“Grrr,” said Roman. Elwood seemed to grin at him before he snuffed the grass.
New job. Dog watcher.
Elwood’s not growling. Revel in the fact, Keller.
He heard Jan’s laugh coming from inside the house.
Nothing funny about this situation.
You hypocrite.
“What?” Roman fairly snarled, then glanced in belated embarrassment at the truck driver and the dog. Clearly neither the man nor Elwood had spoken.
You’re a hypocrite, Roman Keller. Why didn’t you tell her about your two visits to the mayor? Does she know you raked up the dirty little secrets of her youth and unearthed Frank’s tawdry past?
She knows I did all that. She’s got me figured out.
Meaning she realizes you aren’t trustable.
I could be, if she asked me.
It’s against your nature. You say that yourself.
I want her to trust me.
You don’t trust her.
I do. I could. Maybe.
Jan appeared at the doorway, looking frazzled. “Roman, if you’ll take Elly for a fifteen minute walk, we’ll be ready to bring in the furniture.”
He dragged the reluctant dog up to the stoop, drawing close enough to Jan so he could see the sweat on her upper lip. “Bella’s got you on the run, huh?”
Jan leaned his way and said, “Way too many chiefs.” She showed a sliver of space between her thumb and index finger. “It’s this far away from not being my living room.”
Roman recognized a hint of vulnerability in her voice. “Stand firm, Jazz. This is your chance to make a house yours.”
She smiled, her arms angling toward him as if she wanted to hug him for his advice.
Frank appeared behind her, looming like a nosy chaperone. He dismissed Roman with a glance. “Janny, I still think you should rethink the couch placement.”
“No,” Jan said. “I like it the way it is.” She winked at Roman.
Tugging the reluctant dog behind him, Roman walked away, thinking he’d give anything to make Jan trust him. Anything.
Chapter Eighteen
“Rainbows come with rain.” Bella tossed a package of picture hangers up in the air as she waited for Jan to reveal the first portrait they’d place on the dining room wall.
“What?” asked Jan, half-listening. She held up a big Peña painting of an ancient Native American man, his face as weathered and deeply carved as the red-rock mountains in the picture’s background.
“I’m so glad we left the boys at my house to clean up after dinner,” Bella said. “This unveiling will be special for the two of us.”
Jan turned the picture to Bella, who gasped with joy.
“It killed me not to look at them,” Bella admitted as she stood against Jan’s bare living room wall. “I brought them from the bedroom, but kept the fronts away from me so I’d be surprised.” She took the portrait from Jan and placed it against the wall. “They’ll finish the room perfectly.” She drew her tiny body to full height, pushing the portrait higher. “And we’re not allowed to go to bed until the living and dining rooms are completely decorated.”
“Rainbows and rain?” Jan repeated as she arranged pictures on the floor.
Bella leaned a portrait against the wall and turned to face Jan, clearing her throat. “Dolly Parton said it. ‘If you’re looking for rainbows, you better expect some rain.’”
Jan squinted at her, feeling criticized. “You think I can’t handle rain?”
With a chuckle, Bella said, “I was talking about myself. Missing Sidney, feeling so lonely. Then you came along, dragging Roman and the General.” She winked. “Even Frank, my interior design pal.” Cocking her head to judge the furnished living room, she added, “And this project.”
“Rain and rainbows?” Jan summed up.
“Yes. Look for one. Expect the other.”
Jan let out a sigh. “I avoid rain.”
Hoisting a hammer as if she were considering its weight, Bella said. “Beat feet for the desert, hmm?”
Wincing, Jan thought of her packed bags and Palm Springs.
Bella gripped the hammer. “Gosh all fishhooks. I sound just like Sidney, or Roman, for that matter. Don’t mind me, honey. I was getting used to having you and Roman around, but I feel a storm brewing, a big one. Guess I was recalling Dolly’s words to prepare myself.”
“A storm between Roman and me?”
With a nod, Bella said, “He’s been quiet since you two returned from the Mission. He watches you so intently.”
To cover her uneasiness, Jan picked up a small portrait of a boy whose face registered abject wonder. What was the child seeing?
Bella forged on. “And you’re avoiding him. I can understand why, somewhat, because Frank’s been around, but you’re out and out ignoring my grandson. Something happened while you were in downtown SLO. I’m not going to ask what tipped your scale against Roman.” She shrugged, her BEDAZZLED T-shirt glittering with each movement. “I’m letting you know I expect rain with my rainbows.” Bella tapped the hammer in her palm. “Hope you do too.”
Seeking solace, Jan turned her back on Bella to survey the new living room arrangement. She liked how the enormous sisal rug grounded her double couch setting. In another corner, leather chairs in warm rusts and browns invited her to sit down, put up her feet on the ottoman and relax. Bella had arranged table lighting and floor lamps strategically, making every part of the room worth a visit.
The last time Jan remembered being so happy to live in a space was her college apartment, where with little money, begging, and borrowing, she’d made the space her own. Bricks and boards for bookshelves. An old door set on concrete bricks served as her couch. Lots of cushions on the door-sofa had made the seating bearable, but only if you sat quietly, primly. Her makeshift couch had turned out to be the perfect chaperone: when necking with a boyfriend got too intense, the door rocked on the bricks, threatening collapse. Tended to send boys home early.
Jan gazed at her comfy sofas and realized she’d created a necking haven. She shook her head, amused at the irony.
“You’re not happy with our work, honey?” Bella called out.
Smiling, Jan turned to her. “I love it, Bella. It’s a rainbow.”
“Was I wrong about the bad weather brewing between you and Roman?”
Jan handed Bella the small picture. Without words, Bella hoisted the portrait against the wall where both of them could appreciate the art. Wishing relationships were as easy to frame, Jan considered Bella’s question. No storms swirled around Frank. Why wasn’t she attracted to a life with him anymore? She should be.
Instead she kept getting in deeper with Roman the tornado.
Run for cover.
Jan hated to hurt Bella, but the woman would see right through a lie. “It’s going to be a bad blow, Bella. Batten down the hatches.”
****
Roman’s conflict with Frank simmered during dinner at Bella’s. When Bella, her sister, and Jan were present, talk was polite. Proper topics: The weather, home decorating, golf, Sidney’s memorial. Everyone contributed, commiserated in the right places and laughed at the appropriate times.
But as soon as Bella’s sister went off to visit a friend and Bella and Jan left for Jan’s house, the three men hit the kitchen to clean up and conversation stopped. Roman figured the General was tired, maybe worried about Jan’s safety. Frank? Clearly, the guy was working out a strategy to reconcile with Jan, by ingratiating himself with Bella, the General, and Jan.
Fine. Take her.
As Roman put the last of the dishes away and Frank scrubbed the sink, the General dried his hands on a dishtowel and flipped on the History Channel. Roman sank into a chair in front of the TV, irritated by Frank and seething over Jan’s subterfuge with Tess. But what bugged him most was his own hypocrisy. How did he figure his covert behavior was justified and hers wasn’t?
The TV narrator droned on about Andy Warhol, Campbell Soup cans filling the
screen.
Frank took a seat next to Roman. The General, standing between their chairs, commented, “Never did like modern art.”
“I agree,” said Frank. “Give me a realistic landscape any day. Jan and I hate Warhol’s stuff.”
Roman thought about Jan’s portraits, the ones he’d pulled out of her spare room closet. Last night, while she slept, he’d set them up on the perimeter of the room, thinking the pictures would help him understand her. Simple research. No harm.
Warhol’s depiction of Marilyn Monroe took over the TV screen. Jan would like the joy and innocence in Monroe’s expression.
“You have no idea what Jan likes,” Roman blurted.
“Wha…?” Frank responded, looking shocked.
Roman caught an expression of interest from the General and forged ahead. “Jan and Bella are hanging fifteen portraits in her home as we speak.”
Frank shifted uneasily in his chair. “Portraits? Really?”
John Wayne’s face dominated the TV screen, seeming to add swagger to Roman’s argument. “Have you seen them? Her pictures, I mean.”
“No. Why?” Frank asked, turning the sound down on the TV.
“Has she ever bought a painting and hung it in your Seattle condo?” Roman said, emphasizing your.
Frank had the grace to think a moment. “No. She likes mine.”
Marilyn Monroe’s face, painfully naïve and so beautiful, flashed on the screen again, as if to underline Roman’s point. “She might not mind yours, I grant you. She probably doesn’t like them, however. There’s not a landscape among her fifteen.”
“Oh?” he inquired, seeming surprised.
Roman closed his eyes, remembering the paintings. “She’s attracted by bold color and brush strokes. People’s faces, old and young please her.” He pointed to the TV. “More detail than Warhol. Actually more surreal than Warhol’s.” He smiled at the TV. “But she’d hang a Warhol. Happily.”
The General inclined his head, which Roman took as agreement.
Frank looked puzzled, probably wondering how he’d suddenly lost favor with the General.
“Ask her,” Roman said. He chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” Frank asked, eyeing the General as if hoping for backup.
Roman settled in his chair, surprised by his vengefulness. All his disappointment in Jan and confusion about his own behavior, welled up to throw Frank’s way. It was wrong, but he wanted to hurt Frank, make him pay for how he’d conned Jan twelve years ago. A boss, fifteen years her senior, bedding a green employee, then shackling her by obligation instead of love. Damn him.
But Frank was also Jan’s friend. Roman couldn’t bear to think of her sleeping with the man, but at least he could honor their years together. Loyalty. Jan had accused Roman of having no loyalty to people, willing to skewer anyone and everyone. What would she say about his new personality disorder: backing Jan to the hilt, even while they lied to one another.
Chapter Nineteen
When Bella went home, saying she’d send Roman over, Jan left the front door open and stood at her entryway, gazing at her new living and dining room, seeing it as a newcomer would.
She wasn’t surprised when she felt his arms encircle her waist and his chin rest on her shoulder. Jan knew he was surveying the rooms, researching with his eyes. She didn’t have to ask for his opinion. It would come soon enough. Honest. Detailed.
Funny. She was sure he’d approve of what she’d done with her furniture, her colors and lighting picks and her art displays. How could she know what he liked?
The colors he chose for his clothing, what he said in his documentaries, the way he interviewed people, the manner in which he treated her. All that added up to appreciating a room?
Or liking her.
She had the urge to turn around and kiss him, but fought it, the secret pact she’d made with Tess chilling her spontaneity.
He took her in his arms and danced with her, a slow waltz to a tune he hummed. “You’ll be happy here, Jazz. Warm colors, comfortable furniture, and friendly arrangements. Surrounded by people you love.”
Jan relaxed against his body. “It feels like home. Finally.”
“Want to celebrate with a glass of wine? It’s late, I know, but I’d like you to talk to me about the paintings. Introduce me to your family.”
She smiled, charmed by his request. “And they’d like to meet you, I’m sure.”
Roman bent to pick up his folder and handed it to her. “Why don’t you put this in my bedroom while I pour?”
“I…” She looked down at the folder, wondering why the odd division of labor. With a shrug, she let Elwood in from the back yard, then headed to the spare bedroom to drop off Roman’s work, the dog trotting after her. Elwood sniffed at the closed bedroom door and grumbled as if something were amiss. Jan pressed on the latch but the door didn’t give.
“You locked your door?” she yelled, instantly miffed that he didn’t trust her to stay out of his stuff. She reached on top of the doorjamb for the Allen wrench and jammed it in the keyhole, thinking how silly he was to lock a door when she’d told him where the key was.
She flipped on the bedroom light as she opened the door.
“What in the world!” she shouted, staring at the fully furnished room. Elwood barked, startled by her outburst. The new smells of the room caught his attention so he trotted in, snuffling the unfamiliar objects.
Roman was at her side in a flash, his smile showing her he was in on the surprise. He put his hands on her waist. “No fainting, now,” he warned.
She waved away his concern. “You did this?”
“Not alone. Bella and I sneaked this stuff in while you and Frank were off getting the floor lamp.”
“All this was on the truck and I didn’t know it?”
“Why do you think I was stationed out there all afternoon?”
Jan stepped around Roman and took in the king-sized bed, dark green bed tables and warm brown wardrobe, matching the bed posters and frame. “It’s exactly how I saw it.”
“You described it to Bella. She understands your style, Jazz.”
She bent down to feel the soft rug, its geometric pattern of browns and greens bordered by black. “But I said I wasn’t ready to decorate my bedroom.”
“This isn’t your bedroom. It’s the spare.”
“That’s Bella’s justification?”
Laughing, he said, “Bella will probably claim that since you described what you wanted for the room, it was her job to follow your wishes.”
Jan gazed out the window. “Frank doesn’t know?”
Roman shook his head. “Bella and I wanted to surprise you. We didn’t know how well Frank could keep the secret.” He raised an eyebrow as he glanced at his watch. “I suspect Frank and your dad are all settled in for the night over at Bella’s. Tomorrow is soon enough for them to find out you’ve got a real bed in your house. Finally.” With a hopeful look he added, “I’m holding out for a glass of wine and introductions to portraits before I do some work and hit the sack on my faithful air bed.”
Jan glanced at the hallway, wondering where Roman’s bed, table and computer were.
“It’s all in the closet, Jazz. If you don’t mind, I’ll transfer my junk to your bedroom. You’ll sleep here in the spare tonight.”
“I will? I—”
“No more sleeping on couches, girl,” he interrupted. “Bad for your back. Ask the General.”
She leaned against the doorway, the events of the day pressing down on her. The bed, looking soft and so clean, tantalized her. Why should she struggle to make up a bed on the couch when this one was ready and inviting? A wave of guilt hit her. Roman and Bella had given her this wonderful surprise while Jan was carefully planning a covert meeting with Tess the next day.
Roman looked puzzled, probably wondering why Jan wasn’t more pleased with the new bedroom.
“Sorry. I’m stunned. I don’t think anyone’s ever cooked up such an elaborate and delight
ful surprise for me.” She took Roman’s hand and led him to the living room. “Thank you. I can’t wait to hug Bella tomorrow for all this. And yes. I will sleep in a real bed tonight. Of course.”
“I’ll take that hug now,” Roman said.
“What?”
“A hug. Then the wine. Then meet your portrait family, remember?”
Putting her arms around him, she gave him a squeeze and let him go.
But he hung on.
“Umm,” she said, giving in to the comfort of his embrace, her brain fuzzing with the heady smell of him. She closed her eyes to the sight of her new made-for-necking sofas beckoning, deciding she deserved one kiss. Just one. Standing.
But when she moved her lips to his and his hold on her tightened as they deepened their kiss, her legs failed her altogether. One kiss was definitely not enough. Would she be able to walk to the couch? Maybe he could carry her?
“Jazz.”
“Hm?”
“Are we partners in this Barker thing, or not?”
Feeling returned to her legs instantly and her brain began calculating. If she looked him straight in the eye to answer his question, he’d catch her lying. She spoke to his neck. “Of course we are. I’ve kept you on duty as my bodyguard, haven’t I?” The memory of Tess approaching her in the empty parking garage gave her a shiver.
His mouth to her ear, breath warm but words cool, he said, “We’re going to get Tess to talk with us, right? First on our agenda tomorrow?”
She straightened and turned to make her way to the kitchen, careful not to make eye contact. “After Dad and I handle Grace Weather’s memorial in the morning, I’m taking the dog for a haircut so he looks nice for Sidney’s memorial. Dad will go with me. You get to work on your speeches, uninterrupted.”
Jan grabbed the wine out of the refrigerator, struggling to rearrange her expression to neutral. Out the corner of her eye, she caught Roman’s disappointed look. “Tess won’t talk to us, Roman. Why waste time banging on her door?”
He smiled when she handed him a glass of wine, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. No. Bella was right. A storm was brewing. The trouble was she had no power over weather. Much less over Frank, the Barkers, and critics of Senator Johnson. The least power she had was over Roman Keller.
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