Ultimate Cedar Cove Collection. Debbie Macomber
are you doing here?” he demanded, and it was plain she was the last person he wanted to see.
“I—I… Andrew called me, and…”
He frowned, and winced; no wonder, she thought. One side of his face was swollen and badly bruised. His left eye was completely shut and there was a bandage around his left arm.
“What’s the other guy look like?” she asked, hoping a light approach would relax him.
He ignored the question.
“Ian…what’s wrong?”
“I didn’t ask you to come here,” he returned gruffly.
“I know. I came because I wanted to make sure you were all right.” She didn’t mention that she’d risked her job to do so. Her father had said he’d cover for her, but in her rush, she hadn’t spoken to her boss and had left without permission.
“As you can see, I’m just hunky-dory, so you can leave now.”
His words stung. “That’s rude.”
“In case you hadn’t figured it out, I’m not exactly in the mood for company.”
“All right,” she whispered and retreated a step.
“Go on,” he urged. “Get out of here.”
She blinked, unbearably hurt that Ian would speak to her this way. “If that’s how you feel, then—”
“Go,” he shouted, pointing at the door.
Turning on her heel, Cecilia ran out of the room. If he didn’t want her concern or…or her love, that was fine with her.
“Cecilia!” he called after her, but she resolutely ignored him. She hurried to the elevator, pushing the button with more force than necessary. Maybe it was time to see her attorney, after all. She refused to stay married to a man who treated her like this.
Eight
The March rains had arrived, and the last thing Justine Lockhart wanted was to sit in a stuffy room with a bunch of classmates, planning an event she probably wouldn’t even attend. But that was exactly what she’d have to do. As Justine had predicted, she’d been contacted by the reunion committee and asked if she’d be willing to help. In a moment of weakness, she’d agreed.
Unfortunately, Justine had made the mistake of mentioning the reunion to Warren. He’d refused to even consider going with her. After all the times she’d sat through dead boring meetings waiting for him or played hostess to a group of his business colleagues, she’d assumed he’d do this one small thing for her. She’d obviously assumed wrong.
He’d tried to smooth over their spat with a pretty sapphire necklace and an invitation to dinner. In the past, Justine had accepted his jewel-encrusted apologies, and they’d gone on as before. Justine was well acquainted with Warren’s faults; she usually chose to ignore them. He could be entertaining and he tended to indulge her in return for her company. That might sound calculating but it was an arrangement that suited them both. Besides, for all his money, he had few friends. And neither of them was in this relationship for the long haul. Expectations were clear.
The planning meeting was held at the home of Lana Sullivan, who’d married Jay Rothchild. In the ten years since she’d graduated, Justine hadn’t spoken to Lana once.
“Justine!” Lana greeted her enthusiastically, hugging her as though they were long-lost friends. “Come in! Seth’s here and so is Mary.”
Justine glanced into the living room and saw that Mary O’Donnell was several months pregnant. “Good to see you Mary,” Justine said, smiling, then nodded at Seth.
The school’s star athlete hadn’t changed much—physically, at least. He was just as tall and muscular, although he’d filled out and had a more mature look. He remained strikingly blond. She didn’t remember him being this handsome, but her high-school years were pretty much a blur.
“What are you doing these days?” Mary asked.
Justine shrugged. “I’m working at First National.” She’d graduated from college with a degree in history; unfortunately, this hadn’t translated into an employable skill.
“I hear you’re the manager,” Seth said.
“I am.” It surprised her he knew that. He wasn’t a customer.
Ill at ease, Justine claimed a chair across from Mary, tucked her hands under her thighs and made polite conversation with the small group, declining a cup of coffee. She wasn’t sure when the strained atmosphere shifted into comfortable exchange, but it did. Soon she found herself laughing with these people who were little more than familiar strangers.
Once the schedule of events had been decided and committees formed, the meeting was over. Justine left at the same time as Seth.
“Have you eaten?” he asked, to her astonishment. He dangled his car keys as he waited for her reply.
Justine realized this was more than a mere inquiry; it was an invitation. “No, as a matter of fact, I haven’t.” Warren had suggested she phone when she was finished with her meeting—he’d said he might be able to take her out for a drink—but she was in no hurry to do so. “Would you like some company?” she asked.
“Sure.”
As Justine had discovered early in the evening, Seth wasn’t at all the way she remembered him. It hadn’t taken her long to see that her view of him as an empty-headed jock was completely off-base. He had a sharp wit and the most wonderful, hearty laugh. She’d liked his ideas for the reunion, which revealed imagination combined with practicality.
They drove in separate cars to D.D.’s on the Cove, a fashionable seafood restaurant on the pier, close to the marina. The restaurant had opened that summer, and Justine had gone there for lunch but never dinner.
Since it was already past eight, they were seated right away. A prime table, too, by one of the windows overlooking the harbor, where they could see the lights from the Bremerton shipyard blinking across the cove. Justine glanced quickly at the menu and made her choice.
“It’s hard to believe we graduated ten years ago, isn’t it?” she said. “Nobody looks that different. Well, except for Mary…”
“I have mixed feelings about the reunion,” Seth confessed.
“Why?” she asked with some puzzlement.
“If I go at all, I’ll probably end up going alone. It kind of wrecks my image, you know?” He grinned, and Justine couldn’t keep from smiling.
“You certainly had girls buzzing around you while we were in school,” she told him.
“Except the one I really wanted.” His deep blue eyes held hers.
“Who are you kidding? You could’ve dated anyone.”
“Not you,” he said, still watching her.
“Me?” she said in shock. “You wanted to date me?”
This had to be a joke, and not a funny one. She was about to say so when it suddenly occurred to her that he might be serious.
“What do you mean?” she asked in a weak voice.
“I had the biggest crush on you.”
“Not once did you ask me out,” she reminded him.
“Would you have gone with me if I had?”
Justine didn’t know.
“You saw me as a big dunce, and I don’t blame you. Whenever I was around you, I got so flustered I couldn’t speak. Anytime you were in the vicinity, I was in trouble. I couldn’t say or do anything right. Then I’d feel like such an idiot I’d beat myself up about it for weeks afterward.”
“I