Reluctant Deception - Cambria Smyth Page 0,69

that she was literally at his doorstep, she wanted another week--no, another month--to prepare for their confrontation.

Libby took a deep breath then resolved it was best for all concerned to get this over with today. Here. Now. So she could get on with her life. A life without Christopher Darnell.

The revolving door whooshed behind Libby as she stepped into a three-story lobby drenched in bright sun streaming from several skylights overhead, giving the large space the feel of an atrium. The lobby's stark angles and lines were softened by potted plants, comfortable-looking upholstered chairs and sofas, and plush area rugs. A uniformed doorman directed her to the elevators and instructed her to get off at the top floor.

Two minutes later, Libby emerged from the elevator and found herself in the corporate offices of Darnell Development. Directly in front of her was a bank of floor to ceiling windows which overlooked picturesque Rittenhouse Square and a good portion of downtown Philadelphia including the wharves along Dock Street. The waiting area was businesslike but surprisingly cozy, with red leather wing chairs grouped around a rich navy and red Persian rug.

Libby approached a pretty, young receptionist who was beautifully dressed in a tailored suit and announced herself. The receptionist led Libby down a long hallway to what had to be Chris's office located at its far end. His secretary sat at an expensive-looking cherry desk which matched the cherry paneled walls of a waiting area decorated in the same navy and red as the other outside the elevator. A massive, raised panel door bore a brass plaque handsomely engraved with "Christopher Darnell, President."

Libby's imagination, and heartbeat, shifted into high gear as she pictured Chris behind the tightly closed door, seated at a massive desk, radiating confidence and strength. Restraining herself from barging into his office to be done with the unpleasantness ahead, Libby pasted a bright smile on her face and approached the secretary.

"Hello," she said, with all the self-assurance she could muster. "I have a two o'clock appointment with Mr. Darnell. Would you please announce me as 'Libby Chatham' ? I'm afraid when Mrs. McElroy made the appointment she got me confused with someone else."

The secretary, who until now had barely acknowledged Libby's presence, glanced up sharply. The shock of recognizing Libby's name was clearly conveyed by the startled look on her face.

"You're Libby Chatham?" she asked, her eyes widening.

Libby merely nodded in assent.

"Are you sure you want to meet with Mr. Darnell?" the secretary confirmed with disbelief.

Libby suddenly had the sinking realization that her reputation within Darnell Development was much worse than she'd ever suspected. So much the better she decided with renewed determination.

"I'm positive." She wasn't going to back down now.

"I'll tell him you're here. Why don't you wait over there," she directed, pointing to an overstuffed chair near a glass-topped coffee table covered with neatly arranged magazines.

Too nervous to read, Libby sat down as instructed and watched the steady stream of employees who dropped off stacks of papers and blueprints with Chris's secretary. They spoke in hushed tones, acting as though the boss was having a bad day and they had no desire to further add to his troubles.

After ten minutes, the door to Chris's office opened and a very frazzled-looking young executive stepped out, closing the door so quickly behind him that Libby never got a glimpse inside. Pulling a wrinkled handkerchief from his pants pocket, he nervously mopped his sweat-beaded brow.

"The boss is sure loaded for bear today, Cheryl," he complained to Chris's secretary, his voice loud enough for Libby to hear every word. "I feel glad to be alive after that meeting."

"Yeah, he's in rare form, alright," Cheryl agreed. "I'm not sure why, though. He told me his London deal went off without a hitch."

"Well, you wouldn't know it by the black mood he's in," he said, shaking his head.

Cheryl's voice dropped a full octave, so Libby couldn't hear the rest of the conversation, but as the young man kept repeatedly glancing back at Libby with undisguised curiosity, Libby decided they were talking about her. She was about to escape their attention by walking over to the windows when the man strode purposely toward her.

"Ms. Chatham?" he addressed her tentatively.

"Yes?" Libby replied, wondering what he could possibly want with her.

"Hello. I'm Henry Tremont," he said, extending his right hand.

Libby endured his vigorous handshake while questioning his intentions.

"I had to come over and introduce myself. You're a legend around here and I just had to meet the