“Why did you call?” Summer was sure that under other circumstances she might have liked Christy Franklin.
“I wanted to tell you how happy I am that James found someone to love. I know it’s presumptuous of me but I wanted to ask a favor of you.”
“A favor?” The woman had a lot of nerve.
“Love him with all your heart, Summer. James is a special, special man and he deserves a woman who’ll stand by his side and love him.”
“I do,” she said softly.
“For quite a while I despaired of James ever getting married. I can’t tell you how pleased I was when Mom phoned to tell me Rich and Jamie had met you. Cody and I want to extend our very best wishes to you both.”
“Thank you.”
“I know it’s a lot to ask, but I do hope you’ll keep Cody and me in mind when you count your friends. There’s a place in my heart for James. He’s been a friend to our family for years. He was a tremendous help to Paul when Diane died, and again later when he married Leah. James helped Rich and Jamie, too, and he’s been a good friend to Jason and Charlotte, as well. We’re all indebted to him one way or another.”
“I do love him so much.” She was fighting back tears and not even sure what she was crying about. The fact that Ralph Southworth had resigned as James’s campaign manager because of her? Or that James’s ex-fiancée still cared for him deeply?
Summer had just replaced the receiver when James stepped into the kitchen. He stood with one hand on the door.
“Who was that on the phone?” he asked.
Summer met his look straight on, waiting to read any emotion. “Christy Franklin.”
“Christy?” he repeated. “What did she want?” He looked more surprised than anything.
“She called to give us her and Cody’s best wishes. She said it was high time you were married and she can hardly wait to meet me.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“And what did you tell her?”
Summer grinned. “I said she’s to keep her cotton-pickin’ hands off my husband.”
James chuckled, obviously delighted by her possessive attitude. “You aren’t going to get much of an argument from me.”
“Good thing,” she said, and slid her arm around his waist. Together they joined his father.
* * *
“I don’t understand it,” Summer muttered. She sucked in her stomach in order to close her skirt. “I can barely zip this up. It fit fine just last week.”
“Honey, you’re pregnant,” James said matter-of-factly.
“Three months. I’m not supposed to show yet.”
“You’re not?” James’s eyes left the mirror, his face covered with shaving cream. He carefully examined her rounded belly.
“Tell me the truth, James. If you were meeting me for the first time, would you guess I was pregnant?”
He frowned. “This isn’t one of those trick questions, is it?”
“No.”
“All right,” he said, then cleared his throat. He seemed to know intuitively that she wasn’t going to like the answer. “You do look pregnant to me. But then you are pregnant, so I don’t understand what the big deal is.”
“I’m fat already,” she wailed, and felt like breaking into tears.
“Fat is not the word I’d use to describe you.”
“If I’m showing at three months, can you just imagine what I’ll look like at nine?”
His grin revealed pride and love. “I’d say you’ll look like the most beautiful woman in the world.”
“No wonder I love you so much,” she told her husband, turning back to the closet. She sorted through the hangers, dismissing first one outfit and then another.
“Where are you going that you’re so worried about how you look?” James asked.
Summer froze. “An appointment.” She prayed he wouldn’t question her further. She’d arranged a meeting with Ralph Southworth, but she didn’t want James to know about it.
“Okay. Don’t forget tonight,” he reminded her. “We’re going to the Mannings’ for dinner.”
“I won’t forget,” she promised. “Eric and Elizabeth, right?”
“Right. Knowing Elizabeth, she’ll probably spend the whole day cooking. She’s called me at least five times in the past week. She’s anxious to meet you.”
“I’m anxious to meet them, too.” But not nearly as anxious as she was about this meeting with Southworth. In setting up the appointment, Summer hoped to achieve several objectives. Mainly she wanted Ralph to agree to manage James’s campaign again. And she wanted to prove to James that he didn’t need to protect her from gossip and speculation.
James left for court shortly after he’d finished shaving. Summer changed into the outfit she’d finally chosen, a soft gray business suit with a long jacket that—sort of—disguised her pregnancy. She spent the morning doing errands and arrived at Ralph’s office at the Seattle Bank ten minutes ahead of their one-o’clock appointment.
She announced her name to the receptionist and was escorted into Southworth’s office a few minutes later.
Ralph stood when she entered the room. He didn’t seem pleased to see her.
“Hello again,” she said brightly, taking the chair across from his desk. She wanted it understood that she wouldn’t be easily dissuaded.
“Hello,” he responded curtly.
“I hope you don’t object to my making an appointment to see you. I’m afraid I may have, uh, misled your secretary into thinking it had to do with a loan.”
“I see. Are you in the habit of misleading people?”
“Not at all,” she assured him with a cordial smile, “but sometimes a little inventive thinking is worth a dozen frustrating phone calls.”
Southworth didn’t agree or disagree.
“I’ll get to the point of my visit,” she said, not wanting to waste time, his or hers.
“Please do.”
“I’d like to know why you’ve resigned as my husband’s campaign manager.”
Southworth rolled a pencil between his palms, avoiding eye contact. “I believe that’s between James and me. It has nothing to do with you.”
“That isn’t the way I understand it,” she said, grateful he’d opened the conversation for her. “I overheard James and his father talking recently, and James said something different.”