Ringing in Love (19 page)

The conference room on Catherine's floor where the team had set up headquarters was so messy, with the detritus of a dozen people almost living there, she was tempted to put a sign on the door warning it was a possible biohazard area. At their weekly staff meeting, she threatened to call in the EPA guys in the space suits to get it decontaminated unless the growing-ever-older-by-the-day pizza boxes and takeout containers were removed.

When the final draft of the proposal was ready, no one was happier to see the grins on the faces of the team that had put it together than the two principals. Catherine happily signed off on what she knew to be a brilliant piece of work, as did Dominic. On the Friday the proposal was due, Edie reviewed it, and took charge of having copies bound and messengered out to the Foundation headquarters in Haverford. Everyone on both teams was given time off until after Christmas, which was the following Tuesday.

To celebrate the successful work on the proposal as well as to enjoy the first weekend completely free of work since Thanksgiving, Dominic and Catherine planned an overnight in New York City. Dominic made reservations for a suite at The Plaza Hotel and bought theater tickets. Noah was with his dad. Everything was in place for a very special weekend.

It started by Dominic suggesting Catherine drive his Maserati. He said it was because he couldn't afford any more tickets, but from the look in his eyes, Catherine was sure it was because he wanted to give her the pleasure of driving his car. And pleasure was what she got as she sped along the Jersey Turnpike in a driving machine like no other she'd experienced.

Handing the car over to the valet parking attendant wasn't the easiest thing she'd ever done, but when Dominic promised she could drive them home, she relinquished the keys.

When they checked into their room, there was a chilled bottle of champagne waiting for them. “Did you do this or did the Plaza?” Catherine asked.

“I did. I thought we should start the celebrating right away,” Dominic answered.

“Mister Russo, are you trying to get me intoxicated so you can have your way with me?”

“Actually, I thought I'd let you have your way with me today,” he said. “So don't drink too much of this. I'm looking forward to it.” He picked up the bottle. “Why don't you put your things in the bedroom while I do the honors?”

She hung up the dress she'd brought to wear to dinner and the theater and put her toiletries in the bathroom. Wanting to make sure things were okay in Philly, she checked her phone before going back to the living room. She had five messages, all from Melody, asking her to call immediately.

What the hell could be so important she'd call five times in less than an hour? The last time she'd had this many messages in such a short time Noah was in big trouble.
Please, God, not again
.

Cursing herself for turning off the phone while she drove up, Catherine called her office. Melody answered on the second ring. “Mel? What's going on? Is it Noah?”

“Noah's fine. Are you alone? Can you talk?”

“Alone? You know I'm with Dominic.”

“Yes, but is he standing there? With you.”

“No, he's in the other room. What the hell's going on?”

She could hear Melody take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I called the Rittenauer Foundation to make sure the proposal got there. They said they had nothing from us.”

“Maybe they didn't notice we're in with The Russo Group.”

There was an ominous pause. “That's the thing. We're not.”

“What do you mean, we're not? Of course we are.”

“No, The Russo Group submitted a proposal under their name alone. We were cut out. Either they proposed their own ideas or …”

“Or stole ours and submitted them as theirs.” Catherine's stomach took a nosedive. It couldn't be. He wouldn't. She tried hard not to believe it. “Are you sure?” Did you have them check a second time?”

“Yes, Catherine. I had them check every single copy of The Russo Group's proposal. Three times.”

It
was
true. The man in the other room had totally and completely screwed her over. She'd been a fool to trust him. Of course he wasn't interested in her. He'd only been interested in what she could do for his business. And she'd gotten in so deep she could feel her heart cracking open.

“I probably should have waited until you got back but …” Melody began.

Catherine interrupted. “No, you shouldn't have. You did the right thing. I'll be back in Philly as soon as I can catch a train. I'll come directly to the office. Wait for me and get as many of the project team members as you can find to come in. This is about more than one proposal. I want to know exactly what was discussed about our business while they were working with that SOB's staff. We may have some serious damage control to do.”

“I'm so, so sorry, Catherine.”

“Yeah. So am I.” She ended the call and stared at her phone for a few moments, feeling all the joy draining out of her life. Why hadn't she paid attention to her first instinct? She was a means to an end for him, nothing more. It should have been clear the day she moved into his building. The first thing he said to her was he wanted her to tell his staff what she did and how she did it. He wanted to suck her dry of information. Now he'd get a big contract because of her staff.

And if she was right and her people had shared a lot about their business during the time they were working together, he had an added bonus—he knew details about her business, how they operated, where her weaknesses were. He could continue to have an advantage over her.
Bastardo
.

Dominic appeared at the door of the bedroom, two flutes of wine in his hands. “You're taking a long time to unpack,
cara
. The bubbles in the champagne will be all gone if you don't get out here soon.”

“Right. The bubbles in the champagne. With everything else under control, that's about all you have to worry about, isn't it?” She began to stuff her belongings back into her overnight bag.

“What do you mean?” He frowned. “And what are you doing?”

“What does it look like I'm doing? I'm packing.”

“Is there an emergency? Is Noah okay?”

She went to the bathroom to get her toiletries. When she returned he asked again, “Catherine, I asked if there's something wrong with Noah.”

“Noah's fine. My business, however, is not.”

“Your business? What happened?”

She picked up her now repacked bag and started for the living room. “As if you don't know,” she said, pushing past him.

“What do I know?” He followed her and put the glasses of wine on a table before blocking her access to the door of the suite. “Tell me. Just fucking talk to me.”

“About what? How good you are at playing innocent? About how stupid I was to think you could actually be interested in me for myself? About how you betrayed me and screwed over my staff? There's nothing to talk about. I know what you did. I know why you wanted to get me out of town today. You can stop pretending.” Her voice cracked, and she knew she had to get out of the room before she started crying. “Get the hell out of my way and let me go.”

“Not until you tell me what's going on.” His arms were crossed over his chest, his voice hard and angry.

“What's going on is you're a liar and a cheat and a goddamn son of a bitch who I never want to see again.”

“I have no idea what brought this on. All I can see is you're angry without making any sense about why.”

“I'm not making any sense? Right. Well, maybe this will.” She grabbed one of the champagne glasses from the table and, saying, “Here. Do you understand this?” tossed the wine in his face, hitting him in the eyes. Then she threw the glass against the wall. “
Vai all'inferno
, Russo.”

Taking advantage of his spluttering need to wipe wine from his eyes, Catherine ran out the door and down the hall. Conveniently, an elevator car was there, and she got to the lobby in seconds. Once outside the hotel, she grabbed a taxi and, as the cabby pulled away from the curb, watched out the rear window as Dominic roared out the door of The Plaza and looked up and down the street.

She ducked down and hoped he didn't see her.

Dominic got pulled over for the first time less than ten miles into his drive on the Jersey Turnpike and was cited for talking on his cell phone while going thirty miles an hour over the speed limit. He didn't argue. He thanked the state police officer, shoved the tickets into the glove box, and took off. About fifteen minutes later, the same cop, who had apparently followed him, nailed him for the same two offenses. Dominic tried to explain this time but to no avail.

It was turning into a very expensive day. Four, hefty moving violations. A probable increase—again—in his car insurance. A hotel bill for a room he wouldn't be using. Theater tickets he'd given as a tip to the bellman for a play he'd never see.

Worst of all, for reasons he didn't understand, the day had cost him the woman he loved. He had to find out what the hell had happened and make it right. If he didn't, everything he'd planned for them for the weekend and for the New Year would be ruined, maybe forever.

Desperate to talk to someone who could help him find out what was going on, he'd first called his office, the cause of one half of his first set of tickets. The obvious thing connected to him that could make her so angry was the Rittenauer project, and he wanted to talk to one of his project team to see what they might know. Of course, none of the team members was there to help him out—he'd forgotten they were gone until after the holiday. When he asked to talk to Edie, oddly enough, she wasn't there either. No one knew why.

The second set of tickets came while he was talking to Catherine's office to see if he could get any help there. But none of her staff was available either. The Rittenauer team there was also off, and most everyone else had left early. He'd been pulled over before he could ask to talk to Melody.

Not wanting to risk a third set of tickets, he slowed down and didn't make another call until he stopped at a gas station. The third phone call was the charm. Dick Rittenauer gave him the answer he was looking for. It didn't take too many subtle—and not so subtle—questions to find out what had made Catherine go ballistic. Somehow, her firm had been cut out of the proposal The Russo Group had submitted to the Foundation. Dominic tried to explain there'd been a mix-up and he needed to amend the proposal, but he didn't make any headway. Telling Rittenauer he'd call again as soon as he returned to Philly, Dominic got back on the road. He didn't know how this had happened. He didn't know who had done it. But he sure as hell intended to find out, even if it meant he had to hunt down every last one of the project team at their homes over the weekend.

But first, he had to get Catherine to listen to him, to let her know he understood why she was angry, and to assure her he'd take care of it. And the only way he could think to do that was to get to her office before she went into hiding behind her staff. It's what he'd do if he were in her place, so he was guessing she would, too.

• • •

Catherine burst through the doors to her office suite, the anger she'd been stoking since New York now at levels rarely seen outside steam turbines. “Melody, did you get hold of everyone on the Rittenauer team? Are they here?”

“Most of them, but …”

Catherine stalked down the hall toward her office. “Get them all in the conference room. Right now. And get the coffee shop to send up two big carafes of coffee.”

“Catherine, maybe you …”

She whirled to face her friend. “I don't want to hear ‘maybe.' I want to hear ‘sure, Catherine.' ‘Whatever you want, Catherine.' ‘Right away, Catherine.' Got it? Thanks to that son-of-a-bitch …”

“The son-of-a-bitch who's in your office at the moment.”

“What the fuck? Why the hell didn't you tell me?”

Melody rolled her eyes but got serious quickly when Catherine glared at her. “He's been waiting for a while. I couldn't get him to leave. Maybe you should go back and see him.”

“No,
we'll
go back and see him. If I see him alone, I'll kill him.” Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed Melody's arm and dragged her down the hall.

Dominic struggled up from the couch when they entered, knocking his knee against the glass coffee table, muttering some curse word under his breath. “Catherine, you're here.”

“Where the fuck do you think I'd be? I have damage control to do to save my business, you
figlio di puttana
.”

He recoiled, as if her words had pushed him back. But his voice was calm as he said, “Look, I found out from Dick Rittenauer what happened, and you have every right to be angry but …”

“Oh, how very kind of you to give me the right to be pissed off because you and your staff screwed us over.”

“I had nothing to do with it. And I promise I'll get to the bottom of who did.”

“Yeah, right. You really got your money's worth out of what you spent on me, didn't you, Russo? Not only the Rittenauer project, but also a way to damage my business in the future. Or was that just a happy coincidence?”

“I didn't … what do you mean, damage your business? How?”

“I'm on my way to talk to all the people your staff sucked information out of about my firm. Information you could use to wreck me.”

“Why would I want to wreck you? And didn't your staff find out information about my business?”

“How could anything they find out crush the mighty Dominic Russo? You're the steamroller here.”

He pulled at his hair, looking exasperated but still sounding calm. “Okay, let's leave all that for the moment. We can sort it out later. The important thing here is what happened. It has to be some huge mistake. You and I signed off on the same proposal. The exact one our teams put together. I don't know what changed between the time we signed off on it and the time it went out to Haverford.”