Ready for Marriage

by Debbie Macomber

  Mary Jo wondered if she was being unfair to assume that Evan was looking for vengeance, for a means of making her life miserable. Perhaps she’d misjudged him.

  Perhaps. But she sincerely doubted it.

  “I’m taking my lunch now,” Mrs. Sterling said, pulling open the bottom drawer of her desk and taking out her handbag. She hesitated. “You will be all right here by yourself, won’t you?”

  “Of course.” Mary Jo made an effort to sound infinitely confident, even if she wasn’t. Evan’s legal assistant, Peter McNichols, was on vacation for the next couple of weeks, so she’d be dealing with Evan entirely on her own.

  Mary Jo wasn’t sure she was emotionally prepared for that just yet. The shaky, unsure feeling in the pit of her stomach reminded her of the first time she’d stood in front of a classroom filled with five-year-olds.

  No sooner had Mrs. Sterling left when Evan summoned Mary Jo. Grabbing a pen and pad, she hurried into his office, determined to be the best substitute secretary he could have hired.

  “Sit down,” he instructed in a brisk, businesslike tone.

  Mary Jo complied, sitting on the very edge of the chair, her back ramrod-straight, her shoulders stiff.

  He reached for a small, well-worn black book and flipped through the flimsy pages, scrutinizing the names. Mary Jo realized it had to be the typical bachelor’s infamous “black book.” She knew he had a reputation, after all, as one of Boston’s most eligible bachelors. Every six months or so, gossip columns speculated on Evan Dryden’s current love interest. A little black book was exactly what she expected of him.

  “Order a dozen red roses to be sent to Catherine Moore,” he said, and rattled off the address. Mary Jo immediately recognized it as being in a prestigious neighborhood. “Suggest we meet for lunch on the twenty-fifth. Around twelve-thirty.” He mentioned one of Boston’s most elegant restaurants. “Have you got that?” he asked.

  “I’ll see to it immediately,” Mary Jo said crisply, revealing none of her feelings. Evan had done this on purpose. He was having her arrange a lunch date with one of his many conquests in order to humiliate her, to teach her a lesson. It was his way of telling her that he’d recovered completely from their short-lived romance. There were any number of women who would welcome his attentions.

  Well, Mary Jo got the message, loud and clear. She stood, ready to return to her desk.

  “There’s more,” Evan said.

  Mary Jo sat back down and was barely able to keep up with him as he listed name after name, followed by phone number and address. Each woman was to receive a dozen red roses and an invitation to lunch, with time and place suggested.

  When he’d finished, Mary Jo counted six names, each conjuring up a statuesque beauty. No doubt every one of them could run circles around her in looks, talent and, most important, social position.

  Mary Jo didn’t realize one man could find that many places to eat with so many different women, but she wisely kept her opinion to herself. If he was hoping she’d give him the satisfaction of a response, he was dead wrong.

  She’d just finished ordering the flowers when Damian Dryden stepped into the office.

  “Hello,” he said. His eyes widened with surprise at finding her sitting at Mrs. Sterling’s desk.

  Mary Jo stood and extended her hand. “I’m Mary Jo Summerhill. We met briefly last week.” She didn’t mention the one other time she’d been introduced to Damian, certain he wouldn’t remember.

  It was well over three years ago. Evan and Mary Jo had been sailing, and they’d run into Damian at the marina. Her first impression of Evan’s older brother was that of a shrewd businessman. Damian had seemed stiff and somewhat distant. He’d shown little interest in their cheerful commentary on sailing and the weather. From conversations she’d previously had with Evan regarding his brother, she’d learned he was a serious and hardworking lawyer, and that was certainly how he’d struck her—as someone with no time for fun or frivolity. Currently, he was a Superior Court judge, but he often stopped in at the family law firm. Apparently the two brothers were close friends, as well as brothers.

  The man she’d met on the dock that day and the one who stood before her now might have been two entirely different men. Damian remained serious and hardworking, but he was more relaxed now, more apt to smile. Mary Jo was convinced that marriage and fatherhood had made the difference, and she was genuinely happy for him and for Jessica. They seemed perfect for each other.

  “You’re working for the firm now?” Damian asked.

  “Mrs. Sterling will be traveling in Europe this summer,” Mary Jo explained, “and Evan, uh, offered me the job.” Which was a polite way of saying he’d coerced her into accepting the position.

  “But I thought—” Damian stopped abruptly, then grinned. “Is Evan in?”

  “Yes. I’ll tell him you’re here.” She reached for the intercom switch and announced Damian, who walked directly into Evan’s office.

  Mary Jo was acquainting herself with the filing system when she heard Evan burst out laughing. It really wasn’t fair to assume it had something to do with her, but she couldn’t help believing that was the case.

  Damian left a couple of minutes later, smiling. He paused in front of Mary Jo’s desk. “Don’t let him give you a hard time,” he said pleasantly. “My wife mentioned having you over for lunch last week, but she didn’t say you’d accepted a position with the firm.”

  “I…I didn’t know it myself at the time,” Mary Jo mumbled. She hadn’t actually agreed to the job until much later, after she’d spent a few days sorting through her limited options.

  “I see. Well, it’s good to have you on board, Mary Jo. If you have any questions or concerns, don’t hesitate to talk to Evan. And if he does give you a hard time, just let me know and I’ll straighten him out.”

  “Thank you,” she said, and meant it. Although she couldn’t very well see herself complaining to one brother about the other….

  She decided to change her attitude about the whole situation. She’d forget about Evan’s probable motives and, instead, start looking at the positive side of this opportunity. She’d be able to help her parents now, without dipping into her own savings. Things could definitely be worse.

  Mary Jo didn’t learn just how much worse until Wednesday—the first day she was working on her own. Mrs. Sterling had spent the first two days of the week acquainting Mary Jo with office procedures and the filing system. She’d updated her on Evan’s current cases, and Mary Jo felt reasonably confident she could handle whatever came up.

  He called her into his office around eleven. “I need the William Jenkins file.”

  “I’ll have it for you right away,” she assured him. Mary Jo returned to the outer office and the filing cabinet, and sorted through the colored tabs. She located three clients named Jenkins, none of whom was William. Her heart started to pound with dread as she hurried to another filing drawer, thinking it might have been misfiled.

  Five minutes passed. Evan came out of his office, his movements as brusque and irritated as his voice. “Is there a problem?”

  “I…can’t seem to find the William Jenkins file,” she said, hurriedly riffling through the files one more time. “Are you sure it isn’t on your desk?”

  “Would I have asked you to find it if I had it on my desk?” She could feel his cold stare directly between the shoulder blades.

  “No, I guess not. But it isn’t out here.”

  “It has to be. I distinctly remember giving it to Mrs. Sterling on Monday.”

  “She had me replace all the files on Monday,” Mary Jo admitted reluctantly.

  “Then you must have misfiled it.”

  “I don’t recall any file with the name Jenkins,” she said stubbornly. She didn’t want to make an issue of this, but she’d been extremely careful with every file, even double-checking her work.

  “Are you telling me I didn’t return the file? Are you calling me a liar?”

  This wasn�
�t going well. “No,” she said in a slow, deliberate voice. “All I’m saying is that I don’t recall replacing any file with the name Jenkins on it.” Their gazes met and locked in silent battle.

  Evan’s dark eyes narrowed briefly. “Are you doing this on purpose, Mary Jo?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Absolutely not.” Outraged, she brought her chin up and met his glare. “You can think whatever you like of me, but I’d never do anything so underhanded as hide an important file.”

  She wasn’t sure if he believed her or not, and his lack of trust hurt her more than any words he might have spoken. “If you honestly suspect I’d sabotage your office, then I suggest you fire me immediately.”

  Evan walked over to the cabinet and pulled open the top drawer. He was searching through the files, the same way she had earlier.

  Silently Mary Jo prayed she hadn’t inadvertently missed seeing the requested file. The humiliation of having him find it would be unbearable.

  “It isn’t here,” he murmured, sounding almost surprised.

  Mary Jo gave an inward sigh of relief.

  “Where could it possibly be?” he asked impatiently. “I need it for an appointment this afternoon.”

  Mary Jo edged a couple of steps toward him. “Would you mind if I looked in your office?”

  He gestured toward the open door. “By all means.”

  She sorted through the stack of files on the corner of his desk and leafed through his briefcase, all to no avail. Glancing at the clock, she groaned inwardly. “You have a luncheon appointment,” she reminded him.

  “I need that file!” he snapped.

  Mary Jo bristled. “I’m doing my best.”

  “Your best clearly isn’t good enough. Find that file.”

  “I’ll do a much better job of it if you aren’t here breathing down my neck. Go and have lunch, and I’ll find the Jenkins file.” She’d dismantle the filing cabinets one by one until she’d located it, if that was what it took.

  Evan hesitated, then glanced at his watch. “I won’t be long,” he muttered, reaching for his jacket and thrusting his arms into the sleeves. “I’ll give you a call from the restaurant.”

  “All right.”

  “If worse comes to worst, we can reschedule the client,” he said as he buttoned the jacket. Evan had always been a smart dresser, she reflected irrelevantly. No matter what the circumstances, he looked as if he’d just stepped off a page in Esquire or G.Q.

  “Look” Evan said, pausing at the door. “Don’t worry about it. The file has to surface sometime.” He seemed to be apologizing, however indirectly, for his earlier bout of bad temper.

  She nodded, feeling guilty although she had no reason. But the file was missing and she felt responsible, despite the fact that she’d never so much as seen it.

  Since she’d brought her lunch with her to work, Mary Jo nibbled at it as she sorted through every single file drawer in every single cabinet. Mrs. Sterling was meticulously neat, and not a single file had been misplaced.

  Mary Jo was sitting on the carpet, files spread around her, when Evan phoned.

  “Did you find it?”

  “No, I’m sorry, Evan…Mr. Dryden,” she corrected quickly.

  His lengthy pause added to her feelings of guilt and confusion. She’d been so determined to be a good replacement. By heaven, she’d vowed, she was going to give him his money’s worth. Yet here it was—her day of working alone—and already she’d failed him.

  By the time Evan was back at the office, she’d reassembled everything. He made the call to reschedule the appointment with William Jenkins, saving her the task of inventing an excuse.

  At three o’clock her phone rang. It was Gary, and the instant she recognized his voice, Mary Jo groaned inwardly.

  “How’d you know where to reach me?” she asked, keeping her voice low. Evan was sure to frown on personal phone calls, especially from a male friend. After their confrontation that morning, she felt bad enough.

  “Your mom told me you were working for Daddy Warbucks now.”

  “Don’t call him that,” she said heatedly, surprised at the flash of anger she experienced.

  Gary was silent, as if he, too, was taken back by her outburst. “I apologize,” he said, sounding genuinely contrite. “I didn’t phone to start an argument. I wanted you to know I’ve taken our talk last Sunday to heart. How about dinner and dancing this Saturday? We could go to one of those all-you-can-eat places that serve barbecued ribs, and shuffle our feet a little afterward.”

  “Uh, maybe we could talk about this later.”

  “Yes or no?” Gary cajoled. “Just how difficult can it be? I thought you’d be pleased.”

  “It isn’t a good idea to call me at the office, Gary.”

  “But I’ll be at the fire station by the time you’re off work,” he explained. “I thought you wanted us to spend more time together. That’s what you said, isn’t it?”

  Was that what she’d said? She didn’t think so. Not exactly. “Uh, well…” Why, oh why, was life so complicated?

  “I’m glad you spoke up,” Gary continued when she didn’t, “because I tend to get lazy in a relationship. I want you to know how much I appreciate your company.”

  “All right, I’ll go,” she said ungraciously, knowing it was the only way she was likely to get him off the phone quickly. “Saturday evening. What time?”

  “Six okay?. I’ll pick you up.”

  “Six is fine.”

  “We’re going to have a great time, Mary Jo. Just you wait and see.”

  She wasn’t at all convinced of that, but she supposed she didn’t have any right to complain. Eager to please, Gary was doing exactly what she’d asked of him. And frankly, dinner with Gary was a damn sight better than sitting home alone.

  No sooner had she hung up the phone when Evan opened his door and stared at her, his look hard and disapproving. He didn’t say a word about personal phone calls. He didn’t have to. The heat radiated from her cheeks.

  “Th-that was Gary,” she said, then wanted to kick herself for volunteering the information. “I explained that I can’t take personal phone calls at the office. He won’t be phoning again.”

  “Good,” he said, and closed the door. It clicked sharply into place, as if to underline his disapproval. She returned to the letter she was typing into the computer.

  Just before five, Mary Jo collected the letters that required Evan’s signature and carried them to his office. He was reading over a brief, and momentarily glanced up when she knocked softly and entered the room.

  “Is there anything else you’d like me to do before I leave?” she asked, depositing the unsigned letters onto the corner of his desk.

  He shook his head. “Nothing, thank you. Good night, Ms. Summerhill.”

  He sounded so stiff and formal. As if he’d never held her, never kissed her. As if she’d never meant anything to him and never would.

  “Good night, Mr. Dryden.” She turned quickly and walked out of the office.

  After their brief exchange regarding the missing file, they’d been coolly polite to each other during the rest of the day.

  If his intention was to punish her, he couldn’t have devised a more effective means.

  Because she loved Evan. She’d never stopped loving him, no matter how she tried to convince herself otherwise. Being with him every day and maintaining this crisp, professional facade was the cruelest form of punishment.

  Once she was home, Mary Jo kicked off her low heels, slumped into the rocking chair and closed her eyes in a desperate attempt to relax. She hadn’t worked for Evan a full week yet, and already she wondered if she could last another day.

  The rest of the summer didn’t bear thinking about.

  “WHAT I DON’T UNDERSTAND,” Marianna Summerhill said as she chopped up chicken for the summer salad, “is why you and Evan ever broke up.”

  “Mom, please, it was a long time ago.”

  “Not so l
ong. Two, three years.”

  “Do you want me to set the table?” Mary Jo asked, hoping to distract her mother. That she hadn’t seen through this unexpected dinner invitation only showed how weary she was, how low her defenses. Her mother had phoned only the evening before, when Mary Jo was still recovering from working on her own with Evan; she’d insisted Mary Jo join them for dinner and “a nice visit.”

  “So, how’s the job going?” her father asked, sitting down at the kitchen table. The huge dining room table was reserved for Sunday dinners with as many of the family that could come.

  “Oh, just great,” Mary Jo said, working up enough energy to offer him a reassuring smile. She didn’t want her parents to know what the job was costing her emotionally.

  “I was just saying to Mary Jo what a fine young man Evan Dryden is.” Her mother set the salad in the center of the table and pulled out a chair.

  “He certainly is a decent sort. You were dating him a while back, weren’t you?”

  “Yes, Dad.”

  “Seems to me the two of you were real serious.” When she didn’t immediately answer, he added, “As I recall, he gave you an engagement ring, didn’t he? You had him come to dinner that one time. Whatever happened, Mary Jo? Did our family scare him off?”

  Mary Jo was forever bound to hide the truth. Evan had been an instant hit with her family. They’d thrown open their arms and welcomed him, delighted that Mary Jo had found a man to love. Not for the world would she let her parents be hurt. Not for the world would she tell them the truth.

  How could she possibly explain that their only daughter, whom they adored, wasn’t good enough for the high-and-mighty Drydens? The minute Mary Jo met Evan’s mother, she sensed the older woman’s disappointment in her. Lois Dryden was looking for more in a daughter-in-law than Mary Jo could ever be.

  Their private chat after dinner had set the record straight. Evan was destined for politics and would need a certain type of wife, Mrs. Dryden had gently explained. Mary Jo didn’t hear much beyond that.

  Mrs. Dryden had strongly implied that Mary Jo would hinder Evan’s political aspirations. She might very well ruin his life. There’d been some talk about destiny and family expectations and the demands on a political wife—Mary Jo’s memories of the conversation were vague. But her understanding of Mrs. Dryden’s message had been anything but.