The Marrying Kind. Judy Christenberry

him a chance to stop her. She scooped up her purse and stormed from the restaurant.

      HE’D BLOWN IT.

      It hadn’t been his intention to send her running. He’d simply said what had come to mind.

      Diane Black was unlike his other dinner dates, who dabbled in careers or made one out of fund-raising for charities and planning socialite balls. She was a working woman, and he didn’t know how to act around that ilk.

      Besides, she had only given him what he deserved. He had been a bear, dragging her along to dinner, too intent on getting it over with to really listen to what she’d been trying to say.

      He sighed, staring at her empty seat. He truly hated eating alone.

      An idea formed. He asked the waiter to wrap up their meals, and left him a sizable tip.

      Fifteen minutes later, he arrived back at the fourplex. As he pulled into the parking lot, he was pleased to see Diane’s car. Now all he had to figure out was which apartment was hers.

      He reached the door with his stack of take-out boxes just as the door was shoved opened and four very attractive young women came out. One of them stopped to stare at John.

      “Hello. Are you lost?”

      “No. I’m here to see Diane.”

      “Oh. Well, she’s home. She came in a few minutes ago.”

      “Which one is she in?”

      “Upstairs on the right.”

      “Thanks.” He hurried up the steps.

      Knocking on the appropriate door, he waited until it opened, then grinned, holding up the redolent boxes. “Hi. I brought dinner.”

      Diane didn’t return the smile. “No, thank you. I’m fixing dinner already.”

      “Come on, Diane. There’s no point in letting this go to waste.”

      She glanced down and drew in a deep breath, the delicious aroma breaking her resolve. “Fine. Which ones belong to me?”

      “Oh, no, you don’t. Either I come in with the boxes or they don’t come in.”

      “Fine,” she said again. But instead of opening the door wider, she closed it and he heard the lock click into place.

      “Diane! Diane, you’re not being fair. Come on, open the door.”

      He was answered with silence.

      “Diane, I want to have dinner with you. I’ve already paid for it. The least you can do is share it with me.”

      After a few minutes of banging on her door and calling out to her, to no avail, he returned to his car. He sat there in the car eating his meal…and hers, too. But he saw no sign of her.

      Finally, he drove home, questioning why he had hung around waiting for her to acknowledge him. He had a lot of women after him, didn’t he? So why had he waited for her to forgive him?

      He hadn’t found an answer by the time he reached home. The housekeeper greeted him, wanting to know if he needed a snack before he went to bed.

      “No, Mrs. Walker, thank you. I hope you didn’t wait up for me.”

      “No, of course not, Mr. Davis. I hadn’t gone to bed yet.”

      He smiled at her and continued up the stairs. Of course she hadn’t gone to bed. It was only eight o’clock. What was wrong with him?

      Tomorrow would be a different day. He could face his father without feeling guilty. And he wouldn’t have to explain that his date had been the one to call a halt to the evening.

      Maybe that was what bothered him more than anything. She hadn’t wanted him! Most of the women after him wanted him because of his wealth, of course, but even that didn’t tempt Diane.

      Had he gotten lazy? John didn’t think he’d ever angered a woman enough that she gave him up. But maybe he needed to be more careful about how he treated women. He certainly hadn’t learned that from his father, who was currently on wife number five, a woman younger than John.

      With a sigh, he entered the master suite and began undressing. He’d get in bed and watch some television. That would take his mind off the infuriating Diane Black.

      Sure it would.

      DIANE STUDIED HER wardrobe the next morning. It was full of black and gray suits—what she’d learned early on constituted professional dress for a banker, male or female. The only color was an occasional muted pastel blouse. Today she actually yearned for a red jacket.

      Maybe she’d go shopping tonight. After all, her position was safe, wasn’t it? She could occasionally break the rules if she still looked professional.

      She didn’t want to question the sudden need to stand out. That would force her to think about the aggravating man she’d met last night. John Davis had irritated her more than anyone she’d ever met. Especially when she remembered that her bank, quite a large institution, had backed several of his recent projects.

      Of course, he hadn’t recognized her, because she wasn’t involved in loans. So he wouldn’t know how to get in touch with her. And that was for the best.

      She dressed in a pearl-gray suit with a silk blouse in silvery tones. It was one of her favorite outfits, and she needed her spirits lifted.

      When she reached the bank, she was her normal quiet self, calm and pleasant. Her blond hair was pinned back neatly, the only nod to femininity her discreet silver earrings.

      Once she was seated behind her desk, Diane relaxed and began her normal routine. She loved her job and understood how important it was for her customers.

      In fact, today she was taking one of her clients to lunch. Mrs. Winthrop was a dear. Her husband had made a fortune, but since his death ten years ago Mrs. Winthrop had been relying on Diane to keep the fortune intact so as to provide for her grandchildren.

      Diane was making sure that she didn’t invest the woman’s money in any risky stocks. She wanted the same thing as Mrs. Winthrop.

      In fact, she had some projections to run before lunch. It was time to focus on the people who mattered.

      And get her mind off John Davis.

      OKAY, SO THE ARRIVAL of morning hadn’t removed Diane Black from his mind. John dressed for work, thinking about the woman who’d rejected him last evening. But it wasn’t because she’d dumped him. About midnight he’d finally admitted that he’d brought that rejection on himself. He’d been arrogant.

      He’d complimented women all his life. It was how he got around them, got them to do what he wanted. But he’d been angry last night. He’d tried to force her to his will. And been irritated when she hadn’t done as he’d wanted.

      Guilt had washed through him when he realized it. He felt like an insensitive clod stomping on a delicate flower. He wanted to apologize.

      So, after he reached his office, he took out a phone book and began calling all the small banks, asking for a VP named Diane Black. By lunchtime, he’d had no luck. Had she lied to him?

      If she had, it was his fault. He’d made it impossible for her to admit to having a lowly position.

      Maybe his personal banker would know where Diane was. He was having lunch with Mark Golan today to discuss a new project for which he needed funding.

      While he’d always handled his projects successfully, John wanted to be sure he had all his ducks in a row. So he put Diane from his mind and gathered up the various drawings and charts for his presentation. That was one thing he had learned from his father—to be the consummate professional. His personal life might be a wreck, but not his business life.

      Which meant his father had the money to pay for all his mistakes, in the form of alimony for each of his three former wives.