by Patricia Kay
Sydney ate some of her enchiladas before answering. “I don’t know how to talk to men.”
John laughed out loud. “Seems to me you’re doing just fine.”
“I feel comfortable with you,” Sydney blurted out, then wished she could take the words back. What if he thought she was flirting with him? Well, would that be so bad?
“Good.” His eyes were warm as they met her gaze. “I feel comfortable with you, too.”
Shyness attacked Sydney, and she had to look away. She ate some rice and beans, then more of her enchilada. When she looked up again, John’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Stop laughing at me.”
“I’m not laughing at you,” he said softly. “I’m just wondering how someone as obviously intelligent as you are can possibly think of yourself as unfeminine. Don’t you ever look in the mirror?”
Sydney blushed. Once again, she was thankful for the dim lighting. “I look in the mirror all the time. That’s the problem.” Besides, she didn’t need to look in the mirror. Men’s reactions to her told a much more accurate story.
“You must be blind, then, because you’re a beautiful woman.” He hesitated for a moment. “With, may I add, gorgeous legs.”
“Could we please talk about something else?” Sydney said, completely embarrassed by the turn the conversation had taken. It was sweet of John to try to make her feel good about herself, but enough was enough. She wasn’t beautiful, not by a long shot, and she knew it. She was too tall, her feet were too big, her hair was too straight and she had no feminine wiles whatsoever. And as for her legs . . . well, she guessed they were okay. They’re more than okay, and you know it. Why else did you buy those red heels? Sydney squirmed uncomfortably, thinking about the Manolo Blahniks she hadn’t been able to resist the last time she’d had to go to New York on a case.
“Okay,” John said agreeably. “If that’ll make you less uncomfortable. What do you want to talk about?” He ate some more of his food.
“You. What kind of law did you practice?”
“I was a tax law specialist.”
“Tax law!” Somehow, John didn’t fit the role.
He grinned. “Sounds boring, doesn’t it?”
“Actually, yes.”
“It wasn’t. I really enjoyed it. I was good at it, too. What kind of law did you think I practiced?”
“You look like a criminal lawyer.”
“That was Andrea’s specialty.” At the mention of his wife, the grin disappeared.
Sydney hesitated a moment, then said, “Your wife must have been very young when she died.”
“Thirty-six.”
Only two years older than Sydney was now. “What happened?” she asked softly.
He sighed and laid down his fork. He took a final swallow of his margarita, then set the empty glass down. “We always jogged together. Every morning. I ran ten miles a day, but Andrea could never run more than six miles at a time, no matter how hard she tried. I always teased her about it, because she was so competitive, and she hated me to best her at anything.” Sydney watched his face as he talked. Although his voice was impassive, his eyes mirrored his emotions.
“On that particular morning, I said something like, ‘Why don’t you admit it? There are some things a man can do better than a woman, like run.’ She said she’d never admit that, that she’d run as far as me that morning if it killed her.”
Sydney’s heart seemed to stop. She knew what was coming and she wanted to tell him it was okay, he didn’t have to say the words out loud.
“I egged her on. That’s what I can’t forget. I egged her on, and fifteen minutes later, about mile eight and a half, she collapsed,” he said tonelessly. “She was dead before the ambulance arrived.”
“Oh, God,” Sydney said. “How awful for you.”
“The doctors said it was an aneurism. That it didn’t matter that she was pushing herself. That it could have happened even if she’d been sitting quietly.” He laughed, the sound ragged. “I know they were telling me the truth, but that doesn’t help. I still feel guilty. I still feel responsible.”
“Oh, John, surely you don’t blame yourself!”
“Who else is there?” he said bitterly. “I’m alive, and Andrea’s dead. And how can the doctors be so sure the jogging had nothing to do with what happened?”
“John, even I, who know very little about medicine, know that an aneurism doesn’t just happen. If a person has one, it can remain stationary for years, causing no harm, and then one day. . . boom. It’s all over.”
“Look, I know you mean well, Sydney, and I appreciate it, but let’s change the subject, okay? I really don’t want to talk about this. I usually don’t. I don’t know why I did tonight.”
Sydney impulsively reached across the table and touched his hand. “I’m glad you trusted me enough to tell me.”
He turned his hand palm up and closed it around hers. Their gazes met and held for several heartbeats. Sydney didn’t even realize she was holding her breath until he released her hand after first giving it a little squeeze.
It was only then that she admitted to herself how very much she wanted John Appleton to keep trusting her.
And how very much she wanted to keep seeing him.
Chapter Five
John wasn’t sure what was wrong with him, but no matter how he tried, he couldn’t get Sydney out of his mind. All week long, whatever he was doing, his thoughts kept straying to Monday night.
He kept picturing her as she’d looked sitting across the table from him. Her hair swinging softly around her face, shining honey gold in the candlelight. Her eyes, dark blue and intense, as they watched him. Her slender fingers wrapped around the stem of her glass. The vulnerable sweep of her jaw. Her soft mouth-just a little too wide, but appealing, nevertheless.
Where had she ever gotten the idea she wasn’t feminine? From her mother?
John had known Sydney was trying to hide her femininity, but he’d thought the reason had something to do with her profession. He’d figured Sydney thought she had to look tough to succeed. But she really believed she wasn’t attractive.
The woman was beautiful, in his opinion. True, she might not be everyone’s type. She certainly wasn’t fragile and clinging, and she didn’t bat her eyes and act helpless, like some women. But John had never been attracted to women like that, anyway.
No, he liked women who were smart and strong, witty and confident. A match for him. A challenge for him.
Sydney was all of that... and more.
But Monday night had only reinforced John’s decision that, just as he’d suspected, it would be foolhardy to entertain any idea of an involvement with Sydney. The two of them were on completely different courses in life.
Sydney had as much as admitted she wasn’t interested in marriage and children. Sure, she’d said if the right man came along she might be, but she hadn’t fooled John. She was obviously consumed by her career, just as driven and competitive as he had once been. And that was not the kind of life John intended to ever lead again—no matter how much he might miss the stimulation of his law practice. His kids deserved more than that. And he would give them more than that.
It was a shame, though, he reflected with regret. He had enjoyed himself Monday night. He had forgotten how satisfying good conversation and good food and the company of an attractive woman could be.
Sydney had reminded him of all that, of how much he was missing, of how much he had lost.
It was actually kind of funny. All of Janet’s and Mike’s and his mother’s reminders and lectures hadn’t been able to do what one evening in Sydney’s company had accomplished.
John smiled, remembering how Janet had acted when he had arrived home after saying good-night to Sydney and seeing her off in her car.
“Well?” she’d said with undisguised curiosity as he entered the house. “How was it?”
“Nice.”
“Nice?” She looked skeptical.
“Yes, nice. I enjoyed
myself. She’s an interesting woman.”
Janet made a face. “Oh, she’s interesting, all right.”
John didn’t like her tone of voice. “Why do you say it that way?”
Janet shrugged. “I don’t know.” Her hazel eyes met his. “Yes, I do know. I don’t like that woman, John.”
“You don’t even know her.”
“I know that she acts as if she’s better than other people.”
He frowned. “No, she doesn’t.”
“Why are you defending her?”
“Because you’re not being fair to her. You’ve seen her exactly once, and you’ve already formed an opinion. That isn’t like you, Jan.”
Janet’s eyes widened. “Why, you’re attracted to her, aren’t you? I can’t believe it.”
John rarely got angry with Janet. Being twins, the two of them were generally on the same wavelength, plus Janet was a non-combative person with a sunny disposition. Yet now he could almost feel his blood pressure going up. “Just what is it you can’t believe, Jan? Is it so hard to believe that I might be interested in a woman? Hell, you’re the one who’s been so hot to get me to start dating again.”
“Yes, but, my God, John, not with someone like Sydney Wells.”
“There’s not a thing wrong with Sydney Wells. She’s attractive, intelligent and good company. And you’re right. I am attracted to her, and not just a little bit, either.”
Janet looked stunned.
John’s anger evaporated as quickly as it had formed. “Let’s not fight, okay? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”
“I... it’s okay. It’s none of my business who you date. I know that.”
“Aw, Jan, I know you worry about me.” He pulled her close for a quick hug. “But you don’t need to. And you don’t need to worry about Sydney, either, because even though she does interest me, I won’t be seeing her again.”
* * *
Sydney knew she needed all her wits about her during this trial, but the day after her dinner with John, she found her mind wandering, and she had to force herself to stop thinking about him and about their evening together.
All day Tuesday, she couldn’t wait to get back to the office to see if he’d called her. Anticipation rippled through her as she accepted her message slips from Norma. But when she hurriedly sorted through them, there was no message from John. Among the messages was one from her father, however. She knew he wanted an update on her day in court. Thrusting thoughts of John from her mind, she picked up the phone.
“Hi, Dad,” she said when he answered.
“Hi. How’d things go today?”
“Good. Real good, I think.”
“Who testified today?”
“The defense experts.”
“The Bartlett woman?”
Her father was referring to one of the state social workers—a woman that had worried Sydney because from everything Sydney had been able to see, the woman sounded very credible—and she was going to testify that, in her opinion, Kara would be better off with her mother. “Ada Bartlett will testify tomorrow.”
“You worried?”
Sydney shrugged. “Not really. I think I can punch a few holes in her testimony.”
“I know you can!”
They talked a few more minutes, then her father said, “It’s really going to be fun when this trial is over. I have a feeling the offers are going to come pouring in.”
“Dad--”
“I’m so proud of you, Sydney.”
After they hung up, Sydney sighed. She wondered what would happen if she didn’t win the case. Her father would be awfully disappointed. She would be, too, but not for the same reasons.
Still thinking about her father, she forgot about John for a while, but that night she thought about him again. She decided he had probably not called her today because he thought it was too soon. Yes, that was it. He would call her tomorrow.
But on Wednesday there was no message from him.
And on Thursday, when she returned to her office from court, and again there was no message, she asked Norma twice if there were any others that she might have forgotten to give her.
Norma gave her a funny look. “No, Miss Wells, that’s it. Were you expecting one in particular?”
“No, no. Not really.”
Sydney told herself she didn’t care that he hadn’t called, but a funny little ache tightened her chest.
John, I thought you liked me!
Why didn’t he call? Surely she hadn’t imagined the interest sparking his eyes. When he’d told her she was beautiful, she was positive he’d meant it. And when he’d taken her hand, she could have sworn he’d felt the same awareness she’d felt.
So, if that were true, why didn’t he call? God, what was wrong with her that she couldn’t even get to first base, let alone home plate, with a man who interested her?
Why don’t you call him?
Sydney swiveled her chair around to look out her twenty-third-story window. Now that the clocks had been turned back, and Houston was once more on standard time, dusk fell early. It wasn’t even six o’clock and already the sky had purpled in the east.
Why didn’t she call him?
After all, she was a woman of the nineties. Didn’t women of the nineties go after what they wanted? They sure as heck didn’t sit around waiting for things to happen. They made things happen. She had always made things happen.
So call him.
Sydney chewed on the end of her pencil, a habit she’d been trying to break for months, with no success. She watched as low-hanging clouds scuttled across the sky. It was supposed to rain tomorrow, she remembered.
Should she call him?
Why not? If you’d been to someone’s home for dinner, you’d call and reciprocate or at least call and thank them, so why should the rules be any different because he’d taken her to a restaurant?
That was it. She’d call and ask him to dinner.
But what would he think if she did? Would he think she was going after him?
So what if he does?
Yes. So what if he did? Wasn’t the direct approach better than playing those silly games men and women played? Besides, Sydney was no good at those games. Never had been.
She swiveled her chair around again, looked at the phone for a few seconds, then took a deep breath and picked up the receiver.
* * *
John was halfway up the stairs when the phone rang. For a second, he debated whether to take the rest of the stairs two at a time and grab the call upstairs or race down and get it in the office.
Down won.
“Appleton Legal Temps,” he said, snatching it up before the recorder could kick in.
“I was beginning to think no one was going to answer.”
He recognized Sydney’s voice immediately. Pleasure he couldn’t deny filled his voice as he said, “You caught me on the stairs. It took me a while to decide whether to race up or race down.”
“You mean your business phone rings upstairs, too?”
“Well, yes,” he admitted. “Although I turn the sound down in the evenings and mostly just let the recorder pick up any calls that come in.”
“And I thought I was a workaholic.”
“It’s not as bad as it sounds. Hardly anyone ever calls after hours.” After a slight pause during which she didn’t say anything, he added, “So how’s your week been? The new temp working out all right?”
“Yes, she’s working out fine.”
“How about the trial?”
“The trial’s moving along, and I feel pretty good about it, except that Kara’s mother testified today, and she was a darned good witness. Much better than I would have guessed.”
“Is that going to be a problem?”
He could almost hear her shrug. “I don’t know. It’s impossible to read this jury. Sometimes I think Kara’s case is a shoo-in. Other times I’m not so sure. Her mother made a very sympathetic witness. Even I felt sorry for her.”
“How much longer do you expect the trial to go?”
“Another couple of days, I think. Final arguments should come about Wednesday.”
John would love to hear Sydney give her final argument on this case.
There was another awkward little pause. Then she said, “Listen, John, the reason I called was to thank you for dinner Monday and to offer a payback.”
“A payback?”
She laughed, and to John’s ears the laugh sounded a bit forced, a bit false. “You know, reciprocity. I’d like to take you to dinner.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“I know it’s not necessary. I want to. Are you by any chance free tomorrow night?”
“Uh, tomorrow night? Tomorrow night is Friday.” He had something going on tomorrow night, he was sure of it. “Wait a minute.” He flipped the calendar page over. There it was. “I’m sorry, Sydney. I knew there was something. Tomorrow night there’s a musical at the kids’ school, and I promised to take them.”
“Oh, well, in that case...”
He could tell she didn’t believe him. Her voice had that hollow sound to it. Damn! Why had she called? Why had she put him in this position? He’d probably hurt her feelings. He knew he’d hurt her feelings.
“Could we make it Saturday night, instead?” he heard himself say.
“I hate to make you give up your Saturday night. I just thought—”
“I want to,” he interjected. He did want to. That was the problem.
After they’d settled on a time and a place, and John got directions to her condo, they hung up. As John slowly climbed the stairs, he had a feeling he might be sorry for his impulsive action a few minutes ago. It would have been much better to just let Sydney’s feelings be hurt. She would have gotten over it. A turndown of an invitation wasn’t that big a deal. This way, seeing her again, was likely to cause much bigger problems.
For both of them.
* * *
Sydney worked on polishing her final argument until three o’clock on Saturday. Then, to the obvious surprise of Norma, who had agreed to come in for the day, she packed up her briefcase and breezed out of the office.