Mixed-Up Matrimony. Diana Mars

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СКАЧАТЬ trend in the conversation. It was bound to cause friction between them, and right now she and Bronson needed harmony and cooperation.

      “I know what you mean. I’ve been so busy trying to make ends meet, attempting to pay for Sabrina’s private lessons, equipment and tournaments—” Tamara noticed Bronson’s puzzled look. “If you’re thinking of the Continental, it’s paid up. It’s the only thing I’ve kept from the errant eighties, when everyone thought the sky was the limit.”

      “Your company went under?”

      “They ‘restructured.’” Tamara could not keep the bitterness from her voice. “After getting my MBA in night school, and seven years of slowly but steadily rising through the ranks, Sports Science Comp showed me—as well as several other executives—the door.”

      “No retirement benefits, pension...gold watch?” Bronson asked sympathetically.

      “Not even a pin,” Tamara said. “I’m self-employed now, and run a consulting firm. But the hours and overhead are brutal, and I’ve tried to keep the ugly facts from Sabrina.”

      “Which was undeniably a mistake,” Bronson said quietly. Noticing that Tamara was still shivering, he reached into the back seat and grabbed a large green sweatshirt with NOTRE DAME emblazoned in gold on the front. “Why don’t you put this on? I’m sure it’ll fit over your coat.” As Tamara held the sweater in her hands, he added ruefully, “I guess I was anticipating that Christopher would enroll here.”

      “I guess you were,” Tamara said, giving him back the sweatshirt.

      She saw Bronson’s look of surprise, and heard the uncertain note in his voice when he asked, “Would you like me to turn on the heat? You’ll be even more chilled when you get into your daughter’s cold car.”

      Tamara felt like answering that he had turned on the heat already, but knew innuendo would not be appropriate at the moment. She had no doubt Bronson would retaliate in kind, and who knew what that could lead to?

      And even though Bronson’s kindness made her feel like a heel, she couldn’t stray from her original mission here. She didn’t dare to openly show her resentment of Christopher right now, because she needed Bronson. They needed each other. They had to solve one problem at a time: they had to stop their kids’ foolish plans.

      Looking about the luxurious interior, she said, “You seem to be doing all right.”

      “Appearances can be deceiving. I’m also self-employed, and find myself putting in a few more hours a day and still not coming close to the business I had in the mid and even late eighties.”

      “I guess everyone is feeling the pinch in the nineties,” Tamara agreed. Remembering his earlier comment, she said, “You mentioned before that we’d been too easy on our kids. Do you think you spoiled Christopher that much?”

      “My parents were not able to help me after putting my two older brothers through college,” Bronson told her. “I wanted Christopher to have everything he desired—he’s never held down a job—and everything I never had...especially after the divorce.”

      Starting up the car, Bronson turned on the heater. “When it gets warm enough, you can take off your coat. Then you can put it back on when you get into Sabrina’s car.”

      “If that day ever comes,” Tamara said wryly. “Sabrina has always been a fast dresser—comes from all those years of being called on to play doubles after finishing her singles matches in ninety-plus weather. I’m sure that the delay is not attire-related.”

      Bronson grinned. “I’m sure you’re right.” His gaze dropped to her mouth, and then lower still, taking in her curved but athletic form. When his eyes returned to her face, Tamara could feel twin flags burning in her cheeks. All of a sudden the interior of the car—as well as her interior—was suffocatingly hot.

      Trying to distract Bronson from his disturbing scrutiny and her body from its traitorous response, Tamara said, “Your wife took you to the cleaners?”

      “Cleaners?” Bronson asked, his face a blank, his voice husky. Clearing his throat, he recovered swiftly. “Ah, no. Joanna wasn’t after my money. Just her freedom, and a ‘meaningful career.’ She hasn’t seen Christopher in years.”

      Tamara shook her head. “Amazing, the parallels between our lives. Robert has not shown any interest in Brina, either.”

      A charged silence fell between them. Tamara felt as if she were swimming underwater, and knew that, without the specter of Sabrina’s future floating in the intimate confines of the car, she and Bronson would have been doing more than talking.

      Horrified at letting her body’s demands arise at a time when her daughter’s needs were paramount, Tamara fought the attraction. She forcibly removed her gaze from Bronson’s frank, glittering one, and changed position so she could look out the passenger-side window.

      Tamara could feel fear creeping into her in twisted tendrils. Was it possible that she had been so busy trying to provide Sabrina with material things that she had neglected her emotional sustenance? Tamara had never been one to doubt herself, but something was wrong if her only child had chosen to confide in someone other than her own mother.

      Bronson’s hand shot out and gripped both of Tamara’s, which she’d been torturing in her lap. “Don’t.”

      She looked up from their entwined fingers, startled. Even the slightest contact with him seemed to touch a chord deep within her.

      “Don’t blame yourself. We taught our children right from wrong. Life is not always neat, and it’s not always fair. Don’t let your daughter do a guilt trip on you, or she’ll walk all over you.”

      Tamara wanted to protest that Sabrina was not that calculating, that manipulative. But today she had seen a side to her daughter that she had never known before—either because Sabrina had hidden it from her, or because her daughter had changed so drastically, so quickly, that Tamara had not been able to detect it.

      And it was definitely a side that Tamara did not like. At all.

      Bronson’s other hand covered hers, squeezing them reassuringly. From the renewed tension in his body, Tamara could tell the children had come out of the tennis center.

      Four

      Nervously, Tamara opened the door and got out of the Porsche.

      Sabrina looked at Tamara with condemning eyes. “Do you and Mr. Kensington know each other, Mother?”

      Bronson had also gotten out of the car and had come to stand by her. Tamara could feel him stiffen next to her at Sabrina’s insolent tone, and it took all of her willpower to keep from lashing out at this stranger, who was once her daughter, who stood so challengingly before her. Glancing pointedly at Sabrina’s hand, which was held tightly in Christopher’s, she said coolly, “Not as well as you know Christopher, Sabrina. Bronson and I just met today.”

      Since Sabrina had stopped addressing her as Mom today, Tamara had also dropped her own shortened version of Sabrina’s name, Brina. It hurt like the very devil to do so, but if Sabrina wanted a war, she was going to get one. As Bronson had said, she could not show any weakness that either of the kids could capitalize on.

      “Ready СКАЧАТЬ