Punchline (11 page)

Mira nodded in appreciation as she regarded the display. Greg stared at it irritably. In Elva’s clenched teeth and narrowed eyes, Darryl saw a fury that matched his own.

Sandra explained her theme in a breathless voice. The woman managed to lend an air of careless worldliness to everything she did, and today she was at her best.

Darryl’s spirits plummeted. He couldn’t believe they might lose.

“This is fascinating,” said Mira, which was more encouragement than she’d given
About Town.

Belle chewed on her lower lip. If she had won fair and square, she should be beaming. To Darryl’s critical gaze, she appeared downright guilty.

Elva must have noticed the same thing. “They cheated,” she whispered in Darryl’s ear. “I don’t know how they did it, but they’ve been snooping. Well, they can’t get away with this.”

“Wait a minute,” He wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that. “What are you planning to—?”

From her briefcase, Elva whipped a preliminary printout of the March issue, including the cover, and announced in her loudest voice, “Ms. Lemos, we’re going to be generating a lot of controversy with our March issue and we think the High Desert Megamall should take advantage of it, since it dovetails with our theme. Here’s an advance look at what I’m talking about.”

As Mira accepted the pages, Sandra peeked over her shoulder. “’The Natural Superiority of Men As Parents,’ “she read, all wide-eyed innocence. “Oh, how interesting! Can men get pregnant now?”

“May I have a look at that?” asked Belle as the marketing director finished scanning the printout.

Darryl’s instincts screamed to yank the pages from Mira’s hands and flee, but he couldn’t do that. This was business.

Besides, Belle would find out sooner or later. He’d simply been hoping it would be later.

Mira, Sandra and Elva filled the air with chatter that might have been in Swahili for all Darryl cared. His attention was riveted on Belle.

As she read the feature article, her face went white. He wondered which part offended her most, the fact that he’d lied to her or the sheer effrontery of his theme, and then realized that it made no difference.

While writing it, he had been absorbed with the idea of doing justice to Jim and the other fathers. He had assumed that Belle would understand the need for exaggeration, as well as the inclusion of a few humorous details about her morning sickness and weight gain.

Observing her shocked expression, he suddenly viewed the article from a different perspective. He had moved into Belle’s condo on false pretenses and spied on her most intimate behavior, then subjected her to public ridicule.
Even though he hadn’t named her, plenty of people would guess the truth.

A deep and unfamiliar sensation called shame spread through Darryl’s gut. He had hurt Belle and betrayed her confidence. At that moment, he would have given anything to go back in time and reverse his own actions.

She said nothing. The silence, so unlike Belle, was disturbing.

“I do find your magazine interesting, as well as both your presentations.” Mira studied both sets of poster-size drawings. “I have to admit, there are elements in each that appeal to me.”

“But ours is the superior one, wouldn’t you agree?” said Sandra.

Mira didn’t take the bait. “I had given some thought to linking up with a bridal magazine. You know the one,
Flowers and Lace?”

A
chorus of indrawn breaths and murmurs of “Not that!” greeted this painful revelation.

“But it is rather limiting,” the promotions director went on. “I’d like for your two magazines to get together on this. One appeals mostly to men, the other to women. I’d like to see a unified theme. Be sure to keep the wedding scene as a climax.”

“We couldn’t possibly work together!” It was the first remark Belle had made since seeing the article.

Her publisher favored the room with a vague smile, as if her editor must have been joking. “If we agree to do that, can we count on your approval?” she asked Mira. “We’ve already put in quite a few hours. We couldn’t possibly do any more work on speculation.”

The woman was smarter than Darryl had given her credit for. While the rest of them stood around like stunned cattle, Sandra was closing the deal.

Mira surveyed the posters. “Yes, all right. You both agree?”

“Sure.” Darryl wasn’t sure where the voice came from, but it sounded like his.

“Absolutely,” said Sandra.

Belle stood motionless. He needed to talk with her, so he caught her arm and led her out of the conference room before she could protest.

B
ELLE SAID NOTHING
all the way down in the elevator. It wasn’t until they approached his car that she spoke.

“I’m not riding with you.”

Darryl held the door open. “Would you rather have this conversation now or later?”

After a moment’s hesitation, she got in the car. She still didn’t meet his gaze.

He decided she might feel better if he left the first move to her. They had a two-hour drive, which would give her time to collect herself before broaching the subject.

They were approaching the exit to the parking lot when she said, “You can move out this afternoon or tonight, whichever you prefer.”

She couldn’t mean it. “Why don’t we wait until you calm down before we make any decisions?”

“I am calm, regardless of what you may think of my hormonal state,” growled Belle. “You moved in to research your article. You’ve done that. Boy, have you done that! I would never have treated you that way, never!’“

Her eyes glittered suspiciously. It hurt him to realize she was on the verge of tears. The damn article wasn’t worth it.

“I just wasn’t thinking,” he said. “My focus was on fathers who’ve been deprived of their children.”

“You said you were writing an article sympathetic to women,” Belle said grimly.

“I’m sorry.” It sounded inadequate, but Darryl meant it. “Things have changed between us this past week. It was too late to stop the article. Surely you can give me a second chance.”

“No,” she said.

“No? That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“What about the nursery?” He knew it wasn’t a key point, but he couldn’t think of anything else. “I was going to put up wallpaper.”

“I’ll do it myself.”

“You’re too short. It will snap down and roll you into a ball and they’ll find you three days later in convulsions from sugar withdrawal.” The freeway must be around here somewhere, but was it to the left or the right?

“If you don’t move out, I’ll change the locks and you can claim your belongings at the Lost and Found,” she snapped. “Or maybe the animal shelter.”

He took a blind guess and turned left. “Belle, I know I invaded your privacy, and I’m sorry. I was beginning to think maybe the two of us had a future together. I still think so, if you’ll only be reasonable.”

“Reasonable?” she said. “How can I be? Everybody who read your article knows that pregnant women make mountains out of molehills. We’re a seething mass of hysteria.”

“I didn’t mean to make fun of you.” Gratefully, he noticed a freeway sign ahead. “I’m sorry this turned out so badly. Let’s at least agree to stay friends, for our baby’s sake.”

She shook her head tightly. “I can manage alone, thank you.”

Her words sent a chill through him. “I’m not going to fade into the sunset. I love that kid, Belle. You can’t throw me out of his life.”

“Can’t I?” she retorted. “You’ve been playing at fatherhood. To you, this is all one big political point to make in your magazine.” Tears spilled over, but she ignored them. “You have no right to this child, Darryl Horak. I’m taking full responsibility.”

He felt as if someone had knocked the wind out of him. In his sympathy for Jim and the fathers’ group, Darryl had never imagined that he might find himself shut out of his child’s life. “Whether you like it or not, this is my baby, too,” he said. “If you won’t share, I’m suing for custody.”

The moment the words flew out, he regretted them. Yet how could he back off? He couldn’t force Belle to forgive him, but he wouldn’t allow her to deprive their child of a father.

Her jaw dropped. When she clamped it shut an instant later, there was a steely determination in her jawline that he hadn’t seen before.

He’d gone too far, Darryl realized. He didn’t intend to take the child away. He just wanted to stay close.

“We can work this out,” he said. “Belle? Talk to me.”

She pulled a tissue from her purse and blew her nose, but there were no more words all the way to Los Angeles.

As they exited the freeway, Darryl said, “Let’s go home and talk. We shouldn’t leave things up in the air.”

“I have work to do.” The statement came out low and tense.

“This is more important.”

“Are you kidnapping me?”

“Of course not.” Arguing was useless while she remained in this mood, Darryl decided, and reluctantly dropped her at her office.

B
ELLE HARDLY NOTICED
the happy buzz of conversation as the rest of the staff celebrated their cosponsorship of
the megamall. Having to share it with
About Town
was only a minor liability, in everyone’s opinion except hers.

How could she concentrate on her work, knowing Darryl was plotting to take the baby away? Okay, she conceded silently, maybe he wasn’t actually plotting, but there was no way to be sure.

She’d trusted him when he’d moved into her condo, and all along he’d been using her. The thought of how intimate they’d become hurt deeply. The scent of him lingered on her clothing, and several times she thought she heard his voice calling her before she remembered that she was at work.

What if he really did sue for custody? With that article about deprived fathers stirring up public sympathy, he might even win.

She needed to get public opinion on her side. Was it possible Channel 17 might take an interest in reviving the scandal about the drugged punch?

An unintended pregnancy, a rivalry that was exploding

into a custody battle Belle hated to think about the

invasion of her privacy. But hadn’t Darryl gone public by writing his article?

An ache swelled inside at the memory of how he’d looked on New Year’s Day when they’d awakened together. And how much fun they’d had browsing through malls, and how they’d discovered this past week that they both enjoyed archeology programs on cable TV. She had actually begun to believe that the two of them might belong together.

But love had to be based on trust. How could he have made love to her, and pretended to care about her, when all the while he was simply researching an article at her expense?

Biting back tears, Belle picked up the phone.

A
S HE DROVE HOME
that night, Darryl braced himself to make further apologies. Surely her anger would have grown cold by now.

His confidence faded, however, as he noticed his suitcase sitting on Belle’s porch. Even before he tried to fit his key into the lock, an instinct told him it wouldn’t fit.

It didn’t.

Worst of all was the note. It said: “D. Watch the Channel 17 News at ten o’clock.”

He didn’t want to face this alone, so as soon as he got home, he invited Greg over to watch with him. They fixed themselves a snack and sat down to watch the news. “I hope they put the sports on first,”Greg said.

“I hope we have a massive power failure,” said Darryl.

They got neither. Right after the headline stories, the anchorman and anchorwoman reminded viewers about last September’s tale of spiked punch and the speculation concerning the two rival editors.

“Kate Munro has an update for us,” said the anchorwoman. “Kate?”

The face of the reporter dominated the screen. “I’m here at the offices of
Just Us
magazine with Belle Martens. She has quite an announcement for us. Belle?”

The camera pulled back to show a woebegone woman in an old-fashioned sailor dress, her defiant red hair tucked beneath a scarf.

“She looks seduced and abandoned,” said Greg.

That, Darryl gathered, was the idea.

Belle faced the camera. “I’m pregnant. The father is Darryl Horak and it happened after we both drank spiked punch at a party. It was an accident. It wasn’t Darryl’s fault or mine.”

“What made you decide to go public?” Kate asked.

“Darryl Horak is trying to exploit my baby,” she said. “First he moved in with me under the pretext of researching
an article sympathetic to mothers. Instead, he wrote a story attacking motherhood and invading my privacy. Now he’s threatening to sue for custody! All he really cares about are fame and money.”

“That’s me—rich and famous,” Darryl grumbled. What a mess! His hope of reaching a discreet understanding was diminishing with every word she spoke on the air.

And he missed Belle. Even though he knew she had assumed an air of pathos for public-relations purposes, he ached to comfort and reassure her.

“We’ re glad you let us tell your side of the story,” Kate said. “Of course, you understand, we have to give Mr. Horak equal time if he requests it.”

Dismay flashed across Belle’s face. Apparently she hadn’t given much thought to the public battle she might be unleashing.

As the camera cut away, Darryl realized he didn’t have much choice. He couldn’t allow Belle to cut him off from the baby, and he didn’t like being portrayed as a heartless predator.

He didn’t want to attack her, either. He just wanted to make the point that kids needed fathers, too. “I suppose I’ll have to go on the air myself.”

Greg nodded. “Never let a woman get the better of you. You know, I’m really sorry that I ran around on Janie. She’s a special lady. But I can’t let her know that or she’d wipe the floor with me.”

“You ought to apologize,” Darryl said.

“Oh?” asked his friend. “Is that what you’re going to do?”

“More or less,” Darryl answered.

“W
E NEED AN ANGLE,”
Belle told her staff as they sat around the
Just Us
boardroom examining the almost-
finished March edition of the magazine. “This is great, and I like our April theme, but May needs punching up.”

March’s pages had been laser-printed and pasted onto flat boards for final inspection. The key people were there—Tom from traffic, the advertising director, Janie, Anita, Belle and Sandra—all searching for errors.

They were also taking advantage of the meeting to look ahead. This month’s theme, “Forget Thin—Think Healthy!” was a hit with the staff. Work was under way on April’s issue, based on an idea from Janie: “The Future Starts Here! How to Get a Better Job and a Better Love Life!”

But nobody was enthusiastic about May’s proposed theme of “Be Ready for the Greatest Summer Ever!” They needed something snappier, preferably a theme that made women feel good about themselves.

Belle felt as if she’d struck a blow for women when she’d appeared on Channel 17 the previous week. The only problem was that, after the station’s open invitation to Darryl, she kept feeling as if she were waiting for him to respond.

Of course he would try to get back at her, wouldn’t he? She couldn’t help replaying their conversation in the car, when he’d actually apologized. And he’d mentioned something about a future together.

Surely she had misunderstood. Darryl couldn’t really care about her. He couldn’t be feeling the same hollowness every day when he ate breakfast alone, and every evening when he came home to an empty apartment.

“Belle?” asked Janie. “What’s wrong? You’ve hardly said a word.”

“I’m worried about Darryl,” she admitted.

“Horak?” asked Sandra, as if there were any other Darryls in Belle’s life. “I hear he’s going to be on the news again tonight.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “He is?”

“Going to strike another blow for poor helpless fathers, no doubt,” said Anita. “I suppose he has some good points, but—”

“It’s so unfair!” Belle burst out. “I don’t even have a coach for childbirth classes, while he’s going to tell the world what a great dad he is!”

“Childbirth classes?” asked the publisher. “What exactly do they teach you?”

“How to breathe,” Janie explained.

“She already knows how to breathe!” Sandra said. “There, you see, Belle? You don’t need a coach. Rewrite that headline, would you, dear? It’s confusing. Then I think we can let this one go.’’

“Sure.” It was a relief to get back to work.

When Belle returned home at six o’clock, the night air was chilly. Walking from her car to the condo, she found herself listening for familiar masculine footsteps that never came.

Irrationally, she missed Darryl. She wanted him to help cook dinner, to rub her back, to put a CD on the player and then laugh when it turned out to be the wrong one.

As she opened the door, she missed the way his face always lit up when she entered a room. She would never see that look again. The realization left a gray, dismal feeling.

Inside, a faint fragrance lingered. It was a mixture of after-shave lotion, wine and
essence de Darryl.
Maybe an exterminator could get rid of it, she told herself grimly.

As she ate a frozen dinner, she could feel the baby start wiggling. A little foot or an elbow prodded her ribs, then executed a one-two punch that stopped just short of being painful.

That was a small person in there, someone whose genes carried characteristics of Belle’s parents and grandparents. It was a link in a chain that had begun in the mists
of time, connecting her to ancestors she had never thought about before.

The baby was linked to Darryl’s ancestors, too. He would have enjoyed running his hand across her abdomen and feeling the restless movements.

Maybe she was wrong to try to close him out. If only he hadn’t threatened to sue for custody!

A tiny hope was born inside her, that on the news tonight he would tell the world he had no intention of trying to take away this baby. Then maybe they could be friends again.

She really could use his help. After she’d told her parents about the pregnancy a few days ago, Belle had hoped they would offer to stay with her in May when the baby was born.

Instead, her mother had explained that her sister, Bari was expecting a baby in July. After two years of infertility treatments, she’d finally become pregnant again but was having problems.

Bari had to stay in bed until her due date. She needed her parents there to watch four-year-old Mikki, and of course they’d agreed.

Belle wanted everything to turn out well for her sister. She had called Bari immediately afterward to offer best wishes. But she felt awfully far away from her family right now.

The scary part was that when she thought of the word
family,
Darryl came to mind. Well, she would just have to watch and listen to what he had to say.