As ugly continued to get uglier, Brad should have been experiencing an unbearable loss. What did it say about him that all he felt was relief that he wasn’t getting married in a month?
The patio door slid open, and his brother and father stepped outside. Unlike Brad, who wore his misery on his shoulder, these two were wearing attaboy grins.
“What’s everybody so happy about?” Brad asked.
“Your brother put in his resignation.”
“Ah, so you made it official. That’s your good news?”
Nancy rose from the chaise recliner, strolled to Neil’s side, and kissed her husband. “It’s the best news ever.”
“You want to tell me how unemployment is making everybody so cheery?” Brad groused.
Neil hugged his wife. “I’m going back to school. I’m going to earn a Master’s degree to teach. I’m gonna coach, work with kids.”
Brad added his own smile to the celebration. Neil Jordan had been born for that type of career. “That is good news.”
“Guess neither of my boys wanted my company.” John held up his hands. “If I forced it on you boys, that wasn’t my intention.”
“You did what was natural, Dad.” Brad pumped Neil’s hand. “We just chose different directions.”
For the first time, Brad noticed that Nancy was beginning to show. Neil helped her into the pool where the parents joined their children in a melee of splashing and fun.
Watching them, Brad asked, “Think I’ll ever have that?”
“I don’t know why not. The other day I heard something about these online dating sites. Might be fun to go on a dozen blind dates, spend some time with some perfect strangers to see if one of them might be your soul mate.”
Brad winced.
“Or . . . I know a certain young lady in Dallas who might take you up on an offer, if you’d only ask her.”
“Yeah?” Brad raised his face to the sun. “And how am I supposed to do that? I don’t think you realize how badly I blew it. Not only did I rave on about commitment, and how important it was to me, I later found out my fiancée had been part of a plot to kill her.” To show up on Diana’s doorstep a week and a half later? “Even though I damned well deserve it, I’m not real keen on having a door slammed in my face.”
“You’re absolutely right. Better to keep looking at your brother, and all that he has, and keep stepping on your dick.”
Brad shook his head. He’d been doing his share of that, all right. He tamped down his jaw.
“Do you love her, Brad?”
“Don’t think I ever stopped.”
“Does she love you?”
“Up until two weeks ago, I believe she did.”
Brad followed his father’s gaze to the pool. Neil had his son on his shoulders, Nan had her daughter on hers, and one of those kids was going to topple.
“Want to know why your brother has that tight little family? He worked to save it. When he thought the presidency at Jordan might kill him, Neil resigned—for them.” John hardened his voice. “Want to have what your brother has? Stop being a dimwit, and go after her.”
The sides of Brad’s mouth curved up. “First, I’m stepping all over my dick, and now I’m a dimwit?”
“Just calling ’em like I see ’em.”
Brad tossed his father a sidelong glance. “Since you’re so good at giving advice, how good are you at taking it?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Something tells me you think of Faith Reid as more than a friend.”
Brad’s father squinted as though he might balk, then his expression turned sheepish. “Guess I’m about as transparent as that pool water. Trust me; I have been fighting for her. But right now, Faith’s coming to terms with everything your grandfather did to her family. Thanks to him, our friendship’s been strained.”
“So, go after her.”
“I plan to. Just so happens, she’s been in Dallas with Diana for the last few days. But Faith will be home tonight, and tomorrow she’s agreed to have dinner with me. So, maybe things are looking up.”
“Perhaps now, with the government investigation underway, she’ll accept it’s time to move on. Twenty-seven years is a long time to hope.”
“We’re both in agreement on that. But if she decides to go on waiting, I reckon I will, too.” John’s gaze swept to Brad’s. “As for you, dimwit, Diana has nothing to wait for. She might choose to move on. Have you ever thought about that?”
A chill ran up Brad’s spine, and his gut twisted in knots. What the hell was he doing? He really was a dimwit. How much longer did he plan to, as his dad had so eloquently put it, keep stepping on his dick?
“See ya later, Dad.”
“Should I tell Gloria to expect you for dinner?”
“No.” Brad paused at the sliding glass door. “Tell her I’ll be in Dallas.”
Chapter Forty-six
DIANA PUT HER mom on a plane back to Diamond on Friday. Then, with all the secrets out in the open, she met her friend and executive producer for lunch. There, she poured out her heart to him. Releasing the information after keeping it pent-up for so long felt therapeutic. She told Marty how much she’d loved Brad, about his grandfather’s blackmail, that for years she believed her father had betrayed his country, and that the traitorous accusation had resulted in a broken engagement and an eight-year exile from her hometown.
She knew precisely the minute Marty went from friend to producer. His sympathetic demeanor changed, and instead of seeing Diana across the table from him, she’d transformed into a gigantic dollar sign before his eyes.
Thanks to John Jordan, Marty already knew about Jordan Industries. Brad’s father had referred all media outlets to KBXT-TV. If they wanted the down and dirty details about the scandal surrounding the company, they could talk to Diana Reid.
As a result, the station saw its normally high ratings skyrocket even higher. Everyone in the Dallas/Fort Worth vicinity had been tuning in to view the local heroine who’d uncovered a conspiracy that had led to chemical dumping and murder.
At getting the exclusive, Diana had been as grateful as she was surprised. If John hadn’t come forward, she would have forever kept her promise to Brad and never repeated a single word. Many of her dreams the past week had surrounded waking up in his arms after he’d carried her out of the underground tank.
She’d never forget how shocked, then touched, she’d been when he’d backtracked on his no media demand, saying, “You’ll write the story. You’ve earned every word.”
Marty tossed his napkin over his plate. “You’re a gold mine, Diana. If the general manager doesn’t take out insurance on you, I will.”
Yanked back to the present, she rolled her eyes and laughed. Some gold mine. Since her return from Diamond, she’d been so depressed, she’d been unable to summon her usual vivaciousness in front of the camera. More than once, she’d flubbed her lines. As for the ad-libbing that was often required to do her job, forget that. When someone made an off-the-cuff remark, and expected her witty reply, she’d come up with nothing.
“I wouldn’t go that far. But now I hope you understand why I’ve valued my privacy on occasion.”
“On occasion? Only like a clam. All I can say is, Brad Jordan must be crazy. Tough break, kid.”
Diana grabbed her purse. “Shall we get back to the studio?”
“Not yet. I want to run something by you.”
She sighed. Here we go. “What?”
“There’s an old saying, ‘Strike while the iron is hot.’ Ever heard it? Well, you’re sizzlin’, babe. Viewers have loved the chemical story. So, let’s take it further.”
Frowning, Diana leaned back in her chair and folded her arms. “How much further?”
Marty morphed into his ove
r-the-top animated self whenever he was excited about a project. “I talk to management about running a weeklong exposé—the life of KBXT-TV Reporter Diana Reid.”
“I don’t think so, but thanks. I want to report stories, not become one.”
“Hot iron—anchors get old, remember? Have you even considered what will happen when you get put out to pasture? If we run this series, by the time I get through with you, New York will be banging on our door. I predict a book deal in your future—hell, I see a bidding war.”
Diana broke into a fit of hysterics. Her stomach ached she was laughing so hard. “And I see a psychiatrist for you, and a new pair of glasses.” Knowing he wouldn’t stop until she at least gave him something to sink his teeth into, she leaned forward. “Tell you what. I’ll think about it.”
“Is that a yes?”
“I’ll think about it.”
Her footfalls were lighter as they walked back to the station. Honestly, Marty’s idea had been tempting. But as much as she had no problem telling the world what a bastard Clayton Jordan had been, his family was not. She once told Brad she wasn’t out to destroy him. She’d meant it then, but after her reappearance in Diamond, she meant it more than ever.
“Hey, it’s Friday. How about when we get off work tonight we catch a movie or go to a club?”
“Can I let you know? My mom’s been here, plus work, it’s been an exhausting few days.”
“No problem.” Marty held open the door for her. “But, Diana?”
She stopped and looked back over her shoulder. “Yes?”
“I’m glad you finally told me about your past. But this Jordan dude you’re hung up on? He chose someone else, babe. It’s time to move on.”
THAT NIGHT, DIANA sat on her condo floor rummaging through the cabinet beside her TV.
Marty had been right. It was time to move on. And she would, but not tonight. She’d loved his suggestion of a movie, just not the one he’d suggested. A new film called The Notebook had seized the nation and had critics clamoring and moviegoers talking. But in her current state, a tearjerker was, at best, a terrible idea. She hoped Marty and the crew had a wonderful time crying their eyes out without her.
“No, thank you,” she said, picking up another DVD, studying it, and setting it in the no stack.
Her able assistant Merlin crawled up and placed his two front paws on her thighs. The neighbors who’d kept him had said the cat had been out of sorts at Diana’s departure. Newly returned, he’d been standoffish at first, but had gradually warmed up to her again. Especially now that she sat cross-legged on a level close to his, he seemed all over the idea. Every time she made a stack, he swatted his newfound toys, and sent them into a disarray of disorganization.
Staring into his amazing blue eyes, Diana kissed the top of his soft, furry head. “You’re not helping,” she said. Then scanning her labeled favorites . . . she added, “So, Merl, here’s where we’re at. While You were Sleeping . . .” She looked at the cat. “Probably not. Enemy at the Gate . . .” She shook her head. “Not a good place for me right now.” She scratched behind his ears. “Did I tell you I was abducted and put in an underground tank? Lord of the Rings? Too long. Casablanca? Not no, but hell no.”
Diana sighed, wishing she could go to sleep and wake up on Monday in time for work. When it came to wallowing in a funk, weekends were the pits.
From the rear of the cabinet, she saw a DVD that she’d missed. She pulled it out, smiled, and started to laugh. It wasn’t from her collection, which was why she must have overlooked it. This DVD belonged to Marty.
Several months ago, he’d brought it over, along with pizza and popcorn, and insisted they watch two hours of Jim Carey’s and Jeff Daniel’s crazy antics in Dumb and Dumber.
She agreed simply because of the pizza and popcorn.
She had no pizza tonight, but she had a half pint of Jamocha Almond Fudge ice cream. She stroked Merlin’s fur. “What do you think? This one?”
Merlin’s meow seemed to say, “I agree,” and Diana smiled.
That was, until the intercom buzzed, and she glanced at the clock. The attendants in the lobby were well aware she didn’t keep regular hours, but if someone did come over at this time of night, it was typically Marty. Still, he’d gone to the movie.
Diana set the cat on the floor and traipsed to the intercom. She pushed the speaker button. “Yes?”
“Ms. Reid. It’s Cal downstairs. There’s a . . . gentleman here to see you.”
Diana blinked hard. “A gentleman? Cal knew Marty, and he did not refer to her producer as a “gentleman.”
“He says his name’s Brad Jordan,” the attendant said.
Diana narrowed her gaze. She took in her cluttered condo and the DVDs all over her floor. Brad was in Dallas? In her lobby? Her first impulse was to tell Cal to send him up simply to find out what he was doing here. Yet, a sudden burst of anger hit her, and she pressed the speaker button again. “Cal?”
“Yes, Ms. Reid?”
“Tell Mr. Jordan I don’t allow soon-to-be-married men into my apartment late at night.”
Cal, all of twenty, stuttered. “Okay . . . Ms. Reid.”
She pressed her ear to the intercom to hear Brad’s muffled response.
“Ms. Reid,” Cal answered back. “Mr. Jordan said he’s glad you don’t, and he’s no longer soon-to-be married.”
Diana stepped back and let the comment register. Part of her was gloriously happy; the other part was seriously annoyed. Their last heartbreaking moments were bitter and still fresh in her mind.
“Ms. Reid?”
“Yes, Cal?”
“Mr. Jordan said to tell you he could freeze to death down here.”
Diana laughed. It had been a record heat wave in Dallas today. Based on his quick thinking alone, she relented and asked Cal to direct him to her condo.
She picked up Merlin, stepped out into the hallway to await the elevator, and watched as the floor lights lit up. A bell dinged when it reached the fifth floor, and Brad walked off.
Tall, broad-shouldered and blue-eyed handsome, he stood for a second and watched her. Brad didn’t have an unconfident cell in his genetic makeup, but that’s what she saw on his face.
“Perhaps you should come inside before you catch your death of cold.”
He smiled and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before entering.
Before Merlin got any bright ideas about bolting, she closed the door and set him on the floor.
Brad squatted to pet him. “Who’s this guy?”
“This is Merlin,” Diana said, folding her arms. “So named because he’s magical.”
“How so?”
“He saved me a lot of lonely years.”
Brad lifted an eyebrow. “Wish I would have known. Maybe I would have gotten a cat, too.”
Touché. “What did you mean, you’re no longer engaged?”
Brad stood. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and tilted his head. “You haven’t heard?”
“My mom’s been here, and I’ve been supplying a lot of information about Jordan Industries to the press. Heard what?”
“Gray Tafoya arrested Susan last week.”
Diana gasped. “Oh, my gosh, why?”
“She’s the one who stole your rental car.” As Brad related his horror, Diana moved to the couch and sat down. He went on to explain Susan’s involvement, and that she’d nearly gotten away with it until deputies had discovered his grandmother’s lipstick case among the vehicle’s contents.
“Wow, I . . . this is . . . unbelievable.”
Brad had followed her to the sofa. “Mind if I join you?”
She raised her stunned gaze to his. “Oh, of course, sit down.” Then, she remembered the rest of her manners. “Would you like something to drink?”
He was clearly nervous, while her emotions were like a ping pong ball missing the table.
“I don’t even know where to begin,” he said. “I really . . . I’d wanted to . . .” He threw up his hands. “Hell, I don’t know. I’d planned to . . .”
“Marry the wrong woman?” As soon as her acerbic response was out of her mouth, Diana wished she could take it back.
But Brad met her gaze with a smile. “Yeah.” His gaze traveled from hers as he took in her apartment. He stood and stepped over the DVDs on the floor. Next, he moved to examine the pictures on her mantel, the awards on her wall, and the view from her balcony. Finally, he faced her. “Now that you know, I’m wondering where that leaves us.”
Recognizing that he’d used the same words she had several days ago, she also saw how awkward he felt in using them. Diana’s heart squeezed. It must have cost Brad an enormous amount of pride to come here.
She tucked her legs beneath her on the sofa and shifted to meet his gaze. “It leaves me very happy and relieved, Brad.”
“Do I hear a but in there?”
“Unfortunately, you do. The day you came to my mom’s to tell me about Clayton’s deceit, I wanted you to take me in your arms and admit I was the only woman in the world for you. From there, we’d start over.”
Brad lifted his gaze to the ceiling. “Knowing what I know now, I wish I’d done just that.” He rounded the couch, picked up the Dumb and Dumber DVD on her coffee table, and sent her a questioning look.
“What can I say?” She lifted a shoulder. “I felt like laughing tonight.”
“I’d say Dumb and Dumber sums up my sorry performance that day.”
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