finished his therapy. She should’ve learned her lesson then. Clark didn’t take rejection well. She’d broken off the engagement, and that had injured his pride. He wasn’t about to let her walk away. In his view of the world, he was in control; he did the leaving.
The minute her mother had heard Clark’s name, she’d been ecstatic. Early on, Leanne hinted that it would be fine to bend the rules just a bit for someone of his stature. As soon as they’d started dating, Leanne had told all her friends that her daughter was seeing Max and Marlene Snowden’s only son. Clark was part of his father’s prestigious legal firm and destined to become a full partner within the next five years. As far as Leanne Rylander was concerned, Phoebe had struck gold.
And Clark had swept her off her feet. Just like a romantic hero. He’d escorted her to parties and concerts. He’d lavished gifts on her, flattered her—and asked her to marry him.
The first sign of trouble came when a woman from his office stopped by the clinic and asked to speak to Phoebe privately. Kellie Kramer warned her that Clark had a nasty habit of paying for sex. Phoebe hadn’t believed it. Why should she? This woman obviously had a vendetta against Clark. Then Kellie had provided proof, showing her a copy of the warrant issued when Clark was arrested—the first time. She’d risked her job removing it from the file because she felt Phoebe had a right to know. Kellie claimed, as well, that there’d been plenty of other occasions. Clark just hadn’t been caught.
Stunned, Phoebe had confronted Clark, who seemed genuinely surprised that she was upset. According to her fiancé this was something practically all men did. Sex with a prostitute didn’t mean anything, he said.
Phoebe had found it difficult to listen to these inadequate excuses. She’d wanted to break off the engagement immediately. Clark had begged for a second chance. He’d called her at all hours of the day and night. He’d sent flowers and left pleading messages, until she’d weakened enough to agree. But the person who’d really convinced her to give him a second chance had been her own mother.
Leanne felt Phoebe needed to let Clark prove himself. Now that he understood such behavior was unacceptable, she’d argued, it would stop.
Clark had said all the right things. He’d vowed with tears in his eyes that nothing like this would ever happen again. He loved her. If Phoebe walked out on him, his life would be ruined.
He’d also told her that Kellie Kramer had been fired. She’d overstepped her bounds, and her insubordination wouldn’t be tolerated. Her motive had been to hurt Clark and his father. If Phoebe ended their engagement, Kellie would succeed. He’d begged for another chance and, with her mother’s encouragement ringing in her ears, Phoebe had let him convince her.
“Phoebe? Phoebe, are you still there?” her mother asked plaintively.
“I’m here, Mom.”
“Promise me you’ll sleep on this,” she said again. “Your entire future is at stake.”
“I already told you, Mother. There’s nothing to sleep on. Clark was with this other woman. He admitted it!”
“Yes, but she entrapped him.”
“That doesn’t matter. What does is that he broke his word.”
“I’m so afraid you’re going to do something you’ll regret for the rest of your life.”
You mean something you’re going to regret, Phoebe thought but didn’t say. She closed her eyes. “I…I can’t talk about this anymore. Good night, Mom.”
She had to persevere, not only against Clark but against her own mother, who’d rather see Phoebe sacrifice her happiness and integrity than end a socially advantageous—but emotionally corrupt—relationship.
She couldn’t get to that knitting class fast enough, she told herself wryly. She had to banish Clark Snowden from her life and that meant she needed all the fortification she could get.
CHAPTER
3
Bryan “Hutch” Hutchinson
Hutch sat in Dr. Dave Wellington’s office, waiting. His physician and former classmate wanted to speak to him and that couldn’t be good. He’d gone in for his annual physical, except that it wasn’t so annual, and following a series of tests, Dave’s nurse had ushered him into his office.
Hutch and Dave had been friends for years; they’d gone to high school and college together, both star football players. Before Hutch took over the family business, they’d golfed together every Wednesday afternoon. Golf. Like so much else, he’d given it up after his father’s sudden death. Hutch had assumed the position of CEO at Mount Rainier Chocolates, and his life hadn’t been the same since.
There was no longer time for golf in the middle of the day. And now, with the pending lawsuit…
Hutch didn’t want to think about that because whenever he did he grew irritated. He figured that was bad for his blood pressure, which the nurse had told him was elevated. Little wonder. So okay, he probably wasn’t as fit as he’d been in college. He didn’t have time to work out. The company’s demands made it impossible.
“Am I going to live?” Hutch joked as his friend walked in. Dave strode to the other side of his desk and pulled out the chair.
“That depends.”
The smiled died on Hutch’s lips. “You’re joking, right?”
Dave leaned toward him. “Your blood pressure is far too high.”
“Yeah, but…” He frowned. These days his stress level was through the roof, thanks largely to a frivolous lawsuit recently filed against the company. Some woman claimed that eating Mount Rainier Chocolates had made her fat. Oh, the lawsuit dressed it up with fancy words about “psychological dependence” and “exploitive advertising” but the plaintiff’s weight gain was the basis of her legal action. Talk about stupid! And yet it was just the kind of case he’d often read about, in which a jury awarded huge sums as punitive damages. The plaintiff shouldn’t have stood a chance of winning, but she had a crackerjack attorney who’d charged Mount Rainier Chocolates with malicious and willful misconduct and obviously hoped to create a precedent that would make his name. Every time Hutch thought about it, he became more agitated. Whatever happened to personal responsibility? To common sense? To accountability?
Hutch didn’t care what it cost; he wasn’t caving in, not to blackmail, and that was what he considered this. Okay, so his blood pressure was high; he’d deal with it. “Fine, I’ll take a pill.”
Dave shook his head. “It’s more than that. You’re working too hard, not exercising enough and I’m well aware that your diet is atrocious. You have all the classic symptoms of a man headed for a heart attack.”
“Hey, I’m only thirty-five.”
“Unmarried. And you know what the statistics say about the benefits of marriage—especially for men.”
The fact that he didn’t have
