Three Brides, No Groom

by Debbie Macomber

  “Hot.”

  “You got it.” She poured him a mug, and then carried it into his office and set it down on the desk with the mail. She started to return to her own room, changed her mind and abruptly turned around. “Clark?”

  He glanced up, his gaze expectant.

  She hesitated, then said, “I’d like to ask you something…personal.”

  “Okay.”

  She hadn’t intended to do this, but nothing ventured, nothing gained. “I signed up for ballroom dancing classes at the community center for Monday, Wednesday and Friday nights, and I was wondering…” She trailed off, wondering if it was wise to put him on the spot.

  “You need to leave the office a few minutes early those days? Sure.”

  “No,” she said, surprised that he didn’t understand what she wanted. “I’d like it if you’d come with me—that is, if you want to.” It would be a lot more fun if she had a partner, although the instructor had said she was welcome to attend without one.

  “I’m not really the dancing type,” he replied.

  Carol thought she heard a bit of regret in his voice, as if he was halfway tempted. “But you could learn, and it would be fun.”

  For a month she’d done nothing but sit in her tiny apartment night after night and feel sorry for herself. The dance classes offered a welcome respite from what was fast becoming monotony.

  “Yes, but—”

  “You could do it,” she coaxed, giving him a warm smile. “No one’s going to laugh at you.”

  “Why me?” he asked.

  “Well, because first off, I like you, and there isn’t any chance of anything romantic developing between us. I mean…well, you know.”

  “No. I don’t know.”

  “Because of Eddie.”

  “What about him?”

  “Anytime now Eddie’s going to want me back and the two of us will get married,” she said.

  “You mean to say you’d actually marry him after what he did to you?” Clark looked shocked.

  She realized it probably sounded as though she had no self-esteem if she would willingly forgive Eddie when he’d treated her so badly. While she had every intention of marrying him—eventually—she would demand he pay a hefty penance first.

  “Eddie can be shallow,” she said, hoping Clark understood. “I know that about him, and I know how easily led he sometimes is. I’ll make the decision about my future with him when the time comes.”

  She could see that her response didn’t please him. He said, “In other words, you’re inviting me to these dance classes of yours because you consider yourself safe in my company because I’m a geek.”

  She didn’t know how to answer.

  “I see,” he told her when she reminded silent. “Well, in that case, perhaps you should ask someone else.” He turned back to his mail, effectively dismissing her.

  Carol felt terrible. Obviously he’d taken her silence as confirmation of his statement. She’d been looking to thank him for being her friend and had ended up insulting him. Worse, she’d managed to start off the week on the wrong foot. Depressed beyond words, she slowly returned to her office and propped her forehead on the heel of her hand.

  Before Eddie canceled the wedding, she’d been a confident and composed woman. Now, it seemed, words twisted themselves around her tongue, and she possessed all the poise of a four-year-old on roller skates.

  That morning set the tone. She and Clark barely exchanged a word over the next four days. At first she assumed she’d insulted him so thoroughly he’d simply chosen to avoid her. Only later did she realize he was working hard. Every now and again he came into her office needing one thing or another. If she wasn’t available, he left instructions on her desk. He arrived early and left after she’d gone home. If it hadn’t been for the other secretaries in the department, she would have felt as though she’d been set adrift on an iceberg.

  Mrs. Derby had thoughtfully prepared a list of instructions for her replacement, and Carol followed them religiously. The other secretaries told her that Clark was deeply involved in developing a revolutionary software program, a project he’d first envisioned while still in college. On Monday the fifteenth he was scheduled to give a demonstration of the program’s capabilities to the company’s board of directors.

  That explained why he had basically ignored her all week.

  Friday afternoon at closing time, she cleaned off her desk and was ready to leave when he appeared and glanced around.

  “Carol, could you—” He stopped abruptly when he saw her standing with her purse draped over her shoulder. He seemed surprised, until he glanced at the wall clock and noted the time. “I didn’t realize it was so late.”

  “Do you need me?”

  He hesitated and then shook his head. “It’s fine. You can go.”

  “Clark, please, I’d like to help if I can. If it wasn’t for you, I probably wouldn’t even have this job.”

  “What about your dance class?”

  “Oh. I decided to postpone it.”

  “Because you needed a partner?”

  “No, not really. It just didn’t turn out the way I wanted it to.”

  He ran his fingers through his hair. “I’ll make a deal with you. If you can stay late and help me out here, I’d be willing to take those classes with you.”

  As far as Carol was concerned, that was the deal of the century. “You’re on!”

  “You’re sure you don’t have a date?”

  She shook her head. She was reluctant to admit that she still had faith that in time Eddie would come to his senses. She didn’t want Clark to remind her that such thinking was dangerous. She knew it was. Yet, hard as she tried, she couldn’t make herself believe it was really over with Eddie.

  She’d dated him for almost four years. She knew him better than anyone—faults, foibles and flaws. They’d been a team, a couple, two of the most popular personalities on campus. Their love had been a storybook romance. The head cheerleader and the football hero. Their looks had complemented each other, too. She was tall and slim, with rich chestnut-colored hair and deep blue eyes. Eddie was blond and built and gorgeous. A hunk.

  Clark was nothing like Eddie. He was more the kind of hero you would find in a spy thriller. At first glance his features were completely nondescript. Not one characteristic about him stood out, and he blended into the crowd.

  But once she’d really paid attention to his appearance, she’d realized how attractive his eyes were. They were a soft brown, a shade darker than his hair. He was an inch or so taller than she was, and while she wouldn’t describe him as muscular, he looked as if he kept physically fit. Perhaps he jogged or enjoyed hiking.

  “So you’ve decided against dating anyone at the moment?” he asked.

  “For now,” she said. “It’s too soon after Eddie.” That was true. She missed her former fiancé too much to think about dating anyone else. “Anyway, I’d like to stay and help,” she offered. “And really, you don’t need to volunteer for the dance classes unless you really want to take them.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive. I don’t have any plans other than to veg out in front of the television.” That was what she did most nights. She slept poorly, awoke at odd hours. In the long frustrating weeks since graduation she’d become personally acquainted with every late-night show on TV.

  “I guess I should warn you,” Clark said. “I’ve had an irrepressible urge to take up ballroom dancing.” His face relaxed into a rare smile. The transformation in his looks was amazing. His eyes changed to a warm shade of amber, and a dimple appeared in each cheek. She was mesmerized. It demanded every ounce of control she possessed not to ask him to smile once more just so she could see those dimples again.

  Clark needed her to transcribe his notes and then format them for his presentation. It amazed her that someone so familiar with computers didn’t like to use one himself. He’d even asked her to print out his e-mails for him.

  It t
ook her a couple of hours, and when she’d finished, her stomach was growling. It had been a long time since lunch, and she was starved. Planting her hand on her stomach, she waited for the growling to subside.

  “Do you like Chinese food?” Clark asked unexpectedly.

  Carol looked over at him. “Chinese? Adore it. Why?”

  “I’m ordering dinner. You interested?”

  She nodded, returning her gaze to his meticulous notes. “Sure.”

  “Any preferences?”

  “Hot, spicy and lots of it,” she answered.

  A moment later she heard him reach for the phone behind her. His conversation was followed by a call to alert security that their dinner would be delivered in half an hour.

  By the time the food arrived, she had completed formatting the presentation. He proofread the printout while she opened up the numerous white cardboard boxes and dug through the paper bag for napkins and eating utensils. The smell of chili peppers, ginger and vegetables made her mouth water. Sitting on the edge of the desk, she plucked a fat shrimp from a box and brought it, dripping hot chili sauce, to her mouth. Some of the juice rolled down her chin, and she only saved it from staining her blouse in the nick of time. As she set the napkin aside, she noted that Clark’s gaze had left the typed presentation and he was studying her.

  She froze. “Did I do something wrong?” Perhaps he’d ordered the shrimp for himself and hadn’t intended on sharing. Feeling guilty, she lowered the box back to the desk top.

  “No, no, you’re fine.”

  Nevertheless, she waited until he’d finished reading before she ate any more. Luckily it didn’t take him long. He opted to sit in her chair, leaning it back as far as it would go and propping his feet on the corner of the desk. Both of them worked the chopsticks, too hungry to carry on a conversation.

  Once the edge was off her hunger, she glanced at him. “If Mrs. Derby could see us now…” Although Carol had never met the woman, it hadn’t taken her long to know that Clark’s secretary was a neatness junkie, one who would never risk tainting her workplace with soy-sauce stains.

  Clark chuckled.

  The chopsticks poised in front of her mouth, she said, “Do that again.” At his puzzled look, she said, “I want you to laugh again.” She waved him on with her chopsticks.

  He frowned, but even that wasn’t able to destroy the effect the short burst of laughter had had on him. His eyes had warmed, and he appeared more approachable, more human.

  Four days earlier she had thought of him as nondescript. While she admired his genius, she’d viewed him as dull. But having dinner together, sharing Mongolian beef, Szechuan shrimp and Chinese noodles, had been the final step in altering her opinion. While he wasn’t the type to call attention to himself, and in fact he avoided it, that didn’t mean he was boring. Like her peers at Queen Anne University, she’d been blind to the warm generous man behind the brains.

  “Carol?”

  She lowered her gaze when she realized she was staring. “Your face changes when you smile,” she said.

  “It does?”

  “Yeah.” How unnerving that Clark should have this effect on her! “Are you anxious about the presentation on Monday?” she asked as a means of changing the subject. The transition wasn’t smooth, but he was kind enough not to mention it.

  “Nervous? No, I can’t say that I am.”

  Again he surprised her. She would have been a wreck.

  “I know this program. Door Handle is my baby. All I have to do is let it do the talking for me. If I had any doubts about its performance, any qualms about its effectiveness, I’d be worried. But I have absolute faith in her.”

  “Her?”

  “I think of Door Handle as female. At first she was temperamental and unreasonable, but after a while we adjusted to each other, and now we get along great.”

  “You think women are temperamental and unreasonable?” she asked, planting one hand on her hip and pretending to be offended.

  “Not always,” he said, grinning, “but on occasion.” He went on to explain a number of bugs he’d fixed as he’d worked on the program, and as he spoke, he became more animated, more excited. Clark excited? This was a side of him she’d never seen. Much of what he said, she’d read as she’d transcribed his presentation. The words had seemed routine on the page, but when he spoke them, she could actually feel his energy and enthusiasm.

  She couldn’t help being impressed. Clark was nothing like Eddie, who was fond of boasting about his athletic skills, bragging about his accomplishments. Clark mentioned his own talents only in passing. It was the program he was promoting, not himself.

  Their conversation evolved slowly between bites of food, and she found herself laughing again and again at his dry wit. When she was certain she would burst if she ate a single morsel more, she set her chopsticks aside and gave a satisfied sigh. “Thank you for dinner. I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed myself so much.”

  “I’m the one who’s grateful. I appreciate your staying late,” he said as he dumped the empty containers into the wastebasket.

  “I was happy to do it.” Now was the time to apologize. It was either take advantage of the opportunity now or regret it later. “There’s something you should know,” she said, capturing his attention. “On Monday I let you think that I’d consider myself safe with you at the dance classes because I saw you as a geek. But I didn’t—don’t—see you that way, Clark. I see you as a gentleman—that’s why I’d feel safe. I think you’re…wonderful.”

  He appeared confused, as if he’d put the matter out of his mind. “Uh…don’t worry about it.”

  “I can’t help it. Sometimes I do incredibly stupid things.”

  For reasons she was hard-pressed to explain, she had the sudden urge to cry. And then she understood.

  Just before graduation she’d been sitting on top of the world, and then, in a single afternoon, everything she’d considered important had come crashing down on her shoulders. This was the first time in weeks that she felt like her old self. It was thanks to Clark, and she was incredibly grateful to have him for a friend.

  She hid the attack of emotions behind busywork. Silently she removed any telltale evidence of their “crime” by wiping off the desk. As she reached for her purse, she glanced at her watch, uncertain of the bus schedule this late in the evening. While it was close to eight o’clock, the sun had yet to set.

  She lingered a moment, realizing she’d enjoyed their time so thoroughly that she was reluctant to leave. “Thanks again.” She eased her way toward the door.

  Clark nodded. “I’ve got a few things to finish up here, otherwise I’d walk you to your car.”

  She didn’t correct him. “Good night, Clark.”

  “Good night, Carol.”

  She left, and the sound of her footsteps echoed in the corridor. Security let her out of the building. As luck would have it, she’d just missed the bus and was doomed to wait an hour for the next. Dusk was settling over the Puget Sound area, and a breeze rustled through the trees, the wind weaving through the thick green branches, whispering secrets.

  Twenty minutes later a red Mustang passed the bus stop, then stopped abruptly, tires squealing. Slowly the car backed up toward her. The passenger window lowered, and she recognized Clark.

  “You’re taking the bus?” he asked, frowning. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I was supposed to?”

  “No…yes. Hop in and I’ll give you a ride home.” He leaned across the passenger seat, unlatched the door and pushed it open.

  “Thanks,” she answered, smiling to herself. After climbing in and giving him her address, she snapped the seat belt into place. When he merged with the freeway traffic, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes, lulled by the country music coming from the CD player. This man was full of surprises. She would have assumed he was more of a classical-music fan. Russian or Italian composers whose names all begin with P. Prokofiev or Puccini. Men who’d suffered
for their art. Her mental picture of him didn’t include Carrie or Keith.

  In her relaxed state, with her eyes closed, she grew brave. “I want to ask you something, all right?”

  “Ask away.”

  “I want to know about the comment you made last week about not seeing Eddie and me as a couple.”

  “It’s true. I never did,” he returned promptly.

  “Why not?” She’d always viewed them as perfect together. But she respected Clark and was eager to hear his reasoning.

  This time her question gave him pause. “Eddie was never right for you. He doesn’t deserve you.”

  While that might be true, she loved Eddie. Even now, she found it hard to be angry with him. It wasn’t really Eddie who’d broken the engagement but his agent. Mark was the one who’d talked Eddie into canceling the wedding, and once Eddie came to his senses, he would be back.

  “You’re wrong, you know,” she felt compelled to say, irritated with herself now for asking. Perhaps she’d been looking to have Clark reassure her that eventually her world would right itself. That it was only a matter of time before Eddie recognized what he’d lost and wanted her back. She felt lonely and alone, and yes, she missed him. Missed the life they’d dreamed about and planned together. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

  Clark’s gaze briefly left the road as he glanced at her. “You asked. If you aren’t going to like the answer, then don’t ask the question.”

  “Have you always been like this?” she demanded, gesturing with her hands, which refused to keep still. “Such an expert on everyone else’s business?”

  Her anger didn’t rile him—he didn’t even bother to respond—but she was in rare form and wasn’t about to end the conversation. Not until she’d gotten him to admit he was wrong. She needed him to admit it.

  “If you know me so well, then who do you think I should marry?” she demanded. There hadn’t been a single man on the entire campus she could love more than Eddie. The fact she recognized and accepted Eddie’s flaws assured her of that.