Anything You Can Do(71)
"I just figured it all out myself. I haven't told her yet. "
"Don't you think it would be a good idea if you let her in on your plans?"
"I will at dinner on Saturday. Flowers, champagne, then a small black box. Maybe I'll even get down on my knees."
Bailey circled around her desk to hug him. "You really have turned into Prince Charming since Paula showed up," she teased, settling into the chair next to his. She could have sworn he was blushing, though it was hard to tell beneath his tan.
He shrugged. "But on the practical side, I have to find out what size ring she wears. Any suggestions?"
"Sure. I can find out for you."
"I thought you might. I also thought you might go with me to pick out something she'd like."
"I'd love to. I'll even take off work on time."
"The ultimate sacrifice!" Gordon beamed as he stood to leave. "I'll hold you to it. My house at six tonight. "
After Gordon left, Bailey sat staring out the window at the parking lot and office building next door, not really seeing either. Her lips curved up in a half smile.
She couldn't think of anything that would please her more than the marriage of her two best friends. If she hadn't been so wrapped up in her own problems, she'd have seen it coming. In spite of Paula's thorny shell, it was obvious she cared for Gordon. The fact that she continued to see him in spite of his occupation spoke volumes.
As for Gordon, in all the years they'd been friends, he'd never acted this way. Certainly there had been no lavender teddy bears or blushes!
Would anybody ever love her that way?
Bailey scowled at the last maverick thought and ordered it from her mind, but not before a recollection of the look of loathing on Austin's face as he left her office yesterday stabbed through her.
I'm happy. I'm happy for my friends, she told herself in an attempt to drive away the hollow, painful feeling that had suddenly returned.
This will at least solve the problems of Paula's going to firm functions and of her low salary, Bailey reflected, diverting her thoughts to the positive side.
No, on closer examination, that wouldn't do. There was still the principle of the thing.
*~*~*
Somewhere around ten o'clock that morning Austin lost count of how many times he had picked up the phone with the intention of calling Bailey then put it back down. By noon he estimated that the number exceeded a hundred.
Never had his emotions bounced around so wildly.
After the initial shock had worn off, he'd begun to search for some explanation for Bailey's behavior. And against all the evidence he'd come to believe, as Gordon did, that there must be some explanation—at least, he desperately hoped there was.
When and how had this irritating woman gained so much importance in his life?
He gulped down a dry sandwich and tried to return to his work. No one at the firm had been particularly upset or even surprised that the merger had failed. Some of the older partners gave him unsolicited but probably good advice on selecting a more likely firm next time.
Though he'd never admit it to anyone else, Austin acknowledged to himself that he'd pushed for the Hoskins, Grier firm as much from emotion as from factual data. His judgment had been influenced by his desire to change an old failure, an unaccustomed failure, to a success. Then, even when Morris' revelation had blunted the edges of the rejection, he'd pushed ahead with his plan because of Bailey. She became the one he wanted to conquer.
So how could he condemn Bailey for doing the same thing?
Except he hadn't done anything unethical in his effort to win, and she had—hadn't she?
He picked up the phone and, before he could change his mind, punched out her number.
Just hearing her voice identifying herself sent a rush of adrenaline through his body.
"Bailey," he began, talking fast before she could hang up on him, "I'm sorry I got upset about the merger. You had every right to vote the way you wanted. And if you'll just tell me why you're still representing Candy Miller, I'll try to understand."
She didn't hang up. To his surprise, her voice was calm, sweet even. "Understand? You think you can understand?"
"I think I can. Just try me." This was too easy.
"Blow it out your ear. Can you understand that?"
She hung up.
An hour later a bomb came in the afternoon mail, a bomb in the form of a copy of the pleading he'd seen on Stafford Morris' desk. The smear of cigar ashes across the top had photocopied perfectly, identifying it beyond any reasonable doubt. He read it slowly, carefully, jubilantly. Hoskins, Grier and Morris was asking to be released as attorney of record for Candy Morris due to "pertinent facts of which said firm was not aware at the time of original filing."