Turn Back the Dawn (6 page)

For a moment she reveled in his gaze—in the obvious
longing, the clear appreciation, the humor lurking just
below the surface. "Tell me more," she said.

And then, inexplicably, his smile faded. "I'm serious,
actually," he said. "And you may not even like what I'm
going to say."

She frowned. "Maybe not. You're making me very nervous all of a sudden."
,

He put a hand under her chin and then held it against
her cheek. "Don't be," he said tenderly. "It's just that we
probably have trouble on our hands. All your talk about
backing up and backing off obviously did no good. Look
at us. And I want to respect your wishes, Kate—to do
what you want. But Lord—do you honestly think that
now we can back off? I just can't quite imagine sitting here
talking with you over the next few weeks without wanting
you." He smiled. "And I don't mean it in the 'mad lust'
sense, as if I'm some teen-aged kid who's just discovered
sex. I
do
mean it, Kate, but in a much subtler, I hope more
meaningful, way."

She laughed. "Well! I'm glad to know I don't have a
sex-starved teen-ager on my hands."

He pursed his lips. "Now, wait a minute," he said,
trying to suppress a smile. "I don't want you going and
thinking the opposite, Kate. My point was—"

"Understood," she finished for him. "And really, Ben,"
she said, looking into his eyes, "I have no idea what to say.
I love everything you've said. I loved kissing you just
now—obviously. But I just... don't feel I know anything.
I
don't know how we're going to work together over the
next few weeks. We'll just have to see." And, though she

had
just finished giving a very neutral, cautioning little
speech,
only moments later she was taking in his hand
some
features with her most seductive of glances.

And
she realized that somewhere along the way, she
had
lost control of her impulses and feelings and actions.
Because
no matter how cautious she had determined to be,
she
was falling very rapidly into the silken net of Ben's
charms.

CHAPTER THREE

Later that afternoon, right after Ben left, Linda buzzed
Kate on the intercom. "Kurt Reeves has been calling all
day. Do you have a chance to talk to him now?"

Kate sighed. "Sure. Anyone else?"

"Uh, yes. Mr. Dayton."

"Great. What did he want?"

"You're asking me?" Linda laughed. "Kate, I'm just a
secretary—how could I be trusted to pass along any information?"

Kate laughed. "Mm—that
is
his attitude, isn't it? Well,
I
'll give him a call and find out."

"Do you want me to get him for you?" Linda asked.

"Uh, no. I'll call Kurt first. But thanks."

She hung up and sighed. Kurt. She didn't know if the
thought of calling him was especially unpleasant because
of him, or because of the contrast to Ben. For she knew
the call would be among her last with him—on a personal
basis, at least. She didn't even want to think about what
it would be like working with him from now on—one of
the reasons she shouldn't, perhaps, have become involved
with him in the first place.

And she was going to do it all over again with Ben

Austin,
most likely: make the same mistakes, suffer the
same
shock of surprise, and then endure the difficulties
that
went along with continuing to work together. Yet, for
all her
attempted rationality, she couldn't imagine that the
problems
she'd have to expect in working with Kurt from
now
on would ever occur with Ben. Not that he seemed
like
a saint; but he seemed so . . . she hesitated. She
couldn't
quite put her finger on it. He was appealing in a
thousand
ways—handsome, sexy, sincere, attractive, in
telligent—
all qualities she had known in many men. But
there
was something extra that somehow found its way
into
all his other good qualities. And then she realized
what
it was. He was secure. Unlike Kurt, he didn't seem
to
need to have his ego stroked by every passing female;
he
didn't have a chasm of insecurity beneath his confident
exterior.
Unlike other men she had known, he didn't seem
to
have to prove himself in any way with her: intellectual
ly,
physically, emotionally. And she knew that, as he him
self
had said, there was no turning back.

If she could have had any confidence in her feelings, she
would
have been happy: she had, after all, apparently
come
across a very interesting, available man. But instead,
the
pleasure of anticipation was mixed with apprehension.
For
she feared that Ben would inevitably turn out like all
the
rest. It was just a matter of time.

In the meantime, however, she would do well to take
advantage of her clearheadedness and break off the relationship with Kurt once and for all. There were no unan
swered
questions there, no mysteries yet to unfold.

She picked up the phone before she could procrastinate
any
longer. And in moments she was talking to Kurt.

"You called," she began.

"Yes. Several times, Kate. You've been in a hell of a
long meeting."

"Yes, well, the new account executive and I had a lot
to discuss."

"From Blake-Canfield? I just got the memo."

"It looks as if we're going to have a great campaign."

"That's great," he said. "But listen. I don't want to talk
about that. I want to get together with you."

She sighed. "I really don't think there's much point, do
you?"

"Why not?" he demanded. "You've kept me in the dark
for days, Kate—some reference to something I don't even
know about."

"Oh, come on!" she cried. "You want it spelled out,
Kurt? Fine. It's over between us, you're seeing another
woman, it would have been over anyway, and that's that.
Okay?"

"I'm not seeing another woman," he said.

"Fine," she said. "I really don't care either way."

"What did you hear?" ]

"I heard you were seeing Cynthia Williston."

He didn't say anything. Then she heard him sigh. "I'm
not seeing her anymore," he said. "You haven't even given
me a chance to tell you that, you know. All of this is after
the fact."

"Oh, come on. What difference does that make?"

"I'd like to see you," he said. "I think we could clear
things up."

"I think we could cloud things up," she said.

"You know what, Kate?" he said in a low, angry voice
she had never heard before. "I don't even know why I'm
arguing. There are plenty of women who aren't hung up
on
monogamy the way you are."

"Fine," she said. "Go find them."

"I will," he answered. "But you know what?"

"What?"

"You're fooling yourself," he said heatedly, "into think
ing
you're something you're not
—
a woman who's inter
ested
in things like faithfulness and all that other
stuff—
for whatever reason—something in your back
ground,
I guess. But you're not really interested in any of
that
crap. Because if you were—really—you never would
have
hooked up with me in the first place. You're just
playing
games, Kate, like women who invite a man up to
their
apartments and are surprised when he makes a
move."

"Well,"
she said quietly. "That's all very interesting. If
you
really think all of that, Kurt, then there really isn't
any more
to say. Good-bye." And she hung up. God! He
had become
so ugly! She knew that he had done so only
because
he was hurt, and angry. But she also knew that
he had
meant every word he had said. He had kept those
thoughts
to himself in the past, for obvious reasons. But
the moment
he knew the relationship was over
—
really
over -he
let her know what he really thought.

And
the worst part was that much of what he had said was
true.

She turned
away from the phone and looked up Mr. Da
yton's
extension. If nothing else, he would distract her fr
om thinking
about Kurt.

Kate,"
he said jovially, when she was finally put thr
ough by
his secretary. "Thanks for returning my call. H
ow's the
campaign going?"

"Fine so far," she said. "It looks very, very promising."

"That's just great," he said. "And that's why I was
calling. I'll tell you what. I think I may have something—
or someone, I should say—who might be able to help you
out. Really give the campaign some zing."

"Oh?" she said coolly, knowing she was bordering on
rudeness but unable to muster any enthusiasm. It didn't
sound promising, coming from him.

"Yes. Kate, I'll tell you what. If you have some time
free, I'd like to bring her by your office. You can chat, get
to know each other a little, and then tell me what you
think."

She hesitated, waiting for him to say more, but apparently he had said all he was going to. "I'm sorry, Mr.
Dayton. I don't quite understand. Who—uh, how is this
person going to fit into my campaign?"

He chuckled. "I thought you'd never ask, Kate. As the
Ivorsen and Shaw girl, naturally. My niece, Alexandra.
She's just in from Kansas—this month, as a matter of fact.
Been staying with the wife and myself, plans on getting her
own place soon. Hitting the modeling agencies at this very
moment, as a matter of fact. And you never did see a
prettier twenty-one-year-old young woman, I swear. I
think you'll love her."

Kate closed her eyes. She didn't need this at all. "Uh,
Mr. Dayton, I'm sure your niece is very pretty. But the
agency is handling the casting, and—"

"Now, look here," he interrupted, "Kate Churchill, I
was in your office not more than twenty-four hours ago
when you explained the entire way the campaign was
going to work. And you and I both know that if you
wanted to cast King Kong's mother as the Ivorsen and

Shaw
girl, you could. It's our campaign, Kate--not Blake-

Canfield's."

She
sighed. "Of course it's our campaign. But the cam
paign,
sir, is an integral whole. All the parts have to fit
together."
As she spoke into what felt like a void, she
realized
she was taking an approach that wasn't quite
right.
She'd never be able to convince him to leave the
campaign
alone. And who knew, anyway? Maybe his
niece
would somehow
—
miraculously
—
be right for the
part.
"Please don't misunderstand me, Mr. Dayton. I'd
love to
meet your niece. And perhaps we can use her for
other
work, if she's not exactly right for the major cam
paign.
In any case, all I meant was that I am working with
Blake-Canfield Advertising, and I wouldn't want to do
any
hiring or even considering without them. But I'll tell
you
what. We're having an audition tomorrow
—
at the
agency.
Why don't you ask your niece to meet me there?
And
then we can see what develops."

"That sounds perfect," he said, obviously mollified.

She
gave him the details, hung up, and then shook her
head.
Since yesterday, she had been expecting Dick Day
ton to
be difficult over the course of the campaign. But she
hadn't
anticipated what had just occurred. Now, if she
didn't
hire his niece
—
a distinct and likely possibility
—
he
would
be hypercritical for the duration of the campaign.
And
if she
did
hire his niece
—
extremely unlikely, but a
possibility
nonetheless
—
her authority would probably be
challenged
whenever Dick Dayton decided his dear little
niece
needed more exposure. Damn.

The next day Kate arrived at Blake-Canfield's offices on
Fifty-fifth
and Madison at eight forty-five. The audition
was scheduled for nine o'clock, but Kate had taken a taxi]
to be sure she'd be on time, and it had miraculously zipped
through traffic twice as quickly as Kate had expected.

After finding out from the receptionist that Ben wasn't
in yet, Kate sat down on one of the low leather couches
near the door. It was an impressive office, with soft lighting, cream-colored walls and carpeting, and large, blown-
up prints of some of Blake-Canfield's ads. As Kate was
wondering which ones Ben had worked on, a very pretty
dark-haired young woman came in and walked over to the
receptionist.