Tempting Fate (21 page)

“Did you receive Cara's card in the mail, yet?” Ruthie said, mentioning her daughter for the first time.

He quickly rummaged through the stack of mail on his desk, tossing each letter aside until he found the thick violet enveloped. “I’m just reading it now.” He tore the seal and pulled the cards--yes there were two, he noticed--and began to read the first.

Happy Birthday, Dev!

It's pay up time!

Love, Cara

Confused, he glimpsed the second card, finding it vaguely familiar, and laughed out loud when he finished reading the back. Lord, it felt great to laugh and actually feel it! “I can't believe she kept this!” A strange feeling tugged at his heart that she’d kept a keepsake of him.

“Well, you know, Devin, she always had a thing for you,” Ruthie said as if it was a known fact among them all.

“How is she doing?”

“Fine.”

He paused a second, a tinge of disappointment settling in his gut with her lack of elaboration.

“Good.”

There was a slight pause before she continued. “She's staying at home until Labor Day, helping her father and me with the move and all. We're having a bit of a bash for her thirty-fifth birthday. We'd love to have you. Are you
available
?”

The inflection in her voice rose as to emphasize her double meaning. Same ol' Ruthie.

It wasn't until faced with the possibility of seeing Cara again that Devin realized he'd give anything to see her. He punched up his schedule on the computer and immediately groaned at entries flooding each and every day for the next month. “Things don't look good, Ruthie. I'm not sure I can get away.”

“Oh, but...what about the wedding?” she gasped.

“Who's wedding?”

“Why...yours and Cara's, of course. You did read the card, didn't you?”

“Yes, but...” Puzzled by her query, Devin picked up the card again and turned it over in case he’d missed some important piece of information. The search proved futile.

“Cara will be thirty-five next week.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Well, then you know what that means, don’t you?”

He was silent.

“Do you or don't you intend to honor that contract, young man.”

A grin tugged at his lips. Although Ruthie's voice held a hint of amusement, he sensed her taking this line of offense immensely serious.

Knowing in advance how Ruthie Cavarlho operated, he proceeded with caution. “Ruthie, it’s not really a contract.”

“It’s in black and white.”

“Yes, but…it’s bogus. There was no serious intention of marriage by either of us, no meeting of the minds. No-”

“Devin, dear, don’t talk to me in legal mumbo jumbo. I don’t understand a word of it.”

“It was a joke. It’s not legal.”

“Not legal,” Ruthie grunted.

There was silence on the other end of the line for a few seconds. Devin picked up the ball point pen he'd strangled earlier and started tapping in his desk to fill in the void.

“Would Cara know this?” Ruthie finally asked.

“Well, I-”

“I'll bet she doesn't,” she proclaimed, an undertone of hope resonating in her words. He could almost hear the wheels in her head spinning triumphantly when she declared, “What she doesn't know won't hurt her.”

A grin tugged at his lips. “Ruthie, what are you up to?”

“Nothing. I’m merely planning a birthday party for my single daughter, and I would love for you to attend. Is there anything wrong with that?”

“Of course not.”

“And once you're here, if things should happen to, how shall we say, fall into place, then so be it.”

He had to laugh. It surprised him how good it felt inside. He'd always been a sucker for Ruthie’s charm and seventeen years of passing time had made no difference.

“Devin Michaels, you know how fond I am of you. I've never made any bones about that,” she admitted warmly. “And all these years I have been praying my daughter would someday find a nice man just like you. So why can’t it
be
you? I know you care for Cara.”

He couldn’t deny that. But it had never been the way Ruthie had always wanted. What he and Cara had shared was friendship, nothing more. His whole world with Cara felt like a lifetime ago. And at the same time, their friendship was so close to his heart he could almost touch it.

His heart pounded in his chest and he rubbed the spot that squeezed tight. “I'll see what I can do,” he conceded, his smile fading. “But I can't make any promises.”

“Be sure to bring your tuxedo.”

He heard the phone click just as Brenda paged him again. “They're waiting for you in the conference room.”

He cradled the phone in his palm wondering what the hell had just happened? He couldn’t quite get a grip on the flood of emotions coursing through him. Dropping the phone, he fingered the pink slip on his desk with Ruthie Cavarlho's name scribbled on it for a good long time.

He wanted to see Cara. More than he could even think right now. There was a time when the very first person—the only person—he'd seek out was Cara. She'd certainly seen him through the worst times in his life. And some of the best.

This was it, he realized. Going back to Westport to reconnect with his best friend was the medicine he needed help him get his life back on track.

Devin pressed the intercom button on the panel, suddenly feeling good for the first time in days. “Cancel,” he said briskly, the rush of excitement from this morning’s victorious court appearance long forgotten. The excitement of a new battle took its place.

“I...I beg your pardon.”

“I said cancel! Make some excuse, I don't care what it is.” Rubbing his face with his hand, he drew in a long breath. He couldn't believe he was actually considering something so foolish, so destructive, putting everything he'd work so hard for on the line.

All he had to do was make a few calls and he could catch the next flight. In a matter of hours he'd be standing face to face with Cara. Something inside him clicked, as if everything that was laid out before him no longer held any meaning. He knew what he had to do.

“Cancel the rest of the day, too. In fact, cancel the month. I'm taking a leave of absence starting now.”

He heard Brenda’s slight gasp. “Mr. Michaels, I don't understand-”

“Just do it! And Brenda, get me my realtor--” His voice broke off, “No, never mind. I'll take care of that myself.”

He leaned back in his chair and swung the seat around. Rubbing his chin between his thumb and index finger, he stared vacantly at the Manhattan skyline. The city he'd sought out in his youth, that drove him with every beat of his heart, had lost its magic with a single phone call. The unsettled feeling that had plagued him for the past few months suddenly lifted and he could finally breathe again. He was taking a new direction, and it felt great.

Hearing the buzz from Brenda again, he swung around and saw the light panel on his phone lit up like a Christmas tree. The grapevine in this office was as fast as a New York cabby racing from one green light to the next. He could almost hear the whispering vultures strategically planning his downfall outside his office door, starting with the moment he walked through it. And suddenly he didn’t give a damn what they did.

Brenda sounded again with a repeated buzz that spoke of urgency. If he didn't make a quick getaway soon, the senior partners were sure to barrel through the doors of his office in full justifiable protest.

* * *

Cara smiled regally at the many people inspecting the odds and ends she and her family had accumulated her entire life and had displayed on their front lawn for purchase. She was annoyed, to say the least, at their perusal. This was her life they were scrutinizing!

When had she gotten so sentimental? Sure, her parents were moving away, selling the home she loved so much. But she'd left home long ago. Maybe it was just her time of the month. No, that would mean she had perpetual PMS for feeling the way she did. Who could possibly endure that?

Or maybe...it was because Roger, the man she'd been dating for the past year and a half, had become a fixture she wasn’t sure she wanted to keep in her life. She'd been a success in business, lived on her own in her Back Bay condo for the past few years. But this thirty-five thing was beginning to hit home.

She pushed the thought away, refusing to believe that her internal clock was waging war, and she was losing the battle.

“Is this real crystal?” a young woman—still a girl really—asked, holding the carafe Cara had given her mother as a birthday gift when she was fifteen. Her other arm was wrapped tightly around the waist of a young man. Amorous glances and giggles reflected the youth of their love. She wondered if they were newly married, filling their home with items they would someday put up for sale on their front lawn.

“Yes,” she replied shortly, watching the young man knock over a vase. He had a familiar stand. It took her a moment, but she realized that he reminded her of a young Devin Michaels.

Funny. Ever since she found that damned birthday card, her mind wandered until it settled on Devin Michaels.

“We’ll take it,” the young man said, smiling affectionately at the girl. After digging through his wallet, he handed her the amount indicated on the little white tag Cara had so carefully placed on the bottle the previous evening. With their hands entwined, the young couple walked away.

That's when she thought she caught a glimpse of him.
Devin Michaels.
She stood on the far side of the lawn, squinting from the sun’s harsh rays to focus on the man strolling through the open white picket gate. A dozen or so people had stopped and parked along the side of the road and were now leisurely waltzing across her parents lawn.

The man could just as easily be someone who lived along the beach, just out for a stroll. She’d lived away from home so long that she’d lost touch with the comings and goings of neighbors. It couldn't possibly be Devin just because her mind suddenly wanted it to be. But as he ambled closer, she knew without a doubt it was Devin.

A glimmer of recognition registered on his face when their eyes met, and his mouth tilted to reveal a perfect smile. Her breath lodged in her throat, and she couldn’t keep from feeling giddy. Nibbling on her bottom lip, she fought to compose herself.

The years had been good to him. The lanky boy he once was had filled out in all the right places. The man sauntering toward her now had wide shoulders and ripples along his chest, clearly visible beneath his polo shirt, a telltale sign that he spent time working out regularly. His charcoal eyes had deepened in color, giving off a masculine power of attraction that seared straight through her. It wasn't the Devin Michaels that she remembered from her youth, the shy but funny friend she'd teased so often. He was a man now. Powerful, stunning in movement and frightening with his dynamic presence all at the same time.

But he was still Devin Michaels, her childhood buddy.

“Devin,” she said, catching her breath when he was finally standing before her. She looked up and noticed the inches he'd grown taller. He was now at least six inches taller than her five foot seven inch frame.

“Hello, mia Cara.” The words of endearment rolled off his tongue with ease, sounding as soothing as the ocean that lulled her to sleep at night. My dear one was the meaning. Her grandmother had referred to her that way on countless occasions in her youth, which Devin had teased her about when he'd been privy to hear. But this time, the pure emotion with which he spoke the simple words cascaded over her like the incoming tide.

# # #

Chapter Two

Cara knew the face. She knew the name. But, for sure, she did not know this man standing in front of her. Brushing her sweaty palms on the sides of her jeans, she turned away from his probing gaze, not believing her eyes. When she turned back and blinked, Devin Michaels was definitely standing in front of her in the flesh.

What was he doing back here after all these years?

She opened her mouth to speak, but the words somehow got lodged in her throat.

His deep rumbling chuckle made her glance up at him.

“What's so funny?”

Devin shook his head slightly and kept his eyes focused on her. “Nothing,” he said.

She knew he was lying. This time he was teasing her for actually blushing when she'd always been the one to tease him. She also saw that hidden beneath that scrupulously constructed veneer he held up like a shield, allowing the world only to glimpse the dynamic man that he'd become, he was the same Devin she remembered.

Excitement took hold of her and she couldn't help but laugh herself. “I can't believe you're really here.”

“Me, too.”

He brushed his hand over his head, passed the flecks of gray peppering the dark hair at his temples, until his hand settled at the nape of his neck. He'd gotten older. So had she. They weren't teenagers anymore like they were the last time they'd seen each other.

She’d thought about him often over the years, meant to drop him a card or a phone call, but then got buried in whatever crisis needed her attention at the time. In the past few days, he’d been on her mind constantly. But until now, until he was actually in front of her, she hadn’t realized just how much she truly missed having him in her life.

Part of her had the most incredible urge to run to Devin and give him a great big bear hug. But she kept her distance with the table of salable trinkets wedged between them.

“It's good to see you, Dev.”

“You, too.” His dark eyes twinkled ever so slightly as to lift his shield an inch or two, giving her access to her old friend. He was still there. The same old Devin she'd know.

He opened his arms wide. “Come here. This one is way overdue.”

A few quick strides around the table and he was by her side and then into his arms. His embrace filled her with tender feelings that brought her back in time, oddly comforting and unfamiliar at the same time. Cara ignored her foreign feelings and sank into his hard chest, reveling in the warmth his touch gave her. Cara forced a deep breath of salted sea air passed the lump forming in her throat.

She'd lingered in Devin's arms longer than what suddenly felt appropriate and she pulled away, awkwardness taking over the initial excitement of seeing him.