Christmas Babies. Ellen James
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was a mistake. And so, too, it seemed, was C.J.
“Tell me, Bryan. Why did you come to me on this one?”
“You have a reputation for imaginative thinking.”
“I also have a reputation for being filthy rich,” she remarked.
“That, too,” he said easily.
She almost smiled. “Funny thing is, Bryan McKay, you have a reputation for picking winners. But this time…I just don’t see it. For one thing, it’s a lousy location. Nobody wants to go anywhere near that part of town anymore. Nothing you build there is going to change that.”
“This group is going to change a lot of things,” he argued. “They have a certain vision—”
“Oh, no. When people start getting visionary, it always means trouble. Bryan, I’m as idealistic as the next poor schmuck, but I also believe in confronting reality. From what I’ve heard, so do you. Why this fanciful turn of yours?”
She was getting on his nerves, but he didn’t actually have a good answer for her. This wasn’t the first time he’d gambled on an idea that seemed impractical or even impossible at first. But there was something special about this project, something that captured his excitement in a way few other ideas had.
C.J. thumbed through the prospectus he’d handed her. “Sure, all the figures look fine on paper,” she said disparagingly.
Bryan found himself comparing her to Danni, and couldn’t imagine two women more different from each other. Maybe Danni was elusive in her own way, but she was also completely…genuine. Bryan liked the sound of that word. It suited Danni. He couldn’t imagine her deliberately creating an aura of mystery, couldn’t picture her staging an entrance or an exit for effect. Which was what C.J. was doing at the moment—staging her exit. She flicked her hand in the air, and a younger woman who had remained unobtrusive until now materialized to stand a respectful distance away. Bryan wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d curtseyed to her boss.
C.J. tossed the prospectus toward her assistant; the woman turned out to be a good catch.
“I’ll look the figures over again as a personal favor. But I wouldn’t get my hopes up, Bryan, if I were you.”
“Message received,” he said. “I won’t hold my breath waiting for your call.”
She treated him to another of her challenging looks. “Oh, I will call you,” she said. Was she actually flirting with him? Then she rose from her chair and swirled out of the restaurant, assistant in her wake.
Bryan finished his beer, paid the tab and wandered outside. Old Town was best at night like this, the ancient adobe buildings mellow in the golden spill of lanterns. He paused at the tiled fountain in the plaza where passersby tossed their coins for wishes and good luck. The flute music still played from somewhere just out of sight…wistful, restless. Reminding Bryan of Danni Ferris all over again.
When he let himself into his apartment a short time later, the phone was ringing. He picked it up, said hello, and heard her voice. It was oddly subdued.
“Hello, Bryan. I…can’t make it tonight, after all. I’m sorry.”
“What gives, Danni?” He seemed to say that to her a lot.
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. And then, all in a rush she continued, “I was supposed to tell you something tonight. But I chickened out. I know that as soon as I tell you…you’ll despise me. And I don’t think I can bear it.”
She had a habit of speaking in riddles. “Come over,” he said. “We’ll talk it out. Nothing can be as bad as you make it sound.”
She was quiet at that, so quiet he almost thought he’d lost the connection.
“Danni,” he asked, “still there?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice low. She paused again. “Bryan what made you show up at my office last night?”
“I wanted to see you.”
“And when you saw me,” she continued, “didn’t anything seem strange to you? Didn’t anything seem different?”
He couldn’t figure out where she was headed. “You seemed,” he said honestly, “more beautiful than ever.”
If he thought he was going to flatter her, he was wrong. The silence on the other end of the line was now potent.
“Danni—”
“Goodbye, Bryan. I can’t see you anymore.” She hung up abruptly, without another word.
He gazed thoughtfully at the phone and then he, too, hung up. “What the hell was that all about?” he muttered.
DANNI FOUND HER SISTER kneeling in the garden, digging up bulbs. Kristine wielded her spade with rather more force than necessary, the rich dark earth building up around her and the poor bulbs tossed aside unceremoniously.
“Didn’t you and Ted plant those together?” Danni asked. “The first year you were married.”
Kristine pushed aside a strand of hair, leaving a dirt smudge on her face. “I’m sick of these damn tulips,” she muttered.
“Kris, you always loved those flowers.”
“It’s time for a change.” Another bulb went flying. “Why, it’s almost Thanksgiving. And then Christmas…and then a brand-new year. A perfect time to completely overhaul my life.”
Danni knelt beside her sister. “Kris—talk to me.”
Kristine ducked her head, the blond hair falling forward again to obscure her face. “No doubt you want to know every little fact about last night. You want to know all about how I confessed to Bryan, and what he said in return, and…and every humiliating detail.”
Danni regarded her sister. “I would like to know that it’s taken care of at last.”
Kristine didn’t even seem to be listening. “Can you imagine what it’s like, Danni? To have a husband who no longer wants you.”
“From what I saw yesterday on the golf course,” she said, “you and Ted may still have a lot to work out. But he still cares about you a great deal. No one could get that angry, and not care.”
“You don’t know, Danni. You don’t know what a man can do to make you feel…completely undesirable. Completely unwanted. After that, there’s not much he can do to convince you otherwise.”
“Kris, what happened? What did Ted do to make you feel this way?”
“I can’t talk about it,” Kristine said, gripping her spade. “I just can’t. I can’t say it out loud…don’t ask me to, Danni.”
Danni had never seen her sister like this. Kristine had been many things in her life—impetuous, thoughtless, self-centered…extravagantly penitent when she realized she’d strained the limits of a friendship. But she had never been this way—so despairing, and so unsure of herself.
“Kris, if you’d only talk to me,” Danni said gently. “Maybe I can help—”
The spade was digging again. “Don’t even try, Danni. All you really want to know right now is what happened with Bryan. Well…I’ll tell you.” She sounded defiant, her words recklessly gathering speed. “I went to meet Bryan last night, and I told him the whole sorry situation. I told him how I’d pretended to be you, and how you hadn’t known anything about it until it was too late. I asked him not to blame you at least. But he wouldn’t listen. He told me…he told me he was disgusted with both of us, and he never wanted to see either one of us again!”
DANNI JUST KNEW it was going to be a lousy Thanksgiving. Of course, that was a safe bet—Thanksgiving at her parents’ house always turned out to be a dismal failure. Every year her mother and father tried a different combination of guests. And every