you wrote—”
“I meant to tell her. I tried.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because when I first went to see her, she didn’t want to hear it. So I let it go.” He’d felt all the worse because Hayley had told him how much Hank had respected him as a boss.
“But things are different now, Dillon.”
“Are they? Hayley still wants to get on with her life.”
“She should know.”
“When the time is right,” Dillon qualified.
“And when will that be?”
“I expect I’ll know when it happens.”
“Are you sure you’re doing the right thing?”
“No.” Dillon swallowed. “I wish Hank hadn’t been killed and Hayley left a widow. But she was. And I’m dealing with it as best I can.” Although he still didn’t know what he wanted from her in the long run. Forgiveness? Maybe. A love affair? Definitely. Beyond that, he just didn’t know.
For the next few seconds, both he and his sister were extraordinarily quiet. She covered his hand with her own. “I’m not blaming you, Dillon,” she said gently. “And I don’t think Hayley would, either, once all the facts were out. I do think Hayley should be told the truth before you marry her. For heaven’s sake, Dillon, she has a right to know!”
“No.” Dillon turned away from his sister. The situation had already snowballed into something unpleasant. He didn’t want to risk a new avalanche of damage. He didn’t want to risk losing her, not as his housekeeper, not as his potential lover.
“Why not?” Marge insisted.
“Because it’s over, that’s why not.” He paced back and forth. “Because talking about it would upset her.”
“You’re making a mistake,” Marge warned.
“It’s mine to make,” Dillon volleyed back stubbornly.
Marge studied him, her disappointment obvious. “I can’t talk you out of it?”
“The only thing you’ll be talked out of if you keep this up,” Dillon retorted, “is your invitation to my wedding on Saturday.”
Marge reached blindly for a chair and sank into it weakly. “You’re doing it that soon?”
Dillon shrugged. He’d been debating all week whether or not to tell his sister that this marriage was going to be a purely business arrangement between himself and Hayley. Now, seeing how distraught she was over the little she knew, he was glad he hadn’t. “Neither of us sees any reason to wait.” What he did with his life was his business, he assured himself sternly.
Marge let out a slow, unsteady breath. “Under the circumstances, I don’t think you should be marrying her at all, and certainly not yet.”
“That’s funny.” Dillon propped his feet on his desk. He regarded his sister with unchecked pique. “I don’t recall asking your advice.”
“I know.” Marge smiled at him with sisterly concern. As usual when they disagreed about the mess she felt he was making with his life, she refused to back off. “It’s free, anyway. At the very least, do it right,” Marge urged with a smile. “Have a proper engagement and honeymoon, a big wedding with all your family and friends.”
Dillon shook his head, nixing that idea at once. “We don’t want to wait.”
“I thought Hayley was practical.”
“She is.” Dillon smiled back at Marge, as determined not to tell her everything as she was to try and discover it. “That’s why she doesn’t want to wait.”
“Three weeks ago you told me your relationship was strictly platonic. You told everyone at the barbecue last Saturday the same thing.”
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