Temporary Fiancée (21 page)

A bonded messenger handed him a clipboard and pointed to a line, “Sign here, sir.”

After the obligatory signature, the messenger placed an envelope and a small round box wrapped in brown paper in his hand and left.

Rand’s name was on the envelope. He recognized Haley’s handwriting, and his heart began a leaden drumbeat. He retraced his steps to his office, staring at the rounded letters of his name. Distractedly he noted his hand was shaking. Haley had written to him, and he knew it wasn’t to tell him all was forgiven.

He placed the envelope and the package in the center of his desk, sat in his large leather chair and stared at them as if they contained a bomb threat.

Finally, he shrugged and reached for the package. Tearing off the brown wrapping, he recognized the ring box and felt as if he’d been sucker punched. He opened the box and there was his grandmother’s ring. The one Haley had worn to convince the Blakelys she really was his new fiancée. The ring he now wanted her to wear permanently. And it struck him again with the force of a jackhammer, how much he loved her and wanted to marry her.

His hand slid across the desk to the envelope.

Dear Rand,

Thank you for the flowers. They were very beautiful. I sent them on to a nursing home, where I’m certain they will be appreciated. As for your note, I am working on forgiving you. By now, I’m sure you realize that I didn’t betray you to the media, and you probably feel badly about accusing me. However, I am asking you not to contact me again. Only an idiot keeps banging her head against a wall, expecting different results. I need to
get on with my life, and I don’t want you in it. I’m sorry if this sounds harsh, but trust is much more important in a relationship than great sex. I realize that we met at the wrong time. Although you believe you are over Angela, you aren’t over the hurt and suspicion, and I am not strong enough to be caught in the fallout a second or third time. Please don’t call, write or send any more gifts.

I wish you the best.

Haley

He reread the note, stunned and terrified at the coldness and the finality of her rejection. If it hadn’t been for the handwriting, he’d believe someone else had written it. His Haley wasn’t this hard, this unforgiving. His Haley would have offered him some hope. The reality finally sunk in. She had no intention of being his Haley. He dropped his head into his hands and fought the despair that threatened to have him howling like a lunatic or sobbing like a child. He’d lost her.

In fact, he’d thrown her away.

The pain of it had him reeling. He needed to talk to her.

He glanced down at the last line of the note.
Don’t call, write or send any more gifts.
Despair gave way to anger. She wasn’t going to get away with this prissy little note. She could damn well tell him to his face to get out of her life.

He dialed her number.

Three days later, he still hadn’t talked to her. She returned the flowers he sent each day without any acknowledgement. Her friends were in a conspiracy against him and refused to tell him where she was. In fact, Terry Engles threatened to file harassment charges if he didn’t stop calling the agency.

“There are stalking laws, man. You’d better get a grip. Haley doesn’t want to see you or talk to you. How much plainer can it get?”

“I want her to tell me that,” Rand said stubbornly. “I want her to look me in the eye and tell me to get lost. Then maybe I can get on with my own life.”

“You poor bastard,” Terry commiserated. “I’m not sure which of you is more miserable.”

“Is she miserable?” Rand hated the pathetic note of hope in his voice.

“Well, she isn’t happy. But I did promise her I’d tell you to stop trying to get in touch. So consider yourself told.”

“Where is she, Engles? She’s not at her apartment. I’ve camped over there for nearly three days. She’s not at Phyllis’ house, and she’s not been in to work.”

“I can’t help you. But I’m beginning to think maybe you’re not the complete butthead everyone’s been calling you. What exactly are your plans if you do see her?”

“I love her,” Rand said simply. “I want to marry her.”

Terry sighed. “Good luck, then.” He hung up with Rand being no closer to discovering Haley’s whereabouts.

Every day he’d called his sister to report his progress. She was encouraging if non-committal. After his call to the WorkForce Agency, he dialed Elizabeth’s number.

Carrie answered the phone. “Hello, Uncle Rand. Guess what?”

“What?” He grinned at the bubbling excitement in his niece’s voice.

“Haley’s going to be on television today and me and Mommy are going to take her.”

He felt the recoil in his body. “Is Haley at your house?”

“Not now. She went to get her hair done.” Carrie giggled. “She has wild hair.”

“Is your mommy there? I need to talk to her.”

“She’s outside. I’ll go get her.”

Rand could barely control his fury. The whole time he was chasing down leads on Haley’s whereabouts, Elizabeth had been giving him the runaround. By the time his sister picked up the phone, Rand had worked his anger up to full throttle.

“Hello, Rand.” Elizabeth sounded hesitant.

“I hear you have a big day planned,” he said sarcastically.

She sighed. “Carrie told you, didn’t she?”

“I’m wondering why my own sister didn’t tell me. I called you every day. You knew I was desperate to talk to her. Has she been with you the whole time?”

“Yes. She was feeling hounded. I told you to back off, but you don’t take advice from anyone.”

“I just want to talk to her. Is that too much to ask?”

“At this time, I think it is. She is so miserable, that if you talk to her before she’s ready, it will only make things worse. I love you both, but of the two of you, Haley is the most vulnerable right now. I don’t feel one bit guilty for not telling you she was here.”

But she did. Rand could hear it in her voice, and he decided to capitalize on it. “It’s okay, Sis. I don’t want to make Haley feel worse than she already does...” He paused, waiting.

“Oh, Rand, she’s so sad and depressed. She didn’t tell me what happened. She just keeps saying it didn’t work out between the two of you. If she were getting over it, I’d tell you to leave her alone. This should be a great time for her, especially since she won the money and everything, but she never smiles anymore, and I heard her crying last night after she went to bed.”

The hollow spot in Rand’s stomach began to ache. He couldn’t bear the thought that the woman he loved was crying herself to sleep at night because he had been such a fool.

“Elizabeth, I promise you. I will make it up to Haley. I love her. I want to marry her. I was a jerk—worse than a jerk, and I need to apologize. I’ll do anything, except stay away from her.”

“I don’t want her to think I let her down.”

“She won’t. I promise. Just tell me where she’s going to be this afternoon. I’ll just show up. If she tells me to my face, she never wants to see me again, I’ll respect her wishes.”

Elizabeth sighed. “All right. She’s going to be on the ‘Our Town’ program this afternoon at three-thirty.”

Rand smiled. The local television station had called him several times for an interview and he’d always turned them down. “Is it because of the Pillsbury thing?”

“Yes. Haley’s excited because she wants the word to get out that she’s opening her own catering business.”

“Okay, Sis. I’ll take it from here. Don’t tell her you talked with me.”

“Rand, you promise that if she tells you to get lost, you will?”

“I promise.” He hung up and immediately dialed the Channel 11 station.

****

Haley made a face at her reflection in the mirror. Her new red suit made her appear more confident than she felt. Skillful application of make-up hid the circles under her eyes, and for once her hair was behaving, curving in a sleek bob just below her jaw. She tried a halfhearted smile and then gave it up. It looked too phony. For the hundredth time she damned Rand for taking the joy out of this moment for her. She should be walking in the clouds. Instead she was miserable and making everyone around her miserable.

Elizabeth had warned her she looked as if she were attending a funeral rather than a celebration of her good fortune. She promised to perk up during the interview. When she arrived at the station, she’d briefly met Shauna Crossly, the “Our Town” interviewer, who told her she’d be sharing the half hour with another local celebrity. Haley felt the butterflies begin when the production manager directed her to where she’d be sitting and pointed out the camera setup.

“All you have to do, Haley, is to look at Shauna when you speak. We’ll do the rest. We usually only have one interview per show, but this other guest finally agreed to be on the show, and it had to be today. Shauna will bring him out in a few minutes.”

Haley nodded, not at all sorry to be sharing the hot seat with someone else. “Who is the other guest?” she asked.

The producer shrugged. “A local entrepreneur. We’ve been trying to get him for over a year, and today he calls and says he’ll do the show, just like that. Go figure.”

Haley began to get a really bad feeling. “Ah…what’s his name?”

“Andrew McNeil. The computer guy. Have you ever met him?”

Haley sat in stunned disbelief. In a few minutes Rand McNeil was going to be sitting next to her in front of thousands of people, and she was supposed to be witty and articulate. She doubted she’d even be coherent. She couldn’t do it. Desperately she looked around for an escape route. She was just rising to her feet, when Shauna came on the set followed by Rand. Shauna waved her back into her seat and indicated that Rand should sit next to her.

“We’re on in two minutes.” The attractive host of the show smiled at both of them. “First I’ll talk to Haley, and then we’ll switch the interview to Rand. Haley, be sure to mention the name of your new catering business. I’m going to ask you some questions about the contest, and then we’ll flash the winning recipe up on the screen so you can talk us through it.”

Nearly paralyzed by Rand’s appearance, Haley was sure she wouldn’t be able to speak a single word. Rand had given her a swift grin before he sat down and now seemed to be concentrating on Shauna’s instructions. His arm rested casually on the back of her chair, perilously close to her face. He was dressed in a dark, obviously expensive, business suit and looked incredibly handsome and relaxed. She had two minutes to plan how to kill him. It was no accident that they were appearing on the same show.

She was about to utter a protest when the camera swung toward her, and the musical introduction to the program began. From a distance, she heard the announcer say, “Today on ‘Our Town’, Shauna Crossley will be speaking with Haley Marchand, winner of the national Pillsbury recipe contest. As an additional guest, we also have Andrew McNeil, owner of Microtec, who will discuss the impact the merger of his company with another computer giant will have on the local economy.”

The small studio audience applauded, and Haley forced herself to smile for the camera as the interview began. She was just beginning to relax under Shauna’s skillful questioning, when Rand suddenly straightened in his chair and seemed to accidentally brush his hand across the top of her thigh. She lost all train of thought and turned sideways to glare at him. “Keep your hands to yourself.”

He managed to look guilty and mouthed the word, “Sorry.”

Shauna looked back and forth between them speculatively. Finally, with a slight grin, she abandoned the questions she was asking Haley and turned toward Rand. “Mr. McNeil, would you mind telling our audience why you decided to come on the show today after refusing several requests for an interview.”

Rand suddenly looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Slowly his face turned red.
Good,
Haley thought.
Let’s see him try to get out of this one without looking like a fool.

“Well, I…that is…” Rand stammered, obviously unprepared for the question.

Suddenly, Shauna faced Haley. “Miss Marchand, do you have any idea why Mr. McNeil consented to do the show today?”

And it was her turn to stutter. “N-no…Why should I? I don’t even know him.” It was foolish to lie, and she realized it as soon as the words left her mouth.

Rand turned to her with an angry wave of his hand. “That’s a bunch of crap. You do know me.” He paused and then said, softly, but certainly loud enough for the microphone to pick up, “We were engaged.”

Of all the nerve! Haley scowled at him. “We were not engaged. It was fake. A pretend engagement.” She didn’t bother to lower her voice. If he wanted to play hardball, she’d play. He was the one with control issues. Let him make a fool of himself in front of the entire city of Boise.

The interviewer broke in. “Then you do know each other.” Both Rand and Haley turned toward her.

“I barely know him,” Haley said coolly.

“You knew me well enough to sleep with me,” Rand stated baldly, then winced as the audience gasped, and a broad smile broke across Shauna Crossly’s face.

Anger vibrated through Haley like a buzz saw. How dare he broadcast the details of their relationship on daytime television. “Excuse me, Mr. McNeil…”

Her tone was so nasty that Rand looked apprehensive. “Yes?”

“Unless you want to face a slander suit, I suggest you retract your last statement. Not only did we not sleep together, but did you or did you not recently receive treatment for impotence?”

The audience began to chortle as Rand embarked on a vigorous protest. “That wasn’t treatment and you know it. That voodoo friend of yours totally misunderstood what I said.”

“Just answer the question, please.”

Rand glared at her. “Who do you think you are, Judge Judy? I will not answer that question which you know was out of line.”

“And I suppose your comments were perfectly appropriate.”

Rand’s shoulders sagged, and he ran a hand through his hair. “No, they weren’t appropriate.” He looked directly into her eyes. “I’m sorry, Haley. I came to apologize and beg your forgiveness, and instead I’ve ruined your reputation—on television, no less.”