2000 Kisses (2 page)

Tess gulped the strong coffee gratefully. Had it actually been two years? Had her personal life been stalled that long?

She took another drink of coffee, refusing to think about it.

The caffeine was giving her a nice edge of energy when the statuesque cruise director emerged from the kitchens, clipboard in hand.

“Everything looks fabulous, including those chocolate raspberry souffles.” She studied Tess. “How do you feel?”

Giddy. Sick. Wonderful.

“Excited,” Tess said levelly. “Are you coming tonight?”

The blond woman shook her head. Her chocolate-brown skirt and beige silk blouse fit her like wind around a flagpole, and Tess had to admire her style—all six feet of it. “I'm afraid not. My husband and I have a date for a candlelit dinner.
Very
private,” she said, smiling mischievously. “It's our first anniversary, and we want to be alone at midnight.” She grinned. “If you know what I mean.”

Tess felt another tiny pang, which she resolutely ignored. “Sounds like fun.”

The blonde smiled. “Well, congratulations are definitely in order for you. From what
I
hear, people are already lined up outside, trying to crash the party.”

Tess was glad she'd hired a teamof discreet security guards. She made a mental note to call ahead and check security as she held out a box of the premium chocolates, “Happy anniversary.”

The cruise director gave a silent whistle as she studied
the name on the box. “This is serious decadence you're handing me.” Her head tilted. “Any chance you might save a bottle of Krug champagne in exchange for one cabin upgrade?”

Cabin upgrades could be
very
useful in soothing a passenger's ruffled feathers if something went wrong. “Throw in a private tour of the boat with the captain, and I'll give it a shot.”

“Done. By the way, did you know that according to the Mayan calendar this isn't a new millennium at all. Actually the new year will be 5119?”

“Oh, go ahead and confuse me. Let's see, that leaves eight hundred and eighty-one years until I have to do this again.” Tess glanced at her watch and gave a low moan. “I've got to dress and do something about my hair.”

Outside the snow was picking up, great fluffy flakes of white that drifted down in exquisite silence.

“Our fearless leader just phoned,” Annie called out. “He says to remind you to wear something sexy. He's got someone he wants you to meet.”

Richard Main waring, Tess's boss and mentor, was a Harvard graduate who was blue blood by birth and New Age by choice. The fact that he was rolling in trust funds and blue chip stocks gave him the dangerous ability to indulge in every new fad that took his fancy. Last year it was an ashram in India. This year it was buying a solar energy-equipped yacht to cruise French Polynesia.

“What makes him think I need any help in the dating department?” Tess raised a hand as Annie started to speak. “Don't answer that.”

“Richard has a lot of interesting friends. Maybe he's set you up with an inscrutable stranger in a turban.”

“Sounds like the taxi driver I had last night.” Tess
glanced at her watch and groaned. “Gotta go. If Mel Gibson calls, tell him his ticket's at the door.”

“Break a leg,” Annie said with a jaunty smile.

Tess grabbed her small suitcase and garment bag and headed for the stateroom she'd been assigned to use as an on-site office and, tonight, a place to change clothes. “By the way, if anyone calls to tell me I won the lottery you have my permission to transfer the call to my stateroom
immediately.”

“What, give up the good life?”

“You mean the long hours, the demanding clients, the millions of details to keep track of, and the excruciating phone calls? If I had a million dollars, I'd be sitting perfectly coiffed behind a polished Louis XV desk while I calmly issued orders to about a hundred workers.”

Annie just smiled.

“What are you smiling at?”

“You, Millions or not, you'd still be out in the trenches. You love the thrill of a good product placement. But Richard's right,” Annie added, shaking her finger at Tess, “you need to find a personal life. Remember the clock is ticking—and not just for the new millennium.”

At twenty minutes to eight, Tess stood beneath the great chandelier in the observation lounge. She smoothed her hair and checked her watch anxiously.

Twenty-five bottles of vintage 1995 Perrier-Jouet champagne stood cork-free, breathing beside a similar number of Belle Epoque Rose. She had verified that calla lilies decorated every guest's stateroom, along with a personalized box of designer chocolates hand-dipped and
wrapped for the cruise. An elegant assortment of designer spa items had also been delivered to soothe the inevitable moniing-after hangovers.

The cruise staff had undertaken all the serving arrangements, and now there was nothing left for her to do but sit back and relax.

Red silk clung to her body from bodice to ankle, brightened by simple rhinestone straps. The gown was Tess's only recent indulgence, and it made her feel like a million dollars. Garnets glittered at her neck and wrist, and not a hair was out of place. Her nerves were frazzled, but that was only to be expected.

She fixed a radiant smile on her face as the first guests arrived to the accompaniment of a string quartet. Soon she was elbow deep in Versace gowns and Armani tuxedos, sharing smiles, compliments, and congratulations. A multimillionaire software designer asked her to share his cabin on the cruise, then offered to fly her to Paris in his private jet, with the clear assumption that she would be sharing the sheets with him. Her flat refusal didn't deter his pursuit.

Considering the giddy excitement of the occasion, Tess took no offense. Tonight was all magic and merriment.

Champagne corks popped and diamonds glittered. By the time Tess had fielded a third not-quite-sober marriage proposal, she was starting to enjoy herself. The trick, she decided, was to keep the whole thing in perspective.

She was surveying the exuberant scene with quiet pride when an attractive man with a hint of gray at his temples beckoned to a waiter to refill her glass. “May I? I'd consider it repayment.”

He had nice eyes, Tess thought. In spite of herself, she felt a stirring of interest. “Repayment for what?”

“Because looking at you in that amazing red dress makes me feel very young, my dear.”'

French, she thought. Very romantic. Also very experienced. “Now, that has to be the smoothest line I've ever heard.”

“It's not a line at all. I speak with all sincerity. Right now you're exuding energy from every pore.”

“I thought that was my perfume.”

He chuckled softly. “You're very edgy. Things are happening fast.”

“What things?” Why was he staring at her as if he could part invisible layers and see what was beneath?

His eyes narrowed as he drew her palm into his. “Fascinating,” he murmured. “I see extremely bright colors swirling around you.”

“I take it back—this is die smoothest and most inventive line I've ever heard.”

He didn't seem to hear. “You have something exciting in your future.”

“Tell me it's a million dollars and I'll go to sleep happy.”

He looked toward her but not quite at her, his eyes slightly unfocused. “There's a great deal of green mound your shoulders. Yes, I'm sensing abundance, great abundance. Of course, it might have nothing to do with money.”

He was about to say more when a woman in a jeweled Vera Wang slip dress threw her aims around him, “Damien! How am I ever going to thank you?”

His eyes held a steady satisfaction.” Was I right?”

“Everything worked out just the way you said it would.” She fluttered her perfectly mascaraed lashes.

“And I do mean
everything.
He was exactly as you described him.” She flashed a platinum-set diamond that had to be at least ten carats. “The wedding will be in Martinique in May. You simply
must
come. Call me next week and I'll tell you everything.”

Tess watched her walk away, accompanied by a man whose watch could have paid Tess's rent for about five years. She wasn't sure whether to be amused or bewildered. “You predicted that?”

The Frenchman gave a self-effacing shrug. “Some men build software. I see auras. I'm glad you turned down the private jet to Paris. He was definitely not your type.”

Tess couldn't help smiling. “If he keeps offering me trips like that, he could become my type.”

“I doubt it. It will take more than money to reach your heart.”

“You don't look like a psychic.”

“Actually, I'm clairvoyant and somewhat telepathic. I'm also a banker, which makes my skills very useful.” He studied her carefully. “I'm Damien Passard. Richard is an old friend of mine.”

Now Tess understood. This was the man that her boss had picked out for her. “I see. So
you 're
the sacrificial lamb.”

“It wasn't a sacrifice. He told me he knew a fascinating woman I should meet, and he was right.”

Tess felt herself blushing.

“Your aura is particularly strong tonight. You've worked hard at your career in the last year. Unfortunately, that's left no time for your own interests.”

Anyone could guess that, Tess thought. The description applied to most of the women under the age of thirty in this room. It didn't mean a thing.

“I see you have a degree in journalism. It might prove useful in ways you have yet to imagine.”

Another lucky guess, Tess thought darkly.

“There are other currents swirling around you. One of them will be a wonderful adventure in a place that may seem somehow familiar.”

Tess pulled her hand away. She was starting to be spooked by these calm pronouncements about her future. “Well, that was fascinating. Not that I believe any of it.”

A frown edged across his forehead. “I see someone moving into your life very soon. He will touch you deeply.”

“Is he someone here on die boat?” Not that she really
believed in
all this nonsense.

The Frenchman released her hand. “I'm afraid I can't say.”

“Why not?”

“The energy is still unformed.” He turned as Richard Mainwaring clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“I see you two have met. Damien is an old friend, Tess. He helped me handle my first agency contract.”

Tess gave her boss a look that screamed
traitor.
“He's very nice for a sacrificial lamb.”

Her boss gave her the boyish smile that concealed a razor-sharp business mind. “She's wonderful, isn't she, Damien? This whole millennium cruise was her idea. The cruise bigwigs are thrilled because their high-end bookings have doubled.” He lowered his voice. “They want us as their permanent PR agency. At the figure they've promised, I'd be unforgivably stupid to say no.” He smiled, raising his glass. “I almost regret that I can't take the cruise myself. I think I'd make a rather good Hemingway.”

Damien chuckled. “You've got the moveable feast part right, anyway.”

“We've had media people burning down the phone,” Richard said smugly. “You've got an enormous bonus coming, Tess.”

“That's wonderful.” Tess tried to rein in her curiosity and failed. “Exactly how happy should I be?”

“Very
happy. Head-for-a-week-in-Kauai happy.”

Her curiosity zoomed into overdrive. “That could be expensive.”

“You can afford it. Your cruise bonus will be in your account tomorrow, along with a matching figure as a gift from me. No, don't ask for details. Just go out and enjoy it.” He smiled benevolently. “As your concerned, solicitous boss I'm requesting that you take a week off. That live Internet auction you held for charity last month was brilliant. It brought us at least a dozen new clients.”

“So that was your idea, Tess?” Damien raised his champagne glass in a salute. “Now I know who to blame. I dropped an unforgivable amount on a Chateau Margaux 1900.”

“You got off too easy,” Richard said dryly. “Remember that island in French Polynesia?”

Tess definitely remembered. She'd drooled over the auction description for a week. “The one with the pristine white beaches and the drop-dead sunsets?”

“That's the one.” Richard gave a smile, caught between diffidence and triumph. “Well, I bought it.”

“You bought it?” Tess remembered the string of zeroes in the price. “You never mentioned that to me.”

“I think I needed time for it to sink in. I'm heading off tomorrow morning, actually. Things will be dead here with the cruise finally on its way.” Richard crooked his
finger at a waiter hovering silently nearby. “I thought we'd share a special treat for the occasion.”

Damien's brow rose. “Not the Chiteaud'-Yquem 1825?”

Tess watched the men as if they were speaking Swahili. Behind them, the waiter pouted three glasses and offered each with a flourish, along with a napkin of antique Belgian linen.

“To us,” Richard said solemnly. “To working hard and playing hard. May this gift from an old century ring in a new era of joy and abundance.”

Tess took a careful sip and was instantly seduced by a concentrated sweetness that blended intense fruit and mellow acidity. 'It's wonderful.”

“Beyond wonderful.” Richard closed his eyes, a look of reverence on his face. He took another sip and sighed audibly. “Paradise found.” Then he looked at Tess. “As for you, I want you out of the office and out of Boston. Things will be very slow here after the holidays, and Annie and the staff can take care of anything that comes up until you return.”