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“I wish I could see you right now. But you know that you can’t come here.”
“Oh, I know it’s out of the question. I have an enormous stake in this merger, too, and wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize it. It’s just that I miss you. Guess I’ll have to be satisfied with my trusty vibrator.”
“Do you have enough batteries?”
“I’m never without.”
“Oops, I hear Daniel coming. Must go. I’ll see you when I get back to the city.”
“Later, darling.”
He clicked off, then added, “Love you, too, sweetheart,” to a dead phone. He turned just in time to see Daniel entering the living room. “Oh, damn! That was Maris. She wouldn’t let me call you to the phone, afraid she’d be interrupting a nap. Want me to get her back? She said they were about to sit down to dinner, but I can probably catch—”
“No, no. How is she?”
“Working hard on the manuscript. Says it’s awfully hot. The weather, not the manuscript,” he added with a grin. “Misses us terribly, otherwise fine.”
“Then don’t bother her.” Daniel settled into one of the easy chairs and propped his cane beside it. “I worked up quite a thirst during my nap.”
Noah laughed easily as he crossed to the table that served as a bar. “Thirsty work, naps. Double scotch?”
“On the rocks, please.”
“I called the deli in town. They’ll soon be delivering double-thick Reuben sandwiches, potato salad made with real mayo, chocolate cake and vanilla ice cream for dessert.”
“God, I love the bachelor life,” Daniel said as he accepted the drink from his son-in-law. “What a good idea this was.”
* * *
Maris was glad she had changed for dinner because for the first time since her arrival, it was being served in the formal dining room, the hanging ghost notwithstanding.
She was wearing a gray silk dress she had bought early in the season at Bergdorf’s, thinking it would be perfect for dinner out in the country. She reasoned that the lightweight fabric, slip-style bodice, and flared skirt were also perfect for dinner at home in an antebellum plantation house. She had accessorized it with a choker of pale coral beads.
Mike had laid a beautiful table. Fragrant magnolia blossoms had been arranged in a crystal bowl in the center of the table, flanked by silver candlesticks with white tapers. He’d used china, silver, and crystal stemware that represented good taste and a sizable investment.
“This is lovely, Mike,” she remarked as he held the lyre-back chair for her.
“Don’t be too impressed,” Parker said from his place at the head of the table. “It’s all rented for the evening.”
“Yes, from Terry’s Bar and Grill,” Mike said drolly. “Besides smoking baby back ribs, he does a huge formal party rental business.”
She laughed. “Wherever it came from, I like it.”
“It all belonged to Parker’s mother,” Mike informed her as he poured the wine, forgetting that he’d delegated that job to her.
She looked toward Parker for confirmation. “The tableware was handed down through generations of Mom’s family. It was bequeathed to either the first daughter or daughter-in-law. My mother had neither, so it came to me by default. It’s been in storage since she died. This is the first time it’s been used.” He slid a glance toward Mike. “Can’t imagine what the special occasion is.”
Maris raised her wineglass. “To the completion of Envy.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Mike raised his glass.
“It’s not finished yet,” Parker reminded them, but he raised his glass all the same.
The crystal stems sounded like chimes when they clinked them together. The Pinot Grigio was cold and crisp, a perfect complement to the meal Mike had prepared.
Parker might have disavowed that this was a special occasion, but she noticed that he had changed for dinner, too. She wondered if Mike had mandated the extra grooming or if it had been voluntary. Although his only nod toward styling his hair was to rake his fingers through it, the tousled look suited him. He had recently shaved; she could smell the sandalwood soap. He was wearing his customary casual pants, but his shirt was tucked in. The sleeves were rolled back to just below his elbows, revealing his strong forearms.
The candlelight blurred the line
