Irene Brand - Love at Last

Concluding from his comments that he lived alone, Lorene glanced at his left hand. No ring on the third finger. Her heart fluttered slightly at the implication and her fingers tightened on the coffee cup. “You aren’t married?”

“No.”

She met his eyes briefly, but lowered her gaze when he continued, “You don’t have a ring, either. Why?”

“That’s a question I’ve often asked myself,” Lorene admitted, “but I’ve never come up with a satisfactory answer.” Her eyes clouded with memories of the past, and Perry moved toward her.

“Mr. Kincaid wants to see you,” Alma said over the intercom, breaking the tension between them. The door opened immediately and a thin beanpole of a man barged into the office.

“Are you Miss Harvey?” he said, coming toward Lorene with outstretched hand.

Perry cupped Lorene’s elbow and helped her to stand.

“Lorene Harvey, meet Gaston Kincaid, chairman of Woodston’s bicentennial commission.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t on hand to meet you,” Kincaid said, pumping her hand. “I contacted the bank by phone and learned you were in town. I’d received the e-mail message that you were replacing Cranston, but I didn’t know when to expect you. I trust Professor Saunders has taken care of you.”

Perry flushed slightly, but Lorene answered smoothly, “I’ve only been here a short time, and we haven’t gotten around to discussing the PR agenda.”

“I have an engagement tonight,” Kincaid said, “but I’ll notify the commission members that we’ll meet tomorrow evening. Perry can give you a file outlining our plans, or do you have what we sent Cranston?”

“Unfortunately, Kenneth deleted his records from our computer system before he left. But I can read through the file tonight and look around town tomorrow. Perhaps you and I should have a private conference before the meeting?”

“I’m a very busy man, so I can’t give you much of my time,” Kincaid said, “but Perry can help you. Will you take Miss Harvey out for dinner tonight?”

“It will be a pleasure. Since the fall quarter has started, my schedule is flexible. I’ll give Miss Harvey all the help I possibly can.”

“Good! Good!” Kincaid said, and hustled out of the office with an abrupt wave of his hand. Shaking his head, Perry moved to close the door.

“Kincaid is one of the college trustees, and he twisted my arm to serve on the celebration commission.” With a slight grimace, he added, “His first priority is promoting himself and his business, and then he turns the rest of his attention to steering the course of this college. He has his good points, but he can be overbearing.”

He sat beside her again. “Now, where were we?”

The phone rang, and with a look of annoyance Perry picked up the receiver on his desk and answered. He concluded that call, started back to the couch and the phone rang again. Perry’s handsome features faded into a frown when he took the second call. What was the matter with Alma? She usually held all calls when he was in a conference. Was she deliberately interrupting his conversation with Lorene? It must have been obvious to her that they knew each other. He didn’t need Alma’s interference in his attempt to prevent Lorene’s immediate departure from Woodston.

“We’ll never manage any privacy here,” Perry said when he finished that conversation, “so we’ll talk this evening over dinner. I prefer a restaurant out of town. If we stay in Woodston, we’ll meet too many people who know me and want to visit.”

Lorene knew it wasn’t prudent to have dinner with Perry, but she’d seldom displayed any caution in her relationship with him.

She looked at her watch. “I’ll enjoy having dinner with you. After all,” she added with a grin, “Mr. Kincaid practically ordered you to entertain me. It may take quite a while to go over Woodston’s plans, but I can work late tonight.”

“Where are you staying?”

“At Riverview Ridge, the B and B on the outskirts of town. My travel agency gave it a four-star rating. The apartment I’m renting is in the back wing, facing the river.”

“You made a good choice. I’ll pick you up at six-thirty.”

Already having second thoughts, Lorene panicked at the thought of spending an evening alone with Perry. “Do you think it’s wise for us to do this?”

“Probably not,” he admitted honestly, “but I have to know why you deserted me. It’s weighed on my mind for years.”

“That period of our life is over, so maybe we shouldn’t rake up painful memories that won’t do either of us any good, but…” Her lips trembled and she pressed a hand against them. “But I do want to spend some time with you, Perry. I’ll be ready.” She gave him her cell phone number. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

“I won’t change my mind.”

An eager light flickered in Perry’s black eyes, filling Lorene with conflicting emotions. Apprehension swept over her, and she knew she should cancel this dinner. If Perry wanted to resume their previous relationship, did she have the willpower to resist him? Or did she even want to resist?

Traveling toward Riverview Ridge, Lorene knew that she should find someone else to take this assignment. She pulled to the curb of a tree-shaded street and telephoned her office. After talking with several members of her staff, she conceded that it was impossible for anyone else from the agency to come to Woodston for several weeks. She had two choices—back out on the firm’s commitment to Woodston or stay and handle the promotion herself. Accepting the inevitable, she drove on.

If she had to stay in Woodston for two months, Lorene was pleased that she’d have a comfortable place to live. When she’d checked in at the B and B earlier in the day, she’d been delighted with her choice. The white frame 1850s story-and-a-half cottage had enormous ivy-covered redbrick chimneys. The house was T-shaped, with dormer windows set in the front and rear sections of the main structure’s roof. A small front porch was in Queen Anne style, and a long screened-in back porch extended the full length of the stem part of the building. Green shutters graced the long, narrow windows on the first floor.

The entrance to the two-room apartment was through a private door on the back porch and up narrow, steep steps. According to the proprietor, Dottie Montgomery, this had once been the care-taker’s quarters, but she’d had it renovated into an apartment. The Montgomerys also had three single rooms in the main part of the house for rent. But Lorene needed space to accommodate her computer and other office equipment she’d brought with her.

Dottie Montgomery, a buxom, hospitable blonde in her mid-sixties, met Lorene on the porch with a glass of lemonade in her hand. Pointing to a round table circled by three chairs, the landlady set the lemonade on the table and said, “Sit down and rest a spell. I’ll have my husband carry up your things. Climbing those steps can get tiresome when you’re loaded down with suitcases.”

But Dottie seemed to be talkative, and right now Lorene was in no mood for visiting. What she really wanted to do was to go somewhere, scream at the top of her voice and release the pent-up frustration that had been burgeoning through the deepest recesses of her being since she’d encountered Perry two hours ago. In her present frame of mind, she worried that she couldn’t be polite to Dottie, so she said, “Thank you, but I’ll need to settle in to my apartment and get ready to start working tomorrow.” She took a deep swig of the lemonade. “That really is delicious. Thank you.”

“You gonna eat dinner here? I serve breakfast and dinner.”

“Not tonight. Perry Saunders, cochair of the bicentennial commission, is taking me out for dinner so we can discuss plans for the celebration. And I’ll prepare my own breakfast, too. My working hours will be irregular, so I’ll notify you on a day-to-day basis when I want to eat dinner with you. Will that be satisfactory?”