by Cindi Myers
At times in the past few months, he’d questioned his decision to give up the freedom of a stress-free life with no responsibilities. When his days had been devoted to snowboarding and his nights to undemanding jobs, his biggest worry had been how to scrape together enough spare change to buy a pitcher of beer, or stashing his dirty clothes under the bed before he brought a woman home to spend the night. Now he saw everything differently. He had more responsibilities and worries, but the future held so many more possibilities. He worked hard, but he could see the reward that could be his. He’d made the right decision, and that knowledge felt good.
They were finishing dessert when Carl appeared at their table. “Bryan, may I speak with you a moment?” he asked.
Bryan glanced at Angela. “Go on,” she said. “Millie’s interested in community theater, so she and I have a lot to talk about.”
“All right.” He excused himself and followed Carl to an alcove near the door.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” Carl asked.
“Yes. Thank you again for inviting me.” In addition to the Aldersons, he’d met a man who ran a successful luxury fishing lodge on Blue Mesa Reservoir, and a woman from Gunnison who worked as a consultant for small innkeepers. His jacket pocket was stuffed full of business cards, and he had a list of contacts who could help him when the time came for him to start his own business.
“What is your relationship with Ms. Krizova?” Carl asked.
Bryan frowned at him. “She and I are dating.”
Carl pursed his lips. “Is it serious?”
“I think that’s a personal question.”
“Of course it is, and I apologize for being so nosy.” His smile was ingratiating. “Now, come over here a moment. There’s someone I want you to meet.”
Reluctantly, Bryan followed his boss to a table near the bar. “Stephanie?” Carl addressed an attractive blonde.
“Yes?” She looked up from her plate, and Bryan tried not to stare. She was stunning, with the kind of face and figure that wouldn’t have been out of place advertising beer or selling cars. Instead, she wore a tailored gray suit that managed to emphasize rather than hide her curves.
“Stephanie Reynolds, I’d like you to meet Bryan Perry,” Carl said. “Bryan works with me at the Elevation Hotel. Bryan, Stephanie works in the corporate marketing department. She’s a former Miss California, but she has brains as well as beauty. She has an MBA from Harvard and is one of our company’s rising stars.”
“Carl exaggerates.” She stood and offered Bryan her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Bryan. Carl has told me a lot about you. He thinks of you as his protégé.”
Bryan wasn’t sure he wanted to be Carl’s protégé. He liked to think he was responsible for his own success—or failure. “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Reynolds.”
“Please, call me Stephanie.” She indicated the chair beside her. “Sit and tell me more about the Elevation Hotel. I’m relatively new to the company and I’m trying to learn about all our properties. Carl said you’d be happy to fill me in.”
Bryan glanced at his boss, who was already backing away.
“Take my seat,” Carl said. “I have some other people I need to talk to.”
Bryan sat. He didn’t see how he could avoid doing so without appearing rude. “What would you like to know?” he asked. “I’ve been with the company less than a year myself.”
“Then you can give me an outsider’s perspective on the property.” She leaned forward, giving him a view of her deep cleavage, and lightly touched his hand. “Tell me what you feel the property is doing right in its approach to marketing, and where there’s room for improvement.”
“I don’t think I’m really qualified to say.”
“Of course you are.” She lowered her voice and looked at him through veiled lashes. “You strike me as a strong man and I’m eager to hear your opinions.”
Even recognizing her flirtation for what it was, Bryan found himself dazzled. Stephanie was well educated, sophisticated and inarguably gorgeous. She was probably a lot of fun to be with, too, as long as a man recognized she had an ulterior motive for wanting to be with him. Women like Stephanie, who could have any man they wanted, learned early on how to employ both their beauty and their brains to their benefit. He didn’t condemn them for it, but there was no point in being naive about it, either.
He wasn’t sure why she’d singled him out tonight. Maybe she simply liked his looks, or she bought into all the hype about him Carl had apparently been feeding her. In any case, he was going to disappoint her. He’d tell her what she wanted to know about the hotel, but he’d make it clear he wasn’t interested in anything more.
Chapter Thirteen
Angela wasn’t sure how long Bryan had been away from their table when she finally excused herself to visit the ladies’ room. Carl was obviously determined to monopolize his time, but since the purpose of this dinner was to make professional contacts, she had no objection. Later on, the two of them would compare notes about the evening and maybe share a laugh about Carl’s none-too-subtle maneuverings.
She returned to the dining room and searched the crowd for Bryan. At first, she didn’t see him, then a group that had been standing in front of her broke up and she spotted him at a table across the room. She started toward him, then froze in mid-stride. He was seated with a very attractive blonde, their heads close together. The woman had one hand on his arm, and was staring earnestly into his eyes. Bryan was so absorbed in the conversation, he didn’t appear to notice anything else going on around him.
“Ms. Krizova, can I help you with something?” Carl approached her, his usual ingratiating smile firmly in place.
“Who is that talking with Bryan?” she asked, struggling to sound casual.
Carl glanced at the couple and his smile broadened. “That’s Stephanie Reynolds, one of our very talented marketing people,” he said. “Harvard MBA and a former Miss California.” He laughed. “The two of them are so good-looking they put the rest of us to shame, I’m afraid.”
Angela stared at Bryan and Stephanie, seeing them as others must see them—two incredibly attractive young professionals, perfectly matched and clearly belonging together. Stephanie was exactly the kind of woman people expected to see with a man like Bryan. The kind of woman he was used to being with.
She thought of Troy and Kim. Others no doubt looked at them and thought they were the perfect couple. Who would think that about her and Bryan?
She stifled a groan. How many times was she going to have this argument with herself? The man said he loved her—wasn’t that enough?
Stephanie laughed at something Bryan said and he smiled back at her. Angela felt sick to her stomach, but not with jealousy. Jealousy she could have handled. Jealousy would have been almost normal in this situation. But no, the blackness that ate at her was closer to despair, the same feeling she’d had when she’d caught him staring at her naked body in the shower. Yes, she loved Bryan, and he said he loved her. But the first beautiful woman who’d come his way and he’d forgotten all about her. “Excuse me, Mr. Phelps,” she said. “It was nice talking with you, but I have to go.”
When she reached the table, Bryan looked up, clearly startled to see her. So he had forgotten all about her while he was talking to Miss California. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said. “I came to tell you I’m leaving. I’m suddenly not feeling well. I’ll call Trish to give me a ride home.”
Bryan was on his feet before she’d finished speaking. “What’s wrong? Do you need a doctor? I’ll take you home.”
“Just a virus or something,” she said, lying to avoid making a scene. “I’m sure I’ll be fine once I lie down.” She glanced at Stephanie, who was watching them with avid interest. “Don’t worry about me. I don’t want to take you away from the rest of the evening.”
“I’m done here anyway.” Bryan nodded to Stephanie, then took Angela’s arm and led her toward the door.
Carl intercepted them on
the way out. “Leaving so soon?” he asked.
“Angela isn’t feeling well,” Bryan said. “Thank you for inviting me.”
“Yes, thank you,” Angela said.
“I’m sorry you’re unwell, Ms. Krizova,” Carl said. He turned to Bryan. “Did you have a good visit with Stephanie? Isn’t she an amazing woman?”
“Yes,” Bryan said, though whether he was agreeing that he’d had a good visit or that Stephanie was amazing—or both—Angela didn’t know.
He didn’t say anything else until they’d reached his car. He opened the door for Angela, then walked around to the driver’s side. “Do you need me to stop anywhere on the way home?” he asked. “The drugstore or anything?”
“No, I’ll be all right,” she said. She stared out the side window at the lights of houses twinkling among the shadowed hills. “Carl tells me Stephanie is with your company’s marketing department,” she said.
“Yes.” The silence that followed this single syllable felt heavy with unsaid words. “Is this about her?” he asked. “Are you upset because I was talking with her?”
“No!” She faced him. “I’ll admit I felt awful, watching you with her, but not because I’m jealous.”
He glanced at her, then shifted his gaze back to the road. “Then why did you feel awful?”
“Because I was able to see the two of you as others must see you. She’s exactly the sort of woman others would expect to see you with—not someone like me.”
“Who cares what other people think?” he said angrily.
“Don’t you?” she asked. “Didn’t you tell me you’d do whatever was required to get to where you wanted to be? That you cut your hair and changed the way you dressed and put up with all the corporate BS and rules—because in the end you’d have what you always wanted?”
“What does any of that have to do with us?”
“Being with a woman like Stephanie would get you where you want to be faster than being with me,” she said.
“I think the woman I choose to be with is irrelevant,” he said stiffly.
“Don’t think I wasn’t aware of the way Carl reacted when you introduced me to him,” she said, her frustration with his refusal to acknowledge the truth rising. “He could scarcely hide his shock. And I didn’t miss how eager he was to introduce you to Miss California.”
“I don’t care what Carl thinks.”
“But you do,” she protested. “You have to. He’s your boss and he’s the one who’s going to decide whether or not you get the responsibilities—and the money—you need in order to one day run your own inn.”
He pulled into her driveway, and the car jerked to a halt. Switching off the engine, he turned to face her. “Despite what you think, I’m not a total sellout,” he said. “I’ll do a lot of things for the sake of my job, but I won’t let Carl Phelps—or anyone else—dictate what woman I’m with.”
“You say that now, but what about a year from now?” She swallowed a knot of tears, determined to say what needed to be said. As much as she wanted to believe in fantasy and romance, they lived in the real world, where practicality and peer pressure wielded more influence than most people cared to admit. “I don’t want to suffer the fallout when you realize I’m the one holding you back.”
“You’re wrong,” he said, but his voice held little conviction.
She unbuckled her seat belt and opened the door. “I wish I was,” she said. “But I don’t think I am. Good night, Bryan. I think maybe it would be better if we didn’t see each other anymore. It was wonderful while it lasted but maybe this kind of relationship isn’t meant to last.”
She climbed out of the car, ears straining to hear him call her back. She prided herself on being a strong woman, but if he came after her, she wasn’t sure she’d have the strength to resist.
He didn’t call out to her, though, and as she stood on her doorstep she heard the car start up and tires on gravel as he drove away.
She made it all the way to her bedroom before she started crying. She tried to tell herself this wasn’t as bad as being left at the altar by Troy. That she’d prepared herself all along for Bryan to eventually leave her. But all the rationalization in the world couldn’t lessen the pain in her heart. She’d allowed herself to hope that Bryan was the one—the man who would love her for the rest of her life.
She believed he did love her—the feelings between them were real. But love was a fragile, amorphous emotion, up against the tough realities of everyday life. People started out starry-eyed and hopeful, but at some point their vision cleared and demands of simply living picked away at their happiness.
It might be years before she and Bryan reached that point—or it could happen next week. She remembered clearly the beginning of the end for her and Troy, though she hadn’t recognized it as such at the time. They’d been engaged a little over a week. The play they’d been in had closed and they were out with friends, celebrating a successful run. Angela had excused herself to go to the ladies’ room, and when she’d returned, two of Troy’s friends were leaning over him. “I don’t understand why you’d choose her when you could have someone who is really hot,” one of the men said, his voice raised to be heard above the noise from the dance floor.
“You gotta consider what she’s going to look like after a couple of kids,” the other man said. “Maybe you think she’s sexy now, but what about in a few years? Do you really want to wake up to her every morning for the rest of your life?”
She could see Troy’s face clearly from where she was standing, though he hadn’t yet noticed her. He looked stunned, and a little sick to his stomach.
By the time she returned to their table, Troy had recovered, and greeted her warmly. Angela had told herself his friends’ comments didn’t matter. She and Troy loved each other and love helped them see past mere surface attributes, to the important things that lay within a person’s soul.
But as she’d waited for him at the courthouse on what was supposed to be their wedding day, that night had come back to her, and she’d known the truth. Troy was a handsome man, accustomed to being with only the most beautiful women. Whatever his feelings for her, they weren’t strong enough to overcome that conditioning. The wedding vows talked about for better or worse, in sickness and health, for richer or poorer. But there was no mention of beautiful or plain, thin or fat. People liked to think appearance didn’t really matter, but to some people it did.
Bryan was a smart man. A good man. When he’d had time to think things through, he’d see she was right to step out of his way now, before they got in any deeper. After all, if he saw a train wreck headed his way, he knew the only smart thing was to step off the track.
“WONDERFUL DINNER last night, wasn’t it?” Carl waylaid Bryan as he tried to slip into his office unnoticed Friday morning.
When Bryan only mumbled in answer, Carl looked at him more closely. Bryan didn’t have to see a mirror to know he presented a sorry picture—ashen skin, dark circles under his eyes, shoulders slumped. After leaving Angela, he’d driven aimlessly for the better part of an hour, before returning home to pace the floor most of the night. He was in no mood to deal with Carl’s forced chumminess.
“You’re looking worse for wear this morning,” Carl said. “Just a word to the wise. It’s never a good idea to overindulge at a business function. You might end up doing something you’ll regret.”
“I’ll remember that.” Bryan tried to push past his boss, but Carl blocked him.
“I noticed you spent quite a bit of time talking with Stephanie Reynolds. She’s a remarkable young woman, isn’t she? Brilliant, and very easy on the eyes, too.”
“Ms. Reynolds is very impressive, but I don’t need you to find a girlfriend for me. I already have one.” Or had one. He wasn’t sure what had come over Angela last night. She’d been fine when they arrived at the club. They’d enjoyed dinner, and she hadn’t seemed at all upset when Carl had dragged him away.
Was the problem really that she
was jealous of Stephanie and everything she’d said about his ambitions and society’s expectations had been a cover-up?
Carl took a step back. “I’m sorry if you thought that,” he said. “I wanted to introduce you to Stephanie because I thought the two of you had a lot in common,” he said stiffly. “I certainly wasn’t trying to meddle in your personal life. And you didn’t say there was anything serious between you and Ms. Krizova.”
Bryan managed to control his irritation. “I enjoyed meeting everyone last night,” he said. “Thank you for inviting me. I have some calls to make now, so please excuse me.”
Once in his office, he closed the door and sank into his desk chair. His head ached and his eyes felt as if they’d been sandblasted. He stared at the phone and thought about calling Angela. But what would he say? That she was wrong about him? That he wasn’t ambitious? That he hadn’t always dated women other men considered downright gorgeous? That he didn’t care what his boss thought of him?
The fact that she’d been right about all these things grated. He wasn’t as shallow and vain as such an assessment implied. He was honest enough to admit his flaws, but he had plenty of good points, too. Why didn’t she think those positive things—his compassion and smarts and work ethic—carried more weight than all the things she saw as impediments to their future happiness?
Most of all, he loved her. Love was supposed to trump everything else. Isn’t that what Zephyr had said? People wrote songs about love, fought wars over love and founded religions because of love.
He couldn’t think of Zephyr without feeling a pinch of guilt. His best friend’s accusation that Bryan was in danger of sacrificing friendship for ambition sat even less well alongside Angela’s rejection. Had Bryan really changed that much? All he’d wanted was to improve his life, but others apparently didn’t see all the changes as being for the better.