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Cabin Fever

Page 17

by Karen Rose Smith


  Brad extended his hand. “And you’re…?”

  “I’m Eric Stanton, Emily’s older brother.” He gave Brad’s hand a perfunctory shake. “She told us you were coming. We received the wine you had the store send us. It’s expensive stuff.”

  “I thought your mother would enjoy a chardonnay.”

  “Mom likes wine that tastes like fruit juice, but she’ll try it because you sent it. Come on in.”

  In a matter of minutes Brad was introduced to Eric’s wife and two daughters, as well as Lizbeth and Elaine. He searched the living room, which was charmingly decorated in rose, peach and green with small porcelain figurines on top of most available surfaces.

  Lizbeth must have noticed him glancing around. “Emily’s in the kitchen. She’s putting the finishing touches on dinner. Come on, I’ll introduce you to Mom.”

  One of Brad’s best traits was mingling and making conversation with strangers. He’d been doing it since he’d earned his MBA and worked on Wall Street making cold calls to potential clients. However, tonight he felt out of his element. Maybe he cared about what these people thought about him. That idea totally unsettled him.

  Lizbeth was a pretty coed with light brown hair and a slim figure shown to its advantage in tight jeans. A good fourteen years older than she was, fatherly thoughts came into Brad’s head—the jeans shouldn’t be so tight, the blouse should button up a little higher, she shouldn’t be wearing so much makeup.

  “Is that for Emily or Mom?” She motioned to the package in his hand.

  “Emily.”

  “I thought you’d say that.” She grinned as they went through the dining room, with its table set in white iron-stone china. “She’s nuts about you, you know.”

  His quick glance made her toss her hair and shrug her shoulders. “Well, she is. And I hope you feel the same way about her. She doesn’t deserve to get hurt again.”

  They stopped outside the closed door to the kitchen. “No, Emily doesn’t deserve to get hurt,” he said evenly. “No one does. But sometimes that’s hard to prevent.”

  “Are you saying you’re not serious about her?” Lizbeth’s eyes were wide.

  “I’m saying I shouldn’t be having this conversation with you. We don’t even know each other.”

  “Well, she told us all about you—what you do and all.”

  “What I do?”

  “Yeah, being a private investigator. She said you tracked down that deed like a hound dog on a trail. She bet there wasn’t anything you couldn’t find. Like I said, she’s nuts over you. But don’t tell her I said that. She’s pretending it’s nothing special that you came to dinner, but she wore her best slacks and favorite blouse. So that’s hogwash.”

  To change the subject, he focused on Lizbeth. “Emily mentioned that you were going to spend another year in college.”

  “I’m changing majors. It’s hard for me to decide exactly what I want to do.”

  “You mean this isn’t it? You still aren’t sure?”

  “I think I’m sure. CPAs make pretty good money, but I imagine it can get a little boring. I figured I’ll try it.”

  Suddenly Lizbeth’s airy attitude really annoyed him—not only that she was poking into his and Emily’s personal lives, but that she was taking advantage of her sister and didn’t even seem to mind it.

  “You do know Emily wants to go to college herself?”

  “Someday.”

  “Not some faraway day. Sometime soon.”

  His tone startled Lizbeth. “Well, I guess. She’s getting older and all.”

  “She wants a worthwhile career just like you do. But she’s put her life on hold and she sacrificed so you and Elaine could get through your schooling before she did. So before you tie her up for another year, maybe you ought to be sure about what you want to do.”

  Lizbeth looked at him as if he’d suggested she become an oceanographer instead of a CPA. Then she became defensive. “Emily’s never said she didn’t want to help me.”

  “Of course she hasn’t. She’s a good sister. She’s reliable and she’s dependable and she loves you. She sincerely wants to help you. But how long should she put herself second or third or fourth?”

  After a few moments, Lizbeth cocked her head. “What happened to you guys in that cabin?”

  Now he was the one who was surprised. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Emily said you didn’t even know each other before you left for Montana. And here the two of you are—she’s swooning because you’re coming to dinner, and you’re…you’re trying to put everything right for her.”

  He did want everything to be right for Emily. And as far as what happened in the cabin…

  “We were put in a basic survival scenario at the cabin. We got to know each other very quickly.”

  “True character comes out in that kind of situation and all?” she jibed.

  “Maybe so. Then we had the opportunity to work on an unusual case. It didn’t seem unusual when it started, but Thunder Canyon is very different from Chicago. I think we both appreciated the differences.”

  “Emily never wanted to camp or go to Montana, but now when she talks about it… She got pictures developed and the scenery is gorgeous. She said she didn’t just look at it, she felt it.”

  “She’s right about that.”

  “You know something?” Lizbeth asked rhetorically. “Eric was all set not to like you, but I think you’re okay.”

  With that declaration she pushed open the swinging door into the kitchen, and Brad followed her inside.

  As soon as Brad stepped into the room and saw Mary Stanton, he knew she was a lady. Taller than Emily, she wore her salt-and-pepper brown hair in a sleek French twist. Her sweater and pants were an impeccable navy blue, in contrast to her daughter’s pale pink.

  When she extended her hand to Brad, she smiled. “Hello, Mr. Vaughn. Thank you for keeping my daughter safe while you were in Montana.”

  He looked for an underlying meaning to her words and found none. “She kept me on my toes.”

  Mrs. Stanton laughed. “I imagine she did. Emily can be quite creative. She’s been telling me about her new promotion. I never thought of my daughter as a private investigator.”

  “She’ll make a good one someday, if that’s what she wants.”

  Mary looked from one of them to the other and capped Lizbeth’s shoulder. “Let’s you and I go see if everything on the table is where it’s supposed to be.”

  “Mom, you had me check it—”

  Nudging her youngest daughter into the dining room, Mary let the swinging door shut behind them.

  “Hi,” Emily greeted him brightly. She’d been tearing lettuce leaves and now she dried her hands on a towel and hung it over the handle on the oven. “I hope my family hasn’t been too…daunting.”

  “Not daunting. Interesting.”

  “That they are. What have you got there? The wine’s great. I told you you didn’t have to bring anything.”

  He handed her the present. “This is for you. Sort of a Montana-wasn’t-what-we-expected and a promotion gift.”

  Just looking at Emily—her silky brown hair, her wide green eyes, her slender figure in the pretty pink outfit—he was aroused and ready for another night in the bedroom. But that was the whole problem. Emily wasn’t a torrid-affair kind of woman. She deserved a hell of a lot more.

  Her fingers trembled slightly as she detached the bow from the gift, and he wondered if he truly affected her the same way she affected him. Taking care with the paper, she only tore it where she had to, then she set it aside on the counter and stared at the box.

  “Oh, my gosh. You didn’t!”

  “I felt responsible for the other one being damaged.”

  “I took it to the camera shop so we could take the film out and salvage it. It was going to be expensive to fix it, so I was just going to wait a while. But this—”

  Taking the lid from the box, she pulled out the camera in its leather case. Unzip
ping the protective pouch, she took out the piece of equipment carefully. “Oh, my gosh. It has everything.”

  “That’s what the man said. So now there’s no excuse for you not to take the very best pictures and submit them to magazines for consideration.”

  “You want me to be a P.I. and a photographer?”

  “I want you to be whatever you want to be.”

  Her gaze met his, then she set the camera on the counter with the wrapping and gave him a hug. Dressed in a polo shirt and khaki slacks tonight, he could feel every one of her curves against him. He could also smell her perfume and breathe in her shampoo. He needed her too damn much. It would have been easy to kiss her. It would have been easy to prolong the hug. But neither would have been the right thing to do.

  Leaning away, he said, “It’s supposed to do as well indoors as outside. You might want to take a few of your family.”

  “More than a few. I bet Eric will want to borrow it for the kids.”

  “And you’ll let him?”

  “Maybe. But I have the feeling I’m going to be protective of this for a while. Thank you so much, Brad. You didn’t have to do this.”

  “I know I didn’t. That’s why I wanted to.”

  “I want to show Mom, and we have to get supper out before it burns. I hope you like meat loaf.”

  He hadn’t had meat loaf since he was a kid and his mother made it for him every Wednesday night. “Meat loaf sounds great.”

  Seated at the dining room table with her family, he realized the meal felt like a Norman Rockwell Thanksgiving. Dinner conversation was lively. The problem was, every time Brad gazed into Emily’s eyes, he couldn’t look away. And it seemed neither could she. They were seated across the table from each other, but that didn’t diminish the magnetic pull he felt toward her.

  Surprised he found it easy to talk to this family, Brad entered some of the conversations. Lizbeth went on about college and the people she knew there, and Elaine recounted colorful anecdotes. Eric was the only one who was particularly quiet. His wife and two children didn’t seem to notice as they ate their meal with gusto, and then the two little girls ran into the living room to watch a DVD. When it was time for dessert, Emily disappeared into the kitchen to help her mother and Elaine. Lizbeth went to the china cupboard in the corner and removed cups and saucers, the sugar bowl and the creamer.

  While she was doing that, Eric leaned closer to Brad and asked, “So, this trip to Montana—was it all business?”

  “It was business,” Brad answered without elaboration.

  Eric gave him a penetrating look. “Emily went on and on about visiting a couple and a baby. You know, don’t you, that she wants a passel of kids someday.”

  Brad hadn’t known that for certain, but he’d guessed. When he’d seen Emily with Marissa, he’d known motherhood was in her nature. Just the way she related to her sisters proved that.

  “Emily will make a wonderful mother.” Brad knew that in his soul.

  Frustrated he wasn’t getting more out of Brad, Eric continued poking. “She said she’s not going to be working with you anymore. Is that true?”

  “That’s true. She’s going to train with a senior private investigator. If she likes the work, she can get her license.”

  “You think she’s really cut out for that?”

  “One thing I don’t do is underestimate Emily. If she decides that’s what she wants, nothing will stop her. And she’ll be good at it, too.”

  When Eric studied Brad, as if gauging his sincerity, Brad became irritated. “I’m looking out for Emily’s best interests, too.”

  Finally Eric backed off. “I just wanted to make sure of that. She’s tough and smart but she’s more vulnerable than anybody knows.”

  Brad knew that’s why he had to cut this off now. He couldn’t say their last night together had been a mistake. It had been too intense and fulfilling to be a mistake. But that last night was going to make everything said and done between them now even harder.

  After dinner, Brad stayed a while longer. It was the polite thing to do. Finally, though, he said his good-nights and then he asked Emily, “Walk me out?”

  Not hesitating, she followed him to the door and out into the hall.

  Her smile slipped from her lips as she looked up at him. An awkward silence settled between them. Finally she murmured, “Thank you again for the camera.”

  After a very long moment, he said, “You deserve the best, Emily, the best of everything.” He took a step away from her.

  “I’m not going to see you again, am I?” she blurted out.

  “No, not like this. It’s best for you if we don’t. I don’t have anything to give you. One day you’ll meet a man worthy of you.”

  “I’ve already met a worthy man. You have more to give than you think. But you have to believe that. Up until now, you thought you were your reputation, and I’m not sure you considered being anything else. In Montana, I saw so many sides to you that you keep hidden.”

  Every word was going through him like a lance…because he could feel the truth in what she said. But she wanted a family, children—the very things he’d avoided all his adult life.

  “Your life is about family. Mine isn’t.”

  “Yours could be, too, if that’s what you wanted. You think because your parents divorced, because you were shuttled back and forth from one to the other, that you don’t know how to be a husband or a father. But I think you’re wrong. With Juliet and Mark’s baby…”

  He couldn’t let her go on with this. He couldn’t let her think there was hope. “I held Marissa for fifteen minutes. That’s not being a father.”

  “It’s the way you held her,” Emily protested with certainty.

  “You’re seeing what you want to see.”

  “And you’re denying what you think you have to deny.”

  In spite of himself, he couldn’t keep from touching her one last time. Reaching out, he trailed his thumb across her cheek and felt her tremble in response. He wanted to kiss her so badly that nothing in the world seemed to matter—not his career, not his money, not his reputation, not anything he’d valued before. If he kissed her, he’d be taking advantage of her. If he led her on, he’d be worse than the irresponsible playboy she once thought he was.

  “I have to go.” He dropped his hand to his side. “Tomorrow you’ll start working for Jack. If you put your heart and soul into it, you’ll be great.”

  “I think my heart and my soul are busy thinking about something else right now.”

  “Forget about me, Emily. Tell your mother and your sisters and brother I had a great time.”

  Walking away from her, he stopped halfway to the elevator. “And use that camera for the best pictures you’ve ever taken.”

  Fortunately when he pressed the button on the elevator, it opened immediately. He stepped inside, wanting to get a last glimpse of Emily. However, before he could glance down the hall, the doors whooshed shut and she was gone.

  His heart told him to stay. His head told him to leave.

  He always followed his head.

  In spite of her stern lecture to herself—that Brad had to go his way and she had to go hers—Emily cried on and off throughout the night. She’d seen the real Brad in Montana, a loving, caring man who could make a commitment, say vows and live a happily ever after if he chose it. Happily ever after wasn’t a fairy tale or a dream, it was a choice. When you had the right person beside you…

  She’d found the right person, but the problem was he didn’t think he was the right person. There was nothing she could do about that.

  When she went into work the next morning earlier than usual, Brad wasn’t there yet and she was thankful for that. She had to empty her desk, pack up her personal belongings and take all of it down to Jack’s office.

  She was removing an extra pair of shoes from her bottom drawer when Brad came through the door followed by a beautiful blonde and an older man in a three-piece suit. A younger man in a suit
and tie tagged behind.

  Brad opened the door to his office as he said to the blonde, “My lawyer has the DNA report. We’ll be finished with this in five minutes.”

  Seeing Brad this morning was like a punch in the stomach, and Emily found it hard to take a deep breath. She’d lectured herself before coming to work that she might run into him. And she told herself that in the days to come that was a very distinct possibility, too. He and Jack often worked together. They consulted on cases. The gossip mill in the firm would keep her apprised of exactly whom Brad was seeing and whom he wasn’t.

  Sinking into her desk chair, she realistically thought about all of that for the very first time.

  She couldn’t do it. She simply couldn’t do it. She couldn’t work in the same firm, hearing news about him, seeing him in the hall or even having to deal with him. She loved him too much for that.

  There was no way she could accept this promotion. No way at all.

  Studying the three boxes on her desk, she decided to take them to her car and head home. But first she would type up a letter of resignation.

  With tears in her eyes, she knew the only solution to loving Brad was leaving Vaughn Associates for good.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Brad stood in his father’s office, relieved the meeting with his lawyer and Suzette Brouchard had gone so well. Of course, when the proof was printed in black and white—

  “So Brouchard admitted she and her boyfriend were just trying to get money out of you?”

  “She said it was her boyfriend’s idea. With the test results, knowing with one hundred percent certainty that I’m not the father, what else could she say? They thought if they put enough pressure on me, especially through the media, they could get a settlement before the DNA testing results came in.”

  With a shake of his head Phillip Vaughn sighed. “Women.”

  Right now Brad didn’t want to hear about his father’s views on the fairer sex. “There’s something else I wanted to discuss with you.”

  His father’s eyes narrowed. “What would that be?”

 

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