threatening. In all honesty, I was only partially joking about wanting a man that lacked ambition.”
“I don’t lack ambition…”
Chris looked into his blue eyes. “I think I worded that badly. I was dumped by a man who placed his career above everything. I just don’t want that to happen again. This time around, I want a man with a little less ambition and a little more love of life and family-and that’s you!”
Ken studiously watched the liquid in his glass fizz in the golden light of the flickering lamps. “There are some things I have to tell you.”
Chris giggled. “You’d better tell me fast because I’m not used to drinking champagne…and I’m feeling strangely tingly and silly.”
Ken looked at her in amazement. “You’re sloshed.” He laughed, wrapping his arm protectively around her. “I think we’d better talk some other time.”
Chapter 9
“Holy cow! You look awful,” Bitsy exclaimed.
Chris blinked in the bright light of the skating rink. “I feel awful. I have a hangover. I haven’t had a hangover since I was nineteen and nobody told me the fruit punch was spiked at Tina Burger’s baby shower.” She put her fingertips to her temples. “My eyes feel like fried eggs. And my head is going wumpa wumpa wumpa. And my tongue…yuk.”
“What was the occasion?”
Chris displayed her ring and managed a painful smile.
“Oh dear.”
“What’s that mean? I expected more like wow and whoopee.”
“Remember how I said I knew Ken?”
“Yeah.”
“And remember we were fooling around, and you said he should be modeling mascara?”
“Yeah?”
“It got me thinking. I could just see those magnetic eyes looking out at me from a magazine.”
“What are you talking about?”
“It took me half of Thanksgiving, but I found him. I went through four dozen old magazines, but I finally found the picture.” Bitsy skated to the sound booth and returned holding a copy of Newsweek. “What really threw me was the beard.”
Chris held the magazine with shaking hands and stared openmouthed at the cover. It featured a clean-shaven, neatly coiffed Ken Callahan wearing a crisp white shirt, pin-striped three-piece suit, and hundred-dollar tie. The caption read “Kenneth Knight: Consolidating an Empire.” “Consolidating an empire,” Chris repeated. “What’s that mean?”
“There’s a big article about him. He’s rich.”
“But this is Kenneth Knight.”
“Looks to me like Kenneth Callahan.”
“There is a resemblance.”
“Resemblance? Chris, this is him. Nobody else has eyes like that.”
“Bitsy, this is ridiculous. This man is not Ken Callahan.”
“Look, this guy has a small scar running along the line of his jaw. Does Ken Callahan?”
Chris felt nausea grip her stomach. “Lots of men have scars on their jaws.” She leafed through the article, finding another picture. It was Ken at a construction site, wearing his shearling jacket. Chris reached for the support of the barrier.
“Are you all right?”
“I think I’m going to be sick.”
Bitsy threw an arm around her. “Let’s get you into the coaches’ lounge before you keel over. You’re absolutely green.”
Chris wobbled in beside Bitsy and gratefully sank into a club chair in the privacy of the small warming room. The magazine lay at her feet. She took the wet towel Bitsy offered and plastered it to her face. There must be some mistake. It couldn’t be Ken Callahan. Ken Callahan was a simple sweet man. He cooked potholders and ate macaroni and cheese. She trusted Ken Callahan-he wouldn’t lie to her. He wouldn’t pretend to be something he wasn’t. She took a deep breath and struggled to gain some composure, to control the panic and confusion in her mind. When she was breathing normally, she took another look at the cover. It was Ken Callahan.
A chill spread throughout her body. She shivered and hugged her arms to get warm. “Why? Why did he lie to me? I thought he was some kind of construction worker. I thought he didn’t have any money. Didn’t have any job. Didn’t have a home. I trusted him, Bitsy. I fell in love with him. Why am I always such a fool when it comes to men?”
She took a dripping fresh towel from Bitsy.
“Arggggh,” she groaned. “My head.”
“Would you like an aspirin?”
“No. I’d like a gun. I’d shoot myself in the foot to take my mind off my head…my heart.”
Bitsy thunked herself in the forehead with her fist. “I shouldn’t have told you today. Here you are with the world’s worst hangover, and I have to drop this bomb on you.”
“No. You did the right thing.”
“It’s a nice picture of him,” Bitsy said, looking at the magazine on the floor.
Chris took the book in her hand. The man on the cover was not Ken Callahan. The man on the cover had a ruthless set to his mouth that sent chills creeping down her spine. His eyes were blue-black and compelling, but they were without humor. “I’ve never seen him in a suit,” Chris said dully.
“That’s not what you were thinking.”
“I was thinking that I don’t know this man on the cover.”
“Uh-oh.”
“I didn’t know Steven, either. I rushed into marriage and found out I didn’t know him at all.”
“Double uh-oh.”
“Why does this happen to me? What is it about me that makes men lie to me?”
“You’re not going to make a big deal out of this, are you?”
“Of course I’m going to make a big deal out of this. Peas and carrots, Bitsy, he didn’t even tell me his right name.”
Bitsy giggled and wrinkled her nose at Chris. “Peas and carrots?”
Chris slapped the towel back over her face. “It’s Aunt Edna. She doesn’t allow any cussing in the house. She says that since Ken moved in she’s been hearing words she doesn’t like. Now she makes us say things like ‘peas and carrots’ and ‘holy cabbage.’”
“I kind of like ‘holy cabbage.’”
“What am I going to do? I’m so in love with the creep.”
“Why don’t you just ask him why he lied to you?”
“Because I’m afraid he’ll just feed me some slick answer.”
Bitsy shook her head. “Boy, I’m really impressed with the amount of trust going on in this relationship.”
“It’s so weird, Bitsy. Yesterday, I would have trusted him with my life…my soul. And now, I just don’t know. I don’t feel very competent when it comes to judging men. I don’t want to make another mistake.”
Bitsy sighed and looked at her watch. “I have to get back out on the ice. I have a lesson in three minutes.”
Chris nodded. “Me too. I’m working with Patti.”
Chris felt him before she saw him. There was a warm rush of pleasure that inexplicably poured from her heart to the tips of her fingers. She turned and found him standing at the guardrail with a wicker picnic basket slung over
