Second Act

by Herkness, Nancy

  “Thank you,” he said, his voice rumbling by her ear. “I . . . thank you.”

  She settled back against him, laying her arm over his and tucking her hand there.

  Just a few more hours.

  Chapter 8

  Jessica plodded down the stairs from her bedroom the next morning, a headache wrapped around her temples like a vise. She had dragged herself out of the giant, warm hotel bed when Hugh got up to shower well before dawn. He’d insisted on coming with her in his limo, where they’d nearly made love again. Then she’d stumbled into her own bed for a couple of more hours of sleep. Now she could feel the twinges of soreness in private places that had gotten an unaccustomed workout the day before.

  The smell of coffee drew her like a magnet. She followed the delicious scent into the living room, coming to an abrupt halt when she saw the furniture shoved to the center of the floor and covered with drop cloths. “Aidan?”

  “In the kitchen, big sis. I have scrambled eggs.”

  Jessica groaned at his cheerful voice and trudged into the kitchen. “What’s going on in the living room?”

  “Good morning,” her brother said, standing in front of the stove, dressed in ripped jeans and a bleach-spotted green T-shirt. “Pour yourself a cup of coffee. I’ll tell you after you’ve drunk at least half of it.”

  He knew her well. She followed his instructions without argument, stirring two spoonfuls of sugar into the fragrant brew before she took a large swallow and sat down.

  “You look wiped. Late night?” her brother asked with a teasing glint in his eye. He plunked a plate of eggs in front of her before he sat across from her at the small oak table with his own breakfast.

  “Yeah.” He knew who she’d been with, and she didn’t want to talk about it—or even think about it. “What’s with breakfast? And the living room?” she asked again, tasting the eggs. They were surprisingly good.

  “I got to thinking,” Aidan said. “I’m unemployed and living here rent-free. I should contribute, so I’m going to finish stripping the wallpaper and redo the floor.”

  Jessica raised her eyebrows in surprise and disbelief. “Do you know how?”

  “YouTube,” he said without batting an eye.

  Since she’d used the internet for her home improvement projects as well, she had no grounds on which to object. “I’d appreciate that.” She also wondered where this uncharacteristically constructive urge had come from.

  “Just want to be useful.” His tone was breezy, which made her look at him with suspicion. “Okay, so Hugh might have said something to me yesterday when he was here looking for you.”

  She closed her eyes on a wince at the sound of Hugh’s name. It had been darned hard to say good-bye in the wee hours of the morning. She knew it was just familiarity, but she’d felt so comfortable and safe cradled in his arms.

  “Didn’t go well?” Aidan asked. “I figured since you hadn’t come home, maybe . . .” He shrugged. “Sorry, Jess.”

  “It was . . . fine. But he’s off to film in faraway places, and I’m back to being a hardworking vet. That’s the end of it.”

  Curiosity was written all over Aidan’s face. To his credit, he didn’t pursue it. “Do you have any supplies for the wallpaper stripping?” he asked. “I want to see what I already have to work with.”

  But Jessica couldn’t stop herself. “What did Hugh say to you?”

  Her brother shifted on his chair. “He pointed out that I had some free time and that it was clear you could use a hand. I’d forgotten that he did carpentry to make money before he got famous. He gave me some tips on repairing the floor and the wood trim.”

  And she’d forgotten that Hugh was one of the few people Aidan would listen to. Her brother had always been dazzled by her ex-fiancé’s glamour. The effect was probably even greater now that Hugh was a superstar. She was both grateful to Hugh and embarrassed that he’d seen her shambles of a living room. She hoped Aidan didn’t feel free to ask Hugh for more advice on home renovation just because he now had her ex’s current phone number.

  In truth, she didn’t have much faith that Aidan would finish his do-it-yourself project, but any progress was better than the way the room looked now. “The stripping supplies are in the basement under the steps. You’re great to do this, bro. By the way, the eggs were delicious.” She stood and picked up her empty plate.

  “I’ll do the dishes,” Aidan said. “I know you need to get to work.”

  She gave an exaggerated start. “I don’t know what alien stole my brother and left you in his place, but I’m going to send her a thank-you gift.”

  “Ha-ha.” But he grinned. “What kind of gift would an alien want, anyway?”

  “Depends on where in the universe she’s from.” She set her plate in the sink before coming back to ruffle her brother’s hair. “Don’t let the chemical fumes damage your brain.”

  “So I hear some fancy Manhattan vet checked up on Khonsu and Shaq yesterday,” Carla said, standing in the surgery room doorway while Jessica prepped for her first case. “And I hear some hot movie star swept you away from the Carver Center in a limo.”

  Heat flushed Jessica’s neck and face. “Yeah, Hugh’s an actor, so he believes in making a dramatic exit.”

  Carla walked into the room and peered at Jessica. “Girl, you got a dreamy little smile on your face that tells me he didn’t just give you a lift home.” She held up her hand. “It’s none of my business, though, so you don’t have to tell me any details about where you went or what you did with the hot movie star.”

  Jessica pulled out a fistful of paper towels and focused on drying her hands. “He’s my ex-fiancé. We were engaged for about six months and haven’t seen each other for eight years. So yesterday was just nostalgia.”

  Very physical nostalgia. Her body still hummed with a bone-deep satisfaction. When Hugh’s image drifted into her thoughts, satisfaction changed to anticipation, which would remain a profound, unfulfilled ache. Their farewell at four in the morning had been pretty final, although Hugh had promised to send her tickets for the movie’s premiere next winter. She gave a mental snort. Or he would ask his assistant, Trevor, to send the tickets.

  “You were engaged to Hugh Baker?” Carla’s eyes went wide. “And you never mentioned that?”

  “We haven’t been in contact since I gave back the ring, so it didn’t seem relevant to my current life.” Nor to her future life.

  “What about your friends who want to live vicariously?” Carla said, but her tone was softer. “You can tell me later when you’re not worn out from whatever wore you out.” She winked and sashayed out of the room.

  Jessica couldn’t help smiling. Carla’s sass always lifted her spirits.

  “Here’s your first victim,” Caleb said, carrying in a huge tomcat. “Ready to get denutted.”

  Her surgery schedule was light, mostly spays and neuters, which she could do in her sleep, so she finished up in time to take a full hour for lunch. She was reading a newly arrived veterinary journal with her feet propped on her desk and Geode on her lap when Carla leaned in. “This is your week for good-looking male visitors,” she said. “This one’s blond.” And she was gone.

  Jessica lifted Geode off her thighs and dropped her feet to the floor with a thump, guilt spearing through her as she assumed it was Pete. She hadn’t spared a thought for him since Hugh had awakened her in the storage closet at the Carver Center. She tried to straighten her bun as she heard heavy footsteps coming down the hall.

  But the man who came through the door was a stranger, albeit a striking one. He wore a well-cut tweed jacket and charcoal trousers and held a large vase of vividly hued flowers that could barely compete with his brilliant green eyes. “Dr. Quillen?” he said in a cultured voice. “I’m Will Chase. I’m on the board at the Carver Center and wanted to thank you for your care of Khonsu and Shaq.”

  Jessica stood up to accept the vase he held out. “You didn’t need to bring me flowers for doing my job, but I a
ppreciate their beauty.” She sniffed at a rose and smiled. “They smell a lot better than the sick dogs, too.”

  He smiled back. “Spending the night with them in the basement storage room went above and beyond. Those dogs happen to be important to some kids I am especially fond of, so I wanted to express my gratitude in person.”

  “That’s very kind of you.” She set the flowers on top of one of her filing cabinets, where their extravagance looked out of place among the cheap furniture. She’d put them out in the reception area after he left so they would cheer her clients. Jessica plunked back down on her ergonomic chair. “Have a seat,” she said to her still-standing guest. His manners went with his voice.

  Will eased himself into the rickety chair in front of her desk, crossing his legs in an elegant motion. “I’d like to make a donation to the clinic,” Will said.

  “Seriously, the flowers are enough.” Her clinic wasn’t a nonprofit, so she couldn’t accept donations, anyway.

  He shook his head with a smile. “Would you like me to give it to the Harlem Animal Shelter? I know that’s where most of the K-9 Angelz come from.”

  His relentless refusal to accept no for an answer reminded her of Hugh, although Will Chase covered his obduracy with a veneer of smooth charm.

  “The shelter does great work and they could use the money,” Jessica said. “They would be a worthy recipient.”

  He rose and held out his hand. “Carla says you’re on your lunch hour, so I won’t take up any more of your time, but I had to meet the miracle worker of the K-9 Angelz in person.”

  His grip was firm and warm, exactly what she would expect, given his refined exterior. “No miracles involved, just some metronidazole and IV fluids. Nice to meet you, though.”

  He released her hand with another beguiling smile. “To a layman, that seems miraculous enough. The Carver Center is fortunate to have you.”

  Jessica didn’t have long to wait before Carla strolled into her office. “You know who that is, right?” she asked.

  “A Carver Center board member,” Jessica said.

  “He’s Kyra Dixon’s fiancé. And a billionaire.”

  “No wonder the flowers are so nice,” Jessica said. “Wait, is he the person who started Ceres for Canines, all because Shaq has a sensitive stomach?”

  “Nailed it. You know, if I didn’t like you so much, I’d go work at the Carver Center,” Carla said. “A lot of hot, rich men hang around there. Of course, now they’re starting to hang around here, so I guess I’ll stay.”

  Jessica chuckled and stood to pick up the flowers. “You can put these on the reception counter so everyone can enjoy their beauty.”

  “You know, you’re allowed to keep something for yourself every now and then,” Carla said as she took the vase.

  “I don’t spend enough time in here to hog the flowers.” Jessica glanced at the time on her computer screen. “And we both have to get back to work.”

  However, when she returned to her office after she’d finished her afternoon appointments, a water glass filled with a handful of blossoms sat on her desk. Carla had shared the wealth.

  Jessica dropped into her chair with a smile and pulled out her cell phone to check her text messages. She’d felt a couple of vibrations while she was examining her last patient.

  When she read the names of the senders, she tilted back in her chair and closed her eyes with a groan. One message was from Pete. The other was from Hugh. Seeing their names side by side on her phone made how she’d spent yesterday seem so much worse somehow.

  Leaning forward again, she debated which one to read first, opting for Pete’s. It was bound to be fairly innocuous. Does nine still work for you? it said.

  “Oh my God!” She’d completely forgotten about having drinks with him that evening. She checked the time and flopped back in her chair with relief. She still had three hours before he would be at her door. It had been an easy day, thank goodness.

  Although she was a little worried that her lack of sleep would catch up to her, especially if she had a drink. Light day at the office, she typed. Could you make it at eight? That will get my fairy godmother off my back.

  His response was nearly instantaneous. The sooner, the better. See you at eight.

  Now she had to hurry. She swiped open Hugh’s text and felt her heart lurch in her chest.

  Yesterday was a good day.

  Jessica sat beside Pete on the leather-upholstered banquette in the high-sided booth. His body wasn’t quite touching hers, but she could feel the heat of it. Every now and then, his arm or shoulder brushed against her when he moved. It should have been pleasant, since he smelled clean and healthy and male. But her body still felt imprinted with Hugh’s, so she had to stop herself from shifting away.

  “You’re quiet tonight,” he said. “Tough week?”

  “A couple of the Carver Center’s dogs got a severe case of giardiasis, and trust me, you don’t want the details about that. I was afraid we might lose one of them, so I put him on an IV and spent the night at the center.”

  “I’m guessing you pulled him through.”

  Jessica nodded. “He’s well on the road to recovery now.”

  “Would you rather go home and get some sleep?”

  “No, I need to do something . . . normal.” Instead of spending an entire day in a penthouse suite having sex with a movie star.

  Pete looked a little taken aback. “I’d hoped for ‘fun’ or maybe even ‘pleasurable.’”

  “Sorry, ‘fun’ is a much better description.” She took a sip of the excellent Manhattan she’d ordered. “I’m tired of my work. Tell me about yours.”

  “I suspect the details of my job are right up there with those of giardiasis. It’s just a lot of numbers.”

  She shook her head. “You don’t have to scrub down numbers with rubber gloves and bleach.”

  “That bad?” he said. “Although I was accused of laundering money on one occasion.”

  His sly sense of humor surprised a real laugh out of her. “You made that up.”

  “I was innocent as the driven snow, of course—well, guilty only of some clever, creative accounting—but the accusation was real.”

  “Ouch. Who accused you?”

  “Just a jealous competitor. The SEC never got involved, thank God.” His expression turned serious. “Did you know Aidan has applied for a job at ExDat?”

  “No! I thought he was enjoying a little vacation before he started job hunting.” Actually, it looked like an extended vacation. She frowned into her drink. Pete wasn’t going to ask her if he should hire her brother, was he?

  “The job he’s aiming for is way out of my area,” Pete said, easing her mind. “Aidan would be in the data handling and analysis part of the business, while I’m just a number cruncher. But I don’t want whatever happens with Aidan to affect us.”

  Us. The word made Jessica take a bigger swallow of the Manhattan than she should have. It seemed a little soon to be talking about “us.” Or was she still under Hugh’s influence? Then she thought of Aidan’s propensity for quitting jobs when he got bored. “I’d hate for Aidan to affect our friendship, either,” she said, trying not to emphasize “friendship” too much.

  Relief showed in Pete’s pale blue eyes, so he must not have noticed her use of the word. He covered Jessica’s hand where it lay on the wooden table, his big, square palm heavy on top of her fingers. “I put in a good word for him, but HR knows that I have no idea what the tech guys actually do, so it might not carry much weight.”

  “You didn’t have to do that,” Jessica said, slipping her hand out from under Pete’s. “He needs to get the job on his own merits.”

  A flash of disappointment crossed Pete’s face. “Oh, he will, but having a connection gets his résumé looked at faster and with closer attention.”

  “They’ll check his references, too, I assume?” She didn’t want Aidan to make Pete look bad when he quit abruptly. She wasn’t going to rat out her brother,
but one of Aidan’s past employers might. That would make her feel less guilty somehow.

  Pete shot her a sharp glance. “They’re pretty thorough, but is there something I should know?”

  “No, they’ll all tell your HR people how brilliant my little brother is.” That much was true.

  Pete looked as though he wanted to ask more, but he moved on to another topic. He was a pleasant companion: attentive, nice-looking, and easy to be with. Forty-eight hours ago, she might have been glowing in his company. But Hugh’s turquoise eyes and clever hands and lust-inducing body kept rising up between her and her current date.

  She put down her empty glass. “This drink is hitting me hard after last night’s—I mean, Tuesday’s—all-nighter. You see, I can’t even remember what day of the week it is.” She gave him a rueful smile. “I don’t want to be rude and fall asleep on your shoulder, so maybe I should go home.”

  “Nothing would make me happier than to have you dreaming on my shoulder,” he said, giving her a slow, intimate smile before he signaled the waitress.

  “Er, thank you.” She wanted to respond to that smile, but instead it made her uncomfortable. Because she’d had sex with Hugh yesterday and couldn’t forget the heady sensations.

  She just hoped the effects would fade with time.

  Hugh poured himself a mug of coffee in the kitchen of his trailer. He needed the heat to ward off the chill of an outdoor night shoot in frigid Boston. Settling on the sofa, he cursed and shifted as the gun in the shoulder holster dug into his ribs. He’d worn enough of them that he should be more accustomed to their presence. Of course, his harness wasn’t meant for comfort. It was designed to fit tightly over the black turtleneck and emphasize his chest and shoulders for the cameras. As he plucked at the straps irritably, his gaze fell on his cell phone, lying on the coffee table.

  Picking it up, he swiped to Jessica’s response to his text message: Yes. That’s all she’d said. One short word. That should tell him all he needed to know regarding her lack of interest about remaining in contact with him. She’d made it pretty clear the morning they’d parted, but he’d hoped she might have changed her mind.