But Not for Me

by Annette Broadrick

  Rich gave her a strong pat on the back and asked, “Are you okay? Can I do anything?”

  She shook her head and continued to cough. He silently handed her his drink and she gratefully accepted it, sipping until her throat relaxed enough for her to breathe.

  She handed him back his drink. “Thanks. There must have been a bone in that drink,” she joked, hoping he wouldn’t guess that her reaction had been caused by his words. She was a professional. She could handle the matter, even if the matter concerned her.

  “All right,” she finally said, straightening her shoulders and making sure there was no ice stuck in her blouse or jacket. “What’s this rumor about me?”

  Rich cleared his throat. “You know that I respect and admire you very much, Rachel. I can’t deny that I was attracted to you as soon as I joined the company. I made my attraction obvious, pestering you to go out with me. You were very courteous with me and I understood your reasons for not seeing me away from work. Office romances can get sticky. You were right.”

  She wanted so badly to ask, “And your point is?” but restrained herself.

  As was her way, she remained silent, knowing that most people were nervous when a silence fell. They tended to fill it. She’d been amazed at what she’d heard people say during such times and at their shock that they had done so.

  “So,” Rich continued after the silence had stretched to several minutes. “When I heard the rumors I did my best to squelch them. But now I hear that some of the employees are claiming they can substantiate the rumors.”

  “What rumors, Rich? So far, I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.”

  “The rumor that you and Brad are having an affair,” he said in a rush. “They’re saying it started when you flew to North Carolina with him a couple of weeks ago and that since you’ve returned, you’ve been seen leaving the parking garage together on a regular basis. Some enterprising soul decided to follow you to see if he dropped you off somewhere, but he didn’t. His car went directly to his home.”

  Rachel disliked the idea that she was being gossiped about, although variations of that rumor had been circulating almost as long as they’d had an office staff. She’d once overheard one woman stating to another in the ladies’ lounge—neither of them aware of her presence in one of the stalls—that she was sure the only way Rachel had gotten the position of administrative assistant was by interviewing on her back.

  She’d considered going to Brad with the story at the time, but by then she knew him well enough to know his temper would only make matters worse. He would probably have fired the woman, raising such a stink that everyone working there would have been convinced they were sleeping together.

  She’d never been sorry for not confronting the woman. She had to consider the source and console herself with the knowledge that the story wasn’t true.

  This rumor could not be handled in the same way. She knew that. She also knew that she had been the one to encourage Brad to keep their marriage a secret. She wanted him to become more comfortable with their arrangement before suggesting that it might be time to consider acknowledging their relationship.

  For the past three weeks she’d been living in her own world, a world with Brad in the center, barely noticing everyone else passing by.

  Rich turned on the bench to face her. His expression was more than concerned. He might be apprehensive about speaking frankly to her. He might also hope she would feel guilty for breaking her own rules about office romances. Whatever he hoped for, he was no doubt disappointed when she said,

  “Thank you for letting me know, Rich. I appreciate learning about the talk in the office. It’s never pleasant to be the one they’re discussing.”

  “Don’t I know it? I’ve happened to overhear some tales about me that have curled my hair. If I’d bedded half the women I’m given credit for, I’d be listed in Ripley’s Believe It or Not.”

  She smiled, gathered up her trash and stood. “I need to get back to the office. Thanks for buying me lunch.”

  He stood and looked at her, his expression sad. “It was my pleasure, Rachel. I wish there was more I could do for you.”

  By the time they returned to the office Rich and Rachel were laughing about a remark they’d heard in the elevator. She gave him a wave and went back to work.

  Rachel decided to surprise Brad by having their dinner ready when he came home. Since they generally arrived at the same time, she hadn’t had the opportunity before today. She wasn’t sure when he’d get home. He’d called when he left East Texas but said he’d be arriving in the midst of rush-hour traffic and she should expect him whenever he walked through the door. He’d sounded lighthearted, which thrilled her, and he’d made it clear he missed her as much as she missed him.

  She hummed as she worked in the kitchen, pleased with how their relationship was progressing. She could see Brad dropping his guard more with each passing day. Not that she didn’t understand why he’d protected himself for so many years. There hadn’t been that many people in his life to trust. If Casey Bishop hadn’t pulled him off the streets, Brad would probably be in jail by now. Or at least have a long record.

  Instead he’d made a success of himself and his company. He’d learned what was expected of him in social situations, how to dress and how to hide his impatience…at least most of the time.

  She heard the garage door open as she placed the large salad in the refrigerator. Dinner was in the warmer oven. His timing was perfect.

  Rachel closed the refrigerator door and turned as he pushed open the swinging door. When he saw her he tossed his briefcase aside and in three long strides was beside her.

  “Welcome ho— Brad! What are you doing!” she squealed, when it was obvious what he was doing. He’d picked her up and continued through the house until he reached their bedroom. The doors were open and he didn’t pause until they were on the bed, pulling at each other’s clothing, laughing breathlessly and coming together in a burst of impatient desire. All she could do was to hang on. Even after they’d reached their explosive climax, he continued to hold her and kiss her, running his hands over her as though to make certain everything about her was still in place.

  Some time later she said, “I have dinner ready. Are you hungry?”

  He laughed and sat up. “Starved, but I guess I’ll go eat first.”

  They found robes and returned to the kitchen. While she set the food on the table, he told her what he had seen and done that day. She gave him a rundown of some of the problems that she’d handled and they were soon discussing company matters.

  Later, after they had showered and were preparing for bed, she said, “Brad, I know I said we didn’t need to tell anyone about our marriage right away, but it’s been three weeks. Do you think we should make some kind of an announcement to the staff?”

  He stretched out on the bed and pulled her to him so that her head lay on his shoulder and her leg draped across his thighs. “I’ve been thinking about that,” he replied, idly playing with her hair. “The thing is, I feel you were cheated out of a real wedding. I was wondering if we shouldn’t do it right—maybe have a church wedding if you’d like, invite your family and our employees and anyone else you can think of.”

  She lifted her head and looked at him in surprise. Never in a million years would she have expected such a suggestion from the man who had hired her eight years ago. However, she’d witnessed the changes in him and hoped they were because of her. She’d never said anything to make him uncomfortable about their arrangement. He’d been extremely careful to use protection whenever they made love, which she took to mean he didn’t want children.

  She could understand that as well. In time maybe he would feel more comfortable with the idea of bringing children he knew would be treasured and loved into the world. She’d already discovered that he had a wealth of love to give, even if he wasn’t aware of it as yet. She wouldn’t push him on the subject any more than she ever mentioned that she loved him. He’d m
ade his feelings for her obvious. She didn’t need the words, but there were times, when he was at his most adorable, that she had to bite them back.

  “Hey? Did my suggestion thrill you so much you’ve gone to sleep?”

  She kissed his chest, enjoying the sudden chill bumps that immediately spread across him. “I think your idea has considerable merit, Mr. Phillips. When were you thinking about doing this?”

  He rolled to his side and pulled her flush against him, making it clear that he wasn’t too interested in much more conversation. He slid his hand between her thighs and started teasing her. “Um. Guess it depends on where we decide to have it. Maybe by the end of the year. I want to take you around and show you off to everyone I know.”

  “I thought I knew most of those people already,” she teased, catching her breath when he made a particularly audacious move.

  “Probably, but not as my wife. There’s some kind of an awards dinner around the first of December. I want you on my arm with your correct title. Think we can plan something by then?”

  She groaned, unable to concentrate on his words when he was evoking such a tidal wave of feeling through her body. “I’ll get on it first thing in the morning, boss man.”

  His last coherent words sounded like, “You do that, pretty lady.”

  Chapter Ten

  The next few days seemed to speed up as Rachel kept up with her own work, attended meetings with Brad and set about the serious undertaking of planning a wedding.

  Brad had spent most of the last four days away from the office. He hadn’t flown anywhere, but he’d spent the week inspecting sites, meeting with clients and obtaining information necessary to bid on other projects. However, today was Friday and he’d scheduled all of his appointments in the office. He’d informed her that morning not to plan to get out of bed for the next two days. She’d looked him up and down and asked, “You think you’re up to it?”

  He’d insisted on giving her a sample of his staying power before they left for work.

  Rachel had never been so happy. Her relief that their arrangement seemed to free Brad from his past couldn’t be overstated. Unfortunately she didn’t have a close friend with whom she could share her good news. She’d often been accused of being married to her job, which wasn’t far off the mark.

  She toyed with the idea of updating her sister on their plans but decided to wait until they’d actually chosen a date to alert her that she was going to be a maid of honor.

  Rachel glanced at her watch. Brad had several meetings scheduled. He’d told her when he left for the conference room at nine that he hoped to return in time to take her to lunch. He was already later than he’d intended, but that didn’t surprise her. Brad hated long, drawn-out meetings but there were times when they couldn’t be helped.

  When the phone rang a half hour later, she answered with a smile, knowing it was Brad, probably in a foul mood.

  “Rachel Wood,” she said.

  “The intercom isn’t working,” Janelle said. “So I had to phone you.”

  “No problem. What do you need?”

  “I have a message from Brad.”

  “Oh?”

  “He rang through, told me about the intercom and asked me to call a repairman, then to let you know that something had come up and he couldn’t make it to your luncheon appointment.”

  Disappointed, Rachel said, “Thank you for letting me know.”

  “Would you like me to bring you something from the deli?”

  “Sounds great. My usual, please.”

  Rachel hung up and stared at the phone. His meeting must have put him in a bad mood if he hadn’t wanted to take the time to call her directly. She hoped he’d be in a better frame of mind by the time they left the office that evening.

  After lunch Rachel lost track of time until Janelle tapped on the door and said, “I’m leaving now. Do you want to lock up when you go?”

  When she glanced at her watch, Rachel was surprised to see that it was almost six o’clock. “Sure.” She stretched, suddenly aware of how long she’d been absorbed in her work. “When did Brad get back?”

  Janelle shook her head and said, “He didn’t come back.”

  Rachel fought to hide her concern. “Oh, it doesn’t matter. I can show him these figures on Monday.”

  Janelle gave a small wave and closed the door. As soon as she heard the outer door close Rachel jumped up and hurried to the connecting door between her office and his.

  His light was off. His office looked the same as it had when she’d checked it shortly after lunch. How odd. Brad had always kept her informed of his schedule and whereabouts since their early days, when she had been the office staff. She tried to think of a reason why she hadn’t heard from him, but nothing came to mind. He carried his cell phone with him. She saw no reason why he couldn’t have called.

  She picked up his phone and dialed his cell phone number. After a few rings, his recorded voice asked the caller to leave a number and/or message. She hung up without saying anything.

  Rachel had never known Brad not to answer his phone. He was too conscientious. Now she was beginning to worry.

  Rachel returned to her office and put her files away in the filing cabinet. She picked up her purse and left the room, turning the light off as she went.

  Once outside Janelle’s office, she locked the door and continued down the hallway. Everyone usually left at five, so she wasn’t surprised to find herself alone.

  She met the cleaning crew in the hallway outside the company’s doors. They waited for her to move out of the way and rolled their cart inside. She got into the elevator and out of habit pushed the button for the parking level. It was only after she stepped out of the elevator and saw that Brad’s space was empty that she faced the fact he’d left her to find a ride home without the courtesy of warning her.

  Rachel didn’t know if she was more worried that something had happened to him or irritated that he could have left her stranded. Whatever had taken him away had better be of earthshaking significance, she thought.

  She returned to the elevator and rode to the lobby. The security guard was already on duty.

  “Evenin’, Ms. Wood,” he said with a smile.

  “Hi, Sam.” She looked out front to see if Brad might be waiting at the curb, but there was no sign of him. “Would you mind getting me a cab, please?”

  “Sure thing.” Sam picked up the phone behind his station and within minutes said, “It’s on the way.”

  The longer she waited, the edgier she got. Maybe the honeymoon was over as far as Brad was concerned. Of course they hadn’t actually had such a thing, but for whatever his reason, Mr. Phillips appeared to have forgotten he had a wife. This was so unlike him that she was stumped for a rational reason for his behavior.

  The cab pulled up out front and she walked out of the building and climbed inside. She gave the driver Brad’s address, sat back and tried not to be impatient with the heavy traffic.

  Maybe the phones had been more messed up than she’d thought. Maybe he’d attempted to call and couldn’t get through. Once she was home she’d probably find a message waiting for her. She comforted herself with that thought.

  Eventually they turned onto the quiet street where she now lived. “It’s the fourth house on the left,” she said. “You can let me out in front of the gate.”

  Once she’d paid the driver, Rachel turned and walked to the keypad near the gate and punched in numbers. As soon as the gate opened, she stepped through and walked briskly toward the house.

  Foliage screened the house from the road, a privacy feature she’d appreciated without thinking about the length of the curving driveway. Once she rounded the last curve Rachel saw Brad’s car parked in front of the house.

  Something was terribly wrong. What could have happened that he would come home instead of returning to the office? Alarm flashed through her and she ran the rest of the way, arriving breathless at the front door. Of course it was locked. She fished
in her purse for her keys and shakily stabbed the right one into the lock. As soon as she managed to get the stubborn lock to turn, she rushed into the foyer, closing the door behind her.

  “Brad?” she called.

  There was no answer.

  Maybe he was in the back garden…or he could be asleep. Maybe taking a bath. She didn’t know where to go first. Forcing herself to take long steadying breaths, Rachel turned toward the bedroom wing. On her way there she happened to glance into the room off the foyer that Brad had turned into his office/den. She stopped, a chill running through her. From here she could see the top of his head over the back of his executive chair. He faced the garden.

  “Brad?” she asked softly. “Are you okay?”

  He didn’t respond. Maybe he was asleep. She walked in quietly and circled the desk in order to see his face. She saw his profile before he slowly turned his head and looked at her.

  She flinched at the look of hatred in his eyes. Hatred directed at her. She shivered. She had never seen that expression on Brad’s face since she’d known him.

  What had happened to cause him to look at her with such revulsion and disdain?

  Brad lazily pushed the chair so that it swung back to his desk. Only then did she register the open bottle of bourbon sitting there. He held a glass in his hand. Without taking his cold gaze from her he turned up the glass and drained the remaining liquid in it. He finally looked away toward the bottle and reached for it.

  The sudden chill that had swept over her when she first saw him continued to spread, causing her to tremble. The bottom of her world had crashed with a resounding bang and she had no idea why.

  She returned to the front of his desk and sank into a chair. “Brad! What’s happened? What’s wrong? Did you get bad news?”

  He concentrated on pouring bourbon into his glass. Shock turned her body to ice when she recognized that this wasn’t his first drink of the day.