by Janet Dailey
With the abandonment of a young person, she flung open the front door. Instantly the smile of greeting died as a shaft of cold fear rooted her to the ground. Her hand continued to clutch the doorknob. On the threshold stood Brodie Hayes with his black hair and cool blue eyes.
"Is Jordanna home?"
To Jessica, it seemed more like a demand than a question. Fear had a stranglehold on her vocal cords and she wasn't able to utter a sound. Brodie Hayes took her silence and the fact that the door was opened so wide as permission to enter.
Her heart was pounding so hard, she thought it would explode as he stepped into the foyer. She watched his gaze make a sweeping arc of the interior of the house. She wanted to run, but as if she were in a nightmare, her legs were paralyzed.
"Who was at the door, sis?" Jordanna's voice called from another room.
Jessica wanted to scream a warning, but not a sound came from her throat. She heard her sister walking toward the entryway and noted the way Brodie had turned to face the sound. Inside, she was crying for being so frightened. She could have told him Jordanna wasn't home if only she hadn't been so terrified.
It was too late when the footsteps stopped and Brodie said, "Hello, Jordanna." And Jessica noticed that his eyes didn't mirror the smile parting his mouth.
There were more footsteps. Jessica nearly jumped out of her skin when her sister's hand touched her shoulder, and she looked up into the nervous smile of her sister. Her cloudy green eyes were rounded in apology and Jordanna's hand tightened in reassurance.
"You'd better go up to your room and change out of that wet swimsuit." Her sister provided her with an excuse to escape.
The touch of Jordanna's hand broke the grip of paralysis. Jessica raced up the stairs two at a time, but she went no farther than the top. There she huddled against the wall to listen, shaking like a leaf.
"I happened to be in the neighborhood," Jessica heard Brodie say, "and thought I'd drop by to see if you'd like to go for a ride. It's a beautiful afternoon."
"I'm sorry you made another wasted trip. I can't go with you," Jordanna refused, then hurried an explanation. "There wouldn't be anyone here to stay with my little sister. I couldn't leave her alone."
Hiding at the top of the stairs, Jessica cringed. She didn't think her sister should tell him they were alone. What if he decided to rob them?
"How old is your sister?" Brodie Hayes asked. "Nine? Ten?"
"She's eleven."
"Then she's old enough to stay by herself. Nobody's hung around to look after me since I was eight."
"That doesn't matter," Jordanna insisted. "We don't do that. Besides, Jessica is a girl, so it's different."
"Then you won't change your mind and come for a ride with me?" He sounded as if he expected a negative answer.
"I can't. I've already explained that I have to stay here."
"In that case, I'll stay and keep you company."
At his statement, Jessica breathed in sharply. Alarm trembled through her, bones knocking together so loudly that she was sure they could hear her in the foyer below.
"I'm sorry, but I'll have to ask you to leave, Brodie. Our parents don't allow us to have friends in unless one of theme is here, as well," Jordanna explained, quite bravely, Jessica thought.
"Do you always do what your parents tell you?" He seemed to be mocking Jordanna's strict adherence to her parents' wishes.
"My parents don't make unreasonable requests." Jordanna didn't say any more in defense of her parents or her stand.
"If I come back later this afternoon, when your mother or father are home, would you come out with me then?"
Jessica held her breath, knowing her sister was going to refuse, yet wondering what excuse she could make for not going with him.
Jordanna's answer, when it came, was straightforward, her voice slightly breathy. "No."
"Why?" Despite the quiet, even pitch of his voice, it contained the threatening ring of challenge. Upstairs, Jessica quivered as an eternity of seconds ticked away in silence. "Are you afraid of being seen with me?" His voice was so controlled, so lacking in emotion that it sent chills down Jessica's spine and she was able to imagine how her sister felt. "Or are you just afraid of me?"
"It's nothing like that, Brodie," Jordanna hastened to assure him.
"If it isn't where I live or what you think I am, would you mind telling me why you keep turning me down?" A thread of cynicism had been sown through his voice, skeptical and taunting.
"Because—" Jordanna paused for a fraction of a second before completing her answer "—I'm not interested in seeing you. There's someone else…that I like."
"Radford," Brodie Hayes concluded. "Your parents would approve of him. But they would never welcome me into their home, would they?"
"I wouldn't know." Her sister's voice contained a faintly haughty air. "The question has never arisen."
"Probably because everyone knows the answer."
"That isn't fair," Jordanna protested.
"Fair?" Brodie Hayes repeated in a laughing sound. "At least I know where I stand with you…and why," he added in a voice that indicated he'd drawn his own conclusion. "Would you like to know where you stand with me?"
That apprehensive note made Jessica peep around the wall. Her eyes rounded in fear when she saw her sister flattened against the wall, Brodie's arms on either side, caging her there. Afraid of what he might be planning to do to Jordanna, she rose to clutch the banister. He leaned intimidatingly close, all but blocking her sister from Jessica's view.
"Brodie, please—" he had made a harsh mockery out of her words. "Please, what? Please, get lost?" Jordanna made no response, holding her ground and meeting his look. "Okay, if that's what you want." He pushed away from the wall. "I guess I just stepped out of my class, didn't I?" Jordanna opened her mouth to say something. "Don't bother, I can show myself out. Unless you would prefer that I leave by the back door."
"No, I—"
But Brodie didn't give her sister a chance to complete the sentence, turning and walking to the front door with swift yet unhurried strides.
When the door closed, Jessica sped down the stairs, racing toward her sister. "Are you all right, Jordanna? I was so scared!"
"Jessica!" Her sister caught her by the shoulders and looked at her in surprise. "I thought you were in your room."
"I waited at the top of the stairs," she admitted. "I didn't think you'd be able to send him away. I thought he might hurt you."
"You have much too vivid an imagination," Jordanna sighed.
"I saw him," Jessica protested. "He'd backed you up to the wall. I just know he was going to do something."
"He was just trying to scare me a little because I hurt his pride by refusing to go out with him. But he didn't do anything, Jessica. You see, I'm all right." Jordanna smiled brightly, "Now go on upstairs and change out of your swimsuit. Mom would have fits if she caught you around the house in that wet thing."
Jessica obeyed, but she wasn't convinced that her fears for her older sister had been groundless. She had never forgotten the scene nor the sense of peril she had experienced licking through her veins.
Three weeks later she had seen Brodie Hayes for the third time, and the last time until today. As before, the doorbell had rung and Jessica had raced to answer it. Part of it was almost a replay of the previous time. She had stopped short at the sight of Brodie Hayes.
"Is your sister home?" he asked.
Robbed of speech by the memory of the other scene, Jessica shook her head. Jordanna had gone out with some friends for the afternoon.
"Do you know when she'll be back?"
Again her head moved swiftly from side to side. If she had known, she would never have told him. As it was, she didn't have to lie.
"Would you give her a message?"
This time her head bobbed in agreement.
His mouth quirked at the action. "Can't you talk, kid?"
The taunt stung Jessica into speech. "I can talk."
"So
that's your problem, a mouthful of metal." As soon as he spoke, Jessica pressed her lips tightly together to hide the braces he had seen, "Tell Jordanna that I stopped to tell her goodbye. I'm leaving town." Jessica nodded and Brodie Hayes started to turn away. Then he hesitated, his piercing blue eyes glancing back at her. "And tell her when I do come back, I won't be out of her class."
He walked away. Jessica couldn't remember his name ever being mentioned after that, not coupled with success or failure.
His statement on that long-ago yesterday echoed clearly in her mind. On the surface, he seemed to have succeeded. That proud chip on his shoulder hadn't been in evidence, unless it had been hidden by the superb cut of his suit. But why had he come back? After all this time, what had he hoped to find? Jessica shook her head, not finding any logical answer.
It was nothing to her. He was nothing to her, except part of an incident in her childhood, one that had probably been dramatized out of proportion by her imaginative age. It was only by sheer chance she had seen him again. The odds didn't favor a repeat, so she attempted to push all the memories, past and present, to the back of her mind.
As the rest of the afternoon progressed, it became easier. The Atkins account demanded her attention; conferring with the artists and admen in the larger office to come up with a more palatable campaign.
It was after five before she finally left the office for her apartment. It was a spacious, two-bedroom affair, much larger than she really needed. The spare bedroom had been used often by her family, since they were all known to drop in without warning for a visit. Justin had stayed with her while on a business trip as recently as a month ago.
Entering the apartment, Jessica deposited her bag and the mail on the coffee table in the living room and opened the gold-flowered drapes concealing the sliding glass doors to a small balcony. In a pattern that had become routine, she continued to her bedroom. There she changed out of the vested camel tan skirt and blouse into a pair of becoming mint-green slacks with a matching silk blouse in a blue and green design.
On her way back to the living room she stopped in the kitchen for a glass of chocolate milk, then continued to the gold sofa to read the day's mail. It was her time of the day to relax and unwind from the pressures of the office.
In the mail, there was a letter from her mother filled with news of her grandchildren—Jessica's niece and nephew. Normally Jessica would have read the letter through at least twice, but this night she put it aside after one reading and picked up a women's magazine, choosing to immerse herself in an excerpt from a best-selling novel instead.
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Chapter Three
AS ENGROSSING as the story had turned out to be, Jessica found it impossible to ignore the empty rumblings of her stomach. She turned the corner of the page and set the magazine aside. Paying no attention to the chiming of the clock, she walked into the kitchen. A plate of cold chicken and a macaroni salad were in the refrigerator. She set them on the breakfast bar and walked to the cutlery drawer of the kitchen cabinets.
The buzzer at the door to her apartment interrupted her, and she frowned and searched her mind for who it might be. The No Soliciting sign usually kept the door-to-door salesmen at bay. Her friends generally telephoned before coming over. Shrugging that guessing served no purpose, Jessica entered the living room and crossed to the door.
Opening it, She was carried back to that long-ago yesterday, and her hand froze on the doorknob. Shock struck the words from her throat. She could only stare at Brodie Hayes.
A half smile touched his hard mouth, but he seemed oblivious to her surprise. The clear blue of his eyes and the jet black of his hair was intensified by the sweater he wore, the pale color of smoke, and charcoal gray slacks. Hard and smooth as a diamond, he was a compelling figure, all male, totally at ease.
Leaning a hand against the door jamb, he eyed her somewhat mockingly. "How did you know that I planned for us to have a very informal dinner this evening? Can you read minds, Jessica?"
The shock receded into astonishment. "How did you know where I lived?" she breathed incredulously.
"I called your office and explained to your uncle that we were having dinner together tonight, but that you'd forgotten to give me your new address. He was kind enough to provide me with it." His answer did not hold any underlying tone of mockery, as if he genuinely believed the omission of her address had been an oversight.
"But—" it was too much for Jessica to take in "—how did you know where I worked?"
"Simple deduction." Brodie straightened and stepped over the threshold, forcing her backward into the living room. "I couldn't believe that a Thorne would be left entirely on her own. There had to be some member of the family who would be in frequent contact with you. Luckily for me I remembered your uncle owned an advertising agency."
"Yes, it was lucky, wasn't it?" Jessica was breathing unevenly, not quite sure that he believed what he said. "If you hadn't remembered, we both would be dining alone tonight."
"Something neither of us would have enjoyed, isn't that right?" For all the smoothness of his of response, there was the barest trace of a challenge in his voice.
It was the first indication that perhaps he believed she had not given her address on purpose. But Jessica couldn't be certain. At this point, it would be ill mannered to admit it. It was imperative that she somehow conceal the truth.
Some of her poise had returned, but her pulse had not yet regained its normal rate. Turning away from him, she nervously licked her lips and made up a story in her mind.
"I don't know what possessed me to overlook such a vital thing as my address." She laughed stiffly. "I didn't realize it until I was back in my office, and by then it was too late. And I didn't know where to reach you."
On the last word, she turned to face him, lifting her hands in a gesture that indicated there had been nothing she could do. The half smile remained in place, the blue eyes unblinking and bland.
"You could have checked the hotels. There aren't that many of them in Chattanooga," Brodie pointed out. Dark lashes lowered to screen the blue eyes as he shrugged. "I'd forgotten. A Thorne wouldn't call various hotels searching for a man."
Jessica almost breathed her sigh of relief aloud. "It would have been awkward. But I wasn't even sure if you were staying in a hotel."
"And you didn't check," he said with faint accusation.
"No, I didn't check," Jessica admitted quite freely. "Do you blame me?" she countered. "I barely know you."
"I don't blame you at all. If the roles were reversed, I might feel the same mixture of regret and indifference." He released her gaze and glanced at the walnut-cased mantel clock. "Have you eaten yet?"
Should she lie and claim she had eaten? Jessica toyed with the thought. But she was hungry and the growling of her stomach would tell him she was lying. His sharp gaze was back on her, waiting for an answer.
"As a matter of fact, I was just fixing myself something when the doorbell rang," she admitted. "So I haven't eaten."
"Good, then we'll be able to have dinner together." His eyes briefly noted the blouse and slacks she wore. "There's no need to change. Where we're going, anything else would be out of place. If you're ready to leave, we can go now."
"Give me a couple of minutes to put away the food in the kitchen," she asked as he inclined his head in silent agreement.
Her hands were shaking as she set the chicken and salad back in the refrigerator, and she took a deep breath and tried to calm her rattled senses. She would get through the evening Somehow without letting him see how his company affected her, she vowed to herself.
"Ready?" A dark brow lifted when she reentered the living room.
"Yes." Jessica took her bag from the coffee table and slipped the long strap over her shoulder.
Brodie held the door open for her and waited in the hallway while she locked the dead bolt. Side by side, they walked outdoors. His hand came up to rest on her backbone above her waist.
Its guiding pressure was light, but sufficient for Jessica to be aware of the contact and to be unnerved by it. He directed her to a dark blue Cadillac parked at the curb, unlocked the passenger door for her and helped her in.
When Brodie slid behind the wheel, Jessica ran her hand over the cream velour armrest. "It's a beautiful car," she said to break a silence that, to her, had become uneasy.
A smile twitched at the corners of his hard mouth. "I'll tell the rental agency you said so." He slid the key in the ignition and started the engine.
"It isn't yours, then?" Somehow she hadn't expected that answer.
"Not this one." Which indicated that he owned one. As he turned the car into the street, his gaze skipped to her. "I always dreamed of owning a Cadillac. Most poor kids do. As soon as I could afford it, it was one of the first things I bought, Now it's stored in a garage somewhere." He was incredibly indifferent to the fact.
Jessica stared. She couldn't help it. "You do know where it's stored, don't you?"
"In Louisville, I think." His attention was on the traffic. His reply was so absently given that Jessica had to believe he wasn't certain of its location and wasn't bothered that he didn't know. "That sounded arrogant, didn't it?" Brodie shot her a brief, self-mocking glance. "Since I travel a great deal, it hasn't been practical to have my personal car wherever I am for a very long time. I've taken the fact for granted without realizing how it might sound to someone else."
"How did your travels bring you to Chattanooga after all these years?" Jessica questioned. "You never did mention this noon why you were back."
"It was a combination of circumstances," Brodie said, which told her absolutely nothing. "Mostly it's a sentimental journey to see where it all began." Again she was the cynosure of his blue eyes. "You find that hard to believe, don't you; Jessica?" he said, seemingly with the ability to read her mind. "But it's difficult to know where you are if you've forgotten where you came from."
"So you're taking a trip into the past, so to speak." She thought she understood. At the same time, she was also discovering that Brodie was a complicated man with many facets like a well-cut gem.