Be My Valentine (13 page)

“Parker came to your place?” Jo Ann sounded awestruck, as though Bailey had experienced a heavenly visitation.

Bailey didn't know what was wrong with Jo Ann. She wasn't letting her get a word in edgewise. “I made the mistake of telling him about the wedding dress in my closet. And at first I think he assumed I was married.”

Jo Ann came to an abrupt halt. Her eyes narrowed. “There's a wedding dress in your closet?”

Bailey had forgotten she'd never told Jo Ann about Paul and Tom. She felt neither the inclination nor the desire to explain now, especially on a cold February day in the middle of a busy San Francisco sidewalk.

“My, my, will you look at the time?” Bailey muttered, staring down at her watch. It was half-past frustration and thirty minutes to despair. The only way she could easily extricate herself from this mess was to leave—now.

“Oh, no, you don't, Bailey York,” Jo Ann cried, grasping her forearm. “You're not walking away from me yet. Not without filling me in first.”

“It's nothing. I was engaged.”

“When? Recently?”

“Yes and no,” Bailey responded cryptically with a longing glance at her office building two blocks south.

“What does that mean?” Jo Ann demanded.

“I was engaged to be married twice, and both times the man walked out on me. All right? Are you satisfied now?”

Her explanation didn't seem to appease Jo Ann. “Twice? But what's any of this got to do with Parker? It wasn't his fault those other guys dumped you, was it?”

“Of course not,” Bailey snapped, completely exasperated. She'd lost her patience. It had been a mistake to ever mention the man's name. Jo Ann had become Parker's greatest advocate. Never mind that she was also
her
good friend and if she was going to champion anyone, it should be Bailey. However, in Jo Ann's starry-eyed view, Parker apparently could do no wrong.

“He assumed you were married?”

“Don't worry, I explained everything,” she said calmly. “Listen, we're going to be late for work. I'll talk to you later.”

“You bet you will. You've got a lot more explaining to do.” She took a couple of steps, walking backward, staring at Bailey. “You were engaged? To different men each time?” she repeated. “Two different men?”

Bailey nodded and held up two fingers as they continued to back away from each other. “Two times, two different men.”

Unexpectedly Jo Ann's face broke into a wide smile. “You know what they say, don't you? Third time's the charm, and if Parker Davidson is anything, it's charming. Talk to you this evening.” With a quick wave, her friend turned and hurried down the street.

 

By lunchtime, Bailey decided the day was going to be a disaster. She'd misfiled an important folder, accidentally disconnected a client on the phone and worst of all spent two hours typing up a brief, then pressed the wrong key and lost the entire document. Following the fiasco with the computer, she took an early lunch and decided to walk off her frustration.

Either by accident or unconscious design—she couldn't decide which—Bailey found herself outside Parker's office building. She gazed at it for several minutes, wavering with indecision. She wanted to ask him what he'd meant about losing someone he loved. It was either that or spend the second half of the day infuriating her boss and annoying important clients. She was disappointed in Parker, she decided. He shouldn't have walked away without explaining. It wasn't fair. He'd been willing enough to listen to the humiliating details of
her
love life, but hadn't shared his own pain.

Roseanne Snyder, the firm's receptionist, brightened when Bailey walked into the office. “Oh, Ms. York, it's good to see you again.”

“Thank you,” Bailey answered, responding naturally to the warm welcome.

“Is Mr. Davidson expecting you?” The receptionist was flipping through the pages of the engagement calendar. “I'm terribly sorry if I—”

“No, no,” Bailey said, stepping close to the older woman's desk. “I wasn't even sure Parker would be in.”

“He is, and I know he'd be pleased to see you. Just go on back and I'll tell him you're coming. You know the way, don't you?” She turned in her chair and pointed down the hallway. “Mr. Davidson's office is the last door on your left.”

Bailey hesitated, more doubtful than ever that showing up like this was the right thing to do. She would have left, crept quietly away, if Roseanne hadn't spoken into the intercom just then and gleefully announced her presence.

Before Bailey could react, Parker's office door opened. He waited there, hands in his pockets, leaning indolently against the frame.

Fortifying her resolve, she hurried toward him. He moved aside and closed the door when she entered. Once again she was struck by the dramatically beautiful view of the bay, but she couldn't allow that to deter her from her purpose.

“This is an unexpected surprise,” Parker said.

Her nerves were on edge, and her words were more forceful than she intended. “That was a rotten thing you did.”

“What? Kissing you? Honestly, Bailey are we going to go through all that again? You've got to stop lying to yourself.”

“My day's a complete waste,” she said, clenching her hands, “and this has nothing to do with our kiss.”

“It doesn't?”

She sank down in a chair. “I dragged my pride through the mud of despair for you,” she said dramatically.

He blinked as though she'd completely lost him.

“All right,” she admitted with a flip of her hand, “that may be a little on the purple side.”

“Purple?”

“Purple prose.” Oh, it was so irritating having to explain everything to him. “Do you think I enjoy sharing my disgrace? It isn't every woman who'd willingly dig up the most painful episodes in her past and confess them to you. It wasn't easy, you know.”

Parker walked around to his side of the desk, sat down and rubbed the side of his jaw. “Does this conversation have anything to do with the slightly used wedding dress?”

“Yes,” she returned indignantly. “Oh, it was perfectly acceptable for me to describe how two—not one, mind you, but two—different men dumped me practically at the altar steps.”

The amusement faded from Parker's eyes. “I realize that.”

“No, you don't,” she said, “otherwise you'd never have left on that parting shot.”

“Parting shot?”

She shut her eyes for a moment and prayed for patience. “As you were leaving, you oh-so-casually mentioned something about losing someone you loved. Why was it fine for me to share my humiliation but not for you? I'm disappointed and—” Her throat closed before she could finish.

Parker was strangely quiet. His eyes held hers, his look somber. “You're right. That was rude of me, and I don't have any excuse.”

“Oh, but you do,” she said dryly. She should have known. He was a hero, wasn't he? She shook her head, angry with herself as much as with him.

“I do?” Parker countered.

“Yes, I should've figured it out sooner. Heroes often have a difficult time exposing their vulnerabilities. Obviously this…woman you loved wounded your pride. She unmasked your vulnerability. Believe me, I know about that from experience. You don't have to explain it to me.” She stood up to go, guiltily aware that she'd judged Parker too harshly.

“But you're right,” he argued. “You shared a deep part of yourself and I should have been willing to do the same. It was unfair of me to leave the way I did.”

“Perhaps, but it was true to character.” She would have said a quick goodbye and walked out the door if not for the pain that suddenly entered his eyes.

“I'll tell you. It's only fair that you know. Sit down.”

Bailey did as he requested, watching him carefully.

Parker smiled, but this wasn't the winsome smile she was accustomed to seeing. This was a strained smile, almost a grimace.

“Her name was Maria. I met her while I was traveling in Spain about fifteen years ago. We were both so young and in love. I wanted to marry her, bring her back with me to the States, but her family…well, suffice it to say her family didn't want their daughter marrying a foreigner. Several hundred years of tradition and pride stood between us, and when Maria was forced to choose between her family and me, she chose to remain in Madrid.” He paused, shrugging one shoulder. “She did the right thing, I realize that now, much as it hurt at the time. I also realize how difficult her decision must have been. I learned a few months later that she'd married someone far more acceptable to her family than an American student.”

“I'm sorry.”

He shook his head as though to dispel the memories. “There's no reason you should be. Although I loved her a great deal, the relationship would never have lasted. Maria would've been miserable in this country. I understand now how perceptive she was.”

“She loved you.”

“Yes,” he said. “She loved me as much as she dared, but in the end duty and family were more important to her than love.”

Bailey didn't know what to say. Her heart ached for the young man who had lost his love, and yet she couldn't help admiring the brave woman who had sacrificed her heart for her family and her deepest beliefs.

“I think what hurt the most was that she married someone else so soon afterward,” Parker added.

“Paul and Tom got married, too…I think.” Bailey understood his pain well.

The office was quiet for a moment, until Parker broke the silence. “Are we going to sit around and mope all afternoon? Or are you going to let me take you to lunch?”

Bailey smiled. “I think you might be able to talk me into it.” Her morning had been miserable, but the afternoon looked much brighter now. She got to her feet, still smiling at Parker. “One thing I've learned over the years is that you can't allow misery to interfere with mealtimes.”

Parker laughed and the robust sound of it was contagious. “I have a small surprise for you,” he told her, reaching inside his suit pocket. “I was going to save it for later, but now seems more fitting.” He handed her two tickets.

Bailey stared at them, speechless.

“The Pops concert,” Parker said. “They're having a rock group from the sixties perform. It seems only fitting that Janice and Michael attend.”

I
t wasn't until they'd finished lunch that Bailey noticed what a good time she was having with Parker. They'd sat across the table from each other and chatted like old friends. Bailey had never felt more at ease with him, nor had she ever allowed herself to be more open. Her emotions had undergone a gradual but profound change.

Fear and caution had been replaced by genuine contentment. And by hope.

After lunch they strolled through Union Square tossing breadcrumbs to the greedy pigeons. The early-morning fog had burned away and the sun was out in a rare display of brilliance. The square was filled with tourists, groups of old men and office workers taking an outdoor lunch. Bailey loved Union Square. Being there now, with Parker, seemed especially…fitting. And not just because Janice and Michael did the same thing in chapter six!

He was more relaxed with her, as well. He talked freely about himself, something he'd never done before. He was the oldest of three boys and the only one still unmarried.

“I'm the baby of the family,” Bailey explained. “Pampered and spoiled. Overprotected, I'm afraid. My parents tried hard to dissuade me from moving to California.” She paused.

“What made you leave Oregon?”

Bailey waited for the tightness that always gripped her heart when she thought of Tom, but it didn't come. It simply wasn't there anymore.

“Tom,” she admitted, glancing down at the squawking birds, fighting over crumbs.

“He was fiancé number two?” Parker's hands were locked behind his back as they strolled along the paved pathway.

Bailey couldn't resist wondering if he'd hidden his hands to keep from touching her. “I met Tom a couple of years after…Paul. He was, is, a junior partner in the law firm where I worked as a paralegal. We'd been dating off and on for several months, nothing serious for either of us. Then we got involved in a case together and ended up spending a lot of time in each other's company. Within three months we were engaged.”

Parker placed his hand lightly on her shoulder as though to lend her support. She smiled up at him in appreciation. “Actually it doesn't hurt as much to talk about it now.” Time did heal all wounds, or as she preferred to think, time wounds all heels.

“I'm not sure when he met Sandra,” she continued. “For all I know, they might have been childhood sweethearts. What I do remember is that we were only a few weeks away from the wedding. The invitations were all finished and waiting to be picked up at the printer's when Tom told me there was someone else.”

“Were you surprised?”

“Shocked. In retrospect, I suppose I should have recognized the signs, but I'd been completely wrapped up in preparing for the wedding—shopping with my bridesmaids for their dresses, arranging for the flowers, things like that. In fact, I was so busy picking out china patterns I didn't even notice that my fiancé had fallen out of love with me.”

“You make it sound as though it was your fault.”

Bailey shrugged. “In some ways I think it was. I'm willing to admit that now, to see my own faults. But that doesn't make up for the fact that he was engaged to me and seeing another woman on the sly.”

“No, it doesn't,” Parker agreed. “What did you say when he told you?” By now, his hand was clasping her shoulder and she was leaning into him. The weight of her humiliation no longer seemed as crushing, but it was still there, and talking about it produced a flood of emotions she hadn't wanted to face. It was ironic that she could do so now, after all this time, and with another man.

“Have you forgiven him?”

Bailey paused and nudged a fallen leaf with the toe of her shoe. “Yes. Hating him, even disliking him, takes too much energy. He was truly sorry. By the time he talked to me, I think poor Tom was completely and utterly miserable. He tried so hard to avoid doing or saying anything to hurt me. I swear it took him fifteen minutes to get around to telling me he wanted to call off the wedding and another thirty to confess that there was someone else. I remember the sick feeling in my stomach. It was like coming down with a bad case of the flu, having all the symptoms hit me at once.” Her mind returned to that dreadful day and how she'd sat and stared at Tom in shocked disbelief. He'd been so uncomfortable, gazing at his hands, guilt and confusion muffling his voice.

“I didn't cry,” Bailey recalled. “I wasn't even angry, at least not at first. I don't think I felt any emotion.” She gave Parker a chagrined smile. “In retrospect I realize my pride wouldn't allow it. What I do remember is that I said the most nonsensical things.”

“Like what?”

Bailey's gaze wandered down the pathway. “I told him I expected him to pay for the invitations. We'd had them embossed with gold, which had been considerably more expensive. Besides, I was already out the money for the wedding dress.”

“Ah, the infamous slightly used wedding dress.”

“It was expensive!”

“I know,” Parker said, his eyes tender. “Actually you were just being practical.”

“I don't know what I was being. It's crazy the way the mind works in situations like that. I remember thinking that Paul and Tom must have been acquainted with each other. I was convinced the two of them had plotted together, which was utterly ridiculous.”

“I take it you decided to move to San Francisco after Tom broke the engagement.”

She nodded. “Within a matter of hours I'd given my notice at the law firm and was making plans to move.”

“Why San Francisco?”

“You know,” she said, laughing lightly, “I'm not really sure. I'd visited the area several times over the years and the weather was always rotten. Mark Twain wrote somewhere that the worst winter he ever spent was a summer in San Francisco. I guess the city, with its overcast skies and foggy mornings, suited my mood. I couldn't have tolerated bright sunny days and moonlit nights in the weeks after I left Oregon.”

“What happened to Tom?”

“What do you mean?” Bailey cocked her head to look up at him, taken aback by the question.

“Did he marry Sandra?”

“Heavens, I don't know.”

“Weren't you curious?”

Frankly she hadn't been. He obviously hadn't wanted
her,
and that was the only thing that mattered to Bailey. She'd felt betrayed, humiliated and abandoned. If Tom ever regretted his decision or if things hadn't worked out between him and Sandra, she didn't know. She hadn't stuck around to find out. Furthermore, she wouldn't have cared, not then, anyway.

She'd wanted out. Out of her job, Out of Oregon. Out of her dull life. If she was going to fall in love, why did it have to be with weak men? Men who couldn't make up their minds. Men who fell in and out of love, men who were never sure of what they wanted.

Perhaps it was some flaw in her own character that caused her to choose such men. That was the very reason she'd given up on relationships and dating and the opposite sex in general. And she knew it was also why she enjoyed reading romances, why she enjoyed writing them. Romance fiction offered her the happy ending that had been so absent in her own life.

The novels she read and wrote were about men who were
real
men—strong, traditional, confident men—and everyday women not unlike herself.

She'd been looking for a hero when she stumbled on Parker Davidson. Yes, she could truly say her heart was warming toward him. Warming, nothing! It was
on fire
and had been for weeks, although she'd refused to acknowledge that until now.

Parker's dark eyes caressed hers. “I'm glad you moved to the Bay area.”

“So am I.”

“You won't change your mind, will you?” he asked as they began to walk back. He must have read the confusion in her eyes because he added, “The concert tonight? It's in honor of Valentine's Day.”

“No, I'm looking forward to going.” She hadn't even realized what day this was. Bailey suddenly felt a thrill of excitement at the thought of spending the most romantic evening of the year with Parker Davidson. Although of course it would mean no time to work on
Forever Yours
…

“Think of the concert as research,” Parker said, grinning down at her.

“I will.” A woman could be blinded by eyes as radiant as Parker's. They were alight with the sensitivity and strength of his nature.

“Goodbye,” she said reluctantly, lifting her hand in a small wave.

“Until tonight,” Parker said, sounding equally reluctant to part.

“Tonight,” she repeated softly. She'd seen her pain reflected in his eyes when she told him about Tom. He understood what it was to lose someone you loved, regardless of the circumstances. She sensed that in many ways the two of them were alike. During that short walk around Union Square, Bailey had felt a closeness to Parker, a comfortable and open honesty she'd rarely felt with anyone before.

“I'll pick you up at seven,” he said.

“Perfect.” Bailey was convinced he would have kissed her if they hadn't been standing in such a public place. And she would have let him.

 

The afternoon flew by. Whereas the morning had been excruciatingly slow, filled with one blunder after another, the hours after her lunch with Parker were trouble free. No sooner had she returned to the office than it seemed time to pack up her things and head for the subway.

True to form, Max was there to greet her when she walked in the door. She set her mail, two bills and an ad for the local supermarket, on the kitchen counter, and quickly fed him. Max seemed mildly surprised at her promptness and stared at his food for several minutes, as though he was hesitant about eating it.

Grumbling that it was impossible to please the dratted cat, Bailey stalked into her bedroom, throwing open the closet door.

For some time she did nothing but stare at the contents. She finally made her decision, a printed dress she'd worn when she was in college. The paisley print was bright and cheerful, the skirt widely pleated. The style was slightly dated, but it was the best she could do. If Parker had given her even a day's notice she would have gone out and bought something new. Something red in honor of Valentine's Day.

 

The seats Parker had purchased for the concert at Civic Center were among the best in the house. They were situated in the middle about fifteen rows from the front.

The music was fabulous. Delightful. Romantic. There were classical pieces she recognized, interspersed with soft rock, and a number of popular tunes and “golden oldies.”

The orchestra was spectacular, and being this close to the stage afforded Bailey an opportunity so special she felt tears of appreciation gather in her eyes more than once. Nothing could ever duplicate a live performance.

The warm generous man in her company made everything perfect. At some point, early in the program, Parker reached for her hand. When Bailey's heartbeat finally settled down to a normal rate, she felt an emotion she hadn't experienced in more than a year, not since the day Tom had called off their wedding.

Contentment.
Complete and utter contentment.

She closed her eyes to savor the music and when she opened them again, she saw Parker studying her. She smiled shyly and he smiled back. And at that moment, cymbals clanged. Bailey jumped in her seat as though caught doing something illegal. Parker chuckled and raised her hand to his lips, gently brushing her knuckles with a kiss.

The second group, Hairspray, performed after the intermission. Bailey found their music unfamiliar with the exception of two or three classic rock numbers. But the audience responded enthusiastically to the group's energy and sense of fun. Several people got to their feet, swaying to the music. After a while some couples edged into the aisles and started dancing. Bailey would have liked to join them, but Parker seemed to prefer staying where they were. She couldn't very well leave him sitting there while she sought out a partner. Especially when the only partner she wanted was right beside her.

Eventually nearly everyone around them rose and moved into the aisle, which meant a lot of awkward shifting for Parker and Bailey. She was convinced they were the only couple in the section not on their feet.

She glanced at Parker, but he seemed oblivious to what was happening around them. At one point she thought she heard him grumble about not being able to see the band because of all those people standing.

“Miss?” An older balding man moved into their nearly empty row and tapped Bailey on the shoulder in an effort to get her attention. He wore his shirt open to the navel and had no less than five pounds of gold draped around his neck. Clearly he'd never left the early seventies. “Would you care to dance?”

“Uh…” Bailey certainly hadn't been expecting an invitation. She wasn't entirely confident of the protocol. She'd come with Parker and he might object.

“Go ahead,” Parker said, reassuring her. He actually seemed relieved someone else had asked her. Perhaps he was feeling guilty about not having done so himself, Bailey mused.

She shrugged and stood, glancing his way once more to be sure he didn't mind. He urged her forward with a wave of his hand.

Bailey was disappointed. She wished with all her heart that it was Parker taking her in his arms. Parker, not some stranger.

“Matt Cooper,” the man with the gold chains said, holding out his hand.

“Bailey York.”

He grinned as he slipped his arm around her waist. “There must be something wrong with your date to leave you sitting there.”

“I don't think Parker dances.”

It had been a long while since Bailey had danced, and she wasn't positive she'd even remember how. She needn't have worried. The space was so limited that she couldn't move more than a few inches in any direction.

The next song Hairspray performed was an old rock song from the sixties. Matt surprised her by placing two fingers in his mouth and whistling loudly. The piercing sound cut through music, crowd noises and applause. Despite herself, Bailey laughed.