Destiny Unknown Page 4

  Chapter Three

  "He doesn't understand an artistic temperament."

  Loren McVeigh, all six feet of him, stood next to Bernadette pouting like a little boy who couldn't get his way. And the man opposite him was acting just as childish. Benjamin Waite had come to her office whining that Loren had changed the window displays without consulting him. Mediating arguments between the two was becoming a daily occurrence.

  "This has got to stop," she said, knowing the problem was more than one man not understanding the other's "artistic" temperament. Straight-laced Ben, who attended church on a regular basis, who was nearing forty and married with two children, also didn't understand Loren's life-style.

  "Maybe he considers it inconsequential," Ben argued, "but we did decide to emphasize family this Easter. It was your idea, in fact."

  "It's a bunny family," Loren said. "They're showing togetherness by holding hands."

  "They're both dressed in men's clothing."

  Loren raised his neatly trimmed eyebrows. "So?"

  "All right, enough." She'd heard this before. They were getting nowhere. "Ben, you know Loren has the freedom to change the window designs if he feels it's necessary. But, Loren, if you want bunnies, I suggest you add one more, dressed as a female, and drop the hand-holding. This is Grand Rapids, not San Francisco."

  "Oh fine, take his side." Loren lifted his chin. "One of these days, I'll be working for a company that has stores outside of this narrow-minded community."

  "Feel free to apply anytime." Ben smiled smugly.

  "I said, enough!" Bernadette knew this would lead to another argument. "And in the future, Ben, take care of this yourself. You weren't hired to come running to me every five minutes."

  "No, I was hired for your job." He lifted his chin as high as Loren had and marched off.

  Loren gave her one more look of disdain and headed in the opposite direction.

  "Some days you just can't win."

  Her thoughts exactly, but Bernadette hadn't expected to hear them voiced aloud and only a few feet away. The sound of the familiar male voice sent a shiver of excitement down her spine, and she quickly turned to face Cody Taylor.

  He smiled, and her stomach did a flip.

  How a man so clearly opposite her tastes could have this effect on her was a puzzle. Nothing had changed. His hair was still far too long, he still wore the earrings and the gold chain, the scuffed boots and the leather jacket, and his jeans were still worn to the point of being threadbare. Although he had shaved and was undeniably good looking, there was nothing about him that should have had her heart pounding or a blush rising to her cheeks.

  There was no reason at all to feel lightheaded.

  "I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by," he said.

  She watched his lips move, remembering his kiss two nights ago. He'd taken her by surprise, and it was over before she'd realized what he was doing. By the time she'd snapped out of her stupor, he was out the door.

  Oh then she'd told him what she thought of him. Standing in her kitchen, her only companion Mopsy, she'd said lots of things to Cody Taylor, none of them flattering. His ears must have been burning.

  She hoped they'd burned so hot he couldn't sleep that night, for he'd certainly ruined her sleep. It had been embarrassing enough to look in the mirror and see the smudges of printers' ink on her cheeks and the line of green across her forehead. It was all that darn dog's fault. Bernadette remembered cleansing her face and starting with the masque. That's when Mopsy erupted into a barking frenzy. Afraid her neighbors would complain, she went to check on Mopsy, and in the kitchen, had seen the bottle of mineral oil, and had remembered she needed to give Mopsy a teaspoon full. The rest was history.

  That night and since, she'd relived every word Cody had said, every look he'd given her. Over and over, she'd replayed that moment his lips had touched hers. Never had such a passing kiss affected her so deeply.

  "I didn't want to disturb you," he said, bringing her back to the present. "Not while you were dealing with those two."

  Bernadette nodded, not sure she could speak.

  "The one sounds very resentful. What happened? You take his job?"

  "Basically." The word came out stronger than she'd expected, encouraging her to go on. "Before Parker hired me, Ben was the general manager. The man is great when it comes to ideas, but he's not good at making decisions. Parker didn't want to fire him, however, so when he gave me this job, he created another position for Ben, one that best uses his talents."

  "Yet Ben isn't happy."

  "I thought he was." Just as she'd thought she was happy, contented, and on-top-of-the-world. That was before meeting Cody. Now? She glanced down at his jeans. "Are you here to buy some new clothes? We're running some good sales. Or did you change your mind about that job offer?"

  He grinned. "I'm here to take you to lunch."

  "To lunch?" She'd thought they'd settled that. "I turned down your invitation. Remember?"

  "That was Monday. It's now Wednesday, noontime, and you do need to eat."

  "But not necessarily with you." Especially since seeing him had her stomach tied in knots.

  He continued grinning. "Not necessarily, but ask yourself, why not?"

  "Perhaps because I don't want to."

  "Or perhaps because you're afraid to."

  Her chin went up. "Why would I be afraid?"

  "You tell me. All we're talking about is lunch. An hour at the most. Time enough for you to tell me how your dog is doing."

  "I don't need an hour to tell you that. Mopsy's doing fine, thank you. Tearing up my apartment." Bernadette had decided a little loneliness was safer for the dog than bringing Mopsy back to the store. Last night, however, when she'd arrived home, she'd questioned that decision. In less than twelve hours, Mopsy had unwound an entire roll of toilet paper, had emptied all of the wastebaskets, shredding every paper they contained, and had demolished Bernadette's favorite pair of slippers.

  "She's probably bored," Cody said. "You can tell she's a smart little thing. Isolate her in one room and get her some toys. So why don't you want to have lunch with me? Because of my appearance?"

  "Your appearance?" They'd bounced from dogs to clothes. He changed subjects as fast as her sister did.

  Bernadette glanced down at his jeans, the knees worn to a pale blue. She hated to admit it, but his appearance did have something to do with her refusal.

  "Afraid I'll spoil your image." he challenged.

  "This has nothing to do with my image."

  "Good." He smiled. "I certainly wouldn't want to think you didn't want to be seen in the company of a working man. Especially a working man between jobs."

  He'd raised his voice, and Bern cringed. People around them were looking. "You don't have to yell."

  "Am I yelling?" He glanced around, smiling at the women looking his way. "You—" He motioned to one who was wearing a stained winter jacket, polyester slacks, and down-at-the-heels winter boots. "What do you think?" he asked her. "Of a store manager who doesn't appreciate people who have to live within a budget, who can't afford designer made clothes?"

  The woman looked at Bern, and Bernadette suddenly wished she weren't wearing a Liz Claiborne suit and Gucci pumps. A customer who thought a store out of her price range wouldn't be back. The idea was to draw in the customers, not drive them away.

  "We have some very good sales," she said to the woman. "Going on right now." Under her breath, she answered Cody. "All right. I'll go to lunch with you. But that's it. After that, we go our separate ways and you don't bother me again."

  "If that's the way you want it." He had the grin of a winner.

  "That's exactly the way I want it."

  * * *

  Cody went with Bernadette to the office area on the second floor. Separated from the sales floor by a wall of thick bull's-eye glass blocks, the space consisted of the accounting department and management. The executive secretary's desk guarded a waiting area, holding b
ack intruders from the president's and general manager's offices. Bernadette got her coat and boots and told the secretary where she'd be. She didn't introduce him.

  She barely acknowledged his presence when they rode the escalator back down. Her stiff posture and one word answers to his questions yelled her tension and displeasure. He knew he was pushing it again, and he wasn't sure why.

  Sure, she was beautiful, but he'd walked away from a lot of beautiful women without thinking twice. And yes, the suit she was wearing was moss green, but that didn't mean she was an enchanted princess waiting for him to break some spell. There was no good reason for him to have come to the store and goaded her into having lunch with him, other than he hadn't been able to forget her since leaving her apartment.

  He was pushing because she was driving him crazy.

  "I thought we'd eat at one of the restaurants around here," he said, once they were out of the store. "Do you mind walking?"

  "Whatever you'd like."

  The icicles hanging from her words were as cold as the air surrounding them. The February thaw had been short-lived, and snow was predicted for that night. He saw her pull her coat closer and wondered if it would be better to take his truck. Then he remembered all the equipment he had piled on the front seat. It would take an hour just to clean a spot for her.

  Besides, women like Bernadette Sanders didn't want to be seen riding around town in a pickup. A Cadillac or BMW better suited their image. It all came down to making the proper impression. He knew that. People on their way up drove the right cars, dined in the right restaurants.

  Grinning, Cody headed for the square. He knew exactly where he would take her.

  * * *

  "We can't go in here." Bernadette stared at the door Cody held open.

  This was turning out worse than she'd expected. How could she walk into this restaurant with Cody by her side? Some of Grand Rapids most influential businessmen ate lunch at Reserve Wine and Food. "Look, there's no need for you to spend a lot for lunch. I'm really not that hungry. Let's go back to that coffee shop near the store."

  He continued holding the door open. "Eat as little or as much as you like. Don't worry about the cost."

  Looking into the restaurant, she desperately groped for excuses. "You can see the place is filled. I'm sure there will be a long wait for tables."

  "We won't know until we ask, will we?"

  He didn't move, and his smile said he wasn't going to change his mind. Considering his earlier behavior, she didn't doubt he'd make a scene if she refused to go in, and with the patrons inside the restaurant able to see them, Bernadette decided to give up the battle.

  "Oh, all right." She marched past Cody and into the chic, upscale modern restaurant. All she could hope was no one she knew would be eating here today.

  To her surprise the hostess smiled and nodded when Cody asked if a table was available. Bernadette kept her gaze locked on the woman's back as she led them to a table. Every step of the way, Bern prayed none of the diners recognized her, and as soon as she was seated, she began reading her menu. Not once did she look around.

  "It's okay," Cody said. "I'm sure no one will suspect we're having an affair."

  The menu fell from her hands. "Affair?"

  The word came out louder than she'd expected, and she quickly lowered her voice and picked up her menu. "We are not having an affair, Mr. Taylor. We are not even having a—"

  She stopped as the busboy approached to pour their water. All the while the young man was at the table, she smiled and pretended to study the menu. Internally, her mind was racing, and the moment the busboy stepped away, she ground out her words. "I don't know what you're trying to prove, but I don't find this funny."

  Calmly, Cody leaned back against the booth's dark green upholstered seat. "Have you ever heard the story of the Golden Chain?"

  "No." She glanced at the gold chain around his neck, and he touched it.

  "My sister used to tell me the story when I was young. It's about three brothers. The two older brothers are smart and able. The younger is a dreamer and clumsy. They call him Dumb John and make fun of him all the time. But he has dreams that one day he will do something grand and noble."

  "And of course he does," Bernadette said, trying to anticipate the point of his story.

  "Of course." Cody grinned. "But not until he's a grown man. That's when he and his brothers go on a quest for a chain that will exactly fit their father's forge. The brother who comes back with the right size chain will inherit the father's blacksmith business. They have one month to succeed. One brother heads west, one east, and Dumb John heads north. Soon, he comes across a green skinned woman."

  "Green skinned? Like little green men from Mars?"

  "No, like an enchanted princess who's under a spell that can only be broken if someone sleeps in her cave three nights and doesn't speak a word between the hours of midnight and one."

  "And naturally, our friend John volunteers." Bernadette could now see where the story was headed. She just didn't understand why Cody was telling her.

  "John figures he's been called names all of his life and has had to keep quiet. Why not give it a try? So for three nights he sleeps in the cave, and between midnight and one, all matter of goblins and spirits come, some even impersonating him. And for three nights, he resists saying anything, thus breaking the spell and turning the green-skinned woman back into a beautiful princess."

  "And they live happily ever after."

  "Not yet. There's still the matter of the golden chain."

  "Ah yes, the golden chain." Again, her gaze went to the chain he wore. "One like that?"

  "No, the one the princess gives Dumb John once she's back to her royal self is big enough to go around a forge. You see, the princess marries Dumb John, making him a king, but when the end of the month comes, he remembers his original quest and knows his father and brothers will say he failed. Since the princess had promised to help him if he helped her, she gives him a special golden chain. He then puts on his torn and tattered clothing, takes the chain and returns to his father's shop, where to his father's and brothers' surprise, the golden chain—and only the golden chain—fits the forge."

  "Thus Dumb John takes over the business, dreams away the profits, and ends up going Chapter Eleven?"

  Cody chuckled. "You're a cynic."

  "So I've been told." It was safer than getting hurt.

  "Do you want to hear the end of this story or not?"

  "I have a feeling I have no choice. So how does the story end?"

  "Well, Dumb John's brothers are jealous and throw him into a hen house, where he stays until the princess shows up, looking for him."

  "As usual, takes a woman to save the day."

  Cody laughed. "I never thought of it that way."

  "Being a man, you wouldn't. I can tell you, no woman would have gone back to work at a forge."

  "Maybe not, but Dumb John had a point to prove. He needed to show his father and brothers that he wasn't dumb. And once the princess found him, he went with her, but not until he again visited his father and brothers, this time dressed in his regal finery. It's said that after that, that his brothers called themselves Dumb Will and Dumb Hans, and no one understood why."

  "Cute." She'd admit that and pointed at his gold chain. "Does that mean you found your green princess?"

  Cody grinned. "Well, I thought I had the other night."

  Automatically, she touched her forehead, remembering the green masque she'd started to put on Monday night. "I'm hardly a princess. Besides, you already have the golden chain."

  "So I got ahead of myself."

  His fairy tale was becoming more personal. "I don't need your help."

  "Are you sure? You seemed very worried about some problems the other night."

  "Minor disruptions at the store," she lied. "I simply want to make a good impression while the boss is away."

  "You do seem very concerned about making a good impression."

 
; "In my line of business, making a good impression is important."

  "As long as you don't lose sight of other things."

  " 'Other things' such as the legality of the business." They'd been over this before.

  "Such as, what's inside someone." Their waitress approached, and Cody nodded toward the woman. "Such as recognizing that everyone, no matter who she is or what she does, is important."

  Quickly Bernadette retrieved her menu, made a choice, and gave her order. The moment the waitress left, Bernadette leaned toward Cody. "And what makes you think I don't feel she is important?"

  "I think you rank people by their level of importance."

  "I do not."

  "Let's say you're walking along a street, and you see a car coming toward two men. One is clean shaven, dressed in a suit, and carrying a briefcase. One's long-haired, wearing baggy clothes, and looks like he hasn't washed for a month. You can only save one. Which one do you chose?"

  "That's a ridiculous question."

  "Is it?" He arched an eyebrow. "Or is it you know the answer, and it makes you uncomfortable?"

  "What makes me uncomfortable is a grown man trying to live out a fairy tale." There was the possibility he was crazy. Not that he acted like most of the flakes she'd met in her lifetime. "Fairy tales are fantasies, Cody. Wishes. Your Dumb John was looking for respect. Is that what you want? A level of success and respectability."

  "No." He shook his head. "I'm perfectly satisfied with my level of success, and long ago, I learned not to worry about how I looked on the outside."

  "Yet you judge others by how they look on the outside."

  "What makes you say that?"

  "Because the other day at the vet's office, you looked at me and decided I was a snob."

  "The way you were looking down your nose, that wasn't hard to do."

  "Mine was a gut reaction to someone wearing very dirty clothes. Very dirty, I repeat."

  "In other words, the way I dress doesn't bother you?"

  "Not at all," she lied.

  "Good. Want to go out this weekend?"

  She smiled. "No."

  "Why not?"

  She wasn't going to tell him her refusal had nothing to do with how he looked, and everything to do with how he made her feel. A date with him would be dangerous. Volatile. Playing with fire. "I wouldn't want to waste your time. Unlike some, I don't believe opposites attract."