purchased at the nearest supermarket. This brand took a bit of hunting.
Why was she bringing it to him? She couldn’t possibly be trying to bribe him. Or could she? He leaned back. His eyes never left her face. “What’s this?”
This was not easy for her. But she had always prided herself on being fair. “An apology.”
That was the last thing he’d expected from her. Especially since he wasn’t quite sure what she was referring to. “For?”
She took a breath before answering. This was going to be a little tricky, but he’d impressed her a great deal last night. “For thinking that you’re an arrogant jerk who doesn’t see past his own ego.”
Instead of taking offense, he laughed. At least she was being honest and, after the surprise he’d received, being honest was a very good thing. “I thought you said you thought I was a saint.”
She felt relieved that he was taking this in the spirit it was intended. “No, I said other people thought you were a saint. To be honest, I thought that maybe you were using that image to make people see things your way.”
He supposed he could understand her feeling that way, especially considering the world she came from. Big-business dealings were hardly ever without some kind of backroom dealings.
“And now you’ve suddenly changed your mind about me because—”
She knotted her hands before her. “Because I watched you in action. Because you didn’t stop to worry about being sued if something went wrong.” Even though she had deliberately pointed it out to him last night. “Because you just got in there and helped that boy simply because he was a human being in trouble.” She had to admit, if only to herself, that she’d felt a certain thrill watching him rush to the rescue like some modern-day hero. “You almost make me yearn for the ‘good old days.’”
He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re much too young to have been around for the good old days.” He said it as if he were far more than merely nine years older than she. Peter indicated the bottle of wine. “Apology accepted.” Taking it in hand, he held the bottle out to her, implying that she was free to take it back. “But you really don’t have to do this.”
She made no move to accept the wine. It was clear she was disappointed that he seemed not to want the peace offering.
“We don’t seem to agree on anything, do we?”
Not wanting to offend her, Peter put the bottle down again. “Well, I do remember us being in agreement at one point last night.” He looked at her significantly, a hint of a smile on his lips.
Bethany could feel heat rising in her cheeks.
“Perhaps one,” she allowed.
“Maybe there’s more where that came from,” he speculated. Then, in case she thought he was suggesting something a little more personal, he added, “Agreements, I mean.”
Her eyes met his. “Maybe,” she echoed softly. She wasn’t talking about being in agreement, only in concert. She could feel her face growing yet warmer. So much for poise. Bethany cleared her throat. “I’d better get out of your way.”
“You’re not in my way,” he said. And suddenly, as much as he had wanted to be alone before, he didn’t anymore. His father’s revelation had left him in a strange, vulnerable place. He’d always felt so sure about everything, so confident. Now he wasn’t. It was as if he was back in college again, just after Lisa had abruptly left him. “Stay for a minute,” he urged. “Unless there’s somewhere else you need to be.”
He gave her a way out, but she didn’t want to take it, not just yet. So she edged back toward his desk and sat down in the chair opposite his desk. “Aren’t you busy?” she asked, nodding at the files.
“It’s nothing that won’t keep.” He closed the top folder but left it where it was. “Just paperwork I thought I’d catch up on. It’s a losing battle,” he added with a slight, disparaging sigh. “There never seems to be enough time to catch up on it all. Besides, no one ever died saying ‘I wish I’d had the chance to catch up on all my paperwork.’”
“What would they regret?” What would he regret, she couldn’t help wondering.
“Not spending enough time smelling the roses.” It was something he sincerely advocated but hardly ever did. The closest he came was to urge his patients to do it. “Or take in the beauty that’s around them.” He was looking directly at her as he said it. Her cheeks began to take on color again. “You’re growing pinker,” he commented, amused.
She’d give anything for a good, solid tan right now, but given the weather, it would have been rust, not tan. “The room is warm,” Bethany murmured. She lowered her eyes. “If that compliment was intended for me, Peter, you might think about having your eyes checked.”
This wasn’t false modesty, he realized. She really meant what she was saying. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you that you’re beautiful before?”
Not once, she thought. Not ever. And when she was growing up, the exact opposite was true. Kids were cruel and her parents didn’t provide a haven for her where she could lick her wounds. Looking back, she supposed that was a toughening device on its own.
Since he was obviously waiting for an answer, she told him the truth. “You’d be the first.”
He couldn’t believe that. “Where did you grow up, in a swamp covered with mud?”
The sincerity in his voice delighted her. “No, just with people who had twenty-twenty vision.” Her parents, especially her mother, could be trusted to point out her flaws, but never comment on any of her attributes. They expected her to be a high achiever. Anything less was not acceptable. And there was always Belinda to live up to. “Unlike yours.” A self-deprecating smile played on her lips. “I was the original ugly duckling.”
“You remember the rest of the story, don’t you?” he asked. “That so-called ugly duckling became a beautiful swan.”
She shrugged, looking away. “I haven’t reached that part yet.”
If asked, he would have said that Bethany Holloway did not lack confidence, but obviously, he would have been wrong. “Not only have you reached it, Bethany, you’ve surpassed it.”
When she looked at him, there was something enigmatic in his expression. “What?”
Peter was silent for a long moment, debating whether or not to say anything or just shrug away her question. But she’d taken the first step and held her hand out in a truce. He couldn’t be any less of a man than she was.
The second he’d thought it, he realized that it was a sexist thought, but he hadn’t meant it that way. “It’s my turn to offer you an apology.”
“For what?” Was he apologizing for walking out on her in the cafeteria, or something else?
“For thinking you were like someone else I once knew.” Maybe that was why he’d reacted so strongly against her when she put forth her arguments. “You’re not a thing like her.”
“Like who?” she asked. “And why do you think would I be insulted if I’d known you were comparing us?”
“Lisa Dandridge.” He saw the next question in her eyes. “Someone I once knew in college. Someone who didn’t turn out to be who I thought she was. At first glance, you look a lot like her.”
There were things he wasn’t saying. Before she got carried away, reading between the lines, she decided to get it straight from the horse’s mouth. “This Lisa, was she important to you?”
“For a while, yes.” For a while, she was the moon and the stars to him. Until he’d suffered an eclipse.
“How important?” she pressed.
Well, he’d started this.