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She called three times and decided that she should contact his office.
"Hi, my name is Delores Pennant, and I must be put through to Mr. Manchester."
"He just came in and does not want to be disturbed."
"Please. At least tell him that it's me."
The woman paused and, without saying anything, placed her on hold.
Her hand clenched into a fist as she tapped on the desk and waited. It seemed like forever before the call was put through. "This is Deacon." The deep voice was so icy that she had to take a few seconds to compose herself.
"I have been calling your phone."
"And I chose not to answer. What is it?"
"I would like to explain-"
"You don't owe me one. It has been nice, but I don't think we are working out."
Delores sat there stunned as the words penetrated her brain. "You are ending things?"
"Yes. I have a meeting-"
"There is nothing between Carter and I."
"It does not matter. I have to go, and please don't call me back."
He hung up, and she sat there with the phone pressed against her ear, unable to believe what was happening. For a few minutes, she entertained the irrational anger at Carter. Why did he kiss her? And on the mouth, at that.
And what was Deacon doing in the parking lot at that precise time? He had not said he was swinging by, and Jerry had not said anything about a meeting. "Oh God." She whispered, slumping back against the chair. His voice had been so hard and uncompromising that she had no doubt he meant what he said.
But she was not going to allow him to push her away. Not now when she was carrying his baby. Fired with righteous indignation, she moved away from her desk and grabbed her coat and pocketbook. She was just heading out when Mariel came in with the soup.
"Where are you going?"
"I have something to take care of." She gestured to her desk. "Just leave it there."
"You have an appointment at one. Will you be back by then?"
She glanced at her watch. "I doubt it. Just reschedule for tomorrow first thing."
"Are you okay?"
"Yes. Just have to take care of something personal."
The lunch hour heading uptown was horrible; it was as if everyone had decided to eat out that day. She was stuck in a gridlock for twenty minutes, only to discover an accident on the freeway with police directing and diverting vehicles off that side of the road.
By the time she was cleared through and on her way to the section of town where his office was, she was already thirty minutes late. Touching the screen, she called his office number and was put through to the reception area. "Hi, good afternoon. I have an appointment with Mr. Manchester and am running late. I just want to know if he is still there."
"Let me transfer you-"
"No." She willed herself to stay calm. "That's not necessary. Could you just let me know if he is still there?"
"Let me check."
She gripped the steering wheel tight as she waited, wondering if the dragon of an assistant would somehow know that it was her calling.
"He is in his office."
