people in the States.” She smiled. “It’s my gallery of happiness and dreams come true.”
“Happiness and dreams come true,” Ryan said quietly, but with a slight edge to his voice, “for the parents. I qualify to have my baby picture on a wall like that because my parents adopted me from Korea.”
Ryan paused and looked at Carolyn St. John again, a deep frown on his face.
“I know you believe you’re performing a service here by providing these children with a chance at a life far better than the one they would have had in an orphanage,” he went on, “and you are, to a point.
“But have you ever considered the far-reaching ramifications, Ms. St. John, of placing foreign children with American parents? Have you thought about what it’s like for those kids when they realize they are different, just don’t fit in? Do you ever think about that, when you’re handing out cute little babies from overseas?”
“First of all, Mr. Sharpe,” Carolyn said, with a flash of anger, “we don’t hand out those children to just anyone. You’re obviously only part Korean but…” She planted her hands on her hips. “I’m sorry if you had difficulties with your mixed-heritage while growing up, but no, I’m not going to justify what I do here, to someone who has a chip on his shoulder as wide as Toledo.”
Carolyn narrowed her eyes and lifted her chin. “If you’ll follow me, please,” she said coolly, “we’ll join the others and you can present the plans for the new building.”
Carolyn spun around and marched from the room.
“Hey, I’m sorry. I…” Ryan stopped speaking as Carolyn disappeared from view. “Damn.”
Ryan shook his head in self-disgust, then grabbed the cardboard cylinder. He stared up at the ceiling for a long moment, then drew a deep breath, letting it out slowly with the hope of dispelling the anger he felt for his behavior.
Man, he thought, who had put a rotten nickel in him, causing him to mouth off like that? Those photographs had caused painful memories to rise up from some dusty corner of his mind and slam against him like physical blows.
But that was no excuse for what he had just done and said. Not only had he represented MacAllister Architects very poorly, he had also alienated a very attractive woman. A woman, who when angry, had eyes like incredible blue laser beams and a pretty flush on her cheeks.
He had to apologize to Carolyn St. John, make amends…right now.
Ryan left the office and looked down a hallway, seeing Carolyn waiting for him at the far end of the corridor. She had her arms crossed beneath her breasts and was tapping the toe of one shoe impatiently.
She was definitely angry at him, Ryan thought, starting toward her, not smiling.
Ryan strode down the hall and stopped in front of Carolyn.
“Look, I want to say that I…” he started.
“The others are seated inside,” Carolyn said, cutting him off as she spoke to the knot of his tie. “We’re running late as it is, so shall we go in, Mr. Sharpe?”
“It’s Ryan and…”
Carolyn swept one arm through the air. “After you. I’m just breathless with anticipation to hear what other pearly words of wisdom you have to offer…Mr. Sharpe.”
Ryan cringed as Carolyn’s words made a direct hit on his already guilty conscious, and he moved past her to enter the large room where a dozen people were seated around a long table.
Carolyn introduced Ryan to Elizabeth who introduced Ryan to the others as Carolyn took a seat at the far end. As Ryan spread out the blueprints in the center of the table, everyone got to their feet to see better. Carolyn rose but stayed at the edge of the group.
Ryan Sharpe, she fumed, might be one of the most handsome and well-built men she had ever encountered, but big macho deal. All the rugged good looks and nicely placed muscles in the world would not erase the fact that she did not like him.
How dare he pass negative judgment on her and the agency? He accused her of not knowing what it was like to be different? Oh, ha, a lot he knew. She had firsthand knowledge of that lonely status.
But no matter what difficulties he might have had while growing up, and no matter what problems the precious children she helped place with parents in this country might encounter, they were far better off here than lost in the shuffle in overcrowded orphanages and—
Oh, Carolyn, shut up, she told herself. She didn’t have to justify her chosen career to a narrow-minded hunk with an attitude. So there.
“Right,” Carolyn said decisively, then realized, to her embarrassment as everyone turned to look at her, that she’d spoken aloud.
“Well, good, Carolyn,” Elizabeth said, smiling. “I’m glad you agree that French doors leading to the courtyard are much classier than what we’d decided on earlier. It appears we’re in accord, Mr. Sharpe.”
“It’s Ryan, please,” he said to Elizabeth, then shifted his attention to Carolyn. “I’m delighted that you and I are on the same page…Carolyn.”
“Oh, we are…Ryan,” she said, ever so sweetly. “About French doors.”
Elizabeth frowned. “Did I miss something here, Carolyn?”
“No, Elizabeth,” Carolyn said, “nothing that deserves any further discussion. Are there any other changes from the original ideas we presented that we need to be apprised of?”
“Well, no, not according to the notes I was given,” Ryan said. “I just need Elizabeth to sign off on these plans and we’re all set. You can present these blueprints to your contractor. MacAllister Architects will have another set on file at our office in case any questions or problems arise during construction.”
“We’re going to have a ground-breaking ceremony with the press invited,” Elizabeth said. “I think I’ll buy a shiny shovel and put a huge red bow on it to turn over the first scoop of soil on our land and…”
As Elizabeth chattered on to Ryan about the ground-breaking ceremony, he smiled and nodded, then watched in frustration as Carolyn left the room without making eye contact with him.
At last able to escape, Ryan hurried to Carolyn’s office where she was sitting at her desk busily typing on a computer keyboard. Ryan stood in front of the desk and cleared his throat. Carolyn continued to type.
“Carolyn,” Ryan said finally.
“Hmm?” she said, her fingers flying over the keys.
“Look, I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I was way out of line, and I apologize for my outburst. It’s just that I… No, there’s no excuse for my behavior. I’d like to make amends. Would you have lunch with me? I’ll come back at noon and pick you up. Please?”
Carolyn stopped typing, pressed a key to save the work, then turned her head slowly to meet Ryan’s gaze.
“Lunch?” he repeated, producing his best one-hundred-watt smile. “Please, Carolyn?”
“I bet you’re accustomed to getting just about anything you want with that smile…Ryan,” she said. “Well, chalk this up as a new experience for you. Have lunch? With you? Do let me know if there’s any part of this reply to your request that you don’t understand, but my answer is really quite simple. No.”
Chapter Two
That night Ryan sat in his favorite chair in his living room, an open and forgotten book on his lap as he stared into space, frowning.
Carolyn St. John, he mused. The events that had transpired earlier continued to haunt him. In the silence of his apartment, there was no way to escape from again squaring off against his less-than-flattering behavior hours before.
Ryan sighed, leaned his head on the