Judith Stacy (7 page)

L
eona Albright wanted to see her? Regarding a “highly confidential and deeply personal matter”?

As the carriage swayed, carrying her through the streets of Los Angeles, Jana glanced down at the handwritten note that had been delivered to the house first thing this morning. She wished she could console herself with the notion that she had no idea what Leona Albright intended to tell her today. But, really, she thought she knew.

There was something between Leona and Brandon. Upon first meeting the woman shortly after arriving in Los Angeles as Brandon’s new bride, Jana had sensed it. Yet she didn’t know what it was, exactly.

Initially, she suspected a love affair between the two of them. Though Leona was more than ten years older than Brandon and hardly seemed his type, Jana had considered the possibility. But after seeing them to
gether on several occasions, she came to doubt that anything of so intimate a nature had gone on between them.

Had she been wrong?

Jana slid Leona’s luncheon invitation into her handbag and turned her attention to the passing scenery. It seemed that the woman was ready to confess all at their meeting today. Perhaps Jana would finally learn the truth. She’d be glad to know, finally. Yet her heart ached a little imagining what the “highly confidential and deeply personal matter” might be. She could think that it meant only one thing.

Jana shifted on the seat. Perhaps it would be for the best if Leona confessed an intimacy with Brandon. Certainly it was a just reason to leave him. One even Brandon couldn’t attempt to deny.

Yet if the matter Leona wanted to discuss today proved to be something entirely different, Jana would have no choice but to stay with Brandon for the month, as she had promised. She’d asked him twice now to release her and he’d refused both times. What could she do but stay?

The carriage drew to a stop in front of Blossoms Restaurant, and the doorman assisted Jana to the sidewalk. The maître d’ nodded respectfully when she walked inside.

“Your party will arrive shortly, Mrs. Sayer,” he said. “Please come this way.”

Jana had never been to this restaurant before and was surprised to be recognized. Establishments such as this
catered to the wealthy and powerful, and they made it their business to know their patrons on sight. Yet how could they know her?

Conversation hummed low among the well-dressed diners as Jana followed the maître d’ through the tables to the rear of the restaurant and down a short hallway to a smaller dining room. He seated her at a table set for two, bowed slightly and departed, leaving Jana totally alone in the room. Not one single diner was present, save herself.

But what a lovely place it was, Jana thought. The small octagonal-shaped room featured floor-to-ceiling windows on all but one side. Outside, a private garden tucked into a courtyard bloomed with a profusion of colorful flowers, lush shrubs and vines, and palms. The theme carried indoors with pale green linens, floral china, potted palms and fresh cuttings on every table.

Late-afternoon shadows dimmed the garden reminding Jana of the hour. She hoped Leona wouldn’t keep her waiting. It was after four o’clock already and Jana had to be home before six.

A waiter appeared, poured water in the crystal goblet, then departed with nothing more than a bow and a faint smile. Jana fidgeted, wishing she’d insisted the maître d’ seat her facing the door rather than the garden so she could see Leona’s approach. Would the look on the woman’s face foretell the purpose of today’s surprise luncheon?

Jana told herself once again that she had no reason
to fear this meeting. If Leona told her the worst, Jana should, in fact, be glad to hear it.

Yet Jana could find no joy in that hypothetical situation. And now that the possibility of facing it was upon her…

Jana pressed her lips together, willing Leona Albright into the room.

Instead, a waiter appeared and offered a pleasant smile as he lit the small candle nestled among the table’s floral centerpiece. He moved on to light the other candles in the wall and floor sconces around the room, then disappeared only to be replaced by a musician. With a brief bow to Jana, he stationed himself in a far corner, tucked a violin under his chin and began to play.

If this wasn’t the strangest luncheon, Jana couldn’t imagine what would be. Good gracious, what was Leona Albright thinking? Did she believe this oddly romantic setting would somehow soften the blow of revealing that she and Brandon had been—

A warm rush swept up Jana’s neck, setting her nerves on end just as a hand reached around and lay a solitary rose beside her plate.

Brandon.

She turned to find him standing over her, looking especially dapper in a black suit and maroon necktie.

“What on earth are you—”

He cut her off by taking her hand gently in his. “Please forgive my impertinence at arranging this luncheon. I prevailed upon a mutual friend to lure you here under false pretenses. I’m Brandon Sayer.”

“But Brandon—”

“More than anything, I’d like to get to know you,” he continued. “Would you allow me that honor?”

Jana’s heart fluttered wildly as the meaning of his charade dawned on her. A clandestine meeting, a plea to get to know her. He wanted them to start over.

Brandon placed his palm atop her hand, holding it just a trifle more firmly, and leaned down just a little. He gazed into her eyes. “Please?”

She couldn’t deny him. She didn’t
want
to deny him. Yet she knew she should. Knew it was for the best. But gazing into his eyes while her heart beat wildly, Jana couldn’t bring herself to say the words.

Maybe she could stay. Maybe things would work out. The notion flew through her mind. He might have changed—truly changed. Perhaps they could make things work—even after all that had happened.

Even after what had happened in London.

“Yes, please,” Jana said, surprised to hear how soft her own voice sounded. “Please, sit down.”

Brandon took the chair across the little round table from her, bringing on a flurry of waiters. Napkins unfurled, champagne poured.

“This is a lovely restaurant,” Jana said, glancing around. With the fading sunlight, the flickering candles reflected off the windows giving the room a romantic sparkle. “I’m surprised no one else is here—”

She stopped, and from the look on Brandon’s face, realized what he’d done.

“You secured this entire room,” she said. “Just for us.”

“I wanted your full attention.” The corner of his mouth lifted ever so slightly. “Selfish, yes. But worth it.”

“And you enlisted the aid of Leona Albright in this bit of subterfuge?”

“I did.”

“Likely, you also put off a number of business meetings and a great deal of work to be here.”

Brandon nodded. “Everything else can wait.”

“You went to a lot of trouble.”

“You’re nothing but trouble, Jana,” he told her with a crooked twist to his lips.

She giggled at his honesty. “And you’re sure you want to put up with that?”

The playful smile left his face. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

She fingered the single yellow rose he’d placed beside her plate. “My favorite.”

“You had those in your hands when you walked down the aisle at our wedding,” Brandon said. “Some blue flowers too. They matched the color of your eyes. There were small white flowers also.”

“You remember?” she asked, genuinely pleased.

Brandon gazed across the table at her. “I remember everything.”

The waiter served the soup and Jana expected their conversation to end. Brandon normally used the solitude of mealtime to think. So she was surprised when he spoke.

“What did you do today?” he asked.

He looked a bit uncomfortable asking the question. She could see that he was trying hard to do and say the right things.

Yet she didn’t want to tell him that she’d spent a portion of the day at her aunt’s hotel suite. He still didn’t seem to know that Aunt Maureen was in town and she preferred to keep it that way.

“The usual,” Jana said, sipping her soup. “Answering correspondence. We must be the most requested couple at social functions these days.”

“How about the renovations?” Brandon asked, finishing his soup.

“Coming along nicely,” Jana told him.

They finished supper, then lingered over dessert and coffee. Jana could see it was an effort for him. Brandon wasn’t one to sit with no real purpose, to make idle conversation. Yet he did just that.

When they returned home, Brandon walked upstairs with her and paused outside the door to her bedchamber. Jana’s skin heated, remembering the last time they’d stood here together, how he’d taken her in his arms, kissed her.

“Good night,” Brandon said softly.

Would he do the same now? Tonight, after their romantic supper? It seemed the most natural thing in the world.

“Thank you for such a lovely evening,” Jana said and felt herself sway toward him ever so slightly.

He eased closer, dropping his gaze to her lips for an instant. “I’m glad you liked it.”

“I did,” she said quickly.

A long moment passed with the two of them facing each other in the hallway of the silent house. Jana felt the heat of Brandon’s body, saw the way his lower lip twitched, signs that she remembered.

He was about to kiss her. She knew it. Jana’s heart thumped a little harder in her chest.

But instead, Brandon gulped in a breath and backed up a step. “Well…good night.”

A wave of disappointment washed through Jana. “Good night,” she replied.

Brandon turned away. She did the same.

“Jana?”

She whirled toward him again. “Yes?”

“If you’d care to join me for breakfast in the morning, I’d be pleased to have your company.”

His words spoke of tomorrow, but his thoughts—so obvious from his expression—remained on tonight, Jana realized. But was she any better? Good gracious, she wanted nothing more than to divorce this man, yet here she stood hoping he’d kiss her.

She consoled herself with the thought that their lovemaking had never been a problem between them.

“I’d like that,” Jana said.

Brandon nodded, then lingered when he could have headed off to his own bedchamber.

“Well, good night,” he said. “Again.”

“Good night.”

They watched each other, then finally Brandon turned and walked down the hallway. Jana enjoyed one last look at him, then went into her own room.

Her gaze went immediately to the bed, Brandon still fully in her thoughts. The nights they’d spent here together, the mornings…

Jana gave herself a mental shake and headed for her dressing room. Enough of those sorts of thoughts. She had bigger problems and commitments than those under this roof. Yet she was obligated to stay.

Jana drew in a breath. She’d have to steel her feelings against Brandon. Somehow.

“Good morning,” Jana said as she walked into the breakfast room.

Brandon, already seated at the table, looked up and came to his feet. He didn’t smile, though, and Jana wondered at the wisdom of her decision to join him for breakfast, even after he’d invited her. This early hour—anywhere but in the bedroom—had always been a difficult time for them.

“Morning,” he said, and pulled out the chair to his right.

He seated her, then resumed his own spot and turned his attention to the two morning newspapers spread out before him. Jana waited while the servant poured coffee and took away Brandon’s empty plate, then sipped and listened to the ticking of the hallway clock, her most reliable companion in the house.

Just when she was about to excuse herself and go upstairs again, Brandon jumped, giving her a start, and turned to her quickly.

“Sorry,” he said, as if just remembering he was supposed to be paying attention to her.

“How is the
Messenger
this morning?” she asked, gesturing toward the newspaper.

“Dull as ever,” Brandon said, pushing it away. “And costing me a fortune.”

“Oliver Fisk seems like such a nice man,” Jana said.

“‘Nice’ doesn’t make money,” Brandon said, sipping his coffee.

“What are your plans for the day?” Jana asked.

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Brandon said, lifting the coffee cup to his lips again. He paused, as if reminding himself that a more detailed response was called for, then lowered it to the saucer. “I’m having a meeting this morning with several business owners from Pasadena. They’re looking for office space here in the city.”

“Is this about your Jennings project?”

“Yes. Word of it has spread. The building is filling up quickly,” Brandon said.

“Do you think that’s wise?” Jana asked. “Committing rental space in the building when the newspaper is still there?”

“The
Messenger
is a lost cause,” Brandon said.

“But if Oliver somehow manages to revive it, won’t that put you in a difficult position?”

“
If
it should happen, yes.” He shook his head. “But it won’t.”

Jana just looked at him, realizing this was the most information about his workday he’d shared with her—ever. For a moment, she didn’t know what to say, how to act.

“What?” Brandon looked uncomfortable, reacting, no doubt, to the odd look on her face.

“Nothing,” Jana said.

“No, tell me. Did I say something wrong?” Brandon asked. “I thought you might really want to know what I was doing. If you don’t, if it’s not interesting, I—”

“It’s fine,” she told him. “I’m interested. I really am. It’s just that you don’t usually share that sort of information with me. It’s just different, that’s all.”

He leaned toward her a bit. “Good different?”

She smiled. “Yes. Good different.”

“Well, all right then.” Brandon sighed heavily. “And what are you up to this morning?”

“I’ll be here,” Jana said. “There’re a few things I want to discuss with the construction foreman.”

Brandon’s brows drew together. “You’re not knocking out another wall, are you?”

She grinned. “Not today.”

“I’d better go.” Brandon got to his feet and assisted Jana from her chair.