by Grace Green
‘Damian and I,’ Janey went on, glancing across at Stephanie, ‘have discovered we have exactly the same taste in movies. He has seen Four Weddings and a Funeral even more times than I have—’
‘And another thing!’ McAllister waved his fork to emphasize his words—in a decidedly unmannerly fashion, Stephanie decided sourly. ‘Janey and I have discovered that we both listen to the same group on our headphones...The Proclaimers...when we’re jogging.’
‘And get this, Steph!’ Janey’s eyes fairly sparkled. ‘Damian and I have actually been going to the same bookstore for years and we both adore the Mystery section—’
‘And Janey’s favorite writer is P.D. James—’
‘Damian’s is, too!’ Janey finished triumphantly. ‘Isn’t it just too much?’
The mousse in Stephanie’s mouth tasted like mud. Good grief, Janey, she wanted to scream, these are all my favorite things—I was the one who dragged you to that movie so you could see Hugh Grant. I was the one who introduced you to The Proclaimers’ music. I was the one who gave you your first P.D. James novel! If anyone can claim to share those interests with McAllister, I’m that one!
‘Fascinating.’ She swallowed the mouthful of mud. ‘Oh, by the way, I noticed Hugh Grant’s latest movie is premiering at the plaza on Friday night—since you’re both such fans, why don’t you take it in together?’
If she’d thought to put McAllister on the spot, she was mistaken. He took her up on the suggestion immediately.
‘Friday night?’ He glanced down at Janey, his gaze keen. ‘Can you make it?’
‘Sure I can—’
‘Don’t you have a standing date to go out with Fred on Friday nights?’ The words were out before Stephanie could stop them.
‘Pfft, Fred!’ Janey gave an airy wave of her hand. ‘He’s history. So, Damian...the early show?’
‘What the heck.’ McAllister grinned. ‘Let’s go out for dinner first and go to the late show. I’ll take you to a terrific pizza place. Steph and I ate there tonight, and she can recommend it...right, Steph?’
For a minute, Stephanie could do nothing but stare. It had all happened so fast—
‘Steph?’ Janey’s voice seemed to be coming from far away.
‘Mmm?’ Stephanie came to her senses. ‘Oh, the pizza place. Sure, I can recommend it.’ She tried to move her mouth in a smile, but her lips were bound and determined not to cooperate. In the end, she did somehow manage to quirk the edges up, but only ever so slightly, ever so briefly. She should have been happy for Janey, that she was going out on a date with this very gorgeous man. She wasn’t. She felt depressed. Even miserable. But why should that be? It wasn’t as if she wanted McAllister for herself—good Lord, not only was the man a confirmed bachelor, but he didn’t even celebrate Christmas!
Perhaps, she reflected, what rankled was that he hadn’t had the good manners to include her in the invitation.
Not that she would have accepted. No, certainly not. But for all his faults—and they were legion!—she had never known him to be guilty of bad manners.
This inconsistency in his behavior puzzled her.
Puzzled her deeply.
When McAllister left, Janey was bubbling with excitement, and eager to talk about her upcoming date. But Stephanie—albeit feeling as low as the lowest worm as she did—pleaded a headache and went straight to bed.
In the morning, Janey had already left for work by the time Stephanie got up.
The redhead had been running the Rubber Ducky Day Care for the past five years, and the center opened at seven every weekday. This morning, Stephanie was glad Janey wasn’t around. Guiltily glad. She still hadn’t gotten used to the idea of her friend and McAllister going out together...and yet she refused to let her mind come to grips with why she should find the situation so unsettling.
On Friday, when Stephanie got home from work, Janey was already dressed to go out. She was standing at the fake fireplace in the living room, admiring her reflection in the mirror above the mantelpiece. At Stephanie’s bright, ‘Hi, I’m home!’ she turned, a beaming smile on her face.
‘Steph, I’ve been waiting for you!’ She spun around gaily to show off her outfit. ‘What do you think? I went shopping in my lunch hour, and I just couldn’t resist!’
‘You look stunning,’ Stephanie said—and meant it. The clinging terra cotta sweater and matching stretch pants showed off Janey’s curvy little figure to perfection. ‘New boots, too?’ She nodded toward the elegant cream boots into which Janey had tucked the pants.
‘The works! But hey—’ Janey’s eyes sparkled ‘—it’s an investment, right?’ She threw her hand up in the air and spun around again several times. ‘Who knows where this night might lead!’ Breathlessly she collapsed into her overstuffed armchair. ‘It could be the start of something big! So—’ she grinned up at Stephanie ‘—what are you up to tonight?’
‘Tony’s back.’ Her voice sounded flat; she tried to put a lilt in it as she went on, ‘We’re meeting for dinner.’
‘Great!’ Janey jumped to her feet ‘Oh, and I’ve splurged on something else! A bottle of Wild Ecstasy—guaranteed to turn a man into a sex slave in three minutes flat. On my salary I can’t really afford it, but what the heck, carpe diem and all that. Oh, Lord...I forgot to put on my earrings...and Damian’s on his way up...it’s a wonder you didn’t bump into him in the lobby. Get the door when he knocks?’ she called over her shoulder.
Feeling punch-drunk, Stephanie threw her purse down onto the sofa. Janey had spent her day with dozens of rambunctious preschoolers; where did she get her energy from? Her own day at the store hadn’t been overly busy, yet she felt as drained as an empty bathtub.
Though it was expected, the brisk rat-tatat on the door made her jump. She exhaled a frustrated breath and stalked to the door, where she peeked through the peephole to check that the person out there was indeed Janey’s date...and was glad she had. The secret inspection gave her a moment to catch her breath before facing him, because the sight of McAllister in a black leather jacket and a black turtleneck sweater had made her throat threaten to close.
Furious with herself, she snatched the door open.
‘Come in.’ Her tone was frosty.
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Having a bad hair day?’
She slammed the door and flounced past him into the living room. ‘Sit down,’ she snapped, waving toward the sofa. ‘Janey’s almost ready. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve just got in from work and—’
‘Hang on a sec.’
Scowling, she turned around. ‘What?’
‘I never did thank you for the teddy bear.’ He raked back his rain-damp hair in an absent gesture. ‘I found it that night, when I got back from Rockfield. Why did you—’
‘It was just an impulse.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘One you now regret?’
‘I can’t answer that, can I...because I don’t know if the gift was welcome. For all I know, you may have a cupboardful of bears already, saved from your childhood.’
His eyelids flickered. ‘No,’ he said, ‘I have kept nothing that reminds me of my childhood.’
An odd tension had quivered into place between them, one she hadn’t felt before. Why? she wanted to ask. Why have you kept nothing? Most people kept at least one or two mementos from their younger years. But she sensed that if she asked the question, his expression would become shuttered, and she would get no answer. So instead, she said, ‘If you don’t want it, feel free to give it away to—’
‘My pillow smelled of your perfume. When I woke up the next morning, before I opened my eyes, while I was still drowsy, I thought you must be lying beside me.’
Stephanie felt as if he’d pulled the rug from right under her feet. She put a hand on the back of the chair beside her, to steady herself. An image of herself, and this man, lying in his bed, rocked something inside her in a way she’d never experienced before. ‘Why are you talking like this to me?’ The words came out huskily.
>
He walked over to her. She knew she should step back, but she was powerless to move.
‘Have you any idea how it felt, when I realized I was still dreaming?’ There was anger in his tone, as there was in his eyes. He grasped her shoulders, pulled her toward him, their faces so close she could feel the warmth of his minty-fresh breath on her lips. ‘And when I remembered that you were already spoken for?’
She wrenched herself free, her face pale. ‘What you ought to be remembering is that you’re here to pick up Janey, not me.’ Her voice was as wobbly as her legs. ‘You’re some kind of a jerk, McAllister, making a hit on your date’s flatmate. I just hope Janey knows what she’s getting into.’
She fled from the room, misery welling inside her. She’d reached her own bedroom and had just hurried inside when she heard her friend call from the hallway.
‘See you later, Steph!’
‘Later,’ she echoed faintly, and shut the door fast behind her.
She leaned back against the wooden panels, her breathing low and ragged. She heard Janey laugh, heard McAllister’s low voice, heard them laugh together.
And then they were gone.
‘Darling.’ Tony’s eyes were serious as they met Stephanie’s over the restaurant table. ‘I missed you terribly. And it brought home to me how screwed up my priorities had become. From now on, we’ll be spending much more time together.’
Stephanie struggled to control her escalating panic. They’d finished dinner, and she hadn’t yet found the right moment to tell Tony the wedding was off.
‘I’m pleased,’ he said, ‘that you and McAllister have had a couple of meetings already. From what you’ve told me, the two of you have covered quite a bit of ground.’
‘Yes.’
‘You find him compatible?’
‘Oh... sure. We had our second meeting over a pizza, and he drove me home afterward. Actually—’ she forced a light laugh ‘—he and Janey met and hit it off—they’ve gone out on a date this evening. Dinner and the movies.’
Tony’s expression was doubtful. ‘I shouldn’t have thought her his style—your friend’s very different from McAllister’s late wife. Ashley Cabot was a thoroughbred—all nerves and fire...one very classy lady indeed. I hope Janey won’t get stars in her eyes and let them blind her. The man is not in the marriage market.’
The marriage market. What a perfect opening. Tony, she would say, I’d like to talk to you about that. Marriage, that is. Our marriage. She braced herself, feeling suddenly calm and ready, and waited for him to finish what he was saying.
‘...and a confirmed bachelor. He takes women out but makes it clear from the beginning that he’s not interested in settling down. A prime example is Tiff Whitney—’
‘Tony Gould, are you taking my name in vain?’
Stephanie snapped up her head as she heard the husky voice, and felt a stab of frustration when she saw Tiffany Whitney, exquisite in bias-cut satin, looking down at them.
The blonde’s timing couldn’t have been worse.
‘Tiff!’ Tony got to his feet.
‘Yes, sweetie, no other. Hi, Stephanie.’ Without waiting for a response, the blonde addressed Tony again.
‘I haven’t seen you for ages.’ She pouted. ‘Where did you disappear to over Christmas?’
Tony looked strangely agitated. ‘I, er, drove up to Vermont and spent the holidays with Steph and her parents.’
‘That must have been nice for you,’ Tiffany said to Stephanie. ‘If it hadn’t been for the fire, you’d have been up in Vermont all by yourself—’
‘Tiff,’ Tony broke in urgently, ‘I’ve been out of town, and Steph and I have quite a bit to discuss tonight, about our new house, so if you don’t mind...’
But Tiffany was in no hurry to move on. ‘Damian’s your architect, isn’t he?’ she said to him. ‘Great choice. We’ve hired him, too, to design our new lodge at Aspen.’
‘You’re building a second lodge?’ Stephanie said politely.
‘To replace the one that burned down just before Christmas.’ Tiffany’s tone held a hint of impatience. ‘Lord, that could have been such a tragedy if the fire had happened a couple of days later! As you know, we’d invited twelve guests for the week—and—’ she turned to Tony ‘—I heard you’d actually gotten as far as the airport before Mom managed to contact you and tell you the ski party was off.’
Stephanie stared at Tony through eyes that were stark with disbelief. “The lodge burned down?‘ Her voice shook. ”The party was canceled? But you said—’
‘Steph.’ Tony stood up abruptly. ‘Calm down, darling.’ He pulled her to her feet. ‘Tiff, this has come as a shock to Steph...I didn’t tell her about the fire, knowing how upset she’d be and that she’d react in exactly this way. Would you please excuse us? I’m going to take her home.’
Tony’s fingers bit into her arms as if they were steel claws, but Stephanie was barely aware of them. He wanted to get her out of there before she made a scene. She was not about to make a scene. In order to make a scene, one had to care. She felt nothing at all. Only a cold, dead emptiness.
And the bitter realization that breaking her engagement was now going to be the easiest thing in the world.
CHAPTER EIGHT
STEPHANIE had just opened the store on Monday morning when the phone rang. Joyce picked it up.
‘If it’s for me,’ Stephanie whispered quickly, ‘just take a message.’
Joyce nodded. ‘Warmest Fuzzies,’ she said into the mouthpiece. ‘Joyce speaking.’ She paused for a moment, and then said, ‘She can’t come to the phone right now, Mr. McAllister. May I take a message? Right, I’ll tell her.’
She put down the phone. ‘He wants you to call and set up an appointment—for early in the week, if possible.’
‘Thanks.’ The doorbell pinged and an elderly woman came in. ‘Will you take care of the customer, Joyce? I’ll go through and put on the coffee.’
What was she going to do about McAllister? she wondered as she poured water into the coffeemaker. Wasn’t it up to Tony to contact him, and inform him she would no longer be involved in the planning of the house? Tony would, of course, continue with his scheme to build; it had always been his project, not hers. The fact that she would not be moving into the finished house with him was his own fault.
She shuddered as she remembered the ugly scene that had taken place outside her apartment building when she’d told him she wasn’t going to marry him—’
‘Stephanie?’ Joyce’s voice came from the doorway. ‘Whatever’s wrong?’
‘Oh—’ Stephanie grimaced ‘—nothing. Well, not quite nothing.’ She spread out her ringless left hand, and when Joyce stared, uncomprehendingly, she told her about the broken engagement
She’d already told Janey. And she’d phoned her parents, who had taken the news surprisingly well. And when she’d talked with Jason later, he’d whispered that her mom was actually pleased, because though she’d liked Tony well enough, she’d felt in her heart that he wasn’t the right man for Steph—which had made Stephanie feel a whole lot better.
Joyce cluck-clucked a bit and gave Stephanie a warm hug, and after murmuring something about ‘hundreds of better fish on the beach,’ she took herself off to the toilet.
Stephanie went through to the front, to find the shop deserted. She picked up the phone, and dialed the M.A.G.
She had expected a secretary to answer; to her dismay, she heard a familiar voice say, ‘McAllister.’
‘It’s Stephanie Redford.’ Her fingers were suddenly slick around the receiver. ‘I got your message. Look, I won’t be seeing you this week—you should talk to Tony about—’
‘Can’t you take an hour or two off? Are you so busy—’
‘Yes...I mean, no.’ Lord, this was difficult. ‘Call Tony. He’s back now, and he’ll explain. I won’t be taking any part in the discussions from now on. You’ll be dealing only with Tony—’
‘Is this because I took Janey out? For
God’s sake, I didn’t think you had it in you to be so petty! Besides, as I recall, you were the one to suggest I take her to the movies. At any rate, I don’t have time to play games. If you and your fiancé want your house to be ready for September, you’re going to have to move some!’
‘I said, call Tony.’ Stephanie’s voice was cold. ‘From now on, all your consultations will be with him. I shall have no part in it because—’
‘Because you’re annoyed with me. Listen, you can’t let your emotions get in the way in the business world.’ His tone had become as cold as her own. ‘So you were jealous because I took your friend out—tough beans! Just don’t let your feelings of spite screw up our working relationship—’
‘Phone Tony,’ she said steadily.
‘To hell with that! You’re in no hurry to get the house finished? Fine. I have other clients—clients who, thank God, appreciate the fact that time is money. Call me once you’ve gotten over your little tantrum.’
‘I—’
‘Call me when you’re ready to act like an adult. Till then, don’t bother me!’ And he slammed down the phone.
Stephanie didn’t, of course, call him...and she had no way of knowing in the next few weeks whether or not Tony had contacted him.
With a determined effort, she blotted out all thoughts of both men, which wasn’t too difficult at work, as she was kept busy, but in the evenings it was harder.
Janey never mentioned McAllister, and Stephanie had no idea if the two were dating...and would have bitten off her tongue rather than ask. Janey did seem to be going out more often than usual, though, and one Saturday, when she came floating in around midnight with a dreamy look in her eyes, Stephanie clicked off the TV show she’d been watching, and asked the question she’d sworn would never pass her lips.
‘Are you seeing Damian McAllister?’
Janey’s dreamy look faded. She took off her jacket, and dropped it onto a chair. Crossing to the fireplace, she stood with her back to it, and fixed her gaze on her friend.