The Marrying Kind Read online

Tomorrow would be a different day. He could face his father without feeling guilty. And he wouldn’t have to explain that his date had been the one to call a halt to the evening.

  Maybe that was what bothered him more than anything. She hadn’t wanted him! Most of the women after him wanted him because of his wealth, of course, but even that didn’t tempt Diane.

  Had he gotten lazy? John didn’t think he’d ever angered a woman enough that she gave him up. But maybe he needed to be more careful about how he treated women. He certainly hadn’t learned that from his father, who was currently on wife number five, a woman younger than John.

  With a sigh, he entered the master suite and began undressing. He’d get in bed and watch some television. That would take his mind off the infuriating Diane Black.

  Sure it would.

  DIANE STUDIED HER wardrobe the next morning. It was full of black and gray suits—what she’d learned early on constituted professional dress for a banker, male or female. The only color was an occasional muted pastel blouse. Today she actually yearned for a red jacket.

  Maybe she’d go shopping tonight. After all, her position was safe, wasn’t it? She could occasionally break the rules if she still looked professional.

  She didn’t want to question the sudden need to stand out. That would force her to think about the aggravating man she’d met last night. John Davis had irritated her more than anyone she’d ever met. Especially when she remembered that her bank, quite a large institution, had backed several of his recent projects.

  Of course, he hadn’t recognized her, because she wasn’t involved in loans. So he wouldn’t know how to get in touch with her. And that was for the best.

  She dressed in a pearl-gray suit with a silk blouse in silvery tones. It was one of her favorite outfits, and she needed her spirits lifted.

  When she reached the bank, she was her normal quiet self, calm and pleasant. Her blond hair was pinned back neatly, the only nod to femininity her discreet silver earrings.

  Once she was seated behind her desk, Diane relaxed and began her normal routine. She loved her job and understood how important it was for her customers.

  In fact, today she was taking one of her clients to lunch. Mrs. Winthrop was a dear. Her husband had made a fortune, but since his death ten years ago Mrs. Winthrop had been relying on Diane to keep the fortune intact so as to provide for her grandchildren.

  Diane was making sure that she didn’t invest the woman’s money in any risky stocks. She wanted the same thing as Mrs. Winthrop.

  In fact, she had some projections to run before lunch. It was time to focus on the people who mattered.

  And get her mind off John Davis.

  OKAY, SO THE ARRIVAL of morning hadn’t removed Diane Black from his mind. John dressed for work, thinking about the woman who’d rejected him last evening. But it wasn’t because she’d dumped him. About midnight he’d finally admitted that he’d brought that rejection on himself. He’d been arrogant.

  He’d complimented women all his life. It was how he got around them, got them to do what he wanted. But he’d been angry last night. He’d tried to force her to his will. And been irritated when she hadn’t done as he’d wanted.

  Guilt had washed through him when he realized it. He felt like an insensitive clod stomping on a delicate flower. He wanted to apologize.

  So, after he reached his office, he took out a phone book and began calling all the small banks, asking for a VP named Diane Black. By lunchtime, he’d had no luck. Had she lied to him?

  If she had, it was his fault. He’d made it impossible for her to admit to having a lowly position.

  Maybe his personal banker would know where Diane was. He was having lunch with Mark Golan today to discuss a new project for which he needed funding.

  While he’d always handled his projects successfully, John wanted to be sure he had all his ducks in a row. So he put Diane from his mind and gathered up the various drawings and charts for his presentation. That was one thing he had learned from his father—to be the consummate professional. His personal life might be a wreck, but not his business life.

  Which meant his father had the money to pay for all his mistakes, in the form of alimony for each of his three former wives. John’s mother, his dad’s first wife, had died when John was a little boy.

  He had no intention of repeating his father’s mistakes. He wouldn’t be turned by a pretty face, which were a dime a dozen for a wealthy man. Too many women looked for a meal ticket they could marry.

  He shook his head. Time to clear his mind from thoughts of Diane or his father. He needed to concentrate on business.

  He met Mark at a nearby restaurant. Over lunch they talked about sports and mutual acquaintances. John knew the drill. He wouldn’t talk about his project until they arrived back at Guaranty National Bank, the largest and most respected financial institution in the Dallas area.

  As he stepped into Mark Golan’s office, impeccably appointed to befit a VP, he began organizing his thoughts in his head. He didn’t want to make any mistakes in his presentation.

  An hour later, after his pitch, it was with relief that he heard the bank’s decision—approval of the loan he wanted to finance the work. He was surprised to find Diane returning to his thoughts almost immediately. How had she gotten such control over his mind?

  “John, you did a great presentation,” Mark said after the senior members had left his office. “You made us both look good.”

  “Glad to hear it. You’ve always been good to me, Mark. I wouldn’t want to let you down.”

  “It’s mutual. If I can ever do anything for you, just let me know.”

  “Well, there is something….” John tried to affect a casual attitude. “You pretty much know most of the banking community, don’t you?”

  “Sure. I’ve worked at a couple of different banks, plus we’re all members of a professional group. Are you looking for someone? I hope you’re not thinking of leaving me,” he joked.

  “No, of course not. But I met someone who said she was a VP in charge of investments. I figured she meant in a small bank. After all, I don’t think you have too many female bankers.”

  Mark’s eyebrows rose. “Careful, buddy. You sound way out of touch with today’s world if you think that way.”

  “Really? How many female bankers do you have?”

  “I believe we’re up to fourteen now, including a VP in charge of investments.”

  John froze. Then he cleared his throat. “Don’t tell me her name is Diane Black?”

  Chapter Two

  “How’d you know?” Mark sounded skeptical.

  “I, uh, recently met her and wanted to—to see her again.” Damn it, when was the last time he’d stuttered, talking about a woman? It must’ve been twenty years ago, when he was twelve and had a crush on Darlene Carey in the seventh grade.

  Mark looked upset. “Oh, no! You’re going to cost me my job. You keep away from Diane.”

  “What are you talking about?” John demanded.

  Though only thirty-four, Mark sounded every bit the wise old sage when he said, “John, you’re a great businessman, but you cut a wide swath through the women in Dallas. Even us staid bankers know how often you change girlfriends. And you never offer them marriage.”

  “No, I don’t. I’m not my father!”

  “I didn’t mean to imply you were, John. But don’t mess with Diane. She’s not your type and I don’t want her to get hurt.”

  “I’m not going to hurt her. I just want to visit with her for a few minutes. Surely you can’t object to that.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why do you want to visit with her?”

  “If you must know, I was rude to her last night over a misunderstanding, and I owe her an apology.”

  “That’s all?”

  “Yeah, that’s all. Now, do I need a note from my mother to get to see her?” He figured Mark heard his sarcasm. John wasn’t trying to hide his di
spleasure.

  “Yeah, okay, but remember, you promised not to hurt her.”

  “I remember.”

  “Her office is on the third floor. Just follow the signs to the investment department.”

  “Thanks, I will.” John strode out of Mark’s office and headed directly for the elevator. When he got off on the third floor, he realized he was almost running. He stopped and drew a deep breath. No need to advertise his eagerness to see her. Instead he adopted a casual stroll down the hall.

  When he entered the investments area, he was greeted by a receptionist.

  “I’d like to see Diane Black,” he told her.

  “Ms. Black has someone with her right now, but you’re free to wait, Mr.…”

  “Davis. John Davis. And yes, I’ll wait.”

  He sat down on the sofa across from the receptionist’s desk and picked up a magazine from the coffee table. He flipped through it, paying little attention to the contents.

  His attention zeroed in, however, when he saw an elderly woman exit one of the bank offices and heard the receptionist on the intercom. “A Mr. Davis to see you.”

  Diane’s voice came back through the intercom, curt and clipped. “Please tell Mr. Davis he has the wrong department. Loans are on the first floor.”

  John started walking toward Diane’s office, despite the receptionist’s protests. “Sir, you can’t just walk in on Ms. Black. Sir—”

  By that time, he had opened the door to her office. “Will you tell that young woman to stop yelling at me?”

  Diane sent him an angry look, but pushed down the intercom button. “Wendy, it’s all right. I forgot that Mr. Davis needed to talk to me about something.”

  “What do I need to talk to you about?” he asked.

  “I have no idea, but I don’t want Wendy to feel she failed me.”

  “That’s very kind of you, Diane. And I’m trying to be kind, too.”

  “How are you doing that?”

  “I was rude and arrogant last night and I wanted to apologize to you.”

  “I see. Yes, that’s very kind of you. Thank you.”

  He continued to stand there, staring at her.

  “Is there anything else?”

  “You could ask me to sit down.”

  “Why?”

  Why did people keep asking him that question? He wondered. First Mark, now her.

  Before he could reply, Diane moved to the door. “I see no need for additional conversation, John, so perhaps it would be best if you leave.”

  He deliberately sat down. “Perhaps I should remind you that I do a lot of business with this bank.”

  “That’s not necessary, Mr. Davis. I’m well aware of your past history with my bank. I’ll be glad to refer you to whoever you need to talk to to be sure your needs are met.”

  “And what if you’re the one I need to see?”

  “For what reason?”

  “I told you. I needed to apologize to you.”

  “I appreciate that, but you’ve already done so.”

  “So you’re throwing me out?”

  “Mr. Davis, I’m pointing out—rightly, I think—that I’m at work. It is not a social situation. If you have something about my job that you need to discuss, so be it. But if not, then yes, I’m throwing you out.”

  “All right, I’ll go, on one condition.”

  “And what is that?”

  “Have dinner with me tonight so I can show you I’m a changed man.”

  “So you think forcing me to have dinner with you will show me you’re no longer arrogant? Isn’t that being arrogant again?”

  He nodded, conceding the point. “Well, you’ve definitely proved one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You’re much brighter than most women I’ve met.”

  She glared at him, saying nothing.

  “You don’t consider that a compliment?” he asked.

  “No, I don’t. Your scorn for my gender is disgusting.”

  “My scorn? I was simply being honest.”

  She opened the door further. “I have nothing more to say to you, Mr. Davis.”

  “So you are throwing me out?”

  “Yes, I am.” She spoke clearly and precisely, leaving no doubt.

  “So it’s arrogant to give you credit for your brains?”

  “No, it’s arrogant for you to think you can determine a woman’s brilliance. How do you rate men?”

  He frowned. “Most of the men I work with are fairly intelligent.”

  “But the women are not?”

  “I don’t usually deal with women in my business. I mean, I’m a developer and builder. It almost always involves men.”

  “Well, Mr. Davis, in case you don’t know it, there are a lot of intelligent women out there.”

  “I’ve met some of them, but they aren’t using their brains to get to me. They use their bodies, and I don’t think they’re smart.”

  “I agree. Now, if you’ll excuse me?”

  “No dinner?”

  “No dinner.”

  He sighed. “Okay. Maybe another day.”

  She kept her expression impassive and merely stood there, waiting for him to leave.

  Without another word John returned to Mark’s office.

  “Did you see her?” his banker asked, worry creasing his brow.

  “Yeah, I saw her. How about you set up a dinner so I can talk to her?”

  “Why didn’t you ask her to dinner, if that’s what you want?”

  “I did. But she refused. She’ll only consider going out if it’s for business reasons.”

  “In other words, you’re asking me to trick her? No way, John. Diane wouldn’t like that.”

  “No, not lie to her. I’m prepared to invest a million dollars through her.”

  “You are? Why?”

  “I’m getting very tired of that question. I want to be sure I won’t ever go broke. So I’m going to make a sizable investment.”

  “That’s a good idea, John. I’m sure Diane will be happy about it, too.”

  “Can you just tell her a client wants to invest a million without giving her my name? And have her meet you at a restaurant?”

  “I suppose so.” Mark stopped short and his eyes narrowed. “You’re not going to back out on the investment, are you?”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Okay. What night is good for you?”

  “What’s wrong with tonight?”

  “I don’t know if my wife can find a sitter that soon.”

  “Call her and see,” John suggested.

  After a brief phone conversation, during which Mark’s wife promised to try to line up a sitter and let him know if she was successful, John agreed to call Mark in an hour.

  Then he left the bank, wondering what had come over him. The idea of investing had been in his mind before, but it hadn’t occurred to him lately, until he’d met Diane Black.

  DIANE LOOKED UP when her computer indicated a new e-mail had arrived. She reached for the curser and clicked it open. It was from one of the vice presidents in the loan department, indicating he had a client who wanted to invest a million dollars. She raised an eyebrow.

  Then she typed in, Sure, I’d love to meet with your client. When do you want to set it up? Lunch?

  The answer appeared almost at once. He wanted to meet this evening. I think it would be good before he changes his mind. Is that okay with you?

  Yes. Give me a time and a place, she typed in, and hit Send. After she received the information she needed, she turned off her computer. It was already past closing.

  It was only after she was in her car, heading home, that she realized she hadn’t asked the client’s name. It occurred to her that John Davis could be the client, but she dismissed the thought. Mark wouldn’t introduce her to someone who didn’t intend to invest.

  They were going to a nice restaurant, so Diane hurriedly changed into a simple black dress that she felt good in. She put on diamond ear s
tuds, a reward she’d purchased for herself after her last promotion.

  When she glanced in the mirror, she nodded to her image. She appeared festive, but conservative. Pleased with how she looked, she hurried back down to her car. She had fifteen minutes to get to the restaurant.

  Mark and his wife were sitting at a table when she entered. Diane smiled. She’d met Elizabeth several times and liked her.

  The maître d’ led her to the table and held her chair for her. She greeted the Golans and immediately said, “I forgot to ask your client’s name. Have I met him?”

  Mark opened his mouth to answer and then stopped, his gaze going to a point over Diane’s shoulder.

  She turned to find what had grabbed his attention. And discovered John Davis reaching for the chair beside her. She said nothing to John, but turned and stared at her colleague, waiting for an explanation.

  “I swear, Diane, John promised he wants to invest a million dollars. I wouldn’t mislead you.”

  After a considering look, she nodded, but still didn’t glance at John.

  “Good evening, Diane. You look lovely tonight.”

  “Thank you,” she replied coolly.

  “You, too, Elizabeth. You look much better than you did the last time I saw you,” John said with a grin.

  Diane turned to stare at him. “That’s rude.”

  “No, it’s not,” Elizabeth said. “We were on a picnic and the baby threw up all over me. I tried to clean up, but there wasn’t much I could do. Everyone did their best to avoid me.”

  “Oh, you poor dear. Was she very sick?” Since Diane had had no children or siblings, she knew little about babies.

  Elizabeth laughed again. “No. She must’ve eaten something she didn’t like. Little ones tend to throw up frequently.”

  Diane looked horrified.

  “Haven’t you ever been around babies?” John asked.

  “No.” After a moment she looked at him cautiously. “Have you?”

  “Each of my stepmothers had an ‘heir’ to cement her marriage with my father. I never did any babysitting, but I was home more than my stepmothers, so I saw the nanny deal with a lot.”

  “A nanny? Your stepmothers didn’t—No, I guess not.” After composing herself, Diane said, “So, you have four brothers and sisters?”