk.
Angelica was rapidly typing on her laptop. “Busy. What can I help you with, Dash?”
“I need to talk to Ms. Randolph,” he said, taking a step toward Lark’s door.
“Wait—don’t go in there. She doesn’t want to be disturbed.”
“It’s okay, Angelica. I’m sure Ms. Randolph won’t mind.” Dash knocked on Lark’s door, but he went inside without waiting for an answer. He closed the door behind him so they could have a little privacy, took a seat across from her desk and waited for Lark to finish her telephone call.
“Thanks for your help, Marco. Yes, I’ll let you know once the shipment arrives here at the office. Ciao.”
“Listening to you speak Italian is turning me on.” Dash reached across the desk and tried to touch Lark’s hand, but she pulled it away.
“What do you want, Dash?”
“I talked to the head of customs and...”
“No need to explain. I called Marco and went over the declaration documents with him. We discovered the mistake.”
“Yeah. The values on the forms were incorrect. I spoke with him, too.”
“I’m surprised you had the time to speak with customs.”
“Of course I have time, babe. The second I learned of the delay with customs I was on the phone with them, trying to straighten everything out. We can’t have the fabric sitting in a warehouse for weeks. It’ll throw off the production schedule.”
“Yes, I know all of that, and don’t call me babe. Dash, I think we need to cool it for a while. This is the second mishap in less than a week and I need to keep my focus on work and not on my personal life. There’s a lot riding on this new collection.”
Dash didn’t respond. He felt as if the oxygen were being sucked out of his body. Twenty-four hours ago, they had shared an erotic evening, bonding and getting closer. Suddenly she was talking to him without any emotion, as if he were a stranger. “Lark, what’s going on? Is everything okay?”
“I’m fine. What’s going on with you?”
“What do you mean? I’ve been here at the office all day trying to put out this fire.” Dash was totally perplexed. “Our relationship has nothing to do with the issues we’re having at RR, and taking a step back isn’t the answer. We’re both professionals, and we can handle our work lives as well as our private ones. We’ve already proved that. I don’t understand why you’re suddenly having a change of heart.”
“Look, I really don’t have time for this discussion. I’m running late for a meeting,” she said with a tight voice as she picked her tablet off the desk.
Dash studied her face. Her lips were pursed and a frown line creased her brow. “Lark, what’s really going on? I can see you’re upset. Please talk to me. Whatever is going on, we can work it out.”
“I don’t know how you have time for business when you’re busy entertaining guests on company time,” Lark said and bolted out of the door.
Dash sat there in the wake of her cryptic message, dumbfounded. Lark fled so fast he didn’t get a chance to ask what she meant. He leaned back in his chair, trying to decipher what she had meant. Dash held his chin with his thumb and index finger, pondering the situation.
“Oh, damn! Lark must have seen Heather kissing me through the glass!” Dash slapped the arm of the chair with the palm of his hand.
Heather had come back into his life at the most inopportune time. He could only imagine what had been going through Lark’s mind when she witnessed his ex-girlfriend kissing him. Dash had to clarify the mix-up before Lark slipped away. He had walked into Lark’s office certain they had a future together. But at this point he wasn’t so sure.
Chapter 17
Lark drifted through the rest of the afternoon in a dense fog. Not only was her work life challenging, but her personal life was suddenly in a tailspin through no fault of her own. To prevent herself from crying in front of Dash, she had bolted out of her office, leaving him sitting there looking clueless. Even after Lark had dropped a hint about seeing him with his ex-girlfriend, Dash had seemed unfazed, as if he hadn’t known what she was talking about. Lark wasn’t sure if his innocence was an act or if he honestly didn’t know what she had been referring to. In either case, she needed to put some space between herself and Dash in order to think straight.
Once her meetings for the day were over, Lark left the office. On her way to the elevator, Lark could see Dash was on the phone in his office. He’s probably talking to his girlfriend.
“Whatever,” she mumbled before boarding the elevator.
Outside, Lark kept pace with the bustling crowd of pedestrians along Seventh Avenue. There were tourists taking pictures of the sights in Times Square and posing with life-size cartoon characters, as well as businesspeople carrying briefcases on their way to places unknown. Lark didn’t feel much like going home. She was fearful that a night at home alone would turn into a Pity Party, and she was determined not to shed any tears over Dash. If he wanted to rekindle the flames with his ex, that was his choice. They were not exclusive and he was free to do whatever he pleased. Lark had known that getting involved with the young designer could possibly have heartbreaking consequences, but she hadn’t been prepared for it to happen so soon. Darcy had been right; Lark should never have gotten involved with Dash in the first place. Number one, he was too young for her, and number two, he was her employee. She should have known better, but now it was too late. The best thing she could do at this point was to move forward and forget about her lapse in judgment.
She shrugged off the feeling of doom as she walked inside a popular seafood restaurant. Lark bypassed the hostess stand and went directly to the bar.
“Good evening. What can I get for you?” the bartender asked.
“I’ll have a double Manhattan.”
“Coming right up.”
As Lark waited for her cocktail, she heard her cell phone vibrate. She looked at the caller ID and saw that it was Dash. She swiped the face of the phone, sending his call directly to voice mail. She wasn’t ready to speak with him just yet. Lark needed to get her emotions in check. She didn’t want Dash to hear the jealously in her voice. She turned off the phone and tossed it back into her bag.
“Would you care to run a tab?” the bartender asked, putting a martini glass filled to the brim with garnet-colored liquid in front of her.
“Yes, I would,” Lark
said, reaching into her purse for her wallet.
“You can put her drink on my tab,” a male voice said from behind her.
Lark turned slightly to see who was speaking. She took one look and nearly fell off the bar stool.
“Hello, Lark. How have you been?”
She stared at him before answering. He was as good-looking as ever. He wore a tailored navy blue pin-striped suit that fit his broad shoulders perfectly, a crisp white French-cuffed shirt and a muted pink tie. His chiseled face was clean-shaven and his mingled gray hair was cut to perfection. Lark could feel a knot forming in her throat as his piercing ebony eyes stared deeply into hers. She wasn’t about to get caught up in his charms again. She slowly swiveled back around to the bar and took a sip of her Manhattan.
“I’m well, Edwin,” she said as coolly as she could.
Edwin Spears was the guy she had met online who had wooed her with flowers and false promises of a happily ever after. Only he had already promised that fairy tale to someone else.
There was an empty bar stool next to her, and he took a seat without asking permission. “You’re looking beautiful as ever.”
Lark watched his eyes roam over her and she felt uncomfortable under his gaze. “Don’t start, Edwin. I’m not in the mood for any more of your lies.”
“Lark, please let me apologize for...”
“For what? For not telling me you were engaged?” she interrupted.
“Bartender, I’ll have a dirty martini with three olives,” he said, as if buying time before answering. He returned his attention to Lark. “Yes. I should have told you I was previously engaged, but we were just getting to know each other and I didn’t want to ruin the present by talking about a past relationship.”
“The woman who answered your phone seemed to be under the impression the two of you were on the way down the aisle.”
“We were, and then we broke up. That’s when I met you. Pamela and I have a history of breaking up and getting back together, but the last time she walked out on me, I swore it was over. I was tired of her drama. A friend of mine suggested that I join one of those dating sites. At first I was reluctant, but eventually uploaded my profile. You were the only woman who piqued my interest.”
“Lucky me,” Lark said drily.
“Lark, I honestly wanted to have a relationship with you. You’re beautiful, smart and easy to talk to.”
“If I was so easy to talk to, why weren’t you honest with me? You could have saved me from having that unpleasant exchange with your fiancée. Edwin, I don’t step on other women’s toes by dating men who are taken. That’s a strict rule of mine. I wouldn’t have even accepted flowers from you.”
Edwin put his hand on top of Lark’s and rubbed her skin. “I’m so sorry. Can you please forgive me?”
Lark glanced down at his left hand, which was resting on hers, and quickly snatched her hand away. “Judging by that platinum-and-diamond band on your ring finger, looks like you married the drama.”
Edwin looked sheepish as he moved his hand. “I didn’t have much of a choice.”
“I’m sure she didn’t have a gun to your head.”
“No, but you could say that it was a shotgun wedding. She’s pregnant.”
“Well, isn’t that the oldest trap in the book?”
“We’re married in name only. I’m not in love with her. Once the baby is born I plan to get a divorce. I only married Pamela because I want the child to have my last name.”
“Oh, isn’t that admirable of you,” Lark said drily.
“Are you seeing anyone?”
Lark’s mind flashed back to Dash. She had thought they were headed toward a meaningful relationship but she was wrong. “No, I’m not.”
“Good.”
“Excuse me?”
“Running into each other is fate. You’re not in a relationship and I’m about to get divorced. Lark, there was chemistry between us and I think we deserve a second chance at happiness. Can we go upstairs and talk? I have a room where we can be alone.”
“You’ve got to be kidding. I may be single but I’m not desperate.” Lark scooted her stool back and stood. “Have a good life, Edwin.” She didn’t bother finishing her drink. Lark wasn’t going to waste another second conversing with a married, womanizing liar.
Outside, Lark hailed a taxi. The cab drove up, and she got inside and told the driver her address. As they rode through Midtown traffic, she couldn’t help but think back on the scene she’d witnessed in Dash’s office. It didn’t make sense to her that Dash would kiss his ex-girlfriend inside of his glass-encased office for everyone to see. They had gotten off to a solid start. She was even beginning to have genuine feelings for him. Dash didn’t seem to be the lying, deceitful type, unlike Edwin. Had she totally misjudged Dash’s intentions? Lark needed some answers. Work was intense enough, and she didn’t need to be at odds with her senior designer.
Lark took her phone out of her purse and turned it on. She hit Redial and the line began ringing.
“We need to talk,” she said the second Dash picked up.
“I know. I’ve been trying to call you, but your phone went straight to voice mail. Are you okay?”
“Not really. Can you come over to my place this evening? I don’t want to talk about this over the phone.”
“Of course. I’ll be right over.”
Lark gave Dash her address and disconnected the call. Her stomach began to tighten. What if her moral compass was off and she had put her trust in the wrong man yet again? Lark was beginning to think she would never find the perfect man to settle down with.
Chapter 18
Dash was relieved Lark had returned his call and invited him over. He detected by her cold tone that she was still upset. He could only imagine what must have been going through Lark’s mind when she spotted Heather in his office with her arms draped around his neck, passionately kissing him. It had been only a few hours since Lark had rushed out of her office without giving him a chance to explain, but to Dash it felt like an eternity. He couldn’t wait to talk to Lark so he could clear up the misunderstanding and get back on track with her. There was no way he was going to lose Lark over Heather’s rash act.
He gathered an important document off his desk and slipped it into his messenger bag. While Lark was out of the office, he’d stayed late and cleared up the customs issue. Dash was not only dedicated to the company—he was also loyal to Lark, and tonight he planned to show her just how loyal and dedicated he was.
“Hey, Dash, are you headed out?” Jessica asked, rounding the corner of her cubicle the moment he stepped out of his office.
“I am. Why are you here so late? Did you have any problems with the CAD system?” he asked.
Dash noticed that the voluptuous junior designer had ditched her baggy clothes and had been coming to work dressing sexy. Today she wore an electric-blue, micro-miniskirt that barely covered her thick thighs and a sheer cobalt blouse that exposed her black lace bra.
“No, all of my designs are back in the system. You want to grab a drink? I really could use one after such a stressful day,” she said, giving him a dreamy look.
This chick just won’t give up, Dash thought. “No, thanks.” He started to walk away, but then he turned back. “Oh...and, Jessica, just so you know, I’m seeing someone and I won’t be having a drink with you tonight or any other night.”
Jessica moved closer to Dash, nearly touching her double Ds to his chest. “That’s okay. I don’t mind sharing.”
“Not going to happen. And when you come to work tomorrow, kindly clean your belongings out of the cubicle...”
“You’re firing me?” she asked in shock.
“No, but I’m putting you on notice here and now. If you don’t start acting and dressing professionally, you’re out of here. Je
ssica, you’re a talented designer, and with the spring/summer shows coming up, we need you, but I’m transferring you to Aisha’s team.” Dash had had enough of Jessica’s unwanted advances. It was time to put an end to her constant flirting before her comments got out of hand.
Dash noticed the remorseful expression on Jessica’s face before she turned around and returned to her cubicle.
Outside, Dash went next door to the drugstore and made a vital purchase, which he hoped to use before the night was over.
As the taxi drove along the West Side Highway, Dash reflected back on Lark’s cold tone and how distant she seemed. I hope she’s not inviting me over to end things between us.
The cab exited the highway and made its way down a tony block on Riverside Drive. Dash peered out of the window and marveled at the architecture of the prewar buildings. Having spent a significant amount of time in Europe, he had an appreciation for the craftsmanship of old structures. The car stopped at an eight-storied limestone building with ivory marble steps. He paid the fare and stepped out.
“Hello. I’m here to see Ms. Randolph,” Dash told the doorman.
“Good evening. What’s your name, sir?”
“Dash Migilio.”
After the doorman rang Lark’s apartment, he told Dash where to go. “Ms. Randolph is in penthouse A. Take the elevator to the left.”
As Dash made his way through the ornate marble lobby toward the bank of elevators, he could feel a twinge of doubt creeping into his bones. There was a possibility that Lark would want nothing more to do with him. Dash slightly shook his head. He wasn’t willing to believe this was the end of their brief love affair. He had much more to give, and he refused to go down without a fight.