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“I told him no way.”
Janine blinked back surprise mingled with a fair amount of indignation. “Just like that? Couldn’t you at least have mulled it over?” Zach was staring at her as though he thought someone should rush over and take her temperature. “Forget I said that,” she mumbled, fussing with her napkin in order to avoid meeting his eyes.
“I didn’t want to encourage him.”
“That was wise.” Janine picked up her water glass and downed half the contents.
“To your grandfather’s credit, he seemed to accept my answer.”
“Don’t count on it,” Janine warned.
“Don’t worry, I know him, too. He isn’t going to give up easily. That’s the reason I suggested you and I meet to talk about this. If we keep in touch, we can anticipate Anton’s strategy.”
“Good idea.”
Their salads arrived and Janine frowned when the waitress tossed Zach another suggestive glance. “So,” she began in a conversational tone once the woman had left, “Gramps was smart enough not to offer you a large incentive if you went along with his scheme.”
“I didn’t say that.”
She stabbed viciously at her salad. “I hadn’t expected him to stoop that low. Exactly what tactics did he use?”
“He said something about family members having use of the limousine.”
Janine’s fork made a clanging sound as it hit the side of her salad bowl. “He offered you the limousine if you married me? That’s all?”
“Not even that,” Zach explained, not bothering to disguise his amusement, “only the use of it.”
“Why…why, that’s insulting.” She crammed some salad into her mouth and chewed the crisp lettuce as though it were leather.
“I considered it a step above the cow and ten chickens you suggested the first time we discussed this.”
“Where he came from, a cow and ten chickens were worth a lot more than you seem to realize,” Janine exclaimed, and immediately regretted raising her voice, because half the patrons in the restaurant turned to stare. She smiled blandly at those around her, then slouched forward over her salad.
She reached for a bread stick, broke it in half and glared at it. “The use of the limo,” she repeated, indignant.
“Don’t look so upset.” He grinned. “I might have accepted.”
Zach was deriving far too much pleasure from this to suit her. “Your attitude isn’t helping any,” she said, frowning righteously.
“I apologize.”
But he didn’t act the least bit apologetic. When she’d first met Zach, Janine had assumed he was a man who rarely smiled, yet in the short time they’d spent together today, he’d practically been laughing outright.
The waitress brought their entrées, but when Janine took her first bite, she realized that even the pretense of eating was more than she could manage. She felt too wretched. Tears sprang to her eyes, which embarrassed her even more, although she struggled to hide them.
“What’s wrong?” Zach surprised her by asking.
Eyes averted, Janine shook her head, while she attempted to swallow. “Gramps believes I’m a poor judge of character,” she finally said. And she was. Brian had proved it to her, but Gramps didn’t know about Brian. “I feel like a failure.”
“He didn’t mean any of it,” Zach said gently.
“But couldn’t he have come up with something a little more flattering?”
“He needed an excuse to marry you off, otherwise his suggestion would have sounded crazy.” Zach hesitated. “You know, the more we discuss this, the more ludicrous the whole thing seems.” He chuckled softly and leaned forward to set his elbows on the table. “Who would’ve believed he’d come up with the idea of the two of us marrying?”
“Thank you very much,” Janine muttered. He sat there shredding her ego and apparently found the process just short of hilarious.
“Don’t let it get to you. You’re not interested in me as a husband, anyway.”
“You’re right about that—you’re the last person I’d ever consider marrying,” she lashed out, then regretted her reaction when she saw his face tighten.
“That’s what I thought.” He attacked his spaghetti as though the clams were scampering around his plate.
The tension between them mounted. When the waitress arrived to remove their plates, Janine had barely touched her meal. Zach hadn’t eaten much, either.
After paying for their dinner, Zach walked her to her car, offering no further comment. As far as Janine was concerned, their meeting hadn’t been at all productive. She felt certain that Zach was everything Gramps claimed—incisive, intelligent, intuitive. But that was at the office. As a potential husband and wife, they were completely ill-suited.
“Do you still want me to keep in touch?” she asked when she’d unlocked her car door. They stood awkwardly together in the street, and Janine realized they hardly knew what to say to each other.
“I suppose we should, since neither of us is interested in falling in with this plan of his,” Zach said. “We need to set our differences aside and work together, otherwise we might unknowingly play into his hands.”
“I won’t be swayed and you won’t, either.” Janine found the thought oddly disappointing.
“If and when I do marry,” Zach informed her, “which I sincerely doubt, I’ll choose my own bride.”
It went without saying that Janine was nothing like the woman he’d want to spend his life with.
“If and when I marry, I’ll choose my own husband,” she said, sounding equally firm. And it certainly wouldn’t be a man her grandfather had chosen.
“I don’t know if I like boys or not,” thirteen-year-old Pam Hudson admitted over a cheeseburger and French fries. “They can be so dumb.”
It’d been a week since Janine’s dinner with Zach, and she was surprised that the teenager’s assessment of the opposite sex should so closely match her own.
“I’m not even sure I like Charlie anymore,” Pam said as she stirred her catsup with a French fry. Idly she smeared it around the edges of her plate in a haphazard pattern. “I used to be so crazy about him, remember?”
Janine smiled indulgently. “Every other word was Charlie this and Charlie that.”
“He can be okay, though. Remember when he brought me that long-stemmed rose and left it on my porch?”
“I remember.” Janine’s mind flashed to the afternoon she’d met Zach. As they left the restaurant, he’d smiled at her. It wasn’t much as smiles went, but for some reason, she couldn’t seem to forget how he’d held her gaze, his dark eyes gentle, as he murmured polite nonsense. Funny how little things about this man tended to pop up in her mind at the strangest moments.
“But last week,” Pam continued, “Charlie was playing basketball with the guys, and when I walked by, he pretended he didn’t even know me.”
“That hurt, didn’t it?”
“Yeah, it did,” Pam confessed. “And after I bought a T-shirt for him, too.”
“Does he wear it?”
A gratified smile lit the girl’s eyes. “All the time.”
“By the way, I like how you’re doing your hair.”
Pam beamed. “I want it to look more like yours.”
Actually, the style suited Pam far better than it did her, Janine thought. The sides were cut close to the head, but the long bangs flopped with a life of their own—at least on Janine they did. Lately she’d taken to pinning them back.
“How are things at home?” Janine asked, watching the girl carefully. Pam’s father, Jerry Hudson, was divorced and had custody of his daughter. Pam’s mother worked on the East Coast. With no family in the area, Jerry felt that his daughter needed a woman’s influence. He’d contacted the Friendship Club about the same time Janine had applied to be a volunteer. Since Jerry worked odd hours as a short-order cook, she’d met him only once. He seemed a decent sort, working hard to make a good life for himself and his daughter.
Pam was a marvelous kid, Janine mused, and she possessed exceptional creative talent. Even before her father could afford to buy her a sewing machine, Pam had been designing and making clothes for her Barbie dolls. Janine’s bandanna dress was one of the first projects she’d completed on her new machine. Pam had made several others since; they were popular with her friends, and she was ecstatic about the success of her ideas.
“I think I might forgive Charlie,” she went on to say, her look contemplative. “I mean, he was with the guys and everything.”
“It’s not cool to let his friends know he’s got a girlfriend, huh?”
“Yeah, I guess….”
Janine wasn’t feeling nearly as forgiving toward Zach. He’d talked about their keeping in touch, but hadn’t called her since. She didn’t believe for an instant that Gramps had given up on his marriage campaign, but he’d apparently decided to let the matter rest. The pressure was off, yet Janine kept expecting some word from Zach. The least he could do was call, she grumbled to herself, although she made no attempt to analyze the reasons for her disappointment.
“Maybe Charlie isn’t so bad, after all,” Pam murmured, then added wisely, “This is an awkward age for boys, especially in their relationships with girls.”
“Say,” Janine teased, “who’s supposed to be the adult here, anyway? That’s my line.”
“Oh, sorry,”
Smiling, Janine stole a French fry from Pam’s plate and popped it into her mouth.
“So when are you leaving for Scotland?” Pam wanted to know.
“Next week.”
“How long are you going to be gone?”
“Ten days.” The trip was an unexpected gift from her grandfather. One night shortly after she’d met Zach for dinner, Gramps had handed her a packet with airline tickets and hotel reservations. When she’d asked why, his reply had been vague, even cryptic—something about her needing to get away. Since she’d always dreamed of visiting Scotland, she’d leapt at the chance.
It wasn’t until she’d driven Pam home that Janine thought she should let Zach know she was going to be out of the country. It probably wasn’t important, but he’d made such a point of saying they should keep in touch….
Janine planned her visit to the office carefully, making sure Gramps would be occupied elsewhere. Since she’d been shopping for her trip, she was carrying several department and clothing store bags. She was doing this for a reason. She wanted her visit to appear unplanned, as if in the course of a busy day, she’d suddenly remembered their agreement. She felt that dropping in would seem more spontaneous than simply calling.
“Hello,” she said to Zach’s efficient secretary, smiling cheerfully. “Is Mr. Thomas available? I’ll only need a moment of his time.”
The older woman clearly disapproved of this intrusion, but although she pursed her lips, she didn’t verbalize her objection. She pushed the intercom button and Janine felt a tingle of awareness at the sound of Zach’s strong masculine voice.
“This is a pleasant surprise,” he said, standing as Janine breezed into the room.
She set her bags on the floor and with an exaggerated sigh, eased herself into the chair opposite his desk and crossed her legs. “I’m sorry to drop in unannounced,” she said casually, “but I have some news.”
“No problem.” His gaze fell to the bags heaped on the floor. “Looks like you had a busy afternoon.”
“I was shopping.”
“So I see. Any special reason?”
“It’s my trousseau.” Melodramatically, she pressed the back of her hand against her forehead. “I can’t take the pressure anymore. I’ve come to tell you I told my grandfather to go ahead and arrange the wedding. Someday, somehow, we’ll learn to love each other.”
“This isn’t amusing. Now what’s so important that it can’t—”
“Mr. Thomas,” his secretary said crisply over the intercom, “Mr. Hartman is here to see you.”
Janine’s eyes widened in panic as her startled gaze flew to Zach, who looked equally alarmed. It would be the worst possible thing for Gramps to discover Janine alone with Zach in his office. She hated to think how he’d interpret that.
“Just a minute,” Zach said, reading the hysteria in her eyes. She marveled at how composed he sounded. He pointed toward a closed door and ushered her into a small room—or a large closet—that was practically a home away from home. A bar, refrigerator, microwave, sink and other conveniences were neatly arranged inside. No sooner was the door slammed shut behind her than it was jerked open again and three large shopping bags were tossed in.
Janine felt utterly ridiculous. She kept as still as she could, afraid to turn on the light and almost afraid to breathe for fear of being discovered.
With her ear against the door, she tried to listen to the conversation, hoping to discover just how long Gramps intended to plant himself in Zach’s office.
Unfortunately, she could barely hear a thing. She risked opening the door a crack; a quick glance revealed that both men were facing away from her. That explained why she couldn’t understand their conversation.
It was then that Janine spotted her purse. Strangling a gasp, she eased the door shut and staggered away from it. She covered her mouth as she took deep breaths. When she found the courage to edge open the door and peek again, she saw that all her grandfather had to do was glance downward.
If he shuffled his feet, his shoe would catch on the strap and he’d drag it out of the office with him.
Zach turned away from the window, and for the first time Janine could hear and see him clearly.
“I’ll take care of that right away,” he said evenly. He was so calm, so composed, as though he often kept women hidden in his closet. He must have noticed Janine’s purse because he frowned and his gaze flew accusingly toward her.
Well, for heaven’s sake, she hadn’t purposely left it there for Gramps to trip over! He wasn’t even supposed to be in the building. That very morning, he’d told her he was lunching at the Athletic Club with his longtime friend, Burt Coleman. Whenever Gramps ate lunch with his cronies, he spent the afternoon playing pinochle. Apparently he’d changed his habits, just so her hair would turn prematurely gray.
Several tortured minutes passed before Zach escorted Gramps to the door. The instant it was shut, Janine stepped into the office, blinking against the brightness after her wait in the dark. “My purse,” she said in a strangled voice. “Do you think he saw it?”
“It would be a miracle if he didn’t. Of all the stupid things to do!”
“I didn’t purposely leave it out here!”
“I’m not talking about that,” Zach growled. “I’m referring to your coming here in the first place. Are you crazy? You couldn’t have called?”
“I…had something to tell you and I was in the neighborhood.” So much for her suave, sophisticated facade. Zach was right, of course; she could have told him just as easily by phone.
He looked furious. “For the life of me I can’t think of a solitary thing that’s so important you’d do anything this foolish. If your grandfather saw the two of us together, he’d immediately jump to the wrong conclusion. Until this afternoon, everything’s been peaceful. Anton hasn’t mentioned your name once and, frankly, I appreciated that.”
His words stung. “I…I won’t make the mistake of coming again—ever,” she vowed, trying to sound dignified and aloof. She gathered her purse and her bags as quickly as possible and hurried out of the office, not caring who saw her leave, including Gramps.
“Janine, you never did say why you came.” Zach had followed her to the elevator.
Janine stared at the light above the elevator that indicated the floor number, as though it was a message of the utmost importance. Her hold on the bags was precarious and something was dragging against her feet, but she couldn’t have cared less. “I’m sorry to have imposed on your valuable time. Now that I think about it, it wasn’t even important.”
“Janine,” he coaxed, apparently regretting his earlier outburst. “I shouldn’t have yelled.”
