Larkspur Dreams - By Anita Higman Page 0,30

and then complied with her request. The sounds around him changed. He could hear her breathing. Soft. Steady. Then he felt the tiniest kiss on each eyelid. As delicate as a breeze. That felt pretty good. He opened his eyes again as she sat back down.

“What else do you see, Mr. Holden?”

Everett looked up at the moon and then followed its radiance to her face. “You glow from the reflection. You look like a guardian angel.”

“You do, too.” Lark kissed his cheek and smiled.

A gust of cold air whistled through the pines. “Let’s go back inside.” After another brief kiss, they headed toward the party.

Once inside, Everett noticed people were staring at them. Has something else happened? Or could it be because Lark looks so—new word—spectacular in that blue dress?

“Are you hungry?”

“Very,” Lark said.

“All right. Let’s go for it.”

“While you’re waiting in line, do you mind if I check my lipstick? I think it’s been mussed a little.” She grinned.

“It looks perfect, but I’ll be right here in line.” The moment Lark left his presence, Sylvester Markus, the owner of Ozark Consulting, barreled over to him. Sylvester leaned in to talk quietly. “Well, I guess you heard about Zeta. A day spa.” There was an awkward moment, and then a blubbering bout of laughter. “You’ve been a first-rate contractor, my boy, and so I wanted to talk to you about becoming an employee here. You could take over Zeta’s position, and it would mean a hefty raise. So I’d like to see you in my office tomorrow morning,” he said. “What do you say?”

“All right.” Everett tried not to overreact, but he gave the man plenty of affirmative answers even though he had to dodge his spit as they continued to talk.

After Sylvester walked away, Everett’s mind reeled with the news. Hadn’t he secretly hoped to have a more permanent position there? He glanced around, eager to spot Lark, to tell her about the offer. Suddenly, Everett heard a slapping noise. One of those loud, cracking ones like in the movies when a woman slaps a man. Surely not. But rumors were that Sylvester’s hands could be a bit nomadic with the female personnel.

A few people gasped. The small crowd parted. Everett stared at the sight. Lark appeared flushed as a mortified Sylvester put his fingers up to the red handprint on his face.

Lark strode over to Everett, looking upset. He placed a reassuring arm around her as he frowned his disapproval at the very man who appeared to control a big part of his professional life. Sylvester. What a terrible turn of events.

He wanted to raise his voice at Sylvester, but unfortunately, people were waiting for that very reaction. The party atmosphere and music died out. He could hear their murmurings, and they wanted blood. Or at least a scene of some kind. But there wasn’t going to be an ugly spectacle. Just a promise.

Everett raised his head. “I will not be coming to your office tomorrow to talk about a job or a raise,” he said to Sylvester. “In fact, if this is the kind of sordid behavior promoted at Ozark Consulting, consider our contract terminated.”

Thirteen

Lark gasped. “No,” she whispered.

Everett offered her his arm. She hesitated and then finally circled her arm through his. Why would Everett do this? Granted, the man who pinched her was obviously a womanizer and deserved to be punished, but not like this. And did Everett say something about declining a job and a raise? How could this be happening?

Lark could barely contain herself. She wanted to put everything back the way it was. Right now.

She walked arm in arm with Everett through the crowd and watched it part like the Red Sea. Their stride toward the main doors didn’t let up, but she could hear voices in the crowd. “Way to go,” some guy hollered. And then a woman’s quiet voice not far from them said, “Thank you, Everett.” The only negative comment along the gauntlet was an almost whisper, “You’ll be sorry tomorrow.” Or maybe it was the voice screaming in her head. Her heart sank. She’d dreamed the evening would always be remembered. How brutally true that wish would turn out to be.

Once outside in the foyer, Lark pulled away from Everett. “I’ve kept quiet because I didn’t want to embarrass you, but you can’t do this. I won’t let you.”

Everett led her to a secluded alcove that was surrounded by tall palms. “It’s already done. There’s no turning back.”