Somebody's Santa. Annie Jones
said,” she murmured at last, “…the way you thought.”
“Yeah,” he said. “That’s the kicker. When things don’t turn out the way you wished they would.”
She’d said thought.
He’d said wished.
He wondered if she would correct him and in doing so bluntly and unashamedly confirm that they were talking about their own failed plans. If only she would and they could get it out into the open.
Burke was an out-in-the-open kind of man. Always had been—except when the good faith of a woman who didn’t have sense enough to give up on him was at stake. That’s how he’d gotten into this predicament in the first place.
He’d wanted to be upfront with Dora from the get-go, but the underhanded way in which his brothers had cut him from his spot as top dog of the family business left him hurt, humiliated and wanting to tuck his tail between his legs and hide. He knew that about himself. Knew that what he’d done, dumping her by pretending the only thing between them had been a business deal, was wrong. If she would only call him on it maybe they could sort it out and then…then what?
He shook his head. “You see, my mom, she had this plan for her life.”
Dora held her tongue.
He felt he had to forge ahead.
Fill the silence.
State his case for coming here after all this time.
And if he got what was coming to him in the bargain? He’d take it like he took every blow and disappointment he’d suffered in life, without flinching and letting anyone see his pain.
“College, travel, adventure. Mom had the brains, the courage and the means to do it all. Something I know you can relate…” Too soon. One look into her eyes and he could see he had tried to get her to invest in this on a personal level much too soon.
“Yes?”
No, not too soon. He’d read her all wrong.
He’d spent hour upon hour with her. They’d discussed everything from business to barbeque sauce. He’d even sat by her side and mapped out a future that would forever intertwine them, if only on their corporate income tax papers.
The things unsaid had promised more, and he knew it. Their laughter, their shared beliefs, their dedication to their work. Those things made it easy to be around Dora, something he’d never felt with another woman. They also made it easy to let go of her when their business deal fell through.
Fell through. Pretty words for having been kicked out by your own family and finding yourself left with nothing more to offer anyone, least of all a woman like Dora.
No position. No power. No purpose.
Burke knew that Dora needed those things for herself and from anyone involved with her. After the family had put those—position, power, purpose—out of reach for him, a personal relationship with Dora had become impossible for him.
He pressed on with his pitch. “My mother changed her life plans completely so that she could give her all to her family and the new dreams we would create together.”
Dora would never have done the same.
“So your mother made her choice,” she said. “Most women do. We tell ourselves we can have it all, and maybe we can but most of us know we can’t have it all and give our all, all the time. So we all make choices. That is something I can relate to.”
There was an eagerness in Dora’s eyes, an intensity. Did he dare call it hope? Or merely an openness to hope? It was so slim, so faint. He doubted she even knew she was revealing it. It embarrassed him a little and humbled him that he should have this advantage, no, this blessing. That he should get this tiny glimpse into something so personal, the best part of this woman he admired so much.
Not until this moment did he realize that while Dora Hoag might be living the life his mother had never realized, it was not by her own choosing.
That changed everything—save for the fact that he still couldn’t pull off any of this without someone’s help. Dora’s help. But now instead of wheeling and dealing to get it, he knew he had to win her over, make her want to do it as much as he wanted her to do it.
Without giving her any warning, he stood and held his open hand toward her. “Let’s get out of here.”
She looked at his outstretched palm then at the door. “You go first.”
“Stop playing games, Dora.”
“At the risk of sounding repetitive—you first.”
“I don’t play games.” He dropped his hand.
“I know.” She folded her arms again. “And you don’t make a trip to tell someone something face-to-face that could easily be said on the phone or by e-mail.”
He acknowledged that with a dip of his head.
“So just say what you came here to say and then kindly get out,” she said quite unkindly.
“You’re right. I did come to tell you something. And ask you something. But first I have to show you.” He reached into his inside coat pocket.
Her arms loosened slightly. Her shoulders lifted. “If you were any other man, I’d expect you to pull out a small velvet box after a statement like that.”
“Small? Velvet?” His fingers curled shut inside his coat. “Oh!”
She tilted her head and gave him a smile that was light but a bit sad. “I don’t play games, either.”
“I’ll say you don’t.” He shook his head. She’d gotten him. He’d come here thinking he knew what he was walking into and how to maintain control of it and she’d gotten him. To his surprise, he didn’t mind. In fact, he kind of liked it. He liked this feisty side of her. “But you sure do a have an overactive imagination, lady.”
“Overactive? Because I once thought of you as a man of his word?”
Suddenly he liked that feistiness a little less. “Hey, let’s not go there, Dora.”
“Where else would you like to go, Burke? You seem to be up for a lot of travel all of a sudden. Coming here. Wanting me to go someplace with you. Maybe we should add a little trip down memory lane to your itinerary.”
“Memory lane?” He smirked.
“What?” Lines formed in her usually smooth forehead. She pursed her lips and waited for him to say more.
“Just a pretty old-fashioned term, don’t you think? I’d have gone for a play on time travel.” He was trying to lighten the mood.
She wasn’t having any part of it. “I was raised in a pretty old-fashioned home by my great-aunt and uncle. It’s the way they talked, I guess. It’s not so unusual. You knew the meaning.”
The meaning he knew. The tidbit about her upbringing he hadn’t known. Did it make any difference? Probably not to his plan, but it did explain a few things about her outlook on the world and the world’s outlook on her. Nobody got her, not really. Nobody knew her.
Try as he could to stop it, Burke found that she was bringing out the protective nature of his Top Dawg personality again. To keep from caving into that or allowing her to rehash how badly he had handled things between them last summer, he stepped forward. He pulled the business card he had gone to retrieve from the Crumble out of his pocket. He gazed at the off-white rectangle with raised black lettering atop brightly colored shapes for only a moment before he handed it to her.
“What’s that?”
“That’s where I want to take you.”
“To a doctor’s office?”
“A pediatrician’s office.”
“Why?”