Читать книгу Legally Mine - Kate Hoffmann - Страница 11

“WHY CAN’T YOU BE MORE LIKE Ronald? He’s the son I never had.”

Will McCaffrey stifled a groan and clutched the back of one of the guest chairs in his father’s office. “You had a son, Dad. You still do. Me.”

“Lately, Ronald’s more like a son than you are.”

Hell, he hated this conversation. He’d been through this with his father at least once a month for the past two years, ever since Jim McCaffrey had decided to retire. Choosing a successor had come down to two choices—Jim’s dull but dependable son-in-law, Ronald. Or Will, who hadn’t quite lived up to paternal expectations.

“Tell me,” Will countered, “was Ronald the son who doubled this company’s net worth in just four years? Did Ronald go out and get us the Winterbrook project or the West Washington development deal?” He paused for effect. “No, wait. That was your other son. The son who has worked his ass off for this company. Now what was his name?”

Will served as corporate counsel and executive vice president for McCaffrey Commercial Properties, but he’d worked his way up from the bottom, starting when he was just a junior in high school and ending in a permanent position when he graduated from law school. He had the brains and the drive to continue what his father had begun thirty years ago, to make it even better. What he didn’t have was a wife—which for some bizarre reason, known only to his father, would instantly turn him into CEO material.

Just the thought of marriage made him nervous. He understood the concept and its allure, and he even believed in happily-ever-afters. He’d seen his parents’ marriage and knew it was possible. But he also knew that happiness could be snatched away in just a blink of an eye.

“Ronald is not prepared to run this company,” Will said in an even tone, picking up an old copy of Business Week and flipping through it casually. “He’s too conservative, he has to triple-think every decision and then half the time he makes the wrong choice. Have you ever watched him order lunch? ‘I’ll have the salmon—no wait, how is the strip steak? Well, maybe I should have a salad. Has anyone tried the veal chop?’ It’s a wonder the guy hasn’t starved by now.”

“No wonder at all,” his father countered. “He has a wife at home who makes him dinner every night.”

“Why does a wife, three children and a house in the suburbs qualify him to run this company?”

“He’s settled. He’s made choices in his life and he has responsibilities to look out for, namely your sister and my grandchildren. I don’t have to worry that he’ll run off to Fiji with the next stewardess he meets.”

“They’re called flight attendants. And who says I can’t take a vacation every now and then?”

His father scowled. “You called on Tuesday afternoon to say you wouldn’t be in to work on Monday morning.”

“I got confused with time change. That whole thing with the International Date Line is very complicated.”

His father sighed. “I know you have your wild oats to sow, Will. But life comes down to choices. You can’t stay a bachelor the rest of your life.”

Will felt his frustration grow. Why did it always have to come down to this same old argument? It wasn’t as if he was avoiding marriage, he just hadn’t found the right woman—the perfect woman. Hell, he’d never driven the same car for more than a year. How was he supposed to choose a mate for the next fifty years? “Not everyone is going to have what you and Mom had,” he muttered.

Just the thought of his mother brought a twinge of grief, even after all these years. Laura Sellars McCaffrey had died when Will was just twelve and his sister ten, and since then it had been just the three of them. After her death, Jim McCaffrey had thrown himself into work, turning his small real-estate brokerage into one of Chicago’s most successful commercial developers. In the process, he’d left his two children to grieve on their own, and to raise themselves.

Melanie had retreated behind the responsibilities of running the household, learning to be the perfect substitute for her mother. When she was barely twenty, she’d married her high-school sweetheart, Ronald Williams. He’d come to work for the family business, she’d joined the garden club and, together, they’d produced three perfect children.

Will had had the opposite reaction to his mother’s death. He could barely stand to stay in the house, memories of her infused every room. He’d found comfort in friends, first his buddies from school and then, as he’d grown older, pretty girls. Somewhere along the line, the girls had become women, always bright and very beautiful. And though he’d always assumed he’d find a wife someday, the women he dated always seemed to fall short.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked. “Marry someone I don’t love just so I can say I’m married?”

“You’ve introduced me to six or seven of your girlfriends, any one of whom would have made you a decent wife. You need to grow up and decide what’s important to you—your future or the next beautiful woman to cross your path.” Jim McCaffrey crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m going to retire in April. Either you get your personal life in order or you’ll be taking orders from Ronald.”

Will’s jaw clenched and he decided to make his escape while he could, before his father brought up more reasons why Will would never occupy the corner office and he was goaded into a knock-down-drag-out fight. Maybe he ought to just forget about a future with the family business. He was a good lawyer. Hell, he’d even taught a few seminars at his alma mater. And he couldn’t count the number of law school buddies who called each week asking his opinion on some matter of real-estate law. He’d had job offers from most of the major firms in the city over the past few years, why not just start fresh?

He retreated to his office, closing the door behind him. When he’d settled into his well-worn chair, Will groaned softly. How could he consider leaving? This business was in his blood—the excitement of putting a deal together, of anticipating the problems and smoothing them over, of watching an empty piece of land become a vital part of the city. He’d helped build the business. By rights, it should be his someday.

Will snatched up the messages his secretary had placed on his desk, but his mind was still occupied with his father’s demands. Love and marriage had been so easy for his sister. She’d known exactly who she wanted to spend the rest of her life with by the time she was twenty. He was thirty years old and he wasn’t any closer to finding Miss Right.

The way his father talked, it all sounded so simple. Find a woman, fall in love, get married and live happily-ever-after. But love had never come easily to Will. Even after all these years, he could still remember the way his mother had looked at his father, as if he could do no wrong. The gentle teasing way his father had made his mother laugh. The secret whispers and stolen kisses when they’d both thought the children weren’t looking. That was love—and Will had never once experienced even a small measure of that kind of devotion.

A knock sounded on the office door and Will glanced up to see his secretary, Mrs. Arnstein, walk inside. After he had dated and broken up with three separate secretaries, his father had decided to choose a secretary for him, a woman who would defy temptation. And Mrs. Arnstein was just that. A former Army drill sergeant, the woman was coldly efficient and painstakingly proper. She also outweighed Will by a good twenty or thirty pounds.

“I have your mail,” she said. “The contracts came for the Bucktown condo project. And the estimates came in for the DePaul renovation.” She held up a glossy magazine. “And your Northwestern alumni magazine came. You’re listed in the class notes this month.”

Will took the offered magazine. “How did they find out about me?”

“They sent a questionnaire a few months ago. You told me to fill it out for you. You didn’t have time.”

The alumni notes took up the last six or seven pages of the magazine. Will scanned the columns for his name, then realized they were listed by year of graduation. But as he flipped back to the previous page, a familiar name caught his eye.

“Did you find it?” Mrs. Arnstein asked.

“No.” He quickly closed the magazine. “I’ll look for it later. I have work to do.”

The moment his secretary closed the door behind her, he snatched the magazine up and returned to the page. “Jane Singleton, B.S. Botany, 2000,” he read out loud. “Jane runs her own landscape business, Windy City Gardens, and has designed and installed a wide variety of residential and commercial gardens in the Chicago area.”

He hadn’t thought about Janie Singleton for—God, how long had it been? Five, maybe six years? “Now she would have made a perfect wife,” he murmured. “She was sweet and attentive and—” He paused, memories flooding his brain. Will slowly pushed out of his chair and crossed his office to the bookshelves that lined one wall, scanning the volumes until his found his contracts text from law school. Holding his breath, he opened the front cover.

It was right where he’d put it years ago. He’d come across it when he’d unpacked his books after law school and had almost tossed it out. But then he’d tucked it inside the cover where it had stayed until this moment, just a silly memory of a night long ago.

Will unfolded the paper and slowly read it, surprised that he’d managed to write a pretty decent contract with such limited practical experience. The terms were clear and he’d covered all contingencies. Hell, if the contract was challenged in court, it might just hold up. An idea flashed in his brain and he pushed it aside. “No, I can’t.”

He dropped the contract onto his desk and turned to his computer to get back to work. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he might have an easy solution to all his problems. Janie Singleton. She was exactly the kind of woman his father would love. And if his father saw that Will was dating an “appropriate” woman, then perhaps he’d soften his stance, maybe delay his decision until Will did find a wife.

He picked up the phone and dialed his secretary’s extension. “Mrs. Arnstein, I need a phone number and address for Windy City Gardens. It’s a landscape contractor here in Chicago. And could you see if you can find a home phone number for a Jane Singleton? She probably lives in the city.”

He sat on the edge of his desk, rereading the blurb in the magazine. A landscape contractor, that’s what she’d become. She’d always loved plants, so it seemed like a natural fit. And knowing her drive and determination, no doubt the business was a success.

He could only speculate on her personal life. The newsletter listed her maiden name, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t stumbled across the man of her dreams in the past six years. After all, Jane was smart and pretty and she’d make any man a great wife.

He picked up the paper and let his gaze skim over the words of the contract. Though it was written well, any judge with half a brain would toss it out in court. Still, it was a place to start, an excuse to call Jane and catch up on old times. If he was lucky, he could rekindle his relationship with her and just see where it went.

The soft ring of his phone interrupted his thoughts. “Mr. McCaffrey, I have an address for Windy City Gardens. It’s 1489 North Damen in Wicker Park.” Will scribbled down the address and the phone number as his secretary read them. “I couldn’t find a home phone. There were seven J. Singletons but no Janes.”

“Fine.”

Will ripped the address from the legal pad, stuffed it into his pocket and grabbed his keys. As he walked out, he stopped at Mrs. Arnstein’s desk. “Cancel my appointments for this afternoon.”

“You’re not going to Fiji again, are you?” she asked, arching her eyebrow.

He smirked. “No. Just over to Wicker Park. If there’s an emergency, you can get me on my cell phone.”

The midday traffic was light on the drive to the Wicker Park neighborhood, and fifteen minutes later, Will pulled up across the street from a small office building. A sign in a street-level window indicated he was at the right place. Even so, he couldn’t seem to get out of the car.

“This is crazy,” he murmured. “She could be married or involved. I can’t just show up and expect her to be thrilled to see me.” He reached down to put the car into gear, then froze as he saw a figure step out the front door of the building. Will recognized her immediately, her dark hair and delicate frame, the profile that defined the word “cute.” She stood on the sidewalk and talked with a slender blonde who seemed vaguely familiar. A few moments later, they walked in different directions, Jane crossing the street and heading toward his car.

Without thinking, he pushed the door open and stepped out. “Jane?” She stopped and glanced around, her gaze finally coming to rest on him. Will leaned over the top of the car door. “Jane Singleton?”

“Will?” A smile broke across her face and he felt his heart warm. She was happy to see him. “My gosh, Will McCaffrey, you’re the last person I expected to run into today.”

“I thought it was you,” he said, trying to feign total surprise. Will stared at her. It was the same Jane, but she was different. Features that had once been a bit plain had changed into something quite striking, not cute at all, but beautiful. She’d been a nineteen-year-old girl when he’d last seen her. Now, she was definitely a woman.

“What are you doing here?” Jane asked.

He slammed the car door and circled the hood to stand in front of her. “I…I was just heading…up the street, to a restaurant.” Will reached out and before he realized what he was doing, he’d grabbed her hand. He hadn’t meant to touch her, but now that he had, he realized how much he’d missed her.

For two years, Janie had been a constant in his life, a friend who’d been there whenever he’d needed her. A sliver of guilt shot through him. And he’d never taken the time to thank her, or even to return the favors she’d so eagerly done for him. He stared down at her hand and slowly rubbed his thumb along her wrist. “It’s really good to see you, Janie.”

She shifted nervously and tugged her hand away. “What restaurant?”

“What? Oh, I don’t know the name,” he said. “I just know it’s on this block.” He smiled. “You look great. It’s been a long time. What have you been up to?”

“A long time,” she repeated. “Yes, it has. Six years almost. I think the last time I saw you was the day you graduated from law school. We were going to keep in touch but then…well, you know how it goes. I got so busy and…”

“I’m sorry we didn’t,” Will said, the sentiment sincere.

“Me, too.”

As he stood in front of her, he fought the urge to touch her again, to drag her into his arms and reassure himself that it was really Jane. Memories of her flooded his mind, memories that he hadn’t even recalled storing away. The long, thick lashes that ringed her dark eyes. The perfect shape of her mouth, like a tiny Cupid’s bow. And the scent of her, like fresh air and spring flowers. “You know, I don’t have to be at the restaurant for a half hour. Maybe you and I could have a cup of coffee?”

She stepped back, as if the invitation caught her by surprise. “I—I can’t,” Jane said. “I—I’m late for an appointment. But it was really nice seeing you, Will.”

“Well, then dinner,” Will insisted. “Whenever you like. How about this weekend? There’s this terrific new Asian restaurant downtown. You like Asian food, don’t you?”

“This weekend won’t work,” Jane said. “Listen, it was great seeing you again.”

“Lunch?” Will asked. “You must eat lunch.”

“I never have time.” She gave him a little wave and rushed off down the sidewalk, looking back just once.

Will stood at the car, stunned at how quickly it was over. He watched until she turned a corner. “Well, that was just great,” he muttered. “If I can’t talk her into a cup of coffee, how am I going to convince her to date me?” A soft curse slipped from his lips, but then he remembered the contract. He’d just try again—and again, if he had to. And if Jane Singleton continued to resist his charms and refuse his invitations, he’d just have to use the only weapon he had—the law.

“MAYBE WE COULD ASK FOR an extension on the rent.”

Jane Singleton pressed her fingers to her temples and stared at the spreadsheet program on her computer, knowing that the suggestion wouldn’t make any difference. The columns of numbers blurred in front of her eyes and she caught herself daydreaming again, her mind wandering back to her encounter with Will McCaffrey last week.

He’d looked so good, the same, but different, more polished and sophisticated. When she’d first seen him standing next to his car, Jane had been certain he was a figment of her imagination. But he had been real, and after all these years, he still had the capacity to send her pulse into overdrive and turn her brain into mush.

Overwhelmed and exasperated by her reaction, she’d made a quick escape. Though she’d once harbored a secret crush on Will McCaffrey, she’d finally managed to put her fantasies aside. She was a grown woman now, not some silly schoolgirl.

Still, Will wasn’t making it easy. He’d called three times since their chance meeting to ask her out and over and over again, she’d come up with a litany of feeble excuses. She’d been tempted, but Jane knew she could never trust herself around him—he could make her fall in love all over again with just a simple smile.

“Jane!”

She jerked up and placed her palms on her desk. “What? I was listening. The numbers just don’t add up. Right. I can see that. We’re not going to have enough to keep the office.”

Lisa Harper shook her head. “All right. What’s wrong? You’ve been distracted all morning. I know we’re under a lot of pressure here, but you’re always so focused at times like these. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Lisa had been her friend since freshman year in college and her business partner since they’d founded Windy City Gardens after they’d graduated. But Lisa had spent too many evenings listening to Jane babble about Will McCaffrey to have him reappear in their conversations again. “It’s nothing,” Jane murmured.

“Tell me.”

“You won’t like it,” Jane warned her.

“You’re my best friend. You’re supposed to tell me every little detail about your life. It’s part of the deal. We talk about highly personal matters, you insist that I look skinny in everything I wear, you encourage me to eat more chocolate because it’s good for my skin, and you—”

“If I tell you, you have to promise this isn’t going to become a thing.”

“A thing?”

“Yeah. Whenever we discuss my personal life and you have an opinion, you want to talk about it over and over and analyze it. And then, once you’ve decided what I should do, you won’t let up until I do it. If I tell you this, you have to promise to just drop it, all right?”

“Promise,” Lisa said, drawing a cross over her heart.

“I saw Will McCaffrey last week.”

Lisa’s expression turned from genuine interest to outright disbelief. “Oh, no. Not again. You haven’t mentioned his name for nearly two years. We are not bringing him back into conversation. The man has ruined you for all men.”

“How is that?”

“Because you haven’t met one man in the past six years that you haven’t compared to Will McCaffrey. You’d think the guy was some kind of god. He’s just a jerk who never appreciated you while he was around.”

“He was right across the street. He was getting out of his car and I was on my way to the Armstrong appointment and there he was, just standing there.”

Lisa covered her ears. “La, la, la, la, la. I’m not listening. I can’t hear you.”

Jane reached out and pulled Lisa’s hands from her ears. “All right. I won’t talk about him. Let’s get back to business.” She drew a deep breath. “It’s November. Even if we bring in ten new contracts for the spring, we’re not going to get paid until at least April. We knew the risks when we decided to go into the landscaping business in Chicago. Gardens don’t grow in the winter.”

“So what did he say?” Lisa asked.

“I think our only option is to diversify. We’ll do Christmas decorations. Put up outdoor lights, decorate trees. We can call some of our competitors, see if they’re too busy. They could subcontract some of their jobs to us.”

“Is he still as handsome as he always was?” Lisa wriggled in her chair. “He always was a hottie. And he knew it, too. I guess it’s too much to hope that he’s gained fifty pounds and has developed a bad case of acne.”

“We cut costs as much as we can,” Jane continued, sending Lisa a quelling glare. “We get rid of the office and transfer the phone. We’ll have to keep the garage for equipment storage. And we call all our past and present clients and offer up our services as Christmas decorators. And then we find a place that will give us a cut rate on twinkle lights.” A tiny smile was all that Jane could muster. There was one good thing about being an eternal optimist. Even in the face of impending disaster, she could keep her wits about her. But it wasn’t easy when things looked this bad. “Even with the Christmas jobs, I’m still not going to be able to make my rent. I’m two months behind and I have less than one hundred dollars in my checking account.”

“Can we please talk about Will?” Lisa pleaded.

Jane eyed her business partner. “I thought you didn’t want to hear about him.”

“All right. I admit. I’m curious and we might as well get it out of the way so we can get down to business.”

It didn’t take much encouragement for Jane to spill the beans. She’d been thinking about him nonstop for nearly six days and she felt as if she were about to burst into flames unless she put her thoughts into words. “He looked different. Handsome and sexy. And respectable. He was wearing a suit that made his shoulders look so broad, and his hair was shorter. But he’s still just as confident and charming as ever.”

“What did he say?”

“I really can’t remember. The moment he touched me I just—” Jane fluttered her fingers around her face. “I got all flustered. He asked me out, first to coffee, then to dinner and then to lunch. You would have been proud of me. I said no and then I got out of there before I starting drooling all over him.”

“You turned him down.”

“Yes. And not just then. He’s called me three times this past week to ask me out again. But I’m strong. I’ve decided going out with him would be a big mistake and I’m determined never to see him again. It was just a chance meeting and it’s over.”

“So he still did it to you,” Lisa muttered. “He still made your heart race and your palms sweat?”

“No,” Jane cried. “Well, maybe, a little. But I’m a different person now. I’m not that silly girl who filled up journal after journal with her fantasies about him. I’m not that girl who wasted sleep dreaming about him. Not anymore,” she lied. Although there had been more than a few very vivid dreams over the past nights, dreams that had featured a tall, dark man who looked a lot like Will. “Besides, I have a boyfriend.”

“You mean David?”

“Yes. Last month we had two dates. He took me to that play and we went to see a movie together. And we had dinner afterward. He’s sweet and polite and handsome. The kind of man I can trust. The kind of man who won’t break my heart.”

David Martin was an architect who had first contacted Windy City Gardens to do the landscaping for a home he’d designed. They’d worked with him on six other projects and he and Jane had formed a friendship. Though David seemed happy with the occasional date, Jane had always hoped that their relationship would progress to something a bit more intimate than a chaste peck on the cheek at the end of the evening.

“I still think he’s gay,” Lisa said, her voice tinged with suspicion.

“He is not! He’s just well-dressed and well-groomed. Just because he pays particular attention to his appearance doesn’t make him gay.”

“Don’t you remember what brought you together? Your mutual love of Celine Dion and Audrey Hepburn.”

“We share common interests. He’s a sweet, sensitive, understanding man—unlike Will McCaffrey who wouldn’t think of sitting through an Audrey Hepburn double feature.”

“Back to Will McCaffrey again,” Lisa murmured.

“If I had a choice between David Martin and Will McCaffrey, I’d choose David every day of the week and twice on Sundays.”

The bell on the front door rang and they both turned to watch a messenger walk inside. “Here we go,” Lisa said, deftly changing the subject. “This nice man is bringing us new business, I can feel it. Or maybe he has an envelope filled with cash.”

“Are you Jane Singleton?” the messenger asked.

Lisa pointed to Jane. “That’s her.”

“I’m supposed to deliver this to you personally and then make sure you read it.”

Jane took the envelope, noting the stamp on the front. “Personal and Confidential,” she read.

“Who’s it from?”

“There’s no return address.” She tore into the envelope and pulled out a photocopy of a handwritten document. As she began to read, she slowly recognized the handwriting. And when her gaze dropped to the bottom of the page and found her own signature, Jane gasped. “Oh, my God.”

“What is it?”

Jane handed Lisa the contract and read the cover letter. “In the matter of the contract between William A. McCaffrey and Jane Singleton, we must discuss the satisfaction of terms as soon as possible. I’ve scheduled a meeting at my office for tomorrow at 10:00 a.m. Sincerely, William McCaffrey, Attorney at Law.”

“We’re doing Will McCaffrey’s garden? Gee, Jane, I’m impressed. You managed to pitch him a project while avoiding him at the same time?”

“Read the contract. This doesn’t have anything to do with a garden. This is about…marriage.”

Lisa’s eyes went wide. “Marriage? Like in ‘husband and wife, till death do us part’?” She quickly scanned the contract, then glanced up at Jane, a stunned expression on her face.

“It was a joke,” Jane said. “He was depressed and I was…vulnerable and he suggested if neither of us was married by the time he was thirty, then we’d…oh, God. I’d forgotten all about this. How could I forget about this?”

“Do you have any return message?” the messenger asked impatiently.

“No,” Jane said, forgetting he was still standing there. “Wait, yes.” She stepped up to the young man and poked a finger into his chest. “You can tell Will McCaffrey that he has a lot of nerve digging up this silly contract. I’m not going to marry him. I’m not going to date him.” She gave the guy another poke. “And you can tell him if he thinks I’m still the same love-starved, weak-willed, stupid little girl who kissed him that—” Jane bit her bottom lip. “Never mind. I’ll tell him myself.”

The messenger nodded, then hurried out of the office, clearly unnerved by her outburst.

“When did you kiss Will McCaffrey?”

“Valentine’s Day, February 14, 1998. Six years ago. He was drunk. And I was completely out of my mind.” She grabbed the contract from Lisa. “This can’t be legal. Look at it. It’s handwritten. And this doesn’t even look like my signature.”

“Is that your signature?” Lisa asked.

“Yes.”

“Then I think it might be legal.”

Jane felt a warm flush creep up her cheeks and her stomach churned with nerves. “I guess I’m going to have to get a lawyer.”

“Either that or marry Will McCaffrey,” Lisa chirped.

JANE SMOOTHED HER HANDS over the front of her skirt, working out a wrinkle that had developed on the ride downtown. She’d spent most of the morning trying to decide what to wear to her meeting with Will. She’d begun with the sexy choices, anxious to prove that she wasn’t the same clumsy girl that he’d once known, that she’d grown into a confident, attractive woman who didn’t need a contract to find a husband.

But she’d discarded those outfits for more conservative choices, a tailored blazer and pants with a silk blouse and elegant jewelry, something to counter his power suit. But that choice hid every trace of femininity, so she traded the pants for a pencil-slim skirt and heels, a wardrobe choice that she rarely employed.

After dressing, she’d fussed with her hair, trying to train the waves into something more subdued. She’d finally given up on the tousled curls and carefully brushed on mascara and lipstick before heading out the door.

Will’s office was located in one of the numerous office towers that dominated downtown Chicago. She’d parked in a nearby ramp and walked the block to the building, taking a few moments to rest in the lobby and compose herself.

This was all too strange, she mused. He couldn’t really expect her to marry him, could he? This was the twenty-first century and America! Women couldn’t be forced into marriage, contract or not. Still, Jane couldn’t help but think that marriage to Will McCaffrey could solve a few of her pressing problems—like where she was going to live after she gave up her apartment or how she was going to save enough money to get her business back on stable ground.

“I don’t love him,” she murmured to herself, letting the words repeat silently in her brain like a mantra. A real marriage, a marriage meant to last, required a level of emotion that Will McCaffrey wasn’t capable of returning.

Jane smoothed her skirt again, then started toward the elevator. “Just remain calm and everything will be just fine.” After all, she didn’t know his motivations in sending her the contract. Maybe this was just his way of convincing her to accept a date.

“That’s it,” she said, the notion taking hold. Will McCaffrey was a handsome, sexy guy, the kind of guy any woman would want to marry. He’d never be forced to rely on an old contract to get a wife. He could walk down Michigan Avenue with a cardboard sign and come up with ten or fifteen candidates within a single city block. So why was he so determined to go out with her?

The elevator opened on a wide hallway. Directly in front of her, glass doors marked the entrance to the offices of McCaffrey Commercial Properties. A pretty receptionist waited behind a circular desk and smiled as Jane walked through the doors. “Good afternoon,” she said. “May I help you?”

“I’m here to see Will McCaffrey,” Jane said.

“You must be Miss Singleton.” She stepped around the desk. “Mr. McCaffrey asked that I show you to his office. He’s in a meeting right now, but he should be through momentarily. Is there anything I can get for you?”

Jane was tempted to ask for a blindfold so she wouldn’t have to stare at Will’s handsome face, or maybe earplugs so she wouldn’t have to listen to his tantalizing voice. Or maybe a bottle of Valium to calm her nerves and quell her racing heart. “No, thank you, I’m fine.”

The receptionist led her down a long hall and opened a door at the end of it. “I’ll let Mr. McCaffrey know you’re here.”

“Thanks,” Jane said.

After the receptionist walked out, Jane wandered around Will’s office, too nervous to sit. His law school diploma was displayed prominently behind his desk and the credenza held a variety of photos, most of them featuring either exotic locales or a golden retriever. What she didn’t find was a photo of a wife, or even a girlfriend. Jane ignored the tiny thrill of satisfaction that raced through her. Whether he was involved in a relationship or completely single shouldn’t make a difference. She picked up a photo of the dog and stared at it.

“His name is Thurgood.”

Jane spun around to find Will standing in the doorway, his shoulder braced against the doorjamb. Her heart stopped for a long moment and she had to gulp down a breath to get it started again. “He’s…cute,” she murmured.

“He’s a big mooch and he sheds all over everything. But I love him. What about you? Do you have any pets?”

Jane shifted uneasily, her feet starting to hurt from the high heels she wore. She wasn’t sure what to say. Were they going to waste time with chitchat, or was he planning to explain himself? Will’s gaze fixed on her face as he waited for her answer.

With a silent curse, Jane fumbled through her purse and pulled out the copy of the contract. She unfolded it and held it out to him. “You sent this to me.”

“Yes, I did,” Will said, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.

“Why?”

“I thought I made that clear in the letter,” he replied.

“You can’t be serious.” Jane glanced down at contract. “This was just a whim fueled by a fair bit of champagne and whiskey.” He’d been drunk and feeling sorry for himself and she’d been caught up in a fantasy that the subject of her silly crush might actually show up in six years, contract in hand.

And now he had. She looked up to see Will sweep a bouquet of roses out from behind his back. “These are for you,” he said, grinning, the dimple appearing on his cheek. “English roses. Your favorite, right?”

A shiver skittered down her spine and her indignation wavered. All he’d ever had to do was smile at her and she’d agree to anything from doing his laundry to typing his term papers to helping him pick out gifts for the endless string of girls in his life. Will had always been too charming for his own good—and hers.

But he’d always been a man so completely unattainable that he’d taken on mythic proportions in her mind—the classic profile, a body chiseled by the gods, hands so strong yet sensitive they promised to drive her wild—Jane groaned inwardly. Just a few minutes in his presence and her fantasies were back full force. “It’s going to take a lot more than roses and this ridiculous contract to make me marry you.”

He took a step toward her, his grin widening. “Then tell me what you want, Janie.”

She risked another look at him. Features that had once been almost boyish had taken on a harder edge. He seemed powerful, determined. If he was really bent on marriage, then she was hip-deep in trouble—both legal and emotional. Because when Will McCaffrey wanted something, he usually found a way to get it. She cursed silently at her racing pulse and the flush that warmed her cheeks. “Le-let’s suppose for a moment this contract is legal, which I don’t think it is. You were drunk and I was…under the influence…” She drew a shaky breath. “Why would you want to marry me anyway? We haven’t talked since that day you graduated from law school.”

He slowly crossed the room and stood in front of her. The scent of the roses made her head swim and she held her breath, wondering just how much closer he would come, praying he wouldn’t touch her.

There had been a time when she’d remembered every single time he’d grabbed her hand or brushed his shoulder against hers. She’d carried around a catalog of such events in her head for years and had taken pains to forget them all. Will McCaffrey was no longer the subject of a silly crush or her rampant fantasies. He was a flesh and blood man, a man who still had the capacity to trample her heart and shred her soul.

“Maybe not,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about you.”

“That doesn’t count,” Jane said. In truth, she’d thought about him hundreds, maybe even thousands of times—not in the past six years but just in the past week since she’d seen him on the street. Her attention flitted from his startling blue eyes ringed with thick dark lashes to the tiny dimple in his left cheek, once so familiar. There was still so much of the college boy left in him even though the neatly groomed hair and finely pressed suit made him the picture of respectability.

“Come on, Janie. We were friends once, why can’t we be again? We were good together.”

“Did you suffer a head injury recently?” she demanded. “Have you spent time in a psychiatric hospital? Or are you just seriously delusional? We were never together. You were together with half the girls on campus, but never with me.”

“You’re the only girl—I mean, woman—that I’ve ever had a friendship with. And I’m beginning to realize how rare that really is.”

He reached out and smoothed his palm along the length of her arm. She’d watched him charm so many women, studied his techniques and imagined herself on the receiving end of his attentions. Well, she wasn’t going to fall for his tricks! “Let’s just be honest here.”

“Great,” Will said. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Let’s just lay it all out on the table. I’m all for honesty.”

“For some reason, you suddenly feel the need to marry me. Maybe you’re in the midst of some early midlife crisis. Or maybe you’ve run through all the single women in the Chicago metro area. Or maybe all your buddies have settled down and you don’t have anyone to party with. But rather than dating a woman and going the traditional route, you dug up this contract and wrote me a letter. I suppose you thought I’d jump at the offer. After all, a girl like me would be a fool to turn down an offer of marriage from a guy like you.”

He opened his mouth to speak, a frown of confusion furrowing his brow. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m not going to marry you! We don’t even know each other.” She paused. “Anymore. And I don’t remember signing this contract.” She crumpled it up and shoved it at his chest.

It was a lie. She remembered every moment of that night. She’d been the one to insist they have a witness sign, as well, she’d been the one who’d actually wanted the document to be legal, dreamed that someday he might come back and try to enforce it.

Will drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You’ve changed, Janie. You used to be so…”

“Weak, pathetic, spineless? I’m not that same silly girl who used to hang on your every word, who used to bake you cookies and mend your shirts.”

“That’s not what I was going to say.” He reached out and hesitantly touched her cheek, drawing his thumb over her lower lip. “You’re not a girl at all, Janie. You’re a woman. A very beautiful, passionate, stubborn woman.”

Jane closed her eyes, losing herself for a moment in the warmth of his hand. Oh, God. This was it. This was the start to one of her top five fantasies! In a few moments, he’d sweep her into his arms and kiss her, ravaging her mouth with his lips. And if by some bizarre shift in the cosmos, her fantasy became reality, then she might as well start shopping for a white dress and a bridal bouquet and those little candy-coated almonds tied up in tulle that always sat on the dinner tables at weddings.

There was no way she was going to avoid falling in love with Will McCaffrey all over again…and right now, with her heart slamming in her chest and her pulse racing, she wasn’t even sure she’d ever fallen out of love with him in the first place.

She swallowed hard. “What do you want from me?” she asked, her voice wavering.

“I just want you to forget the past. I want you to go out to dinner with me tonight. I want to share a bottle of champagne and get to know you all over again.”

Jane ground her teeth. Why was he so determined to pull her in again? Couldn’t he sense what this would cost her? She shook her head. “No. I’m not going to date you and I’m not going to marry you!”

“Why not?” he demanded, frustration coloring his tone. “What’s wrong with me? I’m a decent guy. The way you’re acting you’d think I was some psychotic ax murderer with a hump on his back and halitosis.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you. We’re just not…suited.”

Will chuckled softly, shaking his head. “How can you possibly know that?”

“I just do,” Jane replied.

Will shrugged and stepped away from her, the warmth of his touch suddenly going cold. “Then I guess I’ll see you in court.”

Jane closed her eyes and tried to school her temper. “We have to be able to reach some sort of compromise. If you hadn’t run into me on the street the other day, you never would have remembered the contract. And we both would have gone on with our lives.”

“Maybe so,” he said. “But we did meet again and whether that was destiny or providence, I don’t care. It made me realize how much I missed you. And how much I want you in my life again.”

Jane forced herself not to dwell on his words. They were all part of his plan to charm her, to suck all the common sense out of her brain so he could have his way with her. “And marriage is the answer? What if I agree to a date? Doesn’t that seem a more logical first step?”

“I asked and you said no. Besides, now that I think about it, I’m sick and tired of dating. I’m ready to move on with my life,” Will said. He sat down at his desk and leaned back in his chair, linking his fingers behind his head and watching her with a bland smile.

If he wanted a fight, then she was fully prepared to give him one! Jane braced her hands on his desk and leaned over it, meeting his gaze with a glare of her own. “I’m not going to marry you. I’m not going to date you. In fact, I never want to see you again. If you think you can enforce your silly contract, then try it. I dare you.”

Her heart pounding, Jane strode to the door and yanked it open. She briefly considered turning around and throwing a few more threats his way, but in the end, she made a quick escape. One more look at Will McCaffrey might be just what it took to push her over the edge, into a strange fantasy world where she really could marry him and live happily-ever-after.

When she reached the elevator, she leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes. Images of Will swam in her head and Jane groaned softly. Fighting him seemed to be the only option. Or was it?

“I just need time,” she murmured, her desperation thick in her voice. Time to sort out her financial problems without the threat of an expensive court case hanging over her head. Time to come to grips with her attraction to a man she couldn’t possibly love. And time to convince herself that Will McCaffrey wasn’t the man of her dreams.

Yet, in a secret corner of her heart, she wondered what might happen if she agreed to marry him. Would he get scared and back down, deftly avoiding commitment as he had in the past? Or would he actually fulfill the terms of their contract and walk down the aisle with her?

Jane groaned softly, her mind spinning with the possibilities. What if she never found out for sure and lived to regret it? The choices she made today might seem like her only option. But how would they look in ten or fifteen years?