I leaned back in the chair, kicked my feet up on the desk, and smiled triumphantly. “That was fun.”
“I’m impressed.” His admiration was apparent in his expression. “You work well under pressure.”
“That almost makes up for them handing my position to you.” I smiled, amazed that I felt comfortable saying that to him.
The corner of his mouth lifted. “Does that mean we’re finally even?”
I shook my head. “Don’t think you’re getting out of our agreement for lifetime sushi.”
He stepped toward me. “Lifetime, huh?”
My heart pounded as I stared into his eyes. “You didn’t look nervous in there. How did you know I wouldn’t sell you out?”
He reached for my hand, then pulled me to my feet. “Because I know you, buttercup. You’d never do that to me.”
Remembering what Kristen had told me, I frowned. “Would you ever betray me?”
He flinched, as if I’d hurt him. “Of course not.”
I swallowed, deciding to come clean on my worries. “It’s obvious you’re not a one-woman guy, and that’s fine. I just wish you’d admit it.”
He stepped back, raising his hands. “What’s obvious is that you don’t trust me. You’ve never seen me with another woman. So what gives?”
I crossed my arms, wondering how he got off having an attitude. “Well, it’s not like we’re together, together. How do I know how many women you’re seeing?”
His hazel eyes darkened. “Because if you’d gotten to know me at all, you’d know my character. I have never cheated on a girlfriend, and I never would. That I’ve dated only means I haven’t found the right person and had enough respect not to waste either of our time on something that wasn’t headed in the right direction.”
I scoffed. “Then why haven’t I heard that rendition? I’m a big girl. I can handle the truth if you’d fess up.”
He turned his head, then gave me a side-glance. “The truth is that if you believed in me, like I believe in you, then you wouldn’t have doubts.”
A lump moved up my throat. I wanted to believe him. But I’d believed my dad, and every other man who’d come and gone in my life. And all of them had let me down. “You’re asking too much of me.”
“Your trust isn’t something I should have to ask for. You either trust me, or you don’t.” His face clouded, and he shook his head. “And you obviously don’t.”
Knock! Knock! Knock!
The door to my office clicked open, and Sarah’s face peered around the door. She looked up at Ryan, then over to me. “Sorry.” She grimaced. “I thought you were just on the phone.”
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I waved her in. Better to end things now than have my heart splattered to smithereens. “That’s all right. We were finished anyway.”
With one last look at me, Ryan turned, and slipped out of my office.
“Just checking to see if you want to have lunch.” She came in slowly. “But I obviously interrupted something. Do you need more time to, uh, finish up?”
My stomach clenched, and my legs felt weak. I dropped down into my chair. “No, I’m pretty sure I just ended things with Ryan.”
Sarah looked crestfallen. “Why?”
I threw her a look. “Aren’t you the one who told me he was a player?”
She thrust her hands to her chest. “Did you break up with him because of me?”
My stomach rolled. “It’s not like we were even together.”
“You’re confusing me.” She shook her head. “There had to have been something going on between you two, in order for you to put a stop to it.”
“There you go being logical again.” I steepled my hands, bringing them against my mouth. “It just didn’t feel right.”
Although, the way things stood, now felt much worse. . . .
Sarah stepped all the way into the office, and shut the door behind her. “What was the meeting with the partners about? I heard through the grapevine.”
“I’m interviewing for a position with McKenzie of McKenzie, Atkins, Haugan, & Hall this afternoon, and Ed Haugan faxed our partners a copy of my résumé.” I still couldn’t believe Ed had the nerve to do that to me. Why would he go behind Madison’s back like that?
Sarah’s mouth dropped open. “How awful. Are you still going to the interview?”
I played with my bottom lip, then held up my hand. “I should call Madison to confirm we’re still on but, as far as I’m concerned, yes.”
Sarah’s eyes perked open with interest. “Did the partners freak? Serves them right for not promoting you in the first place.”
“Actually,” I started packing up my briefcase, “they offered me a raise.”
Sarah brought her hands to her chest. “What’d you say?”
I smiled, but the satisfaction had faded. “I accepted, but didn’t promise them how long I’d stay.”
Sarah stuck her bottom lip out. “I’d be sad if you left, but I completely support you.”
“I appreciate that.” I finished packing my briefcase, then clipped it shut. “I’d better call Madison to touch base before I head to their office.”
“Good luck.” She popped to her feet, then pulled the door shut as she left.
My office was quiet, but the energy around me spun, making me dizzy. My plan had been Madison McKenzie’s office, but already one of the partners had betrayed me. After my new raise, was it worth the effort to start over at a new firm? Where was Kristen when I needed her?
On the Italian Riviera, I guessed. . . .
Sucking in a breath, I dialed Madison’s number. In less than five minutes, I’d explained the situation, she assured me she’d handle Ed, then she insisted that I come for the interview.
Feeling unsure about everything in my life, I went.
* * *
I strode into the Geoffries hotel Friday night, heels clicking across the marble lobby. I’d dressed up for girls’ night out, wearing my black pants, and a silky blue top. I’d gotten a raise, I’d been offered a managerial position at McKenzie, Atkins, Haugan, & Hall. My life was finally back on the partner track.
And I’d never been more miserable.
Determined not to ruin the night for my friends, I pasted on a smile, and entered the lounge. I spotted Ginger and Sarah on an elegant couch, and they waved when they saw me. Giving each of them a quick hug, I searched around for a menu. “Has the server been over?”
Ginger and Sarah exchanged a look, then Ginger said, “Our drinks are on the way, but they aren’t coming from the server.”
I blinked several times. “You lost me.”
Sarah twisted her lips to the side. “I ran into Scott Broderick as I was leaving work, and he invited me out for drinks.”
“Really?” My brows shot up since neither of them had ever shown interest in the other.
She waved a hand. “Not like that. Anyway, without thinking I invited him to the lounge.”
We had a man invading girls’ night, but whatever. Not like I’d be much fun, so maybe he would be entertaining, which would take the heat off me. “That’s fine.”
Sarah made a face like she was in pain. “He brought a friend.”
Understanding settled over me, and my eyes widened. “Which friend?”
“Hey, Jill.” Scott passed by me, then sat in the plush chair by Ginger’s end of the couch, and handed her a drink.
When a Mojito appeared in front of me, my lashes lifted to see who’d delivered it.
Ryan’s eyes sparkled as he set my drink down on the table, then kissed me on the cheek. “Hi, buttercup. You look beautiful, as always.”
Turning away from him, I threw Sarah my best smoldering look. “Can I speak to you alone for a minute?”
She shook her head, then lifted her drink. “Now’s not a good time. I’m really thirsty.”
I watched her turn to listen in on Scott and Ginger’s conversation, which left me with nobody at my end of the couch, except for Ryan.
&
nbsp; He dropped into the chair next to me. “How was your afternoon?”
“Fine.” I sipped my Mojito, wondering what his angle was. I’d all but dumped him, yet here he sat, dedication written in those beautiful hazel eyes. My eyes narrowed.
On cue, his mouth turned up. “You’re not going to tell me how the interview went? After I pretended to be your boyfriend? And believe me, you made that a difficult challenge.”
My mouth formed a sarcastic smile. “No, because you’re my boss, and you’d be obligated to tell the partners.”
He sipped his beer, and studied me. “If you were offered the position you wanted, why don’t you look happier?”
I raised my brow. “It might have to do with who crashed my girls’ night.”
“We were invited.” He leaned forward, his forearms on his thighs. “Not everybody hates me the way you do.”
“I don’t hate you.” I played with the black straw in my minty drink. “I just don’t want to date you.”
“Let’s be friends then.” He held his arms out. “Nothing wrong with that, is there?”
“I suppose not.” I stirred the leaves around my drink, thinking it was odd that he’d want to be my friend after all we’d been through. It kind of didn’t make sense.
I sipped my drink, then noticed my protégé flirting with Ginger. And from the way she was giggling, it appeared the feeling might be mutual.
Ginger turned my way, and also tapped Sarah in the arm. “Remember Patti, who teaches that art class?”
“How can we forget?” Sarah smirked.
Ginger threw her a look. “Anyway, Ripple Art Gallery is showing a handful of her paintings tomorrow night and it should be a lot of fun if you all want to go.”
My stomach tightened as her eyes drifted back to Scott. If she invited Scott, that might mean—
“I’d love to go.” Scott immediately turned to Ryan. “You in?”
He eyed me a moment, then he turned back to Scott. “You bet, buddy.”
Sarah turned to me. “We’re in, too. Right, Jill?”
Ginger looked at me, pleading with her eyes.
I threw my hands up. “Yes. I’ll go.”
Ginger squealed, then began telling Scott and Sarah all about the exhibit I’d been strong-armed (via laser eyes) to attend.
Ryan chuckled beside me. “Bob tells me you’re feeding the homeless lunch tomorrow.”
I glanced up at him in surprise. “You’ve talked to Bob?”
He nodded. “You’re not the only one who enjoyed volunteering.”
“You do charity work?” Sarah joined our conversation. “That’s so nice. I’d like to start doing donating my time, as well. I’ve been meaning to for years.”
“You’re welcome to come. We can always use help.” I paused, stunned by how naturally the “we” had come out of my mouth. It would only be my second time serving the homeless, and I already knew in my gut this was my life’s calling.
“Great.” Sarah sipped her Margarita. “I’m free tomorrow.”
Ryan set his empty glass on the table, and smiled. “I’ll be there, too.”
Of course he would. I wanted to ask him how I was supposed to forget about him when he was everywhere I went.
Chapter Twelve
Saturday morning, I stopped by the office to pick up some papers I’d left by my keyboard with articles about the homeless. Sitting in my chair, I reviewed my notes, then decided to give Bob a call to tell him about my plan for Founding Friendships. He was stoked.
“Bob, that’s very generous of you.” I pressed the phone to my ear, wanting to leap from my chair with excitement, but I had a stack of papers on my lap, and I didn’t want to have to pick them up after.
I tipped the Scales of Justice on my desk, and wondered if my life was balanced yet.
“Now, it’s only a one-bedroom unit,” Bob explained. “It hasn’t been used in quite a long time. So, it’ll need cleaning, painting, and probably some minor repairs.”
“Your guest house sounds perfect.” I bit my pinky nail, and forced my mind to the project at hand. The sooner we fixed up his little apartment, the faster we could move someone in there. Tomorrow was Sunday, so I could buy the supplies today then get to work in the morning. “If I buy paint tonight, and we start cleaning after serving breakfast tomorrow, then how long do you think until we can move someone in?”
Bob blew a breath. “It’s only six-hundred square feet, Jill. I think we can have it ready by next weekend. If we have the manpower that is.”
I racked my brain. “I think I can find a few volunteers, and I know Sherri already received some donations.”
“Great, we’ll start tomorrow then.” He sounded delighted. “Thanks for thinking of this. Founding Friendships is sure to make a difference.”
I was pleased by Bob’s generous offer of his guest unit, but felt a tad guilty at the enormous responsibility he was taking on. “Last time, really. Are you sure you understand the liability involved?”
Bob’s laughter flowed through the receiver. “You sure do sound like a lawyer, Jill.”
“I know I’m not your attorney, but I just need to make sure you understand the risks you’re taking.” I threw him an example. “What if the guest slips and falls on your property?”
“Ah, Jill.” Bob chuckled. “I’m sixty-two years old. My spare apartment over the garage has been wasting away for enough years now. To tell you the truth, I’d enjoy the company.”
My heart warmed. “Thank you, Bob. Really. I’ll pick up supplies tonight, and will see you tomorrow.”
After I hung up the phone, I immediately reached for my mouse, and drafted an email to Sherri regarding donations. I also filled her in on the phone call with Bob, assured her I’d pick up the necessary supplies, and told her I’d see her tomorrow morning.
Before turning off my computer, I glanced at my incoming emails. Charles Mansfield? I clicked on that message.
Jill,
Let’s schedule that lunch we talked about. Monday work okay? Ethan will be back and we have something important we’d like to discuss with you. Name the time, and I look forward to seeing you.
Charlie
Lunch with Charlie and Ethan sounded like a treat. We hadn’t been out together in over a month. After checking my calendar, I wrote back that I could squeeze lunch in between eleven-thirty and twelve-thirty, but I had a court appearance at one. I clicked the SEND button, and then checked the clock in the lower right-hand corner of my monitor. Almost noon. I had to hurry to the cul-de-sac because people would be lining up by now.
Grabbing all my papers, I paused at the door. It felt weird being in my office, but not doing any attorney work—especially considering it was the weekend and that’s all I used to do.
* * *
I stood inside Ripple Art Gallery in downtown Sacramento, and admired Patti’s paintings, which were all hanging on the same wall. Ryan was at the bar getting champagne. Even though he said we would just be friends, this felt oddly like a date.
“What do you think?” Patti came up beside me, sipped her wine, and gazed up at her paintings as if she were seeing them for the first time.
I studied the abstract art. They were bold, beautiful, and their patterns had no rhyme or reason. They seemed very Patti. “They’re beautiful.”
“Thanks.” Patti gave me a quick hug. “I’m glad you came to my very first showing. I’d better go make the rounds. Everyone keeps asking about the artist. Later.”
I felt so happy for my new friend. Patti seemed thrilled, and rightly so. She’d had a dream and she’d gone for it. Now her paintings were on display for all to see (and buy). I thought about my own dream to become a partner. I wondered when that would happen and whether or not I’d be as excited as Patti.
“Jill Parnell?” A familiar, annoyingly perky voice rang out. “Is that you?”
I turned around, and cringed. “Hi, Val.”
Valerie gestured to the paintings around her. “Isn’t the exhibi
t out of this world?”
“Yes.” I stepped in the opposite direction, trying for a sly escape. But Val stuck to me like gum on my red heels.
“I couldn’t help but notice you’re here with Ryan.” She cooed as if they were the best of friends. “Are you two dating?”
“No.” I stiffened, hoping she wouldn’t make a play for him right in front of me.
“I came with Troy.” Val fluttered her red nails in the direction of the bar. “He’s getting us a drink.”
“That’s nice.” I nodded, wondering where Ryan was with my drink.
“Troy told me you attended Patti’s art class where he models.” She winked at me. “I’ve gone a time or two myself.”
“How nice.” I sucked in a breath, then glanced around for any of my friends. Spotting Ginger across the room, I excused myself. I strode toward my friend then stopped, seeing she was in a deep conversation with Scott.
Luckily, I spotted Ryan. He headed my way with two full champagne flutes. It must’ve taken him about twenty minutes to get through that line.
Ryan handed me a glass of champagne. “Could we go to the back and talk?”
“Sure.” I frowned when he slipped his hand in mine, but followed him toward the back where it was quieter and slightly more private.
We slipped into the last two vacant chairs.
Ryan turned to me. “How’d it go today? I didn’t see you after they assigned us different stations, and I know you were working on your project.”
“It went better than I could’ve possibly imagined.” My day serving lunch to the homeless felt just as rewarding as last time. I took a breath. “The person we selected for Founding Friendship’s first guest is the very woman who inspired me to create the program.”
Ryan looked truly interested. “Tell me.”
“Her name’s Beth. She’s about my height, a little younger, and has been on the street for six months.” I shook my head as I remembered how gently I’d spoken to Beth, who had looked a little frightened when I approached her.
Ryan put his hand over mine. “I’m proud of you for doing this.”
My stomach warmed at his words, then I went on explaining. “She was abused by her husband for over a year before she left him. She’s still afraid he’s going to find her. We invited her to stay at the apartment, and she was hesitant at first.” My eyes welled up. “Said she didn’t have any money.”
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