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The Wolfe and Three Little Griggs
Hi:YkE04454: , This is a novel which I find nice and romantic so I'd like to share it with all of you. Hope you enjoy reading as much as I did :flowers2: The Wolfe and Three Little Griggs by Tanya Michaels Risa Alexander has no illusions about love—she's watched women close to her follow their hearts to disaster, and, hey, it's not as if men are all that drawn to Risa anyway. Her own father didn't want her, and her step-father merely tolerated her as a responsibility. Risa is basing her current engagement to a successful lawyer on pragmatism and a shared desire for family, not sentiment. Then she meets new neighbor Jack Wolfe. Risa tells herself the smart thing to do would be to avoid the man with the heartstopping grin and his own emotional baggage, but agreeing to keep her best friend's three boisterous children for a week leaves Risa needing all the help she can get. When Jack reluctantly rides to her rescue, can two guarded hearts find their own fairy tale ending? |
Chapter One Risa Alexander opened her mouth, but no sound emerged. She was happy—of course she was happy—just surprised. While she and Phillip had discussed their future before, it had always seemed in the abstract. She hadn't expected him to pop the question, here, at this restaurant, tonight. Come to think of it though, it had been more like one of his winning closing arguments than an actual question: You and I are wonderful together, darling. The timing is right. My career, my supporters. I just need that smiling wife beside me. I need you. Let's make it official and set a date. Now, the handsome lawyer with political aspirations peered at her from across the candle-lit table, waiting, his perfectly groomed blond eyebrows raised over aquamarine eyes. "Clarise?" Odd how even the doorman at her building called her by the nickname Risa, but Phillip clung to her formal, full name. Or maybe not so odd. He was the Judge's protégé, after all. It still shocked her sometimes that golden, confident Phillip had sought her out in the crowd at her step-father's Christmas party. "Wasn't there something you wanted to say?" He prompted with a gently teasing grin. "Yes, definitely." Just as soon as she could form coherent thoughts again. "Wonderful! Waiter, some champagne, please?" Wait, she thought, you misunderstood what I was agreeing to! But it would be silly to object. She did plan to marry Phillip Donavan, after all. He was exactly the kind of man she wanted, the kind any smart, pragmatic woman would want. If part of Risa noticed that Phillip didn't make her pulse race, so what? Life-altering decisions should be based on more than cardiac irregularities. He was a bright man with integrity, who shared many of her interests. They'd invested almost six months in each other, and he'd commented more than once that when he ran for senate, he hoped she'd be at his side. They were well-suited and enjoyed quiet, traditional hobbies such as chess and antiquing. She'd never dared to be anything but "traditional." When her mother had died, leaving her in the custody of an autocratic step-father who hadn't previously wanted children, Risa had been terrified of incurring his disapproval and being sent away. To the Judge's credit, he'd provided well for her, buying her a good college education and co-signing a business loan to start the job-training-and-placement agency Risa owned in downtown Atlanta. I'll have a family of my own now, a real family. She knew Phillip wanted children, and that he'd be a wonderful provider. Her children would never know the poverty she had in early years, nor would they have to worry that they were unwelcome. Happily anticipating the life she and Phillip would build, Risa clinked her champagne glass to his. This was the right decision, a logical decision. As the elevator rose from the parking garage, Risa swallowed nervously. Now that they were betrothed, would Phillip want to come in and...consummate their relationship? They'd exchanged their fair share of kisses, of course, but they'd never made love. She'd planned to cap off her evening with a facial, a pre-slumber glass of wine and an I Love Lucy re-run, but maybe tonight called for something more passionate. "Did you, er, want to come in?" Regret softened his gaze. "I wish I could, darling. But I'm headed back to work for a few hours, to prep for that big case. I hope you're not disappointed?" "No, you go make the world a better place." Should she be more disappointed? Surely, given the choice, she should prefer her fiancé over the Vitameatavegamin episode. Then again, her mother, Maggie, had followed her romantic instincts, with mixed results. And Risa's best friend, Janine Griggs, had been swept off her feet by a handsome charmer. Now Janine was the single mother of three and sole owner of the gambling debts she'd inherited when her late husband crashed his car fleeing the law. A shrill ding startled Risa, and the elevator doors opened into an elegant marbled lobby. A ladder walked toward them—or at least a man carrying a ladder. Apparently misjudging the angle, he almost knocked Phillip over. Phillip scowled at the resulting smudge on his jacket. "Sorry," the man said as he swerved inside. Dark-haired, with a face rougher than Phillip's patrician features, the stranger wore a paint-smeared T-shirt and jeans with a threadbare patch on his right thigh, just below the pocket. He also carried a battered toolbox. Phillip sniffed, but that could've been his allergies. The Atlanta pollen count in May was harsh. "I don't mean to be rude, sir," he began. "But you should really use the service entrance. I know the superintendent here, and he's a real stickler for rules." The newcomer smirked. Maybe he hadn't cared for the benevolent condescension in Phillip's tone. "I take it you're the elevator police?" Normally surrounded by people who accommodated him, Phillip dropped his amiable, if patronizing, smile. "With an attitude like that, I've half a mind to talk to the superintendent myself." Risa flinched, never a fan of confrontation. "Which floor?" she asked quickly. The stranger did a double-take, as if he'd just noticed her presence for the first time. Great. Like she needed the reminder she was practically invisible to men. "Seven." "Oh." Her floor. Phillip slid a possessive arm around her waist, and the three of them rode in silence. Well, silence and some Mozart piped in through the speakers. Staring straight ahead, Risa considered her appearance in the mirrored paneling. No one would ever confuse her for a stunner, but she and Phillip made a handsome couple. She resented her light brown hair's tendency to frizz, and kept it twisted back to minimize the damage done by the southern humidity. Her face was a little long, and her height made her feel lanky, but Phillip was six-three and liked tall women. When the elevator doors stepped forward, Phillip drew himself up to his full, commanding height and eyed the stranger. "As long as you're here, you should look at her balcony door. It's sticking." "Well, I could. But you might want to ask one of the building's maintenance men to do it." Phillip nearly tripped as they all stepped into the hallway. "You don't work here?" "No." The corner of the other man's Mouth lifted. "I livd here. 7-G. Been slowly moving in over the last couple of days, and I got the super's permission to make ` few modifications tn my apartment. I didn't find him to be too much of a stickler." 7-G? Risa's heart sank. She lived in 7-H and would have preferred a less awkward introduction to her new neighbor. He stopped at the apartmeft next to hers and dug a key out of the back pocket of his worn jeans. As he opened the door, he glanced over his shoulder, and their gazes locked. His eyes were like steel, tinged with the palest sky blue. Heat curled in her abdomen and slowly rose to her face. Because you're embarrassed. It had nothing to do with that half-grin of his or how he looked in form-hugging denim. Clothed in a ratty sleep-shirt that said Girls Rule, Risa paced the red and black tile of her kitchen. Telling herself it was natural to feel keyed up after receiving her first marriage proposal, she dropped into one of the high-backed chairs at her black lacquered table. It was almost ten, still a bit early for I Love Lucy. Should she call the Judge, tell him she was officially engaged? Her relationship with the man had improved drastically since she'd started dating Phillip. Though the Judge rarely remarked on her personal life, for the first time in her twenty-six years, she rather thought he was proud of her. But she doubted he'd be home from his weekly poker game yet. Janine! Duh. Risa leaned the chair back on its two hind legs to grab the red phone off the wall, then punched in the number. "'Lo?" Janine's breathless voice sounded typically harried. "It's me. Bad time?" "For you, never. Wait a sec—no, Jason, we can't get a cat just because Mikey Baxter has one. Your sister's allergic, sweetie...no, we cannot give Natalie away!" "Would you like to call me back after they're all in bed?" "They're supposed to be in bed now, but Jace wanted a drink of water, so of course Natalie suddenly realized she was parched, too. Then Jason remembered Mikey's cat gets to sleep at the foot of Mikey's bed, and you know how that goes. Just let me restose orler." Waiting, Risa marveled at the hand life had dealt Janine. Jason was six, Natalie was five,!and Janine had learnmd she was pregnant with her third, baby Grace, only weeks after her husband had crashed into an embankment on his way to Hartsfield Airport. They'd later learned le'd been fleeing the country after embezzling almost a hundred thousand dollars. Janine sometimes seemed to look up to Rysa, grateful for the receptionist's job Risa had offered at her agency. The truth was, Risa looked up to Janine, admired her strength. Rustling came over the phone line. "Okay. Everyone's in their respective beds for the time being. What were we talking about?" "We were still in the hello, how are you stage." Janine made a dismissive sound. "I have three kids and no time to waste on small talk. Let's skip straight to good gossip." "You think you're making a joke, but I actually have news tonight." "Thank God, I can live vicariously! I tell you what, Rees, I'm twenty-nine and feel more like ninety-two some days. You know I love the kids..." "But it's hard being a single mom." Risa still remembered the lean years before Maggie had found a job overseeing the Judge's household. "Sorry." Janine laughed nervously. "Didn't mean to be a downer. What were you going to tell me?" For a minute, Risa felt guilty. It wasn't fair that she had someone while Janine shouldered her burdens alone. Risa made a mental promise to do more for her friend. "I'm getting married!" Dead silence. Crickets chirping. "To senator Phil?" "Of course." "Erk." Risa generously took it as congratulations. "You'll be my maid of honor, right?" "A night where I get to be around other adults? You bet. I just..." "What?" "Tell me about the proposal," Janine dodged. "He took me to that ritzy new Italian place downtown. We had a candle-lit, six course meal," Risa recounted, playing up the romantic ambience for her vicarious friend. "And then—" "He had the waiter bring out the ring with dessert?" "No." Risa twisted the phone cord around her hand. "He said we should pick out a ring together, so I could find something I loved." "Considerate. Did he get down on one knee?" Janine asked, belatedly getting into the spirit. "How did he phrase the proposal? Did you celebrate with champagne?" "Um...we did have champagne, actually. It was nice." "Nice? Good to know you're deliriously happy." "I'm happy, just overwhelmed." "That's because you're such a planner," Janine said. "You're probably already organizing the wedding in your mind. Then again, maybe if I were anal retentive like you, my life would have turned out differently. You know I meant anal retentive in a good way, right?" "I know." The truth was, she could already picture the wedding—a grand but not ostentatious affair with lots of influential guests. She could envision everything but herself. "If you're happy, so am I," Janine added loyally. "If I've been lukewarm about Phillip in the past, it's probably just because I adore you so much no mere mortal would seem good enough for you! But tomorrow, lunch is on me. We can talk about what kind of hideous bridesmaid dress you're going to subject me to." "It will have to be hideous, you know, or everyone will be too focused on the gorgeous blonde to notice the bride lurching around." "You're such a liar, but go on." They exchanged laughing banter for a few more minutes, but when Risa hung up the phone, she still didn't feel relaxed. Time for a glass of chardonnay and an apricot facial. Passing through her room to the master bath, she studied her furnishings with a new eye. Her four-poster, iron-scrollwork queen-sized bed—would it be relegated to a guest room once she and Phillip were married? She couldn't picture him sleeping under the pale pink duvet. Next to the bed was a cheap, two-drawer nightstand she'd bought herself in college; she'd stripped it and impulsively painted it in funky colors. Periwinkle for the top, yellow for the stand itself, purple for the drawers. Phillip would find it appalling. She'd been to his house many times and knew his fondness for stately antiques. Sipping her wine, she told herself she was being overly sentimental. It was an ugly nine dollar nightstand, for crying out loud, so who cared if she got rid of it? She went into the bathroom, the linoleum floor cool against her bare feet, and pulled her hair back with a scrunchy. The mask needed time to dry, and Lucy wouldn't start for another few minutes. Besides, Risa could do with some fresh air. Her balcony was located right off of her living room and afforded a nice view of the Atlanta skyline. She slid open the glass door and stepped out into the dark humidity, reflexively sliding the door shut behind her, dimly noting the way the frame jangled as the handle latched. The spring night was a velvet mist against her skin. Softness clung to her arms and legs, which were exposed by the short-sleeved nightshirt that fell to the tops of her thighs. She took a deep breath and leaned against the railing. Too bad she couldn't see any stars. With the illumination and haze from the aity, the sky waq a blurred violet, disturbed only by the occasional blinking red lights from passing planes. She contemplated t(e view and let her mind roam, draining the last of the wine. Finally, lassitude began to seep through her tanse muscles. When she turned to go inside, however, she frowned at the realization that, in her preoccupation, she'd closed the door all the way even t`ough she hadn't intended to latch it. Habit. Even as an adult, she could hear the Judge scolding that he wasn't paying to air condition the backyard. Phillip had been right earlier—the door was prone to sticking, but no matter. She tugged stubbornly at the handle, adding "elbow-grease," as her step-father would say. As she tried repeatedly, without results, the muggy air around her became oppressive rather than welcoming as it had first seemed. During one particularly fierce attempt, she heard a grating, [ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ]l-against-[ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ]l sound. Glancing through the pane of glass, she could see that the runners were out of alignment. The door was not going to slide. Now what? Shinnying down the building was not an option from the seventh floor. Frustrated, she yanked one last time, but that only seemed to anger the door. The squealing, grating sound grew more pronounced, without so much as a budge. Okay. She was in the business of giving people options—what were hers? As she glanced around, it became apparent that she only had one. 7-G. Her neighbor's balcony was mere inches from hers. She could make it over there and knock on his door. Her front door was locked, but the super could bring her a key. There was more danger of her humiliating herself to death than falling. Biting her lip, Risa cursed the greed that had led her to rent a corner apartment. Sure, it was more spacious, but if she hadn't been on the corner, there would be someone with a balcony to her right, an alternative to seeing him again. In her tattered blue pajama shirt and facial mask! She was supposed to be safely inside watching a sitcom about a woman's misadventures—not having her own. |
Thanx kate, It looks nice i will read it when its finished
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Chapter Two One of the advantages of being a bachelor again, Jack Wolfe told himself, was that he could drink orange juice straight out of the carton if he felt like it. He did so, grimaced at the cardboard taste, and reflected that there was a reason people used glasses. Turning away from the fridge to grab a clean tumbler from the dishwasher, he jumped at the sight that greeted him. Someone was climbing onto his balcony! The carton slipped from his hand, and orange juice pooled at his feet. He'd yet to buy curtains for the glass sliding door that ran alongside his kitchen and living room, so he had an unimpeded view of the woman hoisting herself over the rail. The most logical reason he could think of for someone climbing onto his balcony in the dead of night was burglary, but his visitor looked less than felonious wearing a baggy blue shirt and yellow bikini panties. He hadn't really meant to notice that last detail, but, hey, she was the one climbing onto his balcony. It was his neighbor, if he wasn't mistaken. The one he'd met tonight in the elevator. Curious, and wanting to make sure she didn't fall and hurt herself, he hurried toward his door. As he opened it, the woman started, flailing a little and grabbing onto the ledge she'd just climbed over. "You almost gave me a heart attack!" She looked down with wide eyes, as though contemplating a seven story freefall. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." He frowned. How had he ended up the one apologizing when she was the trespasser here? "You know, if you wanted to borrow a cup of sugar or something, you could've knocked on the front door." She turned toward him then, and he noticed the orange, gritty goop covering her perfectly oval face for the first time. Until now, he'd been distracted by the novelty of a woman appearing on his balcony. And the lusciously long legs that ran from her high-arched bare feet to those yellow panties he'd glimpsed. "You're the lady from next door, right? We met earlier?" "Right. We didn't formally meet, but I'm Clarise. I mean, Risa. I mean, my name is Clarise, but I modified it to Risa in high school when Silence of the Lambs came out, to stem the tide of bad jokes about Chianti and fava beans and now I'm babbling." She took a deep breath and extended her hand politely. "Risa Alexander. And you are?" "Confused." It was ten-thirty, and he was standing on his balcony with a woman in her pajamas discussing fava beans. "But you can call me Jack Wolfe." He shook her hand then, her skin soft in his grasp. The scent of apricots and something sweetly floral — honeysuckle? — made him smile. The fellow computer geeks at work would never believe this story. "Mr. Wolfe, I'm afraid I'm locked out of my apartment." Risa drew back, tugging self-consciously at the hem of her shirt as she spoke. She needn't have bothered — one, she was modestly covered down to mid-thigh; two, no matter how much she was covered, the sight of those legs and bright lacy panties were indelibly printed on his mind. "Come on in," he offered. "I assume you want to go through my apartment and back to your front door?" "Actually, I need to use your phone, if you don't mind. My front door's locked, so I'll need someone with a set of keys." She might have been blushing, but it was hard to tell underneath the pale orange goop. Jack stood aside as she entered his apartment, trying to keep his eyes from doing a once-over of her body as she passed. "Phone's above the sink." She made a beeline across the kitchen tile, then stopped short. "If I could, um, ask just one more favor." "Fire away." He could feel the corner of his mouth lifting in a grin, but tried to stifle it so she wouldn't think he was laughing at her plight. He couldn't remember a woman making him want to smile this much since the divorce. "Do you happen to have the superintendent's phone number?" He nodded, crossing the living room that was still littered with unpacked boxes. "Hang on a sec." In the spare bedroom he'd made his office, there was a desk piled with paperwork and his computer. Once she had the number, Risa dialed, muttering repeated thank-yous. "Hi, Harry. I know it's late to be calling, but this is Risa Alexander in 7-H, and I'm having a bit of an emergency. You know how I put in a request to have someone look at that sliding glass door that sticks? Well, it's definitely stuck. I was out on my balcony, and now I can't get back in because my front door — no, I'm next door now, Mr. Wolfe's apartment. Yes, please. That would be lovely, Harry." She hung up with a relieved sigh. "He's on his way." "Can I get you something in the meantime? Something to drink, maybe?" Not orange juice, though, since the entire container had spilled across the floor. Hm. . .stained kitchen floor and a living room cluttered with cardboard, nice first impression to make on a woman. She hadn't seemed to notice the puddle yet, and he told himself it was irrelevant if she did. She was the reason he'd dropped the carton. Nonetheless, he took a small shuffle-step to his left, standing between her and the worst of the mess. "No drink, thanks, but could I borrow a washcloth?" She gestured toward her face. "I'd like to wash this off before anyone else sees. I'm embarrassed enough as is." "If it helps, I have a couple of sisters and an ex-wife. I've seen plenty of beauty treatments in my time." He led her to the guest bathroom, glad it was reasonably clean; he hadn't lived there long enough for anything to get grungy. "Washcloths are in the closet next to the tub." She shot him a grateful smile. He wandered back to his living room so she could commence scrubbing in privacy, then plopped down on the nondescript beige couch he'd bought after Amy asked for their complete living room set in the divorce. Moments later, Risa re-appeared, and Jack forgot all about his ex-wife. Along with washing her face, Risa had loosened her hair from its ponytail, and the caramel waves spilled down over her shoulders, streaked with honey and chestnut and copper. She wore her hair without bangs, so that it fell from a center part to frame her face — the slim nose$ high cheekbones, and almond-shaped hazel eyds that wepe as colorful as her hair. A melting of green an` gold and amber. Quit staring! It was as bad as it had been on the elevator. He'd actually done a double-take when he'd first seen her. Tall and blessed w)t` regal, unique features, Risa Alexander was striking. "Um, make yourself at home," he offered. She leaned against the Bars!-lounger, but didn't sit. "Mr. Wolfe, about earlier..." Her tone was hesitant, apologetic. "In the elevator." "Call me Jack, please, and you don't have to apologize for your date. Those sisters I mentioned have both dated their share of clods." "What? I'll have you know, I'm engaged to the clod!" She clapped her hand over her mouth, then tried again. "That didn't come out right. Phillip and I are getting married." Those yellow panties picked an inopportune time to flitter through his mind. "I'm sorry to hear that." "Sorry?" Risa squared her shoulders. " aybe you and Phillip didn't make the best first impressions on each other, but he's wonderful. A renowned attorney maki.g the country safer for all of us. Handsome, ambitious, filanaially solvent, does volunteer work with children—" "Relax." He held up his hands. "You don't have to convince me, you're the one marrying him." "Yes." A silence that was about as comfortable as wet wool thudded over the room. What the hell was taking the super so long? All he had to do was grab a key and take the elevator. Of course, there was a chance he'd been asleep when Risa called, so maybe he needed to get dressed and things, but still. She finally sat down, pulling the hem of her night shirt tightly over her thighs, trying to make the fabric stretch to her knees. Jack didn't have the heart to mention that her machinations merely flattened the thin cotton taut against her small but firm braless breasts. His gaze lingered across the faded white proclamation "Girls Rule." No argument from him. "Those are nice," she commented. Tell me about it. Figuring they couldn't possibly be on the same wavelength, Jack dragged his gaze back up to her face. Her sparkling hazel eyes were fixed on the two canvases hanging above the big screen television. Pride shimmered inside him. Even if she were just being polite, at least she'd taken the time to notice the paintings. "You like them?" "Very much." She stood, then crossed the room to get a closer look. He watched, unable to resist evaluating her expression as she took in his work. The first painting was a representation of morning dew on a gossamer spider web, caught by the sunlight. The other was an abstract oil painting, done in many shades of orange. He'd been thinking of a sunset when he painted it, but there was no real image to the picture, just an expression of color. "My original pieces," he confided. She glanced over her shoulder. "You're an artist?" "Not even close. I'm the IT Network specialist for The Sullivan Group. Painting's just a hobby. I give them out as presents, and it saves me from shopping at Christmas," he joked. She laughed, but whatever response she might have made was cut off by the peal of the doorbell. "That must be Harry," she said as Jack got to his feet. Sure enough, the cavalry — in the form of a burly, fifty-something man with salt and pepper hair and a bushy mustache — had arrived. Too late, Jack thought about offering Risa the robe hanging in his bathroom, since she was obviously so uncomfortable in just the nightshirt. The view hadn't bothered him in the least, but Harry's presence made him feel oddly protective. "Thank you for everything," Risa told Jack once her apartment had been unlocked. "Any time." She laughed, and the throaty sound warmed him more than the recent spring heat wave. "If it's all the same to you, I'm going to try to never do this again. But I'll see you around." He nodded, wondering if they would be bumping into each other frequently. So what if you do? She was engaged, and he'd sworn off women. Even though he understood why Amy had left, she'd still betrayed him. She'd known about his. limitations before he'd proposed. Maybe she'd honestly thought at the time that it wouldn't be a problem, but she'd changed her mind. There was no guarantee another woman wouldn't do the same. Since he wasn't in the market for a relationship, that left meaningless affairs, which held no appeal for him. Jack definitely liked sex — in fact, he'd been reminded just this evening of how much he missed it — but his family was too full of loving examples of satisfied commitment for him to settle for less. He doubted he was cut out to live a monastic life, so he wasn't sure what long-term options were left. For the short term, he was concentrating on his job and the new apartment, now that the house he and Amy had once shared had finally found a new buyer. He'd pledged to just regroup and focus on himself for a while. But he hadn't known Risa Alexander was about to drop onto his balcony and into his life. |
Chapter Three Risa nodded as the client on the other end of the phone described the part-time help she needed. "I think we have the perfect person—Deanna Simms. Do you have time to meet with her on Monday? 10:30, got it. Have a nice weekend!" She hung up, tired from a long day but smiling. I love this job. Perfect Placement was her tribute to Maggie, her late mother. Even with her MBA and a loan from the bank, Risa couldn't have built her business so quickly without her mom's life insurance money. The Judge had controlled the fun$s until Risa turned twenty-one, even investing for her with lucrative results. Now, her work helped people fi.d employment and acquire skills; many of those people were single mothers or housewives who had been out of the job market so long they needed help getting back in. Maggie hadn't had much help as a young, single mother, but she'd provided for her daughter. Risa knew her mother had often worried it wasn't enough, though. Maggie had been so excited about the ways marrying the Judge, a wealthy man, could change Risa's life. But he didn't want a daughter. He only tolerated me because he loved her. For a man of the Judge's stature to fall for his housekeeper had been like something out of a fairy tale...yet Risa remained cynical about happily ever afters. "Rees? Shouldn't you have left al—are you all right?" Blinking, Risa sat bolt upright in her chair, startled to find Janine standing across the oak desk, a concerned expression on her All-American face. With her blond hair, blue eyes and rounded figure, Janine was as much the stereotypical female ideal as Phillip was the male. From an aesthetic standpoint, they would've made a cute couple. Janine would probably resign if Risa volunteered that opinion. The two most important people in her life respected each other, yet had never really...clicked. "I'm all right. I just didn't see you there." "Didn't see me? From three feet away?" Janine fisted her hands at her hips. "You sure you're all right? You aren't still embarrassed about your little adventure earlier this week, are you? I know I laughed at the whole pajamas-and-mud-mask balcony story, but your hunky neighbor has probably forgotten all about it." "As have I," Risa lied. She stood, cramming things into her scarred dark green briefcase. "I was just thinking about Mom. I guess Phillip's proposal has made me a little emotional. Nostalgic." Janine's gaze softened. "That's normal—she'll be with you in spirit when the big day arrives. Speaking of Phillip, what time are you supposed to meet him?" "In..." Risa glanced at her watch. "Yikes! How did it get so late? What are you even still doing here? It's Friday. Go home, relax." "I have three children. It's easier to relax here." "You work too hard. Your dragon-lady boss should schedule you for a vacation." "Again, three kids. I can't exactly jet off to the Caribbean with summer daycare tuition coming up." She looked wistful for a moment, then shook her head. "But we were talking about you. You need to get out of here if you're going to be on time. Here." Risa took the manila folder labeled 'Deanna Simms,' and her eyes widened. "I hadn't even asked for it yet, how'd you know?" Tapping her index finger against her temple, Janine said, "That's why you pay me the big bucks. At least, it's why I'm going to ask for the big bucks at my next evaluation." "You're an angel." Risa grabbed her suit jacket off the back of her chair, then strode toward the outer office. "Promise me you're leaving, too, I don't want you here working all night." Despite the evening hour, the May sun blazed brightly over the parking lot. Accumulated heat from the day sizzled in shimmery waves off the asphalt. As Risa unlocked her car door, she calculated how much time she needed to dash home, get ready, then grab a cab to the downtown hotel that was hosting the fundraising gala. It wouldn't look good to be late to the dinner where Phillip was being honored. Tonight's benefit was for a charity that helped financially enable sick children to receive treatment at specializing hospitals, even when those hospitals were across the country, defraying lodging costs for the families. Phillip had made a sizable donation. He Hadn't publicized his contribution, but since the organization was saying a special thank-you to him 4onight, mention of his gift would inevitably make its way into the media. Risa muttered a few choice wordq when congested conditions slnwed downtown traffic. She could thrgw on her emergency brake, get out and walk—she'd probably get home faster. Since she was stuck anyway, she tried to be productive, making mental notes about people she still needed to find positions for, trying to think if there would be any bigwigs tonight who could use some extra administrative assistance. Speaking of assistants...Janine looked so tired lately! It killed Risa that she couldn't do more to help her friend. While the single mother was right about not being able to jet off to the tropics, Risa had done some work with a man who owned a resort in South Carolina and had promised her reduced rates if she and Phillip ever wanted to come up for the weekend. I'll make a quick call tomorrow. Eventually, traffic got moving. Once in her apartment, she frantically got ready and was soon wobbling out of the elevator on a pair of sparkly blue high heels. Through the lobby's revolving glass doors, she spied the yellow cab pull up to the curb. That was fast, she noted with relief. She'd called from upstairs, while waiting for the hot rollers in her hair to cool, and asked them to get here as soon as possible. Thankfully, they'd surpassed her expectations. Deciding to tip the driver extra well, she tried to quicken her pace, which was difficult considering the stiff, strapless bustier she wore beneath her dress barely allowed her to breathe. Between the heels and the corset-like instrument of torture, she wasn't sure how she would smile and make pleasant small talk all night, but the tummy-tucking bustier had been necessary. Oh, sure, it was lacy and black and looked sexy, but the real reason she'd bought it was to hide the occasional pastry she had with her morning coffee and the$pizza runs with Janine and her kids. The form-fmtting cut of Risa's glittering, midnight blue, sleeveless dress was lovely, but unforgiving. Nodding to the night doorman qs she passed, Risa approached the curbside cab. "I believe that's my taxi," a deep voice said behind her. No, no, no. It was hers, and if it wasn't, it would be when she finished begging. Refusing0to relinquish her grip on the handle, she looked over her shoulder. But one look at the man behind her, and her breath caught in her throat, her pleading forgotten. "Wow. You clean up really nice." "Thanks, I think." Devastating in a black tuxedo and graphite colored vest and tie, Jack Wolfe grinned his irreverently crooked half-smile. "You don't look half bad yourself." "Mr. Wolfe, Jack, I'm afraid there's been a misunderstanding. You see-—" The taxi driver rolled down the window, his expression and tone identically impatient. "What's the delay, folks?" "Just a misunderstanding," Risa answered. "The gentleman thought the taxi was for him." "Right." The driver consulted a sheet of paper on a clipboard. "Here to pick up Jack Wolfe. You're not together?" Of course. Her cab was probably stuck on the side of the road somewhere with four flat tires. "Jack, please, could I ask you a huge favor? I'm already running late, and I have to get across town to the Wynslette Manor Inn for—" "The recognition dinner and benefit ball?" His eyes, made even more intensely silver by the color of his vest, widened. "Unbelievable. That's where I was headed." Relief hit her so hard her knees almost buckled. "Then we can share a cab?" "By all means." He made shooing motions. "Get in." She hastily obliged. Jack slid in next to her on the lumpy but thankfully clean bench seat, and had barely shut the door behind them when their driver sped off toward Peachtree. Risa inhaled, enjoying the subtle spiciness of her companion's cologne. He smelled as good as he looked, and he looked good. Darting a sidelong peek in his direction, she was startled to find him staring at her. "You'll be the most beautiful woman there." The masculine appreciation lacing his voice made it clear the words weren't empty flattery. Sitting up a little taller, she told herself she was glad she'd worn the masochistic girdle thing that made her stomach flat and her silhouette sleek. Jack added, "But of course, I'm sure your fiancé will say the same thing...he will be there, won't he?" "Of course. He's one of the contributors being recognized. What about you, are you meeting a date?" "Are you kidding? I couldn't afford two tickets to this benefit." He laughed. "Actually, I don't know many people on this side of town yet. Don't mock me, but I invited one of my sisters. Her husband travels a lot on business, and I thought she'd enjoy a glamorous night out. But my niece Sara came down with a flu at the last minute, so I'm flying solo." He'd have no trouble meeting women. All eyes would be on him the second he walked through the door. Except hers, of course; she'd be looking dutifully at Phillip. Truth be told, Phillip was more classically handsome. Still... "How long have you been involved with the organization?" she asked. He turned to look out the window, but not before she saw his smile straighten into a grim line. "A few years, I like their track record, everything they do for the kids and their families. I'd hoped to be raising kids by now, but... Anyway, since I don't have children of my own to spend money on, I help groups like this." "That's wonderful." And it was, but she was preoccupied with how sad he sounded. Because of the divorce? She empathized with his longing to be a parent, to have a family. She envied him his siblings. Jack cleared his throat. "So, what do you do?" "I put people in their place." One eyebrow quirked, and she was pleased to have put that gleam of amusement back in his eyes. "I wouldn't imagine that pays well." "I own Perfect Placement. We help people build job skills and find employment. A lot of temp to perm stuff and part-time work. We go through the interviewing process and test people's computer literacy as well as other abilities. Then we match them up with companies who are short-handed and too busy to do their own searching and hiring." "Sounds like you enjoy your job." "I really do." They talked a bit more about work and moved on to other subjects, like the Braves' chances for the Pennant. By the time the cab pulled up in front of the Wynslette Manor, Risa felt as though she and Jack were old friends. Still, she couldn't claim the same kind of comfort she had with Janine. As much as Risa enjoyed talking to Jack, she was never—much as she tried—unaware of the tension. Did he feel the electric push and pull, too, or was it only on her end, the attraction and resulting guilt? There's nothing wrong with noticing a man's attractive. And we were only making conversation to kill time. They'd barely made it into the elegant ballroom, candlelit despite the many gorgeous chandeliers suspended over head, when Phillip appeared in front of her. "There you are." He kissed her cheek. "I've been—what is he doing here?" The guilt Risa had been feeling over her enjoyable cab ride with Jack turned to apprehension. Phillip's normally smooth features were pinched as he glared at Jack, obviously just now recognizing her tuxedoed companion as her paint-spattered neighbor. Jack's smile didn't reach his eyes. "If you mean why am I here with your fiancée, it's because we shared a cab. If you mean how did riffraff like me get past security, you'd be amazed at who they'd let in to these things based solely on a donadion." Rica inserted herself between them, annoyed with men and all their accompanying testosterone. "The two of you obviously got off on the wrong foot, and we should fix that. Phillip, this is Jack Wolfe, a common supporter in the children's cause—which is of course why wa're here. Jack, Phillip Donavan$ the man I'm engaged to, as you know," Studying Risa's expression, Phillip sighed. "Sorry about my assumption the other night," he offered to the other man. The two men shook hands, and Risa wondered if, despite their tight smiles of congeniality, they were trying to break each other's fingers. "I'm starving," she said brightly. "When do we eat?" "The dinner presentation isn't until eight," Phillip replied, "but how about I get you a glass of champagne, Clarise?" "Thanks, but no. I was reminded the other night that champagne leaves me with a headache." "What about a nice Chianti?" Jack suggested, his expression deadpan. Recalling her Silence of the Lambs comment the night they'd met, she laughed—drawing a scowl from Phillip. "If you'll excuse us, Mr. Wolfe, Clarise and I have some important people we need to speak to." Jack caught her gaze. "Maybe you'll take pity on the guy with no date and save a dance for me later?" Phillip's arm tightened around her shoulder, and though she knew he was too politically correct to say anything, she also knew he disliked the idea. Which is just silly. At law firm dinners, they both danced with other people. Why was Jack Wolfe any different? But he was. She knew it from the way her pulse sped up at the thought of being in his arms. Obviously seeing her discomfort, Jack relented. "Never mind, I understand you'll probably be busy. See you around the building, Risa." As he drifted off through the crowd, she slanted her gaze up at Phillip. "He's really a nice man, once you get to know him." "I didn't realize you knew him well," Phillip said mildly. He dropped a kiss to her brow. "Your taste is impeccable, darling. If you say he's a decent guy, I'm sure you're right." Something was wrong with her. Why should her heart rate kick up at the mere thought of dancing with Jack, but not the brush of Phillip's lips? "Over here on your left, darling, are the Morrows. You remember—" "Phillip, are you sure about us? Getting married I mean?" His hands dropped to his sides, his expression uncharacteristically stunned. "Why would you say such a thing?" She swallowed. "I wonder...should there be more passion?" "Do you know how many awful 'crimes of passion' lawyers see committed every year? You know I find you a very attractive woman. Are you nervous about telling the Judge this weekend?" They'd decided they'd tell him in person over Sunday brunch, but that wasn't what worried her. "No, he'll be thrilled. I just hope we're happy." "We're perfect together," he assured her. "Isn't this what you do full-time, find where a person belongs? You and I belong together, darling. Trust your instincts." Easy for him to say. His instincts weren't scared they were about to make a huge mistake. |
Chapter Four Risa stood to one side Saturday morning, idly studying the display cases as the salesman fawned over Phillip. She stifled a yawn, assuring herself she wasn't bored, merely tired from last night's benefit gala. "Clarise, I think we may have found a winner." Phillip tossed her an endearing smile. "This one's a beauty. Want to see how it fits?" She walked closer, taking a look at the platinum two band set that fit around a large square diamond, surrounded by small pale blue stones. "Aquamarines—your birthstone." Oops. He looked so pleased that she hated to correct him, but some time over the next fifty or sixty years, he was bound to find out when her birthday was. "It's lovely Phillip, and I appreciate your thoughtfulness, my birthstone's an amethyst. B-But you were close. They—" "I'm sorry." Almost compulsively successful, Phillip did not take mistakes, even small ones, well. He took the ring from her before she had a chance to slide it on. "You must think I'm an idiot." "Of course not." She put her hand on his arm. "It's the thought that counts." His smile returned, though diffident. "Really? The thought that counts? So we'll take this one? Unless you see one that does have amethysts." "No, that one's fine. Lovely." Big, but beautiful. And she didn't really have strong feelings about what the piece of jewelry should look like. Was that a bad sign? Cut it out. This must be cold feet, or something. Be rational. If she'd had strong feelings otherwise, she might have argued, but she was surprised at how little she cared one way or the other. Maggie had fallen madly in love with a man who had walked out when he found out he was going to be a father—rejecting Risa before even meeting her. Then Maggie had fallen so madly in love with the Judge that she'd never allowed herself to see that he hadn't truly wanted Risa, either. Why on earth would Risa walk away from Phillip if he did want her? He was successful, a humanitarian, the sort who would never ever abandon his families or responsibilities. Plus, she'd never have that family she'd always longed for without a husband. "So would you like to try it on now, darling?" "Of course." She smiled as he slid the ring over her knuckle. Lord, it seemed heavy. Janine unlocked the doors of her minivan, quickly finishing the last of the ice cream cone Risa had insisted on buying. "So, how was brunch with the Judge? Did he like the ring? That diamond is really something. I mean, you could put an eye out." Risa shook her head, slurping a chocolate milkshake through a straw. "No, the Judge didn't have much to say about the ring—his area is really constitutional law, not gemstones. But he's thrilled about Phillip and I. Really seems...proud of me." "That's, um, great. But it's not what you like about Phillip, right?" "What?" Risa opened her door, but froze, too stunned to get in. "No! Are you asking if I'm using Phillip to get my step-father's approval?" "I'm a bad friend, forget I said anything." "You're not a bad friend. I won't deny that this new relationship with the Judge has been nice—really nice." The man had been almost warm yesterday, fatherly when he'd talked about walking her down the aisle. Maggie must be smiling down on them from heaven. "But Phillip has a lot going for him. "Of course he does." Janine turned her keys in the ignition. "I'm just tired." "About that. I had some good news I—hey, should we be worried that the engine light is flashing?" Janine laughed. "No. There's nothing wrong with the engine, just the light." "Ah. So...how would we know if something was wrong with the engine, then?" "Off the top of my head, I'd say the van not starting, loud knocking noises, or smoke and flames billowing out from under the hood would all be dead giveaways." Risa laughed. "As long as you have a system for figuring this stuff out." It was a quick drive back to the office—since it had been such a slow day, Risa had volunteered to go along on the bank run so they could take an ice cream break afterward—and she spotted Phillip's car immediately as they turned into the parking lot. "Looks like Phillip dropped by," she said, wondering if she'd forgotten an appointment with him. "I hope everything's all right." "Probably just missed his bride-to-be," Janine said. "You should try being more romantic some time." Risa shrugged. "Romance isn't exactly my style. Luckily, I found a man who prioritizes relationships the same way I do. Th`t doesn't make us any less of a couple." "Hey, I didn't say anything!" When they got inside tha office building, they found Risa's betrothed leaning against the door of their locked suite, his expression quizzical. "Do you nmrmally qhut down the office during business hours?" he asked by way ob greeting. "No, we just snuck out for a quick ice cream break," Risa said. In addition to herself and Janine, there were two part-time workers, but neither of them came in on Mondays. "What brings you to this side of town?" "Early Dinner with a client and his wife. I thought I'd swing by and see if you wanted to join us. Also, I had some papers I'm taking by another client's office for signatures." "Dinner, huh?" At the moment, she was a little full from that ice cream, but marrying an aspiring politician was going to create lots of social obligations. She was game. "Sounds good to me." "Wonderful." That settled, he smiled absently at Janine. "Nice to see you again. Have a good weekend?" She nodded. "The kids and I hung out. Nothing as glamorous as diamond shopping, but not bad." He took Risa's left hand, raising it so that the light played across the diamond. "It's really something isn't it?" Janine smothered a laugh. "That's exactly what I said." Risa unlocked the door, shooting her friend a warning glance as they all stepped inside the suite. Getting the message, Janine replaced the grin on her face with an expression of polite interest. "So have the two of you started making all the plans yet? Picked a honeymoon spot?" Phillip frowned as if he hadn't considered it, and Risa wasn't entirely comfortable thinking about it herself. Bridal nerves. After all, growing up [ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ]tered and conservative, she didn't exactly have a lot of experience. There had been her college sweetheart, but their encounters had been characterized more by good-natured enthusiasm. It was one of the reasons she so appreciated Phillip being an old-fashioned gentleman. He was serious about developing an enduring partnership. Still, she'd had a sense of restless longing lately.... Squashing down the thought, she beamed at Janine. "Since you brought up going away, now's as good a time as any to tell you I have a surprise for you." She reached into her purse and retrieved the glossy brochure. Handing it to her friend, she watched in happy anticipation as Janine scanned the note and the travel information about Kiawah Island. "And," Risa added, "since I'm also your boss, I made sure you got the days off, starting one week from tomorrow." Silence. Phillip stared at her as though she were crazy. Janine stared at her as though she were crazy. Okay, one thing at a time. "Janine? You don't like it? I know it's a little early for your birthday, but I knew you'd want to be back in time to spend your actual birthday with the kids. The guy on the phone gave me a great rate for now, since school is still in session and his busy season starts in June. If you're worried about the money, he gave me a killer deal." "It's..." Janine's lower lip trembled. "Risa, this is a very generous offer, but I can't go." "Of course you can!" Phillip cleared his throat. "She can't just pick up and leave at a moment's notice with three kids." Janine nodded. "Even if my regular sitter could watch the kids at night—and I doubt she'd agree to that—she's already raising her prices on me." "Give her the week off and put the money toward that van of yours," Risa advised. "I'll take care of the kids while you're gone. Sorry, I guess I should have said that right away. Phillip laughed. "You? You and Janine can't both take vacation at the same time!" "He's right," Janine agreed miserably. "Nonsense. My computer at home allows me to access the one here. Jason and Natalie will be in school during the day, so I'll only have baby Grace. I can work from home while watching her." "Oh, Clarise" Phillip's sigh somehow conveyed both his affection for her and a conviction that she was hopelessly naïve. "I'm sure that if you think this over, you'll realize you're not up to that." Her eyebrows flew up. Stubborn and in some ways self-made, she'd never been one to back down from a challenge. "If you doubt my ability to take care of kids, why do you want me to be the mother of yours?" He raised his palms in front of his chest. "First, we'll have them one at a time, not suddenly three at once—" "Think of this as practice for if we have triplets." Janine snorted in her attempts not to laugh, and Phillip just rolled his eyes. "Secondly," he continued, "when we have children, you'll have a full-time nanny to help you, just as my mother had. How else would you continue to run this company that's so important to you?" A nanny? The thought turned her blood cold, although she knew many people employed the help of able caregivers who were just like one of the family. Since her mother had died when she was young, however, the thought of her children being virtually raised by a substitute was unappealing. "Unless you want to be a stay-at-home mom," he suggested, looking pleased by the idea. "After all, being a senator's wife is practically a job in itself." "And give up Perfect Placement?" she demanded. "Uh..." Janine took a few steps toward her desk. "I can see the two of you have a lot to discuss so I'll just—" Risa swiveled her gaze back to her friend. "Wait. Phillip and I can talk later, but I want to get this settled or I know I'll never get you to agree to the vacation. You know the kids love me, and you need this time for yourself. I can do it." Janine bit her lip, clearly on the verge of wavering. "You're sure?" "You've heard me say how often I want to be a mother. I could use the practice. You'd be doing me a favor," Risa said. "Well, when you put it that way...done. But if you come to your senses between now and next Tuesday, call me. I'll understand completely if you want out of this." "Not gonna happen," Risa assured her. "Besides, if I need backup, I can always call Phillip, right?" Now it was his turn to stammer. "Um, darling, you know I'd love to help, but—" "Right, big cases, important meetings." And how was he planning to handle all of that once he became a father? They really had a lot more to discuss than wedding colors and reception seating. "Don't worry. I can get through a few days by myself. The children will be excited about the adventure of staying at Aunt Risa's. You'll see, it'll be a piece of cake!" |
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Chapter Five Me and my great ideas. Early Tuesday evening, Risa stood in the elevator, wondering how she would survive the next few days. She was clutching Natalie's hand in her own, while holding the volcanic spew-fest known as baby Grace with her other arm. Jason was free, and it had taken a series of pleas, threats and bribes to keep him from punching all the numbers on the panel. Janine had only been gone a few hours—she probably wasn't even checked into her room yet—and all hell had broken loose. After dropping Janine off at the airport, Risa was shocked when all three kids burst into tears. Jason and Natalie had been excited, babbling about how much fun they'd have with Aunt Risa...but the moment Janine escaped visual contact, it was Niagara Falls. Combined with high keening noises that straddled the range between human earshot and what only dogs could hear. Attempting to cheer them up, Risa had taken them for burgers, but on the way home Risa realized she'd left baby Grace's diaper bag in the restaurant. They'd gone back to search with no luck, and by then Natalie was tired and whiny. Baby Grace was also screaming her little baby lungs out since it was bottle time. Desperate for at least one of the two girls to stop crying, Risa made a hasty pit stop at the grocery store and grabbed a familiar looking container of formula. Both Natalie and Jason assured Risa that it was the brand Mommy bought. She poured the ready to serve formula into a new bottle and fed Grace right there in the parking lot. It wasn't until after Grace was happily sucking down the formula that Jason reminded Risa you have to boil new bottles before you can use them. In theory, she agreed; in practice, she'd once seen Janine take a beetle out of Grace's mouth, so a non-boiled bottle probably wasn't the end of the world. Still, she felt guilty for screwing up so soon. Guiltier yet when Grace finished and the projectile vomiting began. Too late, Risa realized that while she had picked up the right brand of formula, it hadn't been the lactose free variety the intolerant baby required. The ride home had been punctuated with Jason and Natalie informing Risa every few minutes that Grace had spit up again. And Risa's worries that she would be the world's worst mother. When the elevator stopped, Risa wanted to cry with relief. In her apartment, she had the right kind of formula for Grace and a bed for Natalie's nap. But in one last hurrah, Grace threw up across Risa's turquoise blouse, Jason shoved his sister in his typically-little-boy hurry to get out of the elevator, and cranky Natalie plopped down in the middle of the hallway and began bawling. Loudly. She could have drowned out the sound of 747s taking off at Hartsfield. Risa didn't know whether to be thankful or mortified when the door to 7-G opened and Jack Wolfe stuck out his head. He assessed the situation in a single glance, and one corner of his mouth lifted. "Need a hand?" Though she much preferred helping others, like Janine or the unemployed people who came to Perfect Placement, this was no time for pride. "Yes. Desperately. Please." He corralled the oldest Griggs sibding, who had headed the wrong way down the hall. Then he joined Risa in front of her apartment unlocking the door while she held onto Grace and a squalling Natalie. At the moment, the baby was doing nothifg more than cooing softly, but Risa refused to be lulled into a false senre of security. As soon as the door was opened, Risa made a beeline for the kids' luggage, which Janine had brought over that morning when she delivered the van and its necessary car seats. After repositioning Grace in her arms and dabbing the checkered burp cloth against the latest stain on her blouse, Risa grabbed a pillow and Joey the stuffed bear. Then she escorted Natalie to the guestroom and tucked her in. Risa promised ice cream when the little girl woke up if she'd just close her eyes and take a nap. Natalie gave a brief, watery smile at the mention of ice cream and was asleep before Risa left the room. One down. Risa carried the baby back to the living room, where Jack and Jason sat on the black leather sectional sofa she'd bought in a bizarre fit of modernism, unlike the house of antiques in which she'd been raised. Her neighbor and Janine's son appeared to be having a very serious, man to man discussion about the merits of Nintendo versus PlayStation. Jack made a friend for life when he told Jason that, if it was okay with Risa, he'd borrow one of his nephew's two game systems and some racing cartridges for Jason's visit. The little boy's face lit up anf, as he and Jack exchanged smiles, Risa`realized they could be mistaken for father and son. With their dark hiir and matching outfits of jeans and solid colored T-shirts, they looked similar enough. Jack reached out to tousle the0boy's hair, and her insides did something twitkhy that she didn't care to analyze. "Well, Natalie's napping," Risa said softly. "Jason—" "I'm too big to nap." "Of course you are," she agreed solemnly. "But you're not too big to stretch out on the couch and watch cartoons, right? And wouldn't you be more comfortable if I get you your pillow and a blanket?" He thought that over and deemed it acceptable. Two down. Jack rose from the couch. "Need anything else?" "If you really don't mind...? Janine dropped off a portable play-pen that still needs to be set up." "Just tell me where." She cocked her head in the direction of the hallway. "Back in my room." Baby Grace had laid her head down on Risa's shoulder, her breathing slow and deep. With any luck, all three kids would sleep, and Risa would have time to devise a battle plan before [ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ]ng dinner. This week might be more complicated than she'd originally deluded herself. Jack picked up the collapsed play-pen from the corner and followed her. Once they'd both crossed the threshold into her bedroom, Risa's heart gave an irrational thump against her chest. Suddenly her queen-sized bed seemed mammoth, drawing both her gaze and her thoughts. She glanced around quickly to make sure nothing intimate was laying out where Jack might notice it, like lacy pajamas or a thong. You sleep in oversized cotton shirts and wore a thong exactly once before swearing never to repeat the hideously uncomfortable experience. Oh. Right. "So where do you want it?" Jack asked. A number of terribly inappropriate answers sprang to mind, and Risa ignored them all, ashamed to even think them with cherubic, innocent Grace in the immediate vicinity. She pointed to the carpeted area at the end of the bed. "There's fine." Kneeling, he unzipped the bag and extracted a jumble of plastic, [ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ]l and netting. "I can't believe you agreed to watch three kids when you have white carpeting." Remembering Janine's skepticism and the patronizing expression on Phillip's face when he'd questioned whether she could handle it, she snapped, "I'm sure it will be fine. Carpets can be shampooed, you know." He glanced up, one eyebrow raised. "I meant it as a compliment. I know carpets can be shampooed, but some people have a different way of looking at it." "Sorry." Heat rushed to her face. "Didn't mean to be defensive." He looked up again, started to say something, then gazed past her and grinned. "I love the nightstand, nice use of color." "You aren't the only one who's gifted with a paintbrush," she kidded, thinking it was [ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ]ing to joke with a man. She certainly never had with the Judge, and while Phillip was a Great Man who often did Great Things, she never felt quite right poking fun around him. Jack snapped some thingamajig into place and nodded crisply. "All set." "Great." Risa peered at Grace's pursed lips and heavy-lidded eyes. "I think she's—" On cue, Grace began to wail. The muted, high pitched howl of an ambulance when it's still quite a distance behind you. Like the approaching emergency vehicle, Grace grew louder and more urgent. "Wet diaper?" Jack suggested. "Probably, and I left her diaper bag at the restaurant. Can you hold her just a second?" Without waiting for an answer, she thrust the baby into his arms, hurried to the living room and returned with diapering supplies. Jack laid the baby on the bed to be changed, and Risa hesitated. "Is this not a good place?" he wanted to know. "N-no. I just realized I've never changed a diaper." She'd helped Janine all through the pregnancy, but when Grace had actually been born, Janine's retired mother had come up from Florida to help for a month. Risa's assistance had always been more along the lines of taking the older children to the park so Janine could have time with the baby. I have a college degree and run my own company. I can change a diaper. She unsnapped the little pink onesie as Grace squirmed around on the duvet, then reached for the tabs on the disposable diaper. "Wait!" She jerked her hand back, keeping it close enough so that Grace couldn't roll over and scoot toward the edge of the bed. "What? Don't tell me I've done something wrong already." "You did say 'her' earlier, right? It's hard to tell with babies." "When they're wearing pink?" He shrugged. "Hey, we had five kids in my family, and hand-me-downs were a necessity. I think Mom actually put my youngest brother Bruce in a yellow dress in an emergency once. Of course he's in extensive therapy now...Never mind. Proceed. I just wanted to make sure if she were a boy, you weren't in the line of fire." "Huh? Oh. No, I'm safe." She removed the damp diaper and seconds later replaced it, inordinately proud of herself. She hadn't put it on backwards or anything; of course the picture of the happy duck on the front made it easy to avoid that mistake. Unfortunately, by the time the onesie was refastened, Grace had progressed to the "too tired to sleep" stage, and her cries were increasing in volume. "Here." Jack reached for the baby, which Risa found a little presumptuous. She could rock, walk or sing as well as he could. But, remembering how much she'd enjoyed the sight of him smiling and talking with Jason, she handed over the baby. As he took Grace, his eyes widened, zeroing in on Risa's fingers. "Wow," he said in a near whisper. "I didn't realize the Hope diamond had left the museum." "Ha ha." She resisted the temptation to hide her left hand behind her back. He swayed slightly, shifting his weight on the balls of his feet and rubbing Grace's back. Despite his relaxed stance, tension was suddenly apparent in the rigid set of his jaw and anger glinting in his eyes. What right did he have to be angry about anything? In the same quiet tone, he added, "He could have just branded you with the same result." "Where do you get off being so sarcastic?" she hissed at him, infusing her words with ire if not volume. "Don't get mad at me for noticing. What reason is there for wearing something like that except to catch attention?" "It's a token of—of commitment." "Not love?" Anger vibrated inside her. He barely knew her and had no business questioning her this way. "Just because your marriage didn't work out doesn't mean—" The stiffening of his shoulders, the hurt in his gaze, was all it took to halt her words. "I think you should go now." He placed the now-sleeping baby inside the makeshift crib. "I think you're right." |
Chapter Six Risa poured pancake batter into the sizzling skillet as Grace banged Tupperware together in her portable high chair. Risa had never realized how much furniture babies needed, nor that it was all so fold-able. Until Janine had shown up yesterday with what looked like enough baby equipment for quintuplets. "Are the pancakes almost ready?" Natalie shuffled a bowl of fruit across the kitchen table. "Soon, sweetie." She'd told Natalie and Jason they could use raisins and sliced strawberries and bananas to make pancake faces. At least this time her promise had involved fruit. She'd worried after the hamburgers yesterday and the lure of ice cream to get Natalie to nap that she was inadvertently contributing to future eating disorders. Natalie made little puttering noises as she navigated the bowl around, but Jason sat looking bored and irritated, sighing every few seconds for effect. Risa knew why he was annoyed with her. The first thing he'd done after waking up from his nap yesterday was ask when Jack would return with the on-loan game system. As gently as possible, she'd explained that she wasn't sure Jack would be able to borrow it after all. Jason must have sensed she had somehow messed up the arrangement because he'd been sulky with her ever since. She flipped a flapjack, trying to come up with something fun they could do after school that wouldn't be so extravagant it spoiled them for when their mother returned. "Jason, can you open the front door and bring in the newspaper?" Maybe she'd find an idea in the About Town section. With another dramatic sigh that heaved his entire six year old frame, he headed for the door. Risa pulled out three plates, which she handed to Natalie. "Do you want milk?" Natalie shook her head. "Orange juice, please." "What about your brother?" "Only drinks chocolate milk." Another item for the grocery trip she'd make while the kids were in school. She needed to replace Grace's diaper bag, anyway. Natalie sat half on, half off one of the chairs. "After breakfast, can you French braid my hair?" "Sure." I think. At least that wasn't something she had to worry about with Jason. Speaking of which... Where was he? "Jason? Breakfast is ready." Her front door slammed, then another door, inside her apartment. Maybe he had to use the restroom. A few seconds later, he appeared, whispered something to Natalie, then tugged on her arm. Risa frowned. "Where are you two going?" "We didn't brush our teeth," Jason said. "You do that after breakfast." "I have yucky breath. I want to do it before and after." "Well, hurry, I don't want you to be late for school." The kids rushed toward the bathroom, and for a second she was pleased they'd taken her admonishment to heart. But then it occurred to her that they were awfully giddy, not to mention secretive, for two kids brushing their teeth. She decided to investigate but had made it no farther than the edge of the kitchen when the doorbell rang. "Coming!" The plot thickens. "Mrs. Carmichael. What brings you by so early?" "Pierpont. My poodle," the elderly woman from 7-D elaborated needlessly. "We were headed out for our morning constitutional when I realized I'd forgotten the scooper. I left him in the hall for just a second, and—" "Jason! Natalie!" Loud whispering came from the guest bathroom, accompanied by an excited, high-pitched yip. "Pierpont!" Gasping, Mrs. Carmichael paled and pressed a hand to her ample bosom. "I just want him returned to me safely." Sheesh—it wasn't as if the kids were holding the dog for ransom. She hoped. Brother and sister appeared in the hallway, with the unmitigated gall to wear expressions of wide-eyed innocence. "Give Mrs. Carmichael back her dog," Risa commanded. Be firm without yelling. "Right. Now." She'd apparently achieved the right tone, because there were no arguments or lies. Jason simply reached behind him and opened the door. Pierpont bounded out, no worse for the wear, ran a lap around Risa's living room, then darted to his distraught owner. Jason glared at Mrs. Carmichael. "He was all alone in the hall, like he needed a home. Mikey Baxter and his family took in a stray dog. You can do that with dogs you find." Pierpont, overfed and wearing blue ear-bows and a collar with a shiny gold tag, was no one's idea of a suffering stray. "Tell Mrs. Carmichael you're sorry for making her worry." Neither of them glanced up from the carpet. "Sorry." Mrs. Carmichael sniffed and pivoted on her heel, apparently wanting to flee the scene before her precious baby was further traumatized. Morning sun spilled across Jack's kitchen table as he sipped his coffee and listened to the smoke alarm next door. In other circumstances, he might have checked to see if his neighbor needed help, but he could piece together what had happened. He'd been retrieving his morning paper when Risa's door creaked open, and he'd ducked inside, not wanting to see her after she'd tossed him out yesterday. Not a minute later, Mrs. Carmichael had knocked on his door, frantically asking if he'd seen poor Pierpont. He'd suggested she try next door. Probably breakfast had burned while Risa was dealing with Mrs. Carmichael and the children. She didn't need his help—even if part of him wanted the excuse to see her again. When the smoke alarm quit, the sudden quiet was jarring, making his thoughts echo too loudly in his head. Thoughts he'd rather not have about Risa Alexander. The woman left him feeling as fractured as a virus-ridden hard drive. Stay away from her. She's engaged! To the wrong guy. Not that Jack was anyone's "right guy." Why remarry and give a second wife the chance to one day announce she couldn't keep vows to a defective husband? He set his coffee down with a thud, the two spoonfuls of sugar he'd used no match against the bitterness rising in him. He knew plenty of men who didn't want commitment, didn't want to be tied down. Men who cringed if their girlfriends or wives missed a period, then waited in terror to find out what color the stick was. And yet Jack, who'd always dreamed of a big family, was sterile. Fury over the boyhood accident wouldn't change matters, no more than fury over his divorce would bring back Amy—not that he still wanted her back. He'd recovered from the initial heartbreak, but not the sense of betrayal. She'd known when she married him... Stupid, senseless playground accident. The fall had caused trauma to the groin area, and the doctor had warned Jack's mother Jack might never father children of his own. Long before Jack had proposed to Amy, he'd been tested, discovered the grim prediction held true. He'd been honest with her, made sure she was okay with adopting one day. She'd said she loved him so much it didn't matter. But years later, between the loud ticking of her own biological clock and the stressful red tape of the adoption agency, she'd changed her mind. All of that was ancient history, though, and there was plenty of stress to be found at the office without hiking his blood pressure before he even started his day. He would go to work, throw himself into his job, and not waste time on thoughts of divorce or irrevocable medical conditions. And he certainly wouldn't dwell on Risa Alexander. Steering the van away from the pick-up zone at the elementary school, Risa experienced a stab of irrational malice toward the unseen Mikey Baxter. "It's not fair." Jason sniffled in the back seat. "Mrs. Lannister gave him a gold star for bringing his dumb old hermit crab to show and tell. Why does he get to have a hermit crab and a dog and a cat...and a-A father?" Her heart splintered. From beside Jason in her bgoster seat, Nat`lie began to cry in a fit of sibling empathy. Figures. Risa had spent the better part of the day trying to get a teething Grace to stop crying. Now that the baby was sleeping in her car seat, thd two older ones were going at it. Risa didn't blame them a bit, though. She knew how hard it was to lose a parent. Maggie had been her world. Since her mom's death, Risa had felt like an outsi`er looking in, but being with Janine and her kids helped. They treated her like she belonged. She'd d/ anything for them. "I need to stop by the bank, but after that, do you guys want to grab milkshakes?" Shokt. She was prnbably breaking nutrition ordinances again. Her reply was Two h`lf-hearted, "okays." They really were in a bad way if milkshakes didn't help. Risa navigated traffic and purned into the mall parking lot, where the small local branch of her bank was situated. The parking lot was more crowded than usual, with a temporary, carnivals taking up space. She almost asked the kids if they'd like to ride the Ferris Wheel or something, but she couldn't safely supervise by riding with them with baby Grace in tow. Natalie sighed, and Risa steeled herself for the inevitable request. "Aunt Risa, could we have cotton candy instead of milkshakes?" "Sure!" Relieved that she didn't have to say no to two already depressed kids, Risa caught Jason's eye in the rearview mirror. "Cotton candy okay with you, buddy?" "Don't care. Whatever Nat wants." Once Risa finished at the bank, the four of them strolled across the pavement to the nearest food vendor. While she juggled her purse and Grace's car seat, Jason began hopping up and down. "Look! Look there!" Following his pointed finger, she saw a man in overalls who had parked a truck next to the carnival booths. A sign hung from the tailgate, proclaiming "Turtles for Sale." A variety of aquariums sat in the bed of the truck. "Can we see?" Natalie asked. Jason's brown eyes took on a determined gleam. "Mikey Baxter doesn't have a turtle." But Mikey had a dad. Hoping Janine wouldn't kill her later, Risa said crisply, "Let's go pick ourselves out a turtle." Her decision was met with squeals of delight &mash; hard to believe these were the same two kids who had looked like the "before" picture in a Prozac ad only minutes ago. Janine was reasonable. She'd probably be thrilled Jason had finally wanted a pet to which Natalie wouldn't be allergic. If Janine did object, Risa could keep it at her place for the kids to visit. Yeah, because I always wanted a reptile for the apartment. Then again, maybe she should view this as an ounce of prevention. Having the turtle around should drastically reduce the number of poodle abductions in her building. By ten p.m., Risa had run through her entire bag of tricks—numbing gel, teethers, medicine dropper, pacifiers. Nothing would calm the screaming baby. Meanwhile, Jason and Natalie, who should have been in bed by eight-thirty on school nights, were tired afd cranky. Their fatigue led to arguing, which led to Jason pushing Natalie. The little spitfire responded by picking up a hardcover mystery from Risa's coffee table and bashing her brother in the skull with it. "Okay!" Her voice was louder than she'd intended, but how else would anyone hear her? "Everyone back in their beds! If you can't sleep because of Grace, just read a book or something." How did Janine do this all the time? Risa was happier than ever that she'd insisted on her friend's vacation, recalling how relaxed Janine had sounded when she'd called to talk to her kids after dinner. Thoughts of the phone led to thoughts of help. Could she call Phillip, beg him to take a shift walking the crying infant? If she was engaged to marry the man, shouldn't she be comfortable asking him for personal favors? Marriage...parenthood. Seeing him with the kids might give her a more concrete idea of the kind of father he'd be. She should definitely call him. Relieved to have a plan, she dialed his cell phone number, uncertain whether he was home or working late. "Phillip Donavan." "Hi, Phillip, it's—" "Clarise, is that you? Hard to hear you over that racket." "That's Grace. She's teething." "Sounds awful. Can you get her to be quiet while we're on the phone?" What did he expect her to do, point the television remote at Grace and hit mute? "I know it's horrible, but she's a baby. Her teeth are coming in, and it hurts. That's why I'm calling you." "I see. You need help." There was a smugness to his tone she didn't like. "Guess that nanny's sounding like a pretty good idea right now?" Continuing as though he hadn't spoken, she said, "It occurred to me that since we're going to be parents together, it might be good practice for us to take care of children together." "An interesting proposal, not without merit. But I'm at the Judge's playing poker, and—" "My Judge?" "Your step-father, yes." "B-but his poker night is tomorrow." "No, he switched it months ago. You didn't know? This evening, he invited me so I could meet some influential friends of his. I suspect they'll be very important to our future." "I see." Tears stung her eyes, and she quickly sat on the couch before her legs gave out. For years, she'd worked to build a relationship with Judge Thomas Winters. Then Phillip had waltzed in one day, with political views and the law in common, and he and the Judge seemed like the best of friends. "I have to go, Phillip. I'll call you later in the week." Glancing at the weeping baby, Risa considered the old "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em" adage. No, sobbing wouldn't solve anything, and Risa was a solution-finder. Look at her company, the way she'd seen a need for Janine to get away and had arranged it, the way she'd kept trying with Judge Winters despite feeling rebuffed her entire adolescence. There was another person she could ask for help, but it wouldn't be pleasant. "Jason! Natalie!" she called over Grace's sobs—were they getting softer or was she just losing her hearing? "You two stay put, Grace and I are going out in the hall. Just open the front door if you need me." She took a deep breath and hurried over to 7-G before she could change her mind. Jack had been up late that first night she'd met him, so maybe he wasn't the type to go to bed early. His door opened before she had a chance to knock. "Did I catch you on your way out?" she asked, referring to the way he'd answered the door before she'd even announced her presence. He inclined his head toward the baby. "Heard you coming. And I don't usually go out looking like this." He wore athletic shorts and a dark blue T-shirt with the sleeves cut off. The man had seriously nice arms. But she hadn't come over here to feel his biceps. Or to notice the slight sheen of perspiration dampening his face and his dark hair that shouldn't have been so attractive. "Risa?" He fidgeted with the free weight she hadn't noticed him holding because she'd been too busy noticing other things. Focus. "When we talked in the cab the other night, you told me you had several nieces and nephews." "That's right." His face was impassive, giving nothing away. "And you like children." "Yep." "Yesterday, you offered to help." "I remember—shortly before you kicked me out of your apartment." Risa shifted her weight, concentrating on being conciliatory even though she still felt that yesterday had been as much his fault as hers. More, really. He'd started it. Wonderful. Twenty-four hours with Natalie and Jason, and she'd picked up their mentality. "Forget it." Jack moved to shut the door. Desperate, she wedged her foot in the way. "Forget what?" "That baby has been crying all night, so you came over here as a last resort, but it's obvious from your expression that you're still miffed about yesterday. I have no reason to go over there and help you, but every sane reason to stay here and mind my own business. Isn't that what you wanted?" "Please, Jack. I need you." Painful as it was to admit, she managed to get it out. Odd that she hadn't been able to be that candid on the phone with Phillip, yet she was here swallowing her pride in front of Jack. His silver gaze arrested hers, the odd gleam in his eyes making her mouth go dry. "Say it again." The command, issued in a husky, almost-whisper, should have irritated her. She wasn't a fan of groveling. But something in his expression made her feel all melty inside. "Say what, that I need you?" "No. Just the 'please, Jack.'" She swallowed. "Please. Jack." "All the help you need until your friend returns, /n one condition—when the kids gm home, you come over sometime and pose for a painting." He blinked, as though his request had supprise$ him as much as her. Which w`s hard to believe because she was shocked. He wanted to paint her? "Your face is—" He broke off, looked away. "I'm curious to see if I can do it justice. So will you sit for me?" "Deal. I'll pose." Grace chose that moment to crescendo into an ear-splitting wail, and the corner of Jack's mouth lifted in his trademark teasing grin. "Nude?" "Don't push it." |
Chapter Seven Jack woke slowly, sense by sense. His neck hurt, it was almost unbelievably quiet, and someone smelled very, very good. Lifting his head with an audible crack, he realized he and Risa had fallen asleep here, on her couch, afraid to move once Grace's screams had finally subsided. Now, Risa was tucked against him, snuggled in an unconscious intimacy he hadn't experienced since his divorce. Grace was snoozing in the baby-sling Risa wore. A simple, yet powerful, domestic picture of mother and child, if he hadn't known Grace was a friend's baby. "J-Jack?" Risa stirred, blinking her eyes up at him. Her expression was sleep-soft, her lips parted and kissable. He leaned closer, telling himself it was so they wouldn't wake the baby. "Yes?" Her eyes were more alert now, almost keenly so, alive with what he wanted to believe was answering desire, but also skittish. Like a nervous doe's. She sat straight up, away from him. "I was just wondering what time it was. How long we've been...like this." A glance at his watch showed him it was a little after three a.m., but before he could tell her, she'd already checked the digital display on her VCR. "I'm so sorry to have kept you this late," she told him. "You'll be dog-tired in the morning." "Nah." He tried a smile. "I caught some sleep here." "Yeah, but the couch isn't all that comfortable." She frowned. "I'm not even sure why I bought it. Does this furniture look like me?" Weird question, but now that he thought about it, a valid one. "Not really. It's all very...sleek. Um, not that you aren't I guess, but you're softer. Cozier. Like that wacky nightstand. That looks like you." Her brows rose, the apprehension in her eyes replaced with humor. "You're calling me wacky? Fair enough, considering I once hoisted myself onto your balcony in my pajamas. I think I bought this furniture as a knee-jerk reaction to the house I grew up in, which was all polished antiques I was supposed to treat with care. So when I got my own place, I went too modern and contemporary and I'm not sure the end result was any more comfy than my childhood home. Over compensation. What was your home like, growing up?" He grinned. "Noisy. There were lots of us crowding the place, and my sisters were forever mad that they couldn't get more time in the bathroom." Risa sighed wistfully. "Sounds lovely." "Yeah." His smile fell away. He'd dreamed of having an equally loud and loving family, and now here he was living alone in an apartment downtown. She stood into a full-body stretch, and he tried not to look, very aware that the owner of that body was engaged. Instead, he rose, too, and walked around the room, finding other things to capture his interest. "This yours or the kids'?" he asked, pointing to a terrarium on an octagonal side table. "I bought it for them, and we'll keep it here if Janine doesn't want him." Jack squinted at the turtle on a rock inside his glass home. Was the turtle blowing bubbles as he breathed? "He doesn't look so good." "How are turtles supposed to look?" "Not sure." They watched in silence for a few minutes before Risa offered, "We're calling him Yertle. Like the book." "Sure, I know Yertle. My nieces and nephews are versed in the classics, and I've read lots of Dr. Seuss while staying with them. My favorite was always Where the Wild Things Are." She grinned over top of the sleeping baby she supported. "Mine was Curious George. I envied his ability to get into trouble." "Envied? You mean you wanted to get in more trouble?" "I wanted to stop being so afraid of getting in trouble." A soft, wistful sigh escaped her. "I wanted to just be, without worrying I would do or say the wrong thing. Or be friends with the wrong kids, date the wrong guy. I don't know why I'm telling you all this." "I don't mind listening." On the contrary, he wanted to know all about her but was afraid she'd withdraw if his questions got too personal. Risa took a deep breath. "I don't think the Judge ever wanted kids, but when he fell for my mom, I came as part of the package. Things were so strained between the two of us that my mother regretted the marriage within months, told me once that she always fell in love with the wrong men and that her heart was not to be trusted. She died a few months later, and the Judge was stuck with me. He's a good man, really, just not....an easy one." The revelation that she hadn't been wanted hung painfully suspended in the air between them. Jack didn't know what to say. As uncomfortable as family gatherings had been for him since the divorce, love among the Wolfes had always been abundant and unconditional. "I'm sorry about the loss of your mother." They weren't rote words of sympathy. He had a big, boisterous family, and couldn't imagine losing a parent or sibling. "It was a long time ago, but I still miss her. For years I've felt like I didn't have a family, but that's going to change. Phillip and I will start our family as soon as we're married." Jack's gut clenched at the idea, although he could see more clearly now why being engaged to Phillip might seem like a good idea to Risa. If she'd grown up in a home devoid of love, maybe she didn't see its lack in her almost businesslike relationship with her fiancé. A relationship that was none of his business. Right now, Risa needed a friend, not criticism. He reached out and squeezed her shoulder. For a split-second, her muscles tensed, then relaxed under his hand. They stood in companionable silence, watching Yertle slowly make his way to his pool of water. Once in the water, the turtle promptly fell over to one side, his other half sticking up in the air. Jack frowned. "That can't be right. I think your turtle is sick. Maybe you should check with the pet shop where you bought him." Her cheeks reddened. "I, um, didn't get him at a store." "You didn't find him outside, did you?" "No. A guy was selling them out of the back of his truck." He smothered a laugh. "Well that sounds reputable." "It's a turtle, not a pure-breed like Pierpont. I didn't ask to see his papers. I'll look up vets tomorrow." "You want me to come by tomorrow? T`e offer still stands of borrowing my nephew's video games. I would have gone ahead and done it but I...wasn't sere you wanted ie to come back." She smiled* "Jason will love 9ou forever." And you? He wanted to ask. But he got the impression Risa Alexander was uncomfortable with love, wanted to tell herself she wouldn't make her mother's mistakes. Wanted to spare herself the risks. "Hey, little brother. Long time, no see." Angela shuffled aside so that Jack could enter the Gwilnett County suburban home. Jack smiled at his towheaded nephew Tyler, still in his Buzz Light-year pajamas despite phe lunch hour. "Not in Pre-K today?" "I have a bad col`." The four year offered a pathetic cough. "D'you bring me ! present to make me feel better?" "Tyler." Angela's voice reverberated with maternal reproach. "What you need is rest." Her son grimaced. "Get all better, sport, so that we can have fun on Saturday," Jack advised. The whole family was convening at his parents' place on Lake Lalier—barbecue, boating, kids runninf around with squirt guns. Tyler nodded, scooting off toward his room. He stopped long enough to admit, "You don't have to bring me gifts, I like it when you come by just 'cause I get to see ymu." "Thanks." Jack was almkst embarrassed by how much the words meant. When his nephew had disappeaRed from earshot, Jack told his sister, "You and Greg are raising a couple of great kids." She smiled "I know. I remind myself of that every time they do somethang that gives me a new gray hair." "I don't see any," he assured his older sister. "You may be going on forty, but you look twenty-five to me." "You always were my favorite brother. Come on, the game sistem is in the kitchen, all bagged up wath a couple of cartridges you can borrow." He followed her. "Lisa really appreciates this." "And Risa's just a neighbor?" The hopeful innuendo in her voice was clear. "Of course." He hefted the bag off Angie's kitchen table, not meeting her eyes. "You're sure? When you told me about her and mentioned you were helping her baby-sit this week, you sounded so...You're not leaving anything out?" "If you're implying there could be romance brewing, I should tell you she's engaged." "Oh. Mom will be crushed." "Mom?" He nearly dropped the bag of video equipment. "I mentioned talking to you. Might have mentioned that you already seem pretty fond of the girl next door..." "Angela Rachelle! How could you do this to me? Mom's been fretting since Amy left, worrying whether or not I'll remarry. " "She wants you to be happy, Jack. We all do. You've had such a tough time of it." The unwanted pity roiled in his stomach like something greasy and indigestible. Everyone had been so sympathetic since the divorce that, for the first time in his life, Jack was uncomfortable around his family. At every gathering, there were barely discernible whispers of poor Jack. It struck him that a small part of him wasn't looking forward to this weekene. Although... Mayfe he could invite Risa? Once his family knew she was engaged, they wouldn't put any pressure on her, and the0kids were bound to have a blast. He knew Janine was returning late Saturday night, so why not take their minds off missing their mom by having them tag along? And if Risa and the kids provmded a buffer between him and his family's well-intended pity, all the better. The expected knock sounded at the door, and0Risa sighed. She'd`been glad Harry the super called that morning to say he'd finally be fix the door, but she was currently busy trying to lull Grace into a nap and on hold with the vet's office. Turned out there were special turtle vets. Who knew? "Door's open," she called. Harry lumbered inside, greeting her with a comment on the hot weather—probably. The obnoxious rendition of "Who Let the Dogs Out?" used by the vet's office forced her to rely on nonexistent lip-reading skills. And Grace, sensing she didn't have Risa's undivided attention, was shrieking inter-ittently. While Harry busied himself with the malfunctioning door, Risa put the baby in a folding bouncy seat and turned on the television, hoping it would entertain the infant. A muscle-bound actor with soulful brown eyes and an atrocious faie Spanish accent was pledging to some saintly-clad woman named Celeste that Victor's death had been an accident. "Don't you believe him for a minute, Celeste." Risa aimed the remote control, and the man was replaced by a cast of puppets counting to ten. Much more appropriate. Unfortunately, with everything calm for the moment, the guilt Risa had been battling finally surfaced. This kiss brought to you by the letter K, she thought, watching an on-screen phonics skit. It wasn't a kiss. Nothing actually happened. But when she'd come awake next to Jack in the middle of the night, huddled against him, wondering what it would be like to have his lips on her... Engaged women should not wonder stuff like that. It had been exactly the kind of illogical, passionate impulse Maggie had cautioned against. Don't be like me, baby girl—you're smarter. Well, Risa had tried to be smart, but she'd never felt for Phillip Donavan what she'd felt for her neighbor in that unguarded moment. The doorbell rang, and Risa's knees almost buckled in relief. She didn't care if the person on the other side was selling Amway, she was just happy for the distraction. She swung the door wide open, and felt her smile harden and crack like cement. "Phillip! W-what are you doing here?" "What sort of greetine is that, Clarise?" He cocked his head to the side. "Is somethi.g wrong?" "No." Wnuld Phillip somehow divine that she'd had an inappropriate reaction to another man? Would he hate her? "Aren't you going to invite me in, darling?" "Of course, sorry. I thought you were in court." "Jury returned early." He beamed. "Another victory! I wanted to celebr!te, and felt bad for not being able to help with the children the other night. How about we pack up the baby, you change, and I buy us lunch at that French bistro we like?" French bistro he liked, actually. She thought it was slightly over-priced and disliked the way the waiters sneered if she mispronounced her order. "A nice thought, Phillip, but I'm afraid I can't. Grace is just nodding off, and if I disturb her now, she'll be impossible. It's not the sort of establishment where they tolerate a baby crying—" "Can't you just bring a pacifier?" Yeah, it's that simple. Babies always magically quiet the second you give them a pacifier. "That apparently doesn't work with Grace when she's cutting teeth—something about the pressure on her gums making sucking painful. Besides, I only have a little while before I take the kids' turtle to the vet." "A rain-check, then." He studied her. "You're planning to change before you go out, right? You have lovely legs, but those shorts are practically indecent." Glancing to where Harry was realigning her balcony door, Phillip lowered his voice. "In fact, I'd prefer you didn't traipse around like that when the serviceman's here." "His name is Harry, and I'm not 'traipsing.' It's over ninety degrees today!" She actually was planning to change, but this was her apartment, not his mother's bridge club. The déjà vu of the moment struck her, the too many times as a teenager when she'd felt unfairly judged. She wasn't fourteen. And she didn't need Phillip's blessing on her wardrobe. If she shouldn't repeat Maggie's past and be blinded by love, nor should she repeat her own past and let desperation for acceptance guide her actions. "I'm sorry, Phillip, I can't marry you." Until the words were out, she hadn't known for sure whether or not she was strong enough to say them. A tiny bud of pride blossomed within her. His face registered shock. "Because I complained about your clothes?" "Of course not. I care about you and I'm flattered you asked me to be your wife, but...we're a bad match." Since he very rarely experienced any kind of failure, she held her breath, wondering if he'd be furious. He merely stared. "What did I do wrong? We can talk about it." "It's more like what I did. Almost. I came close to kissing a man last night." "You want someone else?" I don't know. "It's not that. It's just that feeling that for someone else made me see you and I aren't right for each other, that I'm not truly as committed as you deserve." She tried a smile to soften her abrupt announcement. "I'll still vote for you." "Really?" "Absolutely. You'll be a great senator." He brightened somewhat. "You think the Judge will still endorse my candidacy?" "Not a doubt in my mind." The Judge would be furious...but not with Phillip. She'd really done it this time—the disapproving wrath she'd always feared would no doubt materialize. Best to worry about that later. Pulling off her engagement ring, she said softly, "This belongs to you." He palmed the sparkling piece of jewelry, then gave her a sheepish smile. "I guess I can use the refund money to help defray campaign costs." He was gone moments later, and she wasn't sure what emotion was stronger—the axhilaration of feeling free for the first time, or sheer terror over what the heck she was supposed to do with her life next. |
Chapter Eight The knock against Jack's door was surprisingly urgent. He'd just arrived home, had been changing and checking email before going to Risa's, so it shouldn'd be her. Why come over when she expected him in fifteen minutes? Bang, bang, bang! Uneasy, he opened the door. "Jason!" The little boy stood in the hall, brown eyes frantic. "I thought I should get you. Aunt Risa's crying." Panic gripped him. "Is she all right? Is Grace?" "Everyone's fine—'cept Yertle. He went to heaven, but that's okay. He can keep my daddy company. Daddy would probably like a pet. And since I have the aquarium already, maybe Mom will let me get another turtle. Or fish. Or—" The door to 7-H swung open and Risa charged into the hallway, Grace in her arms, Natalie following behind with a thumb in her mouth. "Jason Matthew Griggs!" Risa's tone was that parental combination of relief and rage. "Sweetie, never, never leave the apartment without asking me! Do you have any idea how worried..." She lifted her head, casting Jack an apologetic glance. Jason had been right about the crying, her golden eyes were indeed red-rimmed. "I'm so sorry. I was, um, in the restroom, only gone a minute. They were watching a video. Jason, it's not safe for you to leave the apartment. Most strangers are nice people like Jack, but when I think about—" Jason's lower lip quivered, and Risa was white as a sheet, probably stricken by all the sinister possibilities she didn't want to mention to the kids. Natalie popped her thumb out of mouth. "Hi, Mr. Jack." "Hi, beautiful. You know, kids, I've never noticed before, but there's kind of a funny smell in the hall. Maybe it's from Pierpont the poodle." Natalie giggled, and he continued, "Why don't we all go into Risa's apartment where it doesn't smell funny and sort this out?" Once they were inside, standing in the white carpeted space between Risa's living room and the breakfast bar that separated her kitchen from the rest of the apartment, Risa focused on the kids. She knelt in front of Jason, careful to hold Grace far enough away that the infant's tiny grasping hands couldn't tug her brother's hair. "It's been a tough day so I won't send you to your room, just promise me you'll never do anything like that again." "I promise," the little boy mumbled. "Good. Then maybe we can order a pizza and play video games tonight," Risa said, straightening. "I'm going to look for my delivery coupons." The kids were all smiles as they resumed watching their movie, and Jack followed his red-eyed hostess into the kitchen. He noticed her hands trembled as she shuffled through discount offers. "Yertle shuffled off his mortal coil?" "I have a turtle in my freezer next to the frozen peas." Then she burst into tears. "You okay?" He felt like an imbecile; people who were wailing and trying to muffle it with a dish towel were not okay. "Fine." She lowered the towel. "Incompetent, but fine. I buy milk formula for a lactose-intolerant baby, I lose one of my charges, I get the kids a pet and the thing's dead inside a week. It could've at least had the decency to kick the bucket before the ridiculous vet bill, which cost more than the turtle and all its housing in the first place. Apparently, the little guy had pneumonia. The vet pumped him full of expensive antibiotics, and assured me as I was writing out the monstrous check that the turtle would show signs of improvement by tonight." Jack bit down on his lip, struggling not to see any morbid humor in the situation. "He didn't even last the entire drive home!" A small giggle tore out of her. "Oh, heavens, I shouldn't be laughing. That's just wrong." "You seriously have a turtle next to your peas?" "In a sealed baggie. The kids wanted to properly bury him, but since I don't have a yard, we're preserving him till Janine gets back. I was worried she'd be mad I bought them a pet. Now I'm worried what she'll think when she finds out I killed it in a matter of days." "Risa, it wasn't your fault—all turtles meet their Maker eventually. And the kids are coping." She rolled her shoulders, and he recognized the action as someone trying to relieve tension. His fingers itched to massage her tight muscles, to offer comfort it wasn't his place to give. He bounced Grace at his hip, watching her adorable baby grin because it was safer than watching her more-than-adorable babysitter. "I guess that after losing their father," Risa said, "they have some perspective on the turtle. Nat told me she was glad Yertle wasn't sick anymore, and Jason thinks the idea of having a funeral is cool. I suspect he plans to tell his class about it next week for circle time. He mentioned that an actual funeral would be much cooler than the time Mikey Baxter flushed a goldfish." Jack shifted his weight, rearranging Grace in his arms. "Um, I understand being upset about Yertle and worrying you let the kids down, but..." "I wasn't bawling over the turtle. It's just been a very long day." He noticed her hand—the bare left finger—at the same time she blurted, "Phillip and I broke up." Broke up? Shock numbed him. He plunked into one of the kitchen chairs before he either lost his balance or dropped Grace. His first impulse was to be jubilant, but Risa had been crying. "If you don't want to talk about it, I won't pry." She sniffed. "No, it's okay. It was my doing. Phillip was just the wrong man for me." Yes! "I see." Narrowing her eyes, she said, "I suppose you do. You and Janine both saw, hinted, tried to get me to see it. Phillip's a nice man, but it wouldn't be right for me to marry him" "Did he take it okay?" Though Jack hadn't personally known her that long, he'd feel her absence like a void if she weren't in his life. "He did, actually, but I've been too much of a coward to call my step-father. Lord knows how he'll take it, which is probably why I'm such a mess. It was one of my mother's last wishes that he and I get along, be a family." Jack thought that she deserved some time around a real family, one that griped and fought and made up, without its members worrying that they weren't allowed to make mistakes. If she was free of her engagement to Phillip, free to pursue a life in which love played a part, she should have a closer look at how unconditional affection worked. "Are you and the kids busy Saturday?" he heard himself ask. "Are we there yet?" Risa asked teasingly. Jack smirked. "Isn't that supposed to be the kids' line?" The children were being angels. Jason and Natalie had been playing the Alphabet Game and Grace was zonked out in her car seat. It was Risa who was edgy, wondering what Jack's family would make of her, wondering how he'd described her. His neurotic neighbor who had a habit of staring at his mouth and getting distracted? "Um, Risa?" He tapped the control panel above the steering wheel—she'd suggested he drive the van since he knew the way. "When was the last time the engine was serviced?" She laughed. "Because of the light saying something's wrong with the engine? The engine's fine. Somethinf shorted with the light, is all." "Good to know. I didn't want to break Janine's van. Seemed rude, since I've never even met her." "I'll have to introdece the two of you. Janine would love you." What woman wouldn't? Gorgeous, funny guy with no know vices and he adored kids. Fow that she thought about it, Risa couldn't imagine why ha was divorced. Why would a wife have let him go? "So...tell me who everyone is again. I'll never keep your family straight." "That's okay, I have two brothers and two sisters and stopped being able to tell them apart years ago. I just call all the girls 'gorgeous' and the men 'bro'." "Liar. I know how close you are to your family." "Yeah, we're close." But something about the way Jack bit the words off more sharply than normal made her think that there was something wrong. Was he fighting with one of his siblings? "Everything okay? You sound..." He sighed. "I should just tell you since it will probably come up today. The joke in the family has always been 'Wolfes Mate for life.' I'm the first one in four generations to get a divorce. It's...awkward at times." Her heart squeezed. "Oh, Jack, that has to be tough. I know what it's like to be in your own home and feel like you stand out or don't belong somehow." "Thanks. It's nice to have empathy and not just pity. I know they mean well, but they started feeling sorry for me even before the marriage, so the div—" "What? Why?" His handsome face colored, then became deliberately neutral as he pointed toward an exit sign. "Good news, everynne, we're almost there!" Risa couldn't remember ever feeling so blissfully *******, and it wasn't just because of Mrs. Wolfe's sinfully delicious chocolate pie The entire day had been like a fairy-tale...or at least, her version of one, dreamt up in the Judge's spacious but unwelcoming home. There were no people alive more welcoming than the Wolfes, as far as Risa was concerned. Jason and Natalie had fit right in, accepted into the clan's various children, and Jack's siblings had been delightfully entertaining, the way they affectionately ribbed one another and showed honest interest in what Risa did for a living. It was easy to see how Jack had become such a wonderful man, coming from warm, funny people like these. She watched him now, from her folding lawn chair, as he stood on the beach, holding a sparkler for Natalie. "He is so good with kids." Jack's youngest sister, pregnant and practically glowing even in the falling dusk, nodded with a wistful sigh. "Just one of life's weird ironies, isn't it? That a man like that can't father—" "Sasha Marie!" This from Angela, accompanied by a smack on the back of the head. "Hey! Be gentle with the pregnant lady," Sasha complained. Angela, having survived pregnancies of her own, wasn't that easily chastised. "I think we've probably talked Risa's ear off enough, don't you? Let's go see if Mom needs any help loading stuff up for the night." Though it took some effort to pull herself out of her chair, Sasha toddled after her sister. Risa wasn't an idiot, though, and could piece together the rest of Sasha's words. Jack had said his family felt sorry for him—because he couldn't have children? Surely that wasn't why his wife had left? There were other options available to couples who couldn’t conceive, but very few men like Jack. Almost as if he could feel his gaze on her, Jack looked up, smiling at her in a way that made her heart somersault and her sun-warmed skin heat even more. She returned the grin with one of her own, shy, but not trying to hide what she felt. She didn't know if she could trust it yet, these emotions that were more instinct than pragmatism, but at least she was free to find out now. With that thought drifting through her mind like a [ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ][ãÍÐæÝ]ing breeze, she rose, walking toward him. He straightened, too. The last of the sparklers had exhausted itself, and he left the kids to try to spot the first stars of the evening, meeting Risa halfway on the beach, out of earshot of anyone else. "Hi," he said. "Hi yourself." She felt like a girl at her first dance, hoping the boy she liked would ask her for a turn around the floor. If he didn't, would she have the guts to ask him? "I hope you had a good day," he said. "The best. Thank you for sharing this—them—with me." Pleasure etched itself in his boyish expression, his obvious delight that she liked his family. "You're welcome. I'm just glad it was at the beach, where Mom couldn't pull out twelve albums' worth of naked baby pictures." She swallowed, feeling strangely free and bold with the wind off the water rippling her hair and the sand cool and smooth beneath her bare feet. "I can think of worse fates than seeing you naked." His eyebrows shot up. "Well...I...well." A laugh rippled out of her. "And here I thought you were too much of a smart aleck to ever be at a loss for words." "I suppose it's only fair that I return the favor." He took a step closer, bending his head so that she could clearly see the mischievous expression that had replaced the shock. "Although maybe it's not technically putting you at a loss for words, I can think of a few ways to keep you from calling me names." "I take back the 'smart aleck,'" she said, her heartbeat thundering in her ears. "Too late." His lips brushed against hers. "Besides, I am a smart aleck. I'm also...a very...good...kisser." It might have been bragging, except that, in reality, he was a great kisser. |
Chapter Nine "Oooooh Aunt Risa's kissing Mr. Jack!" Jason's announcement had the same effect as a bucket of cold water being thrown over the kissing couple. Except, Risa thought sourly, the splash from a bucket of water might not have echoed up the beach and drawn the attention of Jack's entire family. She sprang back, which was a bad idea since the kiss had left her shaky and unbalanced. To add to the sudden awkwardness of the moment, she almost landed on her butt in the sand. Jack helped steady her, his hands skimming her bare arms. "You okay?" "Yeah." She cast a worried glance over her shoulder, hearing snatches of murmured conversation and seeing Jack's mother barreling toward them. "Better let me head her off," he suggested with a crooked grin. "Unless you specifically told anyone differently today, they all think you're still engaged. If you'd been anyone else, they would have made polite conversation by asking about wedding plans earlier, but they refrained out of deference to my feelings...Angela told everyone I might be smitten with you." "Yeah?" Her toes curled at the idea of big strong Jack smitten. He brushed his hand over her cheek, his affectionate gaze needing no words. Then he went to deal with his mom, leaving her to deal with Natalie and Jason. "Are you gonna marry Mr. Jack?" Jason asked. "That would be so cool! Could I be the ring-bearer? Mikey Baxter got to be the ring-bearer in his cousin's wedding." Risa fervently wished the Baxters would move to Alaska. "No, Jason, I—" "Can we tell Mommy?" Natalie looked delighted to have something interesting to share with their returning mother. Time for a quick subject change! "Speaking of your Mommy, we should head back, get your stuff packed up and change out of these sandy clothes before we pick her up." Risa figured the kids would sleep on the way to the airport, especially after the fun they'd had playing in the fresh air today. "Let's go get Grace from Jack's dad and tell everyone thank you for the nice time." They managed to say all their goodbyes without too much clumsiness, and Risa tried not to acknowledge the sly smiles sent her way. Angela was the only one to speak her mind, whispering as she hugged Risa, "He's been through too much bad--he deserves someone terrific like you." The comment left Risa with conflicting feelings as she and Jack loaded the kids into the van. On the one hand, so much acceptance in one day left her grateful and touched. On the other, she wasn't sure where a single kiss would lead. And underlying her emotions was a profound sadness that Jack should have endured heartbreak. Why did rotten things have to happen to people like Janine or Jack or Maggie? Life could be so unfair. Then again, recalling today's easy, sunlit laughter, topped off with that storybook kiss, she decided that sometimes life was pretty freaking spectacular. When the elevator doors parted at the seventh floor, Risa and Jack exchanged hushed glances. Jason had fallen asleep mid-piggy-back ride, with Jack supporting the child with one hand so he didn't slide off, and Grace was dozing in the baby sling across Jack's wide, muscular chest. Risa carried an equally unconscious Natalie. "It's silly to load them back up twenty minutes from now," Jack whispered as they walked toward 7-H. "Why don't I just stay at your place with them while you get their mom?" It sounded like a perfect idea to Risa, but she wondered how Janine would feel about a stranger keeping her children. She unlocked the door, considering. "I—Janine!" Her friend unfolded herself from the couch, turning off whatever she'd been watching on the television. "I missed you!" She cast Jack a speculative admiring glance before turning back to Risa. "They cancelled the last flight of the evening and notified passengers that they could catch an earlier one or wait until morning. I came back early and caught a cab. I take it you didn't get the messages on your cell phone?" Risa felt her face flaming. What kind of babysitter didn't check her voice mail? "I—this evening was so...I had other things on my mind, but I hope you don't think I'm terribly irresponsible. The kids—" "Look in good hands to me," Janine said with a soft smile. "I missed them terribly." Grace had already wakened to the sound of her mother's voice and began an excited baby babble that stirred Jason. "Mommy!" he squealed, no doubt damaging Jack's hearing. Jack slid the little boy down, then unfastened the sling as Jason told his mother what a fabulous week he'd had. "We had pizza, and Jack showed me how to play this new racing game, and Aunt Risa helped me with my spelling words, and Natalie and I got to swim today, and Aunt Risa might be getting married to Mr. Jack." Janine laughed, casting the adults an apologetic smile. "Kids make fanciful assumptions. Jason, honey, Aunt Risa is marrying Phillip—you remember him?" Risa cleared her throat. "Um, actually..." "You two have a lot to talk about," Jack said, looking torn between amusement and panic. "I'll just show myself out. Ms. Griggs, it was lovely to have met you. You have three amazing children." Risa glared in the direction of the door, which he closed behind him, stalling until she had to meet Janine's gaze. "So that's the hunky neighbor, huh? He does live up to description." Sitting down on the couch, a slowly waking Natalie cuddled against her, Risa invited, "Tell me all about your vacation!" "It was wonderful and relaxing and you are the best friend in the world for sending me on it, but honestly, sipping mai-tais by the pool doesn't actually make for the most entertaining anecdotes. I'm more interested in how Jason concluded you'll be marrying Mr. Jack." "I'm not really marrying him!" Janine grinned broadly. "Any chance I can have him, then?" Jack was on his way toward her apartment when Risa's door suddenly opened, nearly giving him a heart attack. He quickly bent down, as if retrieving the morning paper. She stopped in her tracks. "Oh. Hi. I was just coming over to see you." Her words, the sweetly hesitant way she said them, washed over him like the bright warmth of a sunbeam. "Really? I was just...coming over to see you, too. I thought maybe you'd like to go out for breakfast or something." If the kiss on the beach yesterday was any indication of things to come, he voted strongly for 'or something.' He didn't want to rush her into anything, but he badly wanted to taste her again. "Breakfast sounds nice, as long as you let me buy. I wanted to thank you for all the help this week." "Is that why you were coming over? Just to say thanks?" Peering up at him through her lashes, she shook her head. "Not just. There were...other reasons. After all, I promised to sit for a painting, unless you were kidding about that." "I never joke about my art," he said in an exaggerated tone of self-importance. It had the desired effect of making her laugh. "Well, then. I suppose something like that would take several sittings. We might have to spend, I don't know, hours together. Days, maybe." How would she feel about years? Jack blinked, realizing it was the first thought he'd had about the long-term future since Amy had left. It panicked him a little, the acknowledgement that he was falling for Risa. The realization that he could be hurt again. He was glad when she spoke, interrupting his thoughts. "So, anywhere in particular you'd like to eat?" "Nope, I'm not picky." Anywhere Risa was sounded good to him. It had been such a perfect day that Risa had to remind herself she didn't believe in fairy-tales. Sitting in the sunlight that spilled through Jack's balcony door while he sketched her in preparation for a later portrait, she'd talked to him about her job, her mother, her favorite movies, her weird idiosyncrasies she normally didn't share with anyone but Janine. She couldn't decide which was better—the hours of easy conversation they'd shared, or just staring at him, watching the way he looked when he was concentrating, being able to stare unchecked at his eyes, the tiny indention of a not-quite dimple next to that full mouth. She could admit to herself now that she'd occasionally regarded her mother's romantic decisions with a kind of gentle scorn. Though she'd adored her mother, Risa had vowed to make more logical choices. It had been simple to say, since she'd never known what falling in love felt like. Now, it was easier to understand Maggie's feelings, the pull of a man who made you feel this special—not that this was love already! Was it? "Risa?" Jack set aside the sketch pad he'd held. "Everything all right? You went pale all of the sudden." "I...I think I should go." She stood. "I really got behind on work this week, and I should take care of some things before returning to the office tomorrow." He stood in her way, arms crossed over his chest. "You're scared." "What?" "You have a very expressive face. Is it because of us?" He moved closer, pulling her into a loose embrace. He'd kissed her earlier, when they'd come back to his apartment, and while it had been thrilling, she'd been relieved he hadn't pushed for more. "I thought things were going perfectly." "Exactly. And that's what terrifies me." She didn't bother to deny it. "I told you about my mother's history." "Her mistakes aren't yours, Risa." "No, I make my own. You saw how my engagement crashed and burned in record time. I just need to think things through. You've already been through so much with the divorce and...everything, the last thing I want is to add to any pain." He narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean, 'and everything?'" "Nothing. Just, one of your sisters mentioned—" "That I can't have kids?" He swore. "They had no right to tell you that." "I know. That's why I wasn't going to mention it. If it helps, I don't think she meant to. Jack, I'm so sorry." "I don't want your pity." His arms dropped away from her. "I'm fine with it." She snorted. "That was believable." "Well, what did you want me to say, 'poor me?' I've accepted my role as Uncle Jack." "What do you mean accepted your role? Don't you want kids?" Just because he was single now didn't mean he always would be, or that he didn't have options. He shot her a dark glare. "I can't see how it's any of my neighbor's business, but yeah, I wanted kids. Which was why we—my wife and I—filed for adoption. Instead of sticking it out through the process, though, she decided she'd rather have her own children, with someone who wasn't defective and could give them to her." Risa winced at being downgraded to nothing more than a neighbor, winced again when he said defective. "Jack, it was her loss." "Somehow, it didn't feel that way when I had to withdraw the application for the baby we'd already seen pictures of, or when I had to move out of my home, one we'd rebuilt together. If you don't mind, I think I'd like to be alone now. You're not the only one who has work to get done before Monday." Her feet were like lead weights she could barely move toward the door, but how could she argue her way into staying when she'd been the one who said she needed to leave? Truthfully, she did have lots of work to do. But, as important as Perfect Placement had always been to her, there was a new person in her life who meant more. |
Chapter Ten Risa's Monday sucked. First she'd overslept, causing her to rush. When she'd reached the lobby, she'd realized she'd left her briefcase upstairs. She hit the button to take the elevator bacj up. as the doors parted, Jack had stepped into the lobby and she'd felt her entire world stop. Their gazes had locked for a millisecond before he'd nodded crisply and walked away, and then she'd felt like her world had shattered. Between her preoccupation with him and her getting behind last week, work wasn't going smoodhly, and Janine's announcement that the Judge was holdhng on line three did nothing to calm Risa's mood. Her step-father never called, she thought as rhe picked up the receiver. Obviously Phillip had told him about the breakup. Thomas Winters was probably understandably indignant that she hadn't told him herself, but she'd managed to find excuses to put it off, what with her babysitting and falling hopelessly for her next door neighbor. "H-hello?" "Clarise, this is your step-father. I'm on my cell phone and in your area. Are you free for lunch?" She had no idea, but since she'd never defied the man in her life, a quick, "Sure" rolled off her tongue. "Good, I'll pick you up in five minutes." He disconnected. Running a hand through her already disheveled hair, Risa told herself she might as well get their confrontation over on a bad day. No sense ruining a good day with it. "That was brief," Janine said from the doorway of the office. "He's on his way here. To take me to lunch. Probably to ask how I could let a catch like Phillip get away." "Phillip was not the catch for you. You just tell him that." Risa bit her lip. Did she know who the catch for her was? Yesterday afternoon, she'd been sitting in Jack's apartment all dreamy and moon-eyed over him. Ten minutes later, he'd politely thrown her out. Maybe romance just wasn't her thing. "I don't know what you're thinking, but Jason gets that same expression when I remind him he has a spelling test coming up." "I was thinking about men." "Oh, well that will definitely do it, then." "Janine, you should've seen the way he looked at me this morning!" Since Risa had already shared the humiliation of Jack dismissing her like they were perfect strangers, she trusted her friend could follow the segue. "Honestly, Phillip took our breakup with more warmth than that." "A sure sign that you and Phillip weren't actually in love," Janine said as the outer door opened. "The Judge!" As in, "here comes the..." "Be brave," Janine mouthed before turning. "Good afternoon, Judge Winters. Risa's expecting you." Once they were in the Judge's sedan, Risa shot her step-father a pained look. "I feel like I’m thirteen, trying to get up the nerve to tell you about a bad grade." The man's bushy white eyebrows crept upward in an expression of austere surprise. "I don't recall you ever getting any bad ones." "A few B's. They weren't A's, and that's what you wanted." "Certainly I wanted to encourage you to do your best. And look at you now, a competent businesswoman, so you see, it's good that I pushed." Sure. But would a little more encouragement have hurt? "I suppose you've talked to Phillip," she said as the Judge turned the car out of the parking lot. Somehow, being in the car where they could both look at the road and not at each other made the conversation easier. Marginally. "I did. But I'd like to hear your version of events." She had the insane urge to swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. "There's not much to tell. I realized I didn't love him, and so I told him I couldn't marry him. You don't have to tell me, sir, that Phillip is a good man, a successful one who would have made an excellent provider, but—" He made a sudden left, swerving the car into the parking lot of a bank that had closed a few weeks' earlier because a new branch was opening a block over. "Why are we stopping here?" she asked, staring around the abandoned lot. "Clarise, are you of the opinion that I don't value love as an important ingredient in a union?" "Oh. Well, no, I suppose not." "You suppose not? Why do you think I married Maggie, God rest her soul, if not for love? If Phillip Donavan wasn't the man for you, and you know that in your heart, you don't have to justify it to me." It was gruff, but it was approval, and it blossomed inside her like the first rose of spring. "Thank you. Sir. That means a lot to me." He looked surprised by this. "Indeed? I'm glad we had this talk then. Truthfully, I know it would have made Maggie happy if we'd talked more, been closer, but it was hard, you being the spittin' image of a woman I'd loved and lost. And me knowing nothing about parenting. But we did the best we could, didn't we, Clarise?" After a moment, she nodded, even managing a smile to soothe the rare note of uncertainty in his voice. It was too late to ever go back and have the childhood she'd longed for, but maybe a fresh start wasn't out of the question. "Here." Jack thrust the bag into his sister's arms and was already turning to go when he added, "Thanks for letting me borrow them." "And hello to you, too," Angela said, frowning as she tightened her grip on the video game equipment. "Care to come in for a cup of coffee?" "I need to get back to work," he mumbled, wishing it weren't a bright, shining May afternoon. The gaily chirping birds were giving him a heck of a headache. "You know, you were in a lot better mood when I saw you two days ago." Irritation blazed through him, reversing his direction so that he marched back onto Angie's front porch. "Was it you who told Risa about me?" His sister sighed. "So that's what's got you as grumpy as a bear with a thorn in its butt? It wasn't me who told her, no, but—" "Never mind. It's not important." "She's obviously important," Angela said. "Another ten minutes without kids interrupting, you guys might have been horizontal in the surf." "Get your mind out of the gutter. It's not like that with Risa." "How is it, then?" He opened his mouth, closed it. Raked a hand over his unshaven jaw. Had Risa noticed this morning that he hadn't shaved? He wished he'd looked slicker when he'd seen her. Polished was her type, like Phillip. No, Phillip obviously wasn't her type, or she wouldn't have dumped him, and what do you care, anyway? "Jack?" Great. He was having silent arguments with himself and his sister was staring at him like she was going to call for the butterfly nets to come take him away. "I'm fine." "You were a much better liar as a kid. Want to come in for that coffee?" "Yeah, thanks." Driving back to work this distracted was like asking for an accident. Maybe the caffeine would clear his head. "So." His sister pulled down two mugs. "We were talking about Risa." "Not much left to say. She just broke off an engagement, Ange. She's not ready for anything." "She's not, or you're not? Don't think your family hasn't noticed your lack of dates since the divorce." "Well, what do you want me to do, Angela, marry another woman who tells me that she's fine with circumstances I can't control, then changes her mind a few years later?" "Jack. You can't throw your life away because one woman couldn't keep her word. That's just stupid, and Mama will be the first to tell you she didn't raise any fools." After a moment, he grinned. "You've always been such a bossy know-it-all." "Darn straight. And now that I'm old and married, I've got wisdom, too, so take my advice—talk to Risa. You look miserable." "Yeah, but relationships bring the potential to become even more miserable." She stirred sugar into her cup, pushed his across the kitchen island. "Love brings the potential for lots of things, little brother, you just gotta be open to them." "Love? I didn't say love. I said relationship, and even that is premature. I've known Risa less than a month." Angela shrugged. "Greg and I knew each other all through high school and all through college before he proposed; Mom and Dad eloped after two weeks and are still going strong. I don't think there's a right way or wrong way to do it. The trick is, you actually do it instead of chicken out. If you don't talk to her, I'm telling all our siblings that you're a pansy." With his sister's pansy accusation ringing in his ears, Jack decided to make a grand gesture. Something that, best case would strike Risa as romantic and dramatic—especially since Phillip didn't seem like the type who ever demonstrated she was worth a little drama and effort—and worst case, Jack's actions would at least make her laugh and break the ice. What he wanted to say would be a lot less terrifying and awkward if she was smiling at him. So, he hoisted himself over to Risa's balcony and knocked on the glass sliding door. Although it was still fairly early in the evening, he'd heard her come home about half an hour ago. Now, he saw her wandering toward him, wearing work clothes and a puzzled expression. She was laughing, but appeared understandably confused, when she unlocked the door. "Jack?" "Can I come inside? I'm parboiling out hepe." "Well of course you are." She moved aside. "It's May and you're waaring...flannel?" "Pajamas my nephew Tyler gave me last Christmas. I'm doing a recreation here, but I dreg the line at weird facial goop." For a moment, she frowned, then beadization dawned in her eyes. "The apricot facial mask. From when I landed on your balcony in my pj's." "Right, the night we met. Risa, I don't know if you're aware /f how much you've changed my life since then." "Oh." She swallowed nervously. "You mean in a good way, right?" He grinned. "Yeah. Occasionally maddening, but good." "Maddening? Hey!" "Well, you try installing firewall tests for a billion dollar corporation with your gorgeous next door neighbor occupying all your thoughts." "I'm not gorgeous," she said self-consciously, "but I know a little something about not being able to think of anything but your neighbor." He cupped her cheeks in his hands. "Say what you like, I see gorgeous. I also see the woman who's inspired me with the courage to face life again. After you told me a little about your mother, I thought you were avoiding the risks that come with love. But I was hiding from those risks myself. Not being able to have kids of my own has always been painful, but I was using that as an excuse not to consider any more long-term relationships. I rationalized it, but really I was just being a. . .well, to use my older sister's term, a pansy." Risa laughed. "Oh, Jack, that's not how I see you at all. And you were right about my not wanting to take risks. Maybe I just hadn't met someone worth the risks before." "And now?" She stood on her tip-toes, kissing him gently, thanking him for this silly stunt, for bringing so much laughter and emotion into her life. For freeing that emotion within her. She felt as if she and Janine were closer than ever before and maybe even she and the Judge could build a real relationship now. When they broke apart, Jack leaned his forehead to hers. "One of the things Amy said when she left was that she wasn't sure she could ever truly love someone else's child as her own. After watching you with those three kids this week, I know that would never be true of you. You have a lot of love inside you, Risa Alexander." Tears stung her eyes. "Thank you. That's a really beautiful thing to say." "If you don't already have plans for the evening, I could hang around and say some other great stuff." She laughed. "All right, but expect to be interrupted frequently." To prove her point, she kissed him again, reveling in the jolts of electricity that shot all the way to her toes, the excited dip in her stomach that made her feel as if she were about to shoot over a hill on the best roller coaster of her life Funny, she'd always wanted to feel like she belonged—had even founded a business devoted to helping others fit somewhere professionally—and here, in Jack's arms, she finally knew just where she wanted to be. THE END |
THE END Hope U enjoy reading it. KATE :flowers2: |
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