Page 85 of Tender Offer
Next to a black fireplace is a gilded desk where a woman sits wearing a collared dress and a deep scowl. Beady black eyes slide up my sheer black panty hose to the high-waist shorts peeking out from underneath my blazer.
She can wield her Viola Swamp nose, daggered brows, and pointed chin at someone else. My outfit is an office edit inspired by the runway. I look damn good.
“I’m here to see Mr. Donnelley. I have an appointment.” Squeezing myself into Preston’s schedule today took a special conjuring of patience.
She reaches for her phone. “I’ll need to clear it with Ms. Kidwell.”
“I have an appointment.”
“And I need to clear it with Ms. Kidwell,” she grits through veneers and flips her black hair over her shoulder. There’s something she mumbles in French about Americans being rude.
The nerve.
“That won’t be necessary. I’m—”
“Madison.”
Bellamy saunters over to Cruella’s desk and smirks at the older woman. With a streak of gray and red lips, she’s still watching me like I pissed her off for breathing. It wouldn’t surprise me if she skins Dalmatian puppies for fun.
“I’ll take care of her, Rosalind,” Bellamy says, her eyes trained on me. “This way.”
She leads us down a hallway with more obnoxious chandeliers. Black and white photos of Donnelley properties framed in gold line a wall across from a bank of windows.
We reach a white door with a gold plaque bearing Bellamy’s name. She motions for me to enter.
“Have a seat.” She shuts the door and nods to the cream chair across from her glass desk. Wall molding extends from the floor to the ceiling with matching panels. Unlike the rest of the building, it’s cozy, homey, with beige drapes and furnishings.
“I’ll stand. Where is Preston?”
“Busy working.” Bellamy leans against her desk and crosses her bare legs at the ankles. The mini skirt hugging her narrow waist flashes slim thighs. “How can I help you?”
“You can’t.” I cut my eyes at her with a fake smile she returns.
Bellamy lifts one shoulder, picking an imaginary piece of lint from the houndstooth blouse molded to her breasts. A nipple will pop out if she breathes the wrong way.
“Like I said, Madison. Preston is busy.”
“I’ll wait. LikeIsaid, I have an appointment.”
Her grin spreads. “About that.” She pushes off the desk and takes slow steps into my personal space. I’m not violent by nature, but I feel the temptation to let my hands go. “I took the liberty of removing you from his schedule.”What?“He has a lot on his plate here in Paris. The call he’s on now will last for most of the afternoon. Then we have a dinner reservation with a client. But I’ll tell him you stopped by.”
It occurs to me that Bellamy has never seen Preston in love. She’s been a mainstay, which explains why she’s so protective over him.
That, and she’s a bitch.
“You’re stunning. More beautiful than anyone I’ve seen him with.” My frown curls the corners of Bellamy’s mouth upward. “Enjoy him while it lasts. They never do.”
“Mmm.” I nod. “Tell me something. Does it get cold lurking in the shadows, waiting for him to see you? I was that delusional once. While we’re sharing advice, here’s a tip: Fall in love with someone who will actually love you back.”
All pleasantries fade. The anger she suppressed now flushes her ivory complexion. Her chin sets in a stubborn line, and her high cheekbones go hollow on a deep exhale.
This is who I wanted to see.
Preston and William don’t pick up on the games she plays, but I do, and now she’s showed her hand. I believe Bellamy caresfor Preston. I also believe she thinks he’ll wake up one day and realize he wasted years not choosing her.
He made his choice; she’s looking at it.
Not that he’s ever mentioned her outside of a professional setting. This little display is a last stand out of fear.
