The Marrying Kind. Judy Christenberry

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      “He probably thought I would object, but I wouldn’t, Mark. I promise.” She fought to keep the desperation out of her voice.

      “What’s up with you two, anyway?”

      Diane froze. “I don’t know what you mean.”

      “I mean…well, why is he so determined to be with you, while you’re so reluctant?”

      “It’s business, Mark, that’s all.”

      “Well, I’m free for lunch, but you need to ask John if he wants me to come. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll know I was right.”

      “Fine,” she conceded. “But I’m sure he’ll change his mind.” Then she hung up the phone.

      “About what?” John asked, leaning against the open door to her office.

      Diane gasped. Then she took a deep breath and said calmly, “Hi, John. You’re a little early. I didn’t expect you until noon.” Since it was only eleven-thirty, he was actually a lot early.

      “Were you talking about me?”

      “Yes, I called Mark to see if he wanted to come with us.”

      John raised one eyebrow as she watched in fascination. “What did he say?”

      “He said he didn’t think you wanted him along.”

      “Smart man. Are you ready to go? I thought we should beat the lunch crowd.”

      “John, I don’t mind if he comes, in case you don’t like eating alone with me,” Diane insisted.

      “But I want to eat alone with you. I don’t want Mark with us.”

      Just as she’d feared.

      “By the way, you look great in that color, whatever it is.”

      “Th-thank you.” The color was a rosy beige that no doubt paled in comparison to the blush on her cheeks now, thanks to his compliment. She’d deliberated over her choice of clothing for a long time that morning, finally settling on a black pinstripe suit and the pastel blouse she hardly ever wore.

      “Are you ready?”

      “Yes, but—All right, we’ll go. I made a reservation for twelve o’clock.”

      “I know. I changed it to eleven-thirty.”

      Diane bent to get her purse, then stood. When she came around the desk, John took her hand.

      “What are you doing?” she asked, snatching her arm away.

      “I was holding your hand.”

      “I know, but I’m your banker, not…a woman.” As soon as she said it, she knew it had come out all wrong. “I mean, I bet you don’t hold Mark’s hand.”

      He grinned, that white-toothed, wolfish smile. “No, I’ve never swung that way, honey. I’m strictly a ladies’ man.” He ushered her out of her office, whispering to her back, “And just for the record, Diane, you’re all-woman.”

      HER CHEEKS STILL BURNED when they finally exited the building. She’d never been so grateful for fresh air.

      “My car’s right over there,” she said, pointing to the left.

      “Nope, we’ll take mine,” John said. “I know I’m being arbitrary, but I prefer to drive.”

      After pausing a moment, she gave in. That was easy to do, and it would please him. She might have to be stronger on things that mattered, so she should store up some good credit in the meantime.

      When they reached the restaurant, the maître d’ greeted them both by name. “I have your table ready. Right this way.”

      He led them to the most secluded table in the restaurant. Diane supposed it would be good for private business talk, but she didn’t like feeling so isolated with John.

      When they’d placed their orders, she launched right into business. “Now, I’ve laid out a plan—”

      “Good. But I want to ask you something.”

      “Yes, of course,” she agreed, thinking he wanted to ask about her philosophy in investing.

      “Why did you say your parents considered you to be a mistake? Surely they don’t think so now.”

      Diane just stared at him, aghast. She couldn’t believe he’d asked such a personal question. No way would she answer it. Instead she began outlining her investment plans.

      “Wait. You didn’t answer my question.”

      “John, we’re here to discuss investing.”

      “Look, I know about investing. I just don’t have time to do it myself. Invest half of it in quality stocks that will grow slowly. Invest a quarter in strong stocks that might go up or down, and monitor them closely. And with the rest of it, try a few flyers. Now can we talk about you?”

      She blinked in surprise. “If you already knew what you wanted, why did we need to meet to discuss it?”

      “Because I wanted to get to know you.”

      “But—”

      “Isn’t a million enough? I don’t think I can pull out more right now, because I’m starting a new project, but—”

      “John, you don’t pay to get to know someone! That’s outrageous!”

      “But you seem resistant to the idea.”

      “But I’m not the kind of woman you like to date.”

      “I know, but I’ve gotten tired of those kind of women. Look, I asked about your parents because I think we may have something in common, that’s all. Is that so bad?”

      “No, of course not, but—” The conciliatory look on his face stopped her protest, softened her just enough. “Okay, you win. My parents are Alexander and Karen Black, quite famous archaeologists who teach at Southern Methodist University. They didn’t intend to have children. I was an accident. They’re very self-absorbed people. They hired someone to take care of me and, basically, abandoned me. I sometimes think I might’ve had a better life if they’d let someone adopt me when I was a baby.”

      “But aren’t they proud of what you’ve achieved?”

      She avoided John’s intense blue gaze. “I doubt they even know. They teach all year and travel all summer. I sometimes have Christmas dinner with them, unless they’re having too big a party. Then they don’t invite me.”

      John continued to stare at her. “That’s it? Once a year? They don’t call you?”

      “No.”

      “Doesn’t that hurt?”

      “It СКАЧАТЬ