Charmed (Contemporary Romance)

by Ines Saint

  “Mrs. Kirkpatrick here likes to pretend she’s a grouch,” Charlene explained.

  “Well, don’t be fooled by Charlene’s sweet twang and dimples — the woman swears like sailor.”

  “I do not! Now, let’s find out about Jamie. We’re not letting her talk.”

  The three women chatted a bit, until Jamie explained she had to go inside and pay. She left them with the promise of meeting them and another parent for coffee next Friday. A little more adult conversation in her life sounded great, especially if the conversations didn’t involve catching up.

  Jamie walked into the reception area, and was greeted by Claire. A tall, blond man at the counter turned around and smiled, and Jamie smiled back. She’d seen him picking up a little boy from kindergarten a few times.

  “I’ll be with you in a moment, Jamie,” Claire said, before taking a credit card from the man’s outstretched hand. “By the way, this is Alex Rhodes. His son Jason is in Michael and Timmy’s class.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Jamie said, and they shook hands.

  “Same here.”

  They were silent while Claire waited on an approval for his credit card. When the machine signaled acceptance, Alex turned her way again. “You know, I don’t know how you manage two five year olds. I’ve got my hands full with just one, part-time.”

  “I actually think two is easier than one because they keep each other entertained. I mean, they argue on a daily basis, but they play together for hours, too.”

  “That makes sense.”

  Nick walked in from the side door of his office and the atmosphere in the office immediately changed, as if it had been infused with new energy.

  He greeted both Jamie and Alex before addressing Jamie, “Are you waiting on Claire?” She nodded. “Then I’ll take care of you over here.” He motioned her over to him.

  “I’m here to pay.” Jamie pulled her check card out of her wallet and handed it to him, wishing she didn’t feel so jittery around him.

  “Do you work near here?” Alex finished signing his credit card slip and turned to Jamie again.

  “Kind of. I work from home, about a fifteen-minute drive from here.”

  “Maybe we can get a cup of coffee sometime, after we drop the kids off. My office is just up the street.”

  “Well, I barely have time to finish my morning cup at home, let alone go out for one,” Jamie replied, noting that both Nick and Claire had momentarily stopped what they were doing.

  “Mornings can be hectic,” Alex agreed and handed Jamie a card. She looked at it and saw he was insurance agent. “Stop by my office some time, we can talk a bit and maybe go out and grab a bite to eat.”

  “Oh, well, thanks, but I already have an insurance agent.” Jamie hoped he’d take the hint and let it go.

  “I’m not trying to sell you insurance.” Alex laughed. A strange sound coming from Claire told her he wasn’t the only one laughing.

  “I know, it’s just I don’t really … do that,” Jamie tried to explain.

  “By ‘that’ I suppose you mean ‘date.’”

  “Right. I don’t date.”

  “Ever?”

  Claire handed Alex his receipt, and Jamie couldn’t wait for him to leave. “Well, at least not for another twelve years, seven months, and … twenty-three days from now. If you’re still around then.” She shrugged and smiled sweetly.

  “Got it. But it was still really nice meeting you. See you soon,” he called to Nick and Claire before leaving.

  Nick got Jamie’s file out of the cabinet, motioned her over to the ATM machine, and swiped her card. “I’m sorry it took me so long to find your file. I was momentarily distracted.” His smile was nothing less than devilish.

  Jamie punched her PIN number and tried to think of something to say that would wipe the smile off his face. “Are you proud of the fact that you were listening in on a private conversation?” she finally asked.

  “Maybe we don’t agree on the definition of private. If I wanted to have a private conversation with someone in public, I’d get close enough so that nobody else could hear.” He leaned over a bit and lowered his voice. Warmth crept up her cheeks and she looked away.

  “Let’s call it personal, then. You shouldn’t listen in or comment on personal conversations. It’s not very professional.” Jamie faced him again, shooting him a triumphant look. It had been obvious during their first meeting that he disliked being called unprofessional.

  He glanced up from jotting something down in her file, and the moment their eyes met an underlying current of something shot straight from her chest to the pit of her stomach. Her body was beginning to exasperate her. She vowed to learn how to get her chemistry under control.

  “Twelve years, seven months, and … how many days?” Claire asked. “Are you serious, sweetie, or is that some new form of rejection?” Jamie wondered if the family-like atmosphere she had liked when she originally chose the school was such a good thing after all.

  But she liked Claire, and so she tried to explain. Plus, she wanted an excuse to step away from Nick and breathe. “Though some people seem to think that single moms are always on the prowl,” she couldn’t help saying. Nick rolled his eyes and turned away. “I strongly believe the last thing my kids need is their only parent taking time and attention away from them to go out on futile dates with a string of … ‘Uncle Bobs’ and ‘Uncle Phils.’ Ugh. How insulting to a child is that? Introducing dead-end dates as Uncle something or other. As if kids can’t figure out they’re not related to the schmuck waiting at the door.”

  No sooner were the words out of Jamie’s mouth than a sharp, painful pang filled her chest. She looked down to hide her surprise. A long-forgotten memory had made its way to the surface of her consciousness. A small, curly-haired boy calling her late husband Uncle Scott … It made sense to her in hindsight, but she couldn’t think it through. It wasn’t the time or place for such a memory. She swallowed hard, looked back up, and forced a smile.

  Nick handed her the receipt. “So, just to get this straight, you’re not on the prowl for futile dates with anyone named Uncle Phil or Uncle Bob?”

  Jamie took her receipt and tried to respond with the same playful tone they’d been using before. “Is this you being meek and unpretentious? ’Cause I’m not buying it.”

  Nick must’ve noticed the change in her because he looked into her eyes and asked, “Hey, are you okay?”

  She forced a smile. “Yes! I’m fine.”

  “Did I say something to upset you?”

  “No, no. I just remembered I have to make a phone call, that’s all.” She left, knowing Nick wasn’t convinced. Crap, would they ever manage a normal conversation?

  • • •

  Two hours later, Michael and Timmy emerged from the dentist’s office grinning as if their teeth really twinkled, and they headed home. Waiting for them had given her time to push dark thoughts as far away as possible.

  The business side of her life was busier than usual, and she was now trying to figure out how she could fit extra working hours into either Saturday or Sunday. She was already working nights after the kids went to sleep.

  Not only did she have orders to fill, but invoices had to be prepared and sent out next week. On top of that, her jewelry box supplier had sent her the wrong jewelry boxes, and the snafu would make her late on a shipment for the first time ever.

  As she neared Autumn Falls, the kids yelled out, “It’s Nick!” as if they’d just seen Iron Man zipping across the sky. In the distance, Jamie saw Nick’s pickup in front of a new coffee shop along the only road into town.

  She unconsciously stepped on the gas pedal when she saw his head disappear under the hood of his pickup, but Michael called her on it. “No, Mommy, you have to slow down. Maybe he needs help.”

  “I ca
n’t help. I don’t know anything about cars,” she said, but already she felt guilty her little boy had caught her being unkind. Her shoulders slumped as she eased up on the gas and signaled a right turn.

  “I can help. Uncle Justin showed me some car stuff.” Timmy jumped up and down on his seat as Jamie maneuvered into the parking lot and slowed to a stop beside Nick’s pickup.

  Lowering the passenger window, Jamie asked, “Is everything okay?” In an instant, Timmy had gotten out of his booster, climbed over the passenger seat, and was wiggling out the window. She grabbed his leg.

  A normally easy-going Nick looked up, lines of aggravation lining his mouth. “Battery’s dead.” He jerked his thumb toward the café. “One of the employees tried to jumpstart it, but it’s shot.”

  The right thing to do was ask, “Do you need a ride?”

  “I was just about to call a friend, but she doesn’t get out of work until five. Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?”

  Realizing this was a good opportunity for her and Nick to finally have normal interaction, she answered, “Not at all. I’m heading over to my mom’s, and your house is on the way.”

  “It’s no trouble!” Michael shouted from the backseat.

  “See?” Jamie laughed.

  “Hey buddy.” Nick turned to Timmy, who’d managed to slip away from Jamie’s grip. “Can you help me grab some things and put them in your mom’s car?”

  “I want to help too.” Michael quickly unfastened his seatbelt, and tried to open his door.

  “Nick, can you get his door? Child locks — ”

  “Wow!” Timmy exclaimed, holding a hockey stick that was almost twice his size.

  “I’ll take that.” Nick winked.

  “You’re bringing your hockey stick?” Jamie asked.

  “Of course! This is my lucky stick, and someone might try to steal it.” He looked at her as if she was crazy for asking, and Jamie had to laugh.

  “V-8,” Michael read off Nick’s pickup. “Mom says that’s not good for the en-vi-or-ment.”

  “Well, she’s right. We should all probably listen to your mom.”

  “Leather seats,” Timmy remarked seconds later. “Mom told Uncle Justin that only mean people sit on animal carcasses.”

  “I don’t remember saying that!” Jamie exclaimed.

  “She didn’t say that,” Michael chimed in. “She said only heartless people sit on animal carcasses.”

  So much for normal interaction. “I don’t have anything against leather seats.”

  “Of course not. Everyone refers to leather as animal carcass.” Nick grinned.

  As she backed out of the parking lot she said, “You know … you guys don’t have to repeat everything you hear me say.”

  “How do we know what we can say?” Michael grumbled.

  “We’ll talk about it later, for about the hundredth time.”

  Both boys groaned. Loudly. Seconds later, Michael asked, “Can I say that Nick’s car smelled really, really good?”

  “Of course you can.”

  “Nick, your car smells really good,” Michael said.

  Nick laughed and stole a quick glance at Jamie. “It’s the leather.”

  Jamie bit her lip.

  “I want animal carcass seats in my car when I grow up,” Timmy declared.

  “Okay, you know what? Let’s not say the word carcass again.”

  “Why don’t we listen to some music?” Nick suggested. When Jamie nodded, he turned the radio on.

  A new song she didn’t know came on and she tapped her fingers along to the beat while enjoying the scenery. Autumn Falls was a five-minute ride down a winding, narrow road lined with beautiful maple, birch, and beech trees on either side. A few leaves were beginning to turn, and soon the fall season would transform the trees into a fiery palette of blazing golds, reds, and oranges.

  “Satisfaction” by The Rolling Stones came on, and Jamie began softly singing the lyrics. Nick looked back, smiling, and Jamie peeked at the kids through the rear-view mirror. Timmy was banging air drums while Michael played air guitar.

  “Mom, why aren’t you rocking out?” Timmy interrupted her temporary peaceful mood.

  “Because I’m driving.”

  “That never stops you!” Michael said.

  Timmy reached forward and pulled Jamie’s hair out of her ponytail. “There, now you can rock out.”

  “I’d rather not rock out today. I have to keep my eyes on the road.”

  “But Mom, you really like this song,” Michael pleaded. “We’ve got the drums and the guitar, and there aren’t any other cars on the road.”

  “That’s right.” Nick looked over at her. “It’s not like there are other cars on the road.”

  Jamie shot him a look, and he glanced back at her innocently. “I’m just saying — I see no reason for you not to perform.”

  “Really, you see no reason why I’d be reluctant to perform?

  “None at all.” Nick shot her an adorable and wicked look.

  “Well, you know, I might be persuaded to perform if you help out with the vocals. But only if you know every single word and you sing really, really loud,” she bluffed.

  “Do you think I won’t know every single word? Or do you think I won’t sing in front of you?”

  Jamie shrugged.

  A moment later, the chorus came on, and he began singing. Every word. And he wasn’t making a fool of himself — he was good.

  Timmy and Michael cheered and really got into their own performances, singing along, mostly fumbling the words. They stopped at a red light. Nick looked at her expectantly, daring her to keep her side of the bargain.

  “Nick won, Mom, now you have to rock out,” Timmy called.

  “It wasn’t a contest.”

  “But he won!” Michael cheered.

  Jamie shook her head, laughed, and gave in. She began singing along, just as loud as Nick. Moments later, she began dancing in her seat and whirling her hair around. The one thing she could never resist was making her children laugh. Nick looked over at her, his eyes bright, his smile genuine.

  The light turned green, and Jamie swept her hair out of her face. She continued to sing along with them as the car zipped down Old Meadow Road. The tight coil in her chest was slowly unwinding.

  They passed her house, and Nick turned around to get a better look. “What are those pieces of wood in the backyard?”

  “The swing set our darn Uncle Justin won’t find time to put together,” Timmy answered.

  “Timmy, you know better than to repeat that.”

  A minute later they were about to turn into Nick’s driveway, but something didn’t feel right. It seemed ridiculous to leave Nick stranded in his home without a car. Anyone else would undoubtedly see him through his predicament. “If you want, we can take you to buy a new battery. The store’s only a few minutes away, and your car is less than ten minutes away.”

  Nick looked over at her, surprised. The idea that he’d again think she was coming onto him popped into her head, but she pushed it away, feeling certain her offer was just the natural thing to do.

  Nevertheless, she caught herself biting the inside of her cheek. Nick responded with an, “Uh, yes. If you’re sure you don’t mind. I’d really appreciate it.”

  “Can you leave me at Grandma and Grandpa’s?” Michael requested. “I’m tired. I don’t want to go to a store.”

  Jamie glanced back through the rear-view mirror at a pouting Michael. “Me too.” Timmy yawned.

  Okay, she hadn’t expected this. She didn’t want to be left alone with Nick. “Your parents’ house is on the way. Will they mind?” Nick asked.

  Jamie smiled at that, allowing her to relieve some of her anxiety. Her parents were constantly badgering her
to leave the kids with them more often so she could go get a social life.

  When they pulled up to her parents’ house, her mother was outside, and the kids ran into her arms. Jamie asked if she could watch the kids, explaining Nick’s predicament.

  “Yes, this is great!” Isabella clapped her hands together. She must’ve realized she was being way too enthusiastic because she added, “I mean, I’ll have the kids all to myself — your father won’t be home till five.” She then hugged Nick, and inquired after Emma and the school. It was obvious to Jamie that her mother was excited because she was talking fast, her New York accent was creeping in, and she was gesturing a lot.

  Somehow, they’d ended up at the kitchen table having a snack with the kids and her mom, even though they’d both refused, twice. It was twenty minutes before they were able to get away.

  After Isabella’s high-energy, non-stop chattering, the ride to Brooks Hardware Emporium was relatively quiet.

  “So, who else do you listen to, besides The Stones?” Nick asked.

  “Let’s see.” She clicked her tongue. “I like Springsteen, Sheryl Crow, Aerosmith, Lenny Kravitz, B.B. King … and probably too many to name.”

  “Well, Mrs. Sullivan, I’m impressed.”

  “What’s on your playlist, Dr. Grey?”

  Nick shifted in his seat to get the iPod he’d grabbed from his car out of his pocket. His head tilted toward her, and she caught the scent of his shampoo. It was very masculine, and it had an immediate effect on her breathing.

  He went through his playlist while Jamie nodded her approval. He seemed to be into folk rock and classic rock and … “Elton John?”

  “What’s wrong with Elton John?”

  “Nothing! I like Sir Elton, it’s just — you don’t seem like the Elton John-type.”

  “Really? What type am I, then?”

  “I don’t know, you have a doctorate — aren’t you supposed to listen to classical music and opera while you look down your nose at popular culture? But then, you’re also a savage hockey brute, so maybe some hard core, very angry heavy metal?”

  Nick laughed. “Let’s just say I like all kinds of music, as long as it makes me feel something.”