by Rachel Cross
It might be wiser to simply say good night and go inside, but she hesitated, wanting to say something that would let him know . . . what, exactly? Something had changed tonight, even if she wasn’t sure what it was or what it meant. “I’m glad you came out tonight,” she said, thinking the words a little lame and insufficient even as she said them.
“Me, too.”
Stepping out of the truck and shutting the door behind her, she put her face to the open window and allowed herself to give in to a sudden impulse. “Michael?”
“Yeah?”
“I think . . . ”
He waited expectantly for her to finish but didn’t try to hurry her.
She said it before she could change her mind. “I think maybe the real you is a better guy than you think.”
Her words clearly caught him by surprise, and some unidentifiable emotion flickered into his eyes before he could stop it.
“Well . . . good night.” Shannon turned to go up her front steps before he could speak or she could blurt out anything else she might later regret. She heard the truck idle a few moments longer before Michael finally put it back into drive and headed back down her driveway.
What was that? she asked herself, locking her front door behind her and leaning against it with one hand on her forehead.
Later, in her bed for the night, Shannon stared at the ceiling in the darkness of her room. It was quiet except for the sound of Bo’s gentle snores, but she still couldn’t sleep. There was Drew to face tomorrow, and Clarissa, but they were not the ones keeping her awake.
No, in the end, that was Michael.
Chapter Eight
The rational part of Shannon’s mind told her that staying home from work was not an option. She would have to face the music sooner or later. She also knew that coming in early enough to get to her desk before Clarissa arrived would hardly prevent the older woman from tracking her down, but some part of Shannon must have still believed it possible because she got to work a full thirty minutes before her usual time. Turning on her computer, she put an expression of such focus and concentration on her face, hopefully the other woman would be reluctant to interrupt her. She heard the squeak of the outer doors opening, and she redoubled her efforts to look preoccupied. Who knew? It might grant her a temporary reprieve.
“Ahem.”
Then again, maybe not. Shannon sighed inwardly and grudgingly looked up from her work. “Yes?”
Clarissa stood in the doorway, her arms folded across her chest, and Shannon wondered fleetingly if this was how it felt to be caught out past one’s curfew. “You’re dating Drew’s brother?”
“Uh . . . ”
“The last time I saw the two of you together, I thought there might be bloodshed. What on earth happened?”
“Well, we—”
“And did you or did you not say he had a bad reputation?”
“In high school, yes, but—”
Clarissa frowned and shook her head warningly. “Shannon, I know he’s a very handsome man, and it’s easy to be dazzled by that, but you need to use your head here. You’re not exactly a woman of the world, and a man like him could easily sweet-talk you into something you might regret later. I’m sure he seems exciting and wonderful now, but—”
“Clarissa!” Heat flooded Shannon’s face. “We’re just spending a little time together, that’s all.”
“Really? Because I heard the two of you got pretty hot and heavy at the auction last night.”
“Hot and heavy? It was one kiss! I—Look,” Shannon said, realizing just how defensive she sounded and struggling to keep her voice calm. “I know you’re just looking out for me, and I appreciate it, Clarissa. Really, I do. But even though it may seem on the surface like I’m going off the deep end, please trust me. I know what I’m doing.”
“Are you sure? The whole bad boy thing aside, is it a good idea to get involved with your boss’s brother? Especially when there’s bad blood between the two of them? Oh, Shannon, please think this whole thing through before you take it any further.”
“All right, I will,” Shannon agreed, desperately hoping this particular conversation would end quickly. “I promise. Okay?”
Her promise must not have been that convincing, because Clarissa continued to frown worriedly at her. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt, honey. Please be careful.”
Shannon nodded, and Clarissa turned to go to her own desk, still looking unhappy. Guilt flickered to life inside Shannon. Would Clarissa be less worried if she knew the truth about Shannon’s arrangement with Michael, or would she fret even more? This was not the way things were supposed to go. It was like planning what was supposed to be a nice little swim in the ocean but then realizing she had wandered too far out past the shallows, and now the currents around her were picking up speed.
The phone rang, and Shannon automatically reached for it even though her head was not at its clearest. She drew a blank for a moment before habit took over and the words spilled out of her mouth. “Drew Kingston’s office, Shannon speaking. How may I help you? I’m sorry, he’s not in yet, but—” Then someone cleared his throat, and Shannon looked up to see that Drew had taken Clarissa’s place in the doorway. His expression was impossible for her to read because it was one she had never seen on his face before. Her mouth went dry, but not in the way it usually did when she saw him. She swallowed and forced herself to speak. “Let me put you on hold for a minute, please.” Pressing the appropriate button, she put the receiver back in its place.
“Shannon.”
“Good morning,” she offered, doing her best to look him in the eye calmly but not finding it easy.
“Shannon, I think we should talk.” Drew took a deep breath, as if maybe this wasn’t the most comfortable situation for him, either. “About Michael.”
She nodded, putting her hands in her lap and clasping her fingers tightly together out of his line of vision. Her entire drive to work had been spent mentally rehearsing for this conversation, but nothing she practiced came to mind now. Better to let him say his piece first, and then maybe inspiration would strike her.
“I realize your personal life is your own business, and who you spend your time with after hours is your choice, but . . . ” Drew ran one hand through his hair, a move that usually made her heart flutter. Today she barely noticed, maybe because her pulse was already faster than usual. “If it were any other man, I’d keep my mouth shut, but because it’s Michael, I feel a certain responsibility to speak up. You understand what I mean?”
“I understand.”
Drew took a step closer. “It’s just that he—”
The phone rang again, and Shannon glanced at the light already blinking from the caller on hold, then she looked back at Drew.
He sighed in obvious frustration. “This isn’t the best time and place to do this, is it? All right, my last meeting this morning is over around noon. Can we have lunch together then and talk? I really think we need to.”
“Okay, noon. You’ve got a call waiting on line one,” Shannon told him as she reached for the phone, her anxiety making her tone crisper than usual. “Drew Kingston’s office. How may I help you?”
Drew moved past her into his office, his jaw tight with tension. As he closed the door behind him, Shannon sank heavily back into her chair and closed her eyes.
• • •
Shannon had no appetite to speak of, but the waiter watched her expectantly, and she finally ordered the soup of the day—whatever it was—just to get him to leave. She really didn’t care what he brought her so long as it gave her an excuse not to talk.
She could feel Drew’s eyes on her and realized he was about as happy as she was to be having this conversation. Forcing herself to look up, she saw him fingering his tie as if it were too tight.
“I don’t quite know where to begin,” Drew admitted finally, “but I have to say I was not expecting to see you and Michael together last night.” He shook his head in disbelief. “That’s t
he understatement of the year. The two of you—it’s the last thing in the world I would have predicted.”
Shannon blinked.
“I meant no offense,” he said hastily, catching the look on her face. “It’s just that you’re a nice girl, Shannon, and ‘nice’ isn’t really Michael’s type. Which is why I’m so concerned. Michael has always been a bit of a heartbreaker, and I don’t want to see you get hurt. So at the risk of crossing the line between professional and personal, I’m going to ask you to reconsider getting involved with him.”
Shannon was silent. Here she was, sitting across the table from Drew in a nice restaurant, having lunch with him. This was something she had dreamed about doing for years. Shouldn’t she be more excited? Granted, she never imagined it under quite these circumstances, but here she was, the complete focus of his full attention.
It was not as thrilling as she dreamed.
“Please trust me when I say no good can come of it. Michael’s main concern is what feels good to Michael. Relationships with women are all about fun for him. Once the newness wears off, he loses interest.”
These were all words she expected. They were not so different from things she had thought about Michael herself. But they no longer rang as true as they used to. “I know about Michael’s history with women.”
“Somehow I doubt he told you everything.”
“He didn’t have to. I remember him in high school.”
“You remember . . . ?” Drew trailed off, momentarily confused as he absorbed her words. “You went to McKinley?”
She nodded. “Same year as you.”
Drew looked startled and then a little embarrassed. He began fidgeting with his tie again. “Oh.”
This was definitely not how she daydreamed about spending time with him. It was awkward to say the least. The only positive thing she could see about it was that he seemed concerned for her welfare—in a generic sort of way. She struggled to find the right thing to say, but despite her hopes, inspiration refused to come. Honesty would have to do. Well, maybe selective honesty. “Last night with Michael and me . . . ” She paused, her cheeks growing warm. “It wasn’t exactly what it looked like. We’re spending a little time together is all. You really don’t need to worry about me.”
“Spending a little time together,” Drew repeated, frowning.
“Yes.”
The look on his face suggested Drew was no more convinced than Clarissa was. “I can’t help but think it’s a mistake for you to spend any time around him at all. I’d hate to see you do something you’ll regret later.”
“I appreciate your concern.” And she did. It was just too bad that he came across as a stern fatherly type and not as a jealous, red-blooded male. Strangely enough, she felt more irritation than disappointment. It was nice to know people like Drew and Clarissa cared enough to speak up, but did everyone around her really believe she was a naïve idiot? “I’m really okay, though.”
“I realize it may seem that way now, but you’re too close to the situation to see things clearly. I’ve seen it before. Michael can have a powerful effect on women, sometimes with disastrous results. Their judgment gets clouded.”
“My judgment is fine.”
“You may think that, but I’m not sure you’re really seeing Michael for who he is,” Drew persisted.
He sounded like a broken record, and it was starting to get on her nerves. “You two don’t exactly spend a lot of time together, though. Don’t you think it’s possible he might not be the same person you remember?” She caught her fingers playing nervously with the edge of her napkin and quickly smoothed it back down. Here she was, finally alone with her high school hero, and she was contradicting him. It was hardly one of her romantic fantasies. She swallowed and continued. “People can change.”
Dismay flickered over Drew’s face, and Shannon realized her words only further convinced him she was under Michael’s spell. “See? He’s got your head turned around already. He’s the misunderstood and long-suffering bad boy, and you’re the only one who ‘gets’ him. Please don’t fall for it, Shannon.”
She sighed, feeling an unexpected wave of frustration toward him. It made her tongue a little looser than usual. “I’m not falling for anything. The truth is—” She hesitated, debating how much of the truth to reveal to him now. He was too convinced his brother was bad news to keep an open mind about anything that had to do with Michael, and that included the youth center. “Well, the truth is, we’ve mostly just been talking. You know, about old times. Family, high school, things like that.”
“Old times.” Drew sounded skeptical.
“Yes. Maybe you should try talking to him. See for yourself if anything’s changed.”
“Michael and I have nothing to talk about.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
It was now or never. She took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “How about your parents?”
He stiffened, and she knew she was treading on dangerous ground here. But if she hesitated, she would never have the guts to get the rest of the words out. She told herself it was in his best interest to hear her out, but the truth was that it was Michael she thought of when she spoke.
“I’m sorry. I know it’s none of my business. But I also know it’s something Michael’s been thinking about, and I thought maybe it was on your mind, too. Especially after the way you seemed to be having second thoughts last week about the youth center.” She was prattling on, but she couldn’t help herself. “Maybe it would help you both to talk about it.”
Drew sat silently, his face a mask.
Shannon’s pulse went faster the longer he sat without saying anything, and finally she started to push her chair back from the table, feeling sick to her stomach. “I’m sorry. Maybe I should go.”
“No.” Drew closed his eyes and rested his forehead in one hand, his elbow resting heavily on the table. “Stay, please.”
“I think maybe I said too much.”
“No, it’s just . . . ” He sighed. “Look, I appreciate that you were concerned for me. Truthfully, yes, I did have second thoughts. And third and fourth ones. I grew up in that house, and I have a lot of fond memories of it. The thing is, I don’t want it to become some sort of mausoleum for my parents. And I don’t think they would want that either. Instead, it’s going to be a place full of opportunities for kids who really need them. My parents would like that. Do you know what I mean?”
“Yes,” she agreed softly.
“So, no, I’m not having any more second thoughts. My mind is made up. And as far as Michael goes . . . ”
She glanced up at him.
“Maybe he’s grown a conscience, but I seriously doubt it. And you know what? I’m really not interested in finding out either way. You say he’s been thinking about our parents, feeling guilty maybe? Good. He should feel guilty. Ask him about the things he said before he left next time he asks for your sympathy.”
The bitterness in his voice caught her off guard, but not so much that she missed his assumption about his brother. She felt a flicker of defensiveness. “He hasn’t been asking for sympathy.”
Drew leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “Right.”
There had been many times in the past when she admired his refusal to compromise on an issue or back down from the stance he had taken. It made him the kind of politician whose promises most people felt they could trust. For the first time, though, it occurred to her that he might be overly stubborn. At least when it came to his brother. “Whatever happened, it happened a long time ago. He was a teenager, right? Teenagers do stupid things all the time. Maybe he’s done a lot of growing up since then.”
“Not my concern. He’s none of my business anymore, and I’m none of his.”
She leaned forward. “But he’s your brother—”
The waiter arrived then to cheerfully deliver their meals, and Shannon stopped speaking. She glanced down at the bowl of soup he slid i
n front of her. It was not minestrone, but for a moment her memory flashed to the day she dumped her soup on Michael’s lap. Then she thought back to the night before and the camaraderie with Michael, and she realized she would be enjoying herself a lot more if he were the one sitting across the table from her, not Drew. The realization hit her with no small amount of surprise.
“The fact he’s my brother only means we share the same name, as far as I’m concerned,” Drew said tightly after the waiter left.
“What about blood being thicker than water?”
“Those are just words. They may look good in needlepoint, but they don’t really mean anything.”
Shannon stared at Drew. “Maybe they should.”
“You think I’m being unfair.” It was a statement, not a question.
She turned her eyes to her soup, feeling her cheeks flush. This was so not the way she imagined this week going when it first started. How had everything gotten so off track? “I just think it’s a shame,” she said finally, feeling suddenly depressed. “For both of your sakes.”
Drew leaned in across the table, his expression earnest. “Shannon, you’re a good-hearted person and you really believe what you’re saying about Michael. You want to see something good in him, and that’s admirable. But please—would you, for your own sake, think twice before seeing him again?”
Shannon looked up from her meal to meet his gaze. It was so easy to build up an image of someone, good or bad, and forget there was more to them than that. Drew was guilty of doing that with Michael, but she realized with a surprised sort of dismay that she was guilty of doing that with Drew, too. People were more complicated than that. Drew was a good man, but he wasn’t the boy she remembered from high school, not really. And she wasn’t the same person either.
She picked up her spoon and gave him a rueful little smile. “No,” she said softly and began eating.
• • •
Michael sat at the coffee shop counter and rubbed a hand over tired eyes. He’d spent far more time lying awake last night than sleeping. Not because of Drew, and not because of the youth center, but because of Shannon’s parting words to him. Coming from most people, they would have been easy enough to dismiss as politeness or even flattery, but he could tell she meant them and somehow that had been enough to keep him awake hours later.