Maybe Married

Dana chose the restaurant, but as soon as they walked in Zeke knew why she’d made that particular selection—it was the darkest little bar he’d ever been in. “I can’t quite see Barclay bringing you here,” he murmured as she led the way to a table. “As a matter of fact, I can’t see much of anything at all. But I suppose that’s the biggest attraction of the place—he’s not likely to walk in and spot us together.”

To his disappointment Dana didn’t rise to the bait. “No, I chose it because the music is loud enough to keep anyone from overhearing us, but not so loud that we’ll have to shout. And you did say you wanted a steak—they’re supposed to have the best ones in town.”

“Supposed to? You don’t know? Don’t tell me you’ve gone vegetarian.” She looked it, he thought. She was thinner than he remembered. Did that mean that Barclay liked his women as angular as clothing racks?

“I got so used to rice and beans when we were married that it became a habit.”

“Sarcasm isn’t your strong point, Dana.”

“Then I’ll have to work harder at it.” She took a menu from behind the salt and pepper shakers and handed it to him. It was so battered that the lamination was coming loose from the paper. Zeke maneuvered the menu into the glow of the single narrow spotlight above the table and tried to read around the scratches and reflections.

Dana seemed to have no trouble figuring out what the menu said. “It’s my lucky day,” she said. “Pinto bean and wild rice soup. Just what I wanted.”

“Don’t starve yourself for my sake.”

“Still being bossy, I see.” She put her menu down with a slap.

“No, just practical. I saw you knocking back champagne at Barclay’s party, and if we’re going to have a serious discussion—”

“You’d like me to be sober for it? Gee, and here I thought you were asking me out to dinner for old times’ sake. You can rest easy, Zeke. I had one glass of champagne. I carried it around with me most of the evening, and I dumped the last of it down the drain right before I left Baron’s Hill.”

“Fine.” One thing was already obvious, Zeke thought. She was still just as stubborn as she’d ever been—if not more so.

“But if you insist, I’ll order something besides rice and bean soup.” She looked up at the server. “I’ll have your most expensive steak.” She pointed at Zeke. “And he’ll have the bill.”

The server didn’t even blink. “For you, sir?”

“Make it two.” The server went away, and Zeke said, “The last thing I would have expected, years ago when we were just trying to survive the semester, was that you’d end up being the university’s first lady.”

Dana shrugged and fiddled with her menu, putting it neatly back in place and propping it up with the ketchup bottle. “And who would have thought you’d end up as Mr. Industrialist?”

“Not for much longer.”

She nodded. “Barclay said something about you selling your business. He’s hoping that when you hold all those millions in your hands, you’ll remember the university with fondness.”

“Tell me something I didn’t know,” Zeke said dryly.

“What are you going to do then? Go lie on a beach in Hawaii?”

Zeke shook his head. “Oh, no. I wouldn’t dream of restricting myself to one beach when there must be hundreds of them out there around the world, just waiting for me.”

Her laugh brought a sparkle of gold to her big brown eyes, he noted. At least that much hadn’t changed.

The server brought salads and a basket of bread.

Dana drizzled blue cheese dressing over her lettuce. “All right,” she said. “Enough polite conversation. What makes you think—”

“Poor Barclay,” Zeke interrupted.

Dana paused. “What about him?” She sounded a little uncertain.

“He must think you’re a diplomat, or he wouldn’t have proposed. Boy, is he in for a nasty shock.”

“Thank you very much for that helpful dissection of my character. I don’t normally have trouble making nice to people—only when they say completely idiotic things. What makes you so sure there’s something wrong with the divorce, anyway? I have all the papers—or didn’t the lawyer ever send you a set?” Her eyes widened. “Dammit, Zeke, if you caused all this trouble just because you didn’t get any paperwork—”

“I got it. It’s a very impressive set of documents. Lots of fine print and gold seals and flowery signatures and whereases and heretofores.”

“Yeah,” Dana said slowly, “that sounds like the same thing I got. But then—”

“Did you ever read the fine print?”

She hesitated, as if she was considering the ramifications of telling the truth, before she finally said, “No. Not all of it.”

“Well, I didn’t either, until just recently. It turns out that we applied for a divorce in the Dominican Republic instead of Wisconsin. Or, rather, our attorney applied, in our names.”

Dana looked at him blankly. “Why would he do such a thing?”

“Apparently because he’d found it to be a very accommodating legal system—and it appears to be a perfectly fine one for the people who live there. Unfortunately, as far as I can find out, very few other courts in the world seems to recognize a Dominican divorce as legal. So if a couple who lives in Wisconsin gets a divorce in the—”

“They’re not really divorced at all,” Dana groaned.

“Not unless they move to the Caribbean. Though, come to think of it, there are plenty of beaches there. It’s worth considering.”

She obviously wasn’t listening. “That shyster! Why bother to file it anywhere? Why not just create the fancy document out of thin air and tell us it was real? We’d have believed it—we’d have believed anything he told us. We were just a couple of kids who were anxious to put a mistake behind us.”

“I suppose he thought that making it up out of whole cloth would be unethical.”

“Unethical!” She made a noise that sounded like a snort. “It sounds to me as if he wouldn’t know an ethic if it bit him in the nose.”

Pure mischief made him say, “You have to give him a little credit for having a conscience. The document we got is certainly real, even if it doesn’t exactly accomplish what we intended it to.”

“Cut it out, Zeke. The man was only after the money, and you know it. He probably calculated the cost of every last gold seal.”

“The question now, of course, is what we’re going to do about it.”

“That’s a no-brainer,” Dana said promptly. “We hire another attorney and get a real divorce this time. No, on second thought, the first thing I want to do is sue him to get my money back, and then—”

Zeke frowned. What was she talking about? “Get your money back?”

“Yes.” She thrust out her chin. “As long as we’re hashing out leftover details, that’s another thing we might as well talk about. I know you were strapped for cash at the time, but so was I. That was why we agreed to cooperate instead of hiring two attorneys in the first place.”

“That was your brilliant idea, I believe,” he murmured. “And an expensive mistake it turned out to be.”

She glowered at him. “I’m not the only one he fooled. And stop trying to change the subject. I didn’t appreciate you sticking me with the bill for the divorce, Zeke. Splitting it down the middle would have been fair, but saddling me with the whole thing—”

No wonder she wants her money back. “I didn’t do anything of the sort,” Zeke said.

“Don’t try to weasel out of it now, because it can’t be done. Not only did I pay the whole bill, but I kept the cancelled checks as a reminder to be more careful who I got involved with next time.”

He didn’t doubt it for a minute. Not that the resolution appeared to have done her much good—taking up with Barclay Howell, for heaven’s sake. What was the woman thinking of?

He spoke slowly and deliberately. “So did I, Dana.”

She stared at him. “You…what?”

Zeke said gently, “I paid the whole bill.” He watched her face turn pale under the brilliant spotlight as comprehension slowly dawned.

“He charged us both? And all this time I was thinking that you’d ducked out of paying your share.” Her voice cracked. “And you thought I’d dodged mine.”

“No, I just believed it was my responsibility, so I took care of it.”

She swallowed hard, but she obviously wasn’t in the mood to give him points for acting like a gentleman. “That shark.” She stretched out her hands, fingers spread like claws. “When I get hold of him—”

She wasn’t wearing an engagement ring, Zeke noted absently. She wasn’t wearing any jewelry at all, in fact; not only were her hands bare but her neck was unadorned as well. Pity, he thought. It was a neck that was made for delicate gold chains. Her throat was slim and long, with an aristocratic arch. It had always been a very kissable little neck. He wondered if Barclay had discovered the ticklish spot right below her ear….

None of your business, Ferris.

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” he said mildly. “You’d be bound to be caught if you committed assault and battery inside a federal penitentiary, and Barclay might not like it.”

“Our attorney is in a federal prison?”

Zeke nodded. “He’s already served two years of an eight-to-ten for fraud.”

“So that’s how you found out we’re not divorced after all? A story in the newspaper or something.”

He toyed with the idea of simply nodding. It would certainly be the easiest course. But Dana had already proved that she wasn’t going to be easily convinced, and he wouldn’t put it past her to demand that he produce the newspaper clipping. The trouble was that there had been no news coverage—or at least none that he’d seen.

“Not exactly,” he said. “Arranging faulty divorces isn’t what he’s in prison for. As a matter of fact, I didn’t know he was in prison till I tried to look him up so he could explain how the hell he’d messed up ours. Until then, I thought it was just a simple mistake.”

The server returned with two platters topped with still-sizzling steaks. Good timing, Zeke thought, and changed the subject. “How long have you known Barclay?”

Dana paid no attention to either her plate or his question. “How did you find out there was anything wrong?”

He met her gaze, levelly. “I happened to run across the divorce papers one day and I decided to check everything out and make sure it was all in order.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Six years after the fact, you just took it into your head to ask an attorney whether you were really divorced?”

“Call it a whim. And it turned out to be a sensible one, too.”

She looked at him for a long moment and then shook her head. “Oh, no, you don’t, Zeke. You’re not going to make me believe that you had nothing better to do than run down the details of a six-year-old legal case. Or to pay a lawyer to do it, either. So what’s really going on?”

He cut a slice from his steak. “This will lose half its flavor if you let it get cold,” he warned.

Dana didn’t seem to hear him. “I’ve got it. You’re planning a little walk down the aisle yourself. And your new bride—who must be a more careful sort than I ever was—wanted to be certain you were really and truly free.”

“Nice story. Not a word of truth in it, but you get credit for a noble effort.”

“Oh, come on. Why should I care that you’re planning to get married? You can tell me all about her. Maybe I’ll invite her to lunch someday—give her some pointers about handling you. She might even ask me to be a bridesmaid.” Dana started to laugh. “If you could see your face, Zeke…You’re acting as if you think I’m going to refuse to divorce you this time around.” She stopped dead, staring at him.

He watched her with interest. The play of emotion across her face was fascinating—first laughter, then shock, and then the beginnings of grim anger.

“You do,” she accused. “You are actually arrogant enough to think I’m going to stand in your way. As if I’d be stupid enough to want you back! I couldn’t wait to get out of our marriage last time around, and I’m certainly not going to hold you up…”

Zeke cut another bite of his steak and waited patiently for her to run down.

“Hold you up,” she repeated. “I get it now. Last time neither of us had a dime, so there was no problem about who got what. But now you’re sitting on a gold mine—and you think I’m mercenary enough to want to stay married to you just so I can help spend it.”

“If that was what I thought, Dana, I would just have waited to tell you about the divorce till the business was sold.”

Dana shook her head. “No, you wouldn’t—because then you’d have cash in your hands. I could demand part of that in return for your freedom. Well, let me assure you I won’t. I want to be free just as much as you do, and it can’t happen soon enough for me.”

Here’s your chance, Ferris. Make it good. “Now that is a difficulty,” Zeke said calmly. “Because you see, Dana…I don’t.”

CHAPTER THREE

DANA pushed her plate away and propped both elbows on the table, steadying her chin in her hands while she tried to decide whether Zeke could have possibly said what she thought she’d heard. He couldn’t have, she decided. She must have been hallucinating, because he didn’t seem to realize he had said anything unusual at all. And he certainly wasn’t waiting for a reaction, the way he would if he’d deliberately thrown out a bombshell like that one; he was concentrating on his steak as if it was the only important issue in his life at the moment.

It was an odd thing for her to hallucinate about, though. Out of the blue, to imagine that Zeke wanted her back…She wasn’t even in the habit of thinking about him. Not often, anyway. She must have been even more shaken than she’d realized by his announcement—and that was saying something.

“In case I didn’t make myself quite clear,” Zeke said finally, “I mean that I don’t want a divorce.”

Dana supposed that announcement should make her feel better, because there was no question this time what he’d meant, and that proved she wasn’t hearing odd voices in her head after all. Unfortunately, establishing that she wasn’t the crazy one didn’t eliminate the problem.

“Well, you always were a little irrational about certain subjects,” she said, trying to sound calm. “But this confirms it—you’ve lost your ever-lovin’ mind. Of course you want a divorce, Zeke. You’ve had a divorce for the past six years.” She saw him start to shake his head and rolled her eyes. “So all right, maybe it wasn’t quite legal—but we thought it was. We both lived as if we were single. You absolutely cannot expect me to believe that you’ve gone around for the last six years regretting our breakup and living like a monk while you tried to figure out a way to get me back.”

“No,” Zeke said.

“Good. At least you know better than to insult my intelligence. So what on earth do you mean, you don’t want a divorce?”

“Not at the moment anyway.”

“At the moment? Okay, I’ll wait five minutes and try again.” She pulled her plate back and cut into her steak. “In the meantime—”

“And not for the next few months. About three should do it, I think.”

Dana put down her fork. “I’m not even going to ask you to explain the logic behind that. But I don’t see the problem. If we’d file the papers tomorrow, it would take at least that long before the divorce is final and you’re free. Even if the court rushed everything through, three months from now we’ll still be married…” Her voice trailed off. “I can’t believe I’m actually saying that.”

“But as soon as we asked for a divorce, it would be clear that I was going to be unattached within a relatively short space of time.”

“And you don’t want to be free?”

“Ultimately, yes. Of course I do. But not for the next three months.”

“What’s magical about three months, for heaven’s sake?”

“I thought you weren’t going to ask me to explain.” He held up both hands, palms out. “Okay, okay—no more teasing. I haven’t forgotten the symptoms when you’re about to blow up.”

“Good for you,” Dana muttered.

Zeke tipped his water glass and used the edge of the heavy base to draw invisible circles on the tabletop. “You said Barclay told you I’m selling my company.”

Dana nodded.

“Well, he’s a little ahead of the times. I’m negotiating a sale, but it isn’t final yet.”

“No wonder you weren’t eager to write the university a check.”

“And I never will be as long as he’s in charge.”

“Tell me, Zeke…” Dana’s voice dripped irony. “Exactly when did you acquire this overwhelming fondness for Barclay? Because if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were acting jealous.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Zeke said lightly. “I’ve been watching you from afar these last six years and setting private detectives to check out every guy you dated. I can tell you exactly how many times you’ve been kissed good night at the front door.”

Dana didn’t believe him for an instant. “Only at the front door? Surely you didn’t neglect to bug my bedroom.”

“Dana!” He sounded shocked. “There are some things a gentleman just won’t do.”

“Right. I’d put more stock in that if you behaved like a gentleman even when it wasn’t convenient. It’s interesting that all through these years of spying on me, this is the first time you felt it necessary to intervene in my private life. I suppose you’re going to tell me that your Don Quixote impulses got the best of you?”

“And sent me rushing to rescue you from Barclay,” he agreed. “I find it fascinating, of course, that you seem to think you need rescuing…Was that one of those nasty Freudian slips, my dear?”

Dana bit her tongue. When was she going to learn to watch every word she said? He’d always been deadly in an argument. “Let’s leave Barclay out of it, all right?”

Zeke shrugged. “Fine, just remember that you’re the one who brought him in. But let me put your mind at rest on the jealousy question. I disliked Barclay the moment I heard his unctuous, oily voice on the telephone.”

“Then—if you were so unimpressed with him—why did you accept his invitation to the cocktail party?”

“Because I was looking for you, sweetheart, and I thought if he called the alumni office to vouch for me, I’d have an easier time of getting your current address.”

“Why didn’t you just ask all your private investigators where to find me?” Dana asked sweetly.

Zeke had gone straight on. “I didn’t expect to run into you right at Barclay’s elbow.” He raised his eyebrows. “Come to think of it, why were you at Barclay’s elbow? And don’t give me the obvious answer, because I’m not asking what you see in him. I want to know why you’re even at the university. You were as anxious to shake the dust of this town off your feet as I was.”

“No—I was anxious to get out of the marriage. I’m here because I was offered a very good job, with a lot of potential for advancement.”

Zeke shrugged. “I guess, if marrying Barclay is your idea of advancing…”

“That isn’t what I was talking about. I was hired to promote the idea of a conference center, to develop the plans and create demand for the facility. In another year or two, when it’s completed, I’ll be in charge of a brand-new, state-of-the-art building and all the business that goes with it. The university will be the place to go for conventions, parties, product launches, weddings—”

“And in the meantime?”

She admitted, reluctantly, “We’re located in Dressler Hall.”

“Refresh my memory. Is that the building on the corner of the quadrangle, the one that’s all falling plaster and bats?”

“Not anymore. Stop changing the subject, Zeke. You still haven’t told me why you want to be unavailable for the next three months, much less why you want to look as if you’re going to be unavailable forever. You’ll notice I didn’t assume that you actually want to be married to me.”

“Smart girl,” Zeke said. “To put it in a nutshell, the corporation that wants to buy my business has indicated that they want me to be part of the package.”

“Work for them, you mean? It’s not exactly unusual.”

“The CEO is quite insistent.”

“So tell him you’ve done all the work you intend to in this lifetime and you’re going to lie on a beach for the next forty years. I don’t see why you think being married will solve that problem.”

“The female CEO.”

Dana shredded a bit of steak while she thought about it. “And the package she wants to buy includes you personally? Isn’t that called sexual harassment?”

“Try to prove it. Besides, she’s far too subtle to say it directly. That’s part of the problem—if she’d come out in the open, I could deflect her, but she’s playing me like a trout on a line. She won’t agree to the purchase unless I sign an employment contract, and the minute the sale is final she’ll start with the personal stuff. ‘Let’s talk about that over dinner, Zeke.’ ‘There’s a client’s party we must be seen at, so let’s go together.’ Things like that.”

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