Marni couldn‘t answer.
“Is Jenna‘s name Ballinger?” she repeated.
Marni looked at her hands, clenched in her lap. She‘d fully understood the implications of her actions when she put Cole‘s name on Jenna‘s birth certificate. Now she wished she hadn‘t been so hopeful and foolhardy. “Yes.” The word came out in a choked whisper.
Marni couldn‘t bear to face Rebecca. The thought of seeing the look on her friend‘s face was simply too much for her to take right now. Marni knew she‘d been a fool; she didn‘t need to see it mirrored in Rebecca‘s eyes.
The phone on Peg‘s desk rang, but Marni knew her secretary wouldn‘t be interrupting them; the red light on Peg‘s phone indicated Marni was not to be disturbed. The air-conditioning system hummed, then sputtered, then resumed its low purr. The clock on the wall ticked, reminding her of a bomb in an old B-movie.
After an eternity, Rebecca finally spoke. “Marni, I hate to tell you this, but I think you should tell him about Jenna.”
Marni sprang from the desk, as if shot from a cannon. “No.”
“Listen to me,” Rebecca pleaded.
“No.” Marni paced the confines of the office like a caged tiger. The sensation of being trapped frightened her almost as much as Cole‘s learning the truth. “It‘s out of the question. I won‘t let him take Jenna away from me.”
Rebecca tossed the legal pad down on Marni‘s desk with a resounding slap. “Dammit, Marni. Would you listen? Sit down.”
Marni plopped into the chair next to Rebecca and crossed her arms over her chest in a defensive gesture. “Okay, I‘m listening.”
“You wanted my legal advice, and I say tell him. If he finds out on his own, he‘s going to be angry. If he‘s angry, he‘ll probably retaliate. How would you feel if the situation were reversed? Tell him, Marni. Explain to him what you just told me. He‘s bound to understand.”
“No.” Marni tapped her foot irritably.
“You‘re not using your head.” Rebecca‘s exasperation was obvious.
Marni stared hard at her friend and, now, lawyer. “I can‘t tell him.”
“Oh, for heaven‘s sake. Would you tell me why?”
“Because I‘m not going to give him a chance to take Jenna away from me.” Marni cringed at the desperation in her voice. God, how she hated this. She hated feeling vulnerable.
Rebecca spoke in a soft voice. “I don‘t think he can or will.”
“I won‘t give him a chance. I can‘t, Rebecca. Carson has made a career out of buying people. Who‘s to say he couldn‘t purchase himself a judge? And how would Jenna feel if she was ripped from her home to live God knows where with a man she doesn‘t even know? Am I supposed to stand by and allow her to be subjected to Carson Ballinger‘s narrow-minded attitudes? He‘d hate Jenna as much as he hated me. I won‘t do that to her.”
“Marni, he isn‘t some forties mobster with judges and politicians in his pocket.”
“You don‘t know him.”
“You‘re not being fair.”
“I don‘t have to be fair,” Marni answered childishly. “I‘m protecting Jenna.”
Rebecca looked at her intently. “Are you? Or are you protecting yourself?”
Marni had no response.
* * *
COLE SET ASIDE THE REPORT he‘d been unable to concentrate on and pushed himself away from the oversized chrome-and-glass desk. Stepping over to the window, he stared out at the evening traffic below and thought about Marni. He wanted to see her again. Now. Tonight. He tried to forget the heat of the kiss they‘d shared at the drive-in restaurant, but he couldn‘t. The memory only served to cause a slow burn in the pit of his stomach. He still needed to know why she‘d left Elk Falls–and him.
She‘d said he would have lost interest in her because she didn‘t fit into his world, but that didn‘t make sense. The Marni he‘d known would have confronted her problems head on. He‘d seen fear in her eyes today, and he couldn‘t begin to understand why. The only thing he did know was he didn‘t want to wait until Monday to be with her again. She must have some free time before then.
Cole reached for the telephone and dialed her office. On the second ring, Marni‘s secretary picked up the phone.
“Ms. Rodgers‘s office. This is Peg.”
Cole could hear the smile in Peg‘s voice. “Peg, this is Cole Ballinger. Is Marni available?”
“She‘s gone for the day. Can I take a message?” Cole detected a hopeful note in Peg‘s voice. If Peg was on his side, then maybe he‘d pull this little stunt off without a hitch. He could only hope.
“No, that‘s okay. I‘ll see her tonight.” A stab of guilt assailed him for lying, but he ignored it. He was determined to see Marni again before the weekend was over.
“I‘m leaving in a minute, but if she phones in, I‘ll tell her you called.”
“Thanks, Peg.” Cole hung up and counted to one hundred. He picked up the phone and redialed the number.
After the third ring, Cole began to think Peg had already left. The woman must have bolted from her desk.
She picked up on the fourth ring.
“Ms. Rodgers‘s office.”
Cole smiled. “Peg, this is Cole Ballinger again. I‘m sorry to bother you, but I can‘t seem to find Marni‘s number. She gave it to me today, but I seem to have lost it.”
“I should really ask Marni first.” Cole noted the hesitation in Peg‘s voice.
What the hell, he thought. No sense stopping now. “I was supposed to pick her up about eight-thirty and I need to let her know I‘ll be late,” he improvised.
Peg was quiet and Cole waited. He could almost imagine her weighing the consequences of releasing Marni‘s home number.
“Have you got a pen?” Peg finally asked.
Cole jotted the number on a scratch pad, thanked Peg and hung up the phone before his luck changed. That had been too easy. He wrote the number on his Rolodex, then placed the slip of paper in his wallet. Dear, sweet Peg. She deserved a raise for her cooperation, or at least a bouquet.
The drive across town took him twenty minutes in Friday evening traffic. He let himself into his quiet, ultramodern apartment, checked his answering machine for messages, then took a cool shower.
Dressed in a worn pair of Levi‘s and a University of Kansas sweatshirt, he glanced at the clock on the bedside table. Six-twenty. Marni had said she lived by the beach. But which beach? Southern California was one long coastline. She could live anywhere from Malibu to Newport. Cole decided she‘d be home in an hour, either way. He snapped on the television on his way to the kitchen, made himself a sandwich, grabbed a Coke from the fridge and went back into the living room to wait.
The phone rang and Cole reached for it. “Hello?”
“How‘s the software end of things, son?” Carson Ballinger‘s baritone voice sounded affable.
“Fine,” Cole answered, surprised to be hearing from him.
“Your mother‘s been complaining you haven‘t called her.”
“I‘ve been busy.” Cole wondered what his father really wanted.
“I‘m flying out next week. I‘ll be arriving on Wednesday.”
“Coming to check up on me?” Cole wanted nothing more than to