Saying Yes to the Boss

by Jackie Braun

  “Mom, Ree and I are not…carrying on,” he replied emphatically.

  “They’re not, Mom,” Ali called from the hallway. “If they were, he wouldn’t be so frustrated and moody.”

  “If I want to listen to that kind of coarse talk, Alice Marie, I’ll turn on cable, thank you very much,” their mother admonished. “You and Audra go check on the baby and give us some privacy.”

  Dane couldn’t help snickering when he heard two muffled, “Yes, ma’ams.”

  Still, any hope he’d harbored that the topic was now closed withered quickly as his mother launched into a five-minute lecture on the sanctity of marriage.

  Afterward Dane said quietly, “Mom, I know how the situation must look to you, but Ree’s separated from her husband and getting a divorce. They haven’t lived together in more than two years.”

  “That doesn’t make her single.”

  “No, but I haven’t done anything wrong and neither has she.” He reached for the pie to break off a piece of flaky crust, only to have his hand slapped.

  “What happened to Julie? She was such a nice girl.”

  “She is nice. She’s just not…” Ree, he thought.

  “I don’t want to see you hurt,” Beth Conlan said. She laid a hand against his cheek, the same hand that had checked for fevers and bandaged scraped knees.

  “How can I be hurt?” He took his mom’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Regina and I aren’t even officially dating.”

  “But you love her.”

  Dane swallowed, waiting for the denial that never made it past his lips. Love? He hadn’t said that word aloud. He hadn’t allowed himself to think it in context with Ree. But that’s what he felt all right.

  He’d always considered himself a patient man, levelheaded and in control. He’d been anything but since that first, fateful meeting. He wanted Ree. More than just wanting her, he wanted to be with her.

  Forever.

  “She’s the one, Mom,” he said, accepting the truth at last. “She’s the one I’ve been waiting for.”

  “And if you have to keep waiting?”

  The prospect had his gut clenching, but his tone was firm when he said, “I will. She’s worth it.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  IT WAS Thanksgiving Day, but Dane was humming “Winter Wonderland” as he jogged up the Victorian’s front steps, his breath wreathing white around him in the frigid November air. It had snowed overnight, a light dusting that turned the bare tree branches into something magical.

  Or maybe that was just how he felt because he would be spending the day with Regina, celebrating what he hoped would be the first of many holidays together. The past couple weeks had been perfect…as perfect as they could be under the current circumstances. They’d spent every day and part of every evening together laughing, talking, sharing meals.

  Soon, Dane told himself, their self-imposed lookbut-don’t-touch restrictions would be lifted. Soon, they would be free to talk about more than what the future held for the house they were restoring.

  He knocked once on the door’s oval of stained glass and tucked his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. He should have worn a heavier coat, he thought, while he waited for her to answer. The plan was to first hit the parade that snaked down Trillium’s main street and then head to Audra’s house, where his family was assembling for the day’s feast.

  Ree had insisted she would bring a dish as well. He’d gone to the grocery store with her the evening before, nearly expiring from desire as she’d picked out the ingredients for one of her nonna’s recipes. He got the feeling she knew damned well how much her Italian inflection turned him on when she’d leaned over and seductively whispered “oregano” in his ear.

  Despite her continued concern, Beth Conlan had been the one to issue the invitation. No one should be alone on a holiday intended to celebrate sharing and friendship, his mother had said.

  When the door opened, Regina smiled, but her expression was tight and she seemed oddly apprehensive.

  “Happy Thanksgiving,” Dane said. Giving in to impulse, he leaned forward to kiss her cheek. He wanted to indulge in much more than that solitary, innocent peck. Not yet, though. Not yet.

  She glanced over her shoulder nervously—guiltily?—before wishing him the same in return. Then, despite not having on a coat, she stepped outside. “I tried to catch you before you left your house and you didn’t answer your cell. I…I need to talk to you.”

  “Can we talk in the truck?” He hitched a thumb over his shoulder, impatient to be off. “The parade starts in less than an hour and we’re going to miss the next ferry if we dawdle too long.”

  “This can’t wait.” She wrapped her arms around herself, shivered.

  “Well, at least let’s go inside. It’s freezing out here.”

  “No, Dane. I—”

  But he reached around her to open the door. “This is ridiculous, Ree. You’re shaking.” With a gentle nudge, he backed her inside.

  And then Dane felt as if he had stepped into a bad dream. A pair of men’s shoes was on the rug, right next to a large suitcase. Atop the suitcase rested a hat, wide-rimmed and dust-covered, the kind that would keep the sun out of a man’s eyes while he worked to unearth fossils and other artifacts in the desert. Dane had seen enough, and yet his gaze moved on to the coat tree in the corner of the foyer and the weathered men’s jacket that hung from its limbs. Dane’s heart bucked once against his ribs and then seemed to skitter to a halt. All the markings of the husband he had once looked for in Regina’s home were there now.

  “Ree?” He glanced over in question and saw her swallow hard.

  “Paul arrived this morning.”

  “Your husband is here?”

  “Don’t call him that,” she pleaded quietly.

  How else should Dane refer to the other man? His thoughts turned grim then. Other man? Chaste as their relationship had been, Dane supposed, technically, that would be him.

  “What does he want?” He asked the question, but he figured he knew. Paul Ritter had returned for his wife.

  “He—”

  The man in question walked into view then. His hair, blond and a little long, was damp from a shower and he was still fastening the buttons on his shirt. He blinked in surprise when he spotted Dane.

  “Hello. I didn’t realize we had company,” he said. He held out a hand, eyes crinkling into an absent smile behind wire-rimmed glasses. “I’m Paul Ritter.”

  “Dane Conlan.”

  “Nice to meet you.” He turned to Ree then. “Where do you keep the aspirin? I’ve got a killer headache.” For Dane’s benefit, he added, “I’ve been traveling all night. The airport was a zoo with people all wanting to get home today.”

  Thanksgiving Day.

  The scene was so damningly domestic, Dane knew he had to leave and leave quickly. Even though he wanted to demand an explanation, the bitter fact remained: He wasn’t entitled to one. And that hurt. God, that hurt.

  “I…I just stopped by to wish Ree a happy Thanksgiving.” It took a Herculean effort to push the words past his stiff lips. “We…we’re work associates.”

  Ree glanced at him sharply. She looked as if he’d slapped her. Dane regretted that, but he was too gutpunched, too heart-gouged to sooth her wounded feelings.

  He intended to leave quickly, to put as much distance between himself and this painful scene as possible, but Ree followed him outside and jogged down the steps after him.

  “Dane! Dane!” she hollered. She reached for his hand. Her fingers felt as cold as his heart when they weaved through his. “Please don’t go. Not like this.”

  “How else should I leave? Should I walk away smiling, Ree? Your husband is back. And I’ve…I’ve got no right to be here.”

  No right to be here, no right to love her. And yet he did. His heart wasn’t just breaking. It was shattering into unsalvageable pieces. And to think he’d once envied his sisters this kind of fathomless emotion. Well, he wanted no
part of it now. He pulled his hand free.

  “My soon-to-be ex-husband,” she stressed. “He got in this morning from Nevada after a long flight, and then just showed up here.” She shook her head in what appeared to be exasperation. “He didn’t even realize it was Thanksgiving Day. Paul’s always been scattered like that.”

  Dane felt marginally better knowing the man had not hightailed it home to be with his wife for the holiday, but that didn’t change the fact that he was back and obviously planned to stay.

  “Not so scattered that he forgot to pack. His luggage is in your foyer. It looks like he intends to be here awhile.”

  “I agreed to let him shower. That’s the extent of it. He’ll be leaving shortly. He knows I’ve made plans for the day.”

  Dane glanced back at the house. “Under the circumstances, I don’t think those plans are valid any longer.”

  “I want to spend the day with you,” she said quietly.

  Dane rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. He couldn’t keep the frustration out of his tone when he snapped, “I want much more than a day, Ree. Haven’t you figured that out by now?”

  Her smile was at odds with the tears glimmering in her eyes. “I’d hoped. I…I want that, too.”

  Where exactly did that leave them?

  The question must have been visible in his expression, because she murmured, “It will just be a little longer. I promise.”

  “A little longer,” he repeated and paced the rest of the distance to his vehicle. Before lifting the door handle, he asked, “Has he signed the divorce papers?”

  “No.” She sighed heavily and walked to his side. “He…he came to Michigan to discuss them. He wants—”

  “His wife.”

  “No, dammit, it’s not like that.” She shook her head violently. “Why won’t you listen?”

  “Because maybe it should be like that,” Dane replied with a defeated sigh. He turned and pointed to the window where another man now stood watching this scene. Where another man stood waiting for Regina. “Maybe Paul has finally figured out what I know—you’re incredible, Ree. You’re sexy, smart, beautiful. You’re passionate in the best sense of the word. He’d be lost without you in his life. Absolutely and irrevocably lost.”

  He touched her cheek, following the streak of her tears with his index finger. “I know,” he said softly. “I know that’s how he would feel, because that’s how I feel.”

  “Oh, Dane.”

  She stepped toward him, but he shook his head, and opened the door to his Trailblazer.

  “I need to go now, Ree.”

  She had no choice but to let him. Long after Dane left, she stood in the driveway. The frigid wind slapped at her, but that wasn’t why she felt so bruised and chilled. I need to go, Dane had told her. He’d never said when or even if he would be back.

  The door opened behind her. “Ree?” Paul called.

  She wanted to ask him to give her a minute, but then, straightening her spine, she decided against it. She had postponed too many things over the years, thinking that by not confronting them she could avoid heartache or disappointment or feeling like a failure. It was time to face the past if she hoped to have any chance at the future that she had so recently begun to believe might be possible.

  “Let’s go in the kitchen,” she said. “I’ll make a fresh pot of coffee and we can talk.”

  Paul nodded.

  “So, that the guy who bought the house?” he asked once they were seated at the table.

  “Yes.”

  “From the look on his face, I’d say he considers you to be more than—what was the phrase he used?—um, a work associate.”

  He wasn’t trying to be cruel. Paul didn’t care deeply enough to do that. But Ree’s heart absorbed the hit anyway.

  “Let’s leave Dane out of this, okay?” She took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “I want to talk about the divorce papers and what it will take to get you to finally sign them.”

  Paul steepled his fingers under his chin and nodded in that distracted way of his, looking more like a professor about to launch into a lecture on some obscure finding than a husband facing the dissolution of his marriage.

  “I’ll sign them, but I think we need to discuss the terms of our settlement first.”

  “Fine. That’s easy enough. As I told you when I first left I don’t want anything from you. I think it’s fair that we leave the marriage with what we brought to it. As for what we accumulated jointly, there’s nothing of significant value.”

  Paul’s bland expression sharpened. “Actually there is. In the letter I received from Bradley Townsend, he was willing to pay a handsome sum for this house and property. The letter took some time to reach me at the dig site and by the time it had, you’d already sold the house. I’m assuming Dane Conlan offered a similar amount.”

  She blinked in surprise, irritation doing battle with her sudden uneasiness over the turn their conversation had taken.

  “The house was mine outright, Paul. My grandmother left it to me. What I sold it for is none of your business. The inheritance laws of this state are clear on that.”

  “When it comes to money, the law is never clear,” he replied.

  She couldn’t believe it. Paul had never cared about money. They’d lived on a shoestring budget for all of their marriage, every extra penny poured back into his chronically underfunded work.

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’ll sign the papers.” He pushed the glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I’ll do it today if you’ll agree to give me half the Victorian’s purchase price.”

  “I’ll do no such thing.” He wasn’t entitled to half of all her grandparents had worked so doggedly to achieve. This visit marked only the second time he’d set foot in the Victorian.

  “Then you’ll leave me no choice but to contest the divorce. Things could drag on for months, maybe longer while the courts decide the matter.”

  She didn’t know if he was bluffing or not. All she knew was that her future with Dane was becoming more complicated by the minute. Would he be willing to wait that long? Or would he decide she wasn’t worth the grief?

  “Why, Paul?” she asked, bewildered. “You’ve never struck me as materialistic. You would have signed the papers before if you’d remembered to get around to it.”

  He actually had the audacity to reach across the table and pat her hand.

  “Here’s the thing, Ree, the economy being what it is, the foundation sponsoring our dig has decided to scale back its funding for next year. We’re going to have to pull out early if we don’t get some extra cash. Even then, I’m going to have to let half the team go.”

  “This is about work? It’s about a stinking dig?” Ree asked incredulously. She almost laughed then, but the situation was too pathetic to warrant humor. Dane—noble, honorable man that he was—had stepped back for this?

  “What did you think?” Paul asked, and the blank and baffled look on his face, fired up Ree’s temper.

  “I think you’d better get out of Dane’s house.”

  Audra and Ali stopped by the following afternoon, bringing Ree leftover turkey and the trimmings, including Beth Conlan’s homemade pumpkin pie.

  “We missed you at dinner yesterday,” Audra said as she nursed LeeAnn. They were seated around the kitchen table.

  “I wanted to be there. Something unexpected came up,” Ree hedged. Then she decided to just spill it. “The truth is, my husband showed up. Dane…Dane was pretty upset when he left here.”

  “He was pretty upset when he got to my house, too,” Audra replied. “He told us you wouldn’t be coming, although he didn’t give us a reason, and then he left. He didn’t even stay for dinner.”

  Ree closed her eyes, but the tears leaked out anyway. They had both spent the holiday alone and miserable. It wasn’t fair.

  “I’m sorry, Ree.” Ali reached over to give her arm a squeeze. “It’s going to be okay. I know things must seem bad right now, but
you and Dane will work this out.”

  “I don’t know.” And Ree meant it. “I’ve tried phoning him—last night and this morning. I keep getting his answering machine and he hasn’t returned my calls.”

  “He just needs time,” Audra said.

  “Time,” Ree sighed. She was beginning to hate that word.

  “What did your husband want?” Ali asked.

  That was the kicker, she thought. “Well, Dane figured Paul was back for me and so he decided he was just going to bow out gracefully.” She sighed heavily. “I love your brother, but God, sometimes his sense of honor can be damned annoying.

  “But the truth is that Paul wants half the money Saybrook’s gave me for the house.” Her laugh was bitter. “He said he needs it to go chasing more fossils. And if I don’t give it to him, he’ll contest the divorce.”

  “It’s a little late for that, isn’t it?” Audra said at the same time Ali asked, “Can he do that?”

  Ree sighed heavily. “I don’t know. I haven’t been able to reach my lawyer because of the holiday weekend, but I think he may be able to do it. I think he still had time to respond to the last batch of paperwork. Part of me is tempted just to give him the money and send him on his way.”

  “Is that what you told him?”

  She smiled now. “No. I told him to go to hell—right after I told him to get out of Dane’s house. He hasn’t wanted anything to do with me or our marriage for years. He shouldn’t profit from my grandparents’ hard work now.”

  Ree took those words to heart as winter began in earnest and the weeks passed. Dane had retreated not just emotionally, but physically. It was now Ali who came on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays to work with Regina and Case Portman on the Victorian’s restoration.

  As the new year got under way, so did the home’s new look. The upstairs bedrooms were rewired to bring them up to code and their walls were in the process of being patched and replastered, after which fresh paint would be applied. Ree had chosen the colors, pairing muted roses with rich burgundies, and pale blues, greens and golds. The paint would coordinate with wallpaper borders, window treatments, throw rugs and bedding.