by Amii Lorin
Sanity returned with full wakefulness and Anne shuddered. Imust be cracking up, she thought derisively. The sooner that man goes back to his mistress the better. If he stays much longer, I'll be flinging myself into his arms and begging him to love me.
* * * *
It proved a lot easier to break her engagement to Andrew than Anne had dared hoped. That Saturday night they went to a small party at the home of one of Andrew's friends and surprisingly Anne enjoyed herself. It was the first time in weeks they'd been in the company of people their own age and as several of Anne's friends were there, there was no lack of conversation. The party was in the way of a double celebration—an engagement party and to celebrate the promotion of the newly engaged young man.
Anne observed the couple during the evening with something close to envy. They were so happy and so obviously in love. This is the way it should be, Anne thought sadly, her resolution to break her own engagement strengthening.
It was after two in the morning when they left the party and Anne, only half awake, barely heard what Andrew was saying until he said sharply, "Did you hear what I said, Anne? I'm leaving Slonne's office."
Fully alert now, Anne turned startled eyes to him.
"But why? When will you go? Do you have another position lined up?
"That's what I've been telling you for the last five minutes," he snapped exasperatedly. "I'm going into a very prestigious firm in Philadelphia. Tax work mainly."
"Philadelphia?" Anne was stunned, and it showed. "But Andrew, surely this hasn't happened overnight. Why haven't you told me before?"
For a moment Andrew looked uncomfortable then he shrugged. "I wanted to be certain before I said anything. I accepted this firm's offer yesterday and told Mr. Slonne this morning. I'll be leaving in two weeks."
"Andrew," Anne hesitated, then plunged, "I think you'd better take your ring with you when you go."
The car was filled with silence for some time and Anne saw his hands tighten on the wheel then relax again. Sighing softly, in what Anne thought sounded very much like relief, he flicked her an evasive glance.
"I assume there's a reason you no longer want to marry me?"
This was the Andrew she had always known—cool, almost pompous.
"I just don't think it would work," she answered softly. "I'm sorry, Andrew, but I'm afraid we're moving in different directions. Do you realize that tonight is the first time in weeks we've been with our friends? Whenever we go out it's in the company of clients or contacts. You're ambitious to the exclusion of everything else."
Andrew smiled cryptically. "Not quite everything, Anne." Neither inclined nor curious enough to question him on exactly what that meant, Anne rushed on. "I'm not saying that kind of ambition is necessarily wrong, it is just not for me." Anne paused then honesty made her add, "Andrew, I don't love you. At least not enough to make a lifetime commitment to you."
They were almost home and Andrew was quiet as he drove up the driveway and parked in front of the large, old-fashioned house. His face somber, he turned to her, his arm resting on the steering wheel.
"You know, Anne, you've changed lately."
Anne felt a stab of pure panic. Had she given herself away? Then she sighed with relief as he added, "You always were quiet, but now, I don't know, you seem withdrawn and preoccupied. I suppose all the upheaval in the office hasn't been easy for you. You've really declared war on Jud, haven't you?"
"Andrew, it's not—
"Never mind," he cut off. "You don't have to pretend with me. It's fairly obvious that you can't stand him. Don't misunderstand me, I don't blame you. I don't like him either, and I do understand you wanting to protect your brothers' interests until they are out of school."
He paused and Anne stared at him in wonder. Most of what he'd said after "It's fairly obvious you can't stand him," had barely registered. Fervently she hoped that everyone had the same impression of her feelings about Jud, including Jud himself. Andrew's quiet voice intruded on her thoughts.
"As you've been honest with me, I think it only fair if I tell you I've been having doubts of my own about us."
Curious now, Anne had to ask, "Is there someone else, Andrew?"
He glanced away, then back again, a small, dry smile on his lips.
"Well, yes and no. I'm attracted to someone. I’m not sure if the attraction is mutual. I think it is, but I'm not sure. If you don't mind, that's all I have to say on it."
"No, of course I don't mind." Anne slipped his ring off her finger and handed it to him, adding, "Your private life is none of my business."
He looked rueful a moment as his fingers closed over the cluster of diamonds then he shook his head once.
"No hard feelings, Anne?"
"No, Andrew, no hard feelings. I think we can be glad we realized our mistake now. It would have been much worse later. I will miss you though."
"I'm going to Philadelphia, Anne," he laughed softly. "Not the end of the world. If you need anything," he grinned, "like free legal advice, call me. Oh, by the way, I will still expect an invitation to Troy and Todd's graduation party."
"You'll have it." Leaning to him, she kissed him lightly on the cheek.
"Good luck, Andrew, with the new firm and—everything."
As luck would have it, Jud was the first to notice the lack of adornment on Anne's finger, and then it would have to be when they were all at the dinner table on Sunday, while Mrs. Davis was serving the soup.
"Your hand appears strangely naked, Anne," he drawled. "You haven't misplaced your engagement ring, have you?"
All eyes, including Mrs. Davis's, swung to Anne's hand. Pink-cheeked, hating him, she snapped, "No, I haven't misplaced it; I gave it back,"
"Anne!"
Her mother's shocked voice had Anne wishing she hadn't avoided everyone all day on the pretext of having things to do in her room. She had known she should go to her mother with some sort of explanation, but she had shied away from it. Now she was sorry she hadn't.
Anne drew a deep calming breath before saying quietly, "It's all right, Mother. I—I—Andrew and I—well, we've decided to call it off."
"But why? Anne, I don't understand." Margaret's voice held a plaintive note. "I don't understand you anymore. You're changing. Everything's changing." She sent a bitter glance at Jud, who received it with a look of total unconcern, before she went on, her voice rising an octave. "I seldom see you anymore." She glanced from Troy to Todd. "I seldom see you two anymore. I feel like a stranger in my own home. And now this." Her voice rising even more, she turned again to Jud. "You, you said you would not disrupt this house, yet, since you came home, there's been nothing but disruption."
"Mrs. Davis, I think you'd better wait a few minutes before serving the rest of the meal. I'll call you when we're ready to resume eating." Jud's flat tone dropped into the silence that had gripped the room after Margaret's outburst.
"Yes, sir."
He waited until the door swished closed behind the housekeeper, then turned eyes as hard as flint to Margaret,
"Actually, Margaret, what I said was I had no wish to disrupt the normal routine of this house. I'm sorry if Troy and Todd's absence upsets you, but, as that is how it has to be, you may as well get used to it."
"Now look here, Jud, you—" Todd began.
"Don't interrupt," Jud snapped. "I never said there wouldn't be any changes. The old man indulged you, I won't. I haven't the time or the inclination. Margaret, you have no cause for complaint. In the last month I've paid bills for you to the tune of three thousand dollars."
Anne's eyes flew to her mother. What in the world had she bought? Her silent question was answered defensively by Margaret.
"I needed some new spring clothes, darker colors. I'm still in mourning for your father."
"I don't think the question of need applies here." Jud's tone was dry. "But that's beside the point. The point being, I have not questioned these expenditures. As stated, the bills are paid." One pale eyebrow was cocke
d in Troy and Todd's direction. "Yours too."
A frown creasing her smooth brow, Anne watched as a flush mounted in her brothers' faces. Good grief! Todd and Troy too?
But why? They received a more than generous allowance. This time Jud answered her silent questions.
"Don't delude yourselves into believing I don't know what the game is. The name of the game is Test Jud." Jud's eyes moved slowly around the table and the smile that twisted his lips made Anne's blood run cold. "There will be no more games, no more tests. Is that understood?"
Silence and three pairs of eyes guiltily turned to Anne with a mute appeal for help.
"Jud, really, I don't think there was any intention—
"Shut up, Anne."
Anne gasped at the hard finality of Jud's tone. Who the hell did he think he was?
As if he could read her mind, Jud told her exactly who he was.
"I know what the intention was and I'm having no more of it. I made it perfectly clear at the beginning that I am the boss. I wasn't playing with words and I wasn't kidding. Now for the last time, is that understood?"
Anne found herself nodding her head in unison with the three he had addressed his question to. Awareness of the docile action brought a stillness to her body, a flare of anger to her eyes. Jud's sharp glance did not miss the flare and, as if in a deliberate attempt to fan it into a full flame, he prodded, "I haven't received any of your bills, Anne. Strange, but it would seem that the only one of you that does any real work is also the only one not spending tike a drunken sailor."
Anne's head snapped up, eyes now blazing.
"I pay my own bills," she stated emphatically. "I always have. As for Mother, Troy, and Todd, your father set the life-style by which they live. Why should it surprise or annoy you if they expect to go on as before? They know the money is there; and the company is doing very well. Dammit, Jud, you can't expect them to adjust to all these changes overnight."
"Ah—the champion jumps in to beard the lion." Jud's soft purr scraped like a rough file against Anne's anger. "Little mother to the rescue," he taunted. "I really hate to stamp on your act," he lied, "but I hardly think five weeks can be classified as overnight. I am not my father. It was his company solely. I have no intention of working myself into the grave just so my family can live in the same life-style. Not for forty-five percent of that company, or, for that matter, anything at all. There will be changes. Get used to it."
"As easy as that?" Troy snapped his fingers, his expression full of contempt.
"No, Troy, I didn't say it would be easy." Jud's words were slow and measured, each one underlined verbally. "But by the time you come into your own in the company, you'll know you've earned it. And believe me, that knowledge cannot be measured in time or money. Now, will it upset anyone if I suggest we finish dinner?"
Chapter 7
As she drove to work the following morning Anne had the feeling of being reprieved, if temporarily. The topic of her broken engagement had been submerged under the barrage of angry words that had been hurled around the room and Anne had escaped to her bedroom before it could be revived. She knew she would have to give her mother a fuller explanation, but meanwhile she had the whole day in which to form the words plausibly, she thought.
When exactly was it that your brain stopped working?Anne asked herself ten minutes after she entered her office. That was right after Jud walked through the door from his office, stood, hands on his hips, in front of her desk and said bluntly,"You never did say why you and Andrew decided to call it off."
Damn the man. Anne held her breath a moment, then let it out very slowly. Why did he have to look so good? In a buff-colored suit and cream shirt he was tawny all over. Was he aware of the effect? Anne wondered. Very likely. Needing to put some distance between them, Anne pushed back her chair, stood up, and walked to the window, tossing over her shoulder, "I didn't realize I was obliged to say why."
"To me? Or anyone at all?"
Anne jerked at the sound of his voice right behind her. How in the world did the man move so silently? It was enough to give you the goose bumps.
"To anyone, really."
Her voice betrayed her shakiness and in defense she kept her head turned to the window.
"Annie, are you hurting?" he asked softly. "You sound on the verge of tears. And you were crying Friday night. Has he hurt you very badly?"
"It's nothing I won't live through," she murmured. Lord, how easy it would be, and how tempting, to let him believe it was Andrew she'd been crying over and who put the tremor in her voice now. But it wouldn't be fair to cast Andrew as the heavy. She would just have to bluff it out. Her voice stronger, she added, "I told you Friday I had a bad headache. I've had several lately. I guess I've been working too hard. As for Andrew, no, he hasn't hurt me. It was a mutual decision. We want different things from life, that's all."
"And it took you all these months to discover that?"
Jud's tone conveyed his disbelief and in desperation Anne cried, "Yes. I knew he was ambitious, but I didn't know how much so until just lately."
"There's something wrong with ambition?"
"No, no. Oh, you don't understand."
"I know," he replied quietly. "That's why I'm asking."
Exasperated, Anne spun around and went taut, her breath catching in her throat. He was so close she could see the dark brown flecks in his amber eyes, eyes that roamed slowly over her face, then settled on her mouth. Barely able to breathe, Anne choked, "He—he no longer wants to socialize with anyone but business contacts and he's leaving Mr. Slonne's office, going into a bigger firm in Philadelphia."
"So," Jud purred, "he finally landed it."
"What do you mean?" Anne whispered, eyes widening. "Did you know about this?"
"For several weeks now." Jud paused, studying her closely as if trying to decide whether to tell her more. Suddenly he shrugged in a why-the-hell-not sort of way and said, "Lorna's father is a senior partner in a very high-class law firm in New York." He smiled slightly at the surprise on her face and chided, "Yes, Annie, Lorna doesn't have to work as a secretary. Not for me or anyone else. She chooses to do so.
“A smart girl is our Lorna. But that's beside the point. Anyway, not long after Lorna went back to New York, Andrew ran into her. He took her to lunch and during the course of conversation she mentioned her father. That was all your ambitious Andrew needed. Through Lorna he met some people, made some of those business contacts you just mentioned and, from what you've said, they have paid off. This move he's making is really for the best, Anne," he tacked on softly. "He would never have been content here."
Even though Anne didn't love Andrew and the engagement was irrevocably broken, she felt cheated and in some way betrayed. All this time he'd been seeing Lorna, making plans to change firms and he hadn't said a word to her. Why? Anne had no idea that her thoughts gave her face a wistful, lost look and the harsh tone of Jud's voice startled her.
"Forget him. You wouldn't have been happy with him anyway. You couldn't have given him what he needs."
"What"
His tone and the words were like a slap in the face, an insult to her femininity and the pain they caused laced her voice.
"Exactly what I said." The tone was softer, but the words just as hard. "Andrew is a man on the make. For position, power. He needs the kind of woman who's willing to keep up with him, if not one step ahead. The kind of woman who, if she doesn't have them already, will go out and make contacts and friends, who'll help him move up. You're not that kind of woman, Anne, and you'd tear yourself apart if you tried to be."
Andrew's words "I've been having second thoughts myself" were now very clear. He had reached the conclusion that she was not the right kind of woman. What kind of woman was she? Was she any man's kind of woman? She only wanted to be one man's kind of woman and it was obvious from the way they were always arguing that she wasn't that. The thought sent a wave of defeat through her and fighting tears she closed her eyes. The next mom
ent her shoulders were being grasped and she was pulled roughly against a hard, exciting chest.
"Don't look like that," Jud rasped. "Dammit, Anne, there are other men in the world. Men worth one hell of a lot more than he is in all the ways that count."
Oh, Jud. There is only one man in this world I'll ever be able to see. Oh, God, I love you. If you knew what sweet torture it is to be held in your arms like this. Don't ever stop holding me. Don't ever go away again. Name your price and I'll pay it, whatever it is. Just don't leave me like you did before, hurting, longing, wanting.
The very intensity of Anne's emotions frightened her, made her draw back. I have got to stop this, she thought wildly. If I don't clamp down on my feelings, I'll shatter like a piece of glass when he finally does go. Help me, Jud, she pleaded silently.Insult me, fight with me. Anything, only please, please help me.
Maybe prayers are answered, even silent ones, for at that moment Jud released her and stepped back, his fingers raking through his hair. His face seemed a little pale, his breathing not quite even as he prowled around the small room; then he strode into his own office, slamming the door behind him. A few seconds later the door was flung open again and he ordered, "Anne, come in here."
Anne smoothed clammy palms over her skirt, adjusted first her blouse, then her jacket. After composing her face, she walked as calmly as possible into his office. He was perched on the corner of his desk, the fingers of one hand drumming impatiently on the gleaming surface. A deep frown drew his eyebrows together and he had an unleashed, dangerous look.
MI know this is probably not the right time," he began quietly enough, "but I have to ask you something,"
Completely mystified by his tone, she asked equally quietly, "What is it?"
He hesitated, not looking at her before he turned the full blast of glittering amber on her.
"I want you to sell me your stock."
Stunned, Anne dropped into the chair in front on him. Was he out of his mind? Or did he think Andrew had so wounded her she would be grateful to sell out, creep away somewhere and lick her wounds?