by Nancy Bush
Jealous? she asked herself, annoyed. Afraid Pamela or someone else might take your place in Nick’s affection if you turn him down?
If you turn him down?
Rory couldn’t stand her own thoughts. She had no intention of getting involved with Nick. He was just restless and looking for someone new. Soon he’d stop this ridiculous chasing and get back to being her friend.
Pamela was looking at her expectantly. “I’ll mention it to Nick,” she finally said.
“Thanks, Rory. You are the greatest!”
Anytime, she thought dryly as Pamela practically did a cartwheel out the door.
Sipping her tea, she told herself it was just as well. Let Pamela run interference between her and Nick. She walked to the window, glanced at the weather and sniffed. Go to the San Juans with him? For an entire weekend? She’d have to be out of her head.
“There you are,” his voice suddenly said and Rory jumped, nearly spilling her tea. She turned to see him walking into her office. “So how’d the meeting with Marsden go?”
Recovering herself, she said, “You walked him out. Didn’t he tell you?”
“He wasn’t all that specific about the meeting. But from the satisfied look on your face, it appears you’re not as irritated with either him or me anymore. Went well, huh?”
“Did you tell him to agree with me?” Rory demanded suspiciously, her good mood evaporating. “Because if you did, so help me I’ll—”
“Marsden only listens to business advice if he thinks it’s worthwhile. It wouldn’t matter what you, or I, or even Almighty God, said if he didn’t agree.”
“You might have influenced him a little bit.”
“Have some faith in yourself. Your defense mechanisms are working twenty-four seven. I can barely get close enough to you to even look you in the eye. Marsden listened to you because your advice was sound. Period. And I, for one, am as happy as hell that he thinks you’re the person to handle his account. It’s one less problem.”
Rory wasn’t certain how to answer. Just what did he mean by all that? “You’re right,” she said stiffly. “I’m being too sensitive and ridiculous.”
“And it just kills you to admit it, doesn’t it?” He grinned.
“As a matter of fact, yes.”
He draped an arm familiarly over her shoulders, and Rory had to force herself not to turn into a stone statue. She could smell his aftershave and feel the curve of his hip. “The San Juans are out?”
She nodded.
“No chance you’ll change your mind?”
She shook her head.
“I can be good,” he said, and the threat of laughter in his voice didn’t escape her.
“I believe it,” Rory said dryly, moving out of his hold. “But actually, I already have plans. Michelle and I are taking her twins out Saturday afternoon.” A small lie, but one she intended to make good on. “I can’t back out now.”
Nick slid her a look. “In that case, how about dinner Saturday night?”
“I might be busy.”
“Might?”
“I get that you’re giving me the full court press, but don’t you have something better to do? I mean, really? I want to stay friends, and you’re just …pushing things.”
“I want to be with you. I want your company. What’s wrong with that?”
Rory stared into his gray eyes. A woman could drown in eyes like his. “I’m not sure. Give me time to figure it out.”
“Leave Saturday night open. Please.”
She took another sip of her now cold tea. Space. She needed more space, because he was driving her crazy and totally destroying her common sense. “Pamela wants to be your assistant. She asked me to ask you. Adriana can fill in for Don. Oh, God, Don! He wanted to talk to me.” She made a move for the door, but Nick grabbed her arm.
“Don can wait.”
“Is it all right if Pamela’s your assistant?”
“Yes, fine.” For once Nick looked as if he were at the end of his rope. “What are you running from?”
“I’m not running. I’m just… trying to keep things sane.”
“Are you scared of all men? Or is it just me?”
Rory opened her mouth, prepared to argue, but then she stopped short. “It’s just you.”
“Like hell it is,” he muttered. To Rory’s shock, his hands cupped her face. She glanced anxiously toward the door. If he kissed her, and Pamela saw…
“Nick,” she protested.
“You’re driving me crazy.”
“You’re driving me crazy,” she hissed back. “Stop it.”
“Give me Saturday night.”
“Okay, fine. Yes. Saturday night.”
A look of triumph swept over his face.
“Oh, don’t do that,” she said. “I’m not going to have an affair with you. Period. I’m not about to commit emotional suicide by trusting someone like you.”
“I think you’ve got me all wrong,” he said seriously.
Rory wrenched herself free and walked out of the room, heedless of the tea that sloshed over her hand and onto the carpet. She didn’t feel anything but fear.
DEAR DIARY — NANCY BUSH
Chapter Nine
I made a mistake. I can’t work for Nick. The Marsden account is fast becoming a major problem, and Don is out for blood. It’s just a matter of time before he confronts Nick and then the you-know-what will really hit the fan. And that’s not the worst of it. Nick absolutely will not listen to me about the insanity of taking our relationship a step further. He insists we have dinner together tonight. I suppose I should be glad he’s given up on the idea of running away to the San Juans together, but I don’t trust what’s on his mind… .
Rory shaded her eyes with one hand, watching Max and Lisa riding around and around in a circle atop the Shetland ponies in the grocery store parking lot. The pungent scent of horse dung mixed with the equally powerful and more pleasant smells of cotton candy and popcorn. A hot-looking clown held a large bunch of silvery helium balloons in one hand. Somewhere to Rory’s left a child cried and screamed incessantly. Coming down from too much fun, she decided. She could relate. She felt miserable, tense and cranky herself.
Michelle fussed in her purse. “Where’s my lip gloss?” she demanded. She’d been irritable all afternoon. It was catching.
“You think someone here is going to notice your lips?”
Michelle snorted at Rory, her expression hidden behind a pair of expensive sunglasses. A tube of lip gloss mysteriously appeared in her hand. Carefully, Michelle laid a thick sheen of frosted pink on her mouth.
Her younger sister had always been more fastidious about her looks than Rory had. It was a fact of life, one that Rory had long since ceased to wonder about. Michelle was simply made that way, and it was okay. Rory wore makeup, but if she forgot her lipstick, or to mascara her lashes, or apply blush to her cheeks, it didn’t bother her much. She was what she was. Michelle had the beauty and Rory had the brains.
Or so she’d like to believe up until Nick had reappeared in her life a few weeks ago. Where are your brains now, huh? she asked herself. If she was so smart she wouldn’t be suffering such tingles of excitement every time she thought about tonight.
Rory groaned aloud, hating herself.
“What’s wrong?” Michelle asked.
“Nothing.”
“Oh, come on. You’ve been like a bear with a sore head all day.”
“You haven’t exactly been Miss Mary Sunshine yourself.”
Michelle wrinkled her nose in response.
Rory squinted across the parking lot at Michelle’s twins, as alike as night and day. Max was auburn like Michelle; Lisa had straight brown hair like her father. Both of them held the reins so tightly you’d think they expected the Shetlands to suddenly break free and race toward the open prairie. Fat chance.
“I hope they’re having a good time,” Michelle worried.
“The time of their lives.”
“That sound
ed suspiciously sarcastic.”
“No, I’m serious. If they’re not having a great time, they’re scared to death. It amounts to the same thing, I think.”
The pony ride ended and Max and Lisa were pried from their mounts. Max wanted to get right back on.
“Go again! Go again! Go again! Horsey!” he cried.
“Not now, honey,” said Michelle, clasping his chubby hand. But not before he managed to knock Michelle’s sunglasses off her nose. They went flying toward the blacktop, bouncing hard, one bow breaking off with a snap.
The ride home was accomplished with Max intermittently screaming for the horses and kicking at Lisa. Rory sighed with relief as Michelle pulled into her driveway.
The Courtenay home was a sprawling ranch with a triple-car garage and a back deck and yard to die for. Rory helped unsnap the twins from their car seats and led them into the house.
“Forget what they tell you about the terrible twos,” Michelle advised an hour later when she’d finally put the kids down for their nap. “It’s the threes that are killers,” Michelle added, kicking off her shoes and joining Rory at the kitchen table.
“Mmm.” Rory pushed one of the glasses of iced-tea she’d poured while Michelle made her last trip to the kids’ bedroom toward her sister. She knew better than to offer any kind of comment. She didn’t have children, so her advice would be scorned.
“Thanks. And thanks for helping with the kids. They wear me out totally.”
Michelle pulled her sunglasses from her purse and gazed sadly at the broken bow. “I can’t show these to James. He didn’t want me to spend the money for them in the first place. I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Since when does James not buy you everything you want?” Rory asked lightly.
“Oh, I don’t know. Since…” She didn’t finish. Instead she touched her fingertips to her lips as if to prevent words from spilling out that she might regret.
The hair on Rory’s skin lifted. “Michelle?”
“It’s just tough right now with the twins so demanding. It seems like we’re both looking for excuses to escape. James’s golfing with a friend today. The weather’s perfect for it.”
“Are you going to cry?” Rory asked softly.
“Uh-uh.” She shook her head slowly from side to side, her chin stiffening with resolve. “I’m going to toss out this iced-tea and have a glass of wine. How about you?” She got up from the table, poured her drink in the sink and pulled out a bottle of Pinot Gris from the refrigerator.
Rory shrugged. “Sure, why not?” She sensed Michelle really needed to relax. She was wound as tight as a spring. “Tell me what’s really going on with you and James,” she urged quietly once the glass was placed in front of her.
“Like I said, we’re not on the verge of divorce. It’s nothing really serious.” Taking a deep breath, she smoothed back her hair, then shook her head. “We’re just not communicating well these days. It’s kids. Work. Everything, but it’s okay. Really. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Tell me about Nick.”
Rory rolled her eyes. “Michelle, you’re a broken record.”
“You should’ve gone to the San Juans with him,” she declared for the third time since noon.
And for the third time, she said, “I don’t want to get involved with Nick.”
“It’s probably perfectly innocent.”
“Oh, yeah, sure.” Rory choked on a laugh. “Nick’s been very clear about his intentions.”
“And why shouldn’t he be?” she asked, switching tactics. “I mean, look at you. I’m surprised it took him this long to wake up.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You got beautiful,” said Michelle with a bittersweet smile. “Mom always said you would, but I never wanted to believe it. I was always jealous.”
“I think I’m gonna gag here.”
“It’s true. You’re the only one who doesn’t seem to notice. You can bet Nick notices, though.” Michelle swallowed deeply from her glass, then swirled the wine reflectively. “You’re crazy not to take a chance with him. I would.”
“Why don’t you take my place at dinner tonight, then.”
Michelle’s face broke into the first real grin of the day. “You are having dinner with him tonight, then? You haven’t chickened out?”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Rory shot back, exasperated. “Stop pushing. You’re as bad as Nick.”
“I just think you ought to be more daring, Rory. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“I could lose Nick’s friendship forever.”
“Maybe it’s worth losing. Look what you could gain.”
Rory shook her head and groaned, at her wit’s end when it came to her younger sister.
“You’re thinking about it though, aren’t you?” Michelle said, a little breathlessly.
“Of course I’m thinking about it. I’m not blind. Nick’s… damn near perfect. Except he’s unattainable, at least for what I want.”
“What’s that?”
“Something more than just what he can give.”
“You don’t even know what he can give.”
“Michelle, I’ve been burned before and I’m not about to get burned again.”
“Why not?”
“Why not?” Rory repeated.
“Yeah, why not get burned again? At least it’s living. Feeling. At least your eyes are open.”
Rory gazed at her in disbelief. This was where her philosophies and Michelle’s veered in opposite directions. “It wasn’t so great the first time. I don’t really feel like going through that again. And now Nick and I are working together. This is not the time to do something stupid.”
“If I could do something stupid, I would,” Michelle whispered in a voice suddenly shaking with pent-up emotion.
They were in far deeper waters than Rory had realized. “What in the world’s going on with you, Michelle? Tell me.”
She shook her head, working to bring herself under control. “I just feel… bad sometimes. I look at you and I think what it would be like to be so happy and carefree.”
Rory sputtered. That was the last word she’d ascribe to her situation.
“You’ve got a man who is only interested in you.”
“Now there’s a leap of the imagination. You obviously don’t know Nick very well,” Rory objected dryly.
“I do know Nick. As a matter of fact, I talked to him this week.”
“You did?” Rory stared at her.
“I called the office to talk to you. You weren’t there, so I asked to talk to him.”
Rory was absolutely stunned. “So, what did you talk about?”
A smile spread across her lips. “You, actually. I promised you’d be there for dinner tonight.”
Rory pushed back her chair. “Michelle, stay out of this. I’m warning you—”
“Oh, sit down, Rory. It’s you who makes all the noise about how unfaithful and irresponsible he is. Come on. Give him a chance. It’s worth it.”
“Do you hear yourself?” demanded Rory. “You’re telling me I should have an affair with my best friend.” She wanted to clap her hands over her ears and run out of the room. As much as she hated to admit it, the gist of Michelle’s argument was exactly what she wanted to believe.
“Yes, that’s what I’m telling you. You’re wasting the best part of your life trying to play it safe.”
Rory replied automatically, “Better safe than sorry.”
“Better sorry than emotionally dead,” she retorted. “You be there for dinner tonight, Rory. Otherwise you’ll never forgive yourself.”
It was seven thirty by the time Rory arrived back at her apartment. Her mind was on stall. Nick had asked her to be at his place by eight. She would never make it in time. She shouldn’t go anyway. Oh, hell. She wanted to be with him. She did.
Hurrying inside the door, Rory barely took time to rip off her clothes before dashing into the shower. She scrubbed hard an
d fast, working the soap into a lather. She felt frustrated, and it wasn’t all because of Nick. Michelle’s husband, James, had arrived home in a foul mood. He and Michelle had barely spoken six words while Rory had been there, and she felt a prickling sense of déjà vu. Her own parents had acted much the same way during the worst moments of their marriage. It made her scared for Michelle. Scared for Michelle’s children. Something was very wrong.
She toweled dry her hair, then blasted it with a blow dryer. After tossing on her chenille robe, she padded out to the kitchen. Seven-fifty. She had to text Nick and tell him she’d be late.
She picked up her cell phone to see she had already had a missed call and two texts from him:
I’m outside where are u?
Assume you’re in the shower. Be back at 8. Don’t take too long getting pretty ;)
“Oh, God,” Rory muttered, but she recognized a spark of desire starting to smolder. Damn it all. What was she going to do?
With a growl of self-disgust she raced to the bedroom, brushing her still damp hair. In the middle of applying some light makeup she noticed her hand was shaking. Swearing beneath her breath, she laid her palms flat on her dresser. Calm down. Count to ten. Don’t be such an idiot.
But glancing at her reflection she saw the light dancing in her eyes, turning ordinary blue into something mysterious and inviting. Her cheeks were tinted a faint pink. Her mouth looked full and tremulous. Rory pressed her lips together, appalled. Oh, my God. I’m crazy. I’m completely out of my mind.
The doorbell chimed and she gasped.
