Brian picked up his own cards and started arranging them.
“I think Jack deserves an apology, Brian,” Celia said.
“Ah, it’s not worth it, Cee,” Jack told her, his voice more even. “I’m done for tonight.” He rose and gave Celia an expectant look.
She set down her hand and also rose. “Until tonight, I’ve never known you to be ungracious, Brian.” She grabbed her purse and accompanied Jack to the door.
The door didn’t actually slam shut, but the sound of it closing echoed through a room grown quite still. Lacey continued to stare at the door, not believing the outburst she’d just witnessed.
The cheesecake and cherries warred inside her stomach, though her conscience suggested the pain was more from the aftermath of messing with others’ lives. If she hadn’t given Jack the pep talk, perhaps he wouldn’t have caught on to the game so quickly and helped Celia win. If they’d continued to lose, Jack and Celia would have left frustrated but not angry. Celia wouldn’t have poked Brian, and Brian wouldn’t have…Oh, phooey! They were all to blame.
She rubbed her temples. She needed to clean up and get home to bed. She’d told Celia it was too soon to flaunt Jack at Brian. Just like the week before, they succeeded in getting Brian’s attention but in all the wrong ways.
As much as she wanted to throttle her brother, she realized he was a man backed into a corner in his own home, which still didn’t excuse his behavior.
“Damn! Why can’t it just be over? Why does she keep coming back into my life?” His voice snapped with torment.
Lacey wanted to say, “Because she still loves you, you dimwit!” But instead, she simply replied, “Maybe because she really hasn’t left.”
****
Jack waited until he and Celia were inside his car to detonate. “Consider this charade over!”
“You can’t back out now, Jack. You still have two weeks to go.” She smoothed her slacks and attempted to settle into her seat. “I’m sorry Brian was so brusque, but his attitude means our plan is working. I think we made progress.”
“Progress?” Jack nearly shrieked, his hand arrested over the ignition. “By what stretch of the imagination would you call tonight’s fiasco progress?”
Celia sat up straighter. “Brian hardly spoke to me or looked my direction all evening, which translates to I still matter to him.”
“Never speaking to you again would testify to his undying love?”
“Don’t be trite. Once you and I started winning, Brian was beside himself with jealousy.”
“Do you need an eye exam? What you saw was a guy who can’t take the heat of competition.”
Celia fluffed her hair. “Right. Competition from you for me.”
“Ugh!” He threw his hands up in the air, sighed and started the car. The sooner he brought this evening to a close, the better.
They drove several blocks before he was able to frame the words he wanted to say. “The way you’re rubbing Brian’s nose in our supposed relationship, hinting, no, downright boasting that you’re much better off with me than you ever were with him, is the wrong approach.”
Celia turned her head to the window, purportedly watching the lights of the city go by. But she seemed to be listening.
“I said yes to this plan because I liked you and wanted to help.” And I needed something to take my mind off Lacey, which is working so well. God, he’d nearly kissed the woman earlier in the day. Who knew if it would have stopped there? He’d almost admitted as much to her tonight when she apologized for initiating the lip lock. “Our dating seems to be making the guy more resolute in his decision to break things off.”
There. He’d said his piece. It didn’t make the gnawing sensation in his gut go away, but his breathing relaxed.
Celia took several deep gulps before the sniffles began.
He pulled up at her apartment complex and waited for her to make a move. She continued to sit there, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue she’d retrieved from her purse.
“I’ll walk you to the door.”
Slowly, she turned to face him. From the shard of light streaking through the car windows from the streetlight, he could see her eyes were still misty. She blew her nose and rolled her shoulders. “Could we talk first?” Her tone was meek.
“Depends. Are you ready to call our so-called relationship quits?”
“I’m ready to discuss a different strategy.”
He collapsed his shoulders, released a few choice oaths under his breath. “Celia! Have you not heard any of what I’ve been saying?”
“Yes, Jack. You’re right. Tonight wasn’t the best tactic. Being back in his apartment reminded me of what I no longer had. I didn’t behave so well myself.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
Shrugging, she said, “I don’t know. What an admission. Celia the Planner, out of ideas.”
“Good! First smart thing you’ve said in some time.”
She put aside the tissue. “What should I do?”
“I know what you shouldn’t do. You’ve been charging through this get-Brian-jealous plan like a herd of elephants going through a turnstile. The heavy-handedness has only served to rile him, not make him jealous.”
She sighed. “Not very smart, huh?”
He nodded. “Since this routine of hunting him down in his haunts and flaunting our relationship at every opportunity isn’t working, maybe you should go the opposite direction.”
“Like in hide out from him?”
“More or less. You’ve been in his face at every turn. You haven’t given him an opportunity to miss you.”
“You’re right,” she said to herself, as if she’d forgotten he was there. “He has to miss me. Realize what he’s given up.”
Jack watched, fascinated, as she processed this new line of thinking, fearing he’d just let a pyromaniac into a dynamite shed.
She gathered her purse and opened the car door. “Thanks, Jack. For talking me down, and for the idea. See you tomorrow.” And she was off, reanimated.
“But…what about ending our deal?” Jack asked the air.
Chapter Thirteen
“We need to talk.”
Lacey emerged from perusing her Collier notes to find Jack leaning against the door to her office. Talk some more about the kiss? She thought her apology the night before had sufficed. Apparently not.
“I want to hear about your meeting with that hippie woman.”
Oh. Her interview of Janice. Much better. “I emailed my notes to you last night.”
“Right. Along with a rough outline for our design concept.” He held out a blue folder. Jean’s efficiency had struck again.
“I know, I know. I did this independently without consulting or informing you.”
He raised both eyebrows.
“Go ahead, say it. If the reverse had been the case, I would have been raving mad at you by now. But I got going and couldn’t stop. I’m starting to understand why you did those sketches. You seem to process your thoughts through pictures.”
“Guess so. Interesting observation.” He flopped into her one and only visitor chair, flipped through the plan, probably for effect. “Not bad. Takes us in a different direction, but I like it.”
“Really? Thanks.”
“Would’ve said so last night, but my, uh, mind was elsewhere. Sorry I left in such a huff, but your brother is a real…”
“Poor host at times,” she said, avoiding the use of a more derogative term.
He crossed one knee over the other. “Have to say, the Collier woman threw you some real tidbits. For instance, boomers don’t want to retire. Could’ve fooled me.”
“They still want to retire, just not in the classical sense like their parents did. Boomers see retirement as a higher level of existence, a time to reinvent themselves beyond the work world. They want to live meaningful lives, not just sit around and idle their days away until they die as a reward for surviving thirty-some years of work.”
&n
bsp; “Heck, might as well plant them in the wilderness and let them dig their way out, if they want meaning in their lives.” He laughed at his joke. When he noted she didn’t join him, he caught himself up short. “Sorry. I wasn’t belittling your ideas. You’ve spun a great theory.”
“How do we translate this theory to a design concept?”
Shrugging, he offered, “Put something down on paper, I guess.”
“Like what?” The idea had been so clear in her mind five minutes ago. Then he’d walked in and her vision blurred. Using Celia as her shield against Jack’s appeal wasn’t working. Why did he have to track her down in her tiny office? He was sitting less than two feet away. Too close for comfort. Her beating heart was on overload, which was nothing compared to the tightening of the muscles in her lower parts. “Other than a monastery, what would a place where people sought meaning for their lives look like?”
“Got a notepad?”
She tossed him one along with a pencil. Keep him busy while she got her shameless body under control.
He played around with several sketches before dropping the pad back on her desk, stood and shook out his shoulders. “This office is too confining. How do you ever produce anything?”
“I haven’t known anything better, until I started working with you and learned how the top echelon lives.”
He ambled over to her window and stared out aimlessly. “Some view they gave you. Bet you get a lot of kick-ass ideas from gazing out at the parking lot.”
She chuckled. “Which is why my desk is over here.”
He stalked back to his chair and collapsed into it, crossing his arms and sucking in his lips. After a bit, he thunked his forehead. “You know what I saw while I was over there admiring that asphalt ocean?”
She waited for the brainstorm she sensed was on its way.
“It’s a beautiful day.” He sat back smugly and eyed her as if expecting her to sing praises of his great revelation. When she didn’t, he went on. “Let’s go enjoy it. How about a ride in the country?”
In the country? “To the Project Veronica property? Didn’t we suffer enough out there last week?”
“I need to see it again, get the lay of the land, crank up my creative juices. Want to go along? We can run out there for a couple hours. Grab some fast food. Picnic on the grass. It should be dry today,” he said, looking down at his shoes, then grinning again.
The idea was staggering. Suddenly she could barely breathe. Could she trust herself to be alone with him out in the middle of nowhere? “Okay, sounds like a great idea, but we’ve got to use our time wisely.”
“What could be more inspiring than plopping ourselves down in the midst of the property?”
****
An hour later, reclined on a blanket snatched from the trunk of his car, Jack sucked up rays from a friendly sun. Filled with fried chicken and potato salad, he was a contented man. So they were still struggling to develop the project concept, and he didn’t know why he hadn’t been named the firm’s principal yet, and he’d committed the next few weeks to someone who’d turned into a wild woman in her quest to regain her boyfriend, right now, life was good. He plucked a sheath of some kind of weed and crushed it between his fingers.
Across the blanket, Lacey occupied herself packing up food containers and stuffing them into an oversized garbage bag. She looked as yummy as any candy store concoction in the pink knit top she wore. And they hadn’t had dessert yet.
He focused on the creamy shoulder escaping the neckline. So innocent, and yet so inviting. His imagination ran rampant imagining the safari his lips would take, starting there and meandering upward along her regal neck. Just the thought of attacking the earlobe buried underneath those flaxen curls made his blood run faster.
Great. He’d transformed from lunch companion to turned-on male.
“Jack?” Lacey’s gaze was watchful. “Is the sun getting to you? You seemed miles away.” She stared at him, her head tilted slightly, the sun’s rays streaming through her hair like golden splinters, her face flushed. From the exertion of cleaning up? Or did she sense his crotch waking up?
For one moment, he considered letting her know. Hell, out here in this grassy meadow, far enough from the road where no one could see them, who knew where it could lead?
“Ready?”
Was he ever! Then, like the day before, his better judgment reappeared. They were here on a mission. A work-related mission. Lacey believed he was seeing Celia, her best friend. Technically, he’d ended his agreement with Celia last night, although he wasn’t sure Celia had heard him. Lacey was certainly unaware of the change. So, no messing around.
He took several deep breaths to alleviate his physical dilemma. When those efforts didn’t help, he subtly rolled away from the blanket and stood, pulling it up with him, presumably to fold the thing. For the next five minutes. “We’ll get started as soon as I take this stuff to the car.”
Task completed, he gave himself a mental buck-up lecture. He studied the landscape and tried to envision what he’d put there. Designing buildings was his second favorite thing. Today, Number Two would have to suffice.
Lacey was staring vacantly toward the horizon when he rejoined her. “What’s up? Inspiration calling?”
She grimaced. “I was trying to empty my brain and simply let the spirit sweep over me. But so far, no go. How do you do it?”
A putdown? Nah, she was serious. “Same way you were attempting, more or less. I find a place to stand and take in the canvas before me. Focus on the totality of the scene, then let the landmarks populate it, one by one. The landmarks are the key.”
She brought a hand up to frame her eyes and scope out the view before her. “The rise over there? When we were here before, I noticed a stand of oak trees surrounding it. Think we could incorporate them into our plans?”
“We can do whatever we like, if it makes sense. Want to check it out?”
Despite the steep incline, they headed off to inspect the hillock.
He hadn’t paid the trees much attention when they were here before. Too busy extricating himself from under the tree trunk. But Lacey spotted them. Good eye. Anxious to see what was on the other side, he kept his impatience in check and walked alongside her companionably.
Once, when he glanced over at her, he caught her gazing up at him. She returned a broad smile, like there was nothing else she’d rather be doing. “This is fun, Jack. For a few hours I’ve been able to relax and my stomach has stopped churning at the threat of our deadline. I’m glad you thought of coming here.”
A bubble of satisfaction bloomed inside his chest. He tried not to appear too pleased. “You’ve been having stomach problems too? Thought I was the only one feasting on antacid tablets.”
When they arrived at the foot of the hill, he took her hand and helped her pick her way up. The side of the hill was covered with wildflowers. As Lacey and Jack passed through them, their movement set off a shower of fragrances. If he’d been a kid, he would have been tempted to stop midway up and roll down the scent-filled blanket.
Lacey slowed her pace as they neared the top.
“Tired? We’re almost there.”
“No. Just enjoying the trek. And the view.”
Until then, he’d forged straight ahead, but her comment made him check for himself. She was right. Up higher, the property took on a whole new perspective. Much more rolling than it appeared at their picnic site, which could present a few more architectural challenges than a flatter landscape but would also add to the ambience. Homebuyers loved those things.
They reached the summit a few minutes later, both slightly breathless but also invigorated by the trip.
Jack scanned the periphery. “I should’ve brought my camera. There’s more here than I thought. Sketches won’t do it justice.”
The slope was less steep on the other side, the descent more gradual. A couple small plateaus dotted with trees cut into the side about a fourth of the way and halfway up.
&nb
sp; “Maybe Cam and our client are really on to something with this place. Even though it’s so far from town.”
“I suppose we could follow through on Cam’s suggestion to build a mini-town out here?” Jack could hardly believe his words, but the place was starting to get to him.
“I hope we can keep the creek down there. It lends a certain charm to the property.”
“Sure, if the experts say it’s safe.”
“I wonder if there are other water sources on the property. Did you check the aquifer reports?”
He started to answer, but before she could hear him, she took off, scanning the ground for something. She toed a couple logs. He hoped they weren’t home to any field creatures. She bent and picked up what appeared be a slender, forked stick. Fortunately, no wildlife struck back at her.
She set off down the slope, extending the switch in front of her at arms’ length. She’d go a few feet one direction, then turn and head off perpendicularly, only to repeat the pattern a few feet later. When she’d gone about a hundred feet, she stopped abruptly, the stick pointing down.
Was she doing what he thought she was? He’d heard of witching water but never witnessed the process. He caught up with her. “Are you—”
“Do you see any other branches around here, about this size? But not forked.”
He wondered if the country air had messed with her sanity. “You already have a stick.”
“This locates a vein. I need a straight switch to determine its depth.”
He couldn’t get over what he was witnessing. The Internet Princess had reverted to a practice going back to the Middle Ages. Shaking his head in amazement, he bounded off, searched in concentric circles, but came up short.
“Sorry.” Jack returned empty-handed. “Nothing. How long have you been witching for water?”
She beamed a hundred-watt smile. “Picked it up from my grandpa when I was a kid. It’s supposed to be handed down through generations. My mom couldn’t get the hang of it, so my grandpa took me out with him when he’d witch for neighbors. I was a natural. He died before I could get the hang of it from him, so I taught myself.”
Saved by the Salsa Page 13