good-looking man who was Brodie's legal adviser, and his wife, Marian. Next was a balding man with black-rimmed glasses and a perpetually serious expression—Cliff Hadley, Brodie's financial consultant. After that was Janson's attorney, a smooth Southern gentleman named Lee Cantrel. His wife, Rachel, was an acquaintance of Jessica's, and several years older than she was. Finally there were young Cal Janson and his wife, Sue, and their hostess, Emily Janson.
When the introductions were completed, Cal Janson slapped Brodie on the shoulder. "It's time for a drink. I know you're a bourbon man, Brodie. How about the little lady here?"
"Sherry, please," Jessica ordered, knowing the older gentleman would be shocked if she asked for anything stronger.
Almost immediately the gathering became segregated into two groups: male and female. Brodie was off in the corner of the room with the men and Jessica was drawn into the circle of women.
"How are your parents?" Emily Janson inquired. "The community was so sorry to lose them when they sold their home and retired to Florida."
"They wanted to be near their grandchildren," Jessica explained politely.
"Of course, the climate there is marvelous. Cal and I usually spend a month or two there in the winter, but I could never persuade him to leave these Tennessee hills permanently."
The inconsequential chatter began, with Emily Janson portraying the perfect hostess, drawing each of the women into the conversation and leaving no one out. A short time later the dinner was served. Jessica found herself seated on the opposite side and at the opposite endof the table from Brodie.
She remembered, with irony, his comment that he hadn't wanted to deprive himself of the pleasure of seeing her. That was about all he was doing. Her gaze slid down the table to him. He was listening intently to something his attorney was saying in low tones. Jessica watched him rub his forehead, concentrating on the spot between his dark brows. But he didn't glance her way. She hadn't noticed him looking at her, so he hadn't been "seeing" much of her, either.
"How is Jordanna?" Rachel Cantrel inquired, sitting opposite Jessica at the long, formal dining table. "Are she and Tom still getting along together, or has the honeymoon finally ended?"
"Jordanna and Tom are very happy," Jessica answered calmly, but she was fiercely aware that the mention of her sister's name had drawn Brodie's attention when her presence hadn't.
The meal became an ordeal, the excellently prepared food tasting like chalk to Jessica. If her hostess noticed her lack of appetite, Emily Janson was too polite to comment on it.
After dinner, it was back into the living room for coffee and liqueurs. Again the men secluded themselves on one side of the room, embroiled in a business discussion, while the women sat on the opposite side.
Jessica sat on the plush sofa, a china cup and saucer, balanced in her hand. From the sofa she could watch the men. Brodie rarely did any of the talking, his bland expression revealing none of his thoughts. Two or three times she noticed him briefly rub that one spot on his forehead. The gesture seemed to indicate that something serious was troubling him.
"Have you known Brodie long?" A voice inquired beside her.
Aware that she had been caught staring at him, Jessica turned to the woman seated on the sofa beside her. It was Marian Mitchell, the wife of Brodie's attorney.
"No, not very long," she admitted, and shifted the subject to the other woman. "Are you from here?"
"Gracious, no," the woman laughed. "We live in Richmond—or we do when we're there, which is seldom. Since Drew started working with Brodie our home has become some place we used to live,"
"How long has your husband worked for Brodie?"
"He's started his sixth year. I stopped counting how many airports we'd been in a long time ago or which hotels we'd stayed at." But Marian Mitchell didn't seem to be complaining.
"Don't you mind?" Jessica was
When the introductions were completed, Cal Janson slapped Brodie on the shoulder. "It's time for a drink. I know you're a bourbon man, Brodie. How about the little lady here?"
"Sherry, please," Jessica ordered, knowing the older gentleman would be shocked if she asked for anything stronger.
Almost immediately the gathering became segregated into two groups: male and female. Brodie was off in the corner of the room with the men and Jessica was drawn into the circle of women.
"How are your parents?" Emily Janson inquired. "The community was so sorry to lose them when they sold their home and retired to Florida."
"They wanted to be near their grandchildren," Jessica explained politely.
"Of course, the climate there is marvelous. Cal and I usually spend a month or two there in the winter, but I could never persuade him to leave these Tennessee hills permanently."
The inconsequential chatter began, with Emily Janson portraying the perfect hostess, drawing each of the women into the conversation and leaving no one out. A short time later the dinner was served. Jessica found herself seated on the opposite side and at the opposite endof the table from Brodie.
She remembered, with irony, his comment that he hadn't wanted to deprive himself of the pleasure of seeing her. That was about all he was doing. Her gaze slid down the table to him. He was listening intently to something his attorney was saying in low tones. Jessica watched him rub his forehead, concentrating on the spot between his dark brows. But he didn't glance her way. She hadn't noticed him looking at her, so he hadn't been "seeing" much of her, either.
"How is Jordanna?" Rachel Cantrel inquired, sitting opposite Jessica at the long, formal dining table. "Are she and Tom still getting along together, or has the honeymoon finally ended?"
"Jordanna and Tom are very happy," Jessica answered calmly, but she was fiercely aware that the mention of her sister's name had drawn Brodie's attention when her presence hadn't.
The meal became an ordeal, the excellently prepared food tasting like chalk to Jessica. If her hostess noticed her lack of appetite, Emily Janson was too polite to comment on it.
After dinner, it was back into the living room for coffee and liqueurs. Again the men secluded themselves on one side of the room, embroiled in a business discussion, while the women sat on the opposite side.
Jessica sat on the plush sofa, a china cup and saucer, balanced in her hand. From the sofa she could watch the men. Brodie rarely did any of the talking, his bland expression revealing none of his thoughts. Two or three times she noticed him briefly rub that one spot on his forehead. The gesture seemed to indicate that something serious was troubling him.
"Have you known Brodie long?" A voice inquired beside her.
Aware that she had been caught staring at him, Jessica turned to the woman seated on the sofa beside her. It was Marian Mitchell, the wife of Brodie's attorney.
"No, not very long," she admitted, and shifted the subject to the other woman. "Are you from here?"
"Gracious, no," the woman laughed. "We live in Richmond—or we do when we're there, which is seldom. Since Drew started working with Brodie our home has become some place we used to live,"
"How long has your husband worked for Brodie?"
"He's started his sixth year. I stopped counting how many airports we'd been in a long time ago or which hotels we'd stayed at." But Marian Mitchell didn't seem to be complaining.
"Don't you mind?" Jessica was
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