When A Man Loves A Woman, page 1
When A Man Loves A Woman
Bette Ford
Acknowledgements
I’d like to offer a heartfelt thanks to some talented writers: Carla Fredd, Beverly Jenkins, Francis Ray, Margie Walker, and Anita Williams. Your faith in me has helped me through a difficult year. Even though we live in four different states, good friends should never be taken for granted. Love you all.
Chapter One
“It’s done,” Amanda Daniels McFadden whispered aloud as she slowly put down the telephone with a far from steady hand. It was finally over, or at least it would be soon. A tear slipped past her lashes but she hastily wiped it away. “None of that.”
A glance at the clock had her rushing into her leather coat, grabbing her purse, oversize portfolio and briefcase and hurrying out of her office door.
“Helen, if you need me I’ll be—”
“Look, Mrs. McFadden,” Helen Brown, her secretary, gushed. “Aren’t they lovely?” She held up a crystal vase filled with dark red, heavily fragrant roses.
“Yes,” Amanda said somewhat breathlessly. She did not need to look at the card to know who had sent them; nonetheless she accepted the small white card. Her eyes closed at the name scribbled at the bottom.
“Aren’t you going to take them with you?”
“No,” she said, swallowing with difficulty. “Please, put them in my office. I’m late for lunch as it is. If Roger calls, will you please tell him I’m on the way? Thanks. Helen, I’ll be back after my meeting with Mrs. Williams.”
“But, you’ve forgotten this.” Helen handed her a small, slender, beautifully wrapped gold-embossed package.
Amanda took it, saying, “Got to run. See you,” then hurrying down the short carpeted hall and through the outer door before any of her other employees could stop her.
Amanda’s eyes burned from unshed tears and she was shaking so badly by the time she reached the elevator that she had to lean against the wall for support. After pushing the arrow marked DOWN, she shoved the unopened gift into the side pocket of her briefcase before she began taking slow, steady breaths in the hope of getting her emotions under control.
“I can do this … I can do this … I can do this,” she repeated to herself until the elevator dinged, signaling its arrival.
Stepping into the elevator, Amanda acknowledged the two men inside with a nod. Her mind was not on the problem involved with running her own interior design studio, but with her recent conversation with her attorney, Jeffery Ross.
Today should have been a special one. The anniversary of her wedding day. Why, today of all days, did Mr. Ross have to send those papers? It wasn’t the lawyer’s error … it was hers. Amanda reminded herself that it didn’t matter what day the papers arrived. They needed to be sent. It made no sense to put it off any longer.
She awoke alone as she did every morning. It was going to be that way from now on. More important, it was what she wanted. Soon, she could legally drop the McFadden from her name, then once again be plain Mandy Daniels. She liked the sound of it, so warm and familiar, like a pair of worn, comfortable slippers.
The two men observing the golden-toned, African-American beauty would have laughed if they could have read her thoughts. She was tall, five-eight, and shapely, dressed all in dove-gray leather from her midcalf-length coat to her accessories, including chunky-heel leather boots.
Oblivious to the interest sent her way, Amanda searched the bottom of her purse for her car keys while struggling to hold on to the oversize portfolio and briefcase. Finally, she located and removed the heavy gold key ring with the costly letter M dangling from it. As she ran a French-manicured nail over the eighteen-karat gold charm with channel-set emeralds surrounded by diamonds, her thoughts were on the man who had given it to her.
“You’re mine now, Mandy. You’re a McFadden,” Zachary had whispered huskily before he pressed his lips to the wide gold band he had placed there mere hours earlier, then covered her mouth in a hard, possessive kiss.
Not anymore, she wanted to shout. Stop it! She did not want to think about him, not today … especially not today. She had what she wanted. So why was she so sad, so out of sorts?
Shoving the keys into her pocket, Amanda instantly decided to buy a new key holder that very same day. While she was at it, she needed to start looking for a new location for her office, as well as her condo. Both were located in buildings owned by McFadden Realty.
Pulling on cashmere-lined gloves, she glanced at her wrist-watch, then frowned. She was late. If she didn’t hurry, Roger would be furious. Well, not exactly furious. Roger McFadden never really became angry with anyone. He was much too easygoing to let anyone or anything get under his skin for long, not even his stubborn older brother, Zachary.
Why was it so difficult to get Zachary out of her thoughts? They both had made a terrible mistake. Even if he did not agree, it was only a matter of time until he recognized there were no other options. If anything, he should be grateful she was finally releasing him from this pitiful excuse of a marriage.
“Hope the snow has stopped. It was great during the holidays for the kids, but enough is enough,” the man closest to her commented.
Amanda glanced at him, surprised by his interest. She shrugged. “I suppose.”
Dressed in the standard business suit and topcoat, he murmured, “After you,” and held the elevator doors open, waiting for her to precede him into the underground parking garage.
Amanda mumbled her thanks, absently noting that he was average height with a clear, warm brown complexion.
“My name is Zachary Morgan. My law office is here in the building. You work in the building, don’t you?” When she made no comment, he rushed on to say, “I mean, I’m sure I’ve seen you coming and going. Perhaps, we can have lunch someday?”
His name was all she really heard. She longed to yell at a complete stranger because of it, but caught herself before she completely lost it. The last thing she needed was an involvement with another man.
“Howdy, Mrs. McFadden. Anything I can do for you?” The security guard looked pointedly at the man at her side.
“Hi, Greg. How are you today?” she said as she slowed her steps. “I’m running late as usual. I suppose Roger has already left?”
“Yeah, he left about a half hour ago. You okay?”
“Fine. Thanks.”
He smiled, touching his cap before continuing on.
To the man observing the exchange, Amanda said, “Mr. Morgan, I’m married. But thanks anyway.” She waved, turning toward the red car parked at the end of the next row. She mumbled to herself, “Well, Zach, you do have your uses.”
Grandpa always said there were two things in life a man could always depend on—his horse and a woman being late. She nearly laughed out loud. That wonderful, wry old man may have had a point, at least when it came to her. Suddenly, she had to blink away tears. How she missed that stubborn, sweet man. Her grandfather had certainly believed in taking care of his own. He’d looked after her since she came to live with him when she was twelve.
After disengaging the alarm on her sleek red Lexus, her grandfather’s last gift to her before his death, Amanda slid behind the wheel. Jake Daniels had died with the assurance that his beloved grandchild would be taken care of by the son of his oldest friend and neighbor.
She did not take time to warm the car on one of the coldest January days. After backing out of the parking space, she headed toward the well-marked exit ramp.
Her grandfather had not hesitated to take her in when her mother died. He had enjoyed spoiling her, believing that she had experienced too much suffering in her childhood. Although Jake had not been as wealthy as the McFaddens, he had managed his ranch and money wisely.
Jake had also seen to it that Amanda attended the University of Colorado at Boulder, then insisted on helping her start her own business fresh out of college. He had even gone so far as to rent office space in one of Denver’s most prestigious professional buildings.
Her eyes misted with tears. She had loved him fiercely, and she missed him. She would have gladly given back all the gifts to have her feisty old grandfather back with her. None of the material things mattered. What was important was the deep love and sense of security he had given her, something her parents had failed to provide.
She was twenty-eight now and thankful that he had lived long enough to see how she had made a success of the design studio and even ventured into her own syndicated television show called Elegant Designs by Amanda. She also developed a line of plush home accessories, including stationery, fabric-covered books and photo albums, lamp shades, accent pillows and scented candles, all of which were sold in several exclusive boutiques around the city. The orders were so brisk that part of her business demanded more and more of her time.
She eased the car into the stream of heavy traffic on 17th Street, considered by some to be the Wall Street of the Rockies, with its impressive skyscrapers housing banks, investment houses and several major corporations and insurance companies. Relieved that the streets had been salted and cleared of snow, she headed north on Broadway to 18th Street where she traveled west toward Larimer.
No, she had not expected her business to take off as quickly as it had. Nor had she expected to be in the situation of having to send the man she had loved most of her life notice of her intentions to divorce him. What a terrible, heartbreaking mess.
Why had Zachary sent the roses and the gift? He knew their marriage was a mistake. One reckless nig ht had changed both of their lives and ruined a perfectly wonderful friendship.
Amanda sighed wearily. She was tired. She had not slept well in days. January 23, their wedding day, marked the beginning of the most painful time in her life. She had lost not only her grandfather, but also her baby mere days after her grandfather’s funeral. A double loss that she was not certain she could ever recover from.
Zachary had been supportive through it all, but Amanda had been the one unable to cope. She had slipped into a depression; only her work had kept her going.
Releasing an impatient sound, she was disgusted with her inability to keep Zachary out of her thoughts and finally gave up trying. He, the oldest of three sons, had a strong sense of right and wrong. He never shirked responsibility.
He took over the family-owned, highly successful business, McFadden Realty, when his father had died suddenly ten years earlier. He had stepped down from an active role in the company as soon as his brothers were out of college and able to handle the business. Now, he spent his time on the ranch some 160 miles west of Denver, outside of Glenwood Springs, Colorado.
The problems in their marriage were certainly not his fault. If anyone was to blame for the dissolution it was Amanda. There was no way of getting around the fact that she was not capable of loving Zachary, or any man for that matter, the way a woman should love her man. Divorce was the only answer for them, and she was relieved that she had finally found the courage to get on with it. She had kept both of their lives in limbo long enough.
Amanda turned into the drive of the popular Italian restaurant situated in Larimer Square. Mario’s was an antique brick structure like the other restaurants, shops and galleries in the area. The historic old buildings had been restored, as a reminder of the city’s silver and gold rush days.
The morning had dawned cool and crisp, a beautiful day … a special day. It was their wedding anniversary. Zachary McFadden had been up well before dawn because he had been unable to sleep. So when the call came letting him know that his favorite mare, Penny, was ready to have her foal, he only needed time to pull on work clothes before he was on his way to the barn.
As he made his way back to the house several hours later, his stomach let him know it was long past breakfast, nearly noon in fact. He shifted stiff muscles beneath his heavy suede, fleeced-lined jacket. His long legs quickly covered the distance from the ranch yard, with him noticing the side garden that his mother was so proud of was blanketed by a fresh layer of pristine snow, onto the back porch and through the rear door that led directly into the mudroom.
After hanging up his jacket and Stetson and removing his boots, he entered the bathroom, off the kitchen. As he quickly shed his soiled clothes, showered and redressed in the fresh pair of worn jeans and chambray shirt stored in one of the cupboards, Zachary could not stop himself from wondering if Amanda had received the flowers and gift he had sent, and if she was angry because of them.
He had not made plans for the evening … an evening that should have been spent with his wife. No, he was not likely to forget anything connected to Amanda, including the losses they had both suffered this past year.
If left up to him, he would have liked to take her away for a few days to some romantic inn where they could be alone … where they could wake in each other’s arms and make love, again and again. Hell, he would have settled for being able to see her today and personally give her the expensive bracelet he had carefully picked out for her.
But none of that would happen, not unless he broke his word … and that was something he was not about to do. At the very least he hoped she would appreciate the fact that he remembered their day.
“Morning, Margaret,” he said as he entered the roomy kitchen. “Save me any breakfast?”
Margaret Armstrong, widow of one of the ranch hands, had been the housekeeper for the last fifteen years. She was a crisp, no-nonsense type of person, who was not afraid to speak her mind. Her pecan-brown skin was unlined and her thick black hair, flecked with gray, had been braided and coiled around her head. “Well, of course I saved you some food. I’ll get it from the warmer. Foal came in all right?”
“Foals. Penny had twins,” he acknowledged. He filled a coffee mug from the coffeemaker on the counter, before he made his way to the alcove at the side of the room and sank down into his usual chair. “What’s this?” he asked, noting the special-delivery letter beside the newspaper at his place setting.
“Came a few minutes ago,” Margaret said as she placed a plate of pancakes, scrambled eggs and bacon in front of him. “Need anything else?”
“No. Thanks,” he said absently as he used his table knife to slit the bulky legal-size envelope open. “Is my mother in?”
“No, she and Miss Barbara had hair appointments and are going shopping in town. Left about half hour ago.”
“Huh. Have you checked in on …” He stopped as he read the document. “Hell, no!”
“Something wrong?” she asked from where she stood in front of the opened refrigerator door, removing a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice.
“I’ll say,” Zachary snarled as he pushed back his chair. “Call down to the hanger. Tell Buck to get the chopper ready … now. I’m on my way.” He was moving toward the mudroom.
“… but, Zach, what about your breakfast?”
“You eat it.”
“Good Afternoon, Mrs. McFadden. I believe your party is already seated. This way, please.” The tuxedo-clad maître d’ was all smiles as he led her through the crowded yet cleverly decorated dining room. The round tables were covered in pale blue linen and set with gleaming crystal and fine bone china. Tall palms and high-backed curved banquettes, upholstered in rich navy and green velvet print, afforded a certain measure of privacy.
Roger McFadden spotted Amanda as she approached, aware of the attention Amanda generally received wherever she went. Today was no exception. Several male heads skirted the palms to get a better view of her graceful curvy figure. He grinned. She was too levelheaded to care. She was one woman who used her brains and talents to get ahead, not her looks. Roger came to his full height of six-three, a welcoming smile warming his brown face.
“I could have drunk myself under this table waiting for you, Mandy. I’ve already had two of these. If you were any longer, I would be on the floor,” he complained, as he took her hands and kissed a soft golden brown cheek.
Amanda reached up to give Roger a fierce hug. She saw so little of him these days and missed him terribly.
“Roger, please don’t be angry with me. I’m so sorry. I had an appointment that took longer than planned. It’s a good thing I didn’t ask you to meet me in the lobby or we would have lost this wonderful table.”
McFadden Realty was located on the top two floors of the office complex. It was only one of the buildings that the McFadden brothers inherited from their father. He had made a name for himself across the country. Zachary remained CEO, even though the day-to-day operations of the company were no longer his responsibility.
After Roger helped her with her coat, Amanda dropped gracefully down onto the booth. She smiled at the maître d’, who had pulled the table out for them to be seated comfortably before replacing it and handing her a menu.
“Will you stop frowning at me?” Amanda teased. How handsome Roger was in his three-piece navy pinstriped business suit, every bit the corporate lawyer of the family-owned firm. He looked far different from the jean-clad kid she had grown up with. Although he was a year older, they had been friends as well as neighbors since middle school.
“You look great, except for those dark smudges under your eyes. Don’t you sleep at night, girl?” Roger went on to scold, “Why haven’t you called or dropped by the office? We do work in the same building.” He did not give her time to answer even one of his demands before rushing on with, “I’ve dropped down to see you several times, but the well-trained Dracula lady you call a secretary claims you’re out with a client every single time. Business must be booming.” His skepticism was in his dark eyes.
It was true. Amanda did not bother making excuses. They both knew she had been avoiding him. And they also knew the reason why.
