The Man Upstairs

“I…” she began, then stopped herself. Any explanation would only prolong her embarrassment.

“Are you the only lady in here or do I need to give a holler?” he asked with a flirtatious gleam in his eye.

Dena shook her head. “It’s just me.”

He gave her a thorough appraisal. “Just you, huh?” The look on his face said he definitely appreciated what he saw. “Are you here for Maddie and Dylan’s wedding?”

There was no point in denying it. “Yes, I’m a friend of Maddie’s.”

“Good. You can show me where the party is. I just got here.” His grin was as bold as his body was big. He was definitely handsome, a small scar on his chin adding to the rugged good looks.

“The ballroom’s just down the hall and to your left. I’m sure you’ll be able to find it,” she said stiffly.

“You’re not going to wait for me?”

With a dull ache throbbing in her forehead, she really was in no mood for flirting. “I think you’re a big enough boy to find your own way, don’t you?”

He stepped to the side and, in a gallant gesture, held the door open for her, motioning with his other arm that she should pass. “See you at the dance.”

She almost said, Not if I have my way, but held her tongue. As she walked by him, she couldn’t help but notice how broad he was. Or how good he smelled. Like a campground early in the morning with the scent of pines lingering in the air. She wondered who he was, then realized it didn’t matter. She’d already decided to leave the party. She’d done her duty.

As soon as she was back in the ballroom, she looked for Maddie.

“There you are,” the bride said, extending her hands in a warm welcome that matched her smile. “I’m sorry we haven’t had time to talk.”

“It’s all right,” Dena assured her. “You have so many people here who want to see you. We can catch up another time. Everything’s been just lovely. Thank you so much for inviting me.”

“You’re not leaving, are you?” Her face fell slightly.

“I really would like to stay, but I have an awful headache, and I have to get up early to catch my flight. You don’t mind, do you?” Dena gave her an apologetic look.

Maddie squeezed her hand. “Of course not. Did you have a good time?”

Dena Bailey looked at the beaming bride and knew what she had to say. “Yes. It’s been fun seeing everyone again.” Although “everyone” was actually a couple of women who’d lived on the same dorm floor as she and Maddie during their college years.

“It means so much to me that you came. I’ve missed you. I wish we could get together more often.”

It was exactly what Dena had been thinking all weekend, and she’d been waiting for the opportunity to tell Maddie her news. “We might just get to do that. I may be moving to St. Paul. I interviewed for a job while I was here.”

“You did! That’s great…” Her voice trailed off and her eyes held a look of disappointment. “Only I’m not going to be here. Dylan’s taken an assignment in the south of France. Of course, we’ll come home to visit.”

Dena could only smile weakly and wish them good luck.

“If you haven’t found a place to live, you should talk to my mother-in-law,” Maddie suggested. “She’s looking for someone to rent my room. It would be perfect for you. It’s on the bus line, close to Grand Avenue and all those wonderful little shops and restaurants. The rent is reasonable, too.”

“It’s really kind of you to offer, but—” Dena began.

“But nothing,” Maddie finished for her, pulling her by the hand. “Come. We’ll go talk to Leonie right now. Trust me. You’re going to love 14 Valentine Place.”

CHAPTER ONE

“ARE THOSE GORILLAS on your socks, Bailey?”

Dena had been sitting with her feet propped up on her desk, but she dropped them to the floor when she saw the art director in the doorway of her cubicle. With his slicked-back hair and his dark framed glasses, Greg Watkins reminded her of a smaller version of Clark Kent. She half expected that if he ripped open his shirt she’d see an S on his chest. Although he couldn’t leap from tall buildings or bend steel with his bare hands, he did flaunt his power over her on occasion. She hoped this wasn’t one of those times.

“The world’s a jungle out there,” she answered.

“Don’t I know it,” he said with a knowing lift of his brows.

“So what can I do for you?”

“You can tell me whether or not you’re going to make a donation to the Aaron Jorgenson auction. He’s the high school kid who was injured in the skiing accident. Kramer’s taken a special interest in this event because the kid goes to his church.” Greg had a habit of referring to people by their last names, even the creative director who was the head of the advertising agency.

“They’re having a benefit dinner to raise money to help pay the medical bills, right?”

“You got it. I don’t see your name on the list.” He waved a clipboard in midair.

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to attend,” she said apologetically, then reached for her purse. “But I’d be happy to make a cash donation.”

“It would be better if you donated an item for the auction…preferably something that will bring in big bucks.”

“Like what?”

He shrugged. “Anything. I’m donating a tour of the Channel 8 studio and lunch with a news anchor. You probably heard that my sister’s their newscaster?”

Dena nodded. “I suppose I could ask my brother to help me out, but I don’t think lunch with a mechanic would have quite the same appeal, do you?” She gave him a wry smile.

“Probably not,” he answered with his own understanding grin. “But there are any number of items you could donate. Seriously, Bailey, this could be an opportunity for you to catch Kramer’s eye.”

“You mean if I bring in something unique he’ll remember my name?”

“You keep doing work like that and he’ll notice you,” he said, looking over her shoulder to the mockups lining her shelves.

“I’m good at packages,” she admitted in a tone that was not the least bit pretentious, just honest.

“So I’ve noticed…as have a lot of other people. So what do you say? Are you going to donate an item?”

She hesitated a second, then said, “All right, put me down. For what, I don’t know, but I’ll come up with something.”

He pulled a pen from behind his ear and wrote her name on the clipboard. “I’m sure you will. You’re clever. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be here.”

She knew it was true. To land a job at an advertising agency like Delaney Design, one needed to be better than good. Getting hired had been a boost to her ego and an affirmation that she’d made the right decision in leaving her job in marketing to pursue a career in graphic design. Unfortunately, with the new job came the pressure to perform. Everyone at Delaney was talented. It wasn’t enough to simply be good.

Greg Watkins straightened. “You’ll need to let me know by next Friday what you’re donating to the auction. The benefit is February 10. I have to tell you, Bailey, Kramer’s going to be pleased to see your name on the list.” He gave her a mock salute and slipped out of her cubicle.

Dena didn’t want to simply please the creative director. She wanted to impress him, to prove to him that she belonged at the prestigious agency.

It wasn’t anything new—proving herself. She’d been doing it most of her life and she’d do it now. She reached for the phone to call the one person who might be able to help her—her brother.