Debbie Macomber - Home for the Holidays - The Forgetful Bride / When Christmas Comes

If he was making fun of her, she didn’t appreciate it. She was attractive, she knew that, but she certainly wasn’t waiting for anyone to place a tiara on her head. “Thank you,” she repeated grudgingly.

He gave an exaggerated sigh. “How are our children doing? What were their names again?” When she didn’t answer right away, he added, “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.”

“Barbie and Ken,” she muttered under her breath.

“That’s right. I remember now.”

If Joe hadn’t drawn the attention of her co-workers before, he had now. Cait could have sworn every single person standing by the elevator turned to stare at her. The hope that no one was interested in their conversation was forever lost.

“Just how long do you intend to tease me about this?” she snapped.

“That depends,” Joe responded with a chuckle Cait could only describe as sadistic. She gritted her teeth. He might have found the situation amusing, but she derived little enjoyment from being the office laughingstock.

Just then the elevator arrived, and not a moment too soon to suit Cait. The instant the doors slid open, she stepped toward it, determined to get as far away from this irritating man as possible.

He quickly caught up with her and she swung around to face him, her back ramrod stiff. “Is this really necessary?” she hissed, painfully conscious of the other people crowding into the elevator ahead of her.

He grinned. “I suppose not. I just wanted to see if I could get a rise out of you. It never worked when we were kids, you know. You were always so prim and proper.”

“Look, you didn’t like me then and I see no reason for you to—”

“Not like you?” he countered loudly enough for everyone in the building to hear. “I married you, didn’t I?”

C ait’s heart seemed to stop. She realized that not only the people on the elevator but everyone left in the office was staring at her with unconcealed interest. The elevator was about to close and she quickly stepped forward, stretching out her arms to hold the doors open. She felt like Samson balanced between two marble columns.

“It’s not the way it sounds,” she felt obliged to explain in a loud voice, her gaze pleading.

No one made eye contact with her and, desperate, she turned to Joe, sending him a silent challenge to retract his words. His eyes were sparkling with mischief. If he did say anything, Cait thought in sudden horror, it was bound to make things even worse.

There didn’t seem to be anything to do but tell the truth. “In case anyone has the wrong impression, this man and I are not married,” she shouted. “Good grief, I was only eight!”

There was no reaction. It was as if she’d vanished into thin air. Defeated, she dropped her arms and stepped back, freeing the doors, which promptly closed.

Ignoring the other people on the elevator—who were carefully ignoring her—Cait clenched her hands into hard fists and glared up at Joe. Her face tightened with anger. “That was a rotten thing to do,” she whispered hoarsely.

“What? It’s true, isn’t it?” he whispered back.

“You’re being ridiculous to talk as though we’re married!”

“We were once. It wounds me that you treat our marriage so lightly.”

“I…it wasn’t legal.” The fact that they were even discussing this was preposterous. “You can’t possibly hold me responsible for something that happened so long ago. To play this game now is…is infantile, and I refuse to be part of it.”

The elevator finally came to a halt on the ground floor and, eager to make her escape, Cait rushed out. Straightening to keep her dignity intact, she headed through the crowded foyer toward the front doors. Although it was midafternoon, dusk was already setting in, casting dark shadows between the towering office buildings.

Cait reached the first intersection and sighed in relief as she glanced around her. Good. No sign of Joseph Rockwell. The light was red and she paused, although others hurried across the street after checking for traffic; Cait always felt obliged to obey the signal.

“What do you think Paul’s going to say when he hears about this?” Joe asked from behind her.

Cait gave a start, then turned to look at her tormenter. She hadn’t thought about Paul’s reaction. Her throat seemed to constrict, rendering her speechless, otherwise she would have demanded Joe leave her alone. But he’d raised a question she dared not ignore. Paul might hear about her so-called former relationship with Joe and might even think there was something between them.

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

She nodded. At the very mention of Paul’s name, her knees went weak. He was everything she wanted in a man and more. She’d been crazy about him for months and now it was all about to be ruined by this irritating, unreasonable ghost from her past.

“Who told you?” Cait snapped. She couldn’t imagine Lindy betraying her confidence, but Cait hadn’t told anyone else.

“No one had to tell me,” Joe said. “It’s written all over you.”

Shocked, Cait stared at Joe, her heart sinking. “Do…do you think Paul knows how I feel?”

Joe shrugged. “Maybe.”

“But Lindy said…”

The light changed and, clasping her elbow, Joe urged her into the street. “What was it Lindy said?” he prompted when they’d crossed.

Cait looked up, about to tell him, when she realized exactly what she was doing—conversing with her antagonist. This was the very man who’d gone out of his way to embarrass and humiliate her in front of the entire office staff. Not to mention assorted clients and carpenters.

She stiffened. “Never mind what Lindy said. Now if you’ll kindly excuse me…” With her head high, she marched down the sidewalk. She hadn’t gone more than a few feet when the hearty sound of Joe’s laughter caught up with her.

“You haven’t changed in twenty years, Caitlin Marshall. Not a single bit.”

Gritting her teeth, she marched on.

“Do you think Paul’s heard?” Cait asked Lindy the instant she had a free moment the following afternoon. The New York Stock Exchange had closed for the day and Cait hadn’t seen Paul since morning. It looked like he really was avoiding her.

“I wouldn’t know,” Lindy said as she typed some figures into her computer. “But the word about your childhood marriage has spread like wildfire everywhere else. It’s the joke of the day. What did you and Joe do? Make a public announcement before you left the office yesterday afternoon?”

It was so nearly the truth that Cait guiltily lowered her eyes. “I didn’t say a word,” she defended herself. “Joe was the one.”

“He told everyone you were married?” A suspicious tilt at the corner of her mouth betrayed Lindy’s amusement.

“Not exactly. He started asking about our children in front of everyone.”

“There were children?”

Cait resisted the urge to close her eyes and count to ten. “No. I brought my dolls to the wedding. Listen, I don’t want to rehash a silly incident that happened years ago. I’m more afraid Paul’s going to hear about it and put the wrong connotation on the whole thing. There’s absolutely nothing between me and Joseph Rockwell. More than likely Paul won’t give it a second thought, but I don’t want there to be any…doubts between us, if you know what I mean.”

“If you’re so worried about it, talk to him,” Lindy advised without lifting her eyes from the screen. “Honesty is the best policy, you know that.”

“Yes, but it could prove to be a bit embarrassing, don’t you think?”

“Paul will respect you for telling him the truth before he hears the rumors from someone else. Frankly, Cait, I think you’re making a fuss over nothing. It isn’t like you’ve committed a felony, you know.”