Trading Christmas - Debbie Macomber [74]
“So you kissed Joseph Rockwell,” Paul said absently.
“Yes, but there was a tiny bit more than that. I made him marry me.”
Paul’s eyebrows shot to the ceiling.
“Now, almost twenty years later, he’s getting his revenge by going around telling everyone that we’re actually married. Which of course is ridiculous.”
A couple of strained seconds followed her announcement.
“I’m not sure what to say,” Paul murmured.
“Oh, I wasn’t expecting you to say anything. I thought it was important to clear the air, that’s all.”
“I see.”
“He’s only doing it because…well, because that’s Joe. Even when we were kids he enjoyed playing these little games. No one really minded, though, especially not the girls, because he was so cute.” She certainly had Paul’s attention now.
“I thought you should know,” she added, “in case you happened to hear a rumor or something. I didn’t want you thinking Joe and I were involved, or even considering a relationship. I was fairly certain you wouldn’t, but one never knows and I’m a firm believer in being forthright and honest.”
Paul blinked. Wanting to fill the awkward silence, Cait chattered on. “Apparently Joe recognized my name when he and his men moved my office in here with yours. He was delighted when I didn’t recognize him. In fact, he caused a commotion by asking me about our children in front of everyone.”
“Children?”
“My dolls,” Cait was quick to explain.
“Joe Rockwell’s an excellent man. I couldn’t fault your taste, Cait.”
“The two of us aren’t involved,” she protested. “Good grief, I haven’t seen him in nearly twenty years.”
“I see,” Paul said slowly. He sounded…disappointed, Cait thought. But she must have misread his tone because there wasn’t a single, solitary reason for him to be disappointed. Cait felt foolish now for even trying to explain this fiasco. Paul was so oblivious about her feelings that there was nothing she could say or do to make him understand.
“I just wanted you to know,” she repeated, “in case you heard the rumors and were wondering if there was anything between me and Joseph Rockwell. I wanted to assure you there isn’t.”
“I see,” he said again. “Don’t worry about it, Cait. What happened between you and Rockwell isn’t going to affect your job.”
She stood up to leave, praying she’d detect a suggestion of jealousy. A hint of rivalry. Anything to show he cared. There was nothing, so she tried again. “I agreed to have dinner with him, though.”
Paul had returned his attention to the papers he’d been reading when she’d interrupted him.
“For old times’ sake,” she said in a reassuring voice—to fend off any violent display of resentment, she told herself. “I certainly don’t have any intention of dating him on a regular basis.”
Paul grinned. “Have a good time.”
“Yes, I will, thanks.” Her heart felt as heavy as a sinking battleship. Without knowing where she was headed or who she’d talk to, Cait wandered out of Paul’s office, forgetting for a second that she had no office of her own. The area where her desk once sat was cluttered with wire reels, ladders and men. Joe must have left, a fact for which Cait was grateful.
She walked into Lindy’s small office across the hall. Her friend glanced up. “So?” she murmured. “Did you talk to Paul?”
Cait nodded.
“How’d it go?”
“Fine, I guess.” She perched on the corner of Lindy’s desk, crossing her arms around her waist as her left leg swung rhythmically, keeping time with her discouraged heart. She should be accustomed to disappointment when it came to Paul, but somehow each rejection inflicted a fresh wound on her already battered ego. “I was hoping Paul might be jealous.”
“And he wasn’t?”
“Not that I could tell.”
“It isn’t as though you and Joe have anything to do with