Reunion for the First Time

by K. M. Daughters

  “No, thanks. I like to walk. See you later.”

  Moving rapidly down the block away from him, Beth looked like a teenager in black jeans and a fur trimmed bomber jacket, so unlike any of the much more lush, full-bodied women who usually attracted him. He had a splendid view of her retreating figure. He stood and appreciated it for a while before he walked around the building to the church parking lot.

  That kiss over the pizza pan proved his attraction to her didn’t fall into any of his usual categories. Even women like Gina didn’t make him crazy with lust after one kiss, or ten. He was losing it over Beth Moran.

  A couple of kisses and passes around a dance floor? How the hell did that translate into a fire in his gut and an invasion of his thoughts?

  Jack had been thinking about her when he happened on the little church. He hadn’t noticed her until Communion was served, and he’d seen her walk forward to the altar. His inner leap of excitement at the coincidence that she was there both delighted and scared him.

  His head told him it might be time for a friendly parting before his emotions got the best of him. But he hadn’t hesitated to accept her invitation for that evening. He had told her the truth and was intrigued. No doubt Beth was a heart stealer, like Mari, like his mother. If he was upfront with her and she agreed to no strings, they could part as friends eventually.

  ****

  The sunset was painted in pastel layers of purple, pink and gray across the sky to their left as Lizzie set out on foot with Jack that evening. Dim stars poked out in the darkening sky and the frosty November air chilled the lungs.

  She laced her arm through his, snuggled into him for warmth and walked north on Dearborn. “I really had a great time last night. I enjoyed meeting Rae and the food was just delicious. I have new favorites to order. Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me. Thank your Packers. Double or nothing next game?”

  “You’re on.”

  “Have you talked to Kay or Mick lately?” Jack’s gloved hand covered hers linked around his bicep.

  “Kay’s in the hospital.”

  “What happened?” His brows pinched with concern.

  “Nothing, really, according to Mick. The doctor wanted her to have complete bed rest. The house is chaos because the renovations aren’t finished, and the hospital is the best place for her.”

  “But?”

  “But I have this nagging feeling that something is wrong, and I can’t seem to talk or pray myself out of it.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help? Kay and Mick are really good people.”

  His concern for her friends and consideration of her feelings touched her. Especially after Wallace treated her apprehensions as nonsense. Jack had only spent a few days with Kay and Mick. Wallace and Kay had grown up together. Yet Jack offered to help and didn’t make her feel foolish for worrying.

  Comforted that she wasn’t alone against this wall of dread she said, “Thanks so much for offering. I hope I’m worrying for nothing.”

  They were nearing Charlie’s neighborhood in Lincoln Park.

  “Are we going to see my brother?”

  “Nope.” Lizzie shook her head.

  “Well, the only place I know over here besides Charlie’s is the zoo. Are we going to the zoo?”

  “Yep.”

  “Is it even open at night?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Quickening the pace, she led him to the zoo. Lizzie grabbed Jack’s hand and tugged him through the wide-open, main gate, “Ta da.” She spread her arms, mittens dangling. “Welcome to Zoolights.”

  Open-mouthed, Jack took in the light-encrusted trees that blazed around them like magical torches, a child’s fantasyland.

  “How could I have missed this from the street?” He glanced back toward the gate at the dark foliage that rimmed the park and kept Zoolights secreted away.

  Lizzie enjoyed his reaction. He wore a wonderful star struck expression and she had a glimpse of what Jack might have been as a boy.

  “Isn’t this just the coolest thing?”

  “Makes me feel like I’m four years old. How did you find this?”

  “Last year one of the news stations did a story about it. I’m a sucker for anything to do with Christmas, so as soon as the show went off, I bundled myself up and headed here. I’m addicted. I must have come back twenty times last year. I even brought Mari here once. It was so special.”

  Her voice caught in her throat and she looked at Jack, helpless to stem tears from welling. His eyes told her he understood.

  “Anyway.” She dabbed her eyes with her mittens. “I couldn’t wait for it to open again this year. Come on.”

  He didn’t resist as she pulled him along by the hand like a mommy with her happy toddler.

  “There’s more,” she promised.

  Lizzie found a bench that overlooked a huge display of The Twelve Days of Christmas. She sat and tugged him down next to her

  Red and green lights reflected on his face as he brushed a light kiss on her cheek. “Thank you for bringing me here,” he said, his voice husky.

  “You’re welcome.” Lizzie scooted over on the bench drawn by his radiant body heat, shoulder to shoulder.

  “Doesn’t this kick-start your holiday spirit?” She leaned her head against his shoulder and gazed at the lights, peaceful and dreamy.

  “It does. I can’t believe that this has been here and I never knew about it.”

  “It’s one of my favorite Christmas traditions now. I plan to be here every year.”

  “Sounds like a good plan.” Jack toyed with the buttons on her coat.

  Her chin toward her chest, she longed for him to undo those buttons and slip that huge, warm hand inside her coat and find her breast.

  She shivered from the reaction his simple touch invoked.

  “You’re freezing. Let’s get moving,” he surmised, totally off the mark. He stood and then hoisted her to her feet.

  With Jack’s arm around her on the walk beneath glittering trees, she leaned close to his chest, wistfully leaving the Christmas wonderland behind.

  “Do you want me to flag down a cab?”

  Lizzie didn’t want the closeness to end as quickly as a cab ride back. She shook her head. “No, let’s walk.”

  Choosing another way home, she approached the Music Hall of the Performing Arts. Jack slipped his arm from around her shoulder and pointed out a banner across the building’s façade that advertised an upcoming charity ball.

  Lizzie stopped and read it out loud, “The tenth annual ball sponsored by Butterfly Books and JP Hamilton Associates. Benefiting the Mariposa Leukemia Foundation.”

  A list of various other company sponsors included banks, legal firms, construction companies, furniture movers and real estate firms.

  “This is wonderful. I didn’t know Charlie was doing this. Did you know about this?”

  “Of course. I just assumed you knew all about it. My company is sponsoring, too.”

  Lizzie nodded, scanning the list of construction companies.

  “Want to go?” Jack’s tone casual, off-handed.

  “Yes. I’ll call Charlie in the morning to get my ticket.”

  “Sorry, it’s sold out,” he said.

  She faced Jack and shrugged, “Oh. I guess all I can do is make a donation.”

  Shoving his hands in his pockets, he cast her a playful grin, “I have two tickets. Want to go to the ball with me?”

  Happy anticipation filled her. “I would love to. Thank you.”

  Accepting his outstretched hand, the walk resumed as the temperature outside continued to dip. Despite the frigid air, Lizzie’s temperature spiked with Jack near. Twin wispy clouds of breath emitted from their mouths in front of them as if they were wading through steam on the return to her condo.

  “I liked your surprise. Thanks.” He brought first one of her mittens, then the other to his lips.

  His warm breath fanned her numb fingertips beneath the wool and made them st
ing.

  She tilted her head up to him. “You’re welcome. I had a wonderful time sharing it with you.”

  “I’ll call you with details about the charity ball.”

  Lost in his sapphire eyes, spellbound, Lizzie whispered, “I’ll be waiting.”

  She started to move away from him, and he pulled her back into a comforting embrace. His chilled lips pressed and opened hers to the delicious heat of his mouth. The now familiar jolt of pleasure seared her senses. He made her oblivious to anything but the fresh mint taste of his lips, his musky smell, and his sensual power over her. Strange and tantalizing, Lizzie instinctively knew that if she surrendered she would have sexual power over him.

  What then?

  Chapter Fourteen

  When Charlie called, Jack already had the portable phone in his hand, about to dial Beth’s number. He knew she wasn’t home. She had left on the first flight for New York that morning for a meeting with her editor.

  He pictured the way she’d looked fidgeting next to him on the flight to Boston two months ago, paperback on her lap, spitting mad and flushed from yelling at him.

  Jack could almost smell the soft floral perfume she always wore. The memory of it tightened the pit of his stomach. Crazy. He told himself a dozen times a day that she wasn’t for him. She wanted marriage, kids. He wasn’t looking for forever, didn’t believe it existed. How could Beth believe in it? Prescott wasn’t proof enough for her that forever is a fairy tale?

  Prescott. Is that what the attraction to Beth is about? Beating Prescott at his own game?

  No. Business was one thing.

  Despite Jack’s fierce dedication to gain a competitive edge over all business opponents, he didn’t play the professional game like Wally, and he’d never play games socially. Especially with Beth.

  The aftereffects of their last kiss came to mind at unexpected times. Nothing about any other woman he’d known lingered the way that innocent, potent kiss did. She shook him, unraveled the protective web of rationalizations against love he’d spun around his heart since he was a teenager. But Charlie had grown up in the same motherless house as Jack and had figured out how to give his heart freely, living the fairy tale before Mari’s death.

  Jack had never asked his brother if it was worth it, but he suspected he’d answer yes. Jack had thought it smart not to confuse hormones with emotional entanglements. And Jack had been very smart until now. Beth’s appeal nearly stopped his heart, jammed his brain.

  So he planned to call her, just to hear her voice on her voicemail recording. Then the phone rang in his hand and made him jump.

  He connected on the half ring, thinking maybe it was Beth and there was some happy ESP thing going on between them.

  “Hi, I was just thinking about you.”

  “I’m touched, Jack.” Charlie’s voice was hardly the soundtrack in Jack’s daydream. “And I was thinking about you, too, which is why I dialed the phone.”

  Use the brain, Jack. Since when do I moon over women?

  “Hey, Charlie. What’s up?”

  “A lot, actually. Can you swing by my office sometime today? I have proofs for the book that I want to show you, and I had a call from the event planner we hired. She’s faxed over some menus for us to go over.”

  “Menus? That’s way out of my league, bro.”

  “Me, too. Maybe we can stumble our way through it together.”

  Jack walked to his desk, punched a couple of keys on his computer and brought up his calendar for the day.

  “Let’s see. I have a meeting with the selection committee for the GC Building over lunch. I figure that’s a good sign if they’re willing to feed me. I’m not sure how long that will run. How about between two and three?”

  “Works for me. See ya later, and good luck at lunch.”

  Jack disconnected. The urge to listen to Beth’s recording had passed, sane once more. He didn’t have time to be so foolish. Instead, he’d go to his office and get some work done before his lunch meeting.

  Putting the phone back in its charger, he grabbed his briefcase.

  He walked into the JPH Building like he owned the place. In fact, he did since the death of his grandfather, Nicholas Hamilton, several years ago. His firm’s office suites took up the top two floors of the building, and other business tenants occupied the sixty floors below JP Hamilton Associates.

  His grandfather had designed the building when Jack was a first year architecture student, then an intern with the firm. Jack had worked on the sketches with him and was proud that many of his ideas had been incorporated into the design.

  Pop had always kept a watchful eye on his daughter’s boys after she abandoned them. Too many of the people Jack loved had departed. Another reason he was not looking for forever. Nothing lasted except his buildings. There wasn’t a day he walked through these doors that he didn’t think of the old man and miss him.

  “Good morning, Mr. Clark. You look very sharp this morning.”

  The woman who greeted Jack insisted, as always, on referring to him as Mr. Clark. She wore formal business attire—something she also insisted on, even though the firm’s dress code had become business casual long before it was trendy.

  With mouse brown hair, immovable in a pageboy cut and a middle-aged body given to plumpness, she wasn’t what many people would consider beautiful, but Jack did. The smile that animated her face and emanated warmth toward anyone who stood before her desk made her pretty. She lit the lounge with welcome. Jack always considered her one of the firm’s biggest assets.

  “Hey, Eileen. You look lovely, as usual. Big meeting at lunch. Wish me luck.”

  “Always, sir. Is the meeting here? Should I prepare the conference room?”

  “Nope, at The Metropolitan Club over lunch. They’re either giving me great news or letting me down with a whole lot of class.”

  “Well, good luck again. But I am sure you will not need it sir. I have complete confidence in your design.”

  The phone console, the sole item on her desk, bleeped, and she turned efficiently back to her work.

  Jack continued down the hall to his office, greeting other members of the firm as he made slow progress.

  He settled into his well-worn leather, swivel chair with roller wheels. Even while seated, he didn’t like to stay in one spot for long. Rows of bookshelves atop credenzas lined the entire wall behind him and half walls on either side of him. His desk was molded acrylic, a simple rectangle with narrow legs that allowed him latitude to move underneath it and handle plans and blueprints on its large work surface. He only kept a couple of chairs in front of his desk, as he would rather confer with his staff in the conference room. This private space, which he kept pristine and uncluttered, freed him to create without distraction.

  A black telephone, the only item on Jack’s desk except for a small, framed photograph of him and Charlie, distracted him now. Picking up the handset, his fingers hovered over the numbers still wanting to hear Beth’s voice.

  Wrestling with the impulse, he didn’t want to give her the wrong idea and wasn’t sure what this compulsion was about. Better to leave her alone until he could get a handle on these odd feelings.

  Work. Get focused.

  Jack rolled his chair to a side credenza, grabbed a banded roll of paper and scooted back to mid-desk. He worked on fine-tuning the specs for the GC Building until it was time to head over to the Sears Tower for his lunch appointment.

  Security in the Sears building lobby had been tight ever since 9/11. Glad he’d left enough time to go through the mandatory process of showing his driver’s license at the main security desk, badge issuance, pocket emptying and metal detector screening, he accessed the elevator bank that would whiz him to the private club on the upper floors of the building.

  Hushed power lunches and dizzying views in the restaurant epitomized The Metropolitan Club. Although on time, everyone else had apparently arrived since only one open seat remained at the large table of businessmen. Judging
from the apparent joviality of the group, they were a drink or two ahead of him. He walked around the table, shook hands and bantered with each of the men, before he took the vacant seat.

  “You’ll be needing a drink, Jack.” One of the men called a waiter over.

  When Jack had a Guinness delivered to him, he followed the lead of all the men at the table and raised his glass.

  “You’ve got the Global Commerce Building, Jack. Congratulations.”

  He savored the best beer he ever drank having beat Wally to win the business .

  ****

  Elated as he pushed through the doors of Butterfly Books to meet with Charlie, Pop was on Jack’s mind. He wore his grandfather’s cuff links, symbolically taking Pop with him to the meeting, and somehow, he believed helping maneuver its positive outcome. Normally, he didn’t put stock into superstition, but this time he needed any help he could get.

  Here in Charlie’s offices, Pop lived on, too. Their grandfather had bankrolled the publishing company for Charlie. Pop was one hell of a man, even if he had sired their mother. Jack, a familiar visitor, didn’t need the receptionist to clear him into the inner offices. Charlie wasn’t at his desk, so Jack wandered around the suite searching for him snagging a cup of coffee as he passed through the break room.

  He found Charlie in one of the many conference rooms leaning over the long, maple table, book proofs lined around its perimeter.

  Jack joined Charlie in inspecting the proofs. “Wow. These are great. I’m blown away. Beth does phenomenal work, Charlie. Really outstanding.”

  “Beth?”

  Jack rolled a chair back and sat. “Just a nickname that seemed to fit when I first met her. It stuck. She looks like a Beth to me.”

  “What exactly does a Beth look like?” Charlie sat next to him.

  “You know wholesome, innocent, nothing like a Gina.” He laughed when Charlie rolled his eyes.

  “We both know what a Gina looks like. All body. You sure can pick them Jack.”

  “You can say that again. Did you know she’s a Packer fan?”

  “Gina?” Charlie’s brow creased.

  “No Beth.” And she sure knows how to wear a Packer’s T-shirt.”