The Backup Plan. Sherryl Woods
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felt a whole lot better about it now, knowing that he had the respect of some of those same people who’d seen helping him and Bobby as their ticket into heaven. With the wisdom of age, Cord was just realizing that some of those folks were simply being generous because they’d seen two kids in trouble. They had honestly wanted to help put them on the right track.
It was a matter of pride, though, that he’d earned their respect, that they’d turned to him when they were ready to proceed with the Covington Plantation renovation. He hadn’t had to beg for the chance to bid, though he might have done it just for the opportunity to be a part of saving the house. As a kid he’d liked riding his bike out here.
He liked the stately old plantation house best early in the morning with the sun just starting to filter through the ancient trees and the sound of the birds breaking the silence. Sometimes as a boy, he’d sat on the front steps with a cold Coke in his hand and imagined he could hear the squabbles coming from the family inside or the distant singing of slaves working in the rice fields. Being here spoke to him of the past more clearly than any history teacher ever had.
He’d never want to go back to that sad time period, but now that he was all grown up, he liked knowing that he could preserve a little piece of it as a reminder of another era. More than that, he liked saving structures that had been meant to last, restoring their beauty and craftsmanship for future generations to enjoy.
Usually this half hour before his crew arrived was a tranquil time, but ever since Dinah Davis had come by the house in search of Bobby, there hadn’t been a peaceful moment in his life. That woman had gotten under his skin, just as she had years ago. A part of him wanted to put her in her place. Another part—the very male part of him—wanted to kiss that uppity expression off her face. He’d struggled with the same dilemma as far back as he could remember.
Okay, maybe not quite as far back as elementary school, but it had definitely crossed his mind starting with puberty. Even then he’d somehow known he would be better for her than Bobby, who’d followed her around like an adoring puppy. When he couldn’t stand his brother’s attitude a minute longer, he’d done something about it, something that had almost caused a permanent rift with his brother and had left Dinah hating his guts.
When his cell phone rang, he glanced at the caller ID and suffered a pang of remorse.
“Hey, Bobby,” he said, stuffing down the faint trace of guilt he felt over keeping his mouth shut about Dinah’s return. What was a little guilty silence, when the end result would be his brother’s happiness? “How’s it going in Atlanta?”
“We’re on schedule and under budget,” Bobby announced. “Which you would know if you read the reports I fax over there every damn day.”
Cord grinned. He enjoyed keeping up the pretense that he ignored all Bobby’s carefully detailed paperwork. It drove his brother nuts. “I believe I swept up a whole bagful of those reports just the other day. Summarize for me.”
Bobby did just that in tedious detail.
“Sounds like everything’s under control, then. You’re doing great work,” Cord praised. “That project’s going to be a real showcase for us and you deserve all the credit.”
The truth was that they made a great team. Bobby knew the construction trade almost as well as Cord did, but while Cord loved working with his hands and considered himself a skilled craftsman, Bobby excelled at staying on top of the details, working out cost projections and smooth-talking their backers. He was a natural for the Atlanta renovation project.
The Atlanta development was the most ambitious they’d done so far, encompassing an entire section of old buildings that had been destined for a wrecker’s ball until Bobby and Cord had put together a proposal and bid on the property. When it was finished, there would be shops, restaurants and apartments in high-ceilinged old buildings with glowing hardwood floors, beautiful crown molding and a dozen other historic touches rarely found in this day and age. They and their backers stood to triple their investment, to say nothing of what the finished project would do to move them into the ranks of the elite historical preservationists in the country.
Suddenly Cord recalled one of the first things Bobby had said. “Just how far ahead of schedule are you?”
“A few weeks. I’ll be back home before you know it, bro. I’ve got to tell you, I can’t wait. Living in a hotel room is getting on my nerves. I was thinking I might drive over this weekend. It would give us a chance to go over those other projects we’ve got lined up. We need to think about assigning someone to oversee them. There’s too much work for us to do it ourselves.”
Cord flinched. “No rush on that,” he said at once. “Just concentrate on wrapping things up in Atlanta. I’ve got everything here under control.”
“You still on speaking terms with the board at Covington?” Bobby asked worriedly.
Cord laughed. “Haven’t insulted anybody in a couple of days now, as a matter of fact.” Unless he took into account Dinah, but that was definitely not something he cared to share.
“You sure about that?” Bobby asked, his skepticism plain. “I know there was a big meeting this week and I know how you hate that kind of thing.” “We all survived it.”
“Any ruffled feathers need smoothing over?”
“None,” Cord assured him. “I was on my best behavior. I swear it.”
“Why don’t I find that nearly as reassuring as you evidently want me to?”
“Because you’re a suspicious kind of guy?” Cord suggested. Because he feared that sooner or later he’d slip up and mention Dinah, Cord balled up a piece of paper beside the mouthpiece of the phone. “Hey, Bobby, the connection’s going. We’ll talk again soon, okay?”
“Don’t you dare hang up on me. I know that trick,” he declared just as Cord hit the disconnect button.
Cord sighed, thanking his lucky stars that Bobby wasn’t the kind of man who asked about the latest gossip. When his phone immediately rang again, he ignored it.
The last thing Cord wanted to do was utter an outright lie. It was better for Bobby to keep right on working his tail off in Atlanta in blissful ignorance. Since Bobby also happened to have a fiancée, Cord could even tell himself he was being noble and protecting her interests as well.
Just then another fleeting image of Dinah Davis with her endless legs and lush curves popped into his head and made a liar out of him. That didn’t mean he intended to do anything about the attraction, he assured himself. He surely wasn’t going to go chasing after her.
But the best part of having known a female since childhood was the long-standing awareness of her weaknesses. Sooner or later frustration and indignation were going to kick in and Dinah was going to come to him.
Cord lifted his cup of coffee in a silent toast to predictability. God bless it! He’d gotten more women just by waiting them out than most men had with flowers and candy. Patience was a gift, no question about it. Luckily, he’d been born with an abundance of it.
4
Two weeks passed without a word from Bobby. Dinah was disappointed that he didn’t seem nearly as eager to renew their old relationship as she was. Or as she might be, she corrected. She wasn’t exactly sure what to expect. Was she just trying to find something to replace her career if she couldn’t conquer her post-traumatic stress issues and eventually go back to the network?
Acknowledging that possibility gave her a momentary twinge of guilt. Maybe Maggie was right. What right did Dinah have to disrupt Bobby’s life after ten years when she merely might be ready for marriage? Sure, at thirty-one her biological clock was probably ticking loudly, but she hadn’t even been listening to it until recently, not like a lot of women would be.
No, a relationship with Bobby was all about her desire to fill up her days with something that wouldn’t get her killed, to be around people who weren’t