Three Brides, No Groom (9 page)

“We’re going to do a mile,” she announced.

A chorus of unharmonious gripes followed. One overweight boy
fell to the ground and played dead.

“Hey, guys. This isn’t a time test. Run, walk, crawl, I don’t
care,” she said, laughing at their complete lack of enthusiasm. “All I’m asking
is for each of you to complete a mile.”

“You actually want us to crawl?”

“Whatever it takes, but the sooner everyone’s finished, the
sooner we can shower and go home for the day.”

The words “go home for the day” captured the class’s
attention.

“The other teacher didn’t say anything about making us do
this,” someone complained.

“Really?” Carol flipped back the papers on her clipboard. “Hey,
you’re right,” she said, holding her index finger in place. “It says five miles
here.”

A short shocked silence was followed by a chorus of
disbelief.

The boy who’d played dead miraculously recovered. He sat up and
said, “No, it doesn’t.”

She thrust her right arm into the air. “How many of you would
prefer five miles?”

Not a hand went up.

“One mile?”

Every hand went up.

“Then get to it.”

With a dismal lack of enthusiasm, the teenagers started jogging
toward the track. Being in top physical condition herself, she didn’t understand
their aversion to exercise. She was sure that by the time they finished the
mile—four laps around the track—each and every one of them would experience a
surge of well-being.

She was wrong. When all fourteen had completed the required
number of laps, they acted as if they’d completed World War Two’s Bataan Death
March.

Six of the boys had attempted to cheat by only finishing three
laps, but she had kept careful count. Amid protests and threats, she’d sent each
one back and penalized him an additional lap. It might not have won her an award
for popularity, but she doubted anyone else would pull that trick.

To her surprise one of the girls jogged up to her on the way to
the locker room. “Thanks,” she said, grinning.

“For what?” Carol asked.

“For making Eddie, Jim and Charles do the whole mile. The other
teacher probably wouldn’t have noticed, and then they’d think they’d gotten away
with something.”

“They’re only cheating themselves.”

“I know,” the girl said, her blond hair bouncing. “But they
haven’t figured it out yet.”

It hadn’t escaped Carol’s notice that one of the boys was named
Eddie. Like this high schooler, her Eddie hadn’t yet discovered that by
canceling their wedding, he was cheating himself, too.

Sooner or later he would want her back. Now that she wasn’t
with him, wasn’t there to listen to his tales of triumph on the playing field or
have her rub the soreness from his shoulder, no doubt he was already missing
her. Sure to be thinking about her.

When he did phone—and he would, she was convinced of that—she
would make him suffer, but for only a little while. He had plenty of lessons to
learn, and she was the woman to teach them. Her pride had taken a tremendous
beating, and he needed to understand that she wouldn’t allow him to treat her
that way ever again.

At the end of the day, she walked down the high school
corridor, the soles of her running shoes squeaking slightly against the floor.
Her heart felt lighter than at any time since graduation. Substitute teaching
helped keep her mind off Eddie and the fact that she didn’t have a full-time
job.

She strolled past a line of classrooms and noticed another
teacher writing on the blackboard at the front of one of them. Three rows of
tables, topped with computers, stretched from one side of the room to the other.
No students.

“Clark?” Carol did a double take.

Was Clark Rusbach really here at Ballard High School? Clark was
Queen Anne’s resident computer wizard. A man so left-brain he practically walked
with a limp. Throughout her college career, she had secretly admired his
genius.

He was tall, on the lean side, and fiercely intense. His thick
dark hair, which needed to be cut, fell awkwardly over his forehead. Although it
was a warm July day, he wore slacks and a sweater more suitable for autumn. But
then, he never had been one to follow convention. In fact, what had always
intrigued her about him was his complete lack of any need to conform. A true
individualist, he lived and breathed in a world foreign to her own.

She had hated the way Eddie always made fun of Clark, calling
him a nerd and making him the brunt of tasteless jokes. Clark had never reacted
to Eddie’s crude comments, which had earned him her respect. It couldn’t have
been easy, but if Clark was bothered by any of it, he didn’t allow it to show.
His world consisted of bytes, bits and chips, and they appeared to understand
and appreciate him far better than his fellow humans did.

“Carol?” He’d turned to stare at the doorway. “Is that you?
What are you doing here?”

She stepped into the room and said, “I was about to ask you the
same thing.” Shortly before graduation, rumors had abounded that Clark had been
wooed by Softline, a big Seattle-based software conglomerate. She had heard that
the company’s young ultrarich owner had personally courted Clark and offered him
an employment package with a salary said to be in the mid six figures.

“I’m here as part of a community-service project for Softline.
They said it’s supposed to help us understand the frustrations of students
trying to learn new and advanced programs.” Absently he brushed the hair from
his forehead. “I don’t know about the kids’ frustrations,” he muttered, “but I
experienced a few of my own. Were we this dense?”

She laughed. “I suspect so. At least I was.” Although they’d
taken a number of classes together, she and Clark had rarely exchanged more than
a casual greeting.

He hesitated and then said, “I thought you’d be married to
Eddie and living in Denver by now.”

Embarrassed, she lowered her gaze, not wanting to talk about
Eddie. However, it was only natural that Clark was curious. “I guess you didn’t
hear. Eddie broke off the engagement. He didn’t think this was a good time to
marry, what with him signing with the pros and all.”

Clark’s thick dark eyebrows bunched together. “He broke off the
engagement?” he asked, sounding incredulous, as if her former fiancé had made
the biggest mistake of his life. “Eddie might have a good throwing arm, but I
never
was
overly impressed with his brains. I don’t
see you two as a couple, really.”

His words soothed her battered ego, and she smiled to show him
she appreciated his kindness.

“Why are you still in Seattle? I thought your family came from
the East Coast,” he asked.

“They do…but I like living in the Pacific Northwest and was
hoping to get a full-time teaching job.” Which was not the entire truth, she
realized.

While she put on a cheerful facade, the past few weeks hadn’t
been easy. Talking about Eddie was like tearing away a half-healed scab. She
discovered that tears were close to the surface.

“So how’s the job hunt going?” he asked.

Her only answer was a shrug.

“I take it that means not good?”

She tried to put on a happy face and failed. “Not the best, but
I’ll be fine.” An awkward silence followed. “Well, it was nice seeing you
again,” she said, eager to escape before she made a fool of herself by breaking
into sobs.

“I don’t know if it’d be much help,” he said, stopping her,
“but I understand Softline’s hiring. It wouldn’t hurt to put in an application
there.”

At this point she wasn’t picky.
Have rent
payment, will work,
was her motto. “Thanks. I’ll give them a
try.”

* * *

A week and a half later, Carol was called in for an
interview with a Softline human-resources manager.

“I’m afraid all we have at present are several temporary
positions,” the woman said, scanning her files. “I notice here that you’ve got a
friend at the company.”

Carol could feel the color creep up her neck. “A friend?”

“Yes, one of our up-and-comers put in a good word for you. That
helps.”

“Well, I’m a hard worker.”

“I’m sure you are. What I’d like to do is start out by having
you fill in for some of the support personnel when they go out on vacations. I
notice your secretarial skills are excellent.”

“Thank you.”

“Could you start first thing Monday morning?”

“That would be great.” Carol didn’t bother to disguise her
eagerness. Now she could pay the rent and meet her other expenses until school
started up in the fall and she could—fingers crossed—substitute on a regular
basis.

The woman punched a few keys on her computer keyboard and
waited for the printout. “You’ll start by replacing one of our executive
secretaries.” She handed the printout to Carol.

Not until she left the building did Carol read the name of the
person she would be working with.

Clark Rusbach.

Chapter 2

B
right and early Monday morning, fifteen
minutes ahead of schedule, Carol located Clark’s office at Softline. Finding his
name etched in gold on the door, she experienced a surge of pride that this
incredibly brilliant man was her friend.

Knowing Clark, he hadn’t anticipated that the woman who’d
interviewed her would mention his recommendation. Her guess was that he wouldn’t
want her to know what he’d done. Nevertheless, it was sweet of him.

She traced her index finger over the incised letters of his
name and smiled to herself. Just a month out of college and already Clark
Rusbach had made his presence felt in the business world. And yet he also
managed to be incredibly thoughtful. Eddie could take a few lessons from Clark.
When the time came, she would be sure her former fiancé learned how good Clark
had been to her.

Stepping into Clark’s office, she paused and glanced around,
soaking in the ambiance. Her smile widened. The one thing you could expect from
Clark was the unexpected. While the outer office consisted of a desk, chair,
filing cabinet and other secretarial paraphernalia, he worked in what might be
best described as a research lab. Well, sort of. The large room held several
tables and chairs, multiple desks and no less than six computers. On the walls
were diagrams that resembled road maps of China and three calendars, all with
Monday the fifteenth—which was a week away—circled in red.

* * *

By the time Clark arrived, Carol had coffee brewing and
was humming softly to herself. She’d sorted through the regular mail and placed
it in a neat stack on his desk. One of his desks. He had five.

“Good morning,” she said, feeling slightly awkward. Always
before they’d been on equal footing, but now Clark was her boss.

“Mornin’.”

“I’m taking Mrs. Derby’s place while she’s away,” she explained
unnecessarily,

“So I see.” He shed his jacket and hung it in the closet next
to her own cardigan sweater. “Do you have any questions?”

“Yes…several.” She hesitated, not sure how to begin. “Do you
want me to call you Mr. Rusbach? Would you prefer I pretend I don’t know
you?”

He chuckled. “Clark will do. Relax, we’re friends. It was just
the luck of the draw that you happened to be assigned to me right off.”

“We
are
friends, aren’t we?” Until
her interview she’d considered Clark to be more of an acquaintance. “Thanks for
putting in a good word for me,” she said, forgetting that she’d decided not to
mention what he’d done.

His shook his head as though to dismiss her appreciation and
headed toward his own office.

“How do you like your coffee?” she called after him.

He reached for his mail and glanced toward her. She was
standing in the doorway between the two rooms, rubbing her palms together,
awaiting his response.

“Hot.”

“You got it.” She poured him a mug, and then carried it into
his office and set it down on the desk with the mail. She started to return to
her own room, changed her mind and abruptly turned around. “Clark?”

He glanced up, his gaze expectant.

She hesitated, then said, “I’d like to ask you
something…personal.”

“Okay.”

She hadn’t intended to do this, but nothing ventured, nothing
gained. “I signed up for ballroom dancing classes at the community center for
Monday, Wednesday and Friday nights, and I was wondering…” She trailed off,
wondering if it was wise to put him on the spot.

“You need to leave the office a few minutes early those days?
Sure.”

“No,” she said, surprised that he didn’t understand what she
wanted. “I’d like it if you’d come with me—that is, if you want to.” It would be
a lot more fun if she had a partner, although the instructor had said she was
welcome to attend without one.

“I’m not really the dancing type,” he replied.

Carol thought she heard a bit of regret in his voice, as if he
was halfway tempted. “But you could learn, and it would be fun.”

For a month she’d done nothing but sit in her tiny apartment
night after night and feel sorry for herself. The dance classes offered a
welcome respite from what was fast becoming monotony.

“Yes, but—”

“You could do it,” she coaxed, giving him a warm smile. “No
one’s going to laugh at you.”

“Why me?” he asked.

“Well, because first off, I like you, and there isn’t any
chance of anything romantic developing between us. I mean…well, you know.”

“No. I don’t know.”

“Because of Eddie.”

“What about him?”

“Anytime now Eddie’s going to want me back and the two of us
will get married,” she said.

“You mean to say you’d actually marry him after what he did to
you?” Clark looked shocked.

She realized it probably sounded as though she had no
self-esteem if she would willingly forgive Eddie when he’d treated her so badly.
While she had every intention of marrying him—eventually—she would demand he pay
a hefty penance first.

“Eddie can be shallow,” she said, hoping Clark understood. “I
know that about him, and I know how easily led he sometimes is. I’ll make the
decision about my future with him when the time comes.”

She could see that her response didn’t please him. He said, “In
other words, you’re inviting me to these dance classes of yours because you
consider yourself safe in my company because I’m a geek.”

She didn’t know how to answer.

“I see,” he told her when she reminded silent. “Well, in that
case, perhaps you should ask someone else.” He turned back to his mail,
effectively dismissing her.

Carol felt terrible. Obviously he’d taken her silence as
confirmation of his statement. She’d been looking to thank him for being her
friend and had ended up insulting him. Worse, she’d managed to start off the
week on the wrong foot. Depressed beyond words, she slowly returned to her
office and propped her forehead on the heel of her hand.

Before Eddie canceled the wedding, she’d been a confident and
composed woman. Now, it seemed, words twisted themselves around her tongue, and
she possessed all the poise of a four-year-old on roller skates.

That morning set the tone. She and Clark barely exchanged a
word over the next four days. At first she assumed she’d insulted him so
thoroughly he’d simply chosen to avoid her. Only later did she realize he was
working hard. Every now and again he came into her office needing one thing or
another. If she wasn’t available, he left instructions on her desk. He arrived
early and left after she’d gone home. If it hadn’t been for the other
secretaries in the department, she would have felt as though she’d been set
adrift on an iceberg.

Mrs. Derby had thoughtfully prepared a list of instructions for
her replacement, and Carol followed them religiously. The other secretaries told
her that Clark was deeply involved in developing a revolutionary software
program, a project he’d first envisioned while still in college. On Monday the
fifteenth he was scheduled to give a demonstration of the program’s capabilities
to the company’s board of directors.

That explained why he had basically ignored her all week.

Friday afternoon at closing time, she cleaned off her desk and
was ready to leave when he appeared and glanced around.

“Carol, could you—” He stopped abruptly when he saw her
standing with her purse draped over her shoulder. He seemed surprised, until he
glanced at the wall clock and noted the time. “I didn’t realize it was so
late.”

“Do you need me?”

He hesitated and then shook his head. “It’s fine. You can
go.”

“Clark, please, I’d like to help if I can. If it wasn’t for
you, I probably wouldn’t even have this job.”

“What about your dance class?”

“Oh. I decided to postpone it.”

“Because you needed a partner?”

“No, not really. It just didn’t turn out the way I wanted it
to.”

He ran his fingers through his hair. “I’ll make a deal with
you. If you can stay late and help me out here, I’d be willing to take those
classes with you.”

As far as Carol was concerned, that was the deal of the
century. “You’re on!”

“You’re sure you don’t have a date?”

She shook her head. She was reluctant to admit that she still
had faith that in time Eddie would come to his senses. She didn’t want Clark to
remind her that such thinking was dangerous. She knew it was. Yet, hard as she
tried, she couldn’t make herself believe it was really over with Eddie.

She’d dated him for almost four years. She knew him better than
anyone—faults, foibles and flaws. They’d been a team, a couple, two of the most
popular personalities on campus. Their love had been a storybook romance. The
head cheerleader and the football hero. Their looks had complemented each other,
too. She was tall and slim, with rich chestnut-colored hair and deep blue eyes.
Eddie was blond and built and gorgeous. A hunk.

Clark was nothing like Eddie. He was more the kind of hero you
would find in a spy thriller. At first glance his features were completely
nondescript. Not one characteristic about him stood out, and he blended into the
crowd.

But once she’d really paid attention to his appearance, she’d
realized how attractive his eyes were. They were a soft brown, a shade darker
than his hair. He was an inch or so taller than she was, and while she wouldn’t
describe him as muscular, he looked as if he kept physically fit. Perhaps he
jogged or enjoyed hiking.

“So you’ve decided against dating anyone at the moment?” he
asked.

“For now,” she said. “It’s too soon after Eddie.” That was
true. She missed her former fiancé too much to think about dating anyone else.
“Anyway, I’d like to stay and help,” she offered. “And really, you don’t need to
volunteer for the dance classes unless you really want to take them.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. I don’t have any plans other than to veg out in
front of the television.” That was what she did most nights. She slept poorly,
awoke at odd hours. In the long frustrating weeks since graduation she’d become
personally acquainted with every late-night show on TV.

“I guess I should warn you,” Clark said. “I’ve had an
irrepressible urge to take up ballroom dancing.” His face relaxed into a rare
smile. The transformation in his looks was amazing. His eyes changed to a warm
shade of amber, and a dimple appeared in each cheek. She was mesmerized. It
demanded every ounce of control she possessed not to ask him to smile once more
just so she could see those dimples again.

Clark needed her to transcribe his notes and then format them
for his presentation. It amazed her that someone so familiar with computers
didn’t like to use one himself. He’d even asked her to print out his e-mails for
him.

It took her a couple of hours, and when she’d finished, her
stomach was growling. It had been a long time since lunch, and she was starved.
Planting her hand on her stomach, she waited for the growling to subside.

“Do you like Chinese food?” Clark asked unexpectedly.

Carol looked over at him. “Chinese? Adore it. Why?”

“I’m ordering dinner. You interested?”

She nodded, returning her gaze to his meticulous notes.
“Sure.”

“Any preferences?”

“Hot, spicy and lots of it,” she answered.

A moment later she heard him reach for the phone behind her.
His conversation was followed by a call to alert security that their dinner
would be delivered in half an hour.

By the time the food arrived, she had completed formatting the
presentation. He proofread the printout while she opened up the numerous white
cardboard boxes and dug through the paper bag for napkins and eating utensils.
The smell of chili peppers, ginger and vegetables made her mouth water. Sitting
on the edge of the desk, she plucked a fat shrimp from a box and brought it,
dripping hot chili sauce, to her mouth. Some of the juice rolled down her chin,
and she only saved it from staining her blouse in the nick of time. As she set
the napkin aside, she noted that Clark’s gaze had left the typed presentation
and he was studying her.

She froze. “Did I do something wrong?” Perhaps he’d ordered the
shrimp for himself and hadn’t intended on sharing. Feeling guilty, she lowered
the box back to the desk top.

“No, no, you’re fine.”

Nevertheless, she waited until he’d finished reading before she
ate any more. Luckily it didn’t take him long. He opted to sit in her chair,
leaning it back as far as it would go and propping his feet on the corner of the
desk. Both of them worked the chopsticks, too hungry to carry on a
conversation.

Once the edge was off her hunger, she glanced at him. “If Mrs.
Derby could see us now…” Although Carol had never met the woman, it hadn’t taken
her long to know that Clark’s secretary was a neatness junkie, one who would
never risk tainting her workplace with soy-sauce stains.

Clark chuckled.

The chopsticks poised in front of her mouth, she said, “Do that
again.” At his puzzled look, she said, “I want you to laugh again.” She waved
him on with her chopsticks.

He frowned, but even that wasn’t able to destroy the effect the
short burst of laughter had had on him. His eyes had warmed, and he appeared
more approachable, more human.

Four days earlier she had thought of him as nondescript. While
she admired his genius, she’d viewed him as dull. But having dinner together,
sharing Mongolian beef, Szechuan shrimp and Chinese noodles, had been the final
step in altering her opinion. While he wasn’t the type to call attention to
himself, and in fact he avoided it, that didn’t mean he was boring. Like her
peers at Queen Anne University, she’d been blind to the warm generous man behind
the brains.

“Carol?”

She lowered her gaze when she realized she was staring. “Your
face changes when you smile,” she said.