Evan needed a woman who would be an asset—socially and politically. As an electrician’s daughter, Mary Jo couldn’t possibly be that woman. End of discussion.
“Mary Jo?”
Her mother’s worried voice cut into her thoughts. She shook her head and smiled. “I’m sorry, Mom, what were you saying?”
“Your father asked you a question.”
“About you and Evan,” Norman elaborated. “I thought you two were pretty serious.”
“We were serious at one time,” she admitted, seeing no other way around it. “We were even engaged. But we…drifted apart. Those things happen, you know. Luckily we realized that before it was too late.”
“But he’s such a dear boy.”
“He’s a charmer, Mom,” Mary Jo said, making light of his appeal. “But he’s not the man for me. Besides, I’m dating Gary now.”
Her parents exchanged meaningful glances.
“You don’t like Gary?” Mary Jo prodded.
“Of course we like him,” Marianna said cautiously. “It’s just that…well, he’s very sweet, but frankly, Mary Jo, I just don’t see Gary as the man for you.”
Frankly, Mary Jo didn’t, either.
“It seems to me,” her father said slowly while he buttered a slice of bread, “that your young man’s more interested in your mother’s cooking than he is in you.”
So the family had noticed. Not that Gary’d made any secret of it. “Gary’s just a friend, Dad. You don’t need to worry—we aren’t really serious.”
“What about Evan?” Marianna studied Mary Jo carefully, wearing the concerned expression she always wore whenever she suspected one of her children was ill. An intense, narrowed expression—as if staring at Mary Jo long enough would reveal the problem.
“Oh, Evan’s a friend, too,” Mary Jo said airily, but she didn’t really believe it. She doubted they could ever be friends again.
LATE FRIDAY AFTERNOON, just before she began getting ready to leave for the weekend, Evan called Mary Jo into his office. He was busy writing, and she waited until he’d finished before she asked, “You wanted to see me?”
“Yes,” he said absently, reaching for a file folder.
“I’m afraid I’m going to need you tomorrow.”
“On Saturday?” She’d assumed the weekends were her own.
“I’m sure Mrs. Sterling mentioned I might occasionally need you to travel with me.”
“No, she didn’t,” Mary Jo said, holding her shoulders rigid. She could guess what was coming. Somehow he was going to keep her from seeing Gary Saturday night. A man who lunched with a different woman every day of the week wanted to cheat her out of one dinner date with a friend.
“As it happens, I’ll need you tomorrow afternoon and evening. I’m driving up to—”
“As it happens I already have plans for tomorrow evening,” she interrupted defiantly.
“Then I suggest you cancel,” he said impassively.
“According to the terms of our agreement, you’re to be at my disposal for the next two months. I need you this Saturday afternoon and evening.”
“Yes, but—”
“May I remind you, that you’re being well compensated for your time?”
It would take more than counting to ten to cool Mary Jo’s rising temper. She wasn’t fooled. Not for a second. Evan was doing this on purpose. He’d overheard her conversation with Gary.
“And if I refuse?” she asked, her outrage and defiance evident in every syllable.
Evan shrugged, as if it wasn’t his concern one way or the other. “Then I’ll have no choice but to fire you.”
The temptation to throw the job back in his face was so strong she had to close her eyes to control it. “You’re doing this intentionally, aren’t you?” she asked between gritted teeth. “I have a date with Gary Saturday night—you know I do—and you want to ruin it.”
Evan leaned forward in his black leather chair; he seemed to weigh his words carefully. “Despite what you might think, I’m not a vindictive man. But, Ms. Summerhill, it doesn’t really matter what you think.”
She bit down so hard, her teeth hurt. “You’re right, of course,” she said quietly. “It doesn’t matter what I think.” She whirled around and stalked out of his office.
The force of her anger was too great to let her sit still. For ten minutes, she paced the office floor, then slumped into her chair. Resting her elbows on the desk, she buried her face in her hands, feeling very close to tears. It wasn’t that this date with Gary was so important. It was that Evan would purposely ruin it for her.
“Mary Jo.”
She dropped her hands to find Evan standing in front of her desk. They stared at one another for a long, still moment, then Mary Jo looked away. She wanted to wipe out the past and find the man she’d once loved. But she knew that what he wanted was to hurt her, to pay her back for the pain she’d caused him.
“What time do you need me?” she asked in an expressionless voice. She refused to meet his gaze.
“Three-thirty. I’ll pick you up at your place.”
“I’ll be ready.”
In the ensuing silence, Damian walked casually into the room. He stopped when he noticed them, glancing from Evan to Mary Jo and back again.
“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”
“No.” Evan recovered first and was quick to reassure his older brother. “What can I do for you, Damian?”
Damian gestured with the file he carried. “I read over the Jenkins case like you asked and jotted down some notes. I thought you might want to go over them with me.”
The name Jenkins leapt out at Mary Jo. “Did you say Jenkins?” she asked excitedly.
“Why, yes. Evan gave me the file the other day and asked me for my opinion.”
“I did?” Evan sounded genuinely shocked.
Damian frowned. “Don’t you remember?”
“No,” Evan said, “Good Lord, Mary Jo and I’ve been searching for that file since yesterday.”
“All you had to do, little brother,” Damian chided,
“was ask me.”
The two men disappeared into Evan’s office while Mary Jo finished tidying up for the day. Damian left as she was gathering up her personal things.
“Evan would like to see you for a moment,” he said on his way out the door.
Setting her purse aside, she walked into Evan’s office. “You wanted to see me?” she asked coldly, standing just inside the doorway.
He stood at the window, staring down at the street far below, his hands clasped behind his back. His shoulders were slumped as if he’d grown weary. He turned to face her, his expression composed, even cool. “I apologize for the screw-up over the Jenkins file. I was entirely at fault. I did give it to Damian to read. I’m afraid it completely slipped my mind.”
His apology came as a surprise. “It’s no problem,” she murmured.
“About tomorrow,” he said next, his voice dropping slightly, “I won’t be needing you, after all. Enjoy your evening with lover boy.”
CHAPTER FIVE
“IS EVAN COMING?” Mary Jo’s oldest brother, Jack, asked as he passed the bowl of mashed potatoes to his wife, Cathy.
“Yeah,” Lonny piped in. “Where’s Evan?”
“I heard you were working for him now,” Cathy said, adding under her breath, “Lucky you.”
Mary Jo’s family was sitting around the big dining room table. Jack, Cathy and their three children, Lonny and his wife, Sandra, and their two kids, plus her parents—they’d all focused their attention on Mary Jo.
“Mr. Dryden doesn’t tell me his plans,” she said stiffly, uncomfortable with their questions.
“You call him ‘Mr. Dryden?”’ her father quizzed, frowning.
“I’m his employee,” Mary Jo replied.
“His father is a senator,” Marianna reminded her husband, as if this was important information he didn’t already know.
“I thought you said Evan’
s your friend.” Her father wasn’t going to give up, Mary Jo realized, until he had the answers he wanted.
“He is my friend,” she returned evenly, “but while I’m an employee of the law firm it’s important to maintain a certain decorum.” That was a good response, she thought a bit smugly. One her father couldn’t dispute.
“Did you invite him to Sunday dinner, dear?” her mother wanted to know.
“No.”
“Then that explains it,” Marianna said with a disappointed sigh. “Next week I’ll see to it myself. We owe him a big debt of thanks.”
Mary Jo resisted telling her mother that a man like Evan Dryden had more important things to do than plan his Sunday afternoons around her family’s dinner. He’d come once as a gesture of friendliness, but they shouldn’t expect him again. Her mother would learn that soon enough.
“How’s the case with Adison Investments going, M.J.?” Jack asked, stabbing his fork into a marinated vegetable. “Have you heard anything?”
“Not yet,” Mary Jo answered. “Evan had Mrs. Sterling type up a letter last week. I believe she mailed Mom and Dad a copy.”
“She did,” her father inserted.
“From my understanding, Evan, er, Mr. Dryden, gave Adison Investments two weeks to respond. If he hasn’t heard from them by then, he’ll prepare a lawsuit.”
“Does he expect them to answer?” Rich burst out, his dark eyes flashing with anger.
“Now, son, don’t get all riled up over this. Evan and Mary Jo are handling it now, and I have complete faith that justice will be served.”
The family returned their attention to their food, and when the conversation moved on to other subjects, Mary Jo was grateful. Then, out of the blue, when she least expected it, her mother asked, “How’d your dinner date go with Gary?”
Taken aback, she stopped chewing, the fork poised in front of her mouth. Why was her life of such interest all of a sudden?
“Fine,” she murmured when she’d swallowed. Once again the family’s attention was on her. “Why is everyone looking at me?” she demanded.
Lonny chuckled. “It might be that we’re wondering why you’d date someone like Gary Copeland when you could be going out with Evan Dryden.”
“I doubt very much that Evan dates his employees,” she said righteously. “It’s bad business practice.”
“I like Evan a whole lot,” five-year-old Sally piped in. “You do, too, don’t you, Aunt Mary Jo?”
“Hmm…yes,” she admitted, knowing she’d never get away with a lie, at least not with her own family. They knew her too well.
“Where’s Gary now?” her oldest brother asked as though he’d only just noticed that her date hadn’t joined them for dinner. “It seems to me he’s generally here. You’d think the guy had never tasted home cooking.”
Now was as good a time as any to explain, Mary Jo decided. “Gary and I decided not to see each other anymore, Jack,” she said, hoping to gloss over the details. “We’re both doing different things now, and we’ve…drifted apart.”
“Isn’t that what you were telling me about you and Evan Dryden?” her father asked thoughtfully.
Mary Jo had forgotten that. Indeed, it was exactly what she’d said.
“Seems to me,” her father added with a knowing parental look, “that you’ve been doing a lot of drifting apart from people lately.”
Her mother, bless her heart, cast Mary Jo’s father a frown. “If you ask me, it’s the other way around.” She nodded once as if to say the subject was now closed.
In some ways, Mary Jo was going to miss Gary. He was a friend and they’d parted on friendly terms. She hadn’t intended to end their relationship, but over dinner Gary had suggested they think seriously about their future together.
To put it mildly, she’d been shocked. She’d felt comfortable in their rather loose relationship. Now Gary was looking for something more. She wasn’t.
She realized he’d been disappointed, but he’d seemed to accept and appreciate her honesty.
“I like Evan better, anyway,” Sally said solemnly. She nodded once like her grandmother had just done, and the pink ribbons on her pigtails bobbed. “You’ll bring him to dinner now, won’t you?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart.”
“I do,” her mother said, smiling confidently. “A mother knows these things, and it seems to me that Evan Dryden is the perfect man for our Mary Jo.”
EVAN WAS IN THE OFFICE when Mary Jo arrived early Monday morning. She quickly prepared a pot of coffee and brought him a mug as soon as it was ready.
He was on the phone but glanced up when she entered his office and smiled his appreciation as he accepted the coffee. She returned to the outer office, amazed—and a little frightened—by how much one of his smiles could affect her.
Mary Jo’s greatest fear was that the longer they worked together the more difficult it would be for her to maintain her guard. Without being aware of it, she might reveal her true feelings for Evan.
The phone rang and she automatically reached for it, enjoying her role as Evan’s secretary. She and Evan had had their share of differences, but seemed to have resolved them. In the office, anyway.
“Mary Jo.” It was Jessica Dryden on the line.
Mary Jo stiffened, fearing Evan might hear her taking a personal call. She didn’t want anything to jeopardize their newly amicable relationship. The door to his office was open and he had a clear view of her from his desk.
“May I help you?” she asked in her best secretary voice.
Jessica hesitated at her cool, professional tone. “Hey, it’s me. Jessica.”
“I realize that.”
Jessica laughed lightly. “I get it. Evan must be listening.”
“That’s correct.” Mary Jo had trouble hiding a smile. One chance look in her direction, and he’d know this was no client she had on the line.
“Damian told me you’re working for Evan now. What happened?” Jessica’s voice lowered to a whisper as if she feared Evan would hear her, too.
Mary Jo carefully weighed her words. “I believe that case involved blackmail.”
“Blackmail?” Jessica repeated, and laughed outright. “This I’ve got to hear. Is he being a real slave driver?”
“No. Not exactly.”
“Can you escape one afternoon and meet me for lunch?”
“I might be able to arrange a luncheon appointment. What day would you suggest?”
“How about tomorrow at noon? There’s an Italian restaurant around the corner in the basement of the Wellman building. The food’s great and the people who own it are like family.”
“That sounds acceptable.”
Evan appeared in the doorway between his office and hers. He studied her closely. Mary Jo swallowed uncomfortably at the obvious censure in his expression.
“Uh, perhaps I could confirm the details with you later.”
Jessica laughed again. “Judging by your voice, Evan’s standing right there—and he’s figured out this isn’t a business call.”
“I believe you’re right,” she said stiffly.
Jessica seemed absolutely delighted. “I can’t wait to hear all about this. I’ll see you tomorrow, and Mary Jo…”
“Yes?” she urged, eager to get off the line.
“Have you thought any more about what I said? About working things out with Evan?”
“I…I’m thinking.”
“Good. That’s just great. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
Mary Jo replaced the receiver and darted a look in Evan’s direction. He averted his eyes and slammed the door shut. As if he was furious with her. Worse, as if she disgusted him.
Stunned, Mary Jo sat at her desk, fighting back a surge of outrage. He was being unfair. At the very least, he could have given her the opportunity to explain!
The morning, which had started out so well, with a smile and a sense of promise, had quickly disintegrated into outright hostility. Evan ignored her for the r
est of the morning, not speaking except about office matters. And even then, his voice was cold and impatient. The brusque, hurried instructions, the lack of eye contact—everything seemed to suggest he could barely tolerate the sight of her.
Without a word of farewell, he left at noon for his luncheon engagement and returned promptly at one-thirty, a scant few minutes before his first afternoon appointment. Mary Jo had begun to wonder if he planned to return at all, worrying about how she’d explain his absence if anyone called.
The temperature seemed to drop perceptibly the moment Evan walked in the door. She tensed, debating whether or not to confront him about his attitude.
Evan had changed, Mary Jo mused defeatedly. She couldn’t remember him ever being this temperamental. She felt as though she were walking on the proverbial eggshells, afraid of saying or doing something that would irritate him even more.
Her afternoon was miserable. By five o’clock she knew she couldn’t take much more of this silent treatment. She waited until the switchboard had been turned over to the answering service; that way there was no risk of being interrupted by a phone call.
The office was quiet—presumably almost everyone else had gone home—when she approached his door. She knocked, then immediately walked inside. He was working and seemed unaware of her presence. She stood there silently until he glanced up.
“Could I speak to you for a moment?” she asked, standing stiffly in front of his desk. She heard the small quaver in her voice and groaned inwardly. She’d wanted to sound strong and confident.
“Is there a problem?” Evan asked, raising his eyebrows as if surprised—and not pleasantly—by her request.
“I’m afraid my position here isn’t working out.”
“Oh?” Up went the eyebrows again. “And why isn’t it?”
It was much too difficult to explain how deeply his moods affected her. A mere smile and she was jubilant, a frown and she was cast into despair.
Ready for Marriage Page 5