Miss that voice. “Did I tell you that he’s from Houston? He’s got the best accent. It’s kind of low and there’s this gravelly drawl, too. It’s awesome.” She practically got chills up and down her spine every time she thought about it.
Never mind his kisses.
Carmen fanned her face before popping another slice into her mouth. “¡Dios mio!”
“I know! Now I won’t ever see him again.”
“Señora Greer, are you upset that you had to fire this man or because you won’t see him no more?”
Remy lifted one eyebrow. “Are we being honest?”
“Always.”
“Both. Well, okay, mainly that I won’t see him anymore. Which is stupid, because I told him going out together had been a mistake.”
“Because?”
“Because he scared me. He made me feel alive again.”
“Señora Greer, maybe that’s how you should feel, sí?”
Remy couldn’t answer. She was afraid to.
Carmen stood, deposited the orange peels in the trash, then bustled around the kitchen, her soft-soled shoes squeaking as they always did. Remy watched her neatly fold a dish towel and slide it into the drawer to the left of the sink, then, seemingly satisfied that everything was as it should be, she went to the hall closet and picked up her purse. “I think I’ll go home now.”
Feeling slightly let down, Remy nodded. “Oh. Okay.”
Looking as stern as Remy had ever seen her, Carmen said, “Señora Greer, I have something more to say. You should…you should call him.”
“I can’t.”
“You should.”
Remy could only imagine how that would go over. “And say what? That I’m sorry I fired him?”
“No, no, no. Señora Greer, you need to take the job out of your mind.”
“I can’t—”
Carmen interrupted. “I think you’ve forgotten that your life didn’t used to be all about work. It used to be about having fun, too. Maybe it’s time you remembered that?” She paused at the door. “Don’t forget that I won’t be here the rest of the week.”
“You’re going to Tampa, aren’t you?”
“Oh, yes. My newest grandson is getting christened. All my family will be there.”
“I hope you have a good time. Hug everyone for me.”
“I will.” Wagging a finger, Carmen glared at her again before opening the back door. “Remember what I said, Señora Greer. There’s more to life than work. And more to you, too. I promise.”
Still seated at the kitchen table, Remy listened to Carmen start her car and drive off. Carmen was right about there being more to her than just work.
She knew that, too. And she did have other friends. And Mark’s family was wonderful. Yes, there were lots of people she could do things with. Of course, they were longtime friends…friends who’d been at her wedding and had stayed by her side during Mark’s illness. Later they’d been incredibly supportive during the weeks after his funeral.
And they still asked her to do things. As a matter of fact, she’d been invited to a party on the weekend. She just hadn’t planned to attend.
But maybe she should consider going. And the next time someone introduced her to a man, perhaps she should actually smile and flirt a bit.
Perhaps if she’d been a little more outgoing, she wouldn’t have been so hung up on Tyler. She’d feel a bit more like she used to feel.
Who knows? Maybe a conversation could lead to a phone call or a date? Maybe then she’d have a reason to put on something besides a suit.
She missed feeling feminine. To have a reason to buy strappy sandals and a dress that showed a bit too much cleavage. To buy a black lace nightgown—one that wasn’t very comfortable or warm—because she never planned to sleep in it.
At forty-two, it seemed kind of sad all that was in her past.
Of course, it didn’t have to be. Just recently she’d gone sailing. She’d been with someone who didn’t expect her to be a martyr. Who didn’t whisper that she was a widow.
Who kissed her as if she wasn’t too old to have romance in her life.
It was just too bad that he was the wrong guy. So wrong…in every way possible.
TO TYLER’S DISMAY, Cindy burst out laughing when he told her he’d been fired.
“How long did that job of yours last? Ten days?”
“I was there four weeks.” It had seemed longer, though.
Still giggling, his sister tucked her tanned legs up on the couch after she poured them each a glass of crisp chardonnay. “Ty, you actually sound upset! We both know this so wasn’t the job for you. A call-center cubicle would be the last place on earth where you would be happy. What are you going to do now?”
He sipped his wine, appreciating its icy tartness as they sat on her back deck and watched the sun glide low, then seem to sit suspended over the horizon. “Sit here with you.”
“And then?”
“I don’t know.”
“Ty, you’re not going to leave me, are you?”
He heard the edge in her voice and felt her agitation. The worry. “No way. Cindy, I meant it when I promised I’m going to live close to you. To stay that way.”
“But if the job situation—”
“Is no big deal,” he finished. “I’ll find something here. I will. I want to see the girls. I want us to be close again.” Those promises, at least, were not difficult to keep.
“I want us to stay close, too.” Below them, a pair of teens walked on the winding path toward the beach. After just a few steps the boy pulled the long-legged girl into his arms and kissed her.
Cindy watched them and smiled. “Oh, look at them. They’re so cute, so in love. Remember feeling like that, Ty?”
“Being horny? Yeah.”
She picked up one of the crackers she’d been nibbling and tossed it at him. “Shut up. I’m talking about young love. Of not being able to wait another minute before sneaking another kiss. All that anticipation. That’s how I was with Jeremy.”
He turned away from the teens, who were now rolling around in the sand, and looked at his sister in surprise. “Well, there’s a name I haven’t heard in a while.”
“I may not talk about him…but I sure haven’t forgotten the guy. Jeremy was a big part of my life, you know. He was special.”
Jeremy had been her high school boyfriend. Cindy would never guess, but Tyler knew for certain that Jeremy’s yearnings had never been especially chaste or sweet.
To Tyler’s disgust, Jeremy had never been shy about telling everyone on the team about his feelings for Cindy Mann. Tyler had had to pound the kid once for talking trash about his sister. “I’m glad you broke up with him.”
“Oh, stop. All I’m saying is that sometimes I miss those feelings. Of course I love Keith, but we’re married and have kids and sometimes only talk about feedings and nap time and schedules.” She sighed. “It’s been a while since we’ve been all hot and bothered.”
Tyler supposed he’d miss feeling that way, too…if he hadn’t been feeling extremely hot and bothered the past few weeks.
Choosing Cindy’s euphemism, he knew he’d been all full of “young love,” too. Now, even though Remy had tossed him out of the office, he still wanted to take her out to dinner. To watch her emotions run through her eyes. “You ever hear what happened to old Jeremy?”
“Yeah,” she replied, her tone flat. “Last I heard, he got some navy groupie pregnant when he was on leave. Now they’re living on a base in California.”
This time it was Tyler who couldn’t help but laugh. “I guess he was still searching for some of that ‘young love,’ too.”
Cindy responded by pouring them another glass of wine. “Let Jeremy be a lesson to you, brother. Sometimes those yearnings don’t last. You need to concentrate on common likes and interests. Stability. Chances are what you felt for Remy probably wasn’t the real thing.”
“It felt real.”
Raising her glass, she s
hrugged. “Perhaps. But I’d bet a dollar that this older woman was probably not the one for you. It’s probably a blessing that she fired and broke up with you all at the same time. Try looking for someone a little more fun, Ty. Someone more like you.”
Thinking about how easy Remy was to be around, about how much he’d enjoyed sailing with her, he said, “She is.”
“Maybe, though I don’t think so. If she’d been so perfect, you would’ve been eager for her to meet us.”
“No, I wouldn’t have. We only went sailing, Cindy. And just because she broke up with me, I haven’t given up hope.”
“Well, promise me this. If you two see each other again, why don’t you let us meet her?”
“Leave it, Cindy.” Feeling frustrated, with both himself and with how poorly things were going, Tyler sipped his wine and watched the sun continue to set.
The bright orange ball now hung so low, it illuminated the sea. Within minutes it would be dark and the cranes would come out circling for the next meal.
Yes, life always went on. No matter what happened, life would go on. Even if your parents died, hours continued to pass. Even if a spouse was diagnosed with cancer. Even if you lost a job.
By his side, Cindy nibbled her lip, looking obviously frustrated. “I’m sorry if I said too much, Ty. If I pushed too hard. It’s just…I care. That’s all.”
“I care about you, too. Don’t worry. Everything will work out. If I never see Remy again, I’m sure I’ll meet someone new. And if a miracle happens and Remy and I start dating again, I’ll let you meet her. I promise.”
Trust and happiness sparkled in her eyes. “That’s all I need to hear. Thank you.” Finally they settled into a companionable silence, happy to just sit and listen to the waves crash against a formation of rocks below. Tyler forced himself not to wish for anything more.
Chapter Twelve
The dinner party had been brutal. Oh, the company had been fine, but Remy had never felt more alone or single. The only bright spot was that Craig and Janice had been invited, too. Remy and Mark used to join them for dinner every once in a while. Back when he’d been healthy.
So the night had started off well enough. But then she’d discovered that Craig and Janice had planned a little surprise with the hostess.
They’d brought along Blake—Remy’s prospective date. When she’d learned that news, it had been all she could do to keep a smile on her face. Every bit of her had been screaming for her to run for cover. Yes, she’d hoped to meet someone, but not like this. Not a meeting where the guy looked as if he’d been pushed her way, like a sacrificial lamb.
Not that Blake was horrible. He hadn’t been at all. In fact, Blake had been nice. He was attractive in that fifty-year-old way, too. He’d somehow managed to become successful in the banking industry and, wonder of wonders, was doing well.
Actually, everything about him—from his haircut to his Italian-cut suit—screamed success and money and class. He was confident and pleasant and extremely well mannered.
In addition, there was a glint in his eyes signaling that he found her attractive. “Ramona, I can’t believe we’ve never run into each other before.”
“I don’t date much.”
His eyes clouded. “I’ve been through tough times, too. Margaret, my wife, left me eighteen months ago. Said she was tired of being married.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “Thanks, but I think I’m over the worst of it. And I’m better off without her. She had an affair.”
Though a small part of her was rebelling from hearing about his troubles only moments after meeting him, the greater, more mature part of her figured it took a pretty special type of guy to admit such secrets. “That had to be tough.”
“It was. Counseling helped. And…life goes on, you know.”
“You’re exactly right.” Life did go on. She’d sure been hearing that a lot lately. It would be a good thing to remember. And, once more, she should be happy that such a guy was interested in her. She should be flattered to have his attention. She should be enjoying his company.
“So, maybe we could see each other again?”
She gritted her teeth. Remembering the promise to herself, she forced herself to smile. “I’d like that.”
Blake smiled, then excused himself—a buddy of his was signaling for him. For a moment Remy stood there, a little taken aback by his hasty exit. Then, to her amazement, she noticed he was speaking to yet another woman. One who wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, either.
Had she just been taken in by a few great lines?
Ugh. Just the thought of that left a bad taste in her mouth.
Later, when he circled back and asked for her number, she conveniently forgot to give it to him, though Blake would most likely just get it from one of her friends.
Emotionally exhausted, she left the party soon after.
Remy had been uncomfortable the whole time. Blake—or anyone just like him—wasn’t who she wanted to be with. No, that person was taller, younger and far more handsome. And he didn’t drive a Mercedes. He drove a Corvette.
Throwing her keys onto the little tray on the table in the front hallway, Remy stood for a long moment. Gazed around the empty foyer. Around the professionally decorated living room.
Automatically she started walking to the guest bedroom. A conversation with Mark always made her feel better. But now, for some reason, the thought of an imagined conversation with a man who would never hold her again made her feel even worse.
No, she wanted someone real. Someone made of flesh and blood. Someone who made her feel right. Turning around, she knew there was only one option. And she had to do it or she was going to go crazy.
Crossing the foyer to her office, she pulled out her briefcase and snatched up a small white sheet of paper she’d scribbled a number on. Tyler’s phone number.
She glanced at the clock—nine-thirty. And, as luck would have it, it was Saturday night. There was no way he was going to be home. Loss suffused her. Resolutely she knocked it away. Though Blake had been incredibly full of himself, he had made a good point. Life did go on—and it was for the living.
Now she needed to take a first step. All she had to do was gather her courage, dial Tyler’s number and then leave him a message—surely he would be too busy to be answering his phone so late at night.
But tell him what? She wasn’t sorry she’d fired him. He really had been horrible at his job.
Wincing, she could almost hear Carmen’s advice flow through the halls. There is more to life than work.
No, all she had to tell Tyler was…the truth. She simply needed to admit that she, too, had thought there was something special between the two of them. That she, too, had liked going sailing. That she’d liked being with him.
And that she missed him.
And even though their work relationship was over, she didn’t want their personal relationship to be. Heck, they were both mature adults who could overcome personal differences.
Yeah!
Besides, it wasn’t as if he’d loved working at Carnegie. He could find other jobs, jobs far more suited to his skills and capabilities than he’d ever find at the call center.
Yes. That sounded smart. Assured. Confident. Like a woman who knew what she was doing with her life. Who wasn’t frozen in the past and holding tightly to the things that used to be.
The worst thing that could happen was that he would never call her back.
No, the worst thing that could happen would be if she never took a chance. If she never called him and just sat around going to dinner parties and being set up with bank executives.
She picked up the phone. Still standing, she punched in his number. Counted the rings. Waited for his voice mail to click on.
Nearly dropped the phone when she heard his voice.
“Hello? Remy, is that you?”
Shoot! “I’m sorry,” she blurted. “I mean, yes. Hi. I…I didn’t think you’d answer the phone.”
>
To her relief, he sounded amused instead of put off. “Let me get this straight. You’re sorry I answered when you called me?”
Why don’t you just try to insult him a bit more? she told herself. If you try harder, you could even manage to put him down while you’re at it! “No,” she said quickly. “I spoke without thinking. I didn’t mean that.”
“You spoke without thinking, Remy? I find that hard to believe.” His voice was rolling with a mixture of sarcasm and gentle teasing. Warmth, too.
“I guess I deserved that.” When he didn’t reply, she shuffled the phone against her shoulder and weighed her options. She could either move forward and be tough…or continue to live her lies. “I would say I don’t know why I called, but I do. I’m just going to say this. I…I liked our date.”
“I did, too.”
“And while you might find it hard to believe, I never associated our date…our relationship with work.”
“How did you think about us, Remy?”
She thought of them, together, as scary. The way she felt around Tyler made her uncomfortable. Unnerved. Almost bad—because when she was with him she felt pretty and sexy and alive. As if most of her hadn’t died with Mark.
But that wasn’t the right thing to say. It was too honest. “I had a nice time. I enjoyed being with you.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she closed her eyes. What. Was. She. Doing?
“So, was there a reason you called? You know, besides hoping I wouldn’t answer?”
Ooh, his voice was like warm syrup, coating her insides. Making her feel all warm and perfect. “I didn’t call for anything specific. I mean, I guess you were on my mind.”
“Because?”
“I was set up at a party. The guy—he was exactly my type. But it didn’t feel like it. Because…because I had more fun with you.” Oh, it was so time to get off the phone. “Never mind. Listen, I think I’ll just—”
“Are you home now?”
“Yes.” Why does he care?
“I mean—will you be home for a while? Will you be home for the night?”
“Yes.” Doubts set in again. Darn it, she’d probably answered too quickly. She shouldn’t have sounded so eager. She shouldn’t have tried to make a date.
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