right, of course. Other than Rivka, Darren was the only person Lila had told about William. Darren was also the only person who’d seen any of the men she’d gone out with since then.
"All those nights I helped you get ready?" He referred to the times she’d asked him to help her with her hair or makeup before a date. "I was wasting my time and my mascara. None of those men were good enough for you."
That sobered her. "Don’t say that. Nobody isn’t good enough for anybody."
Despite her cryptic response, she was sure Darren knew what she meant. William had told her she wasn’t good enough. Lila had vowed vehemently to never say the same about anyone else.
Her assistant looked chastened. "Sorry. But it’s true."
Lila glanced back to the pile of mail now strewn in an untidy heap across her desk. Nothing could have put a damper on her day, but the pile of work she had to do was a good start. She began sorting the letters.
Darren picked up a few that had slid to the floor, then took the rest from her. "I’ll do this. You have to meet with Corporate Carl in about fifteen minutes."
"Fifteen minutes!" Lila was aghast. She had forgotten about her planning meeting with Carl Houser, the president of Lymen Media. He wanted to discuss where her magazines were heading, an ominous question she wasn’t sure she wanted to answer. Now she only had fifteen minutes to prepare.
"Love does make a person all mush-brained." Darren ducked out of the way before she could slap him. "Relax, Lila, it’s only Corporate Carl. Just hike your skirt up a little and bat those pretty lashes."
That the company president was a known lecher did nothing to extend her confidence. She still needed to come up with justification for the way her four titles were doing in the marketplace. She began digging somewhat frantically for the sheaf of notes she had prepared.
"I don’t even have anything to do with his stupid planning meeting." Lila ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. "It’s all editorial and marketing! I’m just in charge of getting the stupid things out, for Pete’s sake!"
She found the notes exactly where she’d left them. Skimming them, she was relieved to find her reports still made sense. She breathed deeply, finally allowing herself to relax.
Darren watched her solemnly. "I’ve never seen you this flustered. Whatever Mr. Gorgeous did to you last night must not have worn off yet."
She cast him an evil glare. "Darren, I’m not paying you to comment on my love life."
He shrugged. "No, honey, ’cause if you were—"
"I know. I couldn’t afford your salary."
Darren grinned. "Am I going to meet this mystery man or what?"
"He’ll be at Rivka’s opening." Lila still wasn’t sure she looked forward to that little shindig. "It’s going to be a costume party, Darren. Want to come?"
He paused in the doorway. "Are you kidding me? A chance to see that crazy sister of yours, meet your new boyfriend, and party hearty all in drag? I wouldn’t miss it for the world, honey!"
"Something told me you’d like the idea." Lila grinned.
"Don’t worry, Lila. I’ll let you know exactly what I think of him."
Lila gathered her notes. The question wasn’t what Darren might think of Tom. It was what Tom might think of Darren. The thought made her laugh out loud. Still laughing, she left the office to go to her meeting.
The meeting didn’t take long, thank heavens. Carl was brief and to the point. Archery Hunter magazine was the only one of her four titles that was actually doing well. Doll Collector, Early American Crafts, and British Life were all barely breaking even.
Hiding her apprehension, Lila presented her carefully planned reports showing that the fault lay in marketing and advertising, not with production. To her relief and surprise, Carl had emphatically agreed with her and even commended her on her performance under such circumstances and hinted at the prospect of a raise.
Consequently, the high Lila had been on since waking up in Tom’s arms got even higher. Almost whistling, she swung by the mail room to drop off a few things before heading back to her office. She planned to take Darren to a nice, long, expensive lunch.
"Hi, Lila!" The eager voice shot out from behind the tall row of shelves that served as mail slots.
Lila’s good mood dropped a notch. "Hey, Ned. How are you?"
"I’m just dandy." Ned Namey ogled her through one of the slots. "And