Sentimental Journey (2 page)

When Jessica had first noticed him standing at the crosswalk, there had been an impression of a man on his way somewhere. Now he seemed prepared to stand on the street corner and chat away the day. It was a confusing reversal.

"What about your parents? They're well, I hope," he commented.

Did he know them, too? "Yes. Daddy retired two years ago. They moved to Florida so mother could be near the grandchildren." Jessica wondered if she should be telling him all this. She didn't even know him. Of course, there was a lot he seemed to know already.

"And your brother, did he get his degree from Harvard?" There was something cynical, almost sardonic, in the question.

"Yes. He joined a law firm in Memphis. He's doing quite well." Jessica found herself defending her older brother. She thought she had detected a note of sarcasm when the man had referred to Harvard and it irritated her.

"A Thorne couldn't do any less than very well for himself." The man smiled cruelly when he said it, and behind the joking response, Jessica suspected a taunt. "I never did ask—did Jordanna marry that wealthy Radford man?"

"As a matter of fact, she did, but money had nothing to do with her choice." Jessica bristled. "She happens to love Tom."

"Did I imply otherwise?" He seemed genuinely taken aback by the suggestion. "I apologize for my choice of adjectives to describe Radford. I meant nothing by it."

Was he sincere or merely acting? Jessica couldn't tell. She had been anticipating that he would introduce himself, but obviously he wasn't going to.

"I'm afraid I can't place you." She forced him to make an introduction. "You do look familiar, but…"

"I doubt that we've met before," he said, not at all disconcerted. He withdrew his hand from his pants pocket and offered it to her. "The name is Hayes, Brodie Hayes." His name brought her memory of him into clear focus and a chili shivered down her spine. "You're Jordanna's sister, but I don't know your name."

Shock at his identity had whitened her face. Through the tightness in her throat, she squeezed out the answer, "Jessica."

Automatically she reached to shake his hand. The instant contact was made, warm skin against warm skin, she pulled her hand free.

Brodie Hayes! Her disbelieving eyes swept over the expensive clothes he wore, the fine leather shoes visible beneath the precise crease of his trousers, and the large diamond ring on his finger. Only after these changes were noted did her gaze return to see the bemused and mocking look on his rawly masculine features.

"You do remember me, don't you?" he said.

"I've heard about you." Jessica recovered some of her poise. "I believe I saw you once or twice."

"I vaguely remember that Jordanna had a little sister?" Brodie Hayes admitted. "A cute little thing with braces on her teeth."

Jessica didn't smile, nor attempt in any way to reveal the perfect set of white teeth. "You seem to have done very well for yourself, Mr. Hayes," she commented a trifle frigidly.

"Brodie," he corrected, and glanced down at his suit, giving the impression that its cost was of little importance. "I've come a long way from the poor boy who lived on the wrong side of the tracks."

A long way, Jessica agreed silently. He was a rough diamond that had been cut and polished into an expensive gem. But the outer look didn't change the fact that inside he was still that hard, rough diamond capable of cutting through anything.

Finally Jessica obeyed the impulse that had become embedded in her mind from the first moment he had looked at her. "I know I must be keeping you from something important. It was nice seeing you again."

Before she could take a step away, he was speaking. "You're not keeping me from anything." Brodie Hayes disposed of that excuse.

"Surely you must have some old friends you want to look up," she insisted.

"My old friends?" He seemed to consider the idea with bitter regret. "Unfortunately they wouldn't feel comfortable with me anymore. That's one of the prices you pay when you climb the ladder, Jessica. You leave people behind. It isn't often that you can help them come up with you."

"If they're your friends—"
Jessica started to protest.

"If you meet someone you haven't seen in years and if that person has made a success of himself while you're still struggling to make ends meet, you get the feeling you're a failure, whether you are or not. It's not a feeling many people want to experience, however much they may like the other person," Brodie reasoned with unquestionable logic and the bitter taste of experience.

"I suppose you're right," she conceded, and glanced pointedly at her watch.

Brodie took the hint. "Am I keeping you from an appointment?"

"I've reached the end of my lunch hour. I have to be back to work in a few minutes." Actually she had plenty of time to spare, but common sense demanded she spend no more time in
his company.

"You're a working girl, then, not a lady of leisure." He seemed mildly surprised by the discovery, as if he had expected her parents' wealth was a reason for her to be idle.

"Living the life of leisure can be boring. Perhaps you haven't reached the point where you've discovered that yet." This time it was she who was faintly acerbic in her response.

Brodie Hayes seemed to find it amusing. His mouth remained in its half-curved line, but there was a sparkle of mocking laughter in his hard eyes. It didn't endear him to Jessica.

"Perhaps I haven't," he agreed.

"It was nice seeing you again." She repeated her earlier exit line with the same result as the last time.

"Have dinner with me this evening," Brodie invited before she could move away. "Your husband is welcome to join us."

"I'm not married," Jessica answered, then realized she had fallen for an old gambit.

"Your boyfriend, then. You do have one?" His skimming look seemed to say any woman as attractive as Jessica had to have a boyfriend or there was something wrong with her.

"Thank you, but I'm afraid I can't accept," she refused as graciously as her clenched jaw would permit, and purposefully adjusted the strap of her shoulder bag.

"Please reconsider." His slow smile was packed with compelling male charm. Jessica was aware of its potency and wavered under its spell. Only it frigid woman could be immune to it, and she was definitely not frigid. "Take pity on a lonely man who's tired of eating his meals by himself."

"If you eat alone, I'm sure it's by choice. There are probably any number of people who would be delighted to join you." She felt a drawing fascination and fought it vigorously as she discounted his appeal.

"My dinner companions generally want to discuss business or money, directly or indirectly." Brodie Hayes didn't deny her allegation. "Yours is the first remotely familiar face I've seen since I returned. I'm a stranger returning home to find no one here to welcome me. I would like to spend an evening with you, reminiscing about old times."

It was difficult to refuse in the face of his persuasions. He was making her feel guilty and heartless. Only the sensation that he was a little too smooth made Jessica persist in her rejection.

"I doubt if I would be able to do much reminiscing, since your 'old times' were not mine. I would be able to supply you with little information about your contemporaries and where, they are and what they're doing today," she argued, hiding her terseness behind a smile.

"My contemporaries were also your sister's and brother's. I'm sure you've heard them speak about their friends." A gust of wind ruffled his midnight-black hair. In a careless gesture, his fingers combed it back into order. "You'd probably be surprised at how much information you've unconsciously gathered."

"Possibly," she conceded that he might be right.

"Shall I pick you up at eight o'clock?" Brodie didn't repeat his invitation, but rephrased it to take her acceptance for granted.

Jessica hesitated, finding herself at a loss to battle him with words. With a sigh, she released the breath she had unconsciously been holding and flashed him a quick smile.

"Eight o'clock will be fine," she agreed, and glanced at her watch. "I have to run. See you tonight…Brodie." Her tongue tripped over his given name.

"Tonight," he agreed with an arrogantly pleased smile.

But Jessica was already moving away, not allowing him another chance to detain her. She hurried down the sidewalk, not looking behind her to see if Brodie Hayes was watching her leave.

There was no sense of triumph in having eluded him, nor in having bested him. She had agreed to the dinner invitation for the simple reason that it was the easy way out. She knew she wouldn't be going with him when she had accepted. Not because she was going elsewhere that evening. The fact was that Brodie Hayes did not know where she lived, and her telephone was not listed in the directory, so there was no chance he could find her. A man like Brodie Hayes would not take kindly to being stood up, but with luck she would never bump into him again.

At the building where she worked, Jessica paused to glance behind her. She scanned the people on the sidewalk and felt silly for thinking that Brodie might have followed her. With an impatient shake of her head, she pushed open the glass door and walked in.

Riding the elevator, Jessica shrugged out of her coat and tried not to let her mind dwell on what she had just done. But it had left a sour aftertaste in her mouth. Her expression was downcast and slightly preoccupied as she entered the outer office area.

Ann Morrow, the receptionist, glanced up and frowned. "I wasn't expecting you for another twenty minutes, Miss Thorne."

"I came back early," she answered abruptly, and immediately tempered her sharpness. "I wanted to look over the Atkins account."

"I took the file into Mr. Dane's office a few minutes ago." The girl lifted her shoulders in mute apology.

"That's all right." Jessica hadn't really been interested in looking over the account, at least not overly so. Now that her uncle, Ralph Dane, was going over the file, there was no point her looking at it. "I'll be in my office if anyone calls for me."

As Jessica turned away, she found herself thinking that Brodie Hayes wouldn't call. He didn't know where she worked, either.

A door opened and a tall, distinguished-looking man came striding out. His dark hair was grayed at the temples, a pair of dark-rimmed glasses were in his hand.

"Ann…" he began, glancing up from the file he held. At the familiar sound of her uncle's voice, Jessica paused instinctively. His peripheral vision caught her presence and his attention immediately shifted to her. "Jessie, you're back already. You're just the person I wanted to see. Come into my of rice."

He didn't wait to see if she was coming as he retraced his path, leaving the door to his private office open for her. Jessica hesitated for only a split second, then tossed her coat over the back of the chair beside the receptionist's desk and followed him. Closing the door, she walked to a leather-covered chair and set her bag on the seat.

"Back early from lunch, aren't you?" he accused in his terse, clipped voice. "Not that I mind. This Atkins account is a shambles." He dropped the file on his desk and pushed back the cuff of his jacket to glance at his watch. "What are you—a glutton for work? Twenty minutes early."

"I had my lunch. There wasn't any shopping I wanted to do, so I came back to the office." Jessica shrugged.

"No shopping, huh?" Ralph Dane grunted. "I'd celebrate the day your Aunt Rebecca ever said that!" Hitching up his trousers, he sat down in the swivel chair behind his desk and opened the file holder. "I've just looked over the Atkins file. The ad campaign is…hokey, for want of a better word. Parts of it are worth saving, but this…"

A red pencil began slashing out tines of copy while Jessica moved closer to the desk, turning at an angle to see what he was eliminating. Her concentration held for two minutes until the words "success" and "hometown boy" made her attention stray. They came too soon after her encounter with Brodie Hayes for her not to apply them to him instead of this old and valued account.

"Are you listening to me, Jessie?" her uncle demanded impatiently.

She winced, both at her inattention and his diminutive use of her name. "Sorry, I was thinking," she admitted.

"Not about this, obviously." He flipped the pencil onto the desk top and leaned back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap. "Out with whatever it is that's on your mind so we can concentrate on this."

"It wasn't anything important."

"Important enough for you not to pay attention. Get it off your chest," he ordered.

Jessica knew her uncle well enough to know he would persist with his questions until she came up with a response. She had never been any good at making up stories, so she settled for the truth, or a portion thereof.

"On my way back to the office, I met a man who lived here several years ago, a hometown boy who's doing quite well now. The comparison with the Atkins campaign clicked in my mind."

"Who is he?"

"Brodie Hayes." Jessica was surprised by how naturally she spoke his name.

"Never heard of him," her uncle grumped. "Anything else?"

"No." Nothing that she was going to tell him.