Evan insisted on taking her to dinner that night to celebrate. A victory gala, he told her. He chose a restaurant well known for its superb food and service, and Jessica knew when they were seated that she was the envy of every woman there. Evan had never looked more handsome or been more charming.
They were leaving the restaurant, waiting for the valet to bring around Evan’s car, when a news photographer stopped them and took their picture. Jessica protested, but Evan told her that this was the price of fame and she might as well smile.
The next morning, Jessica’s mother phoned before she’d had a chance to awake, and hours before she’d intended to. She was extremely depressed, and sleep was the perfect escape.
“Jessica, have you seen it?” Joyce demanded, her voice raised with excitement. “I’ve already called the newspaper and am having them make copies for Lois and me. You both look fabulous.”
“Seen what, Mother?” was the groggy reply.
“The newspaper, sweetheart. There’s a picture of you and Evan on the society page with a nice little write-up. In case you didn’t see it, your name was mentioned in the gossip column, too, on Thursday, linking you with Evan. Oh, honey, I’m so pleased.”
“Oh, Lord,” Jessica whispered, her mind clouded with exhaustion. “I remember now. A photographer stopped us last night.”
“Yes, I know, that’s what I’ve been telling you. The picture’s in this morning’s paper. I’m thrilled and so is your father, not to mention Lois and Walter.”
Jessica was anything but thrilled. “It’s only a picture, Mom.”
“It’s more than that, Jessica. It’s a dream come true for you, and for me, too. You’ve always felt so strongly about Evan and now, after all these years, he feels the same way about you.”
“Mother, you don’t understand, Evan and I—”
“You don’t know how pleased Lois and I are. We realize it’s much too soon to be making wedding plans, but it’s the sort of thing good friends love to do when their children are dating. You’re our only daughter, and I can tell you right now this will be the gala event of the year. Your father and I insist.”
She only paused long enough to take a breath, then rushed on, “We’d be so very pleased if you and Evan decided to have an autumn wedding. Lois has been my friend for so many years, and to think that someday we might share grandchildren! It does both our hearts good.”
Jessica rubbed a hand over her eyes, repressing the urge to weep. “Mom…”
“I don’t mean to pressure you.”
“I know you don’t.”
“Good. I’m sorry I woke you, darling. I should have realized you’d be exhausted after this last week. Go back to sleep. We’ll talk later.”
Sleep was impossible now. Jessica padded barefoot into the kitchen and made coffee, standing at the counter until the liquid had drained into the glass pot. Then she poured herself a mug, and cradling it in both hands, sat at her kitchen table. Balancing her feet against the edge of the chair, her knees propped up under her chin, she waited until the coffee had cooled enough for a first sip. It did little to revive her sagging spirits, settling unsatisfactorily in the pit of her stomach while she mulled over what she was going to do.
Already it had started, already she could feel the ropes tightening around her heart, binding her. She felt imprisoned by what everyone believed was right for her, what everyone believed she wanted herself, when in reality she loved Damian, not Evan.
The phone startled her, and she swore as she spilled coffee on her hands. “Hello,” she snapped, grabbing the receiver.
“What the hell’s going on?” Cathy demanded, sounding full of righteous indignation.
“Excuse me!” The last thing she needed was her best friend’s accusations.
“I picked up the paper this morning, and there’s your bright smiling face to greet me.”
“So I understand,” she muttered.
“There’s something wrong with this picture, though. You’re with the wrong brother. Care to explain?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Jessica sighed. “It’s a long story.”
“Condense it.”
She sighed again. “Evan’s decided to come out of his doldrums—”
“About time, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yes, definitely, but he isn’t doing this for himself. His father’s running for political office and so Evan’s making an effort to smile and put on a happy face.”
“By dating you.”
“It seems so.”
“I know all about his father. Walter Dryden’s name’s been splashed across the headlines all week, right along with Evan’s and Earl Kress’s,” Cathy said impatiently. “So cut to the chase and tell me why you were out on the town with Evan and not Damian.”
A simple explanation was beyond Jessica. This was the most complicated misadventure of her life. “You were wrong, Cath,” she said miserably. “Damian isn’t nearly as fond of me as you assumed. Otherwise he would have said something long before now.”
“Said something about what?” Cathy yelped.
“Caring about me,” she whispered miserably. She felt as though she was standing chest deep in quicksand with no chance of getting free.
Cathy groaned. “All right, I can see this tale of woe isn’t something you’re going to be able to abbreviate. Start at the beginning and be sure you tell me everything.”
To her credit, Cathy listened attentively to the events of the week, all that had ensued since Jessica’s conversation with Evan on Monday morning. When Jessica finished, Cathy was uncharacteristically silent.
“I see what you mean,” she said finally, sounding none too happy herself. “Damian’s caught between a rock and a hard place. He’s crazy about you, Jess. My instincts told me that the day we had lunch.”
“But apparently not crazy enough.” Jessica closed her eyes to the sharp pain the thought produced.
“Wrong,” Cathy corrected defensively. “Damian’s got a sense of family and duty so strong he’d sacrifice his own happiness. That’s not loving you too little, my friend, that’s loving you—and Evan—too damn much.”
“If that’s the case, then why do I feel like leaping off a bridge? My mother and Lois Dryden are talking about a wedding and grandchildren.”
Cathy let the comment pass. “How often do you see Evan?”
“Every day—we work together, remember?”
“I meant socially.”
That wasn’t a fair question. Because of the trial they’d been together for the better part of each evening, as well as every day. Lunch and dinner had been haphazard affairs while they discussed different aspects of the case and their strategies. It was business, nothing more. He hadn’t so much as held her hand.
“We’ve been seeing a good deal of each other,” Jessica said, and then explained.
“I see, and how do you feel about Evan now?”
“I’m glad he’s trying to get his life together. But he isn’t attracted to me, and doesn’t pretend to be, either.”
“Then why haven’t you said something to Damian? Why haven’t you explained?”
“How could I?” Jessica protested tartly. It wasn’t that she hadn’t thought of doing so a hundred times. “First off, we were both heavily involved in the Earl Kress case. The timing was wrong. I might have said something over dinner last night if Damian had given me any encouragement, but he didn’t. I can’t help thinking you’re wrong about us.”
“We’ve already been through that,” Cathy muttered in frustration.
“I know Evan is dating me for show. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d arranged for that photographer himself. It’s the sort of thing he’d do.”
“Aren’t you afraid he’ll fall in love with you?”
“No. His heart is so battered it’ll be a good long while before he takes a chance on love again.”
Cathy was uncharacteristically quiet. “His family’s important to him, the
same way yours is to you. So play this hand close to your chest, Jess. Vulnerable as he is just now, Evan might develop a deep…affection for you. That would be a disaster.”
This was something Jessica had worried about earlier, and she was greatly relieved that their relationship had turned out to be strictly platonic. “You’re certainly filled with happy suggestions.”
Cathy ignored that, too. “When are you seeing him again?”
“Tomorrow afternoon. He’s picking me up for a fund-raiser for his father. It’s a picnic.” She dreaded the entire affair. If it wasn’t for the opportunity of seeing Damian, she’d have found an excuse not to attend.
“Have fun.”
“Right,” Jessica said, knowing fun would be impossible.
After she’d hung up the phone, Jessica took a shower. She stood under the hard spray, letting the water hammer at her face. When she’d finished she felt better—and filled with purpose.
EVAN ARRIVED to pick her up early the next day. He wore a white sweater with a blue braid along the V-shaped neckline. He looked stylish and debonair, very Ivy League casual. His eyes lit up when he saw her in her cheery summer dress with the short white jacket.
“I can’t get over what a beauty you grew up to be.”
“You always were a silver-tongued devil,” Jessica teased. He was in a good mood, and he had a right to be after the success of the previous week.
Evan’s sports car was parked right in front of her building. He held open the door for her and helped her inside. They chatted amiably on the ride to Whispering Willows, where the fund-raising picnic was being held. The area was decorated with banners and American flags, and there was even a small grandstand and a band.
Jessica was determined to find a chance to talk to Damian, to explain her feelings. He couldn’t avoid her forever.
Jessica’s parents were there, handing out small American flags to the guests. Rows of folding chairs were set up in front of the grandstand for Walter Dryden’s speech.
Everyone was busy with one picnic task or another. Jessica helped where she could, keeping her eye out for Damian.
She was busy dishing up potato salad alongside Evan when she first saw Damian. He was talking to an older woman and happened to look in Jessica’s direction. Their eyes met for the briefest of seconds before he quickly averted his gaze. Jessica swallowed the pain that constricted her throat.
After the food had been served, Walter Dryden strolled up to Jessica. He was a big man, strong in build and, she knew, equally strong in character. He hugged her and thanked her for all her help.
“You’ve grown into a beautiful young woman, Jessica.” His deep voice echoed what Evan had said to her earlier.
“Thank you. I don’t know if I’ve had a chance to tell you how pleased I am that you’ve decided to run for senator,” she said.
“I wish I’d started my campaign much sooner. I’m going to be stuck playing catch-up the next couple of months, which means a lot of hard work.”
“You’re exactly what this state needs,” Jessica said sincerely.
“Your confidence means a lot to me.” They were strolling together side by side. “I’ve been doing some hard thinking along those lines myself. About how you’re exactly what my son needs.”
“I’m sorry?”
“You and Evan.”
Jessica didn’t know what to say. She should have explained then and there that it was Damian she loved, but her throat went dry and her tongue seemed glued to the roof of her mouth.
“He needs you,” Walter Dryden repeated.
“He’s going to be just fine, Mr. Dryden. I don’t think you should worry about him.”
Walter Dryden’s nod was somber. “Lois and I believe you’re responsible for that.”
The taste of panic filled her mouth. “I’m sure that’s not true.”
“Nonsense. You have to learn how to accept a compliment, young lady. It’ll serve you well later in life—Evan, too, for that matter.” He paused, his look thoughtful. “I believe my son will eventually enter politics himself. He’s a natural, but he isn’t ready yet and probably won’t be for several years. I’ve had to bite my tongue not to sway that son of mine, but Lois would never forgive me if I pushed him toward something he didn’t want.”
Jessica hoped he felt the same way about forcing Evan into an unwanted relationship.
“We’re getting off the subject,” Walter muttered, with a shake of his head. “I wanted to thank you, my dear, for helping Evan.”
“But I haven’t.”
“Nonsense. You’ve made all the difference in the world to my son these last few weeks. I’d mentioned to Damian that you and I had talked and you’d be coming in for an interview. His decision to hire you was brilliant. I couldn’t have thought of anything better for Evan myself.”
“I have a lot to thank Damian for,” Jessica said, so softly she doubted Walter heard her.
“Ah, here you are,” Evan declared, coming up behind them. “Don’t tell me my own father is stealing away my favorite girl.”
Walter chuckled. “Not likely, son. You two enjoy yourselves now. You’ve both worked hard all afternoon. Take a break, sneak away and have fun.”
“But your speech…” Jessica protested.
“No matter. You can hear me speak any day of the week. Now off with you.”
Evan reached for her hand, and they walked along the outskirts of the grandstand area. They were moving toward a stand of weeping willow trees, and Jessica found that Evan’s mood had changed subtly. He seemed troubled. She waited for him to broach the problem.
“Do you mind if we take a few minutes to talk?” he said after a moment.
“I’d like that.” Her heart swelled with relief. What they needed was a healthy dose of honesty. She stopped and leaned against the trunk of a tree. They were partially hidden from view, and the privacy was welcome.
“I don’t feel that you and I are connecting, Jessica.”
“I know.” She thought about her mother and all her talk about a wedding and grandchildren. Her mind drifted back to the conversation she’d had with Evan’s father moments earlier. Everything had gone much too far.
“I’ve wanted to talk to you all week, but everything was so hectic, what with the trial and Dad announcing his candidacy.”
“It was quite a week,” Jessica agreed.
“Our names have been linked in the newspaper.”
“Your name’s often in the paper.” He was from one of Boston’s most prominent families, after all.
Evan chuckled. “That’s true enough.” He reached for her hand then, holding it between his own. “I’d like all that speculation about us to change. I’m ready to settle down with one woman.”
Jessica’s heart stopped beating. If he proposed marriage, she swore she was going to break down and weep. Everything and everyone seemed to be working against her, including her own parents.
“I…I’ve always been fond of you, Evan, but I think it’s only fair for you to know—”
“‘Fond’ is such a weak word,” he interrupted, frowning.
She didn’t want to walk over his already bruised ego. “I know, but—”
“Do you realize we haven’t even kissed?” He smiled, his eyes twinkling with boyish eagerness. “That’s about to be corrected, sweet Jessica.” He placed his hands on both sides of her face and, before she could protest, lowered his mouth to hers.
It was a gentle kiss, undemanding and tender. Jessica felt nothing, except an increasing desire to cry. How could she feel anything for Evan when she cared so deeply for Damian? When she loved Damian?
Evan lifted his head from hers and gazed down at her, his eyes now dark and unreadable. He studied her for a moment. “I won’t pressure you, Jessica. We’ll give this time.” He brushed a stray curl from her cheek and kissed her there, his lips warm and moist against her face.
It was then that Jessica saw Damian. He was standing on the edge of the crowd that had gat
hered to hear Walter’s speech. His eyes were on Jessica and Evan. When he realized she’d seen him, he turned and walked away. His steps were brisk and hurried as though he couldn’t move fast enough.
For one wild moment, Jessica considered running after him, but Evan had put one arm possessively around her shoulders and was leading her back toward the grandstand.
It was too late.
Seven
“Well?” Cathy demanded without a word of greeting as Jessica opened the apartment door to her friend Sunday evening. Cathy swept her backpack from her shoulder and carelessly tossed it aside. “How’d the picnic go?”
“Politically it was a success. From what I understand, Mr. Dryden raised a lot of money for his campaign.” She was avoiding the issue and knew it, but the subject of Evan and Damian had become too painful even to think about.
Cathy knew her well enough to recognize the signs. “Sit down,” she instructed, pointing at the overstuffed chair that was Jessica’s favorite spot. Her friend became downright dictatorial whenever she felt strongly about something; apparently, she did now.
Jessica followed Cathy’s orders simply because she didn’t have the force of will to argue. Settling into the chair, she waited while Cathy paced the carpet in front of her. Jessica could almost hear her friend’s brain waves crackling.
“I’ve been giving this matter some thought,” Cathy began.
“I can see that,” Jessica returned, wondering what Cathy’s feverish mind had concocted this time.
“I want you to develop a limp,” Cathy said. She sounded as though this was a stroke of pure genius.
Jessica wanted to laugh out loud. “You’re joking, right? Because heaven knows I can’t take you seriously.”
“I’m dead serious, but I only want you to limp when Damian’s around, not Evan.”
Jessica shook her head, as though that would improve her hearing. For sheer lunacy, this idea ranked right up there with the luncheon invitation. “What possible reason would I have to do something as stupid as fake a limp?”