The Backup Plan (23 page)

Maggie laughed and linked her arm through Dinah's. “We really need to work on your idea of romance. I think it could use just the teensiest bit of tweaking.”

“More than likely,” she admitted.

Maybe her own mother could give her some advice. Dorothy still wasn't home from her hot-and-heavy date the night before. Dinah would have panicked when she'd discovered the empty place at the breakfast table earlier if Maybelle hadn't reported that her mother and father had taken an unexpected trip. Given the gleam in Maybelle's eyes, she was every bit as aware as Dinah was that it was definitely not a sudden business trip.

 

Once Cord had Dinah in the car, which had been no easy task thanks to Maggie's presence when he'd called to arrange things, he bypassed the interstate and headed downtown instead.

“Where are you going?” she asked, regarding him suspiciously. “I thought we were going down to Beaufort, then out to St. Helena Island.”

“We are. I just have to make a stop first. It won't take long.”

She studied him with a frown. “You're up to something. What is it?”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because it doesn't make any sense that you'd make such a big deal about going to have Gullah food, then make a stop along the way. Why didn't you take care of whatever business you have before you picked me up?”

“Because this is on the way,” he said mildly. “Why are you making such a big deal out of adding five minutes to the drive?”

“Because I don't trust you,” she said.

“I thought we were long past the days when you considered me untrustworthy,” he scolded. “Not entirely.”

“Have you always gotten sexually involved with men you don't trust?”

“Never before,” she admitted. “I seem to have made an exception for you and right this second I'm regretting it. Why won't you give me a straight answer?”

Cord laughed. “My answers have been perfectly straightforward. If you're overreacting, it must have something to do with low blood sugar. Don't you have any chocolate in that purse of yours?”

“I ran out. In fact, I ate it the last time you exasperated me.”

“I'll stop at a market so you can stock up,” he offered.

She merely scowled back at him, clearly not placated.

“I still think you're up to something,” she declared.

Cord sighed. She might be right, but he didn't think now was the time to tell her exactly what his intentions were. She was liable to leap from the moving car. It would be a whole lot smarter to get her that chocolate first. Maybe she'd mellow out before they reached his destination.

He pulled into a gas station that had a market. “Sit tight,” he ordered. “I'll be back.”

He returned in less than five minutes and upended a bag filled with candy bars in her lap. “That ought to hold you.”

She tore the wrapper off a Hershey bar and broke off a chunk, then sighed with pleasure.

“Feeling better?” he inquired with undisguised amusement.

“Marginally. Talk to me again when I've finished.”

At least the candy silenced her until he turned into the parking lot of one of Charleston's major television stations. Then she literally froze beside him.

“Why are we here?” she demanded, her voice like ice.

“I need to drop off some papers with the news director. They're putting together a piece on Covington Plantation. Your mother asked me to see that they had whatever they needed.”

“And you need to do this on Saturday?”

“It's for a feature on the Sunday news. That's always a slow news day, right?”

She scowled. “I suppose.”

As it turned out, every word of what he was saying was true. He'd had a chance to speak to Mrs. Davis and get her approval even before he'd called Dinah. Even though he was on the side of the angels on this one, he could see that Dinah wasn't buying it for a second.

Still, he intended to play this out. Maybe he could manage to entice her to walk into the building with him. Maybe not, but he needed to try.

He stepped out of the car and walked around to open her door. “You coming?” he asked, when she didn't budge.

“To help you carry a few pieces of paper inside?” she asked, her tone scathing. “I'm sure you can manage.”

Cord tried another tactic. “It's hot out here. You'll roast if you sit in the car.”

“I'll be fine. You won't be in there more than a couple of minutes, right?”

“Unless the news director has questions,” he agreed. “He might. Then I could be tied up for a lot longer. At least wait for me in the lobby where it's air-conditioned.”

“If you thought it was going to take forever, why did you insist on picking me up?” she asked with evident frustration. “Give me a break, Cord. This is some plot you and my mother hatched to get me to go inside and take a look around. It wouldn't surprise me a bit if you alerted the news director that I would be coming with you.”

He had done exactly that, but even so he kept his expression neutral. “Why would I do that?”

“Because you all think there's something wrong with me not working in my chosen profession. I'm not the first person to get tired of a job.”

“No,” he said agreeably. “But you might be the first person who lived and breathed her job one day, then wanted no part of it the next. I'm not asking you to walk in there with me today and go to work there tomorrow. I'm asking you to come with me, take a look around, say hello to a couple of people with whom you might have a lot in common. That's it.” He shrugged. “If you don't want to do it, that's fine, too. I'll be back out as soon as I wrap up this meeting.”

“I don't want to do it,” she said flatly.

“Okay,” he said, resigned. He'd tried and failed. That didn't mean he wouldn't try again.

“But I will,” she said, surprising him. “Just to prove to you that I'm not a coward.”

Cord leaned down and kissed her hard. “Never thought you were,” he said gently.

“Yes, you did,” she retorted. “But that's okay. I suppose I haven't given you any reason to think otherwise. It's just a building and a few people. No big deal.”

“Exactly.”

Even so, her steps dragged as they got closer to the entrance. Cord realized that she really was terrified to step across the threshold. Maybe he was being a jerk forcing her to do this. There was every chance in the world it could backfire. She could sink right back into that depression that had held her in its grip when she'd first arrived home. Or she could rediscover her love of television news and be on the next plane overseas, rather than seeing the value of the contribution she could make right here.

“Second thoughts?” he asked mildly.

She met his gaze and her chin rose a notch. “No,” she said firmly. “Not a one.” She swallowed hard. “But if I suddenly bolt for the door, I hope you won't be too embarrassed.”

“You could never embarrass me,” he assured her. “Unless you decided to have your way with me on the anchor desk and the cameras caught us and broadcast it all over Charleston.”

Dinah chuckled, her tension obviously easing. “Now you've gone and made it interesting.”

She breezed past him and went inside.

D
inah's momentary flash of self-confidence waned about two seconds after she and Cord walked into the television station lobby. By the time they were escorted to the newsroom, her palms were sweating and her heart was racing. She felt as if she were on the verge of another full-fledged panic attack, something she'd been all but convinced was behind her. She hadn't had one since her breakthrough session with Warren the week before.

Overwhelmed by the oppressive sense of dread washing over her, she came to a halt the instant they stepped into the brightly lit newsroom with its maze of desks and computers and clutter. A few years ago walking into a room that was a beehive of activity in preparation for the evening newscast would have been second nature to her. Even on weekends, newsrooms were busy. The stir of excitement, the ringing phones, the shouted exchanges between reporters, producers and the news director would have kicked her adrenaline right into gear. Now all it stirred was an ever deepening sense of panic and dread. She wasn't ready to go back to this, not by a long shot.

Cord stopped beside her and regarded her with concern. “You okay?”

Dinah forced a smile. “Sure,” she said, barely managing to squeak out the brazen lie.

“Rick's office is right over there,” the perky young intern who'd been sent to escort them said. “I'll let him know you're here. He'll be with you as soon as he's free. You can wait here.” She gestured toward a couple of empty chairs in front of computers that had the station logo flashing as a screensaver.

“Thanks,” Cord said.

The young girl looked at Dinah curiously. Then her expression brightened. “Oh my gosh, I recognize you. You're Dinah Davis. You're a legend around here. But didn't I hear a few months back that you…” Her voice trailed off in embarrassment. “Sorry.”

“It's okay,” Dinah reassured her, her curiosity piqued. “What did you hear?”

The girl looked as if she'd rather go on
Fear Factor
and eat snails than give Dinah an honest answer. She finally swallowed hard and said, “Well, that you'd been fired. That you were all washed up. Is that why you're here?” she asked disingenuously. “Are you here to talk to Rick about a job?”

Dinah immediately felt sick to her stomach. So that's what the rumor mill was saying about her sudden disappearance from the network. Sadly, it was too darn close to the truth. She might have made the decision to go, but only because she'd been backed into a corner.

“No,” she said quietly. “I'm not here about a job. Mr. Beaufort's the one who's here to see Rick. I'm just tagging along.”

“Oh,” the girl said, obviously flustered. “Sorry. I don't care what happened. It would be a real coup to
get someone like you here. I'll bet there are a million things you could teach us. You were…” She blushed furiously and corrected herself, “You
are,
like, an idol to a lot of us.”

Sure, Dinah thought. She could teach them a lot, like how to drive a career straight off a cliff. She managed to smile. “Thanks. That's very sweet.”

The intern finally looked as if she realized that she'd said too much on a very touchy subject. Backing away, she murmured again, “I'll let Rick know you're waiting.”

Suddenly Dinah's knees felt weak. She sank down on one of the empty chairs. She realized her hands were shaking, as well. His expression filled with compassion, Cord hunkered down in front of her and took her hands in his, chafing them between his to get the circulation going.

“The first time's always the scariest,” he said quietly.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” she said stiffly. Her pride wouldn't let her admit the truth about her dismay even now, even to this man who'd been so supportive whenever she'd needed him to be. For a woman who'd faced death too damn often, how could a benign little newsroom in Charleston throw her for such a loop? It was absurd.

Because Cord knew her so well, he grinned, clearly not intending to let her get away with such a blatant lie. “Sure you do. Remember way back to the first time you fell off a bike? Remember how terrified you were to get back on? Or even the first time you had to walk back into a classroom after you'd stood up in front and had the teacher rip apart a report you'd worked on?”

Oddly enough, she did. What surprised Dinah was
that Cord understood that kind of emotion. She'd always assumed his ego was powerful enough to withstand anything. “Did you ever feel like that?” she asked.

“All the time,” he admitted. “I knew a lot of people at school were expecting me to fail, maybe even hoping I would. If someone like you messed up, it was no big deal. When I did, I knew that there was going to be someone who'd say I didn't deserve to be there. Every single day something happened that made me want to take off and never come back.”

“But you never did,” she said, remembering. “You had perfect attendance. You even got an award for it the year you graduated. Bobby was so proud of you.” Now that she knew more of the story, she was more in awe of that record than she had been at the time, but Bobby had evidently understood even then what it had taken Cord just to show up day after day and struggle to rise above all the contradictory expectations.

“Because he knew how hard it was for me,” Cord confirmed. “I wasn't the brightest kid in that school, but I'll bet I worked the hardest. I was determined not to blow that opportunity and if I had to face down every kid in the school every single day, it was a small price to pay.”

“That must have taken amazing courage,” she said, her admiration for him growing.

“Not courage, just plain old grit and determination,” he said. “I didn't want to let down whoever had taken a chance on me. I wanted them to know they'd done the right thing.”

“Grit and determination are the same as courage,” Dinah said. “I think that's what kept me going on all those tough assignments, grit and the determination not to fail.” She sighed wearily. “But in the end, I did.”

“No, you didn't,” Cord insisted. He looked away for an instant, then drew in a deep breath and met her gaze. “I never in a million years thought I'd ever say this, but you'll only fail if you want to go back and don't.”

Totally unprepared for his words, she stared at him with shock. “You want me to leave and go back?”

“No,” he said fiercely. “It's the last thing I want. But I do want you to do whatever you need to do to make peace with things. If that means going back over there, for however long it takes, then I'll support your decision a hundred percent.”

She looked deep into his eyes. “If I did go—and I'm not saying I want to or that I will—would you wait for me to come back?” She wasn't sure why it was so important to her to know the answer to that, but it was. “I know I don't have any right to ask such a thing.”

He touched a hand to her cheek. “Sugar, I don't have any choice. You're a part of me, no matter where you are. Don't you get that by now?”

Dinah felt her heart swell. That he would say such a thing, that he would give her that freedom once more proved what a remarkable man Cord had become. If only the future would lay itself out for her with such unwavering clarity.

 

The morning after the visit to the TV station, Cord could have kicked himself from Charleston to Atlanta for virtually pushing Dinah back onto the network fast track. Not that he'd had much choice in the matter. He'd seen that when he'd looked into her haunted eyes. He'd known instinctively that he had to encourage her to do whatever it took to wipe away the last traces of fear and put the sparkle back. Until she was whole, she couldn't possibly give him all he wanted from her.

Whatever had sent her fleeing back to Charleston had taken away something important. He wished she would share all that with him, but maybe he didn't need to know. Maybe the only thing that really mattered was that she get it back.

By the time they finally spent a few minutes with news director Rick Morgan, Cord already considered the visit to the station to have been a costly mistake. In stead of enticing Dinah to stay, it had paved the way right back toward her old job. Not that she'd said a single word during that meeting with Rick or later over dinner about going back to the network, but Cord saw the handwriting on the wall. Eventually she was going to see it, too.

“How did your trip to the television station pan out?” Dorothy Davis asked him, catching him by surprise with her sudden appearance.

Cord looked up from yet another printout of final cost projections and met her concerned gaze. “It backfired,” he said succinctly. “I have a feeling Dinah's going to try to get her job back at the network.”

“Oh, Cord, you can't be serious,” Mrs. Davis said, clearly dismayed. “How on earth did that happen? I thought this was a way to show her that she could stay right here and still be a top-notch reporter.”

“That was the plan,” Cord agreed. “But there was a look in her eyes.” He hesitated. “I'm not sure I can explain it. I just knew that if I didn't encourage her to go back if that's what she feels she needs to do, we'd both wind up regretting it.”

“And you think she will go back?”

“I'm almost certain of it,” Cord admitted. “I'm sorry. I really made a mess of things.”

To his amazement, Mrs. Davis crossed the room and
gave him a fierce hug. “Don't you dare say that. What more could I want for Dinah than a man who loves her enough to let her go?” She gave him a thoughtful look. “And it's not the first time, is it? You stayed away for your brother's sake once, too, didn't you?”

Cord shrugged, uncomfortable with her insight.

“You must love her very much,” she concluded.

“Either that or I'm a fool,” he said.

“It's never foolish to love someone unselfishly,” she scolded. “I think I'm discovering that for myself for the first time.”

He regarded her with amusement. “Then you and Mr. Davis had a good time on your date the other night?”

She actually blushed. “We had an amazing time.”

“You almost gave Dinah heart failure,” he noted. “The motorcycle was a bit unorthodox for you and her father. She was sure you were both riding off to certain death.”

“Well, she'll just have to get over that. That Harley was magnificent. Did Marshall tell you he bought it?”

Cord laughed at the excited gleam in her eyes. “Is that so? Is he getting you one, as well?”

She shook her head. “That would defeat the purpose, don't you think?”

“Which purpose is that?” Cord asked innocently, fighting to contain a smile.

“Me hanging onto my husband for dear life,” she said. “It's quite exciting. Perhaps Marshall will loan it to you and Dinah some evening when we're not using it.”

“You plan on using it a lot?”

“Every chance we get.”

“It's going to cause quite a stir next time you arrive at a charity ball,” he observed.

She laughed, suddenly looking years younger. “That might be one of the nights we loan it to you. Some of those old stick-in-the-muds would probably keel right over dead if we rode up on a motorcycle and we can't have that, at least not until we get the charities into their wills.”

“You know what, Mrs. Davis. I hope that Dinah and I get the chance and have the good sense to shake things up when we're your age.”

“Something tells me you will,” she said, giving his hand a pat. “I believe I know my daughter reasonably well. Dinah's smart enough not to let a man like you get away.”

Cord wished he were half as certain, but her encouragement did push him to give Dinah a call and make plans for her to join him at his place. If she was eventually going to leave, then he didn't want a single night to pass without her being in his arms.

 

“If you're going to keep luring me out here, I'm going to have to leave an extra toothbrush and some clothes,” Dinah told Cord that night. “I can't keep wandering around the house in one of your shirts and going home in the morning in the same clothes I wore the night before. Maybelle is giving me very disapproving looks.”

“And your folks? What kind of looks are they giving you?”

Dinah frowned, worry creasing her brow. “They're not home. I'm still trying to figure out if they're getting out of the house at the crack of dawn these days or if they're sneaking around and staying in hotel rooms.”

“Would you disapprove if they were?”

“Disapprove? Why on earth would I? It's just odd,
that's all. I could have sworn when I first got home that they were on the brink of a divorce.”

“I don't think you need to worry about that now,” Cord said.

Dinah scowled at the comment. “What do you know that I don't?”

“Nothing really. I spend a lot of time with your mother. She seems awfully happy lately.”

“Yes, she does, doesn't she?” Dinah said. “What on earth do you suppose changed?”

“My guess is that motorcycle played a big part in it.” He gave Dinah a speculative look. “She offered to loan it to us, you know.”

“She did?” A horrifying thought occurred to her. “Wait a second. Did my father actually buy it?”

“That's what she told me.”

Dinah shook her head, more bemused than ever. “I thought he must have borrowed it or rented it. What's next? A plane?”

“You never know.”

“Oh, bite your tongue. I was kidding.”

“Hey, they're just living life to the fullest,” Cord countered. “There's nothing wrong with that.”

“They're taking crazy risks,” Dinah retorted.

Cord's expression sobered. “And you don't get that?”

She returned his gaze for the longest time, then sighed. “Yes, I suppose I do.”