Forgotten Honeymoon (10 page)

Kelly didn’t want to ask any more questions,
but she couldn’t get Nigel’s words out of her head.
Is sleeping
with the boss’ daughter one of his perks, or the reason he was
promoted?

She asked, “Is that why you married me, to
speed up the process?”

His hands stilled. “What are you talking
about?”

She twisted around to face him, holding the
bodice of her gown against herself so that it wouldn’t gap forward.
“I mean, marrying the boss’ daughter is always a good career move.
And I do own a lot of Rawlins stock.”

His eyes grew stormy. “Is that what you think
-- that I married you to advance my career?”

She didn’t want to think that’s why he’d
married her, but she had to ask. “Then tell me why you did. I want
to understand.”

He looked guilty; she read it in his eyes.
There was something he wasn’t telling her. “Well?” she
prompted.

He didn’t say the words she wanted to hear.
I love you Kelly. You mean the world to me, Kelly.

As the silence lengthened, she felt as if her
heart were breaking. She should have known better. Lars was a
Rawlins man, first and foremost.

“Get out,” she said suddenly and kicked at
him with her stocking clad feet. Surprised by the sudden move, he
fell off the couch, onto the floor.

“What are you doing? Kelly, this is insane.”
He scrambled to his feet as she hurried to the door of the bedroom.
He caught her arm.

She pulled away. “I don’t want you to touch
me. Not ever. I’m not one of your perks.”

“What are you talking about? You know I care
about you. I thought we were going to start over, building on what
we have. Our friendship.”

It was too little, too late. She refused to
be a rung on the ladder of his advancement.
Baby or no
baby
.

“This is our honeymoon,” he persisted.

“You forget, Lars,” she said coolly. “We
already had our honeymoon.” With that, she shut and locked the
adjoining doors.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The next morning, Lars asked, “Are you
okay?”

Kelly closed the bathroom door behind her.
Lars looked disgustingly chipper. He’d showered, shaved and dressed
while she slept. He wore neatly pressed khaki pants and instead of
a shirt and tie -- an ironed polo shirt. This must be casual dress
for him.

She was still wearing her wrinkled slip.
She’d thrown the wedding dress at the foot of the bed before she
cried herself to sleep.
What a watering pot I’ve become
, she
thought with disgust. She wished she could blame it all on the
pregnancy.

His concerned scrutiny embarrassed her. She’d
looked in the mirror and knew she looked awful. She pushed her hair
out of her eyes. “I’m fine. Just a little morning sickness, I
guess.”

“Does that happen often?”

This was the Lars she’d known so long. Calm,
cool, and friendly. As if he hadn’t tried to undress her last night
or pounded on the adjoining door, telling her they needed to talk.
“No, this is the first time I’ve actually thrown up,” she said,
striving for the same civilized tone. “Maybe I ate too much last
night.”

“Weddings can be a little stressful.”

An understatement if ever there was one.
“Yes.” She straightened and looked him in the eye. “About last
night,” she began bravely. “I’m sorry I blew up at you.”

“No. You have nothing to apologize for. It’s
going to take time for us to get used to being married.”

At his words, Kelly knew she’d made a
mistake. She should have slept with him last night. Then he
wouldn’t be talking behind this wall of politeness that froze her
out.

So what if he married her to advance his
career? No one’s motives were ever completely clear. She was
staying married to him to provide a good home environment for the
baby, and because she genuinely liked him. And if he was staying
married because of the baby, and to help his career, and because he
found her attractive, then she could accept that.

She had to accept that if she wanted this
marriage to work.

He added calmly, “In light of our
conversation last night, I thought it best to cancel our cruise.”
Like her parents, they had planned to take a cruise. A three week
cruise, on a different boat.

She nodded. After she’d slammed the door in
his face, a honeymoon cruise would have been a little awkward. Men
didn’t take rejection kindly, and with their history, Lars had
reason not to trust her. How was she going to make amends? “Good
idea,” she said, determined to sound cheerful. “Now you’ll be able
to attend the Board of Director’s meeting this week.”

He watched her carefully as if looking for a
hidden meaning. “Yes.”

She took his hand and gave it a friendly
squeeze. “You’re going to make a great President of Rawlins
Lighting.”

#

Brenda called at seven p.m. and asked if she
could come over that night. Not for dinner, just to talk.

Kelly was feeling tired. “Do you want to meet
for lunch tomorrow?”

“No,” she said quickly. “Not lunch. I want to
talk to you privately.”

Now Kelly was worried. With all the
excitement of her wedding and moving into her new house, she hadn’t
kept up with Brenda as well as she should have. They’d texted and
talked on the phone a few times, but there had been no deep
conversations for the past three weeks. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I just want to talk.”

She could tell from the clipped tone of her
words that she was not fine. “Then come on over.”

“I won’t be interrupting anything?” Brenda
asked. “You’ve only been married a few weeks.”

“No, you won’t be interrupting anything,”
Kelly said dryly. Lars was avoiding her by working insanely long
hours.

Within an hour, Brenda was on her front
doorstep. Kelly opened the front door. Brenda was still in her work
clothes -- black fitted pants, crisp white blouse and black jacket.
“You look great,” she said. “That wig is amazing.”

Brenda flipped the long strands over her
shoulder. “I don’t think anyone at work has noticed that it’s not
real. At least no one has said anything.”

“Do you want anything to eat?” Kelly asked,
once they were sitting in the kitchen.

Brenda shook her head. “No, I’m fine.” She
looked around the house and said with approval, “You’re settling
in. It looks good.”

Kelly shrugged. There was still so much more
to do. “Thanks.”

“Where’s Lars?”

“He’s working late.” There was no point in
telling her than he nearly always worked late, often coming home
after she had fallen asleep.

“So what’s it like being married?” Brenda
asked.

A lot like being single, unfortunately. They
slept in separate bedrooms. “It’s okay,” she said.

Brenda raised one eyebrow inquiringly. “I
guess the honeymoon’s over.”

The honeymoon never got started
. “No,
it’s fine. I’m fine,” she lied. Back when she was single, she would
have told Brenda everything, but now that she was married, it felt
disloyal to give her all the gruesome details. “Now tell me about
you,” she said.

Brenda took a deep breath. “Here goes. I just
wanted to tell you something face-to-face rather than having you
hear it somewhere else.”

Kelly steeled herself.

“I’m getting married.”

Oh no. Kelly purposely kept her voice flat.
“To Steven?”

Brenda smiled. “No.”

“Thank goodness,” Kelly gasped, which made
Brenda give a little laugh. They both smiled. Now Kelly wasn’t so
worried. “Okay. Tell me everything.”

“There’s not much to tell,” Brenda said. “I’m
marrying a man named Marius Jaworski. He’s from Poland. He’s
getting a graduate degree at SMU.”

Kelly was stunned. It was unbelievable. “But
how? I mean, have you known him long?”

“He’s been a customer at the bank for two
years.”

“And you’ve never mentioned him?”

“No, there wasn’t anything to tell.”

“Until now.”

Brenda laughed. “I know it sounds crazy, but
we’re getting married on the fourth of July.”

“So soon?”

“Isn’t that a case of the pot calling the
kettle black?”

Kelly shook her head, ruefully. “You’re
right.” At least Brenda wasn’t running off to Reno and not telling
anyone. She smiled. “Sorry.”

“And I would like you to be my maid -- I
mean, Matron of Honor.”

“I’d be delighted.” Kelly wanted to be happy
for her friend, but felt that there was something Brenda wasn’t
telling her. Less than a month ago, she’d dumped Steven and shaved
her head. For her to find someone else so quickly worried her. “Do
you love him?”

Brenda hesitated, then said clearly, “Yes, I
do.”

Oh no
. Brenda was lying, too.

#

Lars sat at his desk, rubbing his forehead as
he looked at the papers before him. Frank Rawlins had turned over
the reins of his company too soon. He should have stayed on for the
transition instead of going off on his Australian cruise, leaving
him to sink or swim. For the past month, Lars had felt as if he
were sinking. Being Vice President of Production had not prepared
him to be President of Rawlins Lighting. There were too many
decisions to make without sufficient information.

There was a trucking strike effecting
deliveries on the east coast, he was negotiating a bank loan to
upgrade the plant in South Carolina, and it was time to re-evaluate
the employee health benefits. And to top it all, he was still
supervising the construction of the plant in Boston.

A buzzer at his desk rang. He picked up his
phone. “Kelly’s here to see you,” Claire announced.

Lars didn’t look up from his work. “Tell her
I don’t have time--”

Kelly opened the door. “This will just take a
minute, I promise,” she said, walking towards him.

Today she wore a blue slip and a layered
overdress of some sheer turquoise material that floated around her
ankles. She was beautiful. She must be almost four months along
now, but she still didn’t look pregnant.

Not that he’d seen her up close and personal.
After the wedding day, he’d done his best to keep his distance.
They slept in separate bedrooms, and he tried to convince himself
that it was wise to maintain the status quo. As he reminded himself
daily, a platonic friendship with Kelly was better than no Kelly at
all.

But sometimes he was tempted to give in to
his baser instincts. Would she pull away if he tried to kiss
her?

I don’t want you to touch me. Not
ever
.

He frowned. “You have to leave. I have an
important meeting in less than twenty minutes and --”

“My father always had time to see me,” Kelly
protested.

That was part of the problem. Frank had given
her everything she ever wanted. Lars was beginning to think Kelly
had never learned the meaning of the word “no.”

Kelly handled him two printed screen shots.
“I have two different dining room sets I’m considering. Which one
do you like better?”

“They both look very nice.”

“You didn’t even look at them.”

Chairs were chairs. What did he care what
they looked like? He looked at the two options for a second, then
pointed. “I like this one.”

She smiled. “Oh good, that’s my favorite,
too.”

“If you’ve already decided, why are you
asking me? It’s just a waste of time.”

“It’s your house, too, Mr. Time-is-Money,”
she reminded lightly. “Although you’re hardly home enough to make
it more than a pit stop between meetings and business trips. I
hardly ever see you, Lars.”

That’s what he thought she wanted, but had he
misunderstood her? “You’re seeing me now.”

“But I don’t even have your full attention.
You’re thinking about this piece of paper,” She whipped it off his
desk and held it high over her head. “If you want it, you’re going
to have to come get it,” she teased in a seductive tone.

On another day, he might have found her
antics amusing. “I don’t have time for this,” he said wearily. “I
have a real job.”

She froze. “What does that mean?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. It doesn’t
matter.”

She persisted. “Are you implying that I don’t
have a real job? Do you think throwing pots is just a hobby?”

He sighed. He didn’t want to offend her. “You
work very hard, and you’re very talented, but you know as well as I
that KPots doesn’t generate enough income to support you.”

“Since when? The first six months were shaky,
but since then, I’ve been doing fine.”

He raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “No
handouts from daddy?”

“No. I’ll admit Dad spoiled me while I was
growing up, but I’m completely independent now. I’m not daddy’s
little girl, I’m a professional potter.”

“Who was still living at home.”

“And paying rent,” she countered defensively.
“I would have moved out three years ago, if Mom hadn’t had her
heart attack. I realized our time together was precious, so I
decided to stay.”

He envied her attachment to her parents.
“Then I apologize,” he said. “I didn’t realize KPots was doing so
well.”

She relaxed at his apology. “It’s still a bit
of a financial roller coaster,” she admitted, “but it’s the right
job for me. I’d go stir crazy working a traditional nine to five. I
can’t imagine anything more boring than to be cooped --” She caught
herself. “Oops, now I’m offending you. Sorry.”

She thought he was boring. Suddenly tired, he
said, “Don’t apologize. I know what you and your crowd think of the
business world.”

“I don’t have a crowd,” she corrected. “And I
don’t have a problem with the business world. I just like being my
own boss and wearing comfortable clothes while I work. I might not
pursue every opportunity as diligently as you’d like, but I value
the quality of my life more than my bank balance.”