Eternally Yours - Brenda Jackson [42]
Syneda raised a brow at her secretary’s comment. “What are you talking about, Joanna?”
“There was a delivery for you first thing this morning.”
Upon opening the door to her office, Syneda halted, shocked. Vases of flowers were everywhere.
“These are for me?” Syneda asked. She stood there, blank and amazed.
Joanna giggled. “Yes, they’re all for you.”
Joanna’s response hit Syneda full force. “You’re kidding.”
“No, I’m not kidding. It took four guys to deliver them all. All these flowers make your office look like a flower shop. The guy definitely has great taste.”
Syneda walked farther into the room. “They are beautiful, aren’t they?”
“That’s an understatement. Whoever sent these is definitely my kind of guy.”
Syneda turned and faced her secretary with a smile on her lips that she couldn’t contain. “Do me a favor and have another table brought in. Also, Joanna, I have a meeting with John Drayton. Please set up conference room B for our use. It will be a little too crowded for us to meet in here.”
Joanna glanced around the room. “You think one table will do it? I think we need a couple of tables in here,” she said teasingly, as she headed for the door. “The card that came with the flowers is in the middle of your desk.” She left, closing the door behind her.
Syneda’s hand shook nervously as she picked up the envelope and pulled out the card.
This weekend was more special to me than you’ll ever know.
Clayton
Smiling, Syneda slipped the card back in the envelope and placed it in her desk.
“Ms. Walters?” Joanna’s voice came through the intercom on her desk.
“Yes.”
“Mr. Drayton has arrived. I have him settled in conference room B.”
“Thanks, Joanna. I’m on my way.”
Syneda looked at the distinguished-looking man sitting across the desk from her. His daughter, a young woman of twenty, had made a mistake and, being from a well-respected and wealthy family, they were not eager to share her mistake with the world. Nor did they want to make her pay for it for the rest of her life.
“Why didn’t your daughter come with you? Are you sure she wants to give her child up for adoption, Mr. Drayton?”
“She’ll do what’s best for the family.”
Syneda sighed. The man had said earlier that his daughter would not consider an abortion, and Syneda couldn’t help wondering if perhaps Cassie Drayton was giving up her child under duress. “What about the child’s father?”
“What about him?” John Drayton did not try to disguise his annoyance with her question.
“Even if your daughter is willing to give her child up for adoption, we’ll need the consent of the father, Mr. Drayton.”
“Consider it done. He won’t oppose it,” he replied with easy, smug confidence.
“I take it marriage has been ruled out as an option?” Syneda asked pointedly.
“Of course it has.” His curt response held a note of impatience. “All I want is for your firm to arrange a private adoption. I’m sure there’s some childless couple somewhere who would love to—”
“Adopt your grandchild?”
Mr. Drayton did not flinch at her words, nor did he seem remorseful when he answered. “Yes.”
“We’ll have to meet with your daughter, of course.”
“That can be arranged.”
“And the father?”
“Prepare the required papers. I’ll see that he signs them.”
Syneda angled her head and noted how John Drayton basked in the knowledge of his power. “Yes. I’m sure you will.”
Restlessly, Syneda paced through her apartment that evening. Every room she went through reminded her of Clayton. Memories of their weekend together assailed her at every turn. He had spent less than seventy-two hours in her apartment and already his presence was missed.
It’s not the quantity of time but the quality of time, her mind screamed. And Clayton gave you top quality time.
She stood in the doorway of her bedroom, remembering Clayton in it. A part of her wished he was there in it now. Another part of her knew that it was best that he wasn’t, and that the best thing for her to do was to forget a weekend that she knew deep down she never would.
She had not even called to thank