Dreams of the wedding Zachary and thoughts of the real Zachary filled Wendy’s weekend. She’d been looking forward to Monday so she’d have work to distract her. But there she sat in front of her drafting board, daydreaming her time away.
When she answered the phone, she tried to direct her thoughts to architecture instead of Zachary. That’s why it surprised her when she heard a warm, friendly voice say, “Hi, Wendy. It’s Zachary Van Buren. How does this afternoon look?”
She couldn’t keep the grin from spreading over her face, like a silly schoolgirl who had been anxiously awaiting his call. Which, wrong as it was, didn’t stop it one iota. She cleared her throat to remove the quiver from her voice. “This afternoon?”
“For a meeting on the house.”
“Oh, right.”
“Sorry to push the timeline, but I’m going out of town soon, and I want to finalize the details.”
So his wife doesn’t go behind his back again. “Gotcha.” She glanced at her calendar. “Three o’clock works.”
“Great, we’ll see you then.”
We? She couldn’t bury the disappointment quickly enough. Her conscience tersely reminded her that his wife should, indeed, be at the meeting, even if she was a pain in the neck.
Still, when the receptionist announced their arrival later, she couldn’t help feeling cloudy when she saw Ramona sitting in the lobby with Zachary, albeit separately. And their expressions couldn’t have been more different. His was warm as he extended his hand toward Wendy. Ramona’s was more like a spoiled child who hadn’t gotten her way at the toy store. Or with the house plans.
Wendy didn’t extend her hand to Ramona, merely greeted her and led them to the conference room. It amazed her that just knowing Zachary followed caused her legs to forget how to move properly. Thank goodness her father hadn’t put the conference room at the end of the hallway.
She was glad she’d worn her full-length cashmere sweater, and even happier that she’d put on her fancy, black stockings as she caught Zachary looking at her legs.
“What we’ve decided,” he said when they settled at the table, “is to strike a balance between old and new. The outside of the house will stay relatively the same, except for a general rejuvenation.”
Throughout the meeting, Ramona kept looking from Zachary to Wendy, as though searching for some sign of attraction. Wendy could still hear her voice: Just remember what you're risking if you play. Bound and chained. What hold did she have on him?
At one point, Wendy and Zachary leaned over the plans together to discuss a tiny detail in the kitchen. She watched his finger trace a line along the cabinets as he suggested a different layout. She followed that line with her finger.
“The plumbing will have to be moved, but I don’t see any problem with that…idea.” She’d looked up to find him only an inch away. Her heartbeat sped up as their eyes locked, and a strange buzzing started in her ears.
Ramona cleared her throat. “Is the kitchen issue settled then? I believe that was the last item on the list.”
Wendy took a deep breath in an attempt to clear away the trembling his closeness had caused, but the fragrance of his aftershave filled her nose and made it worse. Lordy, she’d forgotten Ramona was even in the room. Wendy turned her attention to rolling up the house plans, making sure all of the pages were perfectly even. “I’ll see what I can come up with using these new ideas, and once I meet with the contractor, I’ll get right to work on them.” She kept her hands around the plans, avoiding another handshake with Zachary.
“When can we expect the final set of plans?” Ramona asked.
“It depends on how quickly the preliminary phase goes. Probably in about four weeks.”
“Four weeks?” Ramona asked, a whiny quality in her sandpaper voice.
Zachary was already steering his wife toward the door. “Thanks, Wendy. Let me know what the contractor says.”
“I will. And let me know about the wood flooring.”
“Zack, I really think carpet would be much nicer,” Ramona said, rehashing her earlier argument for getting rid of it. “That old wood is so dull.”
“That dull flooring is worth a lot of money, not to mention that it blows carpeting away in the looks department,” Zachary said. “Plus, it lends the openness of the space that you’re looking for.”
Ramona didn’t appear to be impressed.
After Wendy walked them to the front door, she returned to the conference room to turn off the lights. Zachary’s aftershave lingered, and she wondered if she would ever be able to get him out of her mind once this project was finished. And the sooner that happened, the better.
When the contractor’s call jarred Wendy from her daydreams Wednesday morning, it reminded her that she still had a lot of work to do on the Van Buren house plans.
You’re just stalling, to prolong the chances of running into Zachary.
Of course, I’m not. That would be wrong on many levels, she told her annoying conscience.
Doesn’t make it untrue, though.
Heck, maybe she was drawing out the process. This was so unlike her, so wrong of her. If she hadn’t been dreaming of the man, this would be a non-issue. Handsome, yum. Married, done. But there was much more to this situation, and that’s why she couldn’t let him go. Something that transcended time itself. And that thought drove her crazy because she didn’t think thoughts like that.
Now that the engineer had fit her into his schedule, the process should move along faster. Which was absolutely a good thing.
As the time approached to meet the engineer at the house, she pulled her coat tightly around her and stepped outside. The day looked deceptively balmy from inside the warm confines of her office, but reality seized her as she walked into the bright sun and frigid air. She breathed it in, the chill filling her lungs and tightening her skin.
Traffic was light on the road that lazily wound its way toward the Van Buren place. She loved this drive with its magnificent estate homes on either side of the road. Just as she settled into a relaxed state of mind, a sputtering noise from the engine broke her mood. The car paused, leaving her with a momentary fear that it might die right there in the middle of the road. The car revived just long enough for her to think the stall a fluke when it coughed again and, without further ado, died.
“Damn, damn, damn! What in the world could be wrong with this thing? It’s a new car!”
She pushed the start button, and it came to life, but then dwindled to silence just as she pulled off the road. Banging on the steering wheel didn’t help and neither did yelling. After her brief tantrum, she decided that staying calm would serve her best. A search in her purse made her realize that she’d left her cell phone charging on the kitchen counter.
After finding no reasonable problem listed in the owner’s manual, she stepped out and lifted the hood. Was the engine supposed to be that hot? And there were noises. Clicking, ticking noises. Were they normal? She sighed in frustration, vowing to take a basic mechanics course as soon as she had time. No, she would make time.
A green Porsche, coming from the direction in which she had been heading, whizzed by her and turned around the next bend. Had she seen brake lights flash just before it disappeared, she wondered with alarm. Sure, she needed assistance, but she was a prime target for any weirdo at the moment. She glanced around for the nearest house, but it was more than a scream away. After a few moments, she decided the car had continued on, but before she could even sigh from relief, it reappeared and pulled off the other side of the road. As she debated pulling out her pepper spray, the man in the Porsche stepped out.
She didn’t have a moment’s warning to keep the enormous grin from stretching across her face. Zachary stuffed his hands into his jean pockets as he walked across the road toward her. His surprised smile greeted her warmly, and fleeting thoughts of destiny filled her mind. But destiny was for winged horses, not married men.
“I thought that was you,” he called. “No one in their right mind should have car trouble in this weather.”
Even a curt mental reminder of his marital status couldn’t quell the tightness inside. “It’s the car that’s not in its right mind.” Or me. “Boy am I glad to see you. I mean, you never know who might stop to help you these days.”
He grinned, raising an eyebrow. “And what makes you think I’m so safe?”
Her heart thrummed. It wasn’t physical harm that worried her, and she suspected that wasn’t what he implied either.
“Oh, I don’t know. I guess it’s just a feeling. Are you safe, dear sir?” She pressed her hands into a prayer position.
He seemed to laugh at his own implications, then became serious. “More so than I want to be. Now, what seems to be the problem? I’m no mechanic, but this thing has to be simpler than my baby over there.”
The first part of his statement threw her—safer than he wanted to be?—but he was waiting for her to tell him the car’s symptoms. She described the car’s last dying moans, and he pulled on various wires, checking the battery cables and peering into a few crevices looking for cracked or broken hoses. He emerged with a perplexed expression.
“No luck finding the problem?” Wendy was actually disappointed that it hadn’t taken him longer to assess the situation. She’d enjoyed assessing the view of his blue-jeaned derriere as he leaned over the engine. She had spared a glance, however, to take note that he wore no wedding band. If she were married to him, she’d have neon signs installed over his head. Married! Married! Married!
“I think your problem is beyond my basic skills. Have you had the car long?” he asked.
“I bought it new four months ago and haven’t had a problem with it until today. In fact, until just a few minutes ago.”
“Hmm. Wish I could help you. I’ve been meaning to take one of those basic car care courses.”
A tingling sensation filled her, like emotional champagne. “That’s funny, I was just thinking that when I lifted the hood and looked at all that stuff underneath.”
He smiled. “Well, maybe we can do it together. Take the course, I mean.”
She felt her eyes sparkling—not a good thing to feel, she reminded herself. “I’d love that. I—it would be nice to know someone in class.” She dropped her gaze to the ground, unable to hold his another second.
“You probably have roadside assistance, but I’ll call my Triple-A. They’re usually faster.” After a few minutes, he returned. “You have about an hour’s wait. There’s a café back aways. Would you like to have a coffee with me?”
Not wise, her moral voice warned. “I don’t want to take your time.”
“I can’t think of a better way to spend an hour.”
She smiled nervously, chastising herself for licking her lips. “Sounds good to me.”
After they’d ordered coffee and notified the tow truck company where to find them, they found a small table by the front window. Wendy scooted forward, and their knees brushed. She overreacted by jerking back, then had to fight not to roll her eyes at herself. Sheesh, what am I, thirteen?
He seemed untroubled, at least unaffected, as he leaned back in his chair. As though physical contact was completely normal. “I hope I didn’t throw you off, stopping by your place last week. It’s probably inappropriate to show up unannounced at your architect’s house. But maybe not as much as making you leave by starting an argument with Ramona.”
Wendy hoped he didn’t know she’d been listening to the rest of that strange argument. “No biggie on either one. I understand your being upset about her changing the design plans.” She watched the ice cubes dance in the glass she stirred. “So, do you have wood flooring or carpet?”
Again, he gave her the smile that had the most devastating effect on her insides. “The wood flooring stays.”
“Ah, she doesn’t get her way all the time, then.” At his surprised look, she added, “You said she had ways of getting what she wants.”
Something in his eyes glittered for a second, hard as a diamond. “That she does. But the house is mine.”
The clerk called Zachary’s name, and he went to the counter to retrieve their coffees. What is your deal, Zachary? Why are you married to a woman with whom you're obviously unhappy? She wished she could ask him, but what good would it do? She thought she saw the same frustration in his eyes that roiled inside her heart.
His long fingers toyed with the stir stick as he contemplated her. “I feel like I’ve known you for years. It sounds strange, I know. The first time I saw you, I experienced that jolt you get when you unexpectedly see someone from your past. Or maybe from a dream. That’s why I asked if we’d met before. I don’t usually remember my dreams, and it sounds so corny, anyway.”
Dream. He’d mentioned dreams. Wendy felt dizzy, a flush warming her face. “Doesn’t sound corny to me.”
“Maybe if I borrow your Pegasus, I’ll remember my dreams. Or how to dream.” His gaze reached intently into hers, searching for something—perhaps understanding, perhaps the link that connected their spirits. She felt as though she were touching his very soul. He shook his head and pulled his gaze away to stare at the lake behind her. “This must sound like a come on, but honestly it’s not.”
“I know,” she said in almost a whisper.
A tornado gusted inside her, sucking her words and thoughts into its wild whirlwind. Her insides wound tighter and tighter. She studied the man across from her with blatant disregard for permitted looking time, unable to pull her gaze away.
While the tornado whipped her thoughts into a mindless hum, she could see his soft black hair as it wound through her fingers. She could feel her lips grazing over the curves of his face, could taste the sweetness of his mouth. She experienced all of these things as if they had actually happened—as if they were happening now.
She blinked to bring herself back to the table, back to reality. Her first fear was that she had actually been doing those things to him, right there at the table. But as she came out of her strange trance, she saw that she had remained in her seat across from him. When she placed her cool hand against her cheek, she could feel the heat on her skin. She looked around the cafe, forcing her eyes back in focus. Tables, chairs, couple getting cozy in the corner…reality.
“Are you all right?” he asked. “Do you want to go outside for some fresh air?”
His concern warmed her, but how could she explain what had just happened? She didn’t know herself.
“No, I…I’m fine. Maybe I’m coming down with a cold or something.”
“Are you sure? You looked pretty out of it.”
“I’m fine. Really.” Her face still felt hot and flushed. Was it from the strange experience, or the thought of touching him that returned to her mind? It’s not fair to be this affected by a married man. This would drive her crazy if she didn’t find out why he stayed with Ramona when he was unhappy with her.
“Do you have any children?” she asked, hoping it came out casually.
He’d taken a sip of coffee and started coughing. Okay, maybe not so casual after all.
When he gained control of his coughing, he rubbed the bridge of his nose and looked out the window for a second. “I should be used to the question by now. No, we don’t have kids. Why do you ask?”
She shrugged. “Just wondered. It’s such a big house, and a great place to raise them. Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” Well, she had actually. One more reason an unhappy couple stayed together marked off her list. “Or throw you off.”
“It wasn’t the question so much as the thought of throwing kids into the mix. And picturing Ramona as a mother.” He shuddered. “She has no maternal instinct, as you can probably imagine. Which makes it divine intervention that she can’t have children.”
Wendy decided not to comment on that, though she did get hung up on the words divine intervention. That’s what she needed. “How long have you and Ramona been married?”
He broke the stir stick with a soft crack. “Two and a half years.”
What else could bind a man to a woman? Money? He didn’t strike her as money hungry, so maybe he’d run into financial trouble that required a bailout.
“What was Ramona’s maiden name? My father knew a wealthy family down in Boston, and they had a daughter named Ramona.”
His fingers mangled the stick more with each question. “No, her parents were originally from Connecticut. The Bakers.” He tossed the shreds to the table and finished his coffee, a signal that he was finished with the topic.
If only she could ask the most important question: Why are you with Ramona? Wendy had to find out what hold the woman had on him. But what good would it do? She couldn’t change the past.
A voice from the front door boomed, “Is there a Zachary Van Buren here?”
Zachary waved the gangly man over to the table. “You must be the tow truck driver.”
“Sure am. Name’s Dan. Understand you’re having some car trouble.”
“Actually, my wife is. Her car’s down the road a few miles. Here’s my Emergency Road Repair card.”
Wendy’s heart jumped. Wife?
Dan wrote down the numbers from the card and handed it back to Zachary. Then he turned to Wendy. “Okay, Mrs. Van Buren. Do you want to ride back to your car with me?”
Zachary spoke up. “No, we’ll meet you there. Just follow us.” Giving her a play along wink, he helped her with her coat, and they walked to his car.
“Wife?” She hoped he didn’t catch the tremor in her voice.
“I have a road service contract that covers immediate family. Since you can’t be my daughter, that leaves my wife. I didn’t think about it until the guy showed, that I needed to make you my wife.” Before he closed the door, he leaned in and asked, “You don’t mind, do you?”
“I…uh, no.” Their eyes locked. “Not at all.”
Her heart cried out at the unfairness of meeting a man she could fall completely in love with and not being able to have him. Now he hovered so close, his gaze sliding just for a second to her mouth, that she didn’t think she could bear any more.
Perhaps he sensed that because he pushed away. He stole glimpses at her as he drove, and when their glances crossed, she could see her frustration reflected in his eyes.
“Were you going out to the house?” he asked, breaking up the silence.
“Yep. I needed to take some additional notes before I start the plans. Were you coming from the house?”
“Sure was. I just went to…I don’t know why I went out there. I just needed to be there, I guess.”
A chill washed over her, layering her skin with goose bumps. As they pulled to the side of the road, she looked at her car. If it hadn’t broken down, she would have missed him. It was as though some force was pulling them together, pulling her toward a man whose fate seemed padlocked with Ramona. If only she had the key to that lock…
“You have the key, right?”
She stared at Zachary in disbelief. “What?”
He pointed to where Dan stood waiting for her car key. She shook her head, her face heating with embarrassment.
Zachary touched her shoulder. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
Gathering her purse, she turned to him, aware of his touch on so many levels that it boggled her mind. “Yeah, it’s in my purse. I just never have to pull it out with the new push-button start.” His expression revealed he didn’t believe her. “I’m fine. Really,” she said. “Goodbye, Zachary. Thank you for all your help.”
Now his face revealed astonishment. “Goodbye? What kind of husband would I be to leave my wife alone with some strange man?” His voice dropped to a whisper as he leaned close. “He could be some kind of maniac.”
She closed her eyes at the soft brush of his breath on her ear before gathering herself to comprehend his words. He was kidding, of course, about the maniac part, but she still felt relieved that Zachary was going to stay with her. Of course, she had to admit that her feelings went beyond relief and into ecstatic and other crazy sensations. She would remember these moments as his wife for a long time to come.
After a brief inspection, Dan was undecided about the problem and began hooking her car up to the tow truck. Zachary insisted on taking her to the service station rather than letting her ride with Dan.
“Shouldn’t take long to figure out once I hook it up to the diagnostic machine,” Dan said once they got to the service station. “Have a seat in the lounge, make yourself comfortable.” He headed out to the shop.
“Want me to stay?” Zachary asked.
As much as she wanted more time with Zachary, she shook her head. “I think I’m safe here from any free-roaming maniacs,” she said with a smile. Ah hah! Sometimes sensibilities do conquer emotions!
Dan came back in, a phone cradled between his shoulder and ear. “Let me check on that for you.” He started rifling through the papers on his desk.
“Well, babe, I have to get back to work.” Zachary subtly nodded toward Dan, then leaned over and gently brushed his lips on her cheek. “Give me a call if you need me to pick you up. I’ll be here in a heartbeat.”
She watched him drive away, the warmth of his lips still lingering on her skin, the word babe ringing in her ears. Ringing so much that Dan startled her when he asked, “Uh, Mrs. Van Buren? Did you hear me?”
She spun around. “No, sorry.”
“I said there’s coffee in the lounge.” He waved toward a small office with cracked vinyl seats and chuckled. “Must be honeymooners, eh? I remember those days, being all googly-eyed and spaced out.”
“Mm, yeah.” She floated to the lounge in a daze. Being Zachary’s wife felt so natural, so right. Even when he’d said wife, he spoke it with warmth. Not the stiff way he said it in reference to Ramona. She ran everything that had happened through her mind, trying to make sense of it.
Dan’s voice cut into her thoughts. “Ma’am? It’s the craziest thing, but I can’t find a thing wrong with your car. It’s running fine now.”
“I thought it was strange that it died since it’s new.”
“Well, it’s lucky your husband happened to be driving by.”
“It was lucky, wasn’t it?”
But was it luck? Or divine intervention?