She wouldn’t deny it. “Thanks to you, I’m not the same gullible woman I used to be. I refuse to play your games anymore.”

His tone sobered. “My father’s close to dying, Phoebe. This isn’t a game.”

“I’ll come, Clark, but if you’re anywhere in the vicinity, I guarantee you I’ll walk right out the door.”

Clark laughed.

“You think this is amusing?” she demanded irritably. She refused to let Clark manipulate her as he so often had in the past.

“I like the new you,” he said, cajoling her. “I’ve seen that stubborn streak before, but there’s a new determination in you that intrigues me. If this is how you want it, Phoebe, then so be it.”

“I mean it, Clark.”

“I don’t doubt you for a moment. I won’t be anywhere near the hospital. I promise.”

She wasn’t sure she could trust him and said nothing. If he did

“just happen” to stop by, she’d keep her word. She’d simply leave.

As she hung up the phone, Phoebe closed her eyes. Why Max wanted to see her right now, she couldn’t begin to guess. Was his condition really so dire that she had to rush to the hospital immediately?

Reaching for her sweater and purse, Phoebe hurried to the parking garage. All the way to the hospital, she resisted the urge to call Hutch and tell him about this unexpected turn of events. But she couldn’t discuss Clark with Hutch because he thought her f iancé was dead. That was the problem with a lie: it occasioned other lies and soon you’d created an ever-increasing spiral of them. And when it came to revealing the truth—well, that was diff icult. She’d wanted to tell him; Hutch deserved to know about Clark. Yet she hadn’t. She was afraid her deception would taint their relationship. And the longer she delayed, the more embarrassing and awkward the truth became. Phoebe found a parking spot on a street that would be well lit once the sun went down and walked the short distance to Swedish Hospital. She wasn’t all that far from Blossom Street. Really, when she thought about it, she had a great deal for which to thank Clark. If not for him, she would never have met Alix, Lydia and Margaret, or for that matter, Hutch. Just thinking about him produced a sense of anticipation. She had Max Snowden’s room number, so Phoebe took the elevator directly to his f loor and entered the surgical ward. In the room, Phoebe found Marlene Snowden sitting by her husband’s bedside, holding his hand. Thankfully, Clark was nowhere in sight.

When she saw Phoebe, Clark’s mother released Max’s hand and rose to her feet. “Phoebe! I’m so grateful you’re here.”

Max opened his eyes and smiled, stretching out his arm. “My dear.”

“Oh, Max.” He looked pale and weak, so unlike the robust man she’d known. “I’m so sorry this happened.”

“He’s going to get better soon. It’s only a matter of time before he’s back on the golf course and we’re dancing at the country club again. Isn’t that right, Max?” Marlene gazed down at her husband. “Of course, we’ll be making some small lifestyle changes and—”

“Yes, Marlene,” her husband said, cutting her off. Marlene Snowden sighed. “I know Max wants to talk to you privately,” she said, patting her husband’s hand, “so I’ll leave you to chat.” She leaned forward and kissed Max on the brow. “I’ll go get a cup of coffee.”

Phoebe watched her go, then turned to Max. “What can I do for you?” she asked, frankly curious.

“You know I’ve always loved you,” Max said hoarsely. Phoebe nodded; the affection was mutual.

“I’m the one who talked you into taking Clark back the f irst time.”

“Yes,” she acknowledged. Pressure had come from all sides, including her own mother, but it was Max who’d convinced her to give Clark another chance. “You were so sure it would never happen again. Only it did, Max, and frankly I don’t think Clark will ever stop.”

Max shook his head in disgust. “My son can be an idiot.”

She squeezed his hand, echoing his sentiment.

“I would’ve enjoyed having you as my daughter-in-law—the daughter I never had.”

It went without saying that she would’ve enjoyed being part of the Snowden family, too.

To her horror, Max’s eyes f illed with tears. “Is there any possibility that you’d be willing to forgive Clark and marry him?”

Phoebe hardly knew how to respond. “I—”

“You don’t need to tell me that Clark deserves to lose you. If he hadn’t done this before…” He let the rest fade and turned his head to stare out the hospital window. “In my heart I know Clark loves you. You’re good for him, Phoebe. When he’s with you, Clark is a better man.”

“I’m not sure that’s true. I—”

Again Max interrupted her. “Although Marlene insists I’m going to be as healthy as ever, I’m not convinced. As far as I can tell, I’m living on borrowed time.”

“Oh, Max.” Phoebe bit her lower lip. She had only vague memories of her own father, who’d played such a minor role in her life. From the f irst she’d felt a bond with Max, who was like a second father to her.

“I want to see my son married and settled down. I’d be grateful to hold a grandchild in my arms one day, God willing. Now, I don’t know if that’ll ever happen.”

“You’ve had a fright,” she told him.

“It’s more than that, Phoebe.”

She swallowed hard. “Do you know something the doctors haven’t told your family?”

Max didn’t answer but he looked away, and she realized then that he did. She tightened her grip on his hand.

“I love my son,” Max murmured. “I know his strengths and his weaknesses. I also know he regrets this mess and that he misses you terribly. He’d do anything to get you back.”

“I don’t think that’s possible anymore,” Phoebe whispered.

“If you’d be willing to reconsider, I could have a stipulation put in my will.” Max’s gaze implored her. “If Clark ever again commits any form of inf idelity, I’d disinherit him.”

“Max, I—”

“Hear me out,” he pleaded. “You alone would inherit—not Clark. You and any children the two of you might have.”

Aware of how much it must’ve hurt him to make such a suggestion, Phoebe pressed the back of his hand against her cheek.

“Max, I’m sorry but I really don’t think that’s a solution.”

“Consider it. That’s all I ask.” Max smiled up at her, although the effort seemed to drain him.

“You need to rest.”

“I do,” he said, “but I’d sleep a whole lot easier if I knew you’d reconsider marrying Clark.” He paused as though gathering his strength in order to continue. “Clark might not admit it, but he needs you, Phoebe.”

She didn’t conf irm or deny that. Knowing Clark so well, she believed he didn’t need her as much as the evidence that he could manipulate her. What Clark craved above all was control, of everyone and everything around him.

“You’re a good woman.”

“Thank you, but…”

Max closed his eyes, his strength nearly gone. “Clark’s learned his lesson.”

“Does he know why you wanted to see me?” She had to f ind out whether Clark had a role in this before she could promise Max she’d reconsider.

“Yes,” Max whispered. “He’s desperate to have you back, on any terms, Phoebe, and asked me to help persuade you.”

Oh, very clever of him, she mused skeptically. Being an attorney, a very skilled one, meant that his father’s wishes wouldn’t stand in his way. Clark would uncover a loophole. He certainly wouldn’t allow her to take away his inheritance. None of that mattered, though.

Phoebe shook her head. “Max, I don’t want a husband tied to me because of a stipulation in a will,” she said softly. “If the bonds of love and commitment aren’t enough, then there’s nothing left to say.”

“I agree…”

“Then why—”

“The fact that I’d even ask such a thing of you proves how badly I want to see my son settled. You’re his equal in every way. Clark isn’t an easy man to love—he’s already proven that.”

Despite herself Phoebe grinned.

“I wouldn’t suggest this if I didn’t believe he was truly sorry. He swore to me that it’ll never happen again.”

“He swore that to me, as well,” Phoebe reminded him. “The f irst time.”

Max frowned. “Like I said earlier, he doesn’t deserve your forgiveness or your love.”

Phoebe debated how much to tell Max, then decided she couldn’t mislead him. “I’ve met someone else, Max.”

Max’s eyes dulled and it was several minutes before he spoke.

“Clark doesn’t know that, does he?”

Phoebe looked away. “I told him, but he didn’t take it well. That’s one of the reasons I insisted he not be here, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to come.”

Max sighed. “Forgive an old man for trying to make things right.”

“There’s nothing to forgive. You love your son.”

“I love you, too, Phoebe. I wish this had worked out differently.”

“So do I.”

Max squeezed her hand. “Thank you for being honest with me.”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention our conversation to Clark.”

“I won’t,” he assured her.

“Phoebe,” Marlene Snowden said, startling her as she stepped into the room, holding a cup of coffee. “You’re dating someone else now. It didn’t take you long, did it?”

“Marlene,” Max protested.

“Clark told me. He was in the cafeteria because you refused to see him. You were with that other man this weekend, weren’t you?” Marlene Snowden demanded in a shrill voice. “No wonder we couldn’t reach you.”

Phoebe ignored the accusation.

“How dare you accuse my son of cheating!” Marlene continued. “Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?”

“I think it’s time I left,” Phoebe said. She kissed the back of Max’s hand and walked out of the room.

Thankfully, Clark’s mother didn’t follow her. She wished Max the very best, she’d miss him painfully, but she could never marry his son.

Chapter 23

Anne Marie Roche

Beach towels tucked under their arms, Ellen and her friend, Hallie Reynolds, paced anxiously in the apartment, waiting for Anne Marie.

“Hurry, Mom!” Ellen cried. “We’ll be late.”

“No, we won’t,” Anne Marie said as she grabbed the sunblock and threw it in her beach bag. She’d lathered each of the girls earlier. They were all headed to the water park, and even now, Anne Marie wasn’t quite sure how she’d let Ellen and Tim talk her into this. She wore her swimsuit under her shorts and T-shirt, but she had no intention of going in the water. She’d leave that to Tim and the girls. Anne Marie planned to lie on the grass or the beach or whatever was there and laze away the afternoon reading.