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“Fine.” He didn’t smile, didn’t show any sign of pleasure at seeing her.
“Dad told me he talked to you about…the two of us marrying.” The words felt awkward on her tongue.
“He did mention something along those lines,” Charles returned stiffly.
He hadn’t asked her to make herself comfortable or invited her to sit down. It didn’t matter, though, since she couldn’t stand still, anyway. She paced from one side of his living room to the other. She felt strangely chilled, despite the warm spring weather.
“You think I put Dad up to it, don’t you?”
“Yes,” he said frankly.
He stood rooted to the same spot while she drifted, apparently aimlessly, around the room. His look, everything about him, wasn’t encouraging. Perhaps she should have delayed this, let them both sleep on it, instead of forcing the issue. Perhaps she should’ve dropped the whole thing, and let this misunderstanding sort itself out. Perhaps she should go home now before the situation got even worse.
“I didn’t ask Dad to say anything to you,” she told him simply.
“I wish I could believe that.”
“Why can’t you? This is ridiculous! If you intend to drag the past into every disagreement, punish me for something that happened three years ago, then—”
“I’m not talking about three years ago. I’m talking about here and now.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll say this for you, Steffie, you’ve gotten a lot more subtle.”
“How…do you mean?”
“First, you park in front of the newspaper office just as I happen to—”
“When?”
“Last week. I was talking to Wendy, and when I looked up, I saw you sitting in your car, staring at us. Just how long had you been there?”
“I…don’t know.”
“Now that I think about it, I realize what a fool I’ve been. You’ve been spying on me for weeks, haven’t you?”
The idea was so outlandish that Steffie found herself laughing incredulously. Nothing she said would make any difference, not if he believed what he was saying. Because if he did, there was nothing of their relationship left to salvage.
“There’s no fooling you, is there?” she threw out sarcastically. “You’re much too smart for me, Charles. I’ve been hiding around town for days, following you with binoculars, charting your activities. It’s amazing you didn’t catch on sooner.”
He ignored her scornful remarks. “Very convenient the way you twisted your ankle the other day, too, wasn’t it? Somehow you managed to fall directly into my arms.”
“The timing was perfect, wasn’t it?” she said with a short, humorless laugh. “You’re right, I couldn’t have planned that any better.”
He frowned. “Then there was the dinner waiting for me at the house the other night. Italian, too, just the way my grandmother used to make it.”
“Interesting how I knew that, huh?”
“All of this adds up to one thing.”
“And what might that be?” she asked scathingly, folding her arms. She’d assumed far too much in this relationship. She’d lowered her guard and actually believed Charles loved her, because she loved him so deeply. Now she understood how wrong she’d been.
“It adds up to the fact that you’re playing games again.”
“Don’t forget the moonlight the evening we were at Multnomah Falls. I arranged that, too. I have to admit it took some doing.”
“There’s no need to be sarcastic.”
