Difficult Decision: Connecticut by Janet Dailey

Author:Janet Dailey [Dailey, Janet]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780759238084
Google: hijISmb6vrcC
Amazon: 0759238081
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 1979-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

"I DO LOVE a good polka, don't you?" Foster Darrow declared, his florid face even redder than usual after the fast-stepping dance.

"Yes, I do." Deborah was out of breath and trying hard not to pant, after the unaccustomed demands of that dance. The heat in her face warned her that her cheeks were flushed, too. She could feel tendrils of hair curling damply around her neck, having escaped the coil of mahogany hair atop her head. She was badly in need of a few minutes to catch her breath and freshen up. "Would you excuse me, please?"

"Of course," the financier grinned.

And Deborah angled away from the path that would have taken her to the table where Tom and Zane waited. She didn't care what business discussion went on in her absence. She would have been too exhausted to pay attention anyway.

Tonight's meeting was very important. Foster Darrow would be giving Zane his decision whether he would put the support of his financial institution behind the latest LaCosta project. Most people thought these big money decisions were made in large boardrooms or an attorney's office. That was only where the fine details were worked out. The committing of funds was more often done over, a lobster thermidor or a Manhattan. It was a lesson Deborah had learned very quickly.

In the luxurious powder room, Deborah sank onto one of the velvet-covered stools in front of the long vanity mirror. Her ribs ached from the bear-hugging arm of the heavyset financier. She reached for a tissue in the decorative holder and pressed it against her skin to absorb the thin film of perspiration that had collected on her forehead, cheeks and neck.

Her hair was a mess, little wisps sticking out all over the place. Sighing, Deborah began pulling out the pins and shaking the deep copper length of her hair free. One more polka and it would happen anyway, she reasoned, so why fight it? She took the small comb from her evening purse and arranged her hair into some semblance of a style.

The few minutes of inactivity had slowed her heartbeat to a more normal rhythm. Deborah freshened her lipstick and leaned back to survey the repaired product. Her mind flashed back to that first dinner with Foster Darrow so many months ago. His wife and daughter had been along that time.

After all these months of talks, dinners, cocktails, and endless negotiations, it was going to be settled tonight. She was nervous about the outcome. Not that it meant the project would fail without Darrow's financial backing. They would have to wine and dine someone else and more time would be lost.

Zane was tense, too. Not that he showed it. But Deborah had gained valuable insight into her employer that night the bronze mask he wore had broken. She no longer accepted what she saw on the surface, but kept looking for the man. In critical situations, such as tonight, she had discovered that he had a tendency to smile with just one side of his mouth.

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