Second Act

by Herkness, Nancy

  Carla came in with a green zippered pouch tucked under her arm. “I’ve got too much cash in the drawer, so I’m going to the bank now. And don’t worry, Caleb’s coming with me.”

  Jessica made sure never to keep much cash in her office. She didn’t want to take the risk of exposing her staff to the dangers of robbery. She nodded and then pointed to her computer screen. “Do you think this e-mail is legit?” She could hear the excitement in her own voice.

  “You mean the vet who wants to come work here because we do good things?”

  Jessica nodded.

  Carla put her free hand on her hip. “Honey, I try not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but you better dig into her references real thoroughly, is all I’m saying.”

  “I will.” Her receptionist’s reality check doused some of her enthusiasm. “But I might be able to take an occasional Saturday off.”

  Carla’s skeptical expression softened. “You sure deserve it, so let’s hope she’s what she claims to be.”

  Jessica’s fingers flew over the keyboard as she asked the vet for her résumé and references, as well as when she could come in for an interview. As she hit send, a text message pinged on her phone. When she saw the sender was Hugh, she eyed her phone like it was a rabid raccoon. Should she touch it or run far away?

  She’d spent Sunday trying not to think of Hugh. She’d focused on Pete and how much fun she’d had at the hockey game . . . and drinks . . . and dinner. She’d reminded herself that Pete understood where she came from, that they had a whole background in common, that he’d made a success of himself, too.

  But when Pete had texted her a couple of times, she’d pleaded a busy day at work and given him short, noncommittal responses. She felt like a low-down, two-timing cheater, even though no promises had been asked for or made. There was just something about how Pete treated her that made her believe he expected more of their relationship than she was prepared to give yet—or maybe ever.

  Because Hugh rose up at every unguarded moment, his turquoise eyes blazing with arousal as she remembered him braced over her, moving inside her, touching her in the places that pleased her most. But it wasn’t just the sex. It was the defined muscles of his shoulders rippling as he smoothed plaster over the crack in her wall with focused care. And the sadness etched in the lines around his mouth when he apologized for hurting her at the end of their doomed engagement.

  She squeezed her eyes closed and rubbed them as though that could stop the parade of images.

  “You got a headache, Doc?” Diego’s voice held concern.

  She pulled her hands away from her face and beckoned him into the office. “No headache. Just thinking about something I shouldn’t be.”

  “I hear you.” Diego sat on the ramshackle chair in front of her desk. “I think we got another case of giardiasis at the center.”

  “Damn—darn it!” Jessica said, watching Diego politely suppress a smile. She knew he’d heard a lot worse, but she agreed with Emily about providing good role models for the kids, even though she didn’t work at the center. “I’ll stop in on my way home. Which dog is it?”

  “It’s Pari, the newest K-9 Angel. Maybe she’s the one who brought it in.”

  “That’s a strong possibility,” Jessica said, impressed with Diego’s analysis. “She might have shed the infectious cysts without showing symptoms herself. She’s the small, brown, curly-haired one, right?”

  Diego nodded. “Naveen’s dog. I’ll go with you to the center.” He stood up.

  “Don’t you have homework to do?”

  “One of our teachers was sick, so we had study period. I got a lot done then.”

  “I guess Violet will make sure you do the rest.”

  Diego grinned. “She sure will.”

  Three hours later, Jessica and Diego walked up the front steps of the Carver Center. Jessica was proud of herself for still not having read Hugh’s text message. Fortunately, she’d been crazy busy right up until the moment Carla declared the office closed for the day. Now her phone felt like it was scorching through the pocket of her scrubs.

  “Evening, Doc, Diego,” Powell said from behind his desk as she and the boy shucked off their coats. “Got another sick dog, I hear.”

  “Naveen’s new one,” Diego said, starting down the hallway.

  “There’s big excitement upstairs.” Powell tilted his head toward the staircase. “We got us a real, live movie star visiting.” He gave Jessica a quizzical smile. “Your friend.”

  Diego stopped. “You mean Hugh Baker? For real?” Then he looked at Jessica with a hint of embarrassment. “Carla told us you know him.”

  Jessica was still dealing with how just hearing that Hugh was in the same building as she was sent an electric shock of nerves through her. She fumbled her phone out of her pocket. Maybe that’s why Hugh had texted her.

  Are you free this Wednesday? I’d like to talk. Just talk.

  Sexual heat prickled over her skin and soaked deep down into her belly as his words evoked memories of the last Wednesday they’d spent together. She hadn’t intended to do more than talk the last time, and look where she’d ended up.

  “Doc? Doc?” Diego’s voice finally penetrated the Hugh-induced cloud of lust wrapped around her. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine. Just got an unexpected text.” She held up her phone. “You go on upstairs to meet Mr. Baker. I’ll take a look at Pari.”

  Diego hesitated for a split second before he shook his head. “I’ll go with you.”

  Jessica saw the longing on his face as he glanced up the stairs. “Let’s go up first, then. We’ll check out Pari after you meet the movie star.”

  The boy’s dazzling smile was a gift in itself. “That’d be dope.”

  “Leave the doc’s bag here,” Powell said. “I’ll look after it.”

  Preceding Diego up the stairs, Jessica lifted one hand to push at her bun, wondering how mussed it was after she had yanked off her knitted cap. Then she dropped it to her side. She refused to pander to her annoying obsession with her former fiancé. However, she did give a tug to the hem of her scrub top, feeling an unwelcome spurt of relief that she’d worn her favorite purple one with the flattering pin tucks.

  With each step, she felt her heart beat faster. Was it because she wanted to see Hugh or because she was afraid to?

  As she neared the top of the steps, she could hear his beautifully modulated voice rising and falling. He was telling a story about a movie stunt that had gone wrong, and she found herself caught up in the tale before she could even see him.

  When she reached the first floor, she dodged sideways to join the row of staff members leaning against the wall, their rapt attention on the man sitting in one of the mismatched armchairs in the lounge. He was wearing a black T-shirt and jeans, which should have made him blend right in, but his ineffable charisma made him practically glow, drawing every eye to the flash of his turquoise eyes, the glossy ebony of his hair, and the starkly beautiful planes of his face.

  One of the dogs sat beside him, its expression blissful as Hugh absently stroked its head with his long, elegant fingers. He gestured with his other hand, demonstrating how he’d leaped from a third-story window, only to discover that his safety harness hadn’t been properly fastened.

  She thought she’d escaped his notice, but he swept his gaze around his audience like the pro he was and it snagged on her. The fingers stroking the dog went still for a long moment, and there was the tiniest break in the flow of his words. But only she noticed before the show went on.

  Diego joined a group of older kids who were propped against the back of a sofa, and Jessica could see him fall under Hugh’s spell. She should slip downstairs to take care of Pari now, but she found herself ensnared as well. The movements of Hugh’s hands, the stretch of his T-shirt over the muscles of his chest and shoulders, and the long, denim-clad legs wound their fascination around her like a silken net.

  She caught her breath as he described how when he fell,
he could feel the safety harness slipping off his chest and away from his shoulders while he tried to grasp one of the straps as he heard the screams and shouts of the film crew. Just when he thought he had lost the harness and was going to crash into the ground at full speed, his watch snagged on a buckle, giving him enough time to grab the strap and break his fall, although he nearly wrenched his shoulder out of its socket. He lifted his wrist as he described the bruise that wrapped around where the watchband had been mashed against his skin. “But I’ve worn that watch for every stunt since then. It saved my life.”

  He looked around. “Know what I learned from that experience?”

  “Use a stunt double,” one kid called out.

  “Don’t jump outta third-floor windows,” another one said.

  “Wear two safety harnesses” was the final suggestion.

  Hugh laughed, a deep, rich rumble of amusement. “All excellent advice. But I can’t always take it.” He leaned forward to make sure he had their attention. “I learned to check the safety harness myself and to do it twice. Because no one cares about your fate as much as you do. Your future is always in your own hands.”

  Jessica felt her heart twist. No one had cared about Hugh as a child. Not to mention that there had been no safety harness for his younger self.

  A chorus of “yeahs” and “amens” rose in agreement with his words.

  “They care here.” It was Diego, his voice booming out. “They got our backs here.”

  Jessica saw Emily stand up straighter and smile at the boy’s words.

  This time the sound of agreement was louder and longer. All the staff members were grinning by the end of it, and some wiped at their eyes.

  Hugh nodded as the room quieted. “You’re right, and you’re lucky to have this place. But your life is still your responsibility. You have value, every one of you, and you should always act that way.”

  Jessica knew he’d never felt valued. Never believed that he mattered in any way. Which was why he’d been so focused on succeeding as an actor. In his roles, he’d found a way to pretend to be someone who was worthy of attention. She’d understood that from the first time he’d told her about his past as a foster child.

  But she’d assumed he had left that behind when he rose to the pinnacle of his profession. Now millions of people wanted to know what he ate for breakfast, where he bought his socks, and whom he was sleeping with. He had all the attention he’d craved. Yet she could still see the foster child looking out of his eyes as he spoke to the kids.

  She didn’t want to feel any more sympathy for Hugh, so she slipped away and down the stairs. She stopped to grab her duffel from Powell and tromped down to the basement. The dogs greeted her with surprising enthusiasm, given that she usually arrived bearing needles. But dogs were very forgiving that way. Far more than people.

  She made the quiet signal, and most of them stopped barking. “Where’s Pari?” she asked, walking along the row of crates with their neatly lettered name tags. There was an empty space toward one end and no sign of Pari, so she checked the storage closet where she’d spent the night. The one Hugh had carried her out of.

  The little brown-and-white mutt stood up when Jessica opened the crate’s door. “You look better than Khonsu did,” Jessica said with relief. When she called the dog’s name, Pari ambled out of the crate.

  After a thorough examination, Jessica had to agree with Diego’s diagnosis. She got out the metronidazole and dosed Pari with half a tablet. After giving the ailing little creature some gentle petting, she put her back in the crate.

  Pulling out a script pad and pen, she sat cross-legged on the floor and started a note to Diego. She wanted to dodge out of the center before she ran into Hugh. She didn’t have an answer for him about Wednesday.

  “You just can’t stay out of this closet, can you?”

  The black velvet of Hugh’s voice shimmered through her, even as she inwardly berated herself for not just texting Diego about the meds so she could escape sooner. “I go where my patients are,” she said, continuing to write without looking up. “You did a nice thing, talking with the kids.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hugh’s legs fold down until he was squatting beside her, his forearms resting on his knees. “I like kids,” he said.

  She finished her note and stuck it to the bottle of metro with a strip of surgical tape. “They’ll be telling everyone about meeting a famous movie star. It will make them feel important in front of their friends.” She turned to look at him, getting the full wallop of his extraordinary face about two feet from hers. Good thing she was already sitting down.

  He nodded. “It’s the least I can give them.” Because he understood that any little thing that gave a disadvantaged kid a positive moment in the spotlight could help.

  Damn it! She didn’t want to see this side of him right now.

  “Need a lift?” He held out his hand, only the tiny twitch of one corner of his lips betraying his deliberate pun.

  She couldn’t ignore his offer, so she braced herself and laid her palm on his. The strength of his fingers and his arm as he rose and pulled her up with him sent heat corkscrewing deep inside her.

  “I have tickets to A Question of Desire Wednesday night. I was hoping you’d come with me,” he said, her hand still enveloped in his.

  Those were the most in-demand tickets on Broadway, impossible to get because the cast was filled with marquee names who were contracted for a limited run. But Hugh could get anything he wanted now, of course. “You sure know how to tempt a girl,” she said, stalling even though she knew she’d say yes. It was impossible for her to resist going to a fabulous play with Hugh as her date. No woman possessed that kind of willpower, even if she wondered about the motive behind the invitation.

  His blue eyes went smoky, but he didn’t take advantage of her opening for a flirtatious comment. “And dinner first, I hope,” he added.

  His thumb traced over her knuckles, a touch that sent a tingle flickering across her skin. But she looked him straight in the eye. “Just dinner and the play.”

  He nodded. “No other expectations.”

  “Sounds good,” she said. But Hugh hadn’t been responsible for her previous insanity.

  It was her own weakness she had to fight.

  Chapter 12

  Jessica had come close to wearing scrubs for her dinner with Hugh. After all, he’d claimed he would be fine with that, and she wanted to test him to see if that was true.

  Instead, she’d fallen back on the New Yorker’s uniform of black trousers, black boots, and a silky black top with a draped V neck. She’d broken out her long-disused curling iron to add some soft, sexy waves to her hair and left it loose and shining around her shoulders. A gold chain dotted with chunks of polished carnelian circled her neck a couple of times and lay against the bare skin of her décolletage. She might not be a movie star, but she could still play up her assets.

  Of course, that would appear to conflict with her avowed intention of not sleeping with Hugh. If she’d wanted to help herself keep her vow, she should have worn a bulky, shapeless turtleneck.

  But the flicker of heat in Hugh’s eyes when she opened her front door gave her a little blip of satisfaction.

  He transferred the heat to her by brushing the warm, chiseled curve of his lips against her cheek. “You look beautiful. And don’t make some comment about that being an empty compliment just because I hang around with movie stars.” He focused that intense gaze on her and repeated, “You. Look. Beautiful.”

  She reminded herself that he was an actor, so he could project sincerity at will, but something made her believe him this time. “Thank you. So do you. As always.”

  He wore black trousers, a black shirt open at the neck, and a pale gray woven blazer. The monochromatic color scheme made his turquoise eyes blaze like lasers. But she caught a flash of discomfort cross his face. He made a dismissive gesture, and she nearly pointed out that he didn’t take compliments any m
ore graciously than she did. “Come in out of the cold while I grab my coat.”

  “You won’t need it. The limo driver will let us out right at the door.”

  “Right. I forgot about that handy feature of riding in a limousine.” She picked up her purse and a red wool wrap from the front hall table. “Okay, then.”

  Hugh leaned forward to glance through the hallway door into the living room. “Aidan’s making good progress on the wallpaper stripping.”

  “He is.” Much to her surprise. Her brother was sticking with a project despite it being boring, dirty, and without compensation. She chose to interpret his actions as showing both maturity and appreciation for his sister, which warmed her heart. “He’s going to strip and refinish the woodwork next.”

  Hugh nodded his approval. “Is he job hunting, too?”

  “Sort of.” Aidan had been invited to come in for an interview at ExDat.

  “Meaning?” he asked.

  “He has one job interview scheduled for next week.”

  “I wish him luck.” Hugh put his hand on the small of her back to steer her toward the front door. She was sure she could feel the exact outline of every point of contact through the thin silk of her top, the heat of his palm a counterbalance to the piercing cold of the night air.

  To steady herself, she said, “Speaking of interviews, I have one scheduled with a vet who wants to work part-time at the clinic.”

  His fingers pressed more firmly against her back for a second. “You sound excited about it.”

  “I could use the help, so I’m hoping she’s as qualified as her résumé says she is. And that her references check out.”

  “Do you think they won’t?” He opened the limo door for her.

  She looked up at him. “Not a lot of vets want to work in South Harlem part-time, so I’m a little concerned that something in her background makes it hard for her to find another position.”

  “Maybe she just wants to go where her help will be most valuable.” Something about his tone made her try to read his expression, but his face was in shadow.