Amanda's Touch [D.A.R.E.ing Women] (Siren Publishing Allure) Read online

  Looking at herself in the dresser mirror she tried to decide what to do with her hair. There was really no help for it. It was thick, long, wavy, and tended to tangle easily. Maybe she’d cut it all off at her next hair appointment, she thought uncertainly. She stuck her tongue out at her reflection, and then snorted at her silliness.

  Finally, knowing she was running out of time, she quickly put it up in the chignon she normally wore at work. At least it wouldn’t be in her way.

  Directly following the accident she had had dreadful nightmares nearly every night. It was not as frequent now, perhaps only once or twice a week she’d wake up crying David’s name. She kept telling herself it was an improvement.

  Checking the clock she realized it was time to go. She threw her make-up on. She didn’t use much, typically. A little eye shadow, a bit of eyeliner, some mascara, a light application of lipstick and she was off. She badly needed some concealer to cover the dark circles under her eyes, but after digging through her makeup bag realized she had forgotten to purchase it this past week when she’d run out.

  “Tomorrow, you need to make a shopping list!” she sternly told herself. It wasn’t like her to be so forgetful.

  She sighed and grabbed her black denim jacket from the closet. It won’t be so bad, she told herself. She would make an appearance, sing happy birthday, do a quick meet and greet, and then head home. Maybe, she thought, if I did the social rounds more frequently, people would stop treating me like a mental case.

  * * * *

  Amanda pulled up at almost exactly seven-thirty. Since this was a surprise party Beth had wanted everyone there before eight o’clock, when her husband would arrive, so she could get the guests situated.

  They lived in the lovely suburban area of Fox Chapel, which was situated northeast of her own home and across two rivers, the Monongahela and the Allegheny. It was a family-oriented community beautifully laid out with a large well-kept playground one block from their home.

  She really didn’t want to go to this party. She groaned, thinking of having to force herself through the social niceties.

  Blotting her lips with a Kleenex in one hand she flipped the visor back up with the other, smacking herself in the nose with it as she did.

  Ahhh, that smarts! She sat, slightly stunned, as her eyes watered and the pain flared and then faded. Oh yes, Amanda you’re off to a fantastic start this evening, aren’t you? She hung her head for a moment, not sure if she should feel sorry for herself, or if she needed to develop a better sense of humor, then steeled her resolve and gathered the birthday card, her purse, jacket, and her courage.

  As she stepped from the car, she shut the door and hit her key fob to lock up. She heard the thump of the car’s locks as they engaged. Dropping her keys into her purse she stepped around her car and onto the sidewalk.

  “Amanda! Hey! Amanda! Wait up!” called a female voice in an almost lilting soprano. She looked around to see Allison waving at her from across the street.

  Allison Davis was a mid-forties divorcee of the same petite height as Amanda, but just slightly on the chubby the side. She was wearing a baby blue silk T-shirt and stonewashed jeans with strappy heels. Her short, curly blonde hair was pulled back with a blue crystal beaded headband. The blue of her top brought out the baby blue of her eyes. Looking at her, you would have thought she was no older than twenty-five. Amanda vehemently hoped that she aged that well. She shook off the sure knowledge that she already looked older than Allison did.

  Allison had been hired as an administrative assistant to Mr. Grayson just the previous winter. She was great at her job. She kept everyone organized, and she had a cheerful bubbly personality that just naturally affected how the people around her responded.

  “Alli! Boy, am I glad to see you here!” Amanda gave a loud sigh of relief that she had a buddy, of sorts, to accompany her and Allison laughed at her.

  “Amanda, you handle all sorts of very difficult people every day at the office, and onsite. Why are you so worried about a party?”

  She didn’t want to admit to Allison that she felt acutely uncomfortable at gatherings, especially now that she wasn’t part of a pair. She always felt like a third wheel, intrusive in some way. David had always been the life of the party when they’d been out and had naturally drawn crowds of people to him, who had as a matter of course then included Amanda in their mix.

  Instead she asked Allison why she didn’t bring her date. She was dating a man named Paul or Peter, something that started with a “P,” she couldn’t quite recall.

  Allison laughed lightly. “Well, Peter was supposed to come with me but this morning he called me to say he had the stomach flu, so I’m flying solo.” Then she asked Amanda, “And you, Ms. Hall, where’s your date?” Was there a little bit of sarcasm in that question? She smiled innocently at Amanda, but her eyes were crinkled in humor.

  Amanda rolled her eyes and smiled just slightly. Allison was forever trying to play matchmaker for her. If it wasn’t Diane, it was Allison. Amanda simply could not get away from it.

  “You know, Mr. Grayson will be here tonight,” she added with a hint in her voice. “I had to add it onto his Outlook calendar, otherwise he’d forget.”

  “Mr. Grayson is coming to a birthday party? A surprise birthday party?” Amanda was not only taken aback, she was now really anxious too. Her stomach tightened and began to churn. Her head throbbed a bit harder as her pulse pounded in her temples.

  “You know, Alli, I do believe I feel that stomach flu coming on.” Amanda played it up. With the back of her right hand to her forehead and the other on her stomach she pretended to gag, though she wasn’t feeling far from the real thing.

  Allison grabbed Amanda by her left upper arm and marched her up the sidewalk to house. “Come on, girl. You’re going, whether you want to or not.” Allison was now in full mother hen mode. She felt it was her duty not to just be a great assistant but to also mother everyone in the office. Apparently, she felt she had a continued duty to do so outside the work environment as well.

  Fortunately, she had not grabbed Amanda’s hand, and Amanda heaved a silent sigh of relief and thanked God she’d worn longer sleeves.

  * * * *

  At eight-ten Beth shouted, “Quiet everyone! Take your places!”

  People scattered, or gathered in small groups around corners, against the walls, and behind furniture.

  Amanda had had time to relax over the past half hour. After scouring the faces of the forty or so partygoers she had not seen her boss anywhere among them. She was thinking that this evening might not turn out as badly as she feared. She still might be able to make a quick escape. Her throat was burning and she could tell the glands in her throat were pretty swollen, so she’d been hoping that Jerry would arrive soon so she could wish him a happy birthday and then make her excuses and go home.

  Taking her place at the edge of the room near the wall, she giggled at Allison who was ridiculously and vainly trying to hide next to her behind the potted palm.

  “Quiet! Quiet!” Beth was loudly stage whispering now. “He’s getting out of the car, get ready!”

  “One, two, three. Now!”

  A loud wave of cheers, hurrahs, and happy birthdays went up from the party guests.

  Jerry, who had just returned from picking up his parents at the airport, was effectively surprised. He’d been looking behind him as he opened the front door to assist his parents with their luggage so he hadn’t seen anyone other than his wife and two daughters who were front and center for the well-wishing. His mouth dropped open as he focused on all the guests. He turned bright red all the way to the roots of his light brown hair, and everyone laughed uproariously at his obvious confusion and embarrassment.

  Beth, a plump and cheerful brunette, laughed and moved forward to kiss her husband’s cheek while their daughters mobbed him, to offer hugs. The girls, Maggie and Megan, were respectively aged six and eight and took after their father. They each had long straight golden-brown
hair that reached past their shoulder blades, and their bone structure suggested they would be tall and thin like their dad. They had their mother’s dark brown eyes framed by long lashes. Dressed in identical red checkered dresses, they were adorable.

  While the others gathered around Jerry, Amanda stepped away from the wall and turned her back to the group to aid Allison in her escape from behind the potted plant.

  Giving Alli her hand, she blocked the mental stream of consciousness she expected to receive, and she stepped back to give her space to ease out. In doing so, she felt her heel catch in the fringe of the oriental carpet and twisted to free herself, abruptly tripping over someone to her right, who she had not known was there.

  Should have known tonight was going a bit too smoothly, she thought wryly in the instant before her backside connected with the carpeted floor and the moment Allison came hurtling down on top of her. She expelled a loud breath as it was forced out of her diaphragm by Allison’s weight.

  In the midst of catcalls from the men and a chorus of “are you all rights” from the women, Alli and Amanda started to laugh at each other and their predicament. Of course the others witnessed their less than elegant freefall to the floor.

  “I never expected to see the day you would, literally, fall for me, Ms. Hall,” came a dry, deep voice, full of amusement. Oh, Lord! Please do not let it be…

  From her vantage point on the floor she looked up, and up, and up, seeing polished brown loafers, pressed khakis, a brown leather belt, and a navy blue knit polo shirt with Grayson Renovations embroidered on it with gray lettering. It was worn over a well-muscled frame, she couldn’t help but notice. A gentleman with a rugged jaw, high cheekbones, and brilliantly blue eyes was humorously observing the two of them. Yep, she sighed ruefully. It was Zack.

  The two women tried to disengage themselves from the ignominious heap they made on the floor. Allison slid herself off of Amanda and onto her knees on the floor, still smiling widely and chuckling while Amanda was trying to get her hands underneath and behind herself to sit up.

  “Please, allow me.” Two large hands appeared, one in front of each woman.

  While Allison grasped one hand and allowed him to haul her effortlessly to her feet, Amanda pretended not to see his hand and struggled to gain her own footing. Smoothing her rumpled clothes and attempting to regather her hair, which had come tumbling down around her shoulders when she’d hit the floor, she kept her eyes downcast, bending over to retrieve her hair clip laying at his feet.

  Allison laughed at herself and thanked Mr. Grayson. She was not without a sense of humor and felt the situation warranted the jokes now being made at their expense.

  Amanda, on the other hand, was greatly mortified. All they needed was some gelatin and a couple of bikinis so the experience could be complete, at least for the guys, and, well, maybe for some of the women too, she thought sardonically.

  She quickly tried to sneak a look at Mr. Grayson only to find him staring at her. Dropping her gaze she could feel her face flush crimson. He was pointedly looking at her with one eyebrow raised inquiringly. He’d noticed her obvious avoidance of his aid, and he was going to want an explanation. She held her clip in her teeth as she busied herself finger combing her hair and twisting it back into a knot so she could reapply it.

  “Thank you, Mr. Grayson,” she murmured quietly once her hair was regathered, although she had not accepted his assistance. She wished the floor would simply open up and swallow her.

  “Please, excuse me.” She wanted to get the heck away from him before she was stuck in an even more awkward position than the one she was already in. Beating a hasty retreat, she left Allison and Zack staring after her with consternation.

  Making her way through and around the throngs of people surrounding Jerry, she found her way to the nearest door which happened to be the sliding glass door off of the family room into the back yard.

  She located a folding lounge chair toward the rear of the yard and at the far end of the now empty pool. She shook it open and settled herself in it, trying to also settle the jumble of emotions she felt. Shivering, she wrapped her arms around herself, wishing she’d remembered her jacket. She was freezing but she was not going back inside to collect it.

  Amanda sat, considering the pool and the problems it would pose in a few weeks time when Beth and Jerry would fill it for the Memorial Day holiday. They would be having their annual barbeque and swim party, to which she was always invited, though she did not come, pleading family obligations. She wondered how much longer she’d be able to use that excuse without someone catching on.

  The words “family obligations” were ones she often used to get out of various functions. They could not be more untrue. She was an only child, so there were no siblings’ homes to visit, and her adoptive mother had passed away four years ago from breast cancer. She had battled it courageously for eight years, at first pushing herself to live to see her daughter graduate from college, then to see her married. She’d died a few years after. Chemotherapy, radiation, surgery after surgery, they all took their toll on her. Finally, knowing her daughter was happily settled into her married life, and had a lucrative career, she’d allowed herself to let go.

  Lost as she was in her thoughts, she was startled to hear someone standing next to her clear his throat and she jumped several inches off the recliner, nearly dumping herself onto the patio.

  “Perfect,” she muttered under her breath. “Just perfect.” Her heart was thumping erratically from her scare and she’d had to quickly adjust her position so as not to land on the chilled and rough concrete surrounding the pool.

  She could distinctly hear him chuckle in the darkness. “Ms. Hall, would you mind if I joined you?” his voice was a deep rumble from his wide chest and he spoke somewhat mockingly. He knew she’d rather he didn’t.

  She couldn’t say no since he was her boss. Talk about a rock and a hard place!

  “Of course you may, Mr. Grayson. Though, I was planning to return inside in just a minute.” There. That would keep him from thinking she’d sit out here and converse for a lengthy period of time with him.

  “I just wanted to check that you weren’t hurt in your tumble earlier.”

  She definitely heard the deep amusement in his voice. Just my pride, thanks so much for asking, she thought sarcastically.

  “Thank you, but I’m fine,” she replied stiffly. She was still miffed that he’d witnessed her humiliation.

  Another deep chuckle issued from him. Wonderful, she’d found a way to tickle his funny bone. Well, she wasn’t going to let him get the best of her again. She’d had enough problems with him yesterday at work, not that he’d caused them.

  She heard him scrounging around in the darkness. He’d found another lounge chair. Damnation! This was definitely going to be more than a short conversation, from his perspective anyway.

  Well, he could go to hell. They weren’t at work right now and she didn’t have to put up with his nonsense, not here, not now. She heaved a long suffering sigh and rubbed her forehead again wishing she could erase the pain in it, and in her throat, which was feeling almost fiery now.

  “May I ask just what I’ve done to offend you? You go to great lengths to avoid me at work. Unless I call a meeting, or there is an issue with a client, I would never see you.”

  Now he sounded puzzled, but did she hear a hint of hurt pride there too? Ah, criminy! Men’s egos!

  “This morning I call and leave a message that I wanted to speak with you about the Tabott project and you can’t be bothered to return my call.”

  Oops! Her bad. She’d forgotten to check her messages after her walk. Well, it’s the weekend and she’s not the one on call. He could wait till Monday, she thought bitchily.

  “And tonight, I extend my hand, in courtesy I might add, and you treat me like a damn leper!”

  Yes, his ego was definitely bruised. Better walk softly, she thought. Her mind unhelpfully added, And carry a big stick. You may ne
ed to beat him about his head with it. Okay, so at least she could fantasize about the last part.

  Clearing her throat she responded quietly and with great control. “Mr. Grayson, I apologize if you feel I am in any way averse to your company.” She would try to pretty this up for him as much as possible, without opening more doors.

  “I am simply an introverted person.” There, the old it’s me, it’s not you scenario. Surely, he couldn’t take exception to that.

  “Though I love our team, I prefer to work on my own whenever possible.” That was simply the God’s honest truth. Try working with a team around a blueprint table with everyone pointing and gesturing. Try not touching other people. Try not touching their personal objects. Try to refuse a pen someone else handed to you without appearing a little strange or germaphobic.

  “I admire your dedication and ongoing commitment to the company. I respect your work ethic. I appreciate the equity with which you treat your staff.” Wow! She was good at brownnosing, it seemed. She amazed even herself.

  Dryly, he interrupted, “Before you tell me I handle the payroll with outstanding accounting finesse, let me ask you this…” his voice trailed off as he curiously watched her quickly scramble up and off the lounge chair next to him.

  She averted her face and hoped it was too dark for him to read her expression. She was angry, sad, embarrassed, and there were a boatload of other emotions inside her too. Those she didn’t want to acknowledge or examine right then. She straightened her top and brushed off the backside of her jeans. Trying to peer at herself through the darkness to see if there was anything on her clothes from sitting in the untended chair.

  As she lifted her head she felt herself sway. Her balance was off, and she was suddenly so tired it was hard to hold her head up. Her body ached too. Maybe she was coming down with the flu. She really needed to get some sleep tonight, as her second wind had long since expired. She prayed that Mr. Grayson, sitting there in the dark, had not noticed her wavering.