Judy Christenberry - The Marrying Kind

“Oh, yeah. And pity the poor kids who have the wrong mother.” John grinned at her.

“I don’t agree,” Elizabeth said. “I had to learn to be a good mother. I had friends who helped me, and my mom. She taught me a lot.”

“I agree,” Diane said. “They even offer parenting classes for those who doubt their abilities.”

John seemed unconvinced. “Yeah, but you have to be interested in learning. My stepmothers only wanted a child to ensure that they got more money when the divorce came along.”

“You’re assuming they went into the marriage knowing it would end in divorce,” Diane commented.

“Honey, my dad’s famous for his marital problems. He chooses a woman by her beauty. He keeps her until she turns into a wife and bugs him about things he doesn’t want to do. That’s when he discovers she’s not the woman for him. By that time, a baby has come along, and the alimony and child support payments soon follow.”

“That’s a very cynical outlook, John,” Diane protested.

“I’ll have to introduce you to my father. Then you’ll understand.”

Annoyed, she turned to Elizabeth, looking for some safer conversation. “How old are your kids now?”

“One and a half, four and six.”

“They must require a lot of energy,” Diane guessed. “My friend Jennifer Carpenter—now Jennifer Barry—adopted three little girls close to those ages.”

“Three at once?” Elizabeth asked, her voice rising. “How brave of her!”

“Yes, but they’re so sweet. The three are sisters who were split up when their parents died. They’re so glad to be back together now.”

“Oh, yes, that’s wonderful,” Elizabeth said, tearing up just a little. “I can’t imagine my children being separated.”

Mark reached for his wife’s hand. “That won’t happen, honey. Remember, your sister and her husband said they’d take care of our kids if anything happens to us.”

Diane watched the tender way Mark looked at his wife, and it made her heart ache. What would it be like to have someone who understood, who cared, who prepared for the future?

Elizabeth straightened her spine. “I’m sorry, Diane. Sometimes I worry.”

“No need to apologize!” she exclaimed. “I found myself tearing up over my neighbor’s little girls. I’m just glad they found such a great home.”

John joined the conversation. “So Jennifer is a good mother?”

“Yes. She wasn’t sure she would be, so she took a parenting class. But she’s doing fine.”

Mark looked at John. “You sound like you know her?”

“I know about her. My father wanted to set me up with her.”

“She sounds like a catch,” Mark said. “Why’d you refuse?”

“Actually, I didn’t. I was too late. That’s how I met Diane.”

“Yes,” Diane hurried to add. “And it was a mistake.”

John turned to her, a smile dancing on his lips. “But not one I regret.”

How could she be alone with him?

The dilemma had kept Diane awake all night, and still plagued her this morning. She couldn’t walk away from a million-dollar investor, yet she couldn’t honestly accept John’s invitation to lunch.

Last night, after his incendiary comment at dinner, he’d kept the conversation light and general—till he leaned in close to invite her to discuss his “portfolio” at lunch tomorrow. From the rumbling sound of his voice, she wondered what he really had in mind.

Maybe she’d invite Mark to join them. He’d be the perfect buffer to keep them on a strictly professional basis.

After she worked up some preliminary projections for John’s investment, she called her coworker and made the offer. “I think John would be more at ease with another man there,” she added, hoping that would seal the deal.

But Mark didn’t fall for it. “I don’t think so, Diane. I got the idea he was determined to take you to lunch alone. He certainly didn’t mention inviting me when we were together last night.”

“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.