For Nick (6 page)

“My sentiments exactly.” So, Robert noticed the sadness in her eyes also. Interesting. He could be very perceptive sometimes. “Do you like her, Robert? I never can tell with you.”

Robert smiled one of his smiles that looked more like a grimace. “She’s darn good looking. But I could never trust a woman who’s willing to marry a stranger for money.”

“You don’t trust anyone, Robert.”

“Too true. However, I must point out, this is not exactly what
he
had in mind for you and you know it. In fact, this is not at all what
he
wanted for you. You’re living in a loophole.”

“One that you created for me.”

“Don’t blame this on me. It’s entirely your decision. And quit worrying about Chambers. I’ll take care of him. He thinks we’re all members of the Lawyer Club.”

Zach let out his breath. Robert was right. What kind of woman marries a stranger for money? But then, what kind of man asks her to? It put them on an even playing field, did it not? Neither could look down upon the other for it.

Of one thing he was certain, he was strangely looking forward to getting to know Andrea Parker. And that was as unexpected as this ridiculous idea of love and happiness in marriage. That only comes once in life and he’d already had his turn.

And lost it.

-5-

“Andie, it’s Zach. May I take you to dinner on Friday night?”

He sounded different over the phone, busy, preoccupied. So much for pleasantries. “Sure. Where are we going? I’ll meet you there.”

“No, I’ll pick you up at your apartment,” he said distractedly.

“I’d rather meet you at the restaurant, really, there’s no need for gentlemanly manners when we both know this is business,” she told him lightly.

“I’d like to pick you up and see you home safely. Please let me,” he added, his full attention directed at her now.

“All right,” she relented. “Thank you. I’ll see you then.”

While appreciative of his thoughtfulness, her living conditions were embarrassing. Andie worried over it night and day and by the time Friday arrived, she was sure the persistent pain in her stomach had produced an ulcer. She was acutely aware that Zach’s reaction would be one of shock. There wasn’t anything she could do about it. This was her life. Still, she hated feeling like the pauper who’d just attached herself to the rich man. She feared this would be the conclusion he drew when he saw her living space.

By the time she opened the door to him on Friday night at seven-ten, when he said he’d be there at seven-thirty, she faced him with apprehension. They greeted each other and then stood in her doorway uncertainly. His eyes wandered around her apartment, taking everything in. He didn’t comment, in fact his face registered no response whatsoever and he was his usual ‘polite to a fault’ self.

“You’re early. I’ll just be a few more minutes. Make yourself at home.” She cringed at the thought. There was no place to sit and be comfortable unless he wanted to lie down on the bed, and that was out of the question. “I just moved here. I sold my belongings before I moved. Guess you could say I’m starting over.” The pregnant pause that followed was filled with unasked questions. “I’ll just be in the bathroom, I mean, not using the bathroom, but getting ready to go, I mean…never mind.” Andie escaped to the safety of the tiniest lavatory known to mankind, wondering what was wrong with her. Her nerves were causing her to act like a bumbling idiot. Her thoughts turned to Zach. He looked good, impeccably dressed as always in black dress pants with a royal blue dress shirt, open at the neck. Instead of his usual suit coat, he wore a black leather jacket. She stared at herself in the mirror wishing she was dressed to match, but knowing it was useless.
It is what it is.

Zach was astounded to see that Andie lived in a one-room studio apartment about the size of his closet. She tried to act as if it didn’t bother her, but he knew it did. She’d stood, nervously, for several moments unsure of what to do or say and he wasn’t sure how to make her feel more at ease. He simply hid his reaction to her living conditions, but he had to admit, he was a little taken aback. This was unexpected. A lone, twin mattress was lying directly on the floor, neatly made with a cheap comforter. Her kitchen table was a cardboard box with a piece of unfinished material covering it as a makeshift tablecloth. A plastic vase with one fake flower graced the top of the table. One lonely chair sat next to the cardboard table. There was a CD player plugged in next to the bed, her only source of entertainment. Her closet door was ajar and he peeked in to see about twenty items on hangers, two pairs of shoes and a suitcase. That’s it.

Her only luxury, it would appear, was the laptop computer sitting on her cardboard table. It was just barely closed, as if she’d hastily put it down. It was still on, the light creeping out from the edges. He nonchalantly lifted it up to take a peek. The screen boasted a huge picture of himself. Startled, he closed it quickly, feeling like a voyeur. She was about to marry him, it made sense for her to have a picture of him. He’d wonder about her if she hadn’t done a little research on him before agreeing to marry him, after all. Still, it made him wonder what she was thinking about as she looked upon his picture.

So she lived frugally. Wasn’t that to be commended? It was just that, this wasn’t just frugal. This was ‘times are tough.’ Really tough. A pile of books lined the kitchen counter, all plastic covered and stamped with the name of the local library. Curious, he peeked into her kitchen cupboards. There was one jar of peanut butter, a box of crackers, and a loaf of bread. The rest were bare. The refrigerator held a jar of jelly and a gallon of milk. The counter held one bunch of bananas, some paper plates, cups, and napkins. There was nothing in the freezer.

This gave him pause. It bothered him more than he cared to admit. He’d be sure and get a to-go box tonight and accidently leave it with her. He hated the thought of someone going hungry. No wonder she’d been willing to wait so long for her interview. It would appear that she was a bit down on her luck. Feeling disturbed, he sat down on her one chair so she wouldn’t catch him looking through her cupboards. The apartment was quite drab, but she managed to keep it clean and tidy. Everything was neatly in its place, no clothes all over the floor, or crumbs on the countertops. He wondered what brought her to this point in life. But when Andie walked out, all conscious thought escaped him. She was wearing a simple skirt and sweater that fit her perfectly. He was sure he’d never seen anyone as beautiful as her in his life. Her long dark hair hung halfway down her back luxuriously and those eyes…

“I’m ready,” was all she said and he thought,
so am I, my dear, so am I.

The drive to the restaurant was silent. Zach drove a big, black SUV, which surprised Andie. She’d expected to be placed in a small, sleek, mid-life crisis sports car. He took her to a restaurant overlooking a river in downtown Portland. It was quiet and elegant and they were seated at a secluded table. At first it was uncomfortable, and they were both obviously ill at ease. They ordered their food and silence hung over them.

“Tell me about yourself, Andie. Do you have family here in Portland?” Zach asked, breaking the silence.

Mr. Impersonal wanted to know a few details of her life? Go figure. “I don’t really have any family left to speak of.”

“Where are your parents?”

“They passed away several years ago.”

“Any siblings?”

“One.”

“Brother or sister.”

“Brother.”

“Where is he?”

“He passed.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.”

He changed the subject. “What made you move here to Portland?”

“A fresh start sounded good.”

“Where are you from?”

“Back east.”

“Whereabouts?”

“New Jersey.”

Zach let out his breath. “I suddenly feel like a dentist, pulling teeth.”

He was right. She wasn’t trying very hard. She didn’t really want to talk about herself and her miserable life. But she owed him some answers.

“I’m sorry. My brother was almost twenty years my senior. I was one of life’s little surprises. Tim, my brother, died of a stroke about seven years ago. He was so young, it was just a fluke and very unexpected. I moved here because Portland is known for its…excellent services. My parents died in a house fire when I was eighteen. The fire never even reached their bedroom. The cause of death was smoke inhalation. I didn’t want to tell you about it because it was eerily similar to what happened to your wife.”

At his look of astonishment, she added, “I read about it on the internet. I looked you up. I could hardly marry you without knowing a little bit about you, could I?” Her words were curt and she knew it. She needed to shake off her nerves. Zach’s face hardened and she figured she’d just ruined any chances of friendship with him. This would never work anyway. What were they thinking?

The waiter brought their plates then, thankfully interrupting the awkward moment.

After an interminable silence, Zach said, “I’m sorry, Andie. How about if we both just relax a little and stop trying so hard? I realize this situation is rather…unorthodox.”

He smiled that darned captivating smile of his. She smiled back at him, finally letting herself go.
Be happy for a night, Andie.
“This is so ridiculously awkward,” she said.

“That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile. Cute dimples. I didn’t know you had them.” He cleared his throat. “Tell you what, let’s just let things happen naturally.” He gave her a stern look and wagged his finger at her. “Stop thinking about consummating our marriage.”

Incredulous, she burst out laughing. He joined her until they had tears rolling down their faces and waiters looking at them strangely.

That broke the ice.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

The tears were laughter produced and he knew it. “I never cry. I guess that’s something you should know about me.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. I never cry.”

“I don’t think that’s healthy. All women cry. It’s part of your nature.”

“Not me.” If she started to cry, she’d probably never stop.

Zach let it go. From then on, they lightly flitted from one subject to another, learning more and more about each other. They were getting
personal
without truly delving very deep. While he never commented on his wife’s death, he did comment on his parents’ death.

“I lost my parents also. They were on holiday in the Far East and were killed in a car accident. I was only fifteen at the time and an only child. My grandparents raised me from then on. They had a perfect marriage and perhaps gave me a somewhat idealized concept of matrimony. I want that or nothing. Guess that’s why I’m paying someone to be my wife.” He grimaced. “I’ve been groomed to take over Drake Enterprises since I was a toddler. It was always a given. Oddly enough, it’s what I love.”

“My husband died in a car accident,” Andie stated quietly, not really wanting to tell him the whole story.

“I was wondering about that. I’m sorry.”

She noticed he still didn’t comment on his wife’s death. Like everything else
really
personal
in their lives, perhaps it was a taboo subject. They were simply grazing the surface of their lives.

Zach changed the subject. “Tell me something no one else knows about you,” he prompted. “It will seem odd if I don’t know anything about my fiancé.

Andie contemplated his query. Before the conversation had turned towards lost loved ones, the mood between them had been light and comfortable and she wanted to keep it that way. “I think bread tastes better when it’s cut into triangles. And I hate the crust. I often think about weird things, like, when I go to the movies, which armrest belongs to me? Or why is it that my pizza can be delivered to my house in record time, but it takes the police twice as long to arrive?”

Zach chuckled and then came right back at her with, “I like ice cream on a cold day and hot chocolate on a hot day. It’s somehow satisfying that way. And I often wonder if goldfish are bored. I feel sorry for them, trapped in that little fish bowl, staring at the same thing day in and day out. What do you think they’re thinking about?”