Hot Property (15 page)

The sarcasm in his tone instantly riled
Betsy. But she was determined to hide her agitation. “The down
payment isn’t a problem.”

“Oh? A rich uncle die or something?”

“Sometimes you are--”

“Don’t say it,” Skylar warned.

Silence.

Then, once their eyes held for what seemed
like an eternity, Betsy blinked. And out of the blue hit him with a
question on another subject. “Why did you recommend me to fill your
position on the bank board?”

More silence before the return of that smug
grin of his. “I couldn’t allow Stephanie to be the only female
member.”

“I see.”

“No. I don’t think you do, Betsy.” His voice
had come at her in that husky whisper. And when she looked up into
his eyes she saw extreme seriousness. “I can’t resign unless I know
you’ll accept the position.”

“Why me?”

He sighed heavily. “Stephanie is accustomed
to having her own way.”

“She doesn’t get her own way with me.”

“Precisely my point.”

“Wait a minute,” Betsy beckoned as he turned
to leave. But he didn’t. He stopped as asked. When he peered back
at her, Betsy proceeded. “I don’t understand.”

“You, Betsy Alexander, are the only woman I
know that will buck Stephanie when it’s necessary. She’ll have all
the other board members wrapped around her little finger before she
attends her first meeting.”

The only thing Betsy could do was watch him
continue with his exit.

She had no idea if a minute had passed or an
hour when she saw Mary standing in the doorway, a sly grin on her
face.

“How much did you hear?” Betsy asked after
she stood there too long without speaking.

“Part of it. Were you really asked to be a
board member?”

“Sort of. I suspect Shultz will be calling
here before the end of the day.”

Mary bubbled with so much excitement that
Betsy didn’t see how she had managed to sit down. But she had.

“Well what do I tell him if he calls while
you’re out?”

Betsy shrugged. “Tell him I’ll return the
call when I come in,” Betsy answered simply.

“So are you going to accept?”

Betsy didn’t answer right away because she
didn’t know what it was. Lately, the demands of work left little
time for anything else. Like Skylar, she’d be lax in her
responsibilities as a member as well. On the other hand, Skylar had
made a very good point about Stephanie not being able to get her
way in matters where she shouldn’t if Betsy sat on the board.

“I’d be serving with Steph,” she finally
mentioned to Mary.

“That reminds me, did you hear she’s getting
married?”

The last thing Betsy wanted reminding about
was that marriage and grumbled, “I heard.”

“For anybody else a New Year’s Eve wedding
would be like ending the year with love. For Stephanie, the date
means she’ll be able to file a joint tax return.”

Betsy broke out laughing. When she finally
got control of herself, she said, “That’s a good one, Mare.
Probably true too.”

“Of course it’s true. I just hope the sucker
she’s marrying knows what he’s getting.”

Betsy’s expression slowly grew serious.
“What sucker? Skylar’s just as shrewd as Steph.”

“What’s Skylar got to do with it?”

Betsy stared at Mary. She wasn’t any paler
than usual. Thinner, but not too thin. Maybe she had been working
too hard. No doubt about it, she was long overdue a vacation
because something was wrong with her. Why would she know Stephanie
was getting married if she didn’t know who to?

“Skylar’s who Steph’s marrying,” Betsy
finally answered.

Mary jumped up. “Well that’s not what the
paper says. I have it on my desk. I’ll go get it.”

Betsy watched her leave the office. But she
really wasn’t seeing her. Her head swam. She was beginning to
perspire and tremble. Her condition worsened when Mary bustled back
up the stairs with the newspaper.

She plopped it down on the desk under
Betsy’s nose. “There it is in black and white,” she declared,
pointing to the front page headline.

Betsy snatched up the paper, holding it only
inches from her eyes. She read the bold black headline. LOCAL
SOCIALITE TO WED.

Before Betsy allowed her gaze to move any
further south to the story, she closed her eyes and took a deep
breath. She was uncertain what she wanted to see when she located
the name of the groom to be.

Her eyelids flickered before opening fully.
She scanned the small typed print. First, she searched for Skylar’s
name. It was nowhere to be found. Then she found another name where
his should’ve been.

Gregory Allen and Stephanie Rogers are
planning a New Year’s Eve ceremony…

“Do you think it’s a misprint?” Betsy
questioned Mary even though her eyes never left the article.

“What misprint? I’m sure Stephanie wrote the
article giving strict instructions nothing be changed.”

“Oh God!”

“What’s wrong?”

Betsy lost her voice. Actually, she didn’t
know what to say. What had she done?

“Betsy, what’s wrong?”

She glanced up at Mary, knowing her face
must’ve drained to a ghostly shade. “I assumed it was Skylar. He
wasn’t using me. It was real, Mare.”

“You mean you and Skylar--”

“Of course not,” insisted Betsy. Then the
brief silence. “But we would have,” she confessed as if this was
the first time she realized the truth.

“You’re in love with him.”

Betsy could feel tears on their way. She was
on the verge of blocking them, her armor in place. But for what?
Mary was her best friend. And if she didn’t soon release some of
the building pressure she feared she might explode.

Instead of giving Mary an answer with words,
she opened the floodgates. By the time Betsy had squeezed out the
last gush of tears, Mary had come around the desk and was massaging
her shoulders.

“Get it all out.”

Once she had, Betsy began slowly raising her
head out of her hands. Still sobbing and sniffling, she dug into
her purse for a tissue. Found one, blew her nose, and muttered,
“I’m sorry.”

“For what? The day falling in love becomes a
crime, I better be in another world.”

Betsy didn’t fight the urge to smile.
Actually, she almost felt like laughing when she tilted her head
around to see the relieved smile on Mary’s face.

“Thanks friend,” Betsy said, patting Mary’s
hand that was draped over her shoulder.

“You’re welcome.”

The two exchanged a special smile of
understanding.

“Are you going to be okay?” Mary asked.

“I think so.”

“Hey, I got an idea. Why don’t you take the
rest of the day and--”

“No. Right now I need to work.”

Mary started to leave and stopped in the
doorway and looked back at Betsy. “Does he know you’re in love with
him?”

“No.”

“Tell him.”

Betsy listened, then watched Mary disappear.
Once upon a time she had considered what Mary advised, which
would’ve been the time to tell him. But now, well how could she
possibly tell him now?

Less than a minute later she heard Mary
shout warning from her office. “Brace yourself. The bride to be is
crossing the street heading this way. She doesn’t look happy.”

For some reason, that fact didn’t bother
Betsy in the least. She was rather anxious to see the beauty
queen.

“Is she in?” Betsy heard her demand to Mary
the second she entered the building.

Betsy surmised Mary pointed toward her
office or nodded since she didn’t hear her speak.

“You will not get away with this, Betsy
Alexander.”

Betsy arched her brow. “What’s that,
Steph?”

“You know damn well what. How dare you
consider that seat on the bank board when you knew how much I
wanted it?”

Betsy let her rant and rave. When she
finished, Betsy spoke. “From what I’ve been told, you still have
the appointment you were promised--”

“But that’s not until after the New Year,”
Stephanie reminded as she angrily paced back and forth in front of
Betsy’s desk.

Betsy leaned back in her seat; a smile
played around her mouth. Now she understood what had riled the
woman so. And it tickled her pink. “Now I get it. You’re upset
because I’ll be the first woman on the board, right?”

Betsy watched her plop down in a chair in
the most unladylike fashion.

Stephanie stewed for several seconds. Then,
she looked across the desk at Betsy and smiled in a coaxing manner.
“Be a good girl, Betsy, and tell them you’re not interested.
Okay?”

Betsy saw red when she called her a girl
again. “I’ve made up mind, Steph. I’m going to be the first female
to sit on that bank board.”

Stephanie’s eyes narrowed as she stood and
strutted toward the stairs. She stopped on the top step and craned
her neck around before commencing her threat. “You’ll regret
this.”

“Don’t think so,” Betsy stated
matter-a-factly.

Then she saw Stephanie was about to proceed
down the steps. But Betsy couldn’t allow her to leave just yet. “By
the way,” she began in a raised voice, “congratulations again on
your engagement.”

“Congratulations to you too,” hissed
Stephanie, “because you just got yourself uninvited to the
wedding.”

Chapter Ten

Betsy’s last two appointments of the day
cancelled. Any other day that would not upset her. But today wasn’t
a day she wanted spare time on her hands. In fact, she’d be happy
if the entire evening was filled with appointments. But it
wasn’t.

She didn’t need endless hours to think; to
reconsider going to Skylar and explaining--what? That she’d thought
he was using her. That she’d get down on her hands and knees if
only he’d forgive her. If only they could go back to that morning
in the donut shop and let the magic continue from there.

Well my dear, Miss Sensible tuned in; you
can swallow your pride and beg forgiveness. Or, you can keep your
armor in place and proceed as an independent woman, one that
doesn’t need a man running her life. Besides, loving the man openly
will only lead to certain heartbreak all over again down the road.
It always does.

And just because he’s not the one marrying
Stephanie doesn’t mean he was looking for more than a little fling.
He never admitted to loving you. Nor had he committed himself to
more than a one time roll between the sheets.

Betsy had listened. She even weighed the
magical sensations that he’d evoked in her to the pain of her heart
being broken. In the end, she decided the pain was too severe. A
life threatening risk she wasn’t willing to take.

She left the office and went home hoping to
dive into a household project to pass the hours. Needless to say,
nothing short of plopping in front of the television sufficed. And
that just wouldn’t do. Not when the beautiful fall day beckoned her
to come out and enjoy.

When she went outside and hopped on her
motorcycle, she knew it was exactly what she wanted to do. She sped
in that same direction she most always rode.

As she neared her destination, she felt her
nerves tighten. A combination of fear and excitement tugged at her
insides. If the bank approved her loan she would’ve kept that first
promise she made to herself all those years ago. Both promises
fulfilled since she had decided to keep her guard firmly in place
around men at all times, especially around Skylar Blakewood. If the
bank happened to turn down the loan request-well, she just wouldn’t
think about that. She couldn’t.

Betsy caught sight of that magnificent piece
of architecture that graced the hilltop. She inhaled deeply,
savoring the sight.

Instead of taking the next second to glance
at the road to see if she was too close to the edge or center line,
her eyes slowly looked down the hillside.

“My God!” she gasped in thrilling disbelief
by the sight. But that was a split second before she gave out a
scream when she flew over the handlebars.

On impact of hitting the hard ground she did
a double somersault before she sprawled out on her back in the tall
patch of clover.

The sound of the ground vibrating beneath
her sent her scrambling to get up. She didn’t have to see him to
know it was the sound of Skylar running to her aide that was
causing the earth to move.

He came into view as he charged toward her.
His breath was heavy on her as he reached down to help her up.

“Are you all right?” he asked with panic on
his face and in his voice.

Betsy felt too embarrassed to look him in
the eyes and brushed off her pants when she answered. “I’m
fine.

“Did you blow a tire or--”

Betsy finally met his gaze just in time to
see the deep concern. “Nothing that drastic. Guess I took my eyes
off the road too long and smacked into the bank.”

“Do you do this sort of thing often?” This
question had come with an amused grin.

She averted her gaze to the hillside where
she’d been looking right before she wrecked. “Only when something
so eye-catching grabs my attention.”

Skylar stared at the hillside. “So you were
looking at the trees I just finished planting.”

The trees and you, she almost said but
instead just nodded in acknowledgment.

“Little buggers, aren’t they? But in ten
years I guarantee they’ll be the fullest and prettiest bunch of
Christmas trees from here to Timbuktu

Betsy laughed. “I haven’t heard that--” she
broke off. Her expression stone-cold-sober.

“You were saying?”

She was about to say she hadn’t heard that
saying since her dad said it to her when she was a little girl. One
of the occasions he came home after being away for what seemed like
an eternity.

Betsy had asked him where he’d been and he
told her Timbuktu. Then he chuckled as he scooped her up in his
arms and swung her around as if he was the happiest man alive.