Читать книгу The Wedding Party Collection - Кейт Хьюит, Aimee Carson - Страница 56

Chapter Sixteen

Monday was D-day. At the end of the day, Betsy would break up with Ryan and quit her job. Then she’d contact the county attorney and give her statement. Though she realized leaving two jobs in such a short amount of time would look suspicious, she saw no other option.

Thankfully she’d made enough money to pay for the replacement furnace at her aunt’s house. Once the house sold, she’d leave the area.

Although she loved Jackson Hole and her friends here, she couldn’t be in the same town as Ryan. Sooner or later he’d find someone new to love, and Betsy couldn’t take the chance of running into him and his new girlfriend.

A sob rose to her throat, but she swallowed it, refusing to let the tears fall. Taking a couple of deep breaths, she forced her mind on business, on the stack of work waiting for her.

Betsy was so focused on her thoughts that she didn’t notice the older couple waiting outside the office until she reached the door. They looked familiar. Quickly she made the connection. “Mr. and Mrs. Harcourt?”

“I’m sorry.” Ryan’s mother tilted her head, her gray eyes clearly puzzled. “Have we met?”

Even though it had been ten years since Betsy had last seen her, Sylvia Harcourt didn’t look a day older. Instead of brushing her shoulders, her dark hair now hung just past her ears in a trendy bob. She was still as stylish as ever in a tweed coat that put Betsy’s parka to shame.

“I’m Betsy McGregor, Keenan’s sister.” She almost added “and your son’s girlfriend,” but she didn’t. Not only because they probably already knew that, but because after today it would no longer be relevant.

“Oh, of course,” Sylvia said a little too heartily, which told Betsy she didn’t remember at all. “How are you, dear?”

“I’m doing well.” Betsy unlocked the door and motioned them inside. “Ryan should be here shortly.”

“I didn’t know you were working for our boy.” Frank Harcourt had to be close to sixty. Unlike his wife he looked every bit his age. Of course a bald head fringed with gray tended to do that to a man.

“It’s a recent thing.” Betsy flipped on the office lights. “About six weeks.”

“He’s lucky to have you.” Sylvia unbuttoned her coat. “Good help is hard to find.”

Betsy’s smile froze. Ryan had talked to his parents since they’d become “involved,” but it was becoming increasingly obvious he hadn’t mentioned her in any of those conversations. “Ryan didn’t tell me you’d be stopping by.”

“It was a last-minute kind of thing.” Frank shrugged out of his overcoat to reveal a pair of crisply pressed navy pants and a striped dress shirt. “We’re headed to Salt Lake. That’s where Ryan’s sister and her family live. But Ryan has been doing some legal work for us and—”

“Frank, I’m sure the girl doesn’t want to hear our personal business,” his wife chided.

A thin layer of ice slowly wrapped itself around Betsy’s heart. “How about I make some coffee?”

“That would be nice, dear.” Sylvia slipped off her coat and gave it to her husband. He hung it on the antique coat tree next to his, then wandered over to the photograph of Ryan receiving one of his bull-riding medals.

Betsy measured out the water for the coffee.

Frank shook his head. “I wish the boy would put the same amount of effort into finding a wife as he did riding those bulls.”

“Ryan has dated a lot of women.” Betsy wasn’t sure why she’d jumped into the conversation with both feet. But once said, the words couldn’t be taken back.

“He’s like my brother,” Frank said. “Just like him.”

From the tone, Betsy surmised that wasn’t a compliment. She added the packet of ground beans and turned on the coffeemaker.

“Our son is not like your brother,” Sylvia protested. She straightened the picture, then stepped back, eyeing it as if to make sure it was level. “Jed is on his third marriage. Our son has yet to even walk down the aisle once.”

“I’m not talking about marriages, Sylvia. The boy falls in and out of love so fast it makes my head spin. Just like Jed.”

Betsy averted her eyes and pretended not to listen to the squabble.

“Oh, Frank, you know that’s not—”

“What about that woman last year? Kate. All I can say about her is she lasted longer than most. Then it was Mary or Misty. No, Mitzi. That didn’t last long at all. Then at Labor Day, it was Audrey.”

“Is he still dating Audrey?” Sylvia asked Betsy.

Betsy thought about correcting her, but decided the name didn’t matter. Adrianna or Audrey. She knew who Mrs. Harcourt meant.

“No,” Betsy said in a voice that sounded hollow. “I don’t believe he is.”

“I tell you, Sylvia, the boy doesn’t know what love is.”

“Dad. Mom.” Ryan stood in the doorway, a look of surprise on his face, a bag of scones in his hand.

Betsy knew the bag contained scones because every Monday, Ryan would pick them up on his way to the office. They’d enjoy them with their morning coffee. It had become a tradition. If you could call two weeks in a row a tradition.

“What are you doing here?” His gaze shifted from his parents to Betsy, then back.

“What does it look like?” his mother asked. “We’re visiting with your secretary while waiting for you.”

Betsy flinched. There was nothing wrong with being a secretary. There was just something about the way that his mother said the word. Dismissive. As if she didn’t matter.

“So you’ve met Bet—”

“We don’t have much time for small talk, son,” Frank interrupted. “You mother and I need to go over those papers with you before we leave for Salt Lake.”

“But I want you to get to know—”

“Honey.” His mother put a hand on his sleeve. “Your father is right. We don’t have much time. I apologize for simply popping in and expecting you to drop everything. But surely you can spare us a few minutes.”

“Mr. Fitzgibbons is driving in this morning from Idaho Falls to meet with you,” Betsy reminded him. “He should be here any moment.”

Ryan looked at Betsy. “Would you mind—”

“I’ll take care of him,” Betsy said. “And cover things out here.”

“Are you sure?” His gaze searched hers.

She forced a smile. “Positive.”

“Thank you.” He handed her the bag. “I brought scones.”

Betsy placed the sack on the desk for the last time. So often it was hard to know when a tradition ended. But after today there would be no more scones and no more intimate conversation and laughter between her and Ryan.

Her heart did a slow, painful roll.

“I’ll see you when we’re done?” he asked.

“Of course she will.” His mother’s comment spared Betsy the need of answering. “She works for you. Where else would she be?”

Where else indeed, Betsy thought as Ryan followed his parents out of the room.

The three had barely disappeared into his office when the phone rang. With the roads between Idaho Falls and Jackson snow-packed and more of the white stuff in the forecast, Mr. Fitzgibbons had decided against making the trip.

Betsy rescheduled the elderly man and wished him a good afternoon. Because they didn’t have any other clients scheduled for the morning, she placed the bell on the counter and went to her office.

The door to Ryan’s office wasn’t shut completely. Betsy thought about closing it but decided that might be even more disruptive.

“Betsy isn’t my secretary, Mom,” Ryan said, his voice tight with frustration. “She’s my legal assistant. More importantly, she’s my girlfriend.”

Betsy wasn’t surprised he told them. The only thing that surprised her was he hadn’t told them before. Of course, considering how his father had gone on about his past relationships, he’d probably learned to keep his mouth shut.

Betsy slid her chair closer to the door just in time to hear his mother laugh.

“Oh, honey, for a second I thought you said you were dating the girl.”

“What happened to Audrey?” His father’s voice boomed.

“Yes, Mother, that’s what I said.” Ryan’s clipped tone spoke of his rising irritation. “Betsy and I are dating. And, Dad, I don’t know anyone named Audrey.”

Betsy wheeled her chair closer to the door. She glanced through the tiny opening just in time to see Frank’s brows pull together in a frown.

“Of course you know her. The one you couldn’t quit talking about over Labor Day. Audrey.”

“Adrianna?”

“It doesn’t matter now.” His father waved a dismissive hand. “If you can’t even remember her name, she’s obviously ancient history.”

“Betsy is the only woman who matters,” Ryan insisted.

“Honey, you can’t be serious. She’s your employee.” His mother sounded bewildered at his vehemence. “You barely know the woman. Last time we were in the office, Caroline was here.”

“What does that have to do with anything? I never dated Caroline.”

“I simply meant that Betsy is very new in your life.”

“I love her, Mom.”

Betsy’s breath caught in her throat. Even though she’d seen it in his eyes, she’d never heard him say those three little words. Until now.

Betsy loved him, too. Enough to protect him from Chad. And the scandal.

“Give it time,” Sylvia said in a gentle, if slightly patronizing, tone. “Don’t rush into anything.”

“I don’t need to give it time.” Ryan’s jaw jutted out. “Try to understand. All those other women taught me what I don’t want. Now I know what I want. I want Betsy. I want to marry her.”

His parents exchanged a glance.

“All your mother is saying is to take it slow. Don’t rush into anything.”

“If it’s true love, it will be there in six months.” His mother reached across the desk and patted his hand. “If you marry in haste and discover in another couple months she’s just another of your infatuations, it’s not only you who will be hurt, but her, as well.”

Ryan’s brows slammed together like two dark thunderclouds. He shoved his chair back.

“I’m sure that Betsy is a lovely young woman,” his mother continued, softening her tone. “She deserves a man who honestly and truly loves her. Until you’re sure of your feelings, don’t make any promises.”

Ryan rose abruptly and Betsy scooted from the door, her heart pounding. Seconds later his office door closed.

Betsy knew she wasn’t the kind of woman they wanted for their successful son. She wasn’t a doctor like Kate and Mitzi or a nurse-midwife like Adrianna. She was the daughter of an alcoholic former showgirl. A legal assistant with a brother in prison.

In time Ryan would have seen that, too. Unfortunately he wasn’t tired of her yet. Which meant he wouldn’t be breaking up with her today.

She would have to do it. She would have to make him believe that this had just been a brief fling for her. That she was tired of him and ready to move on.

Because if Ryan stayed with her, Chad would end up dragging him through the mud and ruining his reputation. Nobody was going to hurt the man Betsy loved. She would protect him...even if it meant breaking her own heart in the process.

* * *

Riding bulls had taught Ryan that he had to trust his gut. And right now his gut was signaling that something was wrong. Very wrong.

He tried telling himself it was simply a stressful morning for both of them. But the set to Betsy’s shoulders, the shuttered look to her eyes and the way she was too busy to share a scone and talk once his parents left told the story.

Worse yet, the day turned busy with clients coming in and out, which meant there was no time for private conversation. But he consoled himself with the knowledge that after work they could go somewhere quiet, have a nice dinner and he could make things right. Once he knew what was wrong.

There wasn’t anything they couldn’t work out. He’d seen his parents do it time and again over the years. An issue would come between them, but they were always able to compromise, find common ground and a solution they could both live with. It would be the same with him and Betsy. If it was simply that she needed more reassurance that he cared, he would give it to her.

In fact, tonight might be the time to pull out the ring he’d been carrying around in his pocket, tell her he loved her and ask her to marry him. His lips curved up in a smile, thinking of the celebration sure to follow....

A knock sounded on his partially closed office door.

He lifted his head and widened his smile. Just the woman he wanted to see. “Since when do you knock?”

“I wasn’t sure if you were off the phone or not.”

Ryan ignored the fact that she hadn’t returned his smile and motioned her inside. “With all the appointments done for the day, let’s take off early and do something fun. What do you say?”

Still no smile.

She took the seat across the desk and folded her hands into her lap. “We need to talk.”

Were there four more dreaded words in the English language? Unease slid its fingers up his spine, even as Ryan tried to tell himself this was no big deal. “What’s on your mind?”

“This isn’t working out.”

He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, trying to ignore his skyrocketing heart rate. Don’t assume, he told himself. Speculations are dangerous. Always work with facts.

“Could you be a little more specific?” Somehow he managed to keep the smile on his lips and his voice even. “Exactly what isn’t working out?”

“You and me.”

His heart stopped. Honest to goodness stopped.

Ryan blinked and fought to find his voice. “Pardon?”

“Our relationship,” she said. “It’s not working.”

“Since when?” His voice rose, then cracked.

“For a while.” She pressed her lips together and gazed down at her hands.

“How can that be?” Ryan remembered the time he’d fallen off his dirt bike and had the air knocked out of him. He felt the same way now. “Everything has been good.”

She lifted her head and met his gaze. “I just don’t want to date you anymore.”

Panic raced through his veins even as he kept his expression controlled. “Tell me what’s not working. What you don’t like. We’ll make it better. I’ll make it better.”

Compromise. They would compromise and everything would be as good as new, except she was saying it hadn’t been good. Not for her.

“There’s nothing you can do.” She met his gaze. “Just like all those other women you dated that you got tired of and didn’t want to date anymore. A person can’t change the way they feel.”

“But I love you.” The admission tumbled from his lips. This wasn’t the way he wanted to tell her. No, never like this. But it was important—very important—that she knew how much she meant to him.

Something flashed in her eyes. A look he couldn’t quite decipher but one that gave him hope. Hope that her leaving him wasn’t a done deal.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “And because we won’t be together anymore, it’d probably be best if I didn’t work for you.”

“Don’t I get a say in this?” he asked, on the verge of begging.

“No.”

“Don’t you love me? Or even like me? Just a little bit?”

For a second her tightly controlled features began to crumble, but then the mask returned. “It’s over, Ryan. There’s nothing you can say or do to change my mind.”

She rose then and turned toward the door.

“Why, Betsy?” he called out to her. “Why?”

“It’s for the best,” she said without turning as she walked out of his office and out of his life.

Ryan slumped back in his chair and realized his parents had left out one very important detail in their relationship advice.

Compromise only worked when both parties wanted a relationship to succeed.