Don't Cry Part 28

"It'll take you twenty minutes to get there the way you drive," Zoe had told him. "And it's not even six o'clock. You have plenty of time. You just can't be bothered."

"I'm not arguing with you about this." During the one-hour family counseling session yesterday-with Dr. Sally Woodruff-he'd had one of those lightbulb moments. He couldn't remember exactly what Dr. Woodruff had said that triggered the realization that by arguing with his daughter to make her understand his point of view, he was actually facilitating her rebellious att.i.tude. She was not one of his peers or a superior whose approval he needed. She was, despite being fourteen or maybe because of it, a child. His child. He was the adult.

"It's very discourteous to just drop me off. Aren't you always preaching to me about the importance of good manners?" Zoe had glared daggers at him.

When he hadn't responded, she had crossed her arms over her chest and pouted all the way to downtown.

He watched while Zoe disappeared into the house. Audrey lifted her hand and waved at him. He waved back and then drove off, heading for West Fourth. Focusing straight ahead, he tried to forget that he'd left his daughter, once again, mad as h.e.l.l at him. And he didn't want to think about the displeased look Audrey had given him. Or had he imagined that her expression denoted disapproval? She hadn't actually been frowning at him, but she certainly hadn't been smiling.

As he merged onto I-24 East, Audrey's image flashed through his mind. That undecipherable expression on her face. Her shoulder-length chestnut brown hair, tucked behind her ears, shimmering in the late-evening sunlight. Loose-fitting lounge pants in some weird shade of green clung to her hips, and the matching top, the neckline encrusted with some type of beading, hung in loose pleats over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

J.D. growled. What the h.e.l.l was wrong with him?

Stop thinking about Audrey. Stop worrying about Zoe.

He had a date with a gorgeous babe tonight. Possibly the first of many dates.

Audrey had allowed Zoe to grumble and complain about her father's lack of manners, but she hadn't made any negative comments. J.D. had his faults-everyone did-but it was better if she kept any negative opinions about his character to herself. It was in Zoe's best interest to point out her father's good qualities.

"I'm sure your dad didn't mean to be rude," Audrey had said. "It's a first date for him with Ms. Oliver, and he wants to make a good impression by showing up early."

"You know what? I didn't have any idea he'd split up with Holly last night until he told me this morning that he had a date with Jacy's aunt."

The man certainly didn't waste any time, did he? He'd seen Holly Johnston last night, and tonight he had a date with Cara Oliver. Out with the old and in with the new.

"I should have figured that Holly's days were numbered. She was getting a little clingy, and if there's one thing J.D. hates, it's clingy."

During dinner Audrey had tried to steer the conversation away from J.D. Ca.s.s and his personal life. The less she knew, the better. She wasn't the least bit interested in learning more about the man. He was Zoe's father and a colleague of Tam's and Uncle Garth's. Those were her only connections to J.D. As far as she was concerned, they were merely acquaintances and nothing more, certainly not friends.

Curling up on the sofa together after dinner, Audrey and Zoe watched one of the two movies Audrey had rented, each a lighthearted comedy that she thought appropriate for someone Zoe's age. As it turned out, the one Zoe chose for them to watch was a real dud, so they had started talking about halfway through and even though the movie was still playing, they pretty much ignored it.

"I like Dr. Woodruff," Zoe said. "She's not you, of course, but she's okay."

"Sally is a nice person and an excellent counselor. She also raised three daughters, so she understands teenage girls better than anyone I know."

"I think J.D. liked her okay. It's hard to tell with him. He's not always easy to read. Sometimes, he says one thing when I'm sure he's actually thinking the opposite."

"Maybe you should stop second-guessing him and take him at his word."

"Maybe. It's just I wish..." Zoe ran her tongue over the edge of her teeth.

"What do you wish?"

Zoe shook her head, the movement bouncing her glistening, shoulder-length black hair. "I wish I had a real family. You know, a mom and dad and a brother or sister. I can only imagine how great it would be to be normal."

"I used to wish for the same thing," Audrey admitted. "First my parents divorced when I was five, and then my mother was killed in an accident when I was six. My dad remarried and for a while I thought maybe, just maybe...At least I got a couple of brothers out of Dad's second marriage."

"Your little brother was kidnapped, wasn't he?"

"Yes, Blake was abducted when he was two and was never found."

"I'm sorry." Zoe reached over and rubbed Audrey's arm. "I didn't mean to make you sad."

"It's okay. You and I are friends, aren't we? That means we can share sad moments."

"Sometimes when I think about my mom, I get sad. She wasn't an ideal mother or anything, but in her own way she loved me. When she told me she had cancer, I was scared to death. For her. For me. Weird thing is that if she hadn't known she was dying, she'd have never told me about J.D. I'd have spent the rest of my life not knowing who my real father was." Zoe looked at Audrey. "Why aren't you and your dad close?"

Audrey hesitated, uncertain what to say, considering just how honest she should be. "When my brother Blake was kidnapped, my dad changed. And then my stepmother took her own life and things got worse. He never recovered from losing his son and his wife."

"But he still had you and your other brother."

"My stepbrother," Audrey said. "But it wasn't the same for Dad. Blake was special."

"I think you're special. I wish my dad could see just how special you are."

"Oh, Zoe..." Audrey realized she had to handle this situation with kid gloves. "I think you're pretty special, too. As for your father..." She cleared her throat. "Your father and I aren't...we're just acquaintances. You and I are friends. Your father and I are connected only through you. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

"Don't you think my dad is hot?"

"Ah...oh...er," Audrey sputtered and then laughed. "I think your father is a very attractive man, but-"

"You could ask him out, you know. Jacy's aunt did. She called him up and asked him. Women do that all the time, don't they, ask guys out."

"Zoe, I'm not going to ask your father for a date."

"I could ask him for you."

"No. You will do no such thing."

"I'll bet he'd say yes."

"Zoe!"

"Oh, all right. I won't ask him," Zoe promised. "But you know what? I think a daughter should have the right to give a thumbs up or a thumbs down to the women her father dates. Believe me, I'd have given a thumbs down to Holly Johnston."

"And what about Ms. Oliver?"

"Hmm...I'm not sure. A possible thumbs up. I like Jacy's aunt all right, but she's not you. I'd much rather my dad was dating you."

"That's not going to happen."

Not now. Not ever

Porter checked his wrist.w.a.tch. 10:50 P.M. He parked his car across the street from Audrey's town house. He had driven by earlier that evening and then returned a few hours later. He had circled the block half a dozen times before leaving. This was his third trip.

Audrey hadn't phoned him, hadn't e-mailed or sent him a text since he'd left the roses on her porch last night. He had been so sure she would get in touch, if for no other reason, at least to thank him.

Their relationship had been progressing nicely, their going from friendly acquaintances to good friends over a period of months. Lovers would have been the next logical step. He had done everything right. He had been patient and understanding, not rushing her, allowing her all the time she needed. He had studied her likes and dislikes and made them his own. He had learned how to be the perfect mate for Audrey Sherrod.

From the time he was a child, he had set goals for himself and done whatever was necessary to achieve those goals. He had allowed no one to get in his way and nothing to steer him in the wrong direction. Even as a little boy, he had been aware that in order to survive, he had to reinvent himself. He had plotted and planned. He had learned to fit in, to project whatever image was needed at the time, to become whoever and whatever each person in his life required.

His mother, Lynn Porter Bryant, had wanted him to be her beautiful little angel, sweet and obedient and adoring. He never disappointed her, and she died when he was twenty-five, never knowing who he really was.

His father, Morris Bryant, a wealthy attorney, had wanted him to be smart and successful, to make him proud by following in his footsteps. He had become a lawyer to please the old man. On Porter's last visit home to Lexington before his dad died, Morris had told him that he needed to find a good woman and settle down.

His father would have approved of Audrey, as his mother would have. She was the type of woman who would make the ideal wife. He had been so sure of her, so certain that he had executed his plans without fault, so convinced that, like every other goal he had ever set, making Audrey his mate was a fait accompli.

So what had gone wrong?

Why had she rejected him?

I want you to be free to find someone else, someone who can give you what you deserve in a relationship.

When she had asked him if he loved her, he should have lied and said yes. He should have gotten down on one knee right then and there, professed his undying love, and asked her to marry him.

Perhaps it wasn't too late.

She had said there was no one else. If that was true, then there was still hope, still a possibility that he could change her mind.

But what if she was lying to him?

He couldn't be certain, of course, but he suspected that their relationship had begun to change when Audrey met J.D. Ca.s.s. He had never thought a man like that would interest Audrey. Ca.s.s might be intelligent enough to get by in his job, but Ca.s.s was more brawn than brains, a guy with a lot of rough edges. Some women liked that type. Holly Johnston certainly did. But surely not a refined, dignified lady such as Audrey.

But what other reason would Audrey have to spend so much time with Ca.s.s and his teenage daughter? It was one thing for her to work with them as a counselor, but why become personally involved?

He had watched the TBI agent drop off his daughter at Audrey's town house earlier that evening, but hadn't seen him return. Was the girl staying the night? When he spoke to Audrey again, he didn't want an audience. He wanted them to be alone, just the two of them. It would be so much easier to persuade her, to bring her around to his way of thinking, if no one interfered.

In his peripheral vision, Porter caught a glimpse of Ca.s.s's red Camaro as he pa.s.sed by. Porter slid down in the seat, hoping Ca.s.s hadn't noticed him, and watched while the TBI agent pulled up in front of Audrey's home.

He would wait until Ca.s.s picked up his daughter and left before he put his plan into action.

J.D. parked his car, killed the engine, and sat there outside Audrey's house. He was back from his date before midnight-a whole d.a.m.n hour before midnight. Zoe was too perceptive not to figure out that his showing up this early meant that the big date had been a royal flop. And he couldn't count on his daughter not making some snide comment about him not getting any tonight.

Not that he had expected s.e.x on his first date with Cara. Or with any woman, for that matter. And d.a.m.n it, his s.e.x life was not something he ever wanted to discuss with his daughter, and it sure as h.e.l.l was none of Audrey Sherrod's business.

What had promised to be a pleasant evening with an attractive woman, and had actually started out that way, had gradually gone downhill. Even though he had arrived at Cara's a little early, she'd been ready and waiting, wearing an incredible, hugged-every-curve purple silk dress and matching spike heels. She had looked so luscious that he'd quickly dismissed a niggling thought-most women would have kept him waiting. Did that mean Cara was overeager?

On the drive to the restaurant, she hadn't taken her eyes off him, and that alone had made him uncomfortable, as had the way she had clung to his arm when the maitre d' showed them to their table. But what had really thrown him for a loop was when she had asked him to order for her.

"I'm sure I'll love whatever you choose for me."

His first thought at that comment had been, Are you for real? Are you for real?

Not once in his life had he ever dared to choose his date's meal. In his experience, women in general would have considered doing such a thing an insult.

He had ordered salad, steak, and baked potato for both of them. And when Cara had cuddled up against him where they sat in the plush booth, he'd run his index finger under his collar, loosening his tie. From that point on, one red flag after another had popped up. Warning. Danger. Fanatically possessive female attaching herself to you. Warning. Danger. Fanatically possessive female attaching herself to you.

Cara had seemed completely unaware of his discomfort. Even when he had mentioned that people were staring at them, she hadn't taken the hint.

"They're just jealous, darling."

Wanting to put an end to the date as soon as possible, he hadn't ordered dessert. Unfortunately, Cara had decided his rush to leave the restaurant was because he wanted her for dessert. Needless to say, she'd been disappointed when he took her home, walked her to her door, and said good night.

"But don't you want to come in?" She had rubbed herself against him.

"I'm afraid I can't," he'd told her. "I promised Zoe I'd pick her up by eleven."

All the way from Ooltewah to downtown Chattanooga, J.D. had cursed himself for a fool. He should have suggested lunch instead of dinner when Cara had called him. A mistake he wouldn't make again in the future. G.o.d help him, if he'd had any forewarning that Cara would a.s.sume that one date would give her any proprietary rights over him, he'd have run like h.e.l.l before instead of after the date.

d.a.m.n it, he couldn't sit out here in his car for the next hour. Might as well go on in and take your medicine like a good boy. Might as well go on in and take your medicine like a good boy.

When he rang the doorbell, Audrey opened the front door and smiled pleasantly. "Well, hi there. We weren't expecting you this early. Actually, Zoe has already put on her pajamas. She seemed to think she'd be spending the night."

"I don't know why she'd think that." J.D. grumbled the words quietly as he ran his gaze over Audrey, noticing that she was wearing tan silk pajamas, her initials monogrammed on the breast pocket.

"Oh, I think you know." Audrey's smile widened. "Did your date end after a good-night kiss at the door?"

"Something like that."

"Smart lady."

"No, smart man. I got invited in, Dr. Sherrod. I chose not to accept."

Audrey laughed. d.a.m.n her, she laughed. He had the oddest urge to grab her and shake her. But as he stood there looking at her, at those big hazel eyes and those smiling lips, another even stranger urge hit him.

Don't be an idiot twice in one night.

"Tell Zoe to grab her overnight bag and we'll hit the road so you can go to bed," J.D. said.

"There's no reason to rush off. Come on in and-"

"Oh my G.o.d!" Zoe cried out from the living room.

J.D. and Audrey shared startled gazes and then together they rushed from the foyer into the living room. Staring wide-eyed at the television, Zoe hung halfway between standing and sitting, her rounded eyes glued to the TV. With her mouth still gaping, she flopped back onto the sofa.

"What's the matter?" Audrey asked.