Newlywed Games (23 page)

Not like she’d been.

Not like Brock sounds?

She frowned. It was true. Brock sounded lonely. She watched him as he went on, relating the glowing attributes of his older brother. “He was class president
all four years of high school, quarterback and captain of the football team, valedictorian, and always managed to have the prettiest girl in school for his girlfriend.” He took the ball from the dog and pointed it at Meghann. “I see he hasn’t lost his knack for that.”

She smiled self-consciously.

“I hope he appreciates you and tells you how lucky he is to have you and that you’re pretty.” He tossed the ball again. “Bruce is your basic all-American boy who excelled at everything he did. ‘Nothing that’s worth doing, is worth doing only halfway.’ It was always all or nothing with him. He knew what he wanted, went after it, and got it. I envied him that. Knowing what he wanted, that is. I suppose if I knew what I wanted, I could get it too.”

“Were you and Bruce close growing up?”

Brock shrugged his shoulders. “I guess so.”

An uncomfortable silence fell between them. She sensed he had said all he wanted to about Bruce and probably more about himself than he’d intended to reveal.

In that, Bruce and Brock were similar. They both held their thoughts and feelings tightly to themselves. And Meg was starting to wonder if she’d ever break through Bruce’s defenses.

The truth, Meg. The truth brings walls tumbling down.
…

She hugged herself tightly and wondered why lying was so easy, but giving someone she loved the truth was so hard. She didn’t have the answer. She only hoped she found it before it was too late.

“Back so soon?” George Phenton said, looking up from the work before him on his desk. “You just can’t stay away from this place.”

“George, how hard would it be to replace me?”

The older man lay his pen down on the papers and narrowed his eyes to scrutinize Bruce for a moment. “Is this where I’m supposed to tell you that the hotel couldn’t possibly function without you?”

Bruce put both hands on the front of the desk and leaned toward the general manager. “No, this is where you tell me you have everything under control and so well organized that the hotel can run without either one of us.”

George leaned back in his chair and laced his hands together behind his head, clearly undaunted by Bruce’s boldness. “This place could run smooth as silk for a month without either one of us—but I wouldn’t recommend it.” He pursed his lips. “What is this all about, Bruce?”

“I need some time away. ASAP.”

“Then take it.”

Bruce paced in front of the desk and raked his hand through his dark hair. “I can’t do that if I know it will leave you in the lurch.”

“The hotel will survive without you. I promise it will be standing upon your return. How long do you plan to be gone this time?”

“I don’t know. A couple of weeks…maybe indefinitely.”

“Does this mean I should hire a real assistant manager?”

Bruce stopped pacing and looked at the man. Fifteen years his senior, George had always been an anchor for Bruce. “Was I really that much trouble for you?”

“You did quite well. You learned quickly and were surprisingly useful, when you were here. I kind of enjoyed getting to tell
you
what to do.” George gave him a lopsided grin.

“And don’t think I didn’t notice.”

Smiling fully now, George picked up his pen and went back to work, studying the file before him. “Have a nice trip.”

Bruce turned to leave, then stopped. “One more thing, George. Give Miss Livingston a hundred dollar a week raise.”

“Oh?” The general manager looked up from his papers and paid attention. “You realize she hasn’t been in much for the last two weeks?”

“She’s been…doing some special work for me.” This time it was Bruce with a crooked grin.

“I see.” George considered him for a moment. “May I give you some sound fatherly advice on employer-employee relationships?”

“No.” Bruce turned to the door again and opened it this time. “And George, make that raise retroactive.”

“Just how far back does this raise go?”

“Christmas.” He knew he had shocked George, but he didn’t care. He was doing what he had to: spending more time with Meghann and keeping her out of his brother’s clutches.

“You’re asking for trouble.” George Phenton’s stern look was the last thing Bruce saw before exiting.

“I’ve already got as much as I can handle,” he said, as he closed the door.

This time when he returned home, he found Meghann and the others there. They were gathered in the kitchen as Meghann and Gayle prepared dinner; his mother was trying to help. She looked out of place even with an apron on. He doubted his mother had ever touched an apron before. This was new territory for her. And by the rigid look on his father’s face, this wasn’t territory he wanted her to cover.

Bruce came up behind Meghann and kissed her on the cheek. He held out a long, narrow velvet case to her. She stopped chopping the mushrooms and stared at the box. Slowly she set her knife down and took the box. Turning, she looked up at him. “What is this?”

“It’s a present for you.”

She looked down at it, then back up at him with a confused expression on her face. “Why?”

“Because he loves you, dear. Now open it,” her mother said.

“It’s for our two-month anniversary.”

“That’s not for eleven more days.”

The fact that she was keeping track, even in make-believe, pleased him. “Open it.” He was careful not to sound demanding, but he couldn’t help sounding eager.

She seemed to prolong the act of lifting the lid. Or was he just anxious to see if she liked what he’d brought her?

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed out. Then she did it. She looked up at him and gifted him with the most beautiful smile; her expression was warm, her eyes glowed…surely that was true affection he saw reflected in their depths? In any case, she enchanted him with that single look. It seemed as though they were the only two people in the room.

Bruce carefully removed the diamond cross pendant from its velvet case. “Let me put it on you.” He held it up by its delicate gold rope chain and reached around her neck to fasten it.

She fingered it reverently as her tear-filled eyes swept up to his face. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Though the others mistook her tears for joy, he could see a touch of sorrow in her eyes, and it broke his heart.

Why are you sad, Meghann? This was supposed to make you happy.

Would he ever figure this woman out? He hoped so. And he hoped it happened before he lost everything that really mattered to him.

Meghann stood before the mirror in the guest room she and her mother shared. The beauty of the cross sparkled in the light. She removed it from around her neck and turned the cross back and forth, watching the light dance within the carefully cut diamonds.

“It’s beautiful,” her mother said as Meghann carefully laid the pendant in its velvet case.

All this attention from Bruce felt wonderful…until
reality came crashing in. Appearances. That’s all it was. His actions were calculated moves. She should be grateful he played his role so convincingly, but with each passing day, she found it only broke her heart.

“He loves you very much.”

“Yes, so it seems.” She touched it one last time before turning off the light.

T
HE NEXT EVENING, THEY SAT DOWN TO WATCH A MOVIE.
The eight-foot screen slid down from its hiding place in the ceiling and dropped in front of the fireplace. Another box on the ceiling further back held the video projection unit. And the door off to the side of the fireplace housed all the other electronics.

Brock and Meghann had gone out to rent videos. But Meg hadn’t been sure what the others would want to see. When she couldn’t decide on a single movie, Brock insisted on renting all six that she was deliberating over.

At least having that many movies to watch would ensure her mother took it easy and didn’t overtax herself.

Meghann came out of the kitchen with two large bowls of freshly popped popcorn. She stopped and studied Bruce as he played host serving up sodas and Perrier from his junk food stocked dry bar.

She was struck by wonderment at this man. He so easily stepped into the role of her husband, yet asked for nothing in return. He never acted inappropriately or
carelessly. But then why should he? He wasn’t even attracted to her. He did such a good job of acting, though, that it confused even her at times.

Who was she kidding? He confused her
all
the time.

She thought back to the last few days, to the way he’d been treating her, to his gifts and the way he’d take her hand in his, the way he’d look at her.…He was only acting so loving, so caring because…because, why? She stared at him a moment longer before she remembered the bowls of popcorn in her hands and moved to join the others.

Ivan, sitting in the overstuffed green leather chair on the far side of the living room, presided over what he considered this little annoyance. Olivia, Mom, and Brock occupied the matching couch. And Bruce sat in the chair that was twin to the one his father was in. With all seats taken, Meghann opted for a nice spot on the white plush carpet.

Brock stood and offered her his seat.

“She can sit with me,” Bruce said quickly, taking her hand and gently pulling her into his chair.

Startled at first, she took up the challenge in his delicious brown eyes. She wasn’t exactly on his lap, she was more wedged between him and the chair arm, except for her legs, which she immediately removed from across his, making herself as comfortable as she could.

The chair accommodated them both, but the feel of his arm against her, his leg against hers, sent her heart into somersaults. Here’s hoping the movie was good enough to distract her!

Bruce pointed the remote and the show began.

Meg didn’t realize just how comfortable she was until she drifted off to sleep before the movie was a quarter of the way through. Her mother had had a restless night last night, so she hadn’t slept well, either. At least her mother had taken a nap, or Meghann would worry all the more. Soothed by the steady thump, thump, thump rhythm from within her pretend husband, she allowed herself to drift away on a dream and a prayer, serenaded by the sound of the movie and of his strong heartbeat in the background.

She woke sometime later to find herself being transported across the room by strong arms. “I can walk.”

Bruce stopped by her bedroom door and released her legs but kept his other arm securely around her. She couldn’t tear her gaze from his and licked her lips self-consciously. Her pulse quickened and her lungs didn’t seem to need air at all. She swallowed as he leaned closer. Surely he would stop, pull back as he’d done so many times before.

But he didn’t.

He kissed her tenderly, with a gentle reverence. Her mind scanned their surroundings for an audience. But there was no one. They were alone.

Her hope soared at the thought. And when his arm tightened around her and he deepened the kiss, her heart flooded with joy.

Bleak reality quickly came to light when the bathroom door clicked open and the sound of a throat clearing reached her ears.

Bruce tensed and broke the kiss, muttering something under his breath. He gazed down at her as if he wanted to say something, but Meg couldn’t meet his eyes. She was too afraid she’d weep at what she’d been hoping and what she now knew was true. They hadn’t shared a beautiful moment at all.

It had been the same as all the others. A kiss calculated to get caught.

“Why don’t you two get a hotel room?” This from Brock who stood somewhere behind Bruce out of her line of sight.

A muscle tightened in Bruce’s jaw.

Why did he look so upset? So they had been caught kissing. Wasn’t that the point, after all? “Good night,” she whispered.

“Good night, my love,” he whispered back. “Sleep well.”

His love? If only it were, this whole thing would be so much more bearable. She tore herself from his arms and escaped into the bedroom. Her eyes were awash with tears, her heart awash with the pain of dashed hopes. The lighting was dim enough, she hoped he hadn’t been able to see the tears gleaming there when she turned from him.

She leaned against the door clutching her chest.
Father God, I love him so much. Why can’t this be real?

No answer came. But she knew the answer. It was all a lie. A lie can never be truth. And it stood between her and her mother, her and Bruce…and most important between her and God.

She slid down the wall, feeling hollow and alone.
The shimmer of unshed tears he’d seen in her eyes confused him. What had he done to hurt her? He had kissed her first of all because he wanted to, and secondly, to gauge how she felt about him. For one, brief moment, hope had coursed through him. She’d leaned into him, and the small sigh that escaped her as he kissed her had made his head spin.

But then…

Then she pulled away, looking at him with such sorrow. Obviously she didn’t feel for him what he felt for her. Or was she already developing feelings for Brock and was sad he was the one to witness them?