Dear Diary

by Nancy Bush

  “He called me yesterday,” she said bitterly. “To make certain I hadn’t committed suicide.”

  “I’ll be right there, Michelle.”

  She replaced the receiver and stood for a moment beside the bed, unable to hold Nick’s questioning gaze. She felt such fury towards James Courtenay she was afraid it would spill out in a poisonous venom, burning Nick in its wake. The bastard. The selfish, adulterating bastard!

  “What is it?” Nick asked soberly.

  “Michelle’s husband has left her for another woman.” Her voice was harsh and accusatory. “If he were here I’d strangle him with my bare hands.”

  She thought about how Michelle had called Nick and set him up with the caterer. Hurt filled her lungs. She wanted to bury her face against Nick’s chest and flail her fists against him at the same time. It wasn’t fair. It was never fair.

  “Are you going to be all right?” Nick asked, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

  “Oh, I’ll be fine,” she ground out. “It’s Michelle who’s in trouble.”

  “You’re as white as a sheet.”

  “Don’t come near me,” she warned, backing up. Flushing, she added lamely, “I’m sorry. This isn’t about you. I’ve got too much to do. I’m going to be in the office late today. I’m… sorry.”

  “It’s all right,” he said, his voice trailing after her, full of bafflement as Rory raced to the bathroom.

  She closed the door behind her, leaning against the panels, fighting back angry sobs of fury and misery. James Courtenay should be drawn and quartered. Her fists clenched. He had a wife and a family. How could he? How could he?

  She caught her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Her eyes were wide and sunken. Nick was right. She was deathly pale.

  If nightmares could come true… .

  Rory took a shower, scrubbing herself so thoroughly her skin hurt when she was finished. She tugged on her robe once more and returned to the bedroom.

  Nick was leaning against her dresser, shirtless but in his jeans. His ankles were crossed, but he was far from relaxed. “Is there a chance that Michelle could be mistaken?”

  “Mistaken?” Rory raged.

  “I’m just asking.”

  “He told her he was in love with someone else. He wants out of the marriage.”

  “Ahhh…”

  Problem sauntered into the bedroom and jumped onto Rory’s dresser. Nick absentmindedly petted him, his gaze focused on the woman in front of him, unsure how to deal with her.

  “The man has two children,” Rory added in disbelief. “He’s just dumping them all.”

  “It sounds pretty damning all right, but maybe there’s more to it than you know,” he responded, feeling his way. Rory’s reaction was so swift, so overblown, he could tell something else was at work.

  Rory viciously yanked her clothes from her closet. “Something more to it. That sounds like an excuse.”

  “No, I—”

  “When a man cheats on his wife that’s it,” Rory cut him off. “And he’s a father cheating on his children, as well! So, don’t try to pass the blame. It doesn’t work that way.”

  He made the mistake of crossing the room and laying his hands on her shoulders. Rory froze, clenching her teeth together. “You’re probably right, but—”

  “Probably?” She shrugged his hands away, glaring at him with misdirected fury.

  “You’ve got to be calm for Michelle. You know that, Rory,” he added tersely.

  “Women always get taken. And it’s women who help them pick up the pieces. I’m sick of it. Just sick of it.”

  “Rory.” Nick was shaken. More than anything he wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her, but she wasn’t going to let him.

  “I’ve got to go,” she said, blindly pulling her clothes off the hanger, trying to get dressed. “Oh, God. Marsden’s coming in today. Could you—”

  “I’ll take care of everything,” he said tautly.

  Rory finished dressing. She yanked her hair into a hairband, searching distractedly for her purse.

  “Let me drive you to Michelle’s.”

  “No, Nick. I want to be left alone.”

  “Let me help.”

  “You can’t.” Her smile was taut with misery. “You can’t. Goodbye, Nick.”

  A cold foreboding filled his chest. She was walking away from him. She’d found her excuse to leave and she was rejecting him. Again.

  There had never been a longer day in Nick’s life. Minutes were hours. He was distracted and uneasy, his mind on Rory. He’d found something this weekend, something he wanted badly. Emotions he’d thought dead or nonexistent were unfurling inside him, awakening after a long, cold hibernation. He wasn’t going to let her slip away again. He’d done that once before.

  The tip of one long, gnarled finger tapped against his shoulder. “Something on your mind, son?” John Marsden asked.

  Nick dragged his attention back to the man seated on the conference room couch. “A few things, actually. Where were we?”

  “You were about to tell me how you’re getting on with your prettiest employee.”

  Nick laughed. “I was not.”

  “Where is she today?”

  “She had some personal business to take care of.”

  Nodding thoughtfully, Marsden said, “Well, I want to make a couple of changes, and I want to get the ball rolling today.” He gave Nick a shrewd look. “Can you bring yourself down to earth long enough to help me out?”

  A deep flush crept up Nick’s neck. It wasn’t like him to be so self-involved that he neglected his work. “Just tell me what you want, and I’ll try to talk you out of it,” he said with forced cheerfulness. Marsden chuckled, drew his chair closer to the desk, and sat back, pulling his hands up behind his head.

  An hour and a half later they were finished. Nick glanced at the clock‌—‌three-thirty p.m. He wished Rory would call.

  “I guess that’s it,” Marsden said, climbing from the depths of the chair. “I’ll see you Saturday morning then, bright and early.”

  “Saturday?”

  “The boat, Nick. You said you’d come.”

  Nick had completely forgotten his promise. “I’ll be there,” he told his friend as they walked to the door. He realized ruefully that he’d been planning to spirit Rory away to the San Juans this weekend, as he’d wanted to last weekend. That trip would have to be postponed again.

  “Bring Ms. Camden, too, if you like,” Marsden added with a straight face.

  The old reprobate. Nick’s lips twisted into a grin.

  “Have you been thinking about what I told you?” he asked as he walked toward the door.

  Nick crossed the room in three swift strides, twisting open the knob. He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “About marriage?”

  “And children.” A momentary shadow passed over his craggy features. “Don’t let the time slip away from you. My son’s gone, but I have memories.” He patted Nick’s arm, as if embarrassed he brought up the subject. “And I’ve still got Mary.”

  Moved, Nick asked, “Is your wife going on the boat with us?”

  “She named the damn thing. She’d better!”

  As he stepped through the doorway, chuckling, Nick saw Don Tisdale marching down the hall in their direction, his face red and stiff with fury. He shot a glance at Marsden, straightened comically as if at attention, uttered a greeting, then swept on toward Nick.

  “Could I speak to you a moment?” he demanded tensely.

  Out of the corner of his eye Nick saw Marsden look back and shake his head in commiseration. Don was too intense and arrogant for the man. Marsden wanted someone smart, efficient, with a sense of timing, but also with a sense of humor. Rory.

  “Something the matter?” Nick asked, closing his door.

  “Rory’s not in today. She was supposed to have a meeting with Marsden.”

  Nick was rankled. Rory’s business was not Don’s concern. “I know. I took care of him for h
er.”

  Don stopped short, his mouth a pugnacious line of anger. “You gave her the Marsden account because you’re friends. Now she can’t even follow through. I think you owe me an explanation.”

  The guy certainly didn’t lack courage. A false courage, to be sure but courage nonetheless. Nick decided to be just as blunt. “John Marsden didn’t like the way you handled his account. Whether he’s right or wrong doesn’t matter. He doesn’t want you as his investment advisor. He quit this company once because he felt you bungled his investments. I gave him to Rory because she’s more qualified than you are, and she seems to have a better handle on how to deal with John’s personality.”

  Rage and shock flared in Don’s eyes. The color faded from his cheeks, leaving them gray and weathered looking. “You gave Rory the Marsden account because you’re sleeping with her.”

  There was a soft rap on his door. Nick was cold with fury. He didn’t bother heeding the knock. “Don,” he said succinctly. “Clean out your desk.”

  The door opened and Rory stood there, looking confused. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear anyone.”

  Don’s hands were shaking. He balled them into fists and marched to the door. Rory moved to one side, her brows furrowing at his demeanor.

  “He just fired me,” Don told her as he strode past her. “Looks like you’re the favorite once again. And we both know why, don’t we?” he called over his shoulder.

  Rory’s eyes were huge. She gazed questioningly at Nick.

  All Nick wanted to do was drag her into his arms. Wishing life weren’t so complicated, he drawled, “He accused me of giving you the Marsden account because we’re sleeping together.” The blood drained from her face, and Nick lost patience. “For God’s sake, Rory, I didn’t tell him about this weekend. That was just a mean guess on his part. He probably doesn’t even believe it. Give me a little credit, hmm?”

  She held up her hands. “You see why this can’t go on. Rumors have already cropped up about us. If the truth comes out, I don’t think I can take it.”

  “I bought this company because of you,” he said flatly, realizing as the words formed that it was the absolute truth. “Because I wanted to be with you, to work with you. Jacobson & Kern had a great reputation, but I never thought they’d sell to me. If you hadn’t worked here, I wouldn’t have even made an offer.”

  She strode jerkily across the room to stand by the window. Sunlight fell on her hair, giving it a sun-kissed look. “I can’t do it, Nick. I can’t work with you, and make love to you—” She stumbled over the words, as if they were nearly impossible to speak. “And be your friend, too. Something’s got to give.”

  “You’re looking for an excuse to end this relationship before it’s even begun.” Nick was outwardly calm, but inside he was seething with emotions too complicated to name. Primitive emotions. Like a man out of another century, he wanted to force her to his will. Show her he was right. John Marsden’s ideas on marriage and children sounded less and less farfetched, yet he sensed he was damned close to losing Rory.

  “I can’t do it all, Nick. I’m not made that way. I’ve been thinking today. Thinking a lot.” She threw him a swift, troubled look. Nick’s blood ran cold. Uh-oh, he thought. Here it comes. “Maybe we should take a deep breath and step back.”

  “I can’t.” He walked up behind her, wanting to kiss her neck, the soft hollow behind her ear. “I want you right now.”

  She shivered involuntarily. “The timing is not good for me. It’s not good.”

  “Look at me,” he urged, placing his hands on her shoulders and twisting around. She resisted, but he felt the tremor that ran through her narrow shoulders. She glanced up, looking so vulnerable and feminine that Nick had to forcibly restrain himself. “Can you really give up what we shared this weekend?”

  She drew a tortured breath, paused, then shook her head. “No.”

  Nick was filled with relief. “Well, then?”

  “Not yet, anyway. But later I will. I’ll have to.”

  Impatience made his voice harsh. “Why, damn it?”

  “I told you before, I can’t be involved with someone like you. I mean, I am, for now; I know that. But it’s only temporary.”

  “Why does it have to be temporary? What do you mean ‘someone like me’?” he demanded.

  “This won’t last between us. And if you’re honest with yourself, you’ll admit that I’m right.”

  “That’s bullshit. You’re just looking for excuses,” he declared, shocked by how much her words hurt.

  “I don’t want this,” she said. “I look at Michelle, and I know I don’t want this.” Her lips were firm.

  “You’re not Michelle, and I’m not James,” he threw back at her.

  “Right. We’re Rory and Nick. That’s the problem. It’s not going to work, so I’m ending in now.”

  “You’re ending it,” he snarled.

  His fingers gripped her shoulders so tightly they hurt. Rory was too upset to think straight. She just wanted him to leave her alone. “Yes. I’m ending it.”

  The intercom on his phone buzzed and Rory’s head jerked to it, welcoming the distraction.

  “Leave it, I’ll get it later,” Nick said annoyed at the interruption.

  But Rory had already hit the speaker button as an automatic response. Pamela’s fresh voice sounded as if it were from another world. “There’s a call for you, Mr. Shard. She says she’s a friend of yours from San Francisco. Katherine Forrester.”

  Rory’s eyes were lasers on him and Nick swore silently. He knew she would believe what she wanted, rather than what was the truth. “Tell her I’ll call her back.”

  “Okay.” Pamela hesitated a moment before clicking off.

  Silence followed. Rory’s posture stiffened as she hardened herself to what she knew was to come. Grinding his teeth together, Nick said, “Katherine’s a business associate.”

  “Like I’m a business associate?”

  “I knew you’d make the most of that.” He dropped his arms and strode away from her. Knowing he was damning himself, but too angry to dissemble, he stated flatly, “If you mean, did Katherine and I have a relationship, the answer is yes. Once. Years ago. Now it’s strictly business.”

  “Whoa…” For all her words, Rory hadn’t expected that. “I‌—‌I need a few extra days off,” she said in a faint voice. “James has moved out all his clothes. Michelle’s in pieces. The kids are wrecks.”

  “Take the whole damn week off. Whatever you want.” Nick’s tone was blistering. “Escape.”

  “I can’t talk to you about this,” she murmured, heading blindly for the door.

  “I know Michelle needs you, but you’ve welcomed the chance to get away from me, to avoid facing your feelings. So go. I won’t stop you.”

  All day, with Michelle’s crumbling marriage so potently evident, Rory had rehearsed what she would say to Nick. She’d known before she’d made love to him that their time was doomed; Michelle’s problems had simply put those thoughts into focus sooner rather than later. But hearing Nick tell her to leave wasn’t what she’d wanted after all. Protecting her heart wasn’t as easy as she’d thought. She ached inside.

  “I’ll be at Michelle’s if you need me. Pamela’s got her number.”

  “So do I,” Nick replied softly.

  “Did you… take care of Marsden?”

  “I think I’ve taken care of everything, Rory. Tell Michelle I’m sorry she’s having such a difficult time, and if she’s able to listen, tell her it does get better.”

  Does it? Rory regarded him uncertainly, but Nick had closed himself off from her. Quietly she left his office, her muffled footsteps sounding terribly lonely in the empty hallway.

  DEAR DIARY — NANCY BUSH

  Chapter Eleven

  I knew this would happen. I knew it. One weekend with Nick and poof! I lose all my brains. They just leaked right out of my head. A friend of mine once told me lust makes you stupid. Well, she was right. How can it be th
at Michelle’s utterly miserable over a man, and all I can think about is Nick? What kind of sister am I? She thinks I’m being wonderful, taking care of the kids, fixing meals, running interference for her and James when things get really rough. But it’s Nick I think about. Nick I want. I don’t trust myself anymore. If he crooked his little finger, I’d follow.

  Rory sat on the bench, exhausted, watching Max and Lisa have fun on the playground. Max could barely pull himself up onto a two-foot-tall wooden platform; Lisa couldn’t at all. This created a fight, and Rory had to step in.

  “That does it, kids,” Rory muttered. “We’ve got to go back.”

  It took all her energy to corral them into the car and buckle them into their car seats. Max impudently unbuckled himself, glaring at Rory.

  “Do it again, and you forfeit that ice cream cone I promised you,” Rory threatened, refastening it. Max’s pudgy hand moved to the buckle, and Rory met his gaze squarely, daring him to test her.

  He pulled his hand back and looked at the toes of his shoes.

  Rory smothered a smile. I would make a terrible mother, she thought as she climbed behind the wheel, then was struck down by how suddenly, achingly she wanted her own child. Nick’s child.

  Oh, God, I’m in trouble.

  The park was only two miles from Michelle’s house. Rory drove by rote, so miserable her arms seemed held down by weights. Pulling into Michelle’s driveway, Rory felt her low spirits sink even lower. For three days she’d hidden her own feelings and presented a cheery face to Michelle. She’d even refrained from murdering James whenever the worm showed his adulterous face. But it was wearing on her. She couldn’t take the indecision. Throughout her life Rory had met obstacles head-on and made choices. Why Michelle couldn’t make a choice now was beyond her. As far as Rory could see, divorce was the only option. How could you hang on to a man who didn’t want you?

  The twins had fallen asleep on the way back. One by one Rory carried them to their beds. The house was silent, only a faint breeze stirred up the sweet heavy scent of the bouquet of yellow roses on the dining table. Rory had bought the flowers, needing something fresh and beautiful to admire while she sorted through her own self-doubts and Michelle’s ragged emotions.