Love 'N' Marriage

“Is it his leg?”

 

 

“I beg your pardon?” The horn-rimmed glasses that balanced so precariously at the tip of the secretary’s nose threatened to slide off. Bertha rescued them in the nick of time. “I don’t understand your question.”

 

“Jonas is often irritable and cranky when his leg is hurting him.”

 

“No, it’s not his leg, Ms. Coulter. It’s you. First thing this morning, I asked about you. When Mr. Lockwood brought you into the office yesterday, it was apparent there’d been some trouble. You were shaking like a frightened rabbit and... well, the minute I said your name, Mr. Lockwood nearly bit my head off. He said if I cared about my job I was to forget I’d ever met you. I’ve been with Mr. Lockwood for a good number of years, and I have never seen him like he was this morning. From the looks of it, I’d say he didn’t go home last night.”

 

A sense of urgency filled Stephanie. “It’s imperative that I talk to him.”

 

“I have my instructions, but quite honestly, Ms. Coulter, I don’t believe I can go through—”

 

“Ms. Westheimer.” Jonas’s voice boomed over the intercom, startling both women. “Just how much longer am I to be kept waiting for the Westinghouse file?”

 

Stephanie’s heart pounded frantically at the cold, hard sound of Jonas’s voice. She’d thought she’d seen him in every mood imaginable. He could be unreasonable and flippant, but she had never known him to be deliberately cruel. Judging from the edge in his voice, she didn’t doubt he was capable of anything this day.

 

“Right away, sir,” Bertha answered quickly. She raised her head and whispered to Stephanie. “It would be better if you came back another day... perhaps tomorrow, when he’s had a chance to mull things over.”

 

“No,” Stephanie countered, and shook her head for emphasis. “It’s now or never.” Squaring her shoulders, she picked up the file he’d requested. It was on the corner of Bertha’s desk. “I’ll take this to him.”

 

Bertha half rose from her chair, indecision etched in her pointed features. “I... can’t let you do that.”

 

“You can, and you will,’’ Stephanie told her just as firmly.

 

Slumping back into her chair, Bertha shook her head slowly and shut her eyes. “I hope I’m doing the right thing.”

 

With her hand on the knob of the door that led to Jonas’s office, Stephanie hesitated for a second, then pushed open the door. With quick firm steps, she marched across the plush carpeting and placed the file folder on Jonas’s desk. Jonas was busy writing and didn’t glance in her direction.

 

“I believe you asked for this,” she said softly.

 

His head flew up so fast that for a moment she wondered if he’d given himself whiplash.

 

“Get out!”

 

The harsh words cut through Stephanie, but she refused to give in to the pain. “Not until you tell me what’s going on. Jan Michaels gave me the most ridiculous message this morning. If you want to end our engagement, I have the right to know why.”

 

His finger pointed viciously at the door. “I’ve had a change of heart. Leave the ring with Ms. Westheimer and get out of my sight.”

 

She winced at the cold, merciless way he looked at her. “It’s not that simple, Jonas,” she said quietly, fighting back her anger and indignation. “I have a right to know what happened. This doesn’t make any sense. One afternoon you love me enough to ask me to share your life, and then you despise me the following morning.”

 

Jonas lowered his gaze, and it looked for a minute as though he was going to snap the pen he was holding in half. His hands clenched and unclenched.

 

“Does it have anything to do with Donald Black?”

 

His eyes shot to hers and narrowed. “No, but perhaps I was hasty in firing the man.”

 

Stephanie decided to let that comment slide. “Then what possible explanation could there be?”

 

He rose slowly from his chair and braced his hands on the side of the desk, leaning forward. His eyes were as blue as a glacier and just as cold. “An interesting thing happened on my way out of the office yesterday afternoon. I heard howls of laughter coming from a group of male employees. By pure chance, I happened to overhear how Stephanie Coulter had managed to pull off the feat of the century. A mere secretary had won the heart of the company president. Apparently some money was riding on just how quickly you could make a fool of me.”

 

Stephanie blanched, wanting to crawl into a hole, shrivel up and die. “Jonas, I...”

 

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