Home for the Holidays: The Forgetful Bride / When Christmas Comes

The light changed and, clasping her elbow, Joe urged her into the street. “What was it Lindy said?” he prompted when they’d crossed.

Cait looked up, about to tell him, when she realized exactly what she was doing—conversing with her antagonist. This was the very man who’d gone out of his way to embarrass and humiliate her in front of the entire office staff. Not to mention assorted clients and carpenters.

She stiffened. “Never mind what Lindy said. Now if you’ll kindly excuse me…” With her head high, she marched down the sidewalk. She hadn’t gone more than a few feet when the hearty sound of Joe’s laughter caught up with her.

“You haven’t changed in twenty years, Caitlin Marshall. Not a single bit.”

Gritting her teeth, she marched on.

“Do you think Paul’s heard?” Cait asked Lindy the instant she had a free moment the following afternoon. The New York Stock Exchange had closed for the day and Cait hadn’t seen Paul since morning. It looked like he really was avoiding her.

“I wouldn’t know,” Lindy said as she typed some figures into her computer. “But the word about your childhood marriage has spread like wildfire everywhere else. It’s the joke of the day. What did you and Joe do? Make a public announcement before you left the office yesterday afternoon?”

It was so nearly the truth that Cait guiltily lowered her eyes. “I didn’t say a word,” she defended herself. “Joe was the one.”

“He told everyone you were married?” A suspicious tilt at the corner of her mouth betrayed Lindy’s amusement.

“Not exactly. He started asking about our children in front of everyone.”

“There were children?”

Cait resisted the urge to close her eyes and count to ten. “No. I brought my dolls to the wedding. Listen, I don’t want to rehash a silly incident that happened years ago. I’m more afraid Paul’s going to hear about it and put the wrong connotation on the whole thing. There’s absolutely nothing between me and Joseph Rockwell. More than likely Paul won’t give it a second thought, but I don’t want there to be any…doubts between us, if you know what I mean.”

“If you’re so worried about it, talk to him,” Lindy advised without lifting her eyes from the screen. “Honesty is the best policy, you know that.”

“Yes, but it could prove to be a bit embarrassing, don’t you think?”

“Paul will respect you for telling him the truth before he hears the rumors from someone else. Frankly, Cait, I think you’re making a fuss over nothing. It isn’t like you’ve committed a felony, you know.”

“I realize that.”

“Paul will probably be amused, like everyone else. He’s not going to say anything.” She looked up quickly, as though she expected Cait to try yet another argument.

Cait didn’t. Instead she mulled over her friend’s advice, gnawing on her lower lip. “You might be right. Paul will respect me for explaining the situation myself, instead of ignoring everything.” Telling him the truth could be helpful in other respects, too, now that she thought about it.

If Paul had any feeling for her whatsoever, and oh, how she prayed he did, then he might become just a little jealous of her relationship with Joseph Rockwell. After all, Joe was an attractive man in a rugged outdoor sort of way. He was tall and muscular and, well, good-looking. The kind of good-looking that appealed to women—not Cait, of course, but other women. Hadn’t Lindy commented almost immediately on how attractive he was?

“You’re right,” Cait said, walking resolutely toward the office she was temporarily sharing with Paul. Although she’d felt annoyed at first about being shuffled out of her own space, she’d come to think of this inconvenience as a blessing in disguise. However, she had to admit she’d been disappointed thus far. She had assumed she’d be spending a lot of time alone with him. That hadn’t happened yet.

The more Cait considered the idea of a heart-to-heart talk with her boss, the more appealing it became. As was her habit, she mentally rehearsed what she wanted to say to him, then gave herself a small pep talk.

“I don’t remember that you talked to yourself.” The male voice booming behind her startled Cait. “But then there’s a great deal I’ve missed over the years, isn’t there, Caitlin?”

Cait was so rattled she nearly stumbled. “What are you doing here?” she demanded. “Why are you following me around? Can’t you see I’m busy?” He was the last person she wanted to confront just now.

“Sorry.” He raised both hands in a gesture of apology contradicted by his twinkling blue eyes. “How about lunch later?”

He was teasing. He had to be. Besides, it would be insane for her to have anything to do with Joseph Rockwell. Heaven only knew what would happen if she gave him the least bit of encouragement. He’d probably hire a skywriter and announce to the entire city that they’d married as children.

“It shouldn’t be that difficult to agree to a luncheon date,” he informed her coolly.

“You’re serious about this?”

“Of course I’m serious. We have a lot of years to catch up on.” His hand rested on his leather pouch, giving him a rakish air of indifference.

“I’ve got an appointment this afternoon…” She offered the first plausible excuse she could think of; it might be uninspired but it also happened to be true. She’d made plans to have lunch with Lindy.

“Dinner then. I’m anxious to hear what Martin’s been up to.”

“Martin,” she repeated, stalling for time while she invented another excuse. This wasn’t a situation she had much experience with. She did date, but infrequently.

“Listen, bright eyes, no need to look so concerned. This isn’t an invitation to the senior prom. It’s one friend to another. Strictly platonic.”

“You won’t mention…our wedding to the waiter? Or anyone else?”

“I promise.” As if to offer proof of his intent, he licked the end of his index finger and crossed his heart. “That was Martin’s and my secret pledge sign. If either of us broke our word, the other was entitled to come up with a punishment. We both understood it would be a fate worse than death.”

“I don’t need any broken pledge in order to torture you, Joseph Rockwell. In two days you’ve managed to turn my life into—” She paused midsentence as Paul Jamison casually strolled past. He waved in Cait’s direction and smiled benignly.

“Hello, Paul,” she called out, weakly raising her right hand. He looked exceptionally handsome this morning in a three-piece dark blue suit. The contrast between him and Joe, who was wearing dust-covered jeans, heavy boots and a tool pouch, was so striking that Cait had to force herself not to stare at her boss. If only Paul had been the one to invite her to dinner…

“If you’ll excuse me,” she said politely, edging her way around Joe and toward Paul, who’d gone into his office. Their office. The need to talk to him burned within her. Words of explanation began to form themselves in her mind.

Joe caught her by the shoulders, bringing her up short. Cait gasped and raised shocked eyes to his.

“Dinner,” he reminded her.

She blinked, hardly knowing what to say. “All right,” she mumbled distractedly and recited her address, eager to have him gone.

“Good. I’ll pick you up tonight at six.” With that he released her and stalked away.

After taking a couple of moments to compose herself, Cait headed toward the office. “Hello, Paul,” she said, standing just inside the doorway. “Do you have a moment to talk?”

He glanced up from a file on his desk. “Of course, Cait. Sit down and make yourself comfortable.”

She moved into the room, closing the door behind her. When she looked back at Paul, he’d cocked his eyebrows in surprise. “Problems?” he asked.

“Not exactly.” She pulled out the chair opposite his desk and slowly sat down. Now that she had his full attention, she was at a loss. All her prepared explanations and witticisms had flown out of her head. “The rate on municipal bonds has been extremely high lately,” she said nervously.

Paul agreed with a quick nod. “They have been for several months now.”

“Yes, I know. That’s what makes them such excellent value.” Cait had been selling bonds heavily in the past few weeks.

“You didn’t close the door to talk to me about bonds,” Paul said softly. “What’s troubling you, Cait?”

She laughed uncomfortably, wondering how a man could be so astute in one area and so blind in another. If only he’d reveal some emotion toward her. Anything. All he did was sit across from her and wait. He was cordial enough, gracious even, but there was no hint of anything more. Nothing to give Cait any hope that he was starting to care for her.

“It’s about Joseph Rockwell.”