by Olivia Miles
She chuckled under her breath, forcing the last of her nerves from her system. She was overthinking this. It wasn’t like she was going to marry the man… Her hand began to tremble as she leaned into the mirror and touched up her lipstick, and she quickly tossed it back in her clutch. She wasn’t going to think about marriage now. Not with Adam. Not with Jason. Not with anyone.
Tonight she was a young, single girl in a beautiful—if slightly revealing—lacy top, in a fancy restaurant, dining with one of the most handsome men she had ever seen in her life. Even if he did seem to like to drink. And even if he did have a funny look on his face when she mentioned Sophie.
Well. She wasn’t going to think about that either. She was being overly sensitive. One glass of Scotch and a little jolt that she had a child were to be expected, right?
Jane smoothed her hair and then flattened her blouse at her hips. With one last check in the mirror over her shoulder, she lifted her chin and pulled open the door. Her heels tapped along the polished wooden floorboards as she retraced her way to the table, and her heart warmed at the sight of that clean-shaven face, the designer charcoal suit, and the navy silk tie that offset the electric hue of his irises.
Jason sipped his Scotch, barely noticing her as she slid into her seat. Jane opened her mouth to break the silence, but the waitress reappeared at that moment with their starter salad. And another Scotch. How long had she been in the restroom?
“So.” The polite smile froze on Jane’s face, and the first onset of anxiety hit her as Jason’s lids fell lower. He clutched the glass in his hand at a precarious angle, and she reached out to right it before the amber liquid could spill all over the untouched baguette.
Oh, why not? she thought, reaching for the baguette, and tore off a large chunk. She slathered it in butter with quick, determined strokes, seething. She couldn’t even meet Jason’s eyes as she bit into the bread and chewed. It was nearly as good as Anna’s, but not quite. Either way, she decided then and there that she may as well enjoy the meal.
“So how long have you been divorced?” she inquired, deciding to latch onto the most obvious topic. She’d been carefully instructed by Rosemary not to mention such a painful subject, but considering Jason was chasing his wine with a third glass of liquor, rules didn’t seem to apply anymore. She tore off another piece of bread, more liberal with the butter this time.
“Oh.” Jason pulled in a sigh and ran a hand over his jaw. “About four years.”
Jane tried to hide her surprise. She stopped chewing momentarily, thinking of uttering the same words so many years from now. Alone for four years. Sophie would be nearly nine by then; any hope of another child would seem lost. She’d loved growing up with two sisters, and she’d wanted the same for her daughter. Now, that seemed like a slim possibility. The losses just kept coming. One after the next.
She swallowed the bread too early, and sputtered. Tears prickled her eyes as she patted her chest and fumbled for the glass of water. Across from her, Jason only slightly perked up.
“Sorry,” Jane managed when she’d recovered. “Down the wrong pipe.”
When he said nothing, she refilled her wine from the bottle in the center. She’d always thought a gentleman might be the one to make this gesture, but it didn’t seem she was dining with one tonight.
Not that Adam was really a gentleman, she reminded herself. Not in the end.
“So four years?” Jane shook her head. “Divorce isn’t an easy process, I’m finding.”
“Tell me about it,” Jason spat. He leaned eagerly across the table, his eyes glinting with anger. “She took my house, the car, and she would have probably taken the kids if we’d had any, which, fortunately, we didn’t.”
Jane was aware that her eyes had grown wide. “Thank goodness for that,” she muttered.
She inhaled with relief as the waitress delivered their entrées. A little food might be just what he needs, Jane thought, forcing herself to focus on the positive. It had all been so promising when he picked her up tonight—she’d immediately shed that cardigan—and she had gone against Rosemary’s prudent advice and mentioned the divorce, which was clearly a touchy subject indeed. She herself was hardly free of sometimes venomous thoughts about Adam after all…
She returned her gaze to Jason as the waitress moved to the next table, and her lips thinned at the sight of his slumped posture, the tousled hair, and the lazy drift of his gaze.
Okay, so the guy was drunk.
“I’m sorry I mentioned your divorce.”
“Oh, I’m over it,” Jason said, taking a hearty bite of his steak.
Jane lowered her eyes to her food. She’d focus on the artful display. The delicate cream sauce that Anna would be sure to grill her about later. That must be rosemary in there, but Jane would never be able to decipher the other herbs. “Yes, well, it’s not easy to mend a broken heart,” she admitted.
He snorted. “The only broken heart was hers. What’s that saying?” He leaned into his elbow on the table and twirled his fork in the air. “Hell hath no fury…”
Jane gave him a long look. “Like a woman scorned?”
Jason gave a thin smile and pointed the fork in her direction. “Scorned is a very good word for her. I made one little mistake, just one time, and she’s never let me forget it.”
One little mistake. Jane could surmise what that would be.
She plucked her cardigan from the back of her chair and quickly shrugged it on, buttoning it to the very top. Her heart was pounding when she considered her options, knowing what she must do. Setting her napkin on her half-eaten dinner, she said calmly, “It’s been a really interesting evening, Jason, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to call it a night.”
Panic filled his expression as she grabbed her bag and pushed back her chair, and for a moment, Jane wavered. He was a lawyer, after all, and a handsome one. He spoke three languages and he was an Ivy League grad. So he had too much to drink—maybe he was nervous!
But no, she thought. No. He was a cheater. And that was one thing she could never look past.
“But—dinner! And… dessert! If you don’t like the food, then at least stay for a drink. I thought we could have a little fun at my place after this.”
Jane blinked. “Thank you, but no. I have a daughter to get home to.”
He was on his feet now, his hand on her arm, and she lowered her gaze to it. He had the sense to heed the silent warning, even in his current state. “Aw, damn. Rosemary’s going to make my life a living hell for this.”
Jane couldn’t help but smile. It was the most approachable thing he’d said all evening.
“At least let me give you a ride home,” he insisted.
“No,” Jane said sharply, pulling back. “I’ll find my way.”
She turned on her heel and quickened her pace to the door, pausing only to tell the waitress to cut him off or take his keys, and then pushed through the doors into the cool spring air. She hesitated with the phone in her hands, wondering who she should call. Her mother was watching Sophie, who would certainly be asleep by now, so that left Grace or Anna.
Grace was probably with Luke. Besides, she would probably be far too disappointed for Jane that the evening hadn’t gone well. Anna, on the other hand, didn’t seem to bother with romantic entanglements. Jane could learn a lot from that sister.
Anna answered on the third ring and told her she’d be there in twenty minutes. Instantly feeling better, Jane noticed a coffee shop at the corner and stepped inside. She ordered a tea and sat near the window, eagerly watching for her sister’s car. When it finally pulled to a stop just shy of twenty-five minutes later, she couldn’t slide in fast enough.
“Another bust?” Anna asked.
“I had to tell the waitress to take his keys.” Jane met Anna’s wide-eyed stare and they both burst into a fit of laughter.
“You don’t seem disappointed,” Anna mused, glancing in the rearview mirror as she pulled her car from the curb, then turned onto
the road that led back toward Briar Creek.
“No,” Jane sighed. She stared out the window, as the shops and restaurants were replaced with a dark and seemingly endless forest. “He wasn’t looking to settle down. Maybe he wasn’t even capable of it. It’s better to know that up front, so you don’t end up surprised later.”
Anna nodded. “Nothing worse than a man finally showing you his true colors when it’s too late.”
Jane frowned. The edge in her sister’s tone seemed much too personal to be about Adam’s betrayal.
“I hope I didn’t interrupt your evening,” Jane said casually, noticing that Anna was dressed in her designer jeans and favorite blue top. There was a telltale smudge of gloss on her lips.
“Oh, I was just finishing up with Mark. Tweaking recipes for the contest…” She glanced at Jane and gave a quick shrug.
“I see,” Jane said, smiling to herself. She’d love for Anna to win the contest; it would be just the trick to get over the setback of the fire. She dropped her head back against the seat. “Is he still waiting for you then?”
“What? Oh no… no.” Anna had started to drum her pointer finger on the steering wheel: a nervous tic.
Jane narrowed her eyes. There had always been something weird between Anna and Mark. They’d been friendly enough growing up given their three-year age difference, but then after they both returned to Briar Creek from culinary school they could barely even be in the same room. Anna had never said a word on the subject, but she didn’t need to now. Her body language said everything.
Something was up between Anna and Mark. And it went deeper than running competing restaurants on Main Street.
“So things are going well then?” Jane slanted a glance at Anna, whose eyes were fixed on the road as they came into town.
“Oh, better than I expected, really. I hate to jinx things, but I think we stand a chance at winning.” She smiled. “That would be… a huge relief.”
“Are you still nervous about the loan?”
Anna pulled to a stop at a red light and tucked her hands under her thighs. “If I’m being honest, a bit, but please don’t tell Grace. She’ll just tell Luke and… I’d rather handle this myself. Grace and I are only now getting back on good terms. You know things were strained for us after she moved away.”
“I know.” Jane frowned as the light switched back to green. Anna had always resented Grace for moving to New York and not being there when their father died. Main Street Books was in sight now, and as they passed by it, she felt a physical ache for her father, remembering how much that old place meant to him. “Dad would be so proud of you. You know that, don’t you?”
Anna smiled sadly. “He’d be proud of all of us.”
Jane studied her sister’s stoic profile. “I wish I had money to lend you to help with everything, but you know I don’t.”
“Oh, Jane! That was never even a consideration. You have enough on your plate without worrying about this.” Anna lifted her chin. “I’ll get through it. Once the café reopens everything will be just fine.”
Jane’s frown deepened at the hesitancy in her sister’s voice. It wasn’t like her to be so unsure of herself.
“So,” Anna said, sliding her a grin. “You ready for another date?”
“Nope.” Jane shook her head firmly. “This was it. I’m telling Rosemary I’m done.”
“You sure?”
Jane gave her sister a pleading look. “I don’t think I’m ready to date. The thought of having my heart broken again…” She remembered who she was talking to and checked herself. “Sorry. I must sound ridiculous to you.”
Anna stared pensively ahead. “I think I understand better than you know.” She turned up the radio dial, shutting down any chance of the conversation continuing.
Jane studied her sister for a long moment, letting her words resonate, thinking back on the change she’d seen in her after she’d graduated from school, and then again this past week.
Yes, Anna might just understand her better than she thought, but not because Anna was good about avoiding romantic entanglements, but because, like Jane, she might be silently dealing with her very own.
CHAPTER
15
Mark was in his office when Anna finished transferring the last of the croissants from the cooling rack. She’d worked slowly, purposefully stalling so she could casually leave without any awkwardness, or perhaps dragging out the moment until she had to depart, but now she was left with the dilemma of knocking on his door specifically to say goodbye, or just leaving without a word.
The latter was unfortunately not an option, even if a clean break was exactly what she needed. She hadn’t wanted to come to Hastings this morning, even if she was able to accomplish all her baking for the Annex in a little more than two hours. The contest was now exactly two weeks away, and if they were going to work on their entry tonight, it would be better to discuss that now rather than pop in later or God forbid pick up the phone.
She loaded the last of the boxes into the trunk of her car, which she’d parked just beside Mark’s black SUV in the alley behind the diner, and then reentered through the kitchen door. She could still make out the soft lull of his voice as she neared his half-open office door, but as she was just about to lean in and knock, Mark appeared in the doorframe.
“You startled me,” she said, covering her embarrassment with a smile.
She’d tried not to let herself look his way while they were in the kitchen, each separately preparing for their day, but now she couldn’t avoid it. His nut brown hair was tousled as if he had been dragging his hands through it, and his deep espresso eyes were warm and alive. A day’s worth of stubble had collected on his chin, framing his square jaw. Her eyes rested firmly on his mouth, just as they had the night before, first in his kitchen while they’d again tested recipes and then all through the night, while she’d tossed and turned in search of sleep that never came.
Mark, on the other hand, seemed to have not had trouble in the sleep department. He looked well rested and energized, while her left eye was starting to twitch with fatigue.
Figures, Anna thought bitterly. Nothing touched Mark, nothing rattled him, and nothing kept him awake. He was untouchable—a trait she’d aspired to and achieved once. Look at her now; only a matter of a week into letting her wall down, and she was already feeling raw and exposed.
She wouldn’t let him in again. She couldn’t.
“Were you waiting for me?”
If you counted standing around in the kitchen waiting for him to get off the phone as waiting, then guilty as charged. “I’m heading over to the bookstore,” she informed him.
His eyes never strayed. “Will I see you later?”
She ran through her calendar. She was covering the counter at the Annex until noon, and her meeting with Sharon would last until one. After that, she had hoped to visit the furniture store where she’d first purchased the seating for Fireside—she’d have to charge anything she bought with the plan to pay it off when the check from the insurance company cleared.
“Does seven work for you?”
“It’s a date.” Mark tossed her a lopsided grin that made her stomach roll over. She knew what he meant by it, but the part of her that liked his word choice entirely too much made her feel anxious. She had to get through this damn contest and get back to her own kitchen once and for all.
She waved goodbye and turned on her heel before she could linger on the definition of his lips a second longer, and her heart thrummed with each step she took toward the back door, feeling Mark’s eyes on her back.
It wasn’t personal, she reminded herself firmly as she pushed through the door without another glance back. With Mark, it was never, ever personal.
Rosemary was already seated at the long farmhouse table near the window of the Annex when Anna came in with a high stack of pastry boxes. Spread on the table was this week’s book club selection, but Rosemary’s attention was on anything but the paperback in front
of her. Jane stood at the head of the table, fury reddening her face, as Rosemary pursed her lips and batted her eyelashes, her hands folded calmly in her lap.
“Everything okay this morning?” Anna asked. She set the boxes on the counter and began quickly plating the triple berry muffins. She should have been here at least ten minutes ago, and instead she’d stood around the diner waiting for one last exchange with Mark. Pathetic.
A rush of anger fueled her as she took the last muffin from the box and popped the top on another. It was just like the day he broke up with her.
They’d agreed to meet but he’d kept her waiting, and fool that she was, she’d stood outside his class while he’d chatted with another girl, that long-legged brunette named Cassie, not even bothering to look in her direction through the open door, even though he had to have known she was there. He’d been distant for a week, but that was the moment she first knew for certain that his feelings for her, like those before her, had cooled.
She’d studied him sidelong the entire walk to a nearby coffee shop—he’d been quieter than he’d been in the two years they’d grown close, the laughter and ease had faded, and he didn’t reach for her hand the way he had those glorious four months when they couldn’t take their hands off each other. She asked if something was wrong, hoping it was her imagination, even if deep down she knew—this was Mark. She’d seen him brush off girl after girl before their friendship had turned romantic. She’d rolled her eyes as she’d watched him across campus, kissing some pretty classmate, knowing that within a few weeks he’d break up with her. His dating life was a revolving door, but she… she was his constant friend. She’d expected more from him, but she’d wanted more than he could give.
If she dared to think of that day—and she’d worked hard not to—she could still feel the weight of it square in her chest. The realization that she’d been played. That he never loved her, never would, and that she’d fed into his charms, and the fantasy he’d created, of how life might have been.
For all three of them.