Bride by the Book (Crimson Romance) (25 page)

Such was the state of Garner’s mind, he obediently ate a forkful of buttery grits. He rolled them around in his mouth absently and thought about Angie.

Straightening out the mess Vernon Brownwood had made at BrownWare wouldn’t leave her much time to develop her personal life. But a woman as determined as Angie would manage the time. If she wanted to. If she found someone she wanted to be with.

Garner gritted his teeth and flung down his fork. How was he supposed to digest his food thinking about Angie finding someone else?

“Looks like our theory was wrong, Dolly,” Cliff said, deadpan.

“What theory?” Garner snapped.

“We thought getting a little real butter inside you might oil your disposition,” Cliff said, brown eyes twinkling.

Garner managed a reluctant smile. “Sorry, Cliff. I’m not fit for human company these days.”

“You sure aren’t,” Cliff agreed. “Why don’t you take the day off and go fishing or something? You aren’t doing your fellow humans any good around here.”

Garner agreed with that. He was going to have to do something about Angie. If he just let her go without making an effort to get her back, he’d lose every bit of peace of mind he’d so painfully rebuilt the past few years. He’d also lose the heaven-sent chance to build a deep and lasting love with a woman who made his bones feel like water and his heart behave like a jumping bean.

Garner shot to his feet. He’d do it. He was flying to Palo Alto tonight. To hell with his pride. He needed Angie. He paid his bill and crossed the street to his own office, where he grabbed the mail from his box, carried it inside and dumped the stack on his desk. Locating the phone book from beneath a stack of files on his untidy desk, he called the airport in Little Rock about an evening flight to Palo Alto.

Then, after walking restlessly out to look at Angie’s vacant desk, he wandered back into his own office, propped his feet on the desk and thumbed through the stack of mail. It was barely six in the morning in Palo Alto, too early to start calling Angie. He would pass a little time then call her. If necessary, he would fly out this evening.

Not a single envelope enticed him to reach for the letter opener he kept handy, until he reached a single envelope made of high quality paper and bearing a local address he recognized. He grabbed the letter opener and slit it open haphazardly. It was a résumé for Miss Angelina Brownwood, experienced legal secretary.

Garner flung the document into the air, oblivious to the way it kited through the air on its way to the floor. He was already out the front door by the time the page landed.

• • •

Angie watched through the curtains of her living room and pressed a hand over her heart, which was threatening to pound its way out of her chest. So much for her worry that Garner might pick today to ignore the mail. He leaped out of his vehicle and charged up the sidewalk. His entire body sizzled with fury. She hadn’t expected Garner’s reaction to be anger.

Now that the time had come, she wasn’t sure she could carry off the scenario she had planned so carefully. She even wore one of her secretarial suits, complete with glasses, as if she was sitting around awaiting phone calls from employers.

And now she was about to find out if he still wanted her. If he’d ever wanted her. At the moment, she couldn’t tell.

But he had cared enough to open her résumé and come over at once. Surely, that meant something.

Angie winced as the front door shuddered beneath his knock. He was supposed to be curious, interested and perhaps even mildly annoyed. He wasn’t supposed to be
furious
.

Angie’s heart beat wildly as she hurried to the door. Garner looked tanned and fit and totally infuriated, and she loved him so much, she was about to burst.

She opened the door and said, “Yes?”

“There you are.” He reached for her and clamped her to his side. “I ought to sit down right here on the front steps and put you over my knee.”

“So you can spank me? You and what army?”

But she didn’t fight him as he carted her across the lawn. Not when she’d spent three months dreaming of this moment when she was back, more or less, in his arms again.

“You and I are going to have a little talk, Miss Angelina Brownwood. About that résumé of yours. You’d better have some darned good answers, because I am
not
in a good mood.”

Angie’s mouth twitched, but she refused to smile. “Fine. Where would you like to hold this … discussion?”

Garner smiled dangerously and opened the door of his Blazer. “We’re driving to the lake, where else? I don’t want any other would-be employers to interfere.”

“I don’t see any would-be employers around.” She let him half-lift, half-shove her into the Blazer.

“Good, because there had better not be any,” Garner snapped. “How, by the way, did you get Van Holden to agree to act as President of BrownWare? He strikes me as a man who can’t identify a chair unless it’s sitting in front of a computer.”

“It wasn’t easy.” Angie gripped her hands together in her lap. “I’ve spent most of the past three months dragging him off his computer long enough to learn a few aspects of the business other than programming.”

“In the middle of updating VP-Base?” he asked, turning down the road that led to his lake.

“We’ve got lots of young, eager programmers. Peter’s job is to guide them. He doesn’t need to do all the programming himself, regardless of what he may think.”

“Are you sure you should have left? This is bound to be a critical time.”

Angie stared out the window, blind for once to the branches brushing the windows. If this was a suggestion that she take herself back to California …

“Peter understands BrownWare and VP-Base better than anyone, and Daddy will be back in another month,” she said.

“Your father’s himself again?”

“When I told him what he was like before the surgery, I don’t think he believed me.” She sighed. “I don’t understand why I didn’t realize the problem sooner.”

“You were too mentally and physically exhausted trying to prove yourself to him.”

Beside him, Angie stared out the window. It had taken her several weeks of soul-searching to reach the conclusion Garner had just stated. “You’re right. When I left Cal Tech with a Master’s instead of a Ph.D., I felt like a failure. Daddy was obviously disappointed, so I began working every hour I could, trying to make him proud of me again.”

“And instead of making him proud, you couldn’t please him, because he slowly became more and more irrational,” Garner finished. “Well, you’ve just had the chance of a lifetime to prove yourself. How’d you like it?

“It was better this time,” she said quietly.

“Was it?” Garner turned down the graveled road leading to the lake and floored the accelerator. Tree branches and shrubs brushed the sides of the vehicle.

Angie grabbed for the dash when the Blazer hit a pothole. Her head almost hit the roof, and her glasses slid down her nose. Garner seemed tense and angry, but she could discern nothing from his conversation.

The Blazer burst out of the woods and into the clearing before the lake. Angie shoved her glasses back up and stared around appreciatively. The woods were the white-green of late summer, and the lake looked dark and cool.

She didn’t have long to admire her surroundings. Garner leaped out, slammed the door behind him, and stalked around to jerk open her door. He plucked the glasses off her nose and stuffed them in his shirt pocket.

“The glasses are part of my outfit.” Angie found it difficult to remain calm while Garner more or less frog-marched her toward his cabin. “I look too young without them.”

“Angie,” Garner said, biting out each word, “I know how old you are. I don’t need glasses to prove it to me.”

“Oh, yes?” She waited while he unlocked the door. “Is that why you were so eager to push me out of your office and back to Palo Alto? I’m now too old for the job?”

Garner marched her inside and slammed the door behind him. The small living room’s chief furnishing was a large, brown leather sofa. He sat her on it and took up a position in front of her.

“All right, Angie Brownwood,” he said. “Now, suppose you tell me just what the devil you mean by that résumé? Why is a hot-shot software executive like you hankering after a lifetime secretarial position in some guy’s office in this little town?”

“Did I indicate I was interested in a position in just any man’s office?” Angie sniffed. “No, I did not. I was very selective—”

“That’s not what I meant,” he said.

“You don’t have to yell.”

“I’m not yelling.” Garner lowered his voice. “I want to know why someone with your training wants to deliberately give up a dream position to move to a small town like this and take a dead-end job as a secretary.”

“I didn’t say I was looking for a dead-end job,” Angie said with enormous dignity. “I said I was looking for a lifetime job.”

“There’s a difference?”

“Of course, there’s a difference.” She sat primly straight, with her knees together and her hands laced in her lap. Garner was proving unexpectedly difficult, and she wasn’t quite sure how to deal with him. “You see, the problem is there aren’t that many positions open in Smackover for hot-shot software executives.”

Garner shoved his hands in his pockets. “If there’s one, I’ll be amazed.”

“Exactly.” She nodded. “So a wise job-seeker fits her skills to the jobs that are most likely to be available.”

“Angie, I am not interested in why you settled upon being a secretary. Believe it or not, I can even see a certain sense in it. What I want to know is what are you doing back here in Smackover when you could still be running a world-famous software company?"

“Being interim president of BrownWare was a challenging position,” Angie agreed.

Garner visibly gritted his teeth.

“But I’m tired of that sort of challenge,” she continued. “I’m ready for a whole new type of challenge.”

Garner said nothing. He stared at her with narrowed eyes.

Angie studied him. “I enjoy being a secretary. It’s fun to learn things out of books and brush up on my grammar skills.”

“How long do you think you’ll find it fun? How soon will you be looking around for a new challenge?” Clearly, Garner didn’t believe her.

“The trick is to stay on the lookout for new areas of challenge,” Angie said. “For instance, I’ve re-signed up for courses at the El Dorado Business College in business English and shorthand. After I’ve mastered those, they’ve got courses especially for legal secretaries, even paralegals.” She smiled happily. “They’ve got lots of interesting courses.”

“Well, that makes a lot of sense,” Garner snapped. “And just when are you going to have time to make a living if you’re spending all your time taking courses?”

Angie regarded him in all seriousness. “I’ll have time to
do
some living. There are lots of things out there to study besides computers. Well, I’m still a young woman, and I intend to do something about my dream.”

“Your dream?” Garner stared at her in bafflement. “What’s your dream?”

“I am going to rebuild my life,” she announced. “I’m going to learn about nutritious diets and jogging. I’m going to learn about fishing with a rod and reel. I’m going to learn about yards and birds and home decorating. And most of all, I’m going to learn a lot more about making love to a man.”

“
What
?” Garner thundered. “Oh, no, you aren’t, Angie Brownwood. If you think you’re going to make love to any man but me, you’re out of your mind.”

Angie deliberately widened her eyes. “Who says?”

“I do. And furthermore, you aren’t working in anyone’s office except mine.”

“Oh, really?” Angie put up her chin. “And what makes you think you can tell me where I can work and who I can make love to?”

“Because you belong to me, that’s why,” Garner yelled.

“That’s funny.” Angie frowned thoughtfully. “I don’t recall you saying anything about belonging to you before I left for Palo Alto.” Garner froze. He stood staring at her, looking as if she had just thumped him on the head with a brick.

“My apologies, Miss Brownwood,” he said at last, and took a step closer. “I should have realized you’re a woman who likes to do things by the book.”

“Books exist to teach people how to do things.” Angie watched him uncertainly.

He smiled suddenly, that rising-sun smile she loved seeing on his face. “And you’re an expert at using them, aren’t you?” He reached her side and knelt swiftly on the floor by her feet. “If you insist on going by the book, then who am I to refuse to accommodate you?” He reached for her hand. “Angie, I love you madly. Will you marry me?”

Angie wondered if she’d heard him correctly. “You love me madly?”

“Of course, I do.” He laughed, a sound of pure male triumph. “What’s more, you love me. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have set this up. You knew I’d take one look at that résumé and come charging over to raise hell with you about it.”

“If you already know it all, then why should I answer you?”

“Because if you don’t, I’ll probably drown my sorrows in a plateful of buttered grits.” He tugged her hand. “Just answer the question. This floor is hard, and my patience is waning.”

Angie gave him a beaming smile of happiness. “In that case, I’ll marry you.”

He remained where he was. “And?”

“And I love you, too,” she said, laughing.

“That’s more like it. I need you so much, Angie.” He rose and sat beside her on the sofa, drawing her into his arms. “I love you so much. Life hasn’t been worth living since you left.”

“Life in Palo Alto was never worth living,” Angie said drily. “Not if I have to show up at BrownWare every morning and make like Hitler to get Peter to pay attention to the business instead of the programming.” She lifted her face, seeking his kiss.

Garner held her tighter, looking anxiously into her eyes. “Are you sure you should have left before your father was able to take over?”

“I’m sure.” Angie leaned forward coaxingly. “The new VP-Base is due to go into beta-testing next week. All Peter will have to do then is issue press statements and cope with the bugs that crop up. And finish programming the Ra-thor and Lenora game.”