Genae noted that several of the other diners recognized Brian, some greeting him by name. Little Rock was a relatively small community and the Littrells had been a familiar part of local society for years. Wearing a lightweight long-sleeved shirt to hide his bandages, Brian moved through the restaurant with his usual brisk confidence, showing no sign of weakness from his adventures Sunday afternoon.
Raylene and Jonathan were waiting at a table when Genae and Brian finally made their way across the room. Jonathan glanced up from the menu he’d been studying, “Well, if it isn’t ’millionaire investor Brian Littrell and his frequent companion.’”
“Very funny,” Genae said, sliding into the chair Brian held for her.
“Isn’t it strange that every article phrases that exactly the same way?” Raylene mused. “Is there, like, an official stylebook that tells reporters how to refer to well-known people?”
Brian shrugged as he took his own seat. “It just becomes habit. Once someone has been ’labeled’ by a reporter, the others repeat the label by rote.”
“Just as Jonathan is always referred to as Brian’s ‘close friend and business associate,’” Genae pointed out, repaying Jonathan for that “frequent companion” reminder.
Jonathan nodded. “Better than some things they could call me. I’m hungry. Anyone have a recommendation for a good dish here?”
They spent the next few minutes discussing the menu, then placed their orders. While they waited for their food to be served, they carried on the conversation over glasses of wine and slices of herbed bread dipped in olive oil and pepper.
Genae noted that Brian quickly changed the subject whenever his injuries or the rescue during which he’d incurred them were mentioned. It was obvious that he wanted to put that incident behind him. He was certainly not one to bask in his own heroics. He successfully diverted the conversation by asking Raylene how the wedding plans were coming along. Raylene happily obliged.
They were all well into their meal when someone suddenly slapped Brian on the back, hard enough to nearly knock him from his chair. Because they’d been so involved in their food and conversation, none of them had noticed the man’s approach until he struck Brian. Jonathan started to rise, his expression dark, his body poised for trouble, but Brian motioned him back to his seat after a glance over his shoulder.
“Hello, Peter,” he said, and Genae detected little pleasure in his voice.
“Littrell. Hope I didn’t hurt you just now. I forgot you got yourself injured over the weekend.”
Genae raised an eyebrow. She disliked the man on sight. Pompous and phony were the first words that jumped into her mind when she looked at him with his designer emblazoned clothes, his flashy gold jewelry and his fluffed-and-sprayed hairpiece. He looked familiar, she thought, narrowing her eyes thoughtfully at him and wondering if she had met him before.
“Everyone, this is Peter McMillan,” Brian said for etiquette’s sake. “Peter’s a local attorney I’ve had some dealings with over the years. Peter, these are my friends Genae Landon, her sister, Raylene and Jonathan Lawver.”
Genae knew who the guy was now. His tacky get-fast-money-for-every-imagined-injury television ads ran frequently on local cable channels. They were so annoying that she always pressed the mute button on her remote control when they came on.
Too bad she didn’t have such a button now.
McMillan looked from Genae to Raylene and back again. “Now, let’s see,” he said. “You were dating this one--” he pointed to Raylene “--and then you switched to this one, right?” His stubby finger stabbed in Genae’s direction.
He was talking to Brian, of course, but everyone stiffened. Jonathan started to rise again; Raylene rested her hand quickly on his arm. He subsided with a low growl and a glare at McMillan.
“Been reading the tabloids, Pete?” Brian asked quietly.
After glancing rather warily at Jonathan, the other man shrugged. “That’s where I find most of my clientele.”
“Doesn’t surprise me. But as it happens, Genae and I have been seeing each other for some time. You’ve made the same careless mistake others have--mixing up the twins.”
“Did I?” McMillan didn’t look convinced, but since there was no way he could prove differently, he settled for a cap-toothed smile. “That’s not hard to do when they’re so identically lovely.”
If he’d hoped to please anyone, he failed. Only stony silence greeted his compliment.
He cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll be seeing you around the courthouse, Littrell. Enjoy your dinner.”
Brian nodded and turned back to his food, apparently putting the other man completely out of his mind.
“I don’t know how you could be civil to that slime,” Jonathan muttered, his own appetite seemingly ruined. “I wanted to punch his smarmy face in.”
“And that would have landed all of us right in the headlines of the gossip rags again. And you in jail.” Raylene reminded her temperamental fiancé. “Brian handled the guy exactly right, cordially sticking with the stock response we’ve all been using for the past few weeks.”
“That rodent is a friend of yours?” Genae asked Brian in disbelief.
“Hardly. I’ve crossed paths with him a few times when his clients tried frivolous lawsuits against some of my business holdings. He’s never won, but I doubt that he’s given up. It galls him that I have money he can’t seem to get his hands on.”
“I’m with Jonathan,” Genae said. “I’d be tempted to punch his teeth down his throat.”
Brian smiled at Raylene, “Bloodthirsty pair we’re involved with, aren’t they?”
Raylene laughed and agreed. Genae turned her frown toward Brian. She started to remind him that he and she weren’t involved, especially not in the same way Raylene and Jonathan were, but the server appeared just then to ask if they would like dessert. The guys ordered sweets; Genae and Raylene both passed.
“I have to fit into a wedding gown in less than three weeks,” Raylene said with a smile.
“And Ill be wearing a snug-fitting bridesmaid’s dress.” Genae agreed.
Brian mugged for Jonathan. “You don’t think this piece of cheesecake will make me look fat in my best man tux, do you?”
“I don’t know.” Jonathan twisted in his chair to look over his shoulder. “I just hope my dessert doesn’t go straight to my butt.”
Because it was so rare for Jonathan to be silly, and especially so soon after he’d been glaring in anger, the others all burst into laughter. Several heads turned at nearby tables to look at them, and Genae was wistfully aware that they must look like two very happy couples. It was unlikely that anyone could tell only one of the pairings was real, or that she and Brian would go separate directions soon.
The thought made her amusement fade, though she made an effort to hold on to her smile--for the sake of the other diners and her companions.
They separated a short while later in the parking lot outside the restaurant. Jonathan and Raylene left in his car, leaving Genae to drive Brian home in the Beamer. She had planned to drop him off at his door and drive away without going inside the house herself. She should have known better than to make any plans where Brian was concerned.
“Come on, Genae, just for a minute.” Brian said as they sat in the car in his driveway. “I would really like you to see the painting I told you about.”
She sighed and turned off the car engine. “All right. But only for a little while. I have some things to do this evening.”
“Of course. It’s just that we can’t discuss the painting unless you’ve seen it first.”
That was true, of course. One of the things she and Brian had in common was a pleasure in art, and they frequently discussed the work of various artists. More often than not they even agreed on what they liked, though when their tastes differed, it was radically. She supposed there was little harm in looking at the painting he wanted her to see, as long as she was careful.
She’d been inside Brian’s house only two or three times, and had never gone beyond the front rooms. She glanced covertly around her as he led her down an art-lined hallway toward the back of the exquisitely decorated house. Each framed work was lit with cleverly placed spotlights, making her feel almost as if she were walking through a museum. Yet there wasn’t a cold or institutional feel to the place; she could rather easily picture herself decorating in just this way--if she had the money, of course.
He led her into a room that made her catch her breath in a wave of sheer envy. She thought of it as a combination library and gallery, with ceiling-high shelves of books interspersed with paintings and sculptures. A cursory glance at the book titles revealed an eclectic mix of titles, just as the artworks represented several artistic styles and disciplines.
“This room is fabulous,” she breathed.
“Thanks...I spend a lot of time in here.”
She glanced at the deep leather chairs scattered comfortably around the room, each accompanied by a reading light. “I imagine you do.”
He crossed the room and motioned to a painting above an antique mahogany library table. “This is the painting I told you about.”
Done in the impressionistic style, the painting depicted the historic Old Mill in nearby North Little Rock, an architecturally significant site that had been shown in the opening scene of the movie Gone With the Wind. The greys and browns of the concrete used to make the mill blended into the blues and greens of the surrounding water and trees. A touch of color in the background hinted at the onset of fall, as if the scene were poised at the brink of changing seasons. The sun seemed to be setting; long shadows deepened the corners of the canvas. “This is wonderful. You said it was painted by a teenager?”
“The son of one of my employees. I was his first paying client.”
“But you won’t be his last,” Genae predicted, imagining the generous sum Brian must have offered for the painting. “He’s very talented.”
“He’ll be even better when he finds his own voice. He’s still experimenting with styles. But I have no doubt he’ll be an important member of the art world in a few years.”
Genae found her attention turning from the painting to the man who owned it. Brian was a study in contrasts. This room was a prime example--mysteries and thrillers spine-to-spine with works on philosophy and economics, master paintings and sculptures displayed alongside the work of an ambitious teenager. It reminded her of the many roles she had seen Brian play--shrewd businessman, charming suitor, smooth operator on the social scene. She thought of his slick handling of the press, his cool rebuff of the obnoxious lawyer at the restaurant, the warmth of his relationship with his friends, and the dangerous look in his eyes when he had confronted the man who’d arranged Raylene’s kidnapping.
He fascinated her. Entirely too much. She pushed her hand through her hair and turned toward the doorway. “Thank you for showing me the painting. I guess I’d better be going now.”
He caught her arm. “What’s your hurry? Wouldn’t you like to stay and have a cup of coffee?”
“No, really. I need to...”
What? She was sure there was something pressing she should do, but nothing was coming to her at the moment. The closer Brian leaned toward her, it seemed the blanker her mind became.
How did he do that to her?
“The truth is,” Brian murmured, reaching up to touch her cheek, “I’m reluctant to see you leave. As I’ve said before, I enjoy being with you.”
She swallowed and told herself to look away from him, but his sparkling sapphire eyes held hers captive. “Brian--”
“Genae,” he said, and lowered his head just a couple inches more, so that his mouth rested lightly on hers.
Her lips brushed his when she tried to speak. “I really should--”
“Stay a little longer? Definitely.”
She shook her head slightly--which turned out to be a mistake since it only increased the pressure of his lips against hers. “I don’t--”
“Want to leave? Then stay.” He ran his hands down her arms, drawing her nearer.
Her mind seemed to be swirling, her thoughts getting all jumbled and confused. “This really isn’t--”
“A time to talk? I absolutely agree,” he said in satisfaction.
He pressed his mouth firmly against hers before she could stammer out any more unfinished inanities.
She could have resisted, of course. She could have pushed him away or turned her head or bolted from the room. All those possibilities, along with a few dozen more, flitted through her mind, but she didn’t act on any of them. Instead she just stood there, her eyes closed and her hands dangling uselessly at her sides.
He kissed her gently at first, his mouth warm and persuasive against hers. It occurred to her that tilting her head just a little to the right would give him better access. She discovered a moment later that she’d been right; this angle was definitely better.
He wrapped his good arm around her and increased the pressure of the kiss until her lips parted instinctively. She should have anticipated that Brian would take immediate advantage of that slight concession. He deepened the kiss, a bit tentatively at first, and then more boldly when he was met with no resistance.
Genae raised her hands to his chest, clutching his shirt. It wasn’t that she was trying to hold him there, she assured herself hazily. It was just that she needed the support; she was suddenly feeling a little dizzy.
Even as she allowed herself to linger in the embrace--even to participate in it--a distant part of her mind searched for rationalizations. She wasn’t sure she could get away with the emotional release excuse again--there hadn’t been any great crises to pump them up today. And she certainly couldn’t claim that Brian hadn’t given her a chance to turn away; he’d certainly initiated the kiss, but he hadn’t forced it. She could have stopped it at any time, and they both knew it.
She hadn’t wanted to stop it.
As it happened, it was Brian who finally lifted his head. He wasn’t smiling when he searched her face. He looked as though he was trying to decide what to say, which she found surprising because words always came so easily for him.
She bit her lower lip, at a loss for words herself. It was getting harder and harder to blithely ignore their kisses, harder to deny the fact that there was an attraction between them that only seemed to grow stronger as they spent more time together. What she didn’t know was whether that attraction was merely physical, at least on Brian’s part. If so, her identical appearance to her sister was definitely a troublesome factor in the equation.
She made herself release his shirt and step back, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jeans. “I’d better go,” she said, wondering why he was so suddenly being quiet.
“It is getting late,” he agreed, which surprised her all over again because she had expected him to urge her to stay a little longer.
She told herself she wasn’t disappointed that he hadn’t--and knew that she was lying.
Brian had already turned toward the door. “I’ll walk you out.”
Hadn’t she just observed to herself that he was a man of contradictions? She studied his back as she followed him down the long hallway, wondering why he had suddenly turned distant and unreadable. What thought had entered his mind to convince him that they should draw back before things got out of hand between them? It depressed her to wonder if he had been thinking of Raylene at the same time Genae had.
“You’ll drive carefully on your way home?” He asked at the door.
“Of course. Don’t worry about your car.”
“You know I’m not concerned about the car.”
“I’ll be careful,” she repeated.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then. We need to talk soon.”
At that moment, she didn’t even want to know what he thought they should talk about. Right then, she just wanted to escape.
She needed to have a long, stern talk with herself.
Something had changed. Brian wasn’t sure when it had happened, but suddenly he found himself thinking of Genae in an all-new way. He’d already been aware of his physical attraction to her, but he had tried to convince himself it was a passing fancy.
The attraction wasn’t passing. Just the opposite, in fact.
After he and Raylene had parted ways, he had decided to reevaluate his plan to marry and start a family within the next year. He’d convinced himself that if it hadn’t worked out with Raylene--the ideal candidate--then it probably wasn’t meant to be at all. Maybe he just wasn’t cut out to be a family man. He should be content with his success in business.
It wasn’t as if he didn’t have female companionship when he wanted it. He just couldn’t see himself spending the rest of his life with any of the women he had dated in the past--not even the one he had proposed to before Raylene. The lovely starlet had seemed so crazy about him--until he’d pulled out the prenuptial agreement his lawyers had prepared. She’d certainly shown her true colors then, making it very clear that she had been more intent on winning his fortune than his heart.
Hadn’t he humiliated himself enough when it came to his awkward attempts at a serious relationship?
When he’d first met Genae, he would have said he couldn’t imagine spending the rest of his life with her, either. Now...
Now he needed to do a great deal of thinking about what he really wanted with her.
Genae drove her own car to work on Wednesday. In a funny sort of way, Brian’s car had begun to represent the man, himself. Sexy, powerful, expensive, eye-catching, addictive. It wasn’t easy going back to her ordinary, functional economy car after driving Brian’s BMW for a few days. And it wasn’t hard to extend that analogy to her collaboration with Brian.
She was getting much too accustomed to having him in her life. To seeing him frequently, hearing his voice on the telephone. Having him touch her. Kiss her. It wouldn’t be easy to go back to her former life without him in it. A life that had been frequently stifling and vaguely unsatisfying before. She didn’t even want to think about what it would be like to return to those predictable routines now.
She had been at work for only an hour or so when her mother called. Raylene had made a bank run, so Genae left Justin in charge of the shop while she took the call in her office. “Hi, Mom.”
“Good morning, honey,” Evelyn Landon, a native of Birmingham, Alabama, replied in her slow, soft drawl, “How’s the business going?”
“Great. We’re putting Bob on full-time starting next week, and we’re hiring another part-time clerk.”
“That sounds good. Maybe with more help, you and Raye can have a little more free time.”
“Maybe. Raylene’s going to want to spend time with Jonathan, of course, and she’ll need the freedom to travel with him when he has to go out of town. Justin and Bob and I will be able to run things when she’s gone, especially if we hire someone else for a few hours a week. We interviewed a woman yesterday who’s looking for ten to twenty hours a week, just to give her something to do while her kids are in school. Raylene and I both liked her, so we’ll probably give her a call later today and offer her the job.”
“Be sure you manage some free time for yourself,” her mother warned. “Raye doesn’t expected you to take on too much responsibility just because she’ll be a newlywed. You have a life of your own to live.”
Really, Mom? And what life is that? The cynical question flashed through Genae’s mind, but she kept it to herself, merely replying, “I know. I won’t overdo it.”
“See that you don’t.”
Genae smoothly changed the subject. “How’s everything there?”
Genae’s parents lived in Searcy, a medium-sized town an hour north of Little Rock. “Your daddy’s arthritis is acting up some, but everything else is fine here. Everyone’s getting ready for the big party.”
Secure in the privacy of her office, Genae made a face. Since Raylene and Jonathan had decided to be married at the church Raylene attended in Little Rock, some of her mother’s long-time friends had decided to hold a pre-wedding party in Searcy this weekend. It would be a big event, to be held at the country club their golf-obsessed father had joined years ago. It would be much more casual than the events Brian attended so often, but Genae wasn’t looking forward to this gala any more than she had the others.
She would know most of the people at this event, unlike the ones she had attended with Brian, at which nearly all other guests were strangers to her. That wasn’t necessarily a good thing. People who had known her since she was in diapers showed no hesitation to comment on her personal life. She expected to field a lot of nosy questions about her relationship and her future with Brian--who, of course, would be accompanying her.
She predicted that several would point out that her 26th birthday was only a few months away, and that she didn’t want to wait too long to start a family. She would hear plenty of broad hints that she and Brian should quickly follow Raylene and Jonathan’s matrimonial example.
She hadn’t minded so much deceiving the press or the society gossips. But she was not looking forward to lying to the people she’d grown up among, talking about a future that wasn’t going to happen. She wasn’t sure her acting skills were good enough to convince her old friends that she and Brian were in love, and had been involved for some time.
Her parents knew the truth, of course. Jonathan had insisted on telling them everything when he and Raylene announced their engagement. Raylene had been very closemouthed about her discussions with Brian before she met Jonathan, and her parents weren’t pleased to hear that she’d been considering a marriage that would have been little more than a convenient, businesslike arrangement.
They had reminded Raylene that they had raised her to understand the purpose and the sanctity of marriage. Just because a man and a woman liked each other and shared a mutual desire for children didn’t mean they should take marriage vows together. It was their mother who had added that a ticking biological clock was no substitute for a rapidly beating heart. Raylene had groaned in response to that overly fanciful analogy--as had Genae--but Raylene had finally convinced their parents that she had come to her senses. She and Jonathan were marrying for all the right reasons.
Like Genae, their parents weren’t happy about the elaborate charade Brian had concocted to divert gossip from his and Raylene’s former relationship, but they understood the reasons behind the scheme. They had seen how bothered Jonathan had been by rumors that he had disloyally pursued a woman who was already involved with his best friend. No one else could have known how hard Jonathan had resisted his feelings for Raylene for that very reason.
Evelyn and Daniel Landon had understood that embarrassment and concern for Jonathan’s feelings had dimmed some of Raylene’s sheer joy in her engagement. They had reluctantly conceded that Brian’s plan was worthwhile if it would draw media attention away from Raylene and Jonathan--and if Genae didn’t mind being the subject of public scrutiny, herself. They had known even as they spoke that Genae would do almost anything for her sister.
“Genae?” Her mother prodded, reminding her that it was her turn to speak. “Are you still there?”
“Oh. Yeah, sorry, Mom. I got distracted for a minute. You said something about the party?”
“Yes. Everything seems to be on track, from what the hostesses have told me. They’re really going all out. Not that it will be anything like those fancy shindigs you and Brian have been attending, of course. I doubt this one will make the national society pages.”
“Good,” Genae said fervently.
“I hope Brian will manage to enjoy himself. He won’t know anyone, of course, and I’m not sure he’s used to small-town society. We aren’t exactly New York City around here. Heck, we aren’t even Little Rock.”
“Don’t worry, Mom. Brian has a good time wherever he goes. And he might have grown up rich, but he still grew up in Arkansas.”
“How is his arm? I’ve been so concerned about him.”
“He’s healing just fine,” Genae assured her, as she had the last two times he’d talked to her mother since Sunday.
“Did you see the new article in the state newspaper today? The interview with that woman whose children he saved? She thinks he’s practically a saint. She went on and on about what a hero he was to risk his own life to save her babies. And she said he’s called to check on them and he’s sent gifts to the children. I’m sure the national media will jump on this story.”
“They already have. And they’re probably embroidering it was we speak,” Genae said wryly. “By the time the tabloids report it, Brian will have saved a dozen kids and suffered grievous injuries, himself.”
“You’re probably right,” Evelyn agreed with a sigh.
“But he really was a hero on Sunday,” Genae added, for honesty’s sake, and because she knew her mother would like hearing it. “I’ve never personally seen a braver act in my whole life.”
“Have the reporters been calling you to ask about what happened?”
“A few called. I’ve simply told them that I’m glad the children are okay, and that I’m also relieved Brian wasn’t seriously hurt. Other than that, I have no comment--which frustrates them to no end, of course.”
“I must say you’re handling all this media attention better than I expected. I was afraid you might grow impatient with the silly speculation and lose that famous temper of yours.”
“It’s been a close call a few times,” Genae admitted. “I just keep reminding myself that this is all for Raye’s sake.”
“And you would do anything for your sister--just as she would for you.” Evelyn obviously took great satisfaction from that observation about her children’s loyalty to each other.
“I’d really better get back to work, Mom. Is there anything else you want to discuss before I go?”
“No. I just wanted to catch up with you. I’ll see you Friday.”
“Yes. Friday.”
“I love you, sweetheart.”
“I love you, too, Mom. Bye.”
Genae hung up the phone, then hid her face in her hands. She had known from the beginning that this plan of Brian’s wasn’t going to be easy. She just hadn’t realized exactly how complicated it would be.
