Deep Waters

do for every one. But it's not right. Brett is too nice, he doesn't deserve this."
    "Deserve what? Charity, you're not making any sense."
    "I've got to tell him. I hope he'll understand."
    "Maybe we should go someplace private to discuss this," Meredith said urgently. "How about the la dies' room?"
    "I don't think that's necessary." Charity rubbed her forehead. She could not concentrate. Like a gazelle at the water hole, she kept scanning the bushes, watching for lions. "With any luck, I won't be sick until after I get out of here."
    Through sheer force of will, a will that had been tempered in fire when she had assumed the reins of her family's faltering department store chain, Charity fought the panic. She made her way through the crowd toward the bar. It was like walking a gauntlet.
    Brett and Davis both turned to her as she emerged from the throng. Davis gave her a brotherly grin of welcome and raised his wineglass in a cheerful toast.
    "About time you got here, Charity," he said. "Thought maybe you got held up at the office."
    Brett smiled affectionately. "You look terrific, honey. Ready for the big announcement?"
    "No," Charity said baldly. She came to a halt in front of him. "Brett, I am very, very sorry, but I can't go through with this."
    Brett frowned. "Something wrong?"
    "Me. I'm wrong for you. And you're wrong for me. I like you very much. You've been a good friend, and you would have made a fine business partner. But I can't marry you."
    Brett blinked. Davis stared at her slack-jawed. Meredith's eyes widened in shock. Charity was dimly aware of the hush that had descended on the nearby guests. Heads turned.
    "Oh, lord, this is going to be even worse than I thought," Charity whispered. "I am so sorry. Brett, you're a fine man. You deserve to marry for love and passion, not for friendship or business reasons."
    Brett slowly put down his glass. "I don't under stand."
    "Neither did I until now. Brett, I can't go through with this engagement. It would not be fair to either of us. We don't love each other. We're friends and business associates, but that's not enough. I can't do it. I thought I could, but I can't."
    No one said a word. Everyone in the room was now staring at Charity, transfixed. The panic surged through her again.
    "Oh, God, I've got to get out of here." She swung around and found Meredith blocking her path. "Get out of the way. Please."
    "Charity, this is crazy." Meredith caught hold of her shoulders. "You can't run off like this. How can you not want to marry Brett? He's perfect. Do you hear me? Perfect."
    Charity could hardly breathe. She was reeling from the shock of her own actions, but she could not pull back from the brink. A devil's brew of guilt, anger, and fear scalded her insides.
    "He's too big." She flung out her hands in a help less, desperate gesture. "Don't you see? I can't marry him, Meredith. He's too big."
    "Are you crazy?" Meredith gave Charity a small shake. "Brett is a wonderful, wonderful man. You're the luckiest woman alive."
    "If you think he's so damn wonderful, why don't you marry him yourself?" Horrified at her loss of control, Charity jerked free of her stepsister's grip. She hurtled straight into the crowd.
    The stunned onlookers dodged this way and that to clear a path for her. Charity dashed across the Oriental carpet and out through the French doors of the lounge.
    She did not pause in the mellow, old-world club lobby. A startled doorman saw her coming and leaped to open the front door for her. She rushed past him and went down the front steps, precariously balanced on her three-inch heels. She was breathless when she reached the sidewalk in front of the club.
    It was five minutes after eight on a summer evening. Downtown Seattle was still basking in the late sun light. She spotted a cab that was just pulling up to the curb.
    The rear door of the cab opened. Charity recognized the middle-aged couple who got out. George and Charlotte Trainer. Business acquaintances. Invited guests. Important people.
    "Charity?" George Trainer looked at her in surprise. "What's going on?"
    "Sorry, I need that cab." Charity pushed past the Trainers and leaped into the backseat. She slammed the door. "Drive."
    The cab driver shrugged and pulled away from the curb. "Where to?"
    "Anywhere. I don't care. Just drive. Please." From out of nowhere, an image of the open sea flashed through her mind. Freedom. Escape. "No, wait, I know where I want to go. Take me down to the