Promises, Promises. Shelley Cooper

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Promises, Promises - Shelley  Cooper


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makeover and all the new clothes, what had really changed? Nothing. She was still the same Gretchen inside that she’d always been.

      The one promise that Jill had extracted, and which didn’t cost a cent, was the very promise Gretchen had overlooked entirely. By dutifully spending a huge sum of money on a flashy car and a new wardrobe, she’d carried out the law of her promises, but not the spirit. She’d adopted the outward appearance while ignoring the inward attitude.

      This wasn’t about seducing Marco Garibaldi. It wasn’t about seducing any man. It most certainly wasn’t about buying a flashy sports car and blowing her inheritance on impractical things.

      It was about living and enjoying life. It was about appreciating every moment in a way she never had before.

      What was it Jill had said to her? Remember that line from Auntie Mame? “Life is a banquet, and most poor suckers are starving to death.” I want you to feast, Gretch, feast like no one has feasted before.

      Jill was right. She’d been going at it all wrong. No book, no wardrobe, no flashy car, and certainly no man was going to teach her how to get the most out of life. That had to come from inside of her. Just as a wild, crazy affair had to happen spontaneously. It couldn’t be planned. She knew that now.

      Gretchen recalled the exhilaration of flying down the road at eighty-five miles per hour. That was the way she wanted to feel every day of her life. That was the way she wanted to feel when a man took her into his arms.

      It was all so clear now. Why had it taken her so long to see it, to understand what Jill had really been doing when she’d extracted all those promises from her? Life was too short. Too short for regrets, too short for fears, too short for embarrassments, too short for not doing all the things she’d always wanted to do.

      Sometime, between now and the end of her life, she would have a wild, crazy affair. But not with a stranger, no matter how much he made her toes curl. She’d have that affair with the man who ultimately ended up owning her heart, the man who would love her and cherish her as much as she did him.

      Until that time, though, Gretchen was done being timid. She was done being hesitant. She was done living her life for her career and ignoring everything else. She’d keep the car and the wardrobe, and she’d use them to bring her pleasure. From now on, she was going to live as if there was no tomorrow.

      “How’s it going?” Gary asked.

      “Fine.” Gretchen sank down into a chair and crossed her legs. “I should be wrapping up the Harrison account today.”

      “Good to hear. By the way, I like your dress. It’s very flattering.”

      She glanced down at the camel-colored silk coatdress. Though not as tight as the black dress she’d worn the day before when she’d taken Marco Garibaldi for a ride, it was just as short. She was growing accustomed to the length of leg it exposed. Just as she was growing accustomed to, and even enjoying, the admiring glances the outfit garnered from the other men in the office.

      “Thanks. I like it, too.”

      Leaning forward, Gary placed his elbows on his desk and steepled his fingers. “Can I ask you something I’ve been wondering about, but never quite had the courage to ask?”

      She shrugged. “Sure.”

      “Why is it you had to come to me for advice on how to attract a man? Why didn’t you already know these things?”

      It was a subject she’d given a lot of thought recently. “I was an only child. My parents were older when they had me, and they were very old-fashioned in their behavior and their dress. I guess it rubbed off on me.”

      “You never rebelled? Not even as a teenager?”

      “No. You see, I wore the label ‘smart’ all through school. It wouldn’t have mattered how I dressed or behaved. The popular kids just looked right through me. Besides, I was too busy studying and taking care of my mother when she got sick. Then, in college, when my dad got sick, I took care of him, too. It wasn’t that I was unaware of the way my peer group dressed and behaved. I just didn’t have time to join them.”

      “Do you regret it?”

      She thought for a minute. “No. The only thing I regret is that Jill didn’t have more time.”

      “So, this is your time,” he said.

      “Yes.” She smiled. “I plan on making the most of it.”

      “Good to hear.” He drew a breath. “How’s the seduction campaign going?”

      “Oh, that.” She waved a hand airily. “Dead in the water. He turned me down flat.”

      Gary peered closely at her. “You don’t seem upset about it.”

      “I’m not.”

      “Why not?”

      “Because I know now it wasn’t meant to be. Actually, that’s why I came to see you. I know it’s short notice, but I need to take next week off.”

      “The whole week?”

      She nodded. “Every single day.”

      “I’m not sure we can spare you that long.”

      “It’s not like it’s busy season, Gary. April fifteenth is still a whole eight and a half months away. The Harrison account will be wrapped up, and Laura and Jack will easily be able to take up the slack.”

      “It’s that important to you?” he asked.

      “It’s that important,” she confirmed. “You know I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t.”

      “What are you planning to do?”

      “All the things I’ve never done.”

      “All of them?”

      “Well,” she amended, chuckling, “as many of them as I can cram into one week. The rest I’ll just have to get to as I can.”

      “Sounds like fun.”

      “I’m looking forward to it.” Rising, she headed for the door.

      “Just because he turned you down, it doesn’t mean you have to give up,” Gary said.

      She glanced at him over her shoulder. “I know. But you see, I realized something. I’m the one who’s not ready for a wild, crazy affair. Not yet. But I will be someday.”

      “Maybe after the week off,” he said.

      “Maybe. I’ll know when the time is right.”

      “Have fun,” Gary said.

      She flashed him a smile. “Thanks. I intend to.”

      Chapter 3

      He had to stop thinking about her.

      Marco knotted and cut the fifth of six required stitches on an eight-year-old’s chin and tried to make his mind blank. It was a waste of effort. If he didn’t know better, he could swear he was suturing Gretchen Montgomery’s image to the viewing screen of his mind, instead of closing a little girl’s cut.

      He snipped the thread from the last suture and stood back to survey his handiwork. Neat. Clean. Although the cut had been a wide one, the scar should barely be noticeable.

      It was the child’s silky brown hair that had him thinking of his landlady. This time. Over the past three days since her unexpected proposal, any variety of sights and sounds had served to bring her to mind. A woman’s laughter. A glimpse of a slender leg. Anyone with brown eyes. The sound of a car engine. It was driving him crazy.

      The fact that they were having an uncharacteristically slow day in the E.R. wasn’t helping, either.

      “All done, Taylor,” he said, after applying a bandage. “So, did I keep my word? Did it hurt?”

      Taylor


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