Maybe Married

“Oh, come on. Why should I care that you’re planning to get married? You can tell me all about her. Maybe I’ll invite her to lunch someday—give her some pointers about handling you. She might even ask me to be a bridesmaid.” Dana started to laugh. “If you could see your face, Zeke…You’re acting as if you think I’m going to refuse to divorce you this time around.” She stopped dead, staring at him.

He watched her with interest. The play of emotion across her face was fascinating—first laughter, then shock, and then the beginnings of grim anger.

“You do,” she accused. “You are actually arrogant enough to think I’m going to stand in your way. As if I’d be stupid enough to want you back! I couldn’t wait to get out of our marriage last time around, and I’m certainly not going to hold you up…”

Zeke cut another bite of his steak and waited patiently for her to run down.

“Hold you up,” she repeated. “I get it now. Last time neither of us had a dime, so there was no problem about who got what. But now you’re sitting on a gold mine—and you think I’m mercenary enough to want to stay married to you just so I can help spend it.”

“If that was what I thought, Dana, I would just have waited to tell you about the divorce till the business was sold.”

Dana shook her head. “No, you wouldn’t—because then you’d have cash in your hands. I could demand part of that in return for your freedom. Well, let me assure you I won’t. I want to be free just as much as you do, and it can’t happen soon enough for me.”

Here’s your chance, Ferris. Make it good. “Now that is a difficulty,” Zeke said calmly. “Because you see, Dana…I don’t.”

CHAPTER THREE

DANA pushed her plate away and propped both elbows on the table, steadying her chin in her hands while she tried to decide whether Zeke could have possibly said what she thought she’d heard. He couldn’t have, she decided. She must have been hallucinating, because he didn’t seem to realize he had said anything unusual at all. And he certainly wasn’t waiting for a reaction, the way he would if he’d deliberately thrown out a bombshell like that one; he was concentrating on his steak as if it was the only important issue in his life at the moment.

It was an odd thing for her to hallucinate about, though. Out of the blue, to imagine that Zeke wanted her back…She wasn’t even in the habit of thinking about him. Not often, anyway. She must have been even more shaken than she’d realized by his announcement—and that was saying something.

“In case I didn’t make myself quite clear,” Zeke said finally, “I mean that I don’t want a divorce.”

Dana supposed that announcement should make her feel better, because there was no question this time what he’d meant, and that proved she wasn’t hearing odd voices in her head after all. Unfortunately, establishing that she wasn’t the crazy one didn’t eliminate the problem.

“Well, you always were a little irrational about certain subjects,” she said, trying to sound calm. “But this confirms it—you’ve lost your ever-lovin’ mind. Of course you want a divorce, Zeke. You’ve had a divorce for the past six years.” She saw him start to shake his head and rolled her eyes. “So all right, maybe it wasn’t quite legal—but we thought it was. We both lived as if we were single. You absolutely cannot expect me to believe that you’ve gone around for the last six years regretting our breakup and living like a monk while you tried to figure out a way to get me back.”

“No,” Zeke said.

“Good. At least you know better than to insult my intelligence. So what on earth do you mean, you don’t want a divorce?”

“Not at the moment anyway.”

“At the moment? Okay, I’ll wait five minutes and try again.” She pulled her plate back and cut into her steak. “In the meantime—”

“And not for the next few months. About three should do it, I think.”

Dana put down her fork. “I’m not even going to ask you to explain the logic behind that. But I don’t see the problem. If we’d file the papers tomorrow, it would take at least that long before the divorce is final and you’re free. Even if the court rushed everything through, three months from now we’ll still be married…” Her voice trailed off. “I can’t believe I’m actually saying that.”

“But as soon as we asked for a divorce, it would be clear that I was going to be unattached within a relatively short space of time.”

“And you don’t want to be free?”

“Ultimately, yes. Of course I do. But not for the next three months.”

“What’s magical about three months, for heaven’s sake?”

“I thought you weren’t going to ask me to explain.” He held up both hands, palms out. “Okay, okay—no more teasing. I haven’t forgotten the symptoms when you’re about to blow up.”

“Good for you,” Dana muttered.

Zeke tipped his water glass and used the edge of the heavy base to draw invisible circles on the tabletop. “You said Barclay told you I’m selling my company.”

Dana nodded.

“Well, he’s a little ahead of the times. I’m negotiating a sale, but it isn’t final yet.”

“No wonder you weren’t eager to write the university a check.”

“And I never will be as long as he’s in charge.”

“Tell me, Zeke…” Dana’s voice dripped irony. “Exactly when did you acquire this overwhelming fondness for Barclay? Because if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were acting jealous.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Zeke said lightly. “I’ve been watching you from afar these last six years and setting private detectives to check out every guy you dated. I can tell you exactly how many times you’ve been kissed good night at the front door.”

Dana didn’t believe him for an instant. “Only at the front door? Surely you didn’t neglect to bug my bedroom.”

“Dana!” He sounded shocked. “There are some things a gentleman just won’t do.”

“Right. I’d put more stock in that if you behaved like a gentleman even when it wasn’t convenient. It’s interesting that all through these years of spying on me, this is the first time you felt it necessary to intervene in my private life. I suppose you’re going to tell me that your Don Quixote impulses got the best of you?”

“And sent me rushing to rescue you from Barclay,” he agreed. “I find it fascinating, of course, that you seem to think you need rescuing…Was that one of those nasty Freudian slips, my dear?”

Dana bit her tongue. When was she going to learn to watch every word she said? He’d always been deadly in an argument. “Let’s leave Barclay out of it, all right?”

Zeke shrugged. “Fine, just remember that you’re the one who brought him in. But let me put your mind at rest on the jealousy question. I disliked Barclay the moment I heard his unctuous, oily voice on the telephone.”

“Then—if you were so unimpressed with him—why did you accept his invitation to the cocktail party?”

“Because I was looking for you, sweetheart, and I thought if he called the alumni office to vouch for me, I’d have an easier time of getting your current address.”

“Why didn’t you just ask all your private investigators where to find me?” Dana asked sweetly.

Zeke had gone straight on. “I didn’t expect to run into you right at Barclay’s elbow.” He raised his eyebrows. “Come to think of it, why were you at Barclay’s elbow? And don’t give me the obvious answer, because I’m not asking what you see in him. I want to know why you’re even at the university. You were as anxious to shake the dust of this town off your feet as I was.”

“No—I was anxious to get out of the marriage. I’m here because I was offered a very good job, with a lot of potential for advancement.”

Zeke shrugged. “I guess, if marrying Barclay is your idea of advancing…”

“That isn’t what I was talking about. I was hired to promote the idea of a conference center, to develop the plans and create demand for the facility. In another year or two, when it’s completed, I’ll be in charge of a brand-new, state-of-the-art building and all the business that goes with it. The university will be the place to go for conventions, parties, product launches, weddings—”

“And in the meantime?”

She admitted, reluctantly, “We’re located in Dressler Hall.”

“Refresh my memory. Is that the building on the corner of the quadrangle, the one that’s all falling plaster and bats?”

“Not anymore. Stop changing the subject, Zeke. You still haven’t told me why you want to be unavailable for the next three months, much less why you want to look as if you’re going to be unavailable forever. You’ll notice I didn’t assume that you actually want to be married to me.”