When Dreams Cross (4 page)

“Have we?” he asked with a faint note of surprise. He held her gaze for a long moment, studying her face as he propped his elbow on the back of his chair and inclined his head pensively. For a moment, he thought of backing out, telling her that it still couldn’t work, that no matter what she gave him, he wouldn’t join forces with her.

But then he remembered the looks on his staff members’ faces, the disgust, the anger. And they had a right to be angry. He owed this to them, for their belief in him, their trust that God had gifted and called them, their belief that this was a ministry and a mission. Pierce Productions may be his business, he thought, but if his promises to God had been real, it was God’s ministry. Maybe this really was where God wanted it to go.

Finally, he extended his hand, enclosing hers in a handshake more personal than professional. “If my lawyer thinks everything looks right, I guess we can do business,” he drawled in a voice deepened to a reluctantly intimate pitch.

“You won’t regret it, Justin,” she promised. Clearing her throat, Andi disengaged her hand and stood up. “Can you and your attorney be at my office early tomorrow morning?” she asked in a cooler, more pointed voice.

“First thing,” he said, his eyes losing their familiar glint and veiling over with the abrupt change in her mood. He pulled himself up slowly, then led her back through the studio to the door, as if the suggestion that she leave was his.

Shuttering her own eyes, she stepped between him and the door’s casing. “I hope you’ll find some way to get some sleep tonight. You shouldn’t enter into an agreement of this sort without rest.”

He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorjamb. “-I’ll get the weekend guard to relieve me tonight,” he said, though he didn’t know why he bothered with an explanation. “If all goes well, I won’t need that job anymore.”

“If all goes well,” Andi said, “money will be the least of your problems.” Immediately, she regretted that promise, remembering how adamant he had been about denying her money this morning and how delicate the subject of his taking it would be now.

Quietly, he opened the screen door for her.

“Tomorrow,” she said, walking away as quickly as she could, refusing to look back at him as he stood in the doorway, silently watching her leave.

When she pulled out of the driveway, Justin let the door bounce shut and went back in to pick up the pad he’d been sketching on before he’d fallen asleep. The incomplete image of the Andi he had once known stared back at him.

Dropping onto the couch, he laid his head back on the cushions and gazed suspiciously at the drawing in his lap, a reminder of how easily a man could be taken in by big green eyes and a captivating smile. But not this time, he vowed. For he was on guard, and awareness would always be the key—the defensive weapon, he believed, that would never slip away.

He set the sketch down and tried to think of all the things he’d have to take care of before morning. A slow, wry grin melted the tension on his face.

“I’ve got to get a lawyer,” he said with a chuckle, and headed for the phone.

Chapter Three

T
he hospital room was cold, as usual. Andi adjusted her father’s covers and stroked back his thinning hair. Andrew Sherman slept, but it wasn’t a normal kind of sleep. It was a sleep so deep that nothing and no one could penetrate it.

“Guess who I saw today, Daddy,” she said, then glanced over her shoulder at her mother, who sat on the vinyl couch beside the bed, where she spent so much of her life these days.

Georgia Sherman was still a beautiful woman with a Jackie Onassis grace that Andi had always envied, and Andi knew how proud her father would be when he woke to her. “Who did you see, honey?” her mother asked.

“Justin Pierce,” she said. She turned back to her father, searching for a response on his face. “You hear that, Daddy? Justin Pierce.”

“Where did you see him?” her mother asked.

She sighed at her father’s lack of response and turned back to her mother. “I invited him to the office. We’re going to buy his cartoons and make the characters a part of our park.”

“Like Mickey Mouse and Goofy?” her mother asked. “That’s a wonderful idea. I’m surprised your father didn’t think of it.”

Andi narrowed her eyes at her mother. “So you have no comment at all about the fact that Justin Pierce is the animator?”

“No, if he’s the one you want.”

“Not him, Mom. The cartoons.”

“Whatever,” her mother said with a smile. She patted the vinyl couch next to her, and Andi got up and moved to sit beside her. “Did you tell him your father had tried to find him?”

“It didn’t matter, Mom. Justin’s still as stubborn as he ever was. He doesn’t listen.”

“His pride was hurt. So was yours, when he ended things. It takes a lot to overcome wounded pride.”

Andi drew in a deep breath and leaned her head back on the edge of the couch. “It shouldn’t take so much, Mom. I should be humble and Christlike, but today when I was around Justin I felt my hackles rising. It was like a one-upmanship of lethal blows. How am I going to work with him?”

“You loved him once. Surely there was something you liked about him.”

She thought about that for a long moment. “There were lots of things I liked about him. But he wasn’t so angry all the time then, so defensive. He had a soft side. And there were a lot of things about me that he liked.”

“It’s always easier to get along with someone who thinks a lot of you.”

Andi smiled, but it quickly faded. “He didn’t think much of me today. I guess he hasn’t for the past eight years.”

“Are you sure about that?”

She thought it over for a moment, and considered telling her mother about the sketch pad with her face on it, but it might not mean a thing, and she hated looking like a pathetic teenager who read volumes into every little thing. “Yes, Mom. I’m sure.”

“Maybe you should try asking his forgiveness.”

“For what? For believing what my father told me?”

“For believing something that wasn’t true about him.” She patted Andi’s leg. “Honey, maybe he’d feel better about you if you validated his feelings somewhat. Let him know that you understand why and how you hurt him.”

“What about
my
feelings, Mom? I was hurt, too. He disappeared for a week. What was I supposed to think? It wasn’t my fault-”

“Fine, then. Hold onto your right to be hurt and angry, and he’ll hold onto his. ‘Love never keeps score.’”

Andi wilted. “When you put it like that … I guess I have a lot to learn.”

“Don’t we all?”

“You don’t,” she said. Her eyes strayed back to her father. “You’ve stuck by him, Mom. It’s been really sweet to see how you’ve been here day and night, even when he doesn’t know you’re here.”

“He knows. Somewhere in there, he knows.”

“To have a love like that,” Andi whispered.

Her mother took her hand and squeezed it. “Most people don’t know you’d want that,” she said. “You’re so independent. So strong. Maybe you need to let your guard down a little more. Put out some signals.”

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “The last time I let my guard down, look what happened. I never want to hurt like that again.”

“Sometimes God teaches us through those hurts. What have you learned, Andi?”

She smiled. “To keep my guard up and keep a safe distance between Justin and me.”

Georgia took her daughter’s face in her hands. “I’m serious.”

“Yeah, Mom,” Andi said. “So am I.”

Chapter Four

T
he late morning sun outside the boardroom window gave a bright glow to the faces around the bargaining table, and Andi once again let her eyes drift to Justin. He looked rested, and the life and vibrancy that had been so characteristic of him years ago sparkled brightly in his blue eyes as he listened to the two lawyers ironing out the finer points of his merger with Promised Land. Formal negotiations had taken three days of phone calls and lengthy conferences, and now both sides had come together to close the deal. Even after four hours, Justin listened attentively, adding a comment now and then, but generally conveying a positive attitude that Andi found surprising. Was it possible, she wondered, that they could work together amicably and that he would not see her position in the company as one of dictator each time she made a suggestion?

Standing up, she stretched her arms and went to the coffeepot her secretary had kept filled all morning. Tossing a wayward strand of hair back over her shoulder, she poured the black brew into her cup, then glanced back at Justin. His gaze had drifted to her, but the expression in his eyes was hard to read. Telling herself he just wanted coffee, she raised a brow in question and gestured toward the pot in her hand. He nodded.

As the attorneys and various board members continued discussing the details that she had worked out earlier, Andi stepped around them until she stood behind Justin. Careful not to touch his back, she leaned over him and poured. Her hair fell over her shoulder, catching on his. Their eyes met briefly as she swept it back, then he looked down at the cup. Her nerves frayed at his scrutiny of her usually steady hand, and she told herself to get back to her seat as quickly as possible.

She was a fool, she told herself as she slipped back into her chair. And the emotions waging war within her were sure to make it obvious to everyone.

Y
ou’re a fool,
Justin told himself angrily as he watched her settle back into her seat across the table. He shouldn’t react to her the way he did, as if he were some kid with a crush on a woman out of his league. She wasn’t someone he needed to have on his mind so much. He’d been there, done that. His feeling for her had been a mistake that had taken much too long to recover from. He brought the cup to his lips and glanced at his watch. How much longer would this take? All the points he’d wanted had been covered already. What more was there to talk about?

Again he felt her eyes on him, but he refused to meet them. It was her strategy, he reminded himself. She was merely trying to distract him so that his mind wouldn’t be on the details. And the worst part was that it was working. Unbuttoning the top button of his white shirt and loosening his tie, he forced his mind back to the conversation, hoping that they would at least break for lunch soon. He needed air. He needed distance. He needed time to get his thoughts and senses back in order.

A
ndi jotted down one of the points that Justin’s attorney had just mentioned, noting from the corner of her eye that Justin was unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling his sleeves up. Over an hour ago he had shed his coat and tossed it over the back of the chair next to him. Justin had never liked dressing up. But his attorney had probably advised him to dress for the board members today. Little did he know that the members were so enchanted with his cartoon that he could have worn a Hawaiian muumuu and their opinions would not have swayed.

Taking sympathy with his obvious discomfort, Andi waited for the attorneys to come to the end of one clause in the agreement before she interrupted. “I think that’s enough for the morning. Does anyone have any objections to breaking for lunch?”

A breath of relief sounded almost in unison, but none of the strained faces showed more gratitude for the suggestion than Justin’s. As the group broke up, Wes slapped Justin on the back. “It’s going well, Justin,” he said. “I know we’ll make a good team.”

“I’m counting on it,” he said, his eyes drifting past the man to Andi, who was exchanging a few private words with her attorney.

“We’d like to treat you to lunch on the grounds,” Wes went on. “We have only one little coffeehouse open for the workers, but the food’s not bad. We’d also like to give you a tour this afternoon before we get back to business.”

“We?” Justin asked.

“Andi and I.”

Andi’s eyes flashed alarm at Wes when she heard the exchange. “Justin probably wants to spend some time with Mr. Boteler,” she said, referring to his attorney. “I don’t think-”

“No problem,” Justin’s lawyer assured her. “I have to make a few phone calls, and I think a tour will keep him busy while I do that.”

As though sensing her discomfort—and delighting in it—Justin shrugged and offered a challenging smile. “I’d love to see the grounds.”

Andi recognized the challenge, and was not willing to appear to be backing down from it. Starting out of the conference room, she said, “Meet us in my office when you’re ready.”

When she and Wes were alone in her office, Andi sat down behind her desk and let her cool, taut facade fade into a hard glare. “I thought
you
were going to take him on the tour,” she bit out. “We agreed to that this morning. I told you I have too much work to do.”

“You can’t avoid him, Andi,” Wes said.

“I’m not avoiding him,” she said, waving a hand across the stacks of papers on her desk. “I’ve got too much to do. What makes you think I don’t feel comfortable with him, anyway?”

Wes snickered and fished a Tootsie Pop out of his pants pocket. He unwrapped it and stuck it in his mouth. “It’s me, Andi. I know you. You’re as tense as a kid on her first date when you’re around him.”

Andi heaved a frustrated sigh and leaned wearily back in her chair, angry that she had let it show so easily. “Wes, I was not tense on my first date. And if I was tense today it was over business, not Justin.”

Wes chuckled and pulled up a chair. “Oh yeah, I’d almost forgotten. You weren’t tense on your first date because you didn’t want to go, did you? I’ll never forget that story … that your dad picked him out for you and you were determined to make him hate you.”

A half smile melted the icy lines on Andi’s face at the memory of the prep-school senior who had spent so much energy trying to impress her father. “It was kind of fun convincing him I was a klutz. After I got finished with him, he probably considered it no wonder that my father had to find my dates for me.”

“Your father probably wanted to kill you,” Wes said on a laugh.

Andi’s smile traveled to her eyes. “But he never tried to fix me up again.”

“No, I’m sure he didn’t,” Wes said. “Only
break
you up.” Andi’s eyes fell with the expression on her face, and she focused on her laced fingers. “Yes, well.” Issuing a deep sigh, she brought her eyes back to her friend. “I really can’t take Justin on the tour.”

Wes plopped into a chair and regarded Andi with narrowed eyes. “So you’re just going to stay clear of him until the first time you have to ask him to do something?”

Realizing what he was getting at, Andi leaned forward on her elbows. “Wes, what’s wrong with that? I don’t make close friends with everyone on staff. I don’t hold their hands and try to convince them that they’ve made the right decision by joining Promised Land.”

“Everyone else is different,” Wes contended. “You don’t feel the need to walk on eggshells around them. The sooner you get over that with Justin, the sooner we can get down to business.”

Andi shook her head and brushed her hair back with stiff fingers, realizing that Wes was right. As president of Promised Land, she would have to get past her feelings for Justin and establish a comfortable working relationship from the beginning. In her head she knew it, but her heart was aware it was on unstable ground. “I didn’t exactly dress for getting out today,” she said in near surrender, glancing down at the jade dress she had worn for the meeting.

“Neither did we,” Wes said with a smile. “It won’t hurt for the construction crews to see you dressed like a woman for a change.”

Just as she opened her mouth to protest, a knock sounded and Justin walked in, erasing her retort from her mind. He had taken off his tie as she had anticipated, and released a couple more buttons on his shirt. His smile was pleasant yet guarded. Determined not to seem tense, Andi stood abruptly and gestured toward the window. “Are you ready to see what God has done with an impossible dream?” she asked brightly.

In light of the phrasing of her question, Justin could not help but offer a dazzling smile and follow her out of the room.