* * *
When Jessica had agreed to drive north with Carter, he had wanted to do it that Sunday for the sake of getting her feedback as soon as possible. She had put him off for a week, knowing that she had far too much work to do in preparation for exams, to take off for the whole day. In point of fact, the following Sunday wouldn’t be much better; though she had teaching assistants to grade exams, she always did her share, and she liked it that way.
But Carter was eager, and she knew that she could plan around the time. So they had settled on the day, and he had promised to call her the Saturday before to tell her when he would be picking her up. She wasn’t scheduled to hear from him until then, and in the aftermath of that embarrassingly carnal dream, she was grateful for the break. Given twelve days’ time, she figured she could put her relationship with him into its proper perspective.
That perspective, she decided had to be business, which was what she thought about during those days when she had the free time to let her mind wander. She concentrated on the business of converting Crossslyn Rise into something practical and productive—and acclimating herself to that conversion.
To that end, she called Nina Stone and arranged to meet her for dinner at a local seafood restaurant, a chic establishment overlooking the water on the Crosslyn Rise end of town. The two had met the year before, browsing in a local bookstore, and several months after that, Jessica had approached her about selling Crosslyn Rise. Though Nina hadn’t grown up locally, she’d been working on the North Shore for five years, and during that time she had established herself as an aggressive broker with both smarts and style. She was exactly the kind of woman Jessica had always found intimidating, but strangely, they’d hit it off. Jessica could see Nina’s tough side, but there was a gentler, more approachable side as well. That side came out when they were together and Nina let down her defenses.
Despite her reputation, despite the aggressiveness Jessica knew was there, Nina had never pressured her. She was like Carter in the sense that, having come from nothing, she was slightly in awe of Crosslyn Rise—which meant that she was in no rush to destroy it.
For that reason among others, Jessica felt comfortable sharing the latest on the Rise with her.
“A condominium community?” Nina asked warily. She was a small woman, slender and pixieish, which made her assertiveness in business somewhat unexpected and therefore all the more effective. “I don’t know, Jessica. It would be a shame to do that to such a beautiful place.”
“Condominium communities can be beautiful.”
“But Crosslyn Rise is that much more so.”
Jessica sighed. “I can’t afford it, Nina. You’ve known that for a while. I can’t afford to keep it as it is, and you haven’t had any luck finding a buyer.”
“The market stinks,” Nina said, sounding defensive, looking apologetic. “I’m selling plenty on the low and middle end of the scale, but precious little at the top.” She grew more thoughtful. “Condos are going, though, I do have to admit. Particularly in this area. There’s something about the ocean. Young professionals find it romantic, older ones find it restful.” She paused to sip her wine. Her fingers were slender, her nails polished red to match her suit. “Tell me more. If this was Gordon Hale’s idea, I would guess that it’s financially sound. The man is a rock. You say he’s putting together a consortium?”
“Not yet, but he will when it’s time. Right now, I’m working with someone to define exactly what it is that I want.”
“Someone?”
After the slightest hesitation, she specified, “An architect.”
Nina studied her for a minute. “You look uncomfortable.”
Jessica pushed her glasses up on her nose. “No.”
“Is this architect a toughie?”
“No. He’s very nice. His name is Carter Malloy.” She watched for a reaction. “Ever heard of him?”
“Sure,” Nina said without blinking an eye. “He’s with Malloy and Goodwin. He’s good.”
Jessica felt a distant pride. “You’re familiar with his work, then?”
“I saw something he did in Portsmouth not long ago. Portsmouth isn’t my favorite place, but this was beautiful. He had converted a textile mill into condos. Did an incredible job combining old and new.” She frowned, then grinned at the same time. “If I recall correctly, the man himself is beautiful.”
“I don’t know as I’d call him beautiful,” Jessica answered, but a little too fast, and that roused Nina’s interest.
“What would you call him?”
She thought for a minute. “Pleasant looking.”
“Not the man I remember. Pleasant looking is someone you’d pass by and smile at kindly. A beautiful man stirs stronger emotions. Carter Malloy was ruggedly masculine—at least, in the picture I saw.”
“He is masculine looking, I suppose.”
Nina came forward, voice lowered but emphatically chiding. “You suppose, my foot! I can’t believe you’re as immune to men as you let on. One lousy husband can’t have neutered you, and you’re not exactly over the hill. You have years of good fun still ahead, if you want to make something of them.” She raised her chin. “Who was the last man you dated?”
Jessica shrugged.
“Who?” Nina prodded, but good-naturedly as she settled back in her seat. “You must remember.”
“It’s a difficult question. How do you define a date? If it’s going somewhere with a man, I do that all the time with colleagues.”
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. I’m talking about the kind of date who picks you up at your house, takes you out for the evening, kisses you when he brings you home, maybe even stays the night.”
“Uh, I’m not into that.”
“Sleeping with men?”
“Are you?” Jessica shot back, in part because she was uncomfortable doing the answering and in part because she wanted to know. She and Nina had become friends in the past year, but the only thing Jessica knew about her social life was that she rarely spent a Saturday night at home.
Nina was more amused than anything. “I’m not into sleeping around, but I do enjoy men. There are some nice ones around who are good for an evening’s entertainment. Since I’m not looking to get married, I don’t threaten them.”
“You don’t want to get married?”
“Honey, do I have the time?”
“Sure. If you want.”
“What I want,” Nina said, sitting back in her chair, looking determined but vulnerable, “is to make good money for myself. I want my own business.”
“I thought you were making good money now.”
“Not enough.”
“Are you in need?”
“I’ve been in need since the day I learned that my mother prostituted herself to put milk on our table.”
Jessica caught in a breath. “I’m sorry, Nina. I didn’t know.”
“It’s not something I put on the multiple-listings chart,” she quipped, but her voice was low and sober. “That was in Omaha. I have a fine life for myself here, but I won’t ever sell myself like my mother did. So I need money of my own. I refuse to ever ask a man for a cent, and I won’t have to, if I play my cards right.”
“You’re doing so well.”
“I could be doing even better if I went out on my own. But I’ll have to hustle.”
Jessica was getting a glimpse of the driven Nina, the one who was restless, whose mind was always working, whose heart was prepared to sacrifice satisfaction for the sake of security. Jessica found it sad. “But you’re only thirty.”
“And next year I’ll be thirty-one, and thirty-two the year after that. The way I figure it, if I work my tail off now and go independent within a year, by the time I’m thirty-five, I can be the leading broker in the area, with a fully trained staff, to boot. Maybe then I’ll be able to ease up a little, even think of settling down.” She gave a crooked smile. “Assuming there are any worthwhile men out there then.”
&nb
sp; “If there are, you’ll find them,” Jessica said, and felt a shaft of the same kind of envy she’d known as a child, when all the other girls were prettier and more socially adept than she. Nina had short, shiny hair, flawless skin and delicate bones. She dressed on the cutting edge between funky and sophisticated and had a personality to match. “You draw people like honey draws bees.”
“Lucky for me, or I’d be a loss at what I do.” She paused to give Jessica a look that was more cautious than clever. “So I’ve made the ultimate confession. And you? Do you ever think of settling down?”
Jessica smiled and shook her head. “I don’t attract men the way you do.”
“Why not?” Nina asked, perfectly serious. “You’re smart and pretty and gainfully employed. Aren’t those the things men look for nowadays?
Pretty. Carter had used that word. A man has to work a little harder to find out what’s going on in that pretty head of yours. It was an expression, of course, not to be taken seriously. “Men look for eye-catching women like you.”
“And once they’ve done the eye-catching, they take a closer look and see the flaws. No man would want me right now. I’m too hard. But you’re softer. You’re established. You’re confident in ways I’m not.”
“What ways?” Jessica shot back in disbelief.
“Financial. You have Crosslyn Rise.”
“Not for long,” came the sad reminder.
While the waiter served their lobsters, Nina considered that. As soon as he left, she began to speak again. “You’re still a wealthy woman, Jessica. The problem is fluidity of funds. You don’t have enough to support the Rise because your assets are tied up in the Rise. If you go through with the project you’ve mentioned, you’ll emerge with a comfortable nest egg. Besides, you don’t have the fear—” she paused to tie the lobster bib around her neck “—of being broke that I have. You’re financially sound, and you’re independent. That gives you a head start in the peace-of-mind department. So all you have to do—” she tore a bright red feeler from the steaming lobster “—is to find a terrific guy, settle down somewhere within commuting distance of Harvard and have babies.”
“I don’t know,” Jessica murmured. She was looking at her lobster as though she weren’t sure which part to tackle first. “Things are never that simple.”
“You watch. Things will get easier when this business with the Rise is settled.” That said, she began to suck on the feeler.
Jessica, too, paused to eat, but she kept thinking about Nina’s statement. After several minutes, she asked, “Are we talking about the same ‘things’?”
“Men. We’re talking about men.”
“But what does my settling the Rise have to do with men?”
“You’ll be freer. More open to the idea of a relationship.” When Jessica’s expression said she still didn’t make the connection, Nina said, “In some respects, you’ve been wedded to the Rise. No—” she held up a hand “—don’t take this the wrong way. I’m not being critical. But in the time I’ve known you, I’ve formed certain impressions. Crosslyn Rise is your haven. You’ve lived there all your life. Even when you married, you lived there.”
“Tom wanted it.”
“I’m sure he did. Still, you lived there, and when the marriage fell apart, he left and you were alone there again.”
“I wasn’t alone. My parents were there.”
“But you’re alone now, and you’re still there. Crosslyn Rise is like a companion.”
“It’s a house,” Jessica protested.
But Nina had a point to make. “A house with a presence of its own. When you’re there, do you feel alone?”
“No.”
“But you should—not that I’m wishing loneliness on you, but man wasn’t put on earth to live in solitude.”
“I’m with people all day. I like being alone at night.”
“Do you?” she asked, arching a delicately shaped brow. “I don’t. But then, my place isn’t steeped in the kind of memories that Crosslyn Rise is. If I were to come home and be enveloped by a world of memories, I probably wouldn’t feel alone, either.” She stopped talking, poked at the lobster with her fork for a distracted minute, then looked up at Jessica. “Once Crosslyn Rise is no longer yours in the way that it’s always been, you may need something more.”
Jessica shot her a despairing look. “Nothing like the encouragement of a friend.”
“But it is encouragement. The change will be good for you. More so than any other person I know, you’ve had a sameness to your life. Coming out from the shadow of Crosslyn Rise will be exciting.”
The image of the shadow stuck in Jessica’s mind. The more she mulled it over, the more she realized that it wasn’t totally bizarre. “Do you think I hide behind the Rise?” It was a timid question, offered to a friend with the demand for an honest answer.
Nina gave it as she saw it. “To some extent. Where your work is concerned, you’ve been as outgoing as anyone else. Where your personal life is concerned, you’ve fallen back on the Rise, just because it’s always been there. But you can stand on your own in any context, Jessica. If you don’t know that now, you will soon enough.”
* * *
Soon enough wasn’t as soon as Jessica wanted. At least, that was what she was thinking the following Sunday morning as she dressed to spend the day driving north with Carter. He’d called her the morning before to ask if eight was too early to come. It wasn’t; she was an early riser. Her mind was freshest during those first postdawn hours. She did some of her most productive work then.
She didn’t feel particularly productive on Sunday morning, though. Nor, after mixing, matching and discarding four different outfits did she feel particularly fresh. She couldn’t decide what to wear, because the occasion was strange. She and Carter certainly weren’t going on a date. This was business. Still, he’d mentioned stopping for something to eat, maybe even shopping, and those weren’t strictly business ventures. A business suit was too formal, jeans too casual, and she didn’t want to wear a teaching ensemble, because she was tired of wearing teaching ensembles.
At length, she decided on a pair of gabardine slacks and a sweater she’d bought in the Square that winter. The sweater was the height of style, the saleswoman had told her, but Jessica had bought it because it was slouchy and comfortable. For the first time, she was glad it was stylish, too. She was also glad it was a pale gray tweed, not so much because it went with her eyes but because it went with the slacks, which, being black, were more sophisticated than some of her other things.
For a time, she distracted herself wondering why she wanted to look sophisticated. She should look like herself, she decided, which was more down-to-earth than sophisticated. But that didn’t stop her from matching the outfit up with shiny black flats, from dusting the creases of her eyelids with mocha shadow, from brushing her hair until it shone and then coiling it into a neat twist at the nape of her neck.
She was a bundle of nerves by the time Carter arrived, and the situation wasn’t helped by his appearance. He looked wonderful—newly showered and shaved, dressed in a burgundy sweater and light gray corduroy pants.
Taking her heavy jacket from her, he stowed it in the trunk of the car with his own. He held the door while she slipped into the passenger’s seat, then circled the car and slid behind the wheel.
“I should warn you,” Jessica said when he started the car, “that I’m a terrible passenger. If you have any intention of speeding, you’ll have a basket case on your hands.”
“Me? Speed?”
Without looking at him, she sensed his grin. “I can remember a certain squealing of tires.”
“Years and years ago, and if it’ll put your mind at ease, the last accident I had was when I was nineteen,” Carter answered with good humor, and promptly stepped on the gas. He didn’t step on it far, only enough to maintain the speed limit once they’d reached the highway, and not once did he feel he was holding back. Sure, there were times when he was alo
ne in the car and got carried away by the power of the engine, but he wasn’t a reckless driver. He certainly didn’t vent his anger on the road as he used to do.
But then, he didn’t feel the kind of anger at the world that he used to feel. He rarely felt anger at all—frustration, perhaps, when a project that he wanted didn’t come through, or when one that did wasn’t going right, or when one of the people under him messed up, or when a client was being difficult—but not anger. And he wasn’t feeling any of those things at the moment. He’d been looking forward to this day. He was feeling lighthearted and refreshed, almost as though the whole world was open to him just then.
He took his eyes from the road long enough to glance at Jessica. Her image was already imprinted on his mind, put there the instant she’d opened her front door, but he wanted a moment of renewed pleasure.
She looked incredibly good, he thought, and it wasn’t simply a matter of having improved with age. He’d noted that improvement on the two other occasions when he’d seen her, but seeing her today took it one step further. She was really pretty—adorable, he wanted to say, because the small, round glasses sitting on her nose had that effect on her straight features, but her outfit was a little too serious to be called adorable. He liked the outfit. It was subtle but stylish, and seemed perfectly suited to who she was. He was pleased to have her in the car with him. She added the class that he never quite believed he’d acquired.
“Comfortable?” he asked.
She darted him a quick glance. “Uh-huh.”
He let that go for several minutes, then asked, “How are exams going?”
“Pretty well,” she said on an up note.
“You sound surprised.”
“I never know what to expect. There have been years when it’s been one administrative foul-up after another—exams aren’t printed on time, or they’re delivered to the wrong place, that kind of thing.”
“At Harvard?” he teased.
She took his teasing with a lopsided smile. “At Harvard. This year, the Crimson has done itself proud.”
The Dream (Crosslyn Rise Trilogy) Page 10