Scandals from the Third Bride. Sara Orwig
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became silent when the sommelier came to the table to open wine for Cade and let him approve the selection. While Cade’s wine was being poured, a waiter came to pour her steaming black coffee and ice water for both Cade and her.
Once they were alone again, Cade raised his wineglass. “Here’s to our efforts tonight to help children.” His dark eyes were riveting and held her, fanning her desire. It was an effort to tear her gaze from him.
“I’ll drink to that,” she said, picking up her water and reaching out to touch Cade’s goblet lightly. His hand touched hers and he watched her as they sipped.
“How civilized we’re being,” she said in a tight voice, grinding out the words and unable to contain her fury. “All I want to do is shout and scream at you.”
“I can understand. We hurt each other, Katherine,” he said solemnly.
“Then why did you come back here to open it all up?” she asked, wondering again where each other came in and how she could possibly have hurt him? She couldn’t guess how he had twisted the past in his mind because there was no earthly way she had done anything at the time to cause him pain and she wanted to fling that fact right back at him, but she clamped her mouth shut.
“The past is far behind us and we’ve both moved on,” he said. “I expected to find you married with a family.”
“I’m married to my work,” she remarked. “You gave me a convoluted answer when I asked why you’re here and why you wanted an evening with me. What’s the real reason?”
Two
“I’ve seen some of the work you’ve done. It’s fabulous,” Cade said. “I have a project I want to discuss. I hope to hire you.”
She gazed at him coolly. “I won’t work for you, Cade. How dare you waltz in and expect to hire me!”
“I could have sent someone with a corporation name you’d never have recognized. You would have taken the job. As a matter of fact, until a few days ago, that’s what I intended to do. At first, I thought it would be best if our paths never crossed. I wasn’t any more eager to see you than you have been to see me.”
“So what made you change your mind?”
“I realized that as soon as you learned who owned the house, you might have walked out. Of course, I could have kept you from ever knowing. I have companies that you’d have to investigate to know that I own them, and I doubt if you check on all your clients.”
“No. I’ve never seen any need to do so.”
“I considered the possibility of staying out of it and keeping you from knowing, but later, it would come up sometime that there’s a house in Houston with your murals and a reporter would dig through the facts to find out who the homeowner is. Also, if I’m here, I can make sure I get what I want.”
“So you chose to come yourself. You want to hire my company’s services. Cade, I’m not for hire where you’re concerned. Get another ad agency. The world is filled with them.”
“They don’t all paint house murals and I don’t want your agency. It’s you I want to hire.”
“No! I won’t work for you.”
“I’ve been told by people in Houston, Chicago and L.A., that you’re the best in the country at painting murals, interior or exterior.”
“That’s good to hear,” she said, not really caring at the moment what he’d learned about her company or her. Why did he have to come back so damned handsome and so self-assured?
“I’ve heard that from people who had no idea where I grew up or that I knew you. You’re recommended by gallery people, museums and your former customers. I’ve seen your work and it’s top-notch. I told you, I prefer the best.”
“That’s flattering, but there are others who are skilled at their craft and they can create scenes that will be as artistic as any I paint,” she replied, certain that there was no way he could talk her into working for him.
“I’ve heard differently.”
“I promise you, there are others who can paint as well. Graham Trevor is one. He’s excellent, and there are plenty of examples of his work for you to view. A mural is a simple thing to do.”
“Right, Katherine, if you’re good at doing them. Otherwise, it’s a difficult challenge.” Cade leaned back in his chair with one hand on his hip. “I don’t want Graham Trevor or anyone else except you. Surely we can both get past what happened nine years ago.”
“No, I can’t! I don’t want to. I hate you for what you did and I don’t want to work with you now. How plain do I have to say it?” she cried. She hurt and he was opening old wounds. Worst of all, right now in the midst of all their bickering, she wanted his arms around her.
“I figured by now that you would have let go of the past. It’s been over a long time,” he said and his words cut like a knife. How could he dismiss the past so easily when it had hurt so badly? But maybe it hadn’t hurt him at all, she reminded herself.
“I’m sure it’s forgotten for you. Obviously, it was over for you before you left Texas nine years ago.”
“We don’t have to be together for you to accept me as your client. I’ll pay you well.”
“I’m sure you would, but I don’t want your money, your business or anything to do with you,” she said, absolutely certain that there weren’t any circumstances in which she would agree to work for him.
They halted their discussion because the waiter came to take their dinner order. Even though she preferred prime rib, she didn’t want to give Cade the satisfaction of thinking she was the same person as she used to be. “I’ll have the pecan-crusted trout,” she said and the waiter nodded. She glanced at Cade to see a questioning expression as he ordered lobster. As soon as the waiter left, Cade leaned forward.
“So prime rib is no longer first choice with you?”
“No. Most all of my choices have changed through the years.”
He stared at her with a look of speculation. “There’s no reason to argue all evening. Let’s settle this right now.” While he continued to watch her, he took out a cellular phone and spoke so quietly, she could barely hear him. He put away the phone and stood, coming around to hold her chair.
“Let me show you something,” he said, and her curiosity was stirred because she couldn’t imagine what he intended. Walking close beside her, he took her arm. Before they left the restaurant, Cade paused to tell the maitre d’ to delay their dinners until they returned. Her curiosity grew over where they were going. They left the building and crossed the street to one of Fort Worth’s best hotels.
“I have a room here. That’s why we’re eating at the Milington Club instead of the Petroleum Club tonight. The Milington is closer. I want to show you something that I intended to show you after dinner.”
She balked and stopped walking. “Your hotel room?”
“That’s where we’re going. I have blueprints of the home I’m building. It won’t hurt you to come up and look and then we’ll go right back for dinner.”
“I don’t need to see any blueprints,” she insisted. “We have nothing to discuss.”
“Yes, we do. I want to talk to you about murals for my house.”
“There isn’t enough money in the world for you to hire me to paint for you,” she said, facing him and touching his chest with her index finger. “No, Cade.” Seething, she burned and perspiration dotted her forehead. She wanted away from him. At any moment she was afraid she would lose the iron control she was exercising and let fly all the accusations she had stored up for nine long years. And that last day was as fresh in her mind as if it had happened yesterday. To her surprise,