Anything You Can Do

chapter 4



As Austin walked back to his office after lunch, he found that a smile kept sneaking onto his face for no reason. He hadn't won the argument with Bailey, though he hadn't lost either. Still, he should be upset because she had rejected the settlement offer. In all honesty, though, he had to admit he'd known she would. She was tough, a worthy adversary. Battling with her certainly got his adrenaline pumping, not to mention the effect she had on his hormones.

Inside the building, he punched the button to call the elevator, and his smile slowly dwindled. He had to meet with Daniel Lewis, third in overall seniority in the firm and managing partner of the Kansas City branch for fifteen years, and that wouldn't be nearly as much fun as sparring with Bailey.

A few minutes later Austin entered the corner office and faced the older man. Even seated behind the desk, Lewis was obviously tall. Of course, some of that was probably an optical illusion created by his gauntness and long, drooping facial features. He reminded Austin of a skinny basset hound, but his tenacity was that of a bulldog.

"Have you started negotiations with Stafford Morris yet?" Austin asked without preamble, taking a seat without invitation. He knew Lewis resented this intrusion into what he considered his territory.

"I've talked to Stafford."

Probably about where to go for lunch, Austin thought wryly. "And what was his feeling about a merger?"

"Negotiations take time."

Austin's fingers drummed silently on the padded arm of the chair. "As we discussed before, perhaps I should help with the negotiations since you and Stafford are friends."

"I've been doing business with Stafford Morris for a lot of years."

"Tell you what. Why don't you arrange a meeting to include me, just as an observer? Shall we say next week?"

"I'll see what I can do."

That meant about a fifty-fifty chance.

"Fine. Don't forget our meetings with public relations firms on Tuesday and Friday."

With a vague nod, Lewis turned his attention back to the papers on his desk, dismissing Austin. As he left the office, he heard the older man mutter, "Public relations for lawyers. Humph!"

Returning to the tiny cubicle he was using as a temporary office, Austin flopped into the creaky chair and made an effort to unclench his teeth. Damn it, he'd been chosen for this job because of his proven abilities. But these people were fighting him at every turn, making him prove everything all over again.

Picking up a pencil, he tapped the eraser end on the scarred desktop. Well, if he had to, he would, starting with this merger. The firm had approved the merger by majority vote. Now it was his job to see that the deal was consummated.

However, while the idea of taking in Stafford Morris' group had its merits, he'd recently come to realize there could be a problem. The pencil snapped in his fingers. What about Gordon? Kearns, Worley expected all their employees to maintain a consistently high level of productivity. Somehow he'd have to protect Gordon or make him work harder.

He tossed the broken pencil into the trash. Protecting him would probably be the easier way to go.

*~*~*

"Can't do lunch today," Gordon advised Bailey on Friday when she called him. "I'm taking Paula over to the newspaper office to pick up her replies to her personal ad so she won't have to wait for them to be mailed."

"Good thinking," Bailey responded. "If she gets any, take them away from her and burn them."

"Mm, well, got to run. Okay if I come by tonight?"

"Of course. You know where the spare key is if I'm not there. Some of us have to work."

"Paula'll be there," he reminded her.

Bailey breathed a sigh of relief as she hung up the phone. Good old Gordon. He'd see that Paula didn't get involved with any nuts as a result of her impetuous ad.

When she finally made it home after an extra long day, she found the two of them on the white sofa in her living room, reading, discussing, and grading Paula's replies.

"That one is a definite No Way, " Gordon advised as Paula's hand hovered uncertainly over the three stacks of letters on Bailey's glass and brass coffee table.

"I don't know," Paula demurred. "Sipping wine in front the fireplace, walking in the rain—he sounds kind of sweet. I think the Maybe stack."

"You're both nuts!" Bailey exclaimed, picking up Samantha and heading for the kitchen. "All those letters belong in your No Freaking Way stack. Sipping wine and walking in the rain—they're probably all wet, drunk mass murderers, and married besides." She scowled over the pass-through bar from the kitchen into the living room. "And you, Gordon! I can't believe you're aiding and abetting this insanity."

"Ignore her," Paula said, dropping the letter in her middle stack.

"I usually do," Gordon drawled.

"I suppose you'd rather I went to a bar to meet somebody." Ripping open a cream-colored envelope, Paula raised an eyebrow in Bailey's direction.

"I'd rather you joined a nunnery," she retorted. "Go back to school. That's where you met your ex-husband."

"Right. In grade school."

Unable to argue with that, Bailey turned her attention to scooping dog food into a royal blue bowl with SAMANTHA in white letters. "Come see what I cooked for your dinner, sweetheart," she said, placing the bowl on the white kitchen tile.

The dog pranced over, sniffed, then looked at Bailey with an aggrieved expression.

"Okay, so it's only dog food out of a can. You ought to be glad. What if you actually had to eat my cooking?"

"Hey, listen to this," Paula called.

Bailey scratched Samantha's head and, leaving her to her repast, crossed the room to join Paula.

"Dear Cinderella," Paula read from the ivory paper. "My faithful servant brought me the copy of your note, and I hastened to reply lest you be overwhelmed by an army of unreasonable facsimiles. For, of course, I am the only real Prince Charming. Actually, I'm king now since my father retired and moved to Texas, but King Charming doesn't have quite the same ring, does it? Since the post office system is so mundane and totally unsuitable for use by such as we, may I suggest we maintain further contact via the secret royal chamber for missives. If you go to the park named Regency and travel twenty paces from the northeast corner of the rose garden, then turn and go twelve paces to your left, you will come upon a large tree. There you'll find said chamber cleverly disguised as a hole beneath the roots. Do respond soon as I shan't be able to attend to the duties of the kingdom until I hear from you. Faithfully, PC."

"You have to make a new stack for that one," Gordon declared. "Definitely at Once."

"Absolutely," Paula agreed. "The kingdom might be besieged and lost, all because I didn't answer the man."

"You're going to write a letter to that lunatic?" Bailey asked in amazement.

"At least he's a romantic lunatic." Paula stood and raised her head haughtily. "Come along, Gordon. We'll find my laptop and compose a suitable reply."

Gordon stood and took Paula's arm to escort her from the room. "A laptop sounds sort of mundane. Do you think maybe this letter should be handwritten on perfumed stationery?"

"Nah. My handwriting is totally illegible. It's why I had to learn to type. Anyway, PC typed his letter."

"Dictated it to the court stenographer, probably." The pair went into gales of laughter as they disappeared into Paula's room.

Bailey reached down and scooped up Samantha as the little dog strolled into the room. "I do believe you're the only sane friend I have," she told her.

Samantha snuggled in, twisting and turning before finally settling with a contented sigh in a fuzzy ball in Bailey's lap. Bailey stroked the soft fur and wondered why she didn't feel content. Usually Friday nights left her with a sense of accomplishment and an anticipation of the weekend. Saturday work was leisurely compared to the rest of the week so Friday evening started a time of relaxation, but tonight she felt unsettled.

"Want to go get something to eat?" she called to her demented friends.

"How about we send out for a pizza?" Paula asked.

"Sounds good to me," Gordon seconded.

Resignedly Bailey reached for the phone, wondering if they planned to come out of the bedroom to eat. Just as her hand touched the instrument, however, it rang.

Her lack of surprise at hearing Austin's voice gave her a moment's pause, but she assured herself it was only because they'd talked at least once a day concerning the Miller case during the past week. Expecting his voice was a normal response, not a psychic link or anything weird.

"Yes, Gordon's here," she replied in response to his query. "At least, his body is. He's totally lost his mind." She explained what Gordon and Paula were doing, expecting a sympathetic ear.

"They're both writing a letter to Prince Charming?" Austin asked, the emphasis indicating it would be okay if only one of them was doing the writing.

"Hang on. I'll get your friend for you," Bailey offered. Apparently Austin wasn't going to be an ally—was, in fact, involved in the nuttiness.

Gordon's first response to Austin was laughter, then a cryptic "Guidance could be critical."

The entire conversation sounded suspicious to Bailey—Gordon's tone as well as his avoidance of coherent statements.

"See if he wants to come over for pizza," she invited. Best to find out what the two of them were up to, she told herself, justifying the action.

"He says he'll even bring the pizza," Gordon informed her.

An hour later Austin arrived with cold beer and hot pizza. Bailey directed him to the refrigerator while she set the cardboard box in the middle of her dining room table.

"I'm surprised you have a table," Austin said, coming up behind her, leaning over her shoulder to peer at the polished wood with glass inserts. "I mean, since you don't have anything in the refrigerator except dog food and mayonnaise."

"I keep sodas in the vegetable bins," she snapped, suddenly acutely aware of his closeness, afraid to move for fear she'd touch him, uncertain and fearful of where that touch might take her.

For a moment they stood, a tense tableau, then Gordon and Paula burst into the room. Austin stepped backward, and Bailey darted into the kitchen for plates.

"Austin, you wouldn't believe how many replies I've already got to my ad," Paula announced. "Here, listen to this one."

Paula read her letter from Prince Charming while the others consumed pizza. Taking a huge bite of her piece, she chewed a couple of times then declared, "And now you have to hear this really incredible letter Gordon and I have composed in answer."

"No!" both men objected at once.

"Why not?"

"That's very personal, Paula," Austin replied. "I think you should keep the contents strictly between you and this—this PC."

Bailey studied Austin's face as he spoke. Something about this deal wasn't on the up and up.

When the last piece of pizza had been consumed, Austin and Gordon settled comfortably in the living room chairs facing Bailey and Paula on the sofa. Bailey felt satiated, relaxed, and surprisingly comfortable in spite of Austin's presence.

"So how do you like working for the old bear?" Austin asked Paula.

Paula looked at him then turned away as Samantha bounced into her lap. "It's a job," she answered, shrugging, stroking the dog as she again raised her eyes to Austin. "The only one I'm qualified for at this stage of my life."

With a start Bailey realized that Paula really did hate being a legal secretary as much as she said she did. Since she tended to be sarcastic about most things, Bailey had mostly dismissed her comments. But Paula's lilting voice had suddenly gone dull and lifeless.

"So why don't you do something else?" Bailey asked.

"Like what? I'm too short to be a model and too clumsy to be a waitress. And speaking of, what's happening with our friend Candy?"

"Don't get them started," Gordon warned. "We'll have World War Three right here in Bailey's living room. Come on, let's go deliver your letter."

"Right now? In the middle of the night?"

"Sure." He stood, pulling Paula to her feet. "Why not? I'll protect you."

"It's not that," she answered. "It just doesn't feel right to send off a letter without making file and reading copies."

"You've definitely been a secretary too long. Come on."

Paula retrieved the envelope from the kitchen bar, sealed it, and grinned. "This is fun," she said.

"We'll be back shortly," Gordon assured Bailey and Austin as he opened the door for Paula.

"You know, we can't stretch you or improve your coordination, but have you ever considered night school now that you live close to several colleges?" Gordon asked her.

Bailey watched the pair leave, the door close behind them. Even if they were nuts, she was glad her two best friends got along so well. She didn't even resent their going off together and leaving her alone with Austin.

But suddenly she didn't feel so comfortable anymore.

Ridiculous! She'd overcome this irrational fear of the male of the species long ago. She was a professional, a skilled attorney up for a partnership. So why did Austin make her feel like she was sixteen again?

For what seemed an eternity but was probably only a few seconds, she kept her head turned toward the door, avoiding him, searching her usually fertile mind for something to say. They'd argued interminably all week, creating an odd sort of intimacy by virtue of the continued encounters. There was really no reason to feel awkward now.

With incredible force for a six-pound creature, Samantha leaped into Bailey's lap, eliciting a startled "Oomph!"

"Cute dog," Austin said, and she finally turned to look at him, directly into those electric eyes.

"Thanks," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

A mantel clock that had theretofore been relatively silent suddenly ticked loudly, annoyingly.

"Nice chess set," Austin said. The carved ivory figures on a marble board occupied their own table in the corner of the room.

"A gift from my father. Do you play?"

"A little." But his eyes lit up, and Bailey knew. Wordlessly she moved the set to the dining room table, and Austin followed, eyes glowing. As they began to play, she rapidly concluded that he was no novice. Not that she'd ever thought he might be.

Bailey's blood was leaping again. She made her moves unhesitatingly, no longer uncomfortable, again in control.

Sometime during the game she saw Paula and Gordon from the corner of her eye as they came in, but they went straight to Paula's room.

Finally— "Check," Austin announced.

"And mate." Bailey unhesitatingly moved a knight into position, trying to refrain from smirking.

"Very good," Austin said. Damn! he thought. That gave her two in a row, for she'd definitely trounced him at the deposition. "Another game?" He had her strategies figured out now. He'd beat her this time.

Sometime later he slapped his palm on the tabletop and exclaimed, "Impossible!" when it became apparent the game was a stalemate.

"My sentiments exactly."

For a moment they glared at each other, then both shoved back their chairs and stood. Austin moved in long strides toward the refrigerator, intent on getting a cold beer. From the corner of his eye, he saw Bailey doing the same thing. Well, he could certainly walk faster than she could!

They collided in the kitchen doorway. He automatically put up his hands to brace against the collision and she must have done the same because somehow their bodies slammed together while their arms tangled around each other. The adrenaline of anger, the excitement of the game, somehow all got mixed up and misdirected. He could have sworn it all came from holding Bailey's sleek body against his.

Her face, inches from his own, was glowing, her green eyes blazing. She exuded life and vitality and challenge.

One of his hands, seemingly of its own volition, stroked her smooth neck while the other moved down to her slim waist.

This is crazy, he thought. Holding an untamed tiger in one's arms was definitely crazy but it didn't feel crazy. It felt wonderful.

He really had to stop.

Her full lips parted slightly, as if to take in extra breaths, her gaze never leaving his. Her hands caressed his back, deftly, gently, as he'd never realized yet always known she could.

Austin ordered his hands to move away from her body, but they were no longer connected to his brain. The right slid down to the firm roundness of her buttocks, pushed her pelvis against his arousal, while the left held her neck firmly as his lips touched hers. She returned the kiss hungrily, matching his own frenzy. He felt the strength and the softness, tasted pizza and beer and an elusive spiciness he immediately identified as Bailey. His tongue darted out, met hers, thrust, parried, retreated, and returned.

He couldn't think, didn't dare think, could only revel in the feel of her beneath his hands, against his body, moving with him in a frenetic rhythm. As she clung to him, his hand moved from her neck over her collarbone, down to her small, round breast, molding it through the soft fabric of her cotton blouse. His fingers searched for the nipple, his breath coming faster as he found it erect, felt her surge against him as he stroked.

Something gentle but insistent touched his leg repeatedly, but he had no attention left for outside distractions. This contest was consuming him. He couldn't get enough of Bailey. He had to have her, had to love her, doubted even that would be enough.

A sharp bark intruded.

Dazed, Austin jerked apart from Bailey, followed her gaze to the floor at their feet where Samantha looked up with indignation in her brown eyes.

Bailey sank to the floor, took the dog into her arms.

"Were you being ignored, sweetheart?" Her words were gasps, the same as his would be if he tried to talk.

Talk? How could he talk when he couldn't even think? Austin yanked open the refrigerator door and pulled out a can of beer. He popped the top, held on to the kitchen counter, and downed half the contents of the can then paused to breathe.

"Are you two finally taking a break?" Paula's voice came across the room.

"Yes," he gulped.

"We're finished," Bailey added.

She sounded so definite, but when he looked at her, in the split second before she looked away he saw in her eyes what he already knew. They weren't finished. They'd barely begun, and whatever it was they'd begun, it was like nothing he'd ever known or heard of before.

"Got to run, kids," Gordon said, giving Paula and Bailey a quick kiss. "Let's do my place tomorrow night. Austin and I will cook so we can eat something besides pizza."

Austin smiled as he felt control returning. He was a gourmet cook. No woman who kept dog food and mayonnaise in her refrigerator could possibly equal his culinary skills. "Great idea, Gordon."

"I'll bring dessert," Bailey said.

All eyes turned to her.

"Price Chopper's got a sale on frozen cheesecake," Gordon said.