Waiting for Devon

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Waiting for Devon Page 2

by Dee Stewart


  “You?”

  “My brother and sister have no desire to be a part of BI at all. It’s been my whole life from the moment I was able to walk and talk. I would follow my father down those grand halls of our headquarters in Dallas and pretend I was a great, important man. When I graduated from high school, I attended Harvard and earned my master’s degree in business administration. I went to work immediately for my father. There isn’t one aspect of the company I don’t know as well as I know myself.”

  “So, what’s the problem?”

  “My wild, reckless youth is the problem,” Shane confessed with a wry grin. “My father believes my past affairs have been detrimental to my reputation as a serious businessman capable of running BI. He doesn’t feel I am ready for the responsibility of CEO.”

  “I see.” Devon tilted her head. “A fiancée will prove to your father you have changed and are willing to settle down. Why pretend, Shane? Why can’t you find a woman you love and propose to her?”

  A shadow crossed Shane’s face. “I’ve already found her, and I want to marry her more than anything else in this world. But I can’t. My father will never approve of her.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake. We’re not living in the Victorian Age. Why not?”

  “Because Alana wasn’t born into wealth like the Barringtons. She’s a teller in one of my father’s banks. There is an elite society in Dallas, and we Barringtons are one of several families who form the foundation. I love Alana, but I can’t marry her until I am CEO of BI. Please, Devon, I need your help.”

  Forget the twilight zone. She’d stepped into a soap opera. “I’m not wealthy, if that’s what you think.”

  “But you are a doctor,” Shane argued.

  “What you’re asking me to do is unethical. I have my integrity and my reputation to consider. Frankly, I have no idea why we’re even discussing this. It’s ludicrous. Tomorrow I’m going back to work.”

  Shane shook his head. “I can tell you’ve never dealt with anyone as powerful as Jasper Barrington. He bought you for two-million dollars. Linhart will not allow you to return to the hospital until he hears from my father.”

  “This is insane.” Frustration colored her tone. “Nothing like this ever happens to ordinary people.”

  “Devon, please,” Shane cajoled. “All I need is a little time to convince my father I’m truly engaged. As soon as that happens, he’ll appoint me CEO of BI. We’ll go our separate ways. I’ll make up some excuse, then I’ll be free to marry the woman I love.”

  “How much time?”

  “I don’t know. Perhaps two weeks. A month, at the most.”

  Devon rose from the sofa and wandered over to the large bay window in her living room. She hated deception of any kind, but what choice did she have? If she stayed in San Francisco, she would have to deal with her former husband. She expelled her breath. No one would have to know about her fake engagement. She would spend a month in Dallas, and when she left, she would never see anyone there again. What harm could there possibly be in a little pretense, especially if Jack believed she was getting married?

  She turned toward Shane, who watched her with an expectant expression on his face. “All right,” she capitulated. “What do we do now?”

  “We have six days to learn everything we can about each other.”

  “Okay. Let’s talk over dinner. I’m still hungry. Do you like pizza?”

  Shane grinned. “I love it.”

  “Good. There’s an Italian restaurant not far from here. After we eat we need to pick up my car from the hospital.”

  God help me.

  Chapter Two

  In a cozy corner of Romano’s Pizzeria, Shane listened as Devon shared her past with him. It had been years since she had spoken of her childhood with anyone, so sentimentality tinged her words. She spoke with great respect of her deceased father, a colonel in the USAF, and of her mother, also deceased, who was a high school math teacher. Devon explained her parents’ strict but loving guidance and support. As a military family, they moved frequently from place to place, and as a result, the Brookses were unusually close-knit. Devon adored her older brother Caleb, an architect for a firm in Seattle, and her younger sister Emmaline, an elementary school teacher in Fairfield. Since their father had passed away from a heart attack three years previously and the untimely death of their mother in a car accident a mere two months afterward, the Brooks siblings grew even closer, drawn together by their mutual grief.

  When Devon paused in her narration, Shane repeated everything he’d heard. “Did I forget anything?” he asked, reaching for his third slice of pepperoni pizza.

  “No. You’re a quick study.”

  “I need to know everything about you, even the most minute or mundane detail.”

  “There really isn’t much more to say, but here goes.”

  Devon took a deep breath and launched into her likes and dislikes. Afterward, she spoke about her education and career. She attended Stanford University and enrolled in medical school in Boston where she met the man she eventually married, Jack Taylor. Inseparable from the moment their eyes locked and held in a crowded lecture hall, they did their residency at the same hospital in Chicago where a marriage took place two years later. Devon found it difficult to speak about the devastating event that led to her divorce, and when she thought of her baby, unwanted tears sprang into her eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I didn’t mean to become so emotional.”

  Shane reached across the table and touched her hand. “It’s all right, Devon. You don’t need to apologize.”

  “Today is more difficult because my divorce was final a year ago. To make the situation worse, my ex-husband showed up at the hospital to ask for a reconciliation.”

  “He did?” Shane lifted a brow. “After what he did to you?”

  “Jack Taylor has an outrageous ego. The irony is almost laughable. Mr. Linhart, the hospital administrator, is probably going to hire him to take my place while I’m gone.”

  Shane chuckled. “So, your ex-husband knows you’re ‘engaged’?”

  “I certainly hope so. I don’t want to have any contact with him whatsoever.”

  “Then I guess our running into each other was a fortuitous event after all, Dr. Brooks.”

  She doubted it but refrained from flinging a sarcastic rebuttal.

  After they finished eating, Shane drove Devon back to the hospital to retrieve her car, and they went their separate ways for the night.

  Mentally and physically drained from the long day, Devon fell into bed. Although her mind whirled with a thousand different thoughts, sleep came almost immediately.

  It felt strange not rushing to get to the hospital the following morning as Devon showered and dressed. While she prepared brunch for her and Shane, she called the hospital to inquire about her young patients.

  After Jill explained the status and condition of each one, she asked, “Dr. Brooks, are you really engaged to Shane Barrington? Everyone thinks so, but, well, we work closely together, and I’d like to believe you would have shared this with me. Is it true?”

  “Jill, I can’t even begin to explain what’s happened. Please, please, don’t voice your doubts to anyone. Let the others believe what they want for now.” She paused. “Has Linhart hired Jack Taylor to fill my position?”

  “He’s having another extensive interview today. Why?”

  “Don’t tell him anything about me. I don’t want him to know I’ll be heading to Dallas in a few days. I’m only informing you so you know where I am if there’s an emergency.”

  “Jack Taylor won’t hear anything from me, but I can’t speak for someone else on staff who knows about your, uh, rather sudden engagement.”

  “If others gossip, there’s nothing I can do about it. I only hope my engagement will dissuade him from pursuing a reconciliation.”

  After reassuring Jill she would keep in touch, Devon bid her friend goodbye and placed a frozen quiche in the oven to
bake. She sliced fresh fruit and set the kitchen table.

  Shane arrived at ten o’clock, and while they ate, Devon showed him her family photo albums. They spent two hours studying pictures so he could recall important moments in the Brooks family. Devon quizzed him over and over until his answers about her past came from memory.

  When Shane began to speak about his own family, he told a much different story from hers. He, his brother, and sister grew up in a house full of staff members and absentee parents who spent most of their time socializing with Dallas’ elite and cultivating business relationships instead of taking an interest in their children. His voice held no bitterness or resentment. Shane’s tone was always matter-of-fact, even when he shared about his mother’s death.

  “I was ten.” He stared out the bay window of Devon’s home. “I don’t remember much of those days before the cancer took her from us except for feeling helpless and abandoned. My father shut himself away from us for days after the funeral. Poor Blair, my sister, was only five years old, and she hardly understood what was happening. All she knew was that her mother had disappeared and her father didn’t want to see her. She was so lost and confused, I didn’t know what to do to help her.”

  Shane shook himself free of the memory. “Thank God for Reed, my older brother who was twelve. He took the burden of caring for me and Blair on his shoulders even though Mom’s death hit him hardest. They were especially close because of their mutual love of horses, and although he kept his feelings well-hidden for our sake, I knew he must have been dying inside. Reed grew up fast that spring, and Blair…well, she developed a hard shell of indifference. She won’t allow others to get too close, and if they do, she pushes them away. She numbs her pain by drinking too much.”

  “And your brother, Reed? Did your mother’s death change him, too?”

  “It made him strong, I think, and independent. Reed doesn’t share my social aspirations or visions of the future of Barrington Industries. He’s content to raise and train horses on our ranch outside Dallas. As far as Blair is concerned, she has a degree in business administration but hasn’t shown an ounce of interest in the company, as I said earlier.”

  “Are they married?”

  He laughed. “No. Blair frightens away every guy who might be interested in her, and Reed won’t let anyone under his guard. I, on the other hand, am not ashamed to admit I want it all. I want the prestige and power of the Barrington name, but I also want – no – I need Alana in my life, too. I have never met a more unpretentious, sweet, generous, and compassionate woman than Alana. Everything I have would be meaningless without her.”

  “I hope she demonstrates some of her generosity when she learns about me,” Devon remarked.

  “I’ve already prepared her for this. She knew the day would come when I would have to make some kind of gesture to secure our future. Meeting you will not come as an unwanted surprise.”

  In spite of Shane’s reassurances, Devon doubted Alana Turner would react with good humor upon meeting the woman who claimed to be her lover’s fiancée. Taking a deep breath, Devon asked Shane if he had a picture of his brother and sister. He handed her a wallet-sized portrait taken three months ago. Blair Barrington resembled Shane with the same blonde hair and blue eyes. Her lovely oval face wore an expression of bored arrogance, typical of a high-class debutante, as her lips hardly turned at the corners. Yet, as she studied Shane’s sister, Devon detected an unmistakable hint of sadness behind the haughtiness.

  When her gaze fell upon Reed Barrington standing next to his sister, he arrested Devon’s attention. His golden hair, cut short in layers, reminded her of sun-kissed fields of grain. Deep sapphire eyes glittered with intensity. A wide smile revealed perfect white teeth and boyish dimples. Unlike Shane’s classical features, Reed possessed a rugged handsomeness that exuded a sensuality his brother lacked.

  An odd tingle caused either by excitement or anticipation traveled up her spine, and she shivered. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the mesmerizing countenance of Reed Barrington.

  Shane observed Devon’s prolonged attention on the photograph and remarked with a hint of mirth, “I don’t think it’s going to be that difficult to tell my sister and brother apart, Devon.”

  Her head snapped up, and she gave an embarrassed laugh at having been caught gaping. She returned the picture to him and said with a smile, “No, I suppose not.”

  Shane glanced at his watch and announced he had to attend to some business. “I’ll be back to take you out to dinner at six o’clock. We’ll make it a formal evening, and I’ll show you what will be expected of us socially.”

  “I can hardly wait,” she muttered beneath her breath as Shane took his leave.

  After checking in at the hospital, Devon called her brother at his office in Seattle. He greeted his sister with affection. “To what do I owe this unexpected call?”

  “Don’t worry, big brother.” She grinned. “I’m not going to ask for a loan.”

  “This time,” Caleb returned with a laugh. “Seriously, though, is everything all right?”

  Devon swallowed the heavy lump in her throat. “Yes. I phoned to let you know I’m leaving town. In a couple of days, I’m flying down to Dallas.”

  “Dallas?” he repeated. “Attending a convention?”

  “Actually, I’ll be, um, visiting friends. I’m taking some time off from the hospital.”

  “Really? Last week you said you were overwhelmed with work.”

  “I know. Thus the reason why I’m going on vacation.”

  “How long will you be in Dallas?”

  “I’m not sure, Caleb. A month, perhaps longer. Then I thought I would visit you and Robin, if that’s all right. I haven’t seen my adorable nephew and niece since Christmas.”

  “Come anytime you want. Look, I’m late for a meeting with a client. Take care, Dev. Call me, okay?”

  “I will. As soon as I reach Dallas,” she promised and ended the call.

  Devon couldn’t remember the last time she dressed up for a formal evening. She supposed it was sometime before her pregnancy. Unadulterated pain, raw and white-hot, stabbed her as she smoothed the black beaded cocktail dress down over her now flat stomach. Although two years had passed since her miscarriage, sometimes she could still feel the infant moving inside her body, and the realization her child was gone left her breathless from her agony. Most days she was hardly cognizant of the ever-present ache in her heart and the emptiness deep in her soul until she found herself crying for no reason.

  “When is it going to end?” she wondered aloud as she struggled to keep tears from falling and ruining her makeup. “When am I going to stop feeling this incredible loss? I can’t bear it.”

  Shane’s arrival forced Devon to compose herself before she opened the door. Executing a twirl, she smiled. “Well? Am I acceptable?”

  He nodded. “You look fantastic. I’ve made reservations at the Old Colonial Inn. Are you ready?”

  “Yes. Let me get a shawl and my purse.”

  The Old Colonial Inn, with its charming, romantic atmosphere, nestled in the hills above San Francisco. As Shane and Devon entered the elegant restaurant, a host led them to an attractive table in the main dining room.

  Devon felt an overwhelming temptation to tell Shane she had changed her mind about going along with his charade. After all, she barely knew him and did not feel any real obligation to help him. She still harbored serious reservations about compromising her integrity. If she were willing to fight hard enough, Devon could get her job back.

  Shane must have seen the doubt clouding her eyes, for he reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “I understand your resentment, Devon. But, if our act is convincing, it will be over quickly, and you can return to San Francisco. I promise I’ll help you get back your position when it’s time. Please. I really need you.”

  “Shane, I am having serious second thoughts. If this hoax becomes public knowledge, my career could very well be ruined. My patien
ts are my life. I don’t have anything else.”

  “Devon, I’m going to do everything in my power to keep that from happening. Dad is suspicious, but it will be easy to fool everyone else.”

  A waiter interrupted their conversation to serve them Caesar salads. When he left, Shane continued, “We don’t have anything to worry about. All you have to do is charm my father and let me do the rest.”

  After more persuasive arguing, Devon acquiesced. Before their main entrée arrived, Shane led his reluctant partner onto the dance floor. Devon felt stiff in his unfamiliar arms, and he murmured, “Relax. No one will believe we’re in love if you don’t allow me to hold you a little closer. Believe me, Alana is the only woman I want in my arms.”

  Drawing a deep breath, Devon did as Shane suggested and enjoyed the dance in spite of herself. As the music ended and they made their way back to their table, he said, “Sooner or later, we’re going to have to practice kissing.”

  She gasped. “You’re serious.”

  “One or two public kisses ought to be sufficient.” He looked as miserable as she felt.

  “Anything beyond that is strictly out of the question. And don’t even think about shoving your tongue down my throat.”

  “No problem. I can’t risk losing Alana.”

  Chapter Three

  “Devon, whom do you think you are fooling?” Emmaline demanded. “You don’t know a single soul in Dallas. Perhaps you were able to fool Caleb with this cockamamie story, but I know you better than he does. Now, what’s going on? Tell me the truth.”

  “If I told you the truth, you wouldn’t believe it. And if you did, you would disapprove. And if I listened long enough to your objections, I would change my mind altogether.”

  “What are you babbling about?”

  “I’ve met someone,” Devon hedged. “I’m going to Dallas to meet his family.”

 

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