Page 121 of Romance and Peppermint Lattes
“Yes, you were,” Lindy insisted.
“There’s nothing to tell. If there was, you’d be the first person to hear. I know,” she admitted before her friend could bring up the point, “we have seen a lot of each other recently, but I don’t think it meant anything to Joe. When he found out Paul had invited me to dinner, he seemed downright delighted.”
“I’m sure it was all an act.”
Cait shrugged. She wished she could believe that. Oh, how she wished it.
“You’re sure you’re in love with him?” Lindy asked hesitantly.
Cait nodded and lowered her eyes. It hurt to think about Joe. Everything was a game to him—a big joke. Lindy had beenright about one thing, though. Love was the most wonderful experience of her life. And the most painful.
***
The New York Stock Exchange had closed and Cait was punching some figures into her computer when Joe strode into her office and closed the door.
“Feel free to come in,” she muttered, continuing her work. Her heart was pounding but she dared not let him know the effect he had on her.
“I will make myself at home, thank you,” he answered cheerfully, ignoring her sarcasm. He pulled out a chair and sat down expansively, resting one ankle on the opposite knee and relaxing as if he was in a movie theater, waiting for the main feature to begin.
“If you’re here to discuss business, might I suggest investing in blue-chip stocks? They’re always a safe bet.” Cait went on typing, doing her best to ignore Joe—which was nearly impossible, although she gave an Oscar-winning performance, if she did say so herself.
“I’m here to talk business, all right,” Joe said, “but it has nothing to do with the stock market.”
“What business could the two of us possibly have?” she asked, her voice deliberately ironic.
“I want to resume the discussion we were having last night.”
“Perhaps you do, but unfortunately that was last night and this is now.” How confident she sounded, Cait thought, mildly pleased with herself. “I can do without hearing you list my no doubt numerous flaws.”
“Your being my wife is what I want to talk about.”
“Your wife?” She wished he’d quit throwing the subject at her as if it meant something to him. Something other than a joke.
“Yes, my wife.” He gave a short laugh. “Believe me, it isn’t your flaws I’m here to discuss.”
Despite everything, Cait’s heart raced. She reached for a stack of papers and switched them from one basket to another. Her entire filing system was probably in jeopardy, but she needed some activity to occupy her hands before she stood up and reached out to Joe. She did stand then, but it was to remove a large silver bell strung from a red velvet ribbon hanging in her office window.
“Paul and Lindy are getting married,” he said next.
“Yes, I know. Lindy and I had a long talk this morning.” She took the wreath off her door next.
“I take it the two of you are friends again?”
“We were never not friends,” Cait answered stiffly, stuffing the wreath, the bell and the three ceramic wise men into the bottom drawer of her filing cabinet. Hard as she tried to prevent it, she could feel her defenses crumbling. “Lindy’s asked me to be her maid of honor and I’ve agreed.”
“Will you return the favor?”
It took a moment for the implication to sink in, and even then Cait wasn’t sure she should follow the trail Joe seemed to be forging through this conversation. She leaned forward and rested her hands on the edge of the desk.
“I’m destined to be an old maid,” she said flippantly, although she couldn’t help feeling a sliver of real hope.
“You’ll never be that.”
Cait was hoping he’d say her beauty would make her irresistible, or that her warmth and wit and intelligence were sure to attract a dozen suitors. Instead he said the very thing she could have predicted. “We’re already married, so you don’t need to worry about being a spinster.”
Cait released a sigh of impatience. “I wish you’d give up on that, Joe. It’s growing increasingly old.”
“As I recall, we celebrated our eighteenth anniversary not long ago.”
