Ready for Marriage
Ready for Marriage
Debbie Macomber
Ready for Marriage
Debbie Macomber
Dedicated to
Carole Grande and her family
for their loving support
through the years
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
SHE COULD ALWAYS GROVEL at Evan’s feet. Knowing him as well as she did, Mary Jo Summer hill figured he’d probably like that. The very fact that she’d made this appointment—and then had the courage to show up—proved how desperate she was. But she’d had no choice; her parents’ future rested in her hands and she knew of no better attorney to help with this mess than Evan Dryden.
If he’d only agree to help her…
Generally, getting in touch with an old boyfriend wouldn’t raise such anxiety, but Evan was more than just someone she’d dated a few times.
They’d been in love, deeply in love, and had planned to marry. In ways she had yet to fully appreciate, Mary Jo still loved him. Terminating their relationship had nearly devastated her.
And him.
Mary Jo wasn’t proud of the way she’d ended it. Mailing him back the beautiful pearl engagement ring had been cowardly, but she’d known she couldn’t tell him face-to-face. She should have realized Evan would never leave it at that. She’d been a fool to believe he’d take back the ring without confronting her.
He’d come to her angry and hurt, demanding an explanation. It quickly became apparent that he wouldn’t accept the truth, and given no option, Mary Jo concocted a wild story about meeting another teacher and falling in love with him.
Telling such a bold-faced lie had magnified her guilt a hundredfold. But it was the only way she could make Evan believe her. The only way she could extricate herself from his life.
Her lie had worked beautifully, she noted with a twinge of pain. He’d recovered—just the way his mother had said he would. He hadn’t wasted any time getting on with his life, either.
Within a matter of months he was dating again. Pictures of Evan, with Jessica Kellerman at his side, had appeared regularly in the newspaper society pages. Unable to resist knowing more, Mary Jo had researched the Kellerman family. Her investigation had told her everything she needed to know. Jessica would make the perfect Dryden wife. The Kellermans were wealthy and established, unlike the Summer-hills, who didn’t rate so much as a mention in Boston’s social register.
Later the same year, Mary Jo had heard rumors of the extravagant Dryden family wedding. She been out of town that week at a teaching seminar, so she’d missed the newspaper coverage, but talk of the wedding and huge reception that followed had lingered for months. It was called the social event of the year.
That was nearly three years ago. Evan and Jessica were an old married couple by now. For all she knew, they might have already started a family. The twinge of regret became a knot in her stomach. Evan would make a wonderful father. They’d talked of a family, and she remembered how eager he was for children.
This wasn’t exactly the best time for her to reenter his life, but she had no alternative. Her parents’ future depended on Evan.
“Mr. Dryden will see you now,” the receptionist said, breaking into Mary Jo’s thoughts.
Her head shot up and she nearly lost her nerve right then and there. Her heart pounded furiously. In a dead panic she tightened her hold on her purse strap, fighting the urge to dash straight out of her chair and out of the office.
“If you’ll come this way.”
“Of course,” Mary Jo managed, although the words came out in gurglelike sounds, as if she were submerged in ten feet of water.
She followed the receptionist down a wide, plush-carpeted hallway to Evan’s office. His name was on the door, engraved on a gold plate. The receptionist ushered her in, and left.
Mary Jo recognized Evan’s secretary immediately, although they’d never met. Mrs. Sterling was exactly the way he’d described her. Late middle-age. Short and slim, with the energy of a Tasmanian devil. Formidably efficient. He’d claimed that the woman could easily reorganize the world if she had to, and that she’d willingly take on any project he asked of her. She was loyal to a fault.
“Evan asked me to send you right in,” Mrs. Sterling said, leading the way to the closed inner door. She opened it, then asked, “Can I get you a cup of coffee?” Her tone was friendly but unmistakably curious.
“No, thank you.” Mary Jo stepped over the threshold, her heart in her throat. She wondered how she’d feel seeing Evan again after all this time. She’d already decided that a facade was necessary. She planned to approach him as if they were long-lost friends. Casual friends. With a smile, she’d shake his hand, inquire about Jessica and catch up on events in his life.
Now that only a few feet stood between her and the man she loved, Mary Jo found she couldn’t move, barely even breathe.
Nothing, she realized, could have prepared her for the force of these emotions. Within seconds she was drowning in feelings she didn’t know how to handle. She felt swamped and panicky, as if she were going down for the third time.
She conjured up Gary’s face, the man she’d dated off and on for the past few months, but that didn’t help. Next she struggled to come up with some clever comment, some joke, anything. Instead, all she could remember was that the man she’d loved three years ago, loved now, was married to someone else.
Evan sat at his desk, writing; only now did he look up. Their eyes met and for the briefest moment, he seemed to experience the same sense of loss and regret she was feeling. He blinked and the emotion disappeared, wiped out with a mere movement of his eyes.
“Hello, Evan,” she said, amazed at how casual she sounded. “I imagine it’s a surprise to see me after all this time.”
He stood and extended his hand for a perfunctory shake, and when he spoke his voice was crisp and professional. “Mary Jo. It’s good to see you.”
Mary Jo nearly laughed out loud. Evan never did know how to tell a good lie. He was anything but pleased to see her again.
He motioned toward the chair on the other side of his desk. “Sit down.”
She did, gratefully, uncertain how much longer her knees would support her. She set her purse on the carpet and waited for her heart rate to return to normal before she told him the purpose of her visit.
“Did Mary offer you a cup of coffee?”
“Yes. I’m fine, thank you,” she said hurriedly. Her hands were trembling.
Evan sat down again and waited.
“I—guess you’re wondering why I’m here….”
He leaned back in his chair, looking cool and composed. It’d been three long years since she’d last seen him. He hadn’t changed, at least not outwardly. He remained one of the handsomest men she’d ever seen. His hair was as dark as his eyes, the color of rich Swiss chocolate. His features were well defined, almost chiseled, but that was too harsh a word for the finely cut, yet pronounced lines of his face. Walter Dryden, Evan’s father, was a Massachusetts senator, and it was commonly accepted that Evan would one day enter politics himself. He certainly had the smooth, clean-cut good looks for such a calling.
What had made him fall in love with Mary Jo? She’d always wondered, always been fascinated by that question. She suspected it had something to do with being different from the other women he’d dated. She’d amused him, hadn’t taken him too seriously, made him laugh.
“You have something you wanted to discuss with me?” he prompted, his tone revealing the slightest hint of irritation.
“Yes…sorry,” she said, quickly returning her attention to the matter at hand. “My parents…actually, my father…he retired not long ago,” she said, rushing the words together, “and he invested his savings with a financial company, Adison Investments. Have you ever heard of the firm?”
“No, I can’t say that I have.”
This didn’t surprise Mary Jo. Wealthy men like Evan had huge financial portfolios with varied and multiple investments. Her father had taken his life’s savings and entrusted it to a man he’d met and trusted completely.
“Dad invested everything he had with the company,” she continued. “According to the terms of the agreement, he was to receive monthly interest checks. He hasn’t. At first there were a number of plausible excuses, which Dad readily accepted. He wanted to believe this Bill Adison so much that it was easier to accept the excuses than face the truth.”
“Which is?” Evan asked.
“I…I don’t know. That’s why I’m here. My father’s worked thirty-five years as a construction electrician. He’s raised six children, scrimped and saved all that time to put something extra away for his retirement. He wanted to be able to travel with Mom. They’ve dreamed of touring the South Pacific, and now I’m afraid they’re going to be cheated out of everything.”
Evan scribbled down a few notes.
“I’m coming to you because I’m afraid my brothers are about to take things into their own hands. Jack and Rich went to Adison’s office last week and made such a fuss they were almost arrested. It’d destroy my parents if my brothers ended up in jail over this. As far as I can see, the only way to handle it is through an attorney.”
Evan made another note. “Did you bring the papers your father signed?”
“No. I didn’t tell anyone I was coming to see you. I thought if I could convince you to accept this case for my family, I’d bring my parents in and you could discuss the details with them. You need to understand that it’s more than the money. My dad’s embarrassed that he could have trusted such a man. He feels like an old fool.” Her father had become very depressed. Adison Investments had robbed him of far more than his retirement savings. They’d taken his self-confidence and left him feeling vulnerable and inept.
“There are strict laws governing investments in this state.”
Anxious to hear what he had to say, Mary Jo leaned forward in her chair. This was the very reason she’d swallowed her pride and come to Evan. He had the knowledge and political clout to be effective in ways her family never could.
“Then you can help us?” she asked eagerly. Evan’s hesitation sent her heart plummeting. “I’ll be happy to pay you whatever your fee is,” she added, as if that was his sole concern. “I wouldn’t expect you to charge less than you’d receive from anyone else.”
Evan stood and walked over to the window, his back to her. “Our firm specializes in corporate law.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t take this case, does it?”
Evan clenched his hands at his sides, then flexed his fingers. “No, but these sorts of cases have a tendency to become involved. You may end up having to sue.”
“My family is willing to do whatever to takes to settle this matter,” she said with a stubborn tilt to her jaw.
“Lawsuits don’t come cheap,” he warned, turning around to face her.
“I don’t care and neither do my brothers. True, they don’t know I made an appointment to see you, but once I tell them, I’m sure they’ll be willing to chip in whatever they can to cover your fee.” They wouldn’t be able to afford much. Mary Jo was the youngest of six and the only girl. Her brothers were all married and raising young families. There never seemed to be enough money to go around. The burden of the expense would fall on her shoulders, but Mary Jo readily accepted that.
“You’re sure you want me to handle this?” Evan asked, frowning.
“Positive. There isn’t anyone I trust more,” she said simply. Her eyes met his and she refused to look away.
“I could recommend another attorney, someone far more qualified in the area of investment fraud—”
“No,” she broke in. “I don’t trust anyone but you.” She hadn’t meant to tell him that and, embarrassed, quickly lowered her gaze.
He didn’t say anything for what seemed like a very long time. Mary Jo held her breath, waiting. If he expected her to plead, she’d do it willingly. It was fair compensation for the appalling way she’d treated him. “Please,” she added, her voice low and trembling.
Evan’s shoulders lifted with a drawn-out sigh. “Before I decide, fill me in on what you’ve been doing for the past three years.”
Mary Jo hadn’t anticipated this, wasn’t prepared to detail her life. “I’m still teaching.”
“Kindergarten?”
“Yes,” she said enthusiastically. She loved her job. “Five-year-olds are still my favorites.”
“I notice you’re not wearing a wedding band.”
Her gaze automatically fell to her ring finger, and she pinched her lips tightly together.
“So you didn’t marry lover boy, after all.”
“No.”
“What happened?” he asked. He seemed almost to enjoy questioning her. Mary Jo felt as though she were on the witness stand being cross-examined.
She shrugged, not wanting to become trapped in a growing web of untruths. She’d regretted that stupid lie every day for the past three years.
“It didn’t work out?” he suggested.
This was agony for her. “You’re right. It didn’t work out.”
He grinned then, for the first time, as if this information delighted him.
“Are you seeing someone now?”
“I don’t believe that information’s necessary to the case. You’re my attorney, not my confessor.”
“I’m nothing to you,” he said and his words were sharp. “At least not yet.”
“Will you take the case or won’t you?” she demanded.
“I haven’t decided yet.”
He did want her to grovel. And they said hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Apparently women didn’t hold the patent on that.
“Gary Copeland,” she said stiffly, without emotion. “Gary and I’ve been seeing each other for several months.”
“Another teacher?”
“He’s a fireman.”
Evan nodded thoughtfully.
“Will you or won’t you help my parents?” she asked again, growing tired of this silly game.
He was silent for a moment, then said abruptly, “All right. I’ll make some inquiries and learn what I can about Adison Investments.”
Mary Jo was so relieved and grateful she sagged in her chair.
“Make an appointment with Mrs. Sterling for next week, and bring your father in with you. Friday would be best. I’ll be in court most of the week.”
“Thank you, Evan,” she whispered, blinking rapidly in an effort to fight back tears.
She stood, eager now to escape. Resisting the urge to hug him, she hurried out of his office, past Mrs. Sterling and into the hallway. She was in such a blind rush she nearly collided with a woman holding a toddler in her arms.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Mary Jo said, catching herself.
“I’m afraid I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“No problem,” the other woman said with a friendly smile. She held the child protectively against her hip. The little boy, dressed in a blue-and-white sailor suit, looked up at her with eyes that were dark and solemn. Dark as rich Swiss chocolate.
Evan’s eyes.
Mary Jo stared at the tall lovely woman. This was Jessica, Evan’s wife, and the baby in her arms was Evan’s son. The flash of pain nearly paralyzed her.
“I shouldn’t have been standing so close to the door,” Jessica went on to say. “My husband insisted he was taking us to lunch, and asked me to meet him here.”
“You must be Jessica Dryden,” Mary Jo said, finding the strength to offer her a genuine smile. She couldn’t take her eyes off Evan’s son. He now wore a cheerful grin and waved small chubby arms. If circumstances had been different, this child might have been her own. The void inside her widened; she’d never felt so bleak, so empty.
“This is Andy.” Jessica did a small curtsy with her son in her arms.
“Hello, Andy.” Mary Jo gave him her hand, and like a proper gentleman, he took it and promptly tried to place it in his mouth.
Jessica laughed softly. “I’m afraid he’s teething. Everything goes to his mouth first.” She walked with Mary Jo toward the exit, bouncing the impatient toddler against her hip. “You look familiar,” she said casually. “ Do I know you?”
“I don’t think so. My name’s Mary Jo Summerhill.”
Jessica’s face went blank, then recognition swept into her eyes as her smile slowly evaporated. Any censure, however, was quickly disguised.
“It was nice meeting you,” Mary Jo said quickly, speeding up as they neared the door.
“Evan’s mentioned you,” Jessica said.
Mary Jo stopped suddenly. “He has?” She couldn’t help it. Curiosity got the better of her.
“Yes. He…thought very highly of you.”
That Jessica used the past tense didn’t escape Mary Jo. “He’s a top-notch attorney.”
“He’s wonderful,” Jessica agreed. “By the way, I understand we have a mutual friend. Earl Kress.”
Earl had been a volunteer at Mary Jo’s school. He’d tutored slow readers, and she’d admired his patience and persistence, and especially his sense of humor. The children loved him.
Earl mentioned Evan’s name at every opportunity. He seemed to idolize Evan for taking on his civil suit against the school district—and winning.
Earl had graduated from high school functionally illiterate. Because he was a talented athlete, he’d been passed from one grade to the next. Sports were important to the schools, and the teachers were coerced into giving him passing grades. Earl had been awarded a full-ride college scholarship but suffered a serious knee injury in football training camp two weeks after he arrived. Within a couple of months, he’d flunked out of college. In a landmark case, Earl had sued the school district for his education. Evan had been his attorney.
The case had been in the headlines for weeks. During the trial, Mary Jo had been glued to the television every night, anxious for news. As a teacher, she was, of course, concerned with this kind of crucial education issue. But in all honesty, her interest had less to do with Earl Kress than with Evan. Following the case gave her the opportunity to see him again, even if it was only on a television screen and for a minute or two at a time.
She’d cheered when she heard that Earl had won his case.
In the kind of irony that life sometimes tosses, Mary Jo met Earl about a year later. He was attending college classes and volunteering part-time as a tutor at the grade school. They’d become quick friends. She admired the young man and missed him now that he’d returned to the same university where he’d once failed. Again he’d gone on a scholarship, but this time it was an academic one.
“Yes, I know Earl,” Mary Jo said.
“He mentioned working with you to Evan. We were surprised to learn you weren’t married.”
Evan knew! He’d made her squirm and forced her to tell him the truth when all along he’d been perfectly aware that she was still single. Mary Jo’s hands knotted at her sides. He’d taken a little too much delight in squeezing the information out of her.
“Darling,” a husky male voice said from behind Mary Jo. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long.” He walked over to Jessica, lifted Andy out of her arms and kissed her on the cheek.
Mary Jo’s jaw fell open as she stared at the couple.
“Have you met my husband?” Jessica asked. “Damian, this is Mary Jo Summerhill.”
“How…hello.” Mary Jo was so flustered she could barely think.
Evan wasn’t married to Jessica. His brother was.
CHAPTER TWO
“CAN YOU HELP US ?” Norman Summerhill asked Evan anxiously.
Mary Jo had brought both her parents. Evan was reading over the agreement her father had signed with Adison Investments. With a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, she noticed he was frowning. The frown deepened the longer he read.
“What’s wrong?” Mary Jo asked.
Her mother hands were clenched so tightly that her fingers were white. Financial affairs confused and upset Marianna Summerhill. From the time Marianna had married Norman, she’d been a housewife and mother, leaving the financial details of their lives to her husband.
Mary Jo was fiercely proud of her family. Her father might not be a United States senator, but he was an honest and honorable man. He’d dedicated his life to his wife and family, and worked hard through the years to provide for them. Mary Jo had been raised firmly rooted in her parents’ love for each other and for their children.
Although close to sixty, her mother remained a beautiful woman, inside and out. Mary Jo had inherited her dark hair and brown eyes and her petite five-foot-four-inch frame. But the prominent high cheek-bones and square jaw were undeniably from her father’s side of the family. Her brothers towered above her and, like her parents, were delighted their youngest sibling was a girl.
That affection was returned. Mary Jo adored her older brothers, but she knew them and their quirks and foibles well. Living with five boys—all very different personalities—had given her plenty of practice in deciphering the male psyche. Evan might have come from a rich, upper-crust family, but he was a man, and she’d been able to read him like a book from the first. She believed that her ability to see through his playboy facade was what had originally attracted her to him. That attraction had grown and blossomed until…
“Come by for Sunday dinner. We eat about three, and we’d enjoy getting to know you better,” her mother was saying. “It’d be an honor to have you at our table.”
The words cut into Mary Jo’s thoughts like a scythe through wheat. “I’m sure Evan’s too busy for that, Mother,” she blurted out.
“I appreciate the invitation,” Evan said, ignoring Mary Jo.
“You’re welcome to stop off at the house any time you like, young man,” her father added, sending his daughter a glare of disapproval.
“Thank you. I’ll keep it in mind,” Evan said absently as he returned his attention to the investment papers. “If you don’t object, I’d like an attorney friend of mine to read this over. I should have an answer for you in the next week or so.”
Her father nodded. “You do whatever you think is necessary. And don’t you worry about your fee.”
“Dad, I already told you! I’ve talked to Evan about that. This is my gift to you.”
“Nonsense,” her father argued, scowling. “I was the one who was fool enough to trust this shyster. If anyone pays Evan’s fee, it’ll be me.”
“We don’t need to worry about that right now,” Evan interjected smoothly. “We’ll work out the details of my bill later.”
“That sounds fair to me.” Norman Summerhill was quick to agree, obviously eager to put the subject behind him. Her father had carried his own weight all his life and wouldn’t take kindly to Mary Jo’s accepting responsibility for this debt. She hoped she could find a means of doing so without damaging his formidable pride.
“Thank you for your time,” she said to Evan, desperate to be on her way.
“It was good to see you again, young man,” Norman said expansively, shaking hands with Evan. “No need to make yourself scarce. You’re welcome for dinner any Sunday of the year.”
“Daddy, please,” Mary Jo groaned under her breath. The last thing she wanted was to have Evan show up for Sunday dinner with her five brothers and their assorted families. He wasn’t accustomed to all the noise and chatter that invariably went on during meals. Her one dinner with his family had sufficiently pointed out the glaring differences between their upbringings.
“Before you leave,” Evan said to Mary Jo, “my brother asked me to give you this. I believe it’s from Jessica.” He handed her a sealed envelope.
“Thank you,” Mary Jo mumbled. For the better part of their meeting, he’d avoiding speaking to her. He hadn’t been rude or tactless, just businesslike and distant. At least toward her. With her parents, he’d been warm and gracious. She doubted they’d even recognized the subtle difference between how he treated them and how he treated her.
MARY JO DIDN’T OPEN the envelope until after she’d arrived back at her cozy duplex apartment. She stared at it several moments, wondering what Jessica Dryden could possibly have to say to her.
No need to guess, she decided, and tore open the envelope.
Dear Mary Jo,
I just wanted you to know how much I enjoyed meeting you. When I asked Evan why you were in to see him, he clammed right up. I should have known better—prying information out of Evan is even more difficult than it is with Damian.
From your reaction the other day, I could tell you assumed I was married to Evan. Damian and I got quite a chuckle out of that. You see, just about everyone tried to match me up with Evan, but I only had eyes for Damian. If you’re free some afternoon, give me a call. Perhaps we could have lunch.
Warmest regards,
Jessica
Jessica had written her telephone number beneath her signature.
Mary Jo couldn’t understand why Damian’s wife would seek her out. They were virtual strangers. Perhaps Jessica knew something Mary Jo didn’t—something about Evan. The only way to find out was to call.
Although Mary Jo wasn’t entirely sure she was doing the right thing, she reached for the phone.
Jessica Dryden answered almost immediately.
“Mary Jo! Oh, I’m so glad to hear from you,” she said immediately. “I wondered what you’d think about my note. I don’t usually do that sort of thing, but I was just so delighted you’d been to see Evan.”
“You said he’s mentioned me?”
“A number of times. Look, why don’t you come over one afternoon soon and we can talk? You’re not teaching right now, are you?”
“School let out a week ago,” Mary Jo concurred.
“That’s what I thought. Could you stop by next week? I’d really enjoy talking to you.”
Mary Jo hesitated. Her first introduction to Evan’s family had been a catastrophe, and she’d come away knowing their love didn’t stand a chance. A second sortie might prove equally disastrous.
“I’d like that very much,” Mary Jo found herself saying. If Evan had been talking about her, she wanted to know what he’d said.
“Great. How about next Tuesday afternoon? Come for lunch and we can sit on the patio and have a nice long chat.”
“That sounds great,” Mary Jo said.
It wasn’t until later that evening, when she was filling a croissant with a curried shrimp mixture for dinner, that Mary Jo stopped to wonder exactly why Jessica was so eager to “chat” with her.
SHE LIKED GARY . She really did. Though why she felt it was necessary to remind herself of this, she didn’t know. She didn’t even want to know.
It had been like this from the moment she’d broken off her relationship with Evan. She’d found fault with every man she’d dated. No matter how attractive he was. Or how successful. How witty, how considerate…it didn’t matter.
Gary was very nice, she repeated to herself.
Unfortunately he bored her to tears. He talked about his golf game, his bowling score and his prowess on the handball court. Never anything that was important to her. But his biggest fault, she’d realized early on in their relationship was that he wasn’t Evan.
They’d dated infrequently since the beginning of the year. To be honest, Mary Jo was beginning to think that, to Gary, her biggest attraction was her mother’s cooking. Invariably, Gary stopped by early Sunday afternoon, just as she was about to leave for her parents’ home. It’d happened three out of the past five weeks. She strongly suspected he’d been on duty at the fire hall the two weeks he’d missed.
“You look especially lovely this afternoon,” he said when she opened her front door to him now. He held out a bouquet of pink carnations, which she took with a smile, pleased by his thoughtfulness.
“Hello, Gary.”
He kissed her cheek, but it seemed perfunctory, as if he felt some display of affection was expected of him. “How’ve you been?” he muttered, easing himself into the old rocking chair next to the fireplace.
Although Mary Jo’s rooms were small, she’d thoughtfully and carefully decorated each one. The living room had an Early American look. Her brother Lonny, who did beautiful woodwork, had carved her an eagle for Christmas, which she’d hung above the fireplace. In addition to her rocking chair, she had a small sofa and an old oak chest that she’d restored herself. Her mother had crocheted an afghan for the back of the sofa in a patriotic blend of red, white and blue.
Her kitchen was little more than a wide hallway that led to a compact dining space in a window alcove. Mary Jo loved to sit there in the morning sunshine with a cup of coffee and a book.
“You’re lucky, you know,” Gary said, looking around as if seeing the room for the first time.
“How do you mean?”
“Well, first off, you don’t have to work in the summer.”
This was an old argument and Mary Jo was tired of hearing it. True, school wasn’t in session for those two and a half months, she didn’t spend them lolling on a beach. This was the first time in years that she wasn’t attending courses to upgrade her skills.
“You’ve got the time you need to fix up this place the way you want it,” he went on. “You have real decorating talent, you know. My place is a mess, but then I’m only there three or four days out of the week, if that.”
If he was hinting that he’d like her to help him decorate his place, she refused to take the bait.
“Are you going over to your parents’ this afternoon?” Gary asked cheerfully. “I don’t mean to horn in, but your family doesn’t seem to mind, and the two of us have an understanding, don’t we?”
“An understanding?” This was news to Mary Jo.
“Yeah. We’re…I don’t know, going together I guess.”
“I thought we were friends.” That was all Mary Jo intended the relationship to be.
“Just friends.” Gary’s face fell. His gaze wandered to the carnations he’d brought with him.
“When was the last time we went out on a date?” she asked, crossing her arms. “A real date.”
“You mean to the movies or something?”
“Sure.” Surveying her own memory, she could almost count one hand the number of times he’d actually spent money taking her out. The carnations were an exception.
“We went to the Red Sox game, remember?”
“That was in April,” she reminded him.
Gary frowned. “That long ago? Time certainly flies, doesn’t it?”
“It sure does.”
Gary rubbed his face. “You’re right, Mary Jo. I’ve taken you for granted, haven’t I?”
She was about to say they really didn’t have much of an understanding, after all, did they. Yet a serious relationship with Gary didn’t interest her and, difficult as it was to admit now, never had. She’d used him to block out the loneliness. She’d used him so her parents wouldn’t worry about her. They firmly believed that a woman, especially a young woman, needed a man in her life, so she’d trotted out Gary in order to keep the peace. She wasn’t exactly proud of her motives.
Gary reached for her hand. “How about a movie this afternoon?” he suggested contritely. “We’ll leave right after dinner at your parents’. We can invite anyone who wants to come along, as well. You wouldn’t mind, would you?”
Gary was honestly trying. He couldn’t help it that he wasn’t Evan Dryden. The thought slipped uncensored into her mind.
“A movie sounds like a great idea,” she said firmly. She was going, and furthermore, she was determined to have a wonderful time. Just because Evan Dryden had briefly reentered her life was no reason to wallow in the impossible. He was way out of her league.
“Great.” A smile lighted his boyish face. “Let’s drive on over to your mom and dad’s place now.”
“All right,” Mary Jo said. She felt better already. Her relationship with Gary wasn’t ideal—it wasn’t even close to ideal—but he was her friend. Love and marriage had been built on a whole lot less.
Before they left the house, Gary reached for the bouquet of carnations. Mary Jo blinked in surprise, and he hesitated, looking mildly chagrined. “I thought we’d give these to your mother. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Of course not,” she mumbled, but she did, just a little.
Gary must have realized it because he added, “Next time I’ll bring some just for you.”
“You owe me one, fellow.”
He laughed good-naturedly and with an elaborate display of courtesy, opened the car door for her.
Mary Jo slid into the seat and snapped her seat belt into place. During the brief drive to her parents’ house, less than two miles away she and Gary didn’t speak; instead, they listened companionably to part of a Red Sox game.
Her nephews and nieces were out in the huge side yard, playing a rousing game of volleyball when they arrived. Gary parked his car behind her oldest brother’s station wagon.
“I get a kick out of how much fun your family has together,” he said a bit wistfully.
“We have our share of squabbles, too.” But any disagreement was rare and quickly resolved. Three of her brothers, Jack, Rich and Lonny, were construction electricians like their father. Bill and Mark had both become mechanics and had opened a shop together. They were still struggling to get on their feet financially, but both worked hard. With time, they’d make a go of it; Mary Jo was convinced of that.
“I wonder what your mother decided to cook today,” Gary mused, and Mary Jo swore he all but licked his chops.
Briefly she wondered if Gary bothered to eat during the week, or if he stored up his appetite for Sunday dinners with her family.
“I’ve been introduced to all your brothers, haven’t I?” he asked, frowning slightly as he helped her out of the car.
Mary Jo had to think about that. He must have been. Not every brother came every Sunday, but over the course of the past few months surely Gary had met each of her five brothers.
“I don’t recognize the guy in the red sweatshirt,” he said as they moved up the walk toward the house.
Mary Jo was distracted from answering by her mother, who came rushing down the porch steps, holding out her arms as if it’d been weeks since they’d last seen each other. She wore an apron and a smile that sparkled with delight. “Mary Jo! I’m so glad you’re here.” She hugged her daughter close for a long moment, then turned toward Gary.
“How sweet,” she said, taking the bouquet of carnations and kissing his cheek.
Still smiling, Marianna gestured her attention to her daughter. “You’ll never guess who stopped by!”
It was then that Mary Jo noticed Evan walking toward them. Dressed in jeans and a red sweatshirt, he carried Lenny, her six year old nephew, tucked under one arm, and Robby, his older brother by a year, under the other. Both boys were kicking and laughing.
Evan stopped abruptly when he saw Mary Jo and Gary. The laughter drained out of his eyes.
“Hello,” Gary said, stepping forward. “You must be one of Mary Jo’s brothers. I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Gary Copeland.”
CHAPTER THREE
“WHAT ARE YOU doing here?” Mary Jo demanded the minute she could get Evan alone. With a house full of people, it had taken her the better part of two hours to corner him. As it was, they were standing in the hallway and could be interrupted at any moment.
“If you’ll recall, your mother invited me.”
“The only reason you’re here is to embarrass me.” The entire meal had been an exercise in frustration for Mary Jo. Evan had been the center of attention and had answered a multitude of questions from her parents and brothers. As for the way he’d treated Gary—every time she thought about it, she seethed. Anyone watching them would think Evan and Gary were old pals. Evan had joked and teased with Gary, even going so far as to mention that Mary Jo’s ears grew red whenever she was uncomfortable with a subject.
The second he’d said it, she felt the blood rush to her ears. Soon they were so hot she was afraid Gary might mistake them for a fire engine.
What upset her most was the way Evan had her family eating out of his hand. Everyone acted as though he was some sort of celebrity! Her mother had offered him the first slice of chocolate cake, something Mary Jo could never remember happening. No matter who was seated at the dinner table, her father had always been served first.
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Evan said now, his eyes as innocent as a preschooler’s.
Mary Jo wasn’t fooled. She knew why he’d come—to humiliate her in front of her family. Rarely had she been angrier. Rarely had she felt more frustrated. Tears filled her eyes and blurred her vision.
“You can think what you want of me, but don’t ever laugh at my family,” she said between gritted teeth. She whirled away and had taken all of two steps when he caught hold of her shoulder and yanked her around.
Now he was just as angry. His dark eyes burned with it. They glared at each other, faces tight, hands clenched.
“I would never laugh at your family,” he said evenly.
Mary Jo straightened her shoulders defiantly. “But you look forward to make a laughingstock out of me. Let me give you an example. You knew I wasn’t married, yet you manipulated me into admitting it. You enjoy making me uncomfortable!”
He grinned then, a sly off-center grin. “I figured you owed me that much.”
“I don’t owe you anything!” she snapped.
“Perhaps not,” he agreed. He was laughing at her, had been from the moment she stepped into his high-priced office. Like an unsuspecting fly, she’d carelessly gotten caught in a spider’s web.
“Stay out of my life,” she warned, eyes narrowed.
Evan glared back at her. “Gladly.”
Just then Sally, one of Mary Jo’s favorite nieces, came skipping down the hallway as only a five-year-old can, completely unaware of the tension between her and Evan. Sally stopped when she saw Mary Jo with Evan.
“Hi,” she said, looking up at them.
“Hello, sweetheart,” Mary Jo said, forcing herself to smile. Her mouth felt as if it would crack.
Sally stared at Evan, her eyes wide with curiosity. “Are you going to be my uncle someday?”
“No,” Mary Jo answered immediately, mortified. It seemed that even her own family had turned against her. “Why not?” Sally wanted to know. “I like him better than Gary, and he likes you, too. I can tell. When we were eating dinner, he kept looking at you. Like Daddy looks at Mommy sometimes.”
“I’m dating Gary,” Mary Jo insisted, “and he’s taking me to a movie. You can come if you want.”
Sally shook her head. “Gary likes you, but he doesn’t like kids very much.”
Mary Jo’s heart sank as though it were weighted down with cement blocks. She’d noticed that about Gary herself. He wasn’t accustomed to small children; they made him uncomfortable. Kid noise irritated him. Evan, on the other hand, was an instant hit with both the adults and the kids. Nothing her nieces or nephews said or did seemed to bother him. If anything, he appeared to enjoy himself. He’d played volleyball and baseball with her brothers, chess with her father, and wrestled with the kids—ten against one.
“I hope you marry Evan,” Sally said, her expression serious. Having stated her opinion, she skipped on down to the end of the hallway.
“Mary Jo.”
Before she could say anything else to Evan—although she didn’t know what—Gary came looking for her. He stopped abruptly when he saw who she was with.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt anything,” he said, burying his hands in his pockets, obviously uncomfortable.
“You didn’t,” Mary Jo answered decisively.
“Now, what movie do you think we should see?” She turned her back on Evan and walked toward Gary, knowing in her heart that Sally was right. Evan was the man for her. Not Gary.
“I’M ABSOLUTELY delighted you came,” Jessica Dryden said, opening the front door. Mary Jo stepped into the Dryden home, mildly surprised that a maid or other household help hadn’t greeted her. From what she remembered of the older Drydens’ home, Whispering Willows, the domestic staff had been with them for nearly thirty years.
“Thank you for inviting me,” Mary Jo said, looking around. The house was a sprawling rambler decorated with comfortable modern furniture. An ocean scene graced the wall above the fireplace, but it wasn’t by an artist Mary Jo recognized. Judging by the decor and relaxed atmosphere, Damian and Jessica seemed to be a fairly typical young couple.
“I fixed us a seafood salad,” Jessica said, leading Mary Jo into the large, spotless kitchen. She followed, her eyes taking in everything around her. Jessica and Damian’s home was spacious and attractive, but it was nothing like Whispering Willows.
“You made the salad yourself?” Mary Jo asked. She didn’t mean to sound rude, but she’d assumed Jessica had kitchen help.
“Yes,” Jessica answered pleasantly. “I’m a fairly good cook. At least Damian hasn’t complained. Much,” she added with a dainty laugh. “I thought we’d eat on the patio. That is, if you don’t mind. It’s such a beautiful afternoon. I was working in the garden earlier and I cut us some roses. They’re so lovely this time of year.”
Sliding glass doors led to a brick-lined patio. A round glass table, shaded by a brightly striped umbrella, was set with two pink placemats and linen napkins. A bouquet of yellow roses rested in the middle.
“Would you like iced tea with lunch?” Jessica asked next.
“Please.”
“Sit down and I’ll bring everything out.”
“Let me help.” Mary Jo wasn’t accustomed to being waited on and would have been uncomfortable letting Jessica do all the work. She followed her new friend into the kitchen and carried out the pitcher of tea while Jessica brought the seafood salad.
“Where’s Andy?” Mary Jo asked.
“Napping.” She set the salad bowl and matching plates on the table and glanced at her watch. “We’ll have a solid hour of peace. I hope.”
They sat down together. Jessica gazed at her earnestly and began to speak. “I realize you must think I’m terribly presumptuous to have written you that note, but I’m dying to talk to you.”
“I’ll admit curiosity is what brought me here,” Mary Jo confessed. She’d expected to feel awkward and out of place, but Jessica was so easygoing and unpretentious Mary Jo felt perfectly at ease.
“I’ve known Evan from the time I was a kid. We grew up next door to each other,” Jessica explained.
“When I was a teenager I had the biggest crush on him. I made an absolute fool of myself.” She shook her head wryly.
Mary Jo thought it was no wonder she found herself liking Jessica so much. They obviously had a great deal in common—especially when it came to Evan!
“As you may be aware, I worked with Evan when he represented Earl Kress. Naturally we spent a good deal of time together. Evan and I became good friends and he told me about you.”
Mary Jo nervously smoothed the linen napkin across her lap. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear what Jessica had to say.
“I hurt him deeply, didn’t I?” she asked, keeping her head lowered.
“Yes.” Apparently Jessica didn’t believe in mincing words. “I don’t know what happened between you and the man you left Evan for, but clearly it didn’t work out the way you expected.”
“Few things in life happen the way we expect them to, do they?” Mary Jo answered cryptically.
“No.” Jessica set down her fork. “For a while I was convinced there wasn’t any hope for Damian and me. You see, I loved Damian, but everyone kept insisting Evan and I should be a couple. It gets confusing, so I won’t go into the details, but Damian seemed to think he was doing the noble thing by stepping aside so I could marry Evan. It didn’t seem to matter that I was in love with him. Everything was complicated even more by family expectations. Oh, my heavens,” she said with a heartfelt sigh, “those were bleak days.”
“But you worked everything out.”
“Yes,” Jessica said with a relaxed smile. “It wasn’t easy, but it was sure worth the effort.” She paused, resting her hands in her lap. “This is the reason I asked you to have lunch with me. I realize that what happens between you and Evan is none of my business. And knowing Evan, he’d be furious with me if he realized I was even speaking to you, but…” She stopped and took in a deep breath. “You once shared something very special with Evan. I’m hoping that with a little effort on both your parts you can reclaim it.”
A cloak of sadness seemed to settle over Mary Jo’s shoulders, and when she spoke her words were little more than a whisper. “It isn’t possible anymore.”
“Why isn’t it? I don’t know why you’ve come to Evan. That’s none of my affair. But I do realize how much courage it must have taken. You’re already halfway there, Mary Jo. Don’t give up now.”
Mary Jo wished she could believe that, but it was too late for her and Evan now. Whatever chance they’d had as a couple had been destroyed long ago.
By her own hand.
Her reasons for breaking off the relationship hadn’t changed. She’d done it because she had to, and she’d done it in such a way that Evan would never forgive her. That was part of her plan—for his own sake.
“In some ways I think Evan hates me,” she murmured. Speaking was almost painful; there was a catch in her voice.
“Nonsense,” Jessica insisted. “I don’t believe that for a moment.”
Mary Jo wished she could accept her friend’s words, but Jessica hadn’t been there when Evan suggested she hire another attorney. She hadn’t seen the look in Evan’s eyes when she’d confronted him in the hallway of her family home. Nor had she been there when Mary Jo had introduced him to Gary.
He despised her, and the ironic thing was she couldn’t blame him.
“Just remember what I said,” Jessica urged. “Be patient with Evan, and with yourself. But most of all, don’t give up, not until you’re convinced it’ll never work. I speak from experience, Mary Jo—the rewards are well worth whatever it costs your pride. I can’t imagine my life without Damian and Andy.”
After a brief silence, Mary Jo resolutely changed the subject, and the two women settled down to their meal. Conversation was lighthearted—books and movies they’d both enjoyed, anecdotes about friends and family, opinions about various public figures.
They were continuing a good-natured disagreement over one of the Red Sox pitchers as they carried their plates back inside. Just as they reached the kitchen, the doorbell chimed.
“I’ll get that,” Jessica said.
Smiling, Mary Jo rinsed off the plates and placed them in the dishwasher. She liked Jessica very much. Damian’s wife was open and natural and had a wonderful sense of humor. She was also deeply in love with her husband.
“It’s Evan,” Jessica said, returning to the kitchen. Her voice was strained and tense. Evan stood stiffly behind his sister-in-law. “He dropped off some papers for Damian.”
“Uh, hello, Evan,” Mary Jo said awkwardly.
Jessica’s gaze pleaded with her to believe she hadn’t arranged this accidental meeting.
Andy let out a piercing cry, and Mary Jo decided the toddler had the worst sense of timing of any baby she’d ever known.
Jessica excused herself, and Mary Jo was left standing next to the dishwasher, wishing she were anyplace else in the world.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded the minute Jessica was out of earshot.
“You showed up at my family’s home. Why is it so shocking that I’m at your brother’s house?”
“I was invited,” he reminded her fiercely.
“So was I.”
He looked for a moment as if he didn’t believe her. “Fine. I suppose you and Jessica have decided to become bosom buddies. That sounds like something you’d do.”
Mary Jo didn’t have a response to such a patently unfair remark.
“As it happens,” Evan said in a clear effort to put his anger behind him, “I was meaning to call you this afternoon, anyway.”
“About my parents’ case?” she asked anxiously.
“I’ve talked with my colleague about Adison Investments, and it looks as if it’ll involve some lengthy litigation.”
Mary Jo leaned against the kitchen counter. “Lengthy is another word for expensive, right?”
“I was prepared to discuss my fee with you at the same time,” he continued in a businesslike tone.
“All right,” she said, tensing.
“I can’t see this costing anything less than six or seven thousand.”
She couldn’t help a sharp intake of breath. That amount of money was a fortune to her parents. To her, too.
“It could go even higher.”
Which was another way of saying he wasn’t willing to handle the case. Mary Jo felt the sudden need to sit down. She walked over to the table, pulled out a chair and plunked herself down.
“I’d be willing to do what I can, but—”
“Don’t lie to me, Evan,” she said, fighting back her hurt and frustration. She’d come to him because he had the clout and the influence to help her family. Because he was a damn good attorney. Because she’d trusted him to be honest and ethical.
“I’m not lying.”
“Six or seven thousand dollars is far beyond what my parents or I can afford. That may not be a lot of money to you or your family, but there’s no way we could hope to raise that much in a short amount of time.”
“I’m willing to take payments.”
How very generous of him, she mused sarcastically.
“There might be another way,” he said.
“What?”
“If you agree, of course.”
Mary Jo wasn’t sure she liked the sound of this.
“A summer job. You’re out of school, aren’t you?”
She nodded.
“My secretary, Mrs. Sterling, is taking an extended European vacation this summer. I’d intended to hire a replacement, but as I recall your typing and dictation skills are excellent.”
“My typing skills are minimal and I never took shorthand.”
He grinned as if that didn’t matter. Obviously, what did matter was making her miserable for the next two months.
“But you’re a fast learner. Am I right or wrong?” he pressed.
“Well…I do pick up things up fairly easily.”
“That’s what I thought.” He spread out his hands.
“Now, do you want the job or not?”
CHAPTER FOUR
“MR . DRYDEN’S a real pleasure to work for. I’m sure you won’t have any problems,” Mrs. Sterling said, looking absolutely delighted that Mary Jo would be substituting for her. “Evan’s not the least bit demanding, and I can’t think of even one time when he’s been unreasonable.”
Mary Jo suspected that might not be the case with her.
“I could have retired with my husband, but I enjoy my job so much I decided to stay on,” Mrs. Sterling continued. “I couldn’t bear leaving that young man. In some ways, I think of Evan as my own son.”
“I’m sure he reciprocates your feelings,” Mary Jo said politely. She didn’t know how much longer she could endure listening to this list of Evan’s finer qualities. Not that she doubted they were true. For Mrs. Sterling.
Thus far, Evan had embarrassed her in front of her family and blackmailed her into working for him. She had a problem picturing him as Prince Charming to her Cinderella. As for his being a “real pleasure” to work for, Mary Jo entertained some serious reservations.
“I’m glad you’ve got the opportunity to travel with your husband,” Mary Jo added.
“That’s another thing,” Evan’s secretary gushed.
“What boss would be willing to let his secretary go for two whole months like this? It’s a terrible inconvenience to him. Nevertheless, Mr. Dryden encouraged me to take this trip with Dennis. Why, he insisted I go. I promise you, they don’t come any better than Mr. Dryden. You’re going to thoroughly enjoy your summer.”
Mary Jo’s smile was weak at best.
Evan wanted her under his thumb, and much as she disliked giving in to the pressure, she had no choice. Six or seven thousand dollars would financially cripple her parents. Evan knew that. He was also well aware that her brothers weren’t in any position to help.
With the slump in the economy, new construction starts had been way down. Jack, Rich and Lonny had collected unemployment benefits most of the winter and were just scraping by now. Bill and Mark’s automotive business was barely on its feet.
She was the one who’d gone to Evan for help, and she was the one who’d accepted the financial responsibility. When she’d told her parents she’d be working for Evan, they were both delighted. Her mother seemed to think it was the perfect solution. Whether Evan had planned it this way or not, his employing her had helped smooth her father’s ruffled feathers about Evan’s fee. Apparently, letting her pick up any out-of-pocket expenses was unacceptable to Norman Summerhill, but an exchange of services, so to speak, was fine.
Evan, who could do no wrong as far as her parents were concerned, came out of this smelling like a rose, to use one of her dad’s favorite expressions.
Mary Jo wondered if she was being unfair to assume that Evan was looking for vengeance, for a means of making her life miserable. Perhaps she’d misjudged him.
Perhaps. But she sincerely doubted it.
“I’m taking my lunch now,” Mrs. Sterling said, pulling open the bottom drawer of her desk and taking out her handbag. She hesitated. “You will be all right here by yourself, won’t you?”
“Of course.” Mary Jo made an effort to sound infinitely confident, even if she wasn’t. Evan’s legal assistant, Peter McNichols, was on vacation for the next couple of weeks, so she’d be dealing with Evan entirely on her own.
Mary Jo wasn’t sure she was emotionally prepared for that just yet. The shaky, unsure feeling in the pit of her stomach reminded her of the first time she’d stood in front of a classroom filled with five-year-olds.
No sooner had Mrs. Sterling left when Evan summoned Mary Jo. Grabbing a pen and pad, she hurried into his office, determined to be the best substitute secretary he could have hired.
“Sit down,” he instructed in a brisk, businesslike tone.
Mary Jo complied, sitting on the very edge of the chair, her back ramrod-straight, her shoulders stiff.
He reached for a small, well-worn black book and flipped through the flimsy pages, scrutinizing the names. Mary Jo realized it had to be the typical bachelor’s infamous “black book.” She knew he had a reputation, after all, as one of Boston’s most eligible bachelors. Every six months or so, gossip columns speculated on Evan Dryden’s current love interest. A little black book was exactly what she expected of him.
“Order a dozen red roses to be sent to Catherine Moore,” he said, and rattled off the address. Mary Jo immediately recognized it as being in a prestigious neighborhood. “Suggest we meet for lunch on the twenty-fifth. Around twelve-thirty.” He mentioned one of Boston’s most elegant restaurants. “Have you got that?” he asked.
“I’ll see to it immediately,” Mary Jo said crisply, revealing none of her feelings. Evan had done this on purpose. He was having her arrange a lunch date with one of his many conquests in order to humiliate her, to teach her a lesson. It was his way of telling her that he’d recovered completely from their short-lived romance. There were any number of women who would welcome his attentions.
Well, Mary Jo got the message, loud and clear. She stood, ready to return to her desk.
“There’s more,” Evan said.
Mary Jo sat back down and was barely able to keep up with him as he listed name after name, followed by phone number and address. Each woman was to receive a dozen red roses and an invitation to lunch, with time and place suggested.
When he’d finished, Mary Jo counted six names, each conjuring up a statuesque beauty. No doubt every one of them could run circles around her in looks, talent and, most important, social position.
Mary Jo didn’t realize one man could find that many places to eat with so many different women, but she wisely kept her opinion to herself. If he was hoping she’d give him the satisfaction of a response, he was dead wrong.
She’d just finished ordering the flowers when Damian Dryden stepped into the office.
“Hello,” he said. His eyes widened with surprise at finding her sitting at Mrs. Sterling’s desk.
Mary Jo stood and extended her hand. “I’m Mary Jo Summerhill. We met briefly last week.” She didn’t mention the one other time she’d been introduced to Damian, certain he wouldn’t remember.
It was well over three years ago. Evan and Mary Jo had been sailing, and they’d run into Damian at the marina. Her first impression of Evan’s older brother was that of a shrewd businessman. Damian had seemed stiff and somewhat distant. He’d shown little interest in their cheerful commentary on sailing and the weather. From conversations she’d previously had with Evan regarding his brother, she’d learned he was a serious and hardworking lawyer, and that was certainly how he’d struck her—as someone with no time for fun or frivolity. Currently, he was a Superior Court judge, but he often stopped in at the family law firm. Apparently the two brothers were close friends, as well as brothers.
The man she’d met on the dock that day and the one who stood before her now might have been two entirely different men. Damian remained serious and hardworking, but he was more relaxed now, more apt to smile. Mary Jo was convinced that marriage and fatherhood had made the difference, and she was genuinely happy for him and for Jessica. They seemed perfect for each other.
“You’re working for the firm now?” Damian asked.
“Mrs. Sterling will be traveling in Europe this summer,” Mary Jo explained, “and Evan, uh, offered me the job.” Which was a polite way of saying he’d coerced her into accepting the position.
“But I thought—” Damian stopped abruptly, then grinned. “Is Evan in?”
“Yes. I’ll tell him you’re here.” She reached for the intercom switch and announced Damian, who walked directly into Evan’s office.
Mary Jo was acquainting herself with the filing system when she heard Evan burst out laughing. It really wasn’t fair to assume it had something to do with her, but she couldn’t help believing that was the case.
Damian left a couple of minutes later, smiling. He paused in front of Mary Jo’s desk. “Don’t let him give you a hard time,” he said pleasantly. “My wife mentioned having you over for lunch last week, but she didn’t say you’d accepted a position with the firm.”
“I…I didn’t know it myself at the time,” Mary Jo mumbled. She hadn’t actually agreed to the job until much later, after she’d spent a few days sorting through her limited options.
“I see. Well, it’s good to have you on board, Mary Jo. If you have any questions or concerns, don’t hesitate to talk to Evan. And if he does give you a hard time, just let me know and I’ll straighten him out.”
“Thank you,” she said, and meant it. Although she couldn’t very well see herself complaining to one brother about the other….
She decided to change her attitude about the whole situation. She’d forget about Evan’s probable motives and, instead, start looking at the positive side of this opportunity. She’d be able to help her parents now, without dipping into her own savings. Things could definitely be worse.
Mary Jo didn’t learn just how much worse until Wednesday—the first day she was working on her own. Mrs. Sterling had spent the first two days of the week acquainting Mary Jo with office procedures and the filing system. She’d updated her on Evan’s current cases, and Mary Jo felt reasonably confident she could handle whatever came up.
He called her into his office around eleven. “I need the William Jenkins file.”
“I’ll have it for you right away,” she assured him. Mary Jo returned to the outer office and the filing cabinet, and sorted through the colored tabs. She located three clients named Jenkins, none of whom was William. Her heart started to pound with dread as she hurried to another filing drawer, thinking it might have been misfiled.
Five minutes passed. Evan came out of his office, his movements as brusque and irritated as his voice. “Is there a problem?”
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Debbie Macomber
Ready for Marriage
Debbie Macomber
Dedicated to
Carole Grande and her family
for their loving support
through the years
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
SHE COULD ALWAYS GROVEL at Evan’s feet. Knowing him as well as she did, Mary Jo Summer hill figured he’d probably like that. The very fact that she’d made this appointment—and then had the courage to show up—proved how desperate she was. But she’d had no choice; her parents’ future rested in her hands and she knew of no better attorney to help with this mess than Evan Dryden.
If he’d only agree to help her…
Generally, getting in touch with an old boyfriend wouldn’t raise such anxiety, but Evan was more than just someone she’d dated a few times.
They’d been in love, deeply in love, and had planned to marry. In ways she had yet to fully appreciate, Mary Jo still loved him. Terminating their relationship had nearly devastated her.
And him.
Mary Jo wasn’t proud of the way she’d ended it. Mailing him back the beautiful pearl engagement ring had been cowardly, but she’d known she couldn’t tell him face-to-face. She should have realized Evan would never leave it at that. She’d been a fool to believe he’d take back the ring without confronting her.
He’d come to her angry and hurt, demanding an explanation. It quickly became apparent that he wouldn’t accept the truth, and given no option, Mary Jo concocted a wild story about meeting another teacher and falling in love with him.
Telling such a bold-faced lie had magnified her guilt a hundredfold. But it was the only way she could make Evan believe her. The only way she could extricate herself from his life.
Her lie had worked beautifully, she noted with a twinge of pain. He’d recovered—just the way his mother had said he would. He hadn’t wasted any time getting on with his life, either.
Within a matter of months he was dating again. Pictures of Evan, with Jessica Kellerman at his side, had appeared regularly in the newspaper society pages. Unable to resist knowing more, Mary Jo had researched the Kellerman family. Her investigation had told her everything she needed to know. Jessica would make the perfect Dryden wife. The Kellermans were wealthy and established, unlike the Summer-hills, who didn’t rate so much as a mention in Boston’s social register.
Later the same year, Mary Jo had heard rumors of the extravagant Dryden family wedding. She been out of town that week at a teaching seminar, so she’d missed the newspaper coverage, but talk of the wedding and huge reception that followed had lingered for months. It was called the social event of the year.
That was nearly three years ago. Evan and Jessica were an old married couple by now. For all she knew, they might have already started a family. The twinge of regret became a knot in her stomach. Evan would make a wonderful father. They’d talked of a family, and she remembered how eager he was for children.
This wasn’t exactly the best time for her to reenter his life, but she had no alternative. Her parents’ future depended on Evan.
“Mr. Dryden will see you now,” the receptionist said, breaking into Mary Jo’s thoughts.
Her head shot up and she nearly lost her nerve right then and there. Her heart pounded furiously. In a dead panic she tightened her hold on her purse strap, fighting the urge to dash straight out of her chair and out of the office.
“If you’ll come this way.”
“Of course,” Mary Jo managed, although the words came out in gurglelike sounds, as if she were submerged in ten feet of water.
She followed the receptionist down a wide, plush-carpeted hallway to Evan’s office. His name was on the door, engraved on a gold plate. The receptionist ushered her in, and left.
Mary Jo recognized Evan’s secretary immediately, although they’d never met. Mrs. Sterling was exactly the way he’d described her. Late middle-age. Short and slim, with the energy of a Tasmanian devil. Formidably efficient. He’d claimed that the woman could easily reorganize the world if she had to, and that she’d willingly take on any project he asked of her. She was loyal to a fault.
“Evan asked me to send you right in,” Mrs. Sterling said, leading the way to the closed inner door. She opened it, then asked, “Can I get you a cup of coffee?” Her tone was friendly but unmistakably curious.
“No, thank you.” Mary Jo stepped over the threshold, her heart in her throat. She wondered how she’d feel seeing Evan again after all this time. She’d already decided that a facade was necessary. She planned to approach him as if they were long-lost friends. Casual friends. With a smile, she’d shake his hand, inquire about Jessica and catch up on events in his life.
Now that only a few feet stood between her and the man she loved, Mary Jo found she couldn’t move, barely even breathe.
Nothing, she realized, could have prepared her for the force of these emotions. Within seconds she was drowning in feelings she didn’t know how to handle. She felt swamped and panicky, as if she were going down for the third time.
She conjured up Gary’s face, the man she’d dated off and on for the past few months, but that didn’t help. Next she struggled to come up with some clever comment, some joke, anything. Instead, all she could remember was that the man she’d loved three years ago, loved now, was married to someone else.
Evan sat at his desk, writing; only now did he look up. Their eyes met and for the briefest moment, he seemed to experience the same sense of loss and regret she was feeling. He blinked and the emotion disappeared, wiped out with a mere movement of his eyes.
“Hello, Evan,” she said, amazed at how casual she sounded. “I imagine it’s a surprise to see me after all this time.”
He stood and extended his hand for a perfunctory shake, and when he spoke his voice was crisp and professional. “Mary Jo. It’s good to see you.”
Mary Jo nearly laughed out loud. Evan never did know how to tell a good lie. He was anything but pleased to see her again.
He motioned toward the chair on the other side of his desk. “Sit down.”
She did, gratefully, uncertain how much longer her knees would support her. She set her purse on the carpet and waited for her heart rate to return to normal before she told him the purpose of her visit.
“Did Mary offer you a cup of coffee?”
“Yes. I’m fine, thank you,” she said hurriedly. Her hands were trembling.
Evan sat down again and waited.
“I—guess you’re wondering why I’m here….”
He leaned back in his chair, looking cool and composed. It’d been three long years since she’d last seen him. He hadn’t changed, at least not outwardly. He remained one of the handsomest men she’d ever seen. His hair was as dark as his eyes, the color of rich Swiss chocolate. His features were well defined, almost chiseled, but that was too harsh a word for the finely cut, yet pronounced lines of his face. Walter Dryden, Evan’s father, was a Massachusetts senator, and it was commonly accepted that Evan would one day enter politics himself. He certainly had the smooth, clean-cut good looks for such a calling.
What had made him fall in love with Mary Jo? She’d always wondered, always been fascinated by that question. She suspected it had something to do with being different from the other women he’d dated. She’d amused him, hadn’t taken him too seriously, made him laugh.
“You have something you wanted to discuss with me?” he prompted, his tone revealing the slightest hint of irritation.
“Yes…sorry,” she said, quickly returning her attention to the matter at hand. “My parents…actually, my father…he retired not long ago,” she said, rushing the words together, “and he invested his savings with a financial company, Adison Investments. Have you ever heard of the firm?”
“No, I can’t say that I have.”
This didn’t surprise Mary Jo. Wealthy men like Evan had huge financial portfolios with varied and multiple investments. Her father had taken his life’s savings and entrusted it to a man he’d met and trusted completely.
“Dad invested everything he had with the company,” she continued. “According to the terms of the agreement, he was to receive monthly interest checks. He hasn’t. At first there were a number of plausible excuses, which Dad readily accepted. He wanted to believe this Bill Adison so much that it was easier to accept the excuses than face the truth.”
“Which is?” Evan asked.
“I…I don’t know. That’s why I’m here. My father’s worked thirty-five years as a construction electrician. He’s raised six children, scrimped and saved all that time to put something extra away for his retirement. He wanted to be able to travel with Mom. They’ve dreamed of touring the South Pacific, and now I’m afraid they’re going to be cheated out of everything.”
Evan scribbled down a few notes.
“I’m coming to you because I’m afraid my brothers are about to take things into their own hands. Jack and Rich went to Adison’s office last week and made such a fuss they were almost arrested. It’d destroy my parents if my brothers ended up in jail over this. As far as I can see, the only way to handle it is through an attorney.”
Evan made another note. “Did you bring the papers your father signed?”
“No. I didn’t tell anyone I was coming to see you. I thought if I could convince you to accept this case for my family, I’d bring my parents in and you could discuss the details with them. You need to understand that it’s more than the money. My dad’s embarrassed that he could have trusted such a man. He feels like an old fool.” Her father had become very depressed. Adison Investments had robbed him of far more than his retirement savings. They’d taken his self-confidence and left him feeling vulnerable and inept.
“There are strict laws governing investments in this state.”
Anxious to hear what he had to say, Mary Jo leaned forward in her chair. This was the very reason she’d swallowed her pride and come to Evan. He had the knowledge and political clout to be effective in ways her family never could.
“Then you can help us?” she asked eagerly. Evan’s hesitation sent her heart plummeting. “I’ll be happy to pay you whatever your fee is,” she added, as if that was his sole concern. “I wouldn’t expect you to charge less than you’d receive from anyone else.”
Evan stood and walked over to the window, his back to her. “Our firm specializes in corporate law.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t take this case, does it?”
Evan clenched his hands at his sides, then flexed his fingers. “No, but these sorts of cases have a tendency to become involved. You may end up having to sue.”
“My family is willing to do whatever to takes to settle this matter,” she said with a stubborn tilt to her jaw.
“Lawsuits don’t come cheap,” he warned, turning around to face her.
“I don’t care and neither do my brothers. True, they don’t know I made an appointment to see you, but once I tell them, I’m sure they’ll be willing to chip in whatever they can to cover your fee.” They wouldn’t be able to afford much. Mary Jo was the youngest of six and the only girl. Her brothers were all married and raising young families. There never seemed to be enough money to go around. The burden of the expense would fall on her shoulders, but Mary Jo readily accepted that.
“You’re sure you want me to handle this?” Evan asked, frowning.
“Positive. There isn’t anyone I trust more,” she said simply. Her eyes met his and she refused to look away.
“I could recommend another attorney, someone far more qualified in the area of investment fraud—”
“No,” she broke in. “I don’t trust anyone but you.” She hadn’t meant to tell him that and, embarrassed, quickly lowered her gaze.
He didn’t say anything for what seemed like a very long time. Mary Jo held her breath, waiting. If he expected her to plead, she’d do it willingly. It was fair compensation for the appalling way she’d treated him. “Please,” she added, her voice low and trembling.
Evan’s shoulders lifted with a drawn-out sigh. “Before I decide, fill me in on what you’ve been doing for the past three years.”
Mary Jo hadn’t anticipated this, wasn’t prepared to detail her life. “I’m still teaching.”
“Kindergarten?”
“Yes,” she said enthusiastically. She loved her job. “Five-year-olds are still my favorites.”
“I notice you’re not wearing a wedding band.”
Her gaze automatically fell to her ring finger, and she pinched her lips tightly together.
“So you didn’t marry lover boy, after all.”
“No.”
“What happened?” he asked. He seemed almost to enjoy questioning her. Mary Jo felt as though she were on the witness stand being cross-examined.
She shrugged, not wanting to become trapped in a growing web of untruths. She’d regretted that stupid lie every day for the past three years.
“It didn’t work out?” he suggested.
This was agony for her. “You’re right. It didn’t work out.”
He grinned then, for the first time, as if this information delighted him.
“Are you seeing someone now?”
“I don’t believe that information’s necessary to the case. You’re my attorney, not my confessor.”
“I’m nothing to you,” he said and his words were sharp. “At least not yet.”
“Will you take the case or won’t you?” she demanded.
“I haven’t decided yet.”
He did want her to grovel. And they said hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Apparently women didn’t hold the patent on that.
“Gary Copeland,” she said stiffly, without emotion. “Gary and I’ve been seeing each other for several months.”
“Another teacher?”
“He’s a fireman.”
Evan nodded thoughtfully.
“Will you or won’t you help my parents?” she asked again, growing tired of this silly game.
He was silent for a moment, then said abruptly, “All right. I’ll make some inquiries and learn what I can about Adison Investments.”
Mary Jo was so relieved and grateful she sagged in her chair.
“Make an appointment with Mrs. Sterling for next week, and bring your father in with you. Friday would be best. I’ll be in court most of the week.”
“Thank you, Evan,” she whispered, blinking rapidly in an effort to fight back tears.
She stood, eager now to escape. Resisting the urge to hug him, she hurried out of his office, past Mrs. Sterling and into the hallway. She was in such a blind rush she nearly collided with a woman holding a toddler in her arms.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Mary Jo said, catching herself.
“I’m afraid I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“No problem,” the other woman said with a friendly smile. She held the child protectively against her hip. The little boy, dressed in a blue-and-white sailor suit, looked up at her with eyes that were dark and solemn. Dark as rich Swiss chocolate.
Evan’s eyes.
Mary Jo stared at the tall lovely woman. This was Jessica, Evan’s wife, and the baby in her arms was Evan’s son. The flash of pain nearly paralyzed her.
“I shouldn’t have been standing so close to the door,” Jessica went on to say. “My husband insisted he was taking us to lunch, and asked me to meet him here.”
“You must be Jessica Dryden,” Mary Jo said, finding the strength to offer her a genuine smile. She couldn’t take her eyes off Evan’s son. He now wore a cheerful grin and waved small chubby arms. If circumstances had been different, this child might have been her own. The void inside her widened; she’d never felt so bleak, so empty.
“This is Andy.” Jessica did a small curtsy with her son in her arms.
“Hello, Andy.” Mary Jo gave him her hand, and like a proper gentleman, he took it and promptly tried to place it in his mouth.
Jessica laughed softly. “I’m afraid he’s teething. Everything goes to his mouth first.” She walked with Mary Jo toward the exit, bouncing the impatient toddler against her hip. “You look familiar,” she said casually. “ Do I know you?”
“I don’t think so. My name’s Mary Jo Summerhill.”
Jessica’s face went blank, then recognition swept into her eyes as her smile slowly evaporated. Any censure, however, was quickly disguised.
“It was nice meeting you,” Mary Jo said quickly, speeding up as they neared the door.
“Evan’s mentioned you,” Jessica said.
Mary Jo stopped suddenly. “He has?” She couldn’t help it. Curiosity got the better of her.
“Yes. He…thought very highly of you.”
That Jessica used the past tense didn’t escape Mary Jo. “He’s a top-notch attorney.”
“He’s wonderful,” Jessica agreed. “By the way, I understand we have a mutual friend. Earl Kress.”
Earl had been a volunteer at Mary Jo’s school. He’d tutored slow readers, and she’d admired his patience and persistence, and especially his sense of humor. The children loved him.
Earl mentioned Evan’s name at every opportunity. He seemed to idolize Evan for taking on his civil suit against the school district—and winning.
Earl had graduated from high school functionally illiterate. Because he was a talented athlete, he’d been passed from one grade to the next. Sports were important to the schools, and the teachers were coerced into giving him passing grades. Earl had been awarded a full-ride college scholarship but suffered a serious knee injury in football training camp two weeks after he arrived. Within a couple of months, he’d flunked out of college. In a landmark case, Earl had sued the school district for his education. Evan had been his attorney.
The case had been in the headlines for weeks. During the trial, Mary Jo had been glued to the television every night, anxious for news. As a teacher, she was, of course, concerned with this kind of crucial education issue. But in all honesty, her interest had less to do with Earl Kress than with Evan. Following the case gave her the opportunity to see him again, even if it was only on a television screen and for a minute or two at a time.
She’d cheered when she heard that Earl had won his case.
In the kind of irony that life sometimes tosses, Mary Jo met Earl about a year later. He was attending college classes and volunteering part-time as a tutor at the grade school. They’d become quick friends. She admired the young man and missed him now that he’d returned to the same university where he’d once failed. Again he’d gone on a scholarship, but this time it was an academic one.
“Yes, I know Earl,” Mary Jo said.
“He mentioned working with you to Evan. We were surprised to learn you weren’t married.”
Evan knew! He’d made her squirm and forced her to tell him the truth when all along he’d been perfectly aware that she was still single. Mary Jo’s hands knotted at her sides. He’d taken a little too much delight in squeezing the information out of her.
“Darling,” a husky male voice said from behind Mary Jo. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long.” He walked over to Jessica, lifted Andy out of her arms and kissed her on the cheek.
Mary Jo’s jaw fell open as she stared at the couple.
“Have you met my husband?” Jessica asked. “Damian, this is Mary Jo Summerhill.”
“How…hello.” Mary Jo was so flustered she could barely think.
Evan wasn’t married to Jessica. His brother was.
CHAPTER TWO
“CAN YOU HELP US ?” Norman Summerhill asked Evan anxiously.
Mary Jo had brought both her parents. Evan was reading over the agreement her father had signed with Adison Investments. With a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, she noticed he was frowning. The frown deepened the longer he read.
“What’s wrong?” Mary Jo asked.
Her mother hands were clenched so tightly that her fingers were white. Financial affairs confused and upset Marianna Summerhill. From the time Marianna had married Norman, she’d been a housewife and mother, leaving the financial details of their lives to her husband.
Mary Jo was fiercely proud of her family. Her father might not be a United States senator, but he was an honest and honorable man. He’d dedicated his life to his wife and family, and worked hard through the years to provide for them. Mary Jo had been raised firmly rooted in her parents’ love for each other and for their children.
Although close to sixty, her mother remained a beautiful woman, inside and out. Mary Jo had inherited her dark hair and brown eyes and her petite five-foot-four-inch frame. But the prominent high cheek-bones and square jaw were undeniably from her father’s side of the family. Her brothers towered above her and, like her parents, were delighted their youngest sibling was a girl.
That affection was returned. Mary Jo adored her older brothers, but she knew them and their quirks and foibles well. Living with five boys—all very different personalities—had given her plenty of practice in deciphering the male psyche. Evan might have come from a rich, upper-crust family, but he was a man, and she’d been able to read him like a book from the first. She believed that her ability to see through his playboy facade was what had originally attracted her to him. That attraction had grown and blossomed until…
“Come by for Sunday dinner. We eat about three, and we’d enjoy getting to know you better,” her mother was saying. “It’d be an honor to have you at our table.”
The words cut into Mary Jo’s thoughts like a scythe through wheat. “I’m sure Evan’s too busy for that, Mother,” she blurted out.
“I appreciate the invitation,” Evan said, ignoring Mary Jo.
“You’re welcome to stop off at the house any time you like, young man,” her father added, sending his daughter a glare of disapproval.
“Thank you. I’ll keep it in mind,” Evan said absently as he returned his attention to the investment papers. “If you don’t object, I’d like an attorney friend of mine to read this over. I should have an answer for you in the next week or so.”
Her father nodded. “You do whatever you think is necessary. And don’t you worry about your fee.”
“Dad, I already told you! I’ve talked to Evan about that. This is my gift to you.”
“Nonsense,” her father argued, scowling. “I was the one who was fool enough to trust this shyster. If anyone pays Evan’s fee, it’ll be me.”
“We don’t need to worry about that right now,” Evan interjected smoothly. “We’ll work out the details of my bill later.”
“That sounds fair to me.” Norman Summerhill was quick to agree, obviously eager to put the subject behind him. Her father had carried his own weight all his life and wouldn’t take kindly to Mary Jo’s accepting responsibility for this debt. She hoped she could find a means of doing so without damaging his formidable pride.
“Thank you for your time,” she said to Evan, desperate to be on her way.
“It was good to see you again, young man,” Norman said expansively, shaking hands with Evan. “No need to make yourself scarce. You’re welcome for dinner any Sunday of the year.”
“Daddy, please,” Mary Jo groaned under her breath. The last thing she wanted was to have Evan show up for Sunday dinner with her five brothers and their assorted families. He wasn’t accustomed to all the noise and chatter that invariably went on during meals. Her one dinner with his family had sufficiently pointed out the glaring differences between their upbringings.
“Before you leave,” Evan said to Mary Jo, “my brother asked me to give you this. I believe it’s from Jessica.” He handed her a sealed envelope.
“Thank you,” Mary Jo mumbled. For the better part of their meeting, he’d avoiding speaking to her. He hadn’t been rude or tactless, just businesslike and distant. At least toward her. With her parents, he’d been warm and gracious. She doubted they’d even recognized the subtle difference between how he treated them and how he treated her.
MARY JO DIDN’T OPEN the envelope until after she’d arrived back at her cozy duplex apartment. She stared at it several moments, wondering what Jessica Dryden could possibly have to say to her.
No need to guess, she decided, and tore open the envelope.
Dear Mary Jo,
I just wanted you to know how much I enjoyed meeting you. When I asked Evan why you were in to see him, he clammed right up. I should have known better—prying information out of Evan is even more difficult than it is with Damian.
From your reaction the other day, I could tell you assumed I was married to Evan. Damian and I got quite a chuckle out of that. You see, just about everyone tried to match me up with Evan, but I only had eyes for Damian. If you’re free some afternoon, give me a call. Perhaps we could have lunch.
Warmest regards,
Jessica
Jessica had written her telephone number beneath her signature.
Mary Jo couldn’t understand why Damian’s wife would seek her out. They were virtual strangers. Perhaps Jessica knew something Mary Jo didn’t—something about Evan. The only way to find out was to call.
Although Mary Jo wasn’t entirely sure she was doing the right thing, she reached for the phone.
Jessica Dryden answered almost immediately.
“Mary Jo! Oh, I’m so glad to hear from you,” she said immediately. “I wondered what you’d think about my note. I don’t usually do that sort of thing, but I was just so delighted you’d been to see Evan.”
“You said he’s mentioned me?”
“A number of times. Look, why don’t you come over one afternoon soon and we can talk? You’re not teaching right now, are you?”
“School let out a week ago,” Mary Jo concurred.
“That’s what I thought. Could you stop by next week? I’d really enjoy talking to you.”
Mary Jo hesitated. Her first introduction to Evan’s family had been a catastrophe, and she’d come away knowing their love didn’t stand a chance. A second sortie might prove equally disastrous.
“I’d like that very much,” Mary Jo found herself saying. If Evan had been talking about her, she wanted to know what he’d said.
“Great. How about next Tuesday afternoon? Come for lunch and we can sit on the patio and have a nice long chat.”
“That sounds great,” Mary Jo said.
It wasn’t until later that evening, when she was filling a croissant with a curried shrimp mixture for dinner, that Mary Jo stopped to wonder exactly why Jessica was so eager to “chat” with her.
SHE LIKED GARY . She really did. Though why she felt it was necessary to remind herself of this, she didn’t know. She didn’t even want to know.
It had been like this from the moment she’d broken off her relationship with Evan. She’d found fault with every man she’d dated. No matter how attractive he was. Or how successful. How witty, how considerate…it didn’t matter.
Gary was very nice, she repeated to herself.
Unfortunately he bored her to tears. He talked about his golf game, his bowling score and his prowess on the handball court. Never anything that was important to her. But his biggest fault, she’d realized early on in their relationship was that he wasn’t Evan.
They’d dated infrequently since the beginning of the year. To be honest, Mary Jo was beginning to think that, to Gary, her biggest attraction was her mother’s cooking. Invariably, Gary stopped by early Sunday afternoon, just as she was about to leave for her parents’ home. It’d happened three out of the past five weeks. She strongly suspected he’d been on duty at the fire hall the two weeks he’d missed.
“You look especially lovely this afternoon,” he said when she opened her front door to him now. He held out a bouquet of pink carnations, which she took with a smile, pleased by his thoughtfulness.
“Hello, Gary.”
He kissed her cheek, but it seemed perfunctory, as if he felt some display of affection was expected of him. “How’ve you been?” he muttered, easing himself into the old rocking chair next to the fireplace.
Although Mary Jo’s rooms were small, she’d thoughtfully and carefully decorated each one. The living room had an Early American look. Her brother Lonny, who did beautiful woodwork, had carved her an eagle for Christmas, which she’d hung above the fireplace. In addition to her rocking chair, she had a small sofa and an old oak chest that she’d restored herself. Her mother had crocheted an afghan for the back of the sofa in a patriotic blend of red, white and blue.
Her kitchen was little more than a wide hallway that led to a compact dining space in a window alcove. Mary Jo loved to sit there in the morning sunshine with a cup of coffee and a book.
“You’re lucky, you know,” Gary said, looking around as if seeing the room for the first time.
“How do you mean?”
“Well, first off, you don’t have to work in the summer.”
This was an old argument and Mary Jo was tired of hearing it. True, school wasn’t in session for those two and a half months, she didn’t spend them lolling on a beach. This was the first time in years that she wasn’t attending courses to upgrade her skills.
“You’ve got the time you need to fix up this place the way you want it,” he went on. “You have real decorating talent, you know. My place is a mess, but then I’m only there three or four days out of the week, if that.”
If he was hinting that he’d like her to help him decorate his place, she refused to take the bait.
“Are you going over to your parents’ this afternoon?” Gary asked cheerfully. “I don’t mean to horn in, but your family doesn’t seem to mind, and the two of us have an understanding, don’t we?”
“An understanding?” This was news to Mary Jo.
“Yeah. We’re…I don’t know, going together I guess.”
“I thought we were friends.” That was all Mary Jo intended the relationship to be.
“Just friends.” Gary’s face fell. His gaze wandered to the carnations he’d brought with him.
“When was the last time we went out on a date?” she asked, crossing her arms. “A real date.”
“You mean to the movies or something?”
“Sure.” Surveying her own memory, she could almost count one hand the number of times he’d actually spent money taking her out. The carnations were an exception.
“We went to the Red Sox game, remember?”
“That was in April,” she reminded him.
Gary frowned. “That long ago? Time certainly flies, doesn’t it?”
“It sure does.”
Gary rubbed his face. “You’re right, Mary Jo. I’ve taken you for granted, haven’t I?”
She was about to say they really didn’t have much of an understanding, after all, did they. Yet a serious relationship with Gary didn’t interest her and, difficult as it was to admit now, never had. She’d used him to block out the loneliness. She’d used him so her parents wouldn’t worry about her. They firmly believed that a woman, especially a young woman, needed a man in her life, so she’d trotted out Gary in order to keep the peace. She wasn’t exactly proud of her motives.
Gary reached for her hand. “How about a movie this afternoon?” he suggested contritely. “We’ll leave right after dinner at your parents’. We can invite anyone who wants to come along, as well. You wouldn’t mind, would you?”
Gary was honestly trying. He couldn’t help it that he wasn’t Evan Dryden. The thought slipped uncensored into her mind.
“A movie sounds like a great idea,” she said firmly. She was going, and furthermore, she was determined to have a wonderful time. Just because Evan Dryden had briefly reentered her life was no reason to wallow in the impossible. He was way out of her league.
“Great.” A smile lighted his boyish face. “Let’s drive on over to your mom and dad’s place now.”
“All right,” Mary Jo said. She felt better already. Her relationship with Gary wasn’t ideal—it wasn’t even close to ideal—but he was her friend. Love and marriage had been built on a whole lot less.
Before they left the house, Gary reached for the bouquet of carnations. Mary Jo blinked in surprise, and he hesitated, looking mildly chagrined. “I thought we’d give these to your mother. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Of course not,” she mumbled, but she did, just a little.
Gary must have realized it because he added, “Next time I’ll bring some just for you.”
“You owe me one, fellow.”
He laughed good-naturedly and with an elaborate display of courtesy, opened the car door for her.
Mary Jo slid into the seat and snapped her seat belt into place. During the brief drive to her parents’ house, less than two miles away she and Gary didn’t speak; instead, they listened companionably to part of a Red Sox game.
Her nephews and nieces were out in the huge side yard, playing a rousing game of volleyball when they arrived. Gary parked his car behind her oldest brother’s station wagon.
“I get a kick out of how much fun your family has together,” he said a bit wistfully.
“We have our share of squabbles, too.” But any disagreement was rare and quickly resolved. Three of her brothers, Jack, Rich and Lonny, were construction electricians like their father. Bill and Mark had both become mechanics and had opened a shop together. They were still struggling to get on their feet financially, but both worked hard. With time, they’d make a go of it; Mary Jo was convinced of that.
“I wonder what your mother decided to cook today,” Gary mused, and Mary Jo swore he all but licked his chops.
Briefly she wondered if Gary bothered to eat during the week, or if he stored up his appetite for Sunday dinners with her family.
“I’ve been introduced to all your brothers, haven’t I?” he asked, frowning slightly as he helped her out of the car.
Mary Jo had to think about that. He must have been. Not every brother came every Sunday, but over the course of the past few months surely Gary had met each of her five brothers.
“I don’t recognize the guy in the red sweatshirt,” he said as they moved up the walk toward the house.
Mary Jo was distracted from answering by her mother, who came rushing down the porch steps, holding out her arms as if it’d been weeks since they’d last seen each other. She wore an apron and a smile that sparkled with delight. “Mary Jo! I’m so glad you’re here.” She hugged her daughter close for a long moment, then turned toward Gary.
“How sweet,” she said, taking the bouquet of carnations and kissing his cheek.
Still smiling, Marianna gestured her attention to her daughter. “You’ll never guess who stopped by!”
It was then that Mary Jo noticed Evan walking toward them. Dressed in jeans and a red sweatshirt, he carried Lenny, her six year old nephew, tucked under one arm, and Robby, his older brother by a year, under the other. Both boys were kicking and laughing.
Evan stopped abruptly when he saw Mary Jo and Gary. The laughter drained out of his eyes.
“Hello,” Gary said, stepping forward. “You must be one of Mary Jo’s brothers. I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Gary Copeland.”
CHAPTER THREE
“WHAT ARE YOU doing here?” Mary Jo demanded the minute she could get Evan alone. With a house full of people, it had taken her the better part of two hours to corner him. As it was, they were standing in the hallway and could be interrupted at any moment.
“If you’ll recall, your mother invited me.”
“The only reason you’re here is to embarrass me.” The entire meal had been an exercise in frustration for Mary Jo. Evan had been the center of attention and had answered a multitude of questions from her parents and brothers. As for the way he’d treated Gary—every time she thought about it, she seethed. Anyone watching them would think Evan and Gary were old pals. Evan had joked and teased with Gary, even going so far as to mention that Mary Jo’s ears grew red whenever she was uncomfortable with a subject.
The second he’d said it, she felt the blood rush to her ears. Soon they were so hot she was afraid Gary might mistake them for a fire engine.
What upset her most was the way Evan had her family eating out of his hand. Everyone acted as though he was some sort of celebrity! Her mother had offered him the first slice of chocolate cake, something Mary Jo could never remember happening. No matter who was seated at the dinner table, her father had always been served first.
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Evan said now, his eyes as innocent as a preschooler’s.
Mary Jo wasn’t fooled. She knew why he’d come—to humiliate her in front of her family. Rarely had she been angrier. Rarely had she felt more frustrated. Tears filled her eyes and blurred her vision.
“You can think what you want of me, but don’t ever laugh at my family,” she said between gritted teeth. She whirled away and had taken all of two steps when he caught hold of her shoulder and yanked her around.
Now he was just as angry. His dark eyes burned with it. They glared at each other, faces tight, hands clenched.
“I would never laugh at your family,” he said evenly.
Mary Jo straightened her shoulders defiantly. “But you look forward to make a laughingstock out of me. Let me give you an example. You knew I wasn’t married, yet you manipulated me into admitting it. You enjoy making me uncomfortable!”
He grinned then, a sly off-center grin. “I figured you owed me that much.”
“I don’t owe you anything!” she snapped.
“Perhaps not,” he agreed. He was laughing at her, had been from the moment she stepped into his high-priced office. Like an unsuspecting fly, she’d carelessly gotten caught in a spider’s web.
“Stay out of my life,” she warned, eyes narrowed.
Evan glared back at her. “Gladly.”
Just then Sally, one of Mary Jo’s favorite nieces, came skipping down the hallway as only a five-year-old can, completely unaware of the tension between her and Evan. Sally stopped when she saw Mary Jo with Evan.
“Hi,” she said, looking up at them.
“Hello, sweetheart,” Mary Jo said, forcing herself to smile. Her mouth felt as if it would crack.
Sally stared at Evan, her eyes wide with curiosity. “Are you going to be my uncle someday?”
“No,” Mary Jo answered immediately, mortified. It seemed that even her own family had turned against her. “Why not?” Sally wanted to know. “I like him better than Gary, and he likes you, too. I can tell. When we were eating dinner, he kept looking at you. Like Daddy looks at Mommy sometimes.”
“I’m dating Gary,” Mary Jo insisted, “and he’s taking me to a movie. You can come if you want.”
Sally shook her head. “Gary likes you, but he doesn’t like kids very much.”
Mary Jo’s heart sank as though it were weighted down with cement blocks. She’d noticed that about Gary herself. He wasn’t accustomed to small children; they made him uncomfortable. Kid noise irritated him. Evan, on the other hand, was an instant hit with both the adults and the kids. Nothing her nieces or nephews said or did seemed to bother him. If anything, he appeared to enjoy himself. He’d played volleyball and baseball with her brothers, chess with her father, and wrestled with the kids—ten against one.
“I hope you marry Evan,” Sally said, her expression serious. Having stated her opinion, she skipped on down to the end of the hallway.
“Mary Jo.”
Before she could say anything else to Evan—although she didn’t know what—Gary came looking for her. He stopped abruptly when he saw who she was with.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt anything,” he said, burying his hands in his pockets, obviously uncomfortable.
“You didn’t,” Mary Jo answered decisively.
“Now, what movie do you think we should see?” She turned her back on Evan and walked toward Gary, knowing in her heart that Sally was right. Evan was the man for her. Not Gary.
“I’M ABSOLUTELY delighted you came,” Jessica Dryden said, opening the front door. Mary Jo stepped into the Dryden home, mildly surprised that a maid or other household help hadn’t greeted her. From what she remembered of the older Drydens’ home, Whispering Willows, the domestic staff had been with them for nearly thirty years.
“Thank you for inviting me,” Mary Jo said, looking around. The house was a sprawling rambler decorated with comfortable modern furniture. An ocean scene graced the wall above the fireplace, but it wasn’t by an artist Mary Jo recognized. Judging by the decor and relaxed atmosphere, Damian and Jessica seemed to be a fairly typical young couple.
“I fixed us a seafood salad,” Jessica said, leading Mary Jo into the large, spotless kitchen. She followed, her eyes taking in everything around her. Jessica and Damian’s home was spacious and attractive, but it was nothing like Whispering Willows.
“You made the salad yourself?” Mary Jo asked. She didn’t mean to sound rude, but she’d assumed Jessica had kitchen help.
“Yes,” Jessica answered pleasantly. “I’m a fairly good cook. At least Damian hasn’t complained. Much,” she added with a dainty laugh. “I thought we’d eat on the patio. That is, if you don’t mind. It’s such a beautiful afternoon. I was working in the garden earlier and I cut us some roses. They’re so lovely this time of year.”
Sliding glass doors led to a brick-lined patio. A round glass table, shaded by a brightly striped umbrella, was set with two pink placemats and linen napkins. A bouquet of yellow roses rested in the middle.
“Would you like iced tea with lunch?” Jessica asked next.
“Please.”
“Sit down and I’ll bring everything out.”
“Let me help.” Mary Jo wasn’t accustomed to being waited on and would have been uncomfortable letting Jessica do all the work. She followed her new friend into the kitchen and carried out the pitcher of tea while Jessica brought the seafood salad.
“Where’s Andy?” Mary Jo asked.
“Napping.” She set the salad bowl and matching plates on the table and glanced at her watch. “We’ll have a solid hour of peace. I hope.”
They sat down together. Jessica gazed at her earnestly and began to speak. “I realize you must think I’m terribly presumptuous to have written you that note, but I’m dying to talk to you.”
“I’ll admit curiosity is what brought me here,” Mary Jo confessed. She’d expected to feel awkward and out of place, but Jessica was so easygoing and unpretentious Mary Jo felt perfectly at ease.
“I’ve known Evan from the time I was a kid. We grew up next door to each other,” Jessica explained.
“When I was a teenager I had the biggest crush on him. I made an absolute fool of myself.” She shook her head wryly.
Mary Jo thought it was no wonder she found herself liking Jessica so much. They obviously had a great deal in common—especially when it came to Evan!
“As you may be aware, I worked with Evan when he represented Earl Kress. Naturally we spent a good deal of time together. Evan and I became good friends and he told me about you.”
Mary Jo nervously smoothed the linen napkin across her lap. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear what Jessica had to say.
“I hurt him deeply, didn’t I?” she asked, keeping her head lowered.
“Yes.” Apparently Jessica didn’t believe in mincing words. “I don’t know what happened between you and the man you left Evan for, but clearly it didn’t work out the way you expected.”
“Few things in life happen the way we expect them to, do they?” Mary Jo answered cryptically.
“No.” Jessica set down her fork. “For a while I was convinced there wasn’t any hope for Damian and me. You see, I loved Damian, but everyone kept insisting Evan and I should be a couple. It gets confusing, so I won’t go into the details, but Damian seemed to think he was doing the noble thing by stepping aside so I could marry Evan. It didn’t seem to matter that I was in love with him. Everything was complicated even more by family expectations. Oh, my heavens,” she said with a heartfelt sigh, “those were bleak days.”
“But you worked everything out.”
“Yes,” Jessica said with a relaxed smile. “It wasn’t easy, but it was sure worth the effort.” She paused, resting her hands in her lap. “This is the reason I asked you to have lunch with me. I realize that what happens between you and Evan is none of my business. And knowing Evan, he’d be furious with me if he realized I was even speaking to you, but…” She stopped and took in a deep breath. “You once shared something very special with Evan. I’m hoping that with a little effort on both your parts you can reclaim it.”
A cloak of sadness seemed to settle over Mary Jo’s shoulders, and when she spoke her words were little more than a whisper. “It isn’t possible anymore.”
“Why isn’t it? I don’t know why you’ve come to Evan. That’s none of my affair. But I do realize how much courage it must have taken. You’re already halfway there, Mary Jo. Don’t give up now.”
Mary Jo wished she could believe that, but it was too late for her and Evan now. Whatever chance they’d had as a couple had been destroyed long ago.
By her own hand.
Her reasons for breaking off the relationship hadn’t changed. She’d done it because she had to, and she’d done it in such a way that Evan would never forgive her. That was part of her plan—for his own sake.
“In some ways I think Evan hates me,” she murmured. Speaking was almost painful; there was a catch in her voice.
“Nonsense,” Jessica insisted. “I don’t believe that for a moment.”
Mary Jo wished she could accept her friend’s words, but Jessica hadn’t been there when Evan suggested she hire another attorney. She hadn’t seen the look in Evan’s eyes when she’d confronted him in the hallway of her family home. Nor had she been there when Mary Jo had introduced him to Gary.
He despised her, and the ironic thing was she couldn’t blame him.
“Just remember what I said,” Jessica urged. “Be patient with Evan, and with yourself. But most of all, don’t give up, not until you’re convinced it’ll never work. I speak from experience, Mary Jo—the rewards are well worth whatever it costs your pride. I can’t imagine my life without Damian and Andy.”
After a brief silence, Mary Jo resolutely changed the subject, and the two women settled down to their meal. Conversation was lighthearted—books and movies they’d both enjoyed, anecdotes about friends and family, opinions about various public figures.
They were continuing a good-natured disagreement over one of the Red Sox pitchers as they carried their plates back inside. Just as they reached the kitchen, the doorbell chimed.
“I’ll get that,” Jessica said.
Smiling, Mary Jo rinsed off the plates and placed them in the dishwasher. She liked Jessica very much. Damian’s wife was open and natural and had a wonderful sense of humor. She was also deeply in love with her husband.
“It’s Evan,” Jessica said, returning to the kitchen. Her voice was strained and tense. Evan stood stiffly behind his sister-in-law. “He dropped off some papers for Damian.”
“Uh, hello, Evan,” Mary Jo said awkwardly.
Jessica’s gaze pleaded with her to believe she hadn’t arranged this accidental meeting.
Andy let out a piercing cry, and Mary Jo decided the toddler had the worst sense of timing of any baby she’d ever known.
Jessica excused herself, and Mary Jo was left standing next to the dishwasher, wishing she were anyplace else in the world.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded the minute Jessica was out of earshot.
“You showed up at my family’s home. Why is it so shocking that I’m at your brother’s house?”
“I was invited,” he reminded her fiercely.
“So was I.”
He looked for a moment as if he didn’t believe her. “Fine. I suppose you and Jessica have decided to become bosom buddies. That sounds like something you’d do.”
Mary Jo didn’t have a response to such a patently unfair remark.
“As it happens,” Evan said in a clear effort to put his anger behind him, “I was meaning to call you this afternoon, anyway.”
“About my parents’ case?” she asked anxiously.
“I’ve talked with my colleague about Adison Investments, and it looks as if it’ll involve some lengthy litigation.”
Mary Jo leaned against the kitchen counter. “Lengthy is another word for expensive, right?”
“I was prepared to discuss my fee with you at the same time,” he continued in a businesslike tone.
“All right,” she said, tensing.
“I can’t see this costing anything less than six or seven thousand.”
She couldn’t help a sharp intake of breath. That amount of money was a fortune to her parents. To her, too.
“It could go even higher.”
Which was another way of saying he wasn’t willing to handle the case. Mary Jo felt the sudden need to sit down. She walked over to the table, pulled out a chair and plunked herself down.
“I’d be willing to do what I can, but—”
“Don’t lie to me, Evan,” she said, fighting back her hurt and frustration. She’d come to him because he had the clout and the influence to help her family. Because he was a damn good attorney. Because she’d trusted him to be honest and ethical.
“I’m not lying.”
“Six or seven thousand dollars is far beyond what my parents or I can afford. That may not be a lot of money to you or your family, but there’s no way we could hope to raise that much in a short amount of time.”
“I’m willing to take payments.”
How very generous of him, she mused sarcastically.
“There might be another way,” he said.
“What?”
“If you agree, of course.”
Mary Jo wasn’t sure she liked the sound of this.
“A summer job. You’re out of school, aren’t you?”
She nodded.
“My secretary, Mrs. Sterling, is taking an extended European vacation this summer. I’d intended to hire a replacement, but as I recall your typing and dictation skills are excellent.”
“My typing skills are minimal and I never took shorthand.”
He grinned as if that didn’t matter. Obviously, what did matter was making her miserable for the next two months.
“But you’re a fast learner. Am I right or wrong?” he pressed.
“Well…I do pick up things up fairly easily.”
“That’s what I thought.” He spread out his hands.
“Now, do you want the job or not?”
CHAPTER FOUR
“MR . DRYDEN’S a real pleasure to work for. I’m sure you won’t have any problems,” Mrs. Sterling said, looking absolutely delighted that Mary Jo would be substituting for her. “Evan’s not the least bit demanding, and I can’t think of even one time when he’s been unreasonable.”
Mary Jo suspected that might not be the case with her.
“I could have retired with my husband, but I enjoy my job so much I decided to stay on,” Mrs. Sterling continued. “I couldn’t bear leaving that young man. In some ways, I think of Evan as my own son.”
“I’m sure he reciprocates your feelings,” Mary Jo said politely. She didn’t know how much longer she could endure listening to this list of Evan’s finer qualities. Not that she doubted they were true. For Mrs. Sterling.
Thus far, Evan had embarrassed her in front of her family and blackmailed her into working for him. She had a problem picturing him as Prince Charming to her Cinderella. As for his being a “real pleasure” to work for, Mary Jo entertained some serious reservations.
“I’m glad you’ve got the opportunity to travel with your husband,” Mary Jo added.
“That’s another thing,” Evan’s secretary gushed.
“What boss would be willing to let his secretary go for two whole months like this? It’s a terrible inconvenience to him. Nevertheless, Mr. Dryden encouraged me to take this trip with Dennis. Why, he insisted I go. I promise you, they don’t come any better than Mr. Dryden. You’re going to thoroughly enjoy your summer.”
Mary Jo’s smile was weak at best.
Evan wanted her under his thumb, and much as she disliked giving in to the pressure, she had no choice. Six or seven thousand dollars would financially cripple her parents. Evan knew that. He was also well aware that her brothers weren’t in any position to help.
With the slump in the economy, new construction starts had been way down. Jack, Rich and Lonny had collected unemployment benefits most of the winter and were just scraping by now. Bill and Mark’s automotive business was barely on its feet.
She was the one who’d gone to Evan for help, and she was the one who’d accepted the financial responsibility. When she’d told her parents she’d be working for Evan, they were both delighted. Her mother seemed to think it was the perfect solution. Whether Evan had planned it this way or not, his employing her had helped smooth her father’s ruffled feathers about Evan’s fee. Apparently, letting her pick up any out-of-pocket expenses was unacceptable to Norman Summerhill, but an exchange of services, so to speak, was fine.
Evan, who could do no wrong as far as her parents were concerned, came out of this smelling like a rose, to use one of her dad’s favorite expressions.
Mary Jo wondered if she was being unfair to assume that Evan was looking for vengeance, for a means of making her life miserable. Perhaps she’d misjudged him.
Perhaps. But she sincerely doubted it.
“I’m taking my lunch now,” Mrs. Sterling said, pulling open the bottom drawer of her desk and taking out her handbag. She hesitated. “You will be all right here by yourself, won’t you?”
“Of course.” Mary Jo made an effort to sound infinitely confident, even if she wasn’t. Evan’s legal assistant, Peter McNichols, was on vacation for the next couple of weeks, so she’d be dealing with Evan entirely on her own.
Mary Jo wasn’t sure she was emotionally prepared for that just yet. The shaky, unsure feeling in the pit of her stomach reminded her of the first time she’d stood in front of a classroom filled with five-year-olds.
No sooner had Mrs. Sterling left when Evan summoned Mary Jo. Grabbing a pen and pad, she hurried into his office, determined to be the best substitute secretary he could have hired.
“Sit down,” he instructed in a brisk, businesslike tone.
Mary Jo complied, sitting on the very edge of the chair, her back ramrod-straight, her shoulders stiff.
He reached for a small, well-worn black book and flipped through the flimsy pages, scrutinizing the names. Mary Jo realized it had to be the typical bachelor’s infamous “black book.” She knew he had a reputation, after all, as one of Boston’s most eligible bachelors. Every six months or so, gossip columns speculated on Evan Dryden’s current love interest. A little black book was exactly what she expected of him.
“Order a dozen red roses to be sent to Catherine Moore,” he said, and rattled off the address. Mary Jo immediately recognized it as being in a prestigious neighborhood. “Suggest we meet for lunch on the twenty-fifth. Around twelve-thirty.” He mentioned one of Boston’s most elegant restaurants. “Have you got that?” he asked.
“I’ll see to it immediately,” Mary Jo said crisply, revealing none of her feelings. Evan had done this on purpose. He was having her arrange a lunch date with one of his many conquests in order to humiliate her, to teach her a lesson. It was his way of telling her that he’d recovered completely from their short-lived romance. There were any number of women who would welcome his attentions.
Well, Mary Jo got the message, loud and clear. She stood, ready to return to her desk.
“There’s more,” Evan said.
Mary Jo sat back down and was barely able to keep up with him as he listed name after name, followed by phone number and address. Each woman was to receive a dozen red roses and an invitation to lunch, with time and place suggested.
When he’d finished, Mary Jo counted six names, each conjuring up a statuesque beauty. No doubt every one of them could run circles around her in looks, talent and, most important, social position.
Mary Jo didn’t realize one man could find that many places to eat with so many different women, but she wisely kept her opinion to herself. If he was hoping she’d give him the satisfaction of a response, he was dead wrong.
She’d just finished ordering the flowers when Damian Dryden stepped into the office.
“Hello,” he said. His eyes widened with surprise at finding her sitting at Mrs. Sterling’s desk.
Mary Jo stood and extended her hand. “I’m Mary Jo Summerhill. We met briefly last week.” She didn’t mention the one other time she’d been introduced to Damian, certain he wouldn’t remember.
It was well over three years ago. Evan and Mary Jo had been sailing, and they’d run into Damian at the marina. Her first impression of Evan’s older brother was that of a shrewd businessman. Damian had seemed stiff and somewhat distant. He’d shown little interest in their cheerful commentary on sailing and the weather. From conversations she’d previously had with Evan regarding his brother, she’d learned he was a serious and hardworking lawyer, and that was certainly how he’d struck her—as someone with no time for fun or frivolity. Currently, he was a Superior Court judge, but he often stopped in at the family law firm. Apparently the two brothers were close friends, as well as brothers.
The man she’d met on the dock that day and the one who stood before her now might have been two entirely different men. Damian remained serious and hardworking, but he was more relaxed now, more apt to smile. Mary Jo was convinced that marriage and fatherhood had made the difference, and she was genuinely happy for him and for Jessica. They seemed perfect for each other.
“You’re working for the firm now?” Damian asked.
“Mrs. Sterling will be traveling in Europe this summer,” Mary Jo explained, “and Evan, uh, offered me the job.” Which was a polite way of saying he’d coerced her into accepting the position.
“But I thought—” Damian stopped abruptly, then grinned. “Is Evan in?”
“Yes. I’ll tell him you’re here.” She reached for the intercom switch and announced Damian, who walked directly into Evan’s office.
Mary Jo was acquainting herself with the filing system when she heard Evan burst out laughing. It really wasn’t fair to assume it had something to do with her, but she couldn’t help believing that was the case.
Damian left a couple of minutes later, smiling. He paused in front of Mary Jo’s desk. “Don’t let him give you a hard time,” he said pleasantly. “My wife mentioned having you over for lunch last week, but she didn’t say you’d accepted a position with the firm.”
“I…I didn’t know it myself at the time,” Mary Jo mumbled. She hadn’t actually agreed to the job until much later, after she’d spent a few days sorting through her limited options.
“I see. Well, it’s good to have you on board, Mary Jo. If you have any questions or concerns, don’t hesitate to talk to Evan. And if he does give you a hard time, just let me know and I’ll straighten him out.”
“Thank you,” she said, and meant it. Although she couldn’t very well see herself complaining to one brother about the other….
She decided to change her attitude about the whole situation. She’d forget about Evan’s probable motives and, instead, start looking at the positive side of this opportunity. She’d be able to help her parents now, without dipping into her own savings. Things could definitely be worse.
Mary Jo didn’t learn just how much worse until Wednesday—the first day she was working on her own. Mrs. Sterling had spent the first two days of the week acquainting Mary Jo with office procedures and the filing system. She’d updated her on Evan’s current cases, and Mary Jo felt reasonably confident she could handle whatever came up.
He called her into his office around eleven. “I need the William Jenkins file.”
“I’ll have it for you right away,” she assured him. Mary Jo returned to the outer office and the filing cabinet, and sorted through the colored tabs. She located three clients named Jenkins, none of whom was William. Her heart started to pound with dread as she hurried to another filing drawer, thinking it might have been misfiled.
Five minutes passed. Evan came out of his office, his movements as brusque and irritated as his voice. “Is there a problem?”
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Debbie Macomber
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: Ready for Marriage, электронная книга автора Debbie Macomber на английском языке, в жанре современные любовные романы