“And you fell in love.” Juliet wore a dreamy expression, and Victoria didn’t have the heart to disillusion her.
She searched for something to say that wouldn’t make their marriage sound like a cold, convenient arrangement.
Juliet took Frank’s other hand. “Your father has been wanting to call you. He’s got something to ask you.” A smile lit up her cheerful round face, and Victoria found herself warming more and more to the other woman. She had a brisk lightheartedness that was contagious.
“Juliet wants us to get married.” Her father’s eyes were oddly anxious as he waited for her response.
What did he expect her to do? Refuse permission? She would never do that. Even though she believed Juliet ought to be warned what she was getting herself into.
But it wasn’t apprehension that lurked in his eyes. It was something infinitely more basic.…
Her father wanted her approval.
Deep within her something gave. He’d never sought her approval before.
“That’s wonderful,” she said. “When will the wedding be?”
The lines around his eyes eased fractionally. “I’ve still got to propose. Maybe Juliet won’t have me.”
“It’s been difficult enough to get you to this point, so I’m hardly likely to bolt now.” Despite her tart tone, Juliet’s eyes overflowed with emotion, tears not far away. “You silly, stubborn man. You had to almost die before you saw sense. Now you’d better hurry up and ask.”
“Worried I might croak?”
“Don’t joke about dying.” Juliet gave a visible shiver then leaned across the bed and brushed her lips across his furrowed brow. “There’s nothing remotely funny about it.”
“You could do so much better, my dear,” Frank whispered and Victoria’s own eyes grew dewy.
“Don’t sell yourself short, honey.” Juliet straightened. “Now hurry up, before the nurse comes back and chases us all out. I’ve got witnesses now, so you won’t be able to back out later.”
Victoria exchanged looks with Connor—his eyes were gleaming with humor.
“Juliet, my dear, I’ve wasted a lot of time because I was afraid I’d let you down. I’m certainly no Romeo, but you will bring light to my life if you marry me.”
A funny sensation shot through Victoria.
Juliet loved her father. The emotion in her glowing eyes was unmistakable as she gazed at Frank. But Victoria’s stomach hollowed out at the certainty that Juliet was heading for heartbreak.
Her father wasn’t capable of living up to anyone’s love. He’d even admitted that he hadn’t wanted to propose because he knew he would let Juliet down.
Yet before she could protest she heard Juliet reply, “Of course I’ll marry you, Frank. Tomorrow if you wish. You only ever had to ask.”
Chapter Twelve
It was midnight by the time Connor pushed open the front door. The coolness of the night had already settled like a blanket over the house. As they crossed the darkened entrance hall, Victoria finally broke the silence that had clung to her like a heavy pall on the way home.
“You were right,” she said listlessly, “I should’ve invited him—them—to the wedding.”
“Victoria, you couldn’t have known—”
“He called me. He wanted to see me more often. I told him I didn’t believe we could sustain a relationship.” She glanced at Connor. “I was afraid, in case he walked away like he’d always done.”
“You think he’s going to let Juliet down, too, don’t you?”
She spread her hands. “I hope not. But I don’t know. He doesn’t have a good track record at staying—or being responsible. But to be fair, my mother didn’t try very hard either. She just gave up. I thought that was what loving someone meant. Pain and unhappiness.”
“Don’t underestimate Juliet. There’s toughness under that merry cheerfulness.”
“She’d better be made of steel to survive my father.”
There was no bitterness. It was what she genuinely believed. He considered her. “Frank was a bad father.”
“Yes. Between him and my mother, I was determined never to have to rely on someone for money or love. But I don’t think they ever loved each other—they got married because of me.”
Was that why she was so desperate to be successful? Connor wondered. Or was it independence rather than success that she craved? That rang more true. If she could take care of herself, she wouldn’t need to be reliant on a father … or a husband. Suddenly a lot made sense.
It was possible, too, that she saw Dylan as the opportunity to relive her own upbringing. This time with a happy ending.
In a moment of clarity Connor recognized that Victoria had never anticipated a happy ending for herself—her parents had seen to that. Yet she’d married him. He ached for her. She’d chosen to move in with a man she despised rather than leave Dylan vulnerable.
She had backbone all right, this wife of his.
He opened his arms. “Your father is going to be okay. Come, let me hold you.”
“I don’t know whether my father and I can ever find common ground. But I won’t close this door on him again.” She came into his arms without hesitation.
Connor started off intending to give comfort, and found instead that by holding her close, her warmth and softness filled a chasm that he hadn’t even been aware of having.
Last time she’d asked to be held, he hadn’t been ready. He’d been too full of grief.
But now he was ready.
Slowly he inhaled her sweet, feminine scent and realized that he never wanted to let her go. That she had crept into his life, into his heart. That she had become a part of him.
By the time she pulled away, Connor knew that the healing had finally begun.
Victoria stepped into Bridget Edge’s office the following morning and shut the door behind her with a gentle thud. She’d given much thought to what she was about to do. After the shock of her father’s heart attack and Connor’s surprising tenderness in the aftermath, she’d come to the conclusion it was the only option open to her.
Entering the large office that was the domain of the managing partner made her feel a little like a schoolgirl appearing in front of the head mistress. And the steely look in Bridget’s gaze did little to ease the butterflies already fluttering in Victoria’s stomach.
Taking a deep breath, she said, “Bridget, I’ve come to give you my resignation.”
“Have a seat.” Bridget waved to the chair opposite her, barely glancing at the white envelope Victoria set down on the desk. “You’re very valuable to us. Why do you want to leave?”
With a sigh, Victoria settled into the chair. “I need some time to straighten my life out. We’ll also need to sort out what’s to be done about my share in the partnership.”
The older woman took off her stylish, dark-rimmed glasses and set them down on her gleaming cherrywood desk. “You’ve been under a great deal of emotional stress—and your role here at Archer, Cameron & Edge is very demanding.”
Victoria nodded, relieved that Bridget understood her position. “I’m failing Dylan, too.”
“And Connor North?” Bridget’s brows rose. “Where does he fit in?”
That was the most difficult question of all. Victoria wasn’t sure of the answer herself.
Oh, Connor. Closing her eyes, she said, “He thinks I’m a terrible mother.”
And not the wife he wanted. What was going to happen to their marriage still needed to be resolved, and Victoria wasn’t looking forward to that discussion, either. Connor had been tiptoeing around her sensibilities since the news of her father’s heart attack, and hadn’t raised the subject again. But despite his gentleness, it would have to be dealt with.
Victoria hoped that her resignation from ACE would make Connor reconsider, that it would convince him how seriously she took her commitment to mothering Dylan.
“It’s far from easy juggling a demanding career and being the perfect wife and mother. We women have such high expectations of ourselves.”
Victoria gave a tired laugh, and opened her eyes. “You can say that again. I had such grand intentions.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Victoria.” Bridget sat forward in her tall leather chair. “It’s been a traumatic time for you—inheriting a baby, acquiring a husband and keeping up with your workload. I’m quite a fan of yours, you know.”
Staring at Bridget in disbelief, she said slowly, “No, I didn’t know. I thought I’d disappointed you, too.”
“Not at all.” Bridget gave her a smile. “I admired you two years ago when you told me that you were going to be an egg donor so that your best friend could have a baby. You were worried that I would be unhappy because the process would take time from your work.”
“Yes.” She’d been very concerned. Being a donor had been physically and emotionally taxing and had taken up time that had cut into her workday. “But you never objected once—aside from suggesting that I have counseling to make sure that I would be able to separate myself from the baby once it was born.”
“At the time I thought it unlikely that you would ever have children—you didn’t seem to have much of a life outside work. I thought that the baby might be your only one.”
Victoria watched as Bridget glanced at a photo on her desk, then back at her.
“You probably don’t know I was engaged once.”
“No, I didn’t.” Victoria had perceived Bridget as having no life away from ACE Accounting. She couldn’t help wondering what had gone wrong with the engagement.
Bridget must have seen the questions in her eyes. “We were touring, on a motorcycle. He drove, I rode pillion. There was an accident—an oncoming driver overtaking recklessly. They told me I was lucky. I broke my back—he died.”
The image of Bridget young, on holiday and riding a motorcycle with her lover shifted Victoria’s entire perception of her. “I’m so sorry.”
“It was almost twenty-five years ago.” Bridget gave her a small smile. “I got over it. But, as you may realize, what I have isn’t the life I imagined for myself. I pictured myself at fifty-five with a happy marriage, children all grown up and a successful career. I thought I would have it all.”
Sadness for the other woman filled Victoria. “Thank you for sharing this.”
“I want you to know that I understand a little of what you may be feeling. Loss and emptiness are terrible things. You lost your friend. But you have a baby—and a husband. Enjoy them. Resign if you must. But if your husband knows you as he should, he won’t want you to give up your career for him, or even for the baby. If he loves you, he’d want you to find a solution that lets you have it all, without stressing you to death in the process.” Another smile softened the words. “But I’ll accept your resignation, if that’s what you decide you really want.”
Victoria felt infinitely lighter, as though a load of expectation had been taken from her shoulders. She started to thank Bridget but the other woman interrupted her.
“Of course, there is another option that may bear thinking about. Why don’t we rearrange your hours? Perhaps you can come in three days a week? Or five mornings? It’ll be easy to organize, now that you’ve hired a junior accountant to help you.”
“But partners have to work full time—it’s in my contract,” Victoria protested.
“Archer, Cameron & Edge wouldn’t want to lose you, Victoria.” Bridget gave her a wink. “Particularly when there’s a chance that we might secure the account of the Phoenix Corporation. Reducing hours wouldn’t even impact on your profit share—I’d make sure of that.”
Victoria couldn’t help it, she laughed.
“You didn’t think this was all about philanthropy, did you?”
But Victoria had seen under the frigid exterior. A bond had been forged between them today that she knew would endure. A peculiar friendship. Bridget was not the hard-nosed harridan she always appeared to be.
Rising to her feet, Victoria picked up the envelope that still lay unopened on the desk. “I’ll think about cutting back my hours. It might be a solution.” If she could convince Connor that it would give her more time to spend with Dylan, and lessen her office load, there was a possibility that if could work.
Was there a chance that she could truly have it all?
“Good.” Bridget picked up her glasses and put them back on. “It will give you a chance to get through this time—and through the next few years.” She peered over the rims of her glasses. “I take it you will be having another child or two?”
Victoria gaped. “I—we—haven’t talked about that.” Connor had been determined to get her out of his life … not pregnant with his baby. That dampened her newly discovered optimism.
Bridget raised her brows. “Well, perhaps it’s time you did.”
Victoria left work early the next afternoon and dropped by the hospital to be greeted by the news that her father would be discharged the following day.
Both Frank and Juliet were thrilled.
“It’s a cause for celebration,” said Juliet. “And not the only celebration today, I believe. Surprise!”
Juliet whipped a bunch of wildflowers brightly wrapped in colored cellophane out of the bathroom.
Her father started to sing an off-key “Happy Birthday” and Victoria stared at them both in stunned disbelief.
“How did you …? You remembered,” she said, when she found her voice.
“I have a lot to make up for, Victoria. I forgot too many birthdays when you were growing up. Never again.” Frank met her eyes squarely. “Sometimes I wasn’t even … there.”