by Gina Wilkins
“Anyway, I’ve already made a commitment, sort of, for my upcoming vacation,” she said a bit too offhandedly. “My mother called earlier. She wants me to visit her and my dad in Denver for a few days.”
“They’re living in Denver now?”
“Yes. Managing an apartment complex there. She said they like it.”
“Was that one of the places you lived with them?”
“No. They’ve only been there a month.”
“Think they’ll stay there?”
She sighed almost imperceptibly. “Who knows? I wouldn’t be entirely surprised if I get a call saying they’ve moved on before I can even make plane reservations.”
“Did you have a good talk with your mom?”
“The usual. She told me what they were up to, asked if I’m still in the same place, called me boring, then asked me to come visit.”
He lifted an eyebrow in response to one item on that list. “Your mother called you boring?”
“Well…maybe not in so many words,” she admitted.
“What words did she use?”
“She said that I’ve always liked my daily routines.”
He thought about that for a moment before asking, “Well? Don’t you?”
Her own pause was a bit longer. “Yeah. I guess I do,” she muttered. “It was just the way she said it…made it sound so dull.”
Mitch laughed. “Trust me, Jacqui. There is nothing dull about you.”
She looked pleased by the compliment. “Thanks.”
He tapped her chin with one finger. “You’re welcome.”
Looking at him through her lashes, she said, “My mother reminded me that next week is the anniversary of my sister’s death. An unnecessary reminder, of course.”
“Do your parents blame you for the accident that killed your sister?” He took a risk asking, but he really wanted to know.
She stiffened a little. “I never said I was driving.”
He merely looked at her.
Jacqui sighed. “I guess it was obvious. I was driving. I’d had my license for less than a month, and had little formal training behind the wheel. Dad just handed me the keys and told me to go get Olivia and me something to eat because he and Mom had other things to do. They planned to spend the evening in a bar close to the motel where we were living, just outside Chicago. A teenager in a sports car ran a red light and hit the old car I was driving, right in the passenger door. I’ve already told you Olivia died on the operating table. I damaged my spleen and had a few broken bones, but she took the brunt of the crash.”
“How old were you?”
“I was almost seventeen. Olivia had just turned fifteen.”
“And you blame yourself? Even though the other teen driver ran the light?”
“I don’t blame myself, exactly. The boy was at fault. But if I’d been more experienced, maybe a little less distracted by something Olivia was saying or by trying to decide where to eat…”
“You do blame yourself. That’s a heavy burden to carry, Jacqui.”
“I carried it a long time,” she admitted. “I’ve learned to let it go. Most of the time.”
“The other driver—was he injured?”
“Yes. He had a head injury that was expected to cause him lifelong challenges. I don’t know how he’s done since, haven’t really wanted to find out. It was a tragedy for him and his family, too. He was just a pampered kid, driving too fast in a car that was too powerful for a boy his age. Some friends were following him in another car, and he was showing off for them. They’re the ones who called the paramedics.”
“It must have been a horrible time for you and your parents.”
“It was. His insurance covered the hospital bills and the funeral and supported my parents for a couple of years, but it couldn’t soothe the pain of their loss.”
“Or yours.”
“No.”
He suspected that Jacqui hadn’t received a penny of that money, other than to pay her hospital bills. “What happened after that? With you and your family, I mean?”
“After a few months, Dad needed to move on. Running, that time. Mom started packing, the way she always does, but I told them I’d had enough of wandering aimlessly from place to place. I was ready to find someplace and stay awhile. I found a job at a restaurant, and I stayed behind when they left. It was the best choice for all of us.”
“And you were seventeen?”
“Yes.”
“Still so young.”
“I’ve always been old for my age.”
She’d had reason to be, he thought, guessing from some of the things she’d said about her parents that she must have been placed in charge of her younger sister from the time she was quite young. Which would have made her feel even more responsible for Olivia’s death. “I’m very sorry about what you’ve been through, Jacqui.”
She shook her head impatiently. “Other than losing my sister, I haven’t had such a bad life. My parents have their faults, but they never treated us badly. I’ve had jobs I liked, met some great people in my travels—like the sweet neighbor who taught me how to knit when I was a kid and my friend who owns the boutique and sells my work there. I have a couple of good friends here— I’m having lunch with my friend Alexis this Saturday. I liked my last job for Mr. Avery in Hot Springs, and I love working for your sister’s family. I have nothing, really, to complain about, though I do miss Olivia, of course.”
She was so determined not to be pitied. He understood her well enough by now to know she valued her competence and independence, and he couldn’t blame her for that. She’d been on her own a long time—even before that physical separation from her parents, he thought. She’d made her own way in the world and had done so quite successfully. She deserved to take pride in that.
“You know, I think I am hungry after all.” She rolled abruptly and reached for her clothes. “I’ll take the bathroom first. You can wash up while I cook.”
He lay on his back, his arms akimbo behind his head. “Take your time.”
He would just lie here for a while longer, thinking about some of the things she had said and wondering where they would go from here.
Chapter Ten
Jacqui felt as though she were living a double life. She continued to report to work at the usual time and performed her usual duties once there. She cleaned and did laundry, chauffeured Alice for some back-to-school shopping, wrestled Waldo into the car for a visit to the vet for his annual shots, ran errands and cooked dinners for the family before leaving every evening. She doubted that anyone in the family had any suspicion at all that her life had changed dramatically during the past week.
She saw Mitch nearly every day. Saying he thought it was better for all concerned, he’d moved out of his sister’s house the day after Meagan and Seth returned from their trip. His mother had urged him to stay with her, but he’d chosen instead to check into a hotel near the hospital until he could make more permanent arrangements. He’d told his mother that he didn’t want to disturb her with his erratic work hours, but Jacqui knew he had moved into the hotel so no one knew he was spending most of his free time with her.
She had made him promise not to tell anyone they were spending time together. Much less that they had become lovers. Although he’d argued that he didn’t care who knew he was seeing Jacqui, he had conceded to her request. He thought she was putting off telling everyone because she needed time to adjust to the change in their relationship. Time to get used to thinking of them as a couple before letting anyone else see them that way.
What would he think, she wondered, if he knew she was keeping their affair a secret because she fully expected it to be short-lived and hoped to avoid as much awkwardness as possible when it inevitably ended? Would he accuse her of conceding defeat before they even had a chance to make it work, or would he secretly appreciate that she was trying to spare him discomfort with his family?
As much as she was trying to protect her heart, she knew she was
going to miss him badly if—when—this all ended. The physical part of their relationship was amazing. Addictive. Like nothing she had ever experienced before. But even more, she savored the interludes afterward when they lay snuggled together in her bed, talking about their days or whatever else popped into their heads.
He made her laugh with stories from his childhood, and she found herself telling him little anecdotes from her own, something she never did with other people. They talked about his adventures—and misadventures—with his sisters, and she told him some of the scrapes she and Olivia had gotten into. It didn’t hurt so much to talk about Olivia with Mitch, she discovered. Maybe because he knew how her sister had died and didn’t seem to judge her for it. Maybe because finally breaking her silence about Olivia with both Mitch and Alice made each mention of her a little easier.
Or maybe it was just that Mitch was incredibly easy to talk to.
They didn’t talk much about the future. She supposed he was doing something about finding a permanent place to live, but he didn’t discuss it. Mostly, when they looked ahead, it was not beyond Mitch’s rapidly approaching trip to Peru. He was so excited about that trek. She hoped it would be as much fun as he thought it would be. He would be so disappointed if it wasn’t.
She was going to miss him while he was away. But then, who knew if they’d still be together by the time he left anyway, she reminded herself. She wasn’t making any plans. She was simply going to enjoy it while it lasted. And when it ended—well, she had a lot of experience with moving on. She could still be friendly enough with Mitch on the rare occasions they would see each other through his family. And no one else would ever have to know about their temporary insanity.
The end came even sooner than she had predicted.
They had been lovers for just more than a week when Mitch reluctantly dressed to leave her apartment Monday night. It wasn’t all that late, but he had an early surgery the next morning. He thought it best that he go back to the hotel for a few hours of sleep first. He lingered for quite a while at the door as one good-night kiss led to another—and then another.
Finally she drew herself out of his arms and stepped back, warding him off when he laughingly reached for her again. “Go,” she ordered. “Get some sleep.”
“I’m going.” He heaved a sigh. “It gets harder to leave.”
“You’re just tired of that hotel.”
“That, too.” He opened the door, then paused in the doorway as if a thought had just occurred to him. “Jacqui—Madison’s birthday is next weekend.”
Lifting an eyebrow, she nodded. “I know. Meagan and Alice mentioned that they’re going shopping tomorrow evening to find her a gift.”
“We’re having a get-together at Mom’s Saturday night. Casual. Just family.”
She felt the muscles in her chest tighten as he spoke, making it more difficult to breathe. “Mitch—”
“Go with me, Jacqui. Everyone would love to have you there.”
As a matter of fact, LaDonna had already invited her. Jacqui hadn’t yet given an answer. She had wanted first to confirm with Mitch that they could both attend the party without giving anyone a hint of their true relationship. Now she wasn’t so sure.
“You’re, um, asking me to be there—just as a guest of the family?”
“As my guest,” he corrected. “I’d like us to go together.”
Twisting her hands in the tie of her short terry robe, she shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Everyone would start wondering what’s going on. You know Madison, especially, would be asking questions. Right now everyone thinks we’re just friends, but if we start attending parties together, they’re going to get different ideas.”
“The right idea, you mean.”
“We’re not ready for that to come out yet.” If ever.
“You’re not ready. Frankly, I don’t see the need for all the secrecy. I mean, sure, it was nice to have this past week all to ourselves without any outside scrutiny, but it’s inevitable that people are going to find out. What better time to make the announcement than when everyone’s already gathered together?”
It must have been panic that made her blurt tactlessly, “Make what announcement? That you’re sleeping with your sister’s housekeeper?”
As soon as she said them, she wished she could call the words back. Not because they weren’t what she was thinking, but because they led to a line of discussion she wasn’t sure she was ready to get into tonight.
Mitch closed the door deliberately. Planting his hands on his hips, he frowned at her. “Considering that you are a very intelligent woman, that was a really dumb thing to say.”
She flushed a little but lifted her chin and stood her ground. “Maybe. But still true. Why does everyone need to know our private business?”
“Because I don’t want to get in a position of lying to my family. Or sneaking around behind their back with you. Look, I know it’s still very early in our relationship…”
“We don’t have a relationship, Mitch. We’re just having a little fun for now while you’re at loose ends with your future plans, and there’s nothing at all wrong with that, but there’s no need for everyone to know about it. I don’t want anything to change between me and the rest of your family, once you and I— You know.”
“After we stop sleeping together?” he asked a bit too politely.
She shrugged.
“You never intended to give this a real chance, did you?”
“You’re the one who said you’re not at a point in your life where you’re interested in long-term leases,” she reminded him.
“That’s hardly fair. I was talking about real estate, not us.”
She shook her head sadly. “Don’t you see, Mitch? It’s all tied up together. I am the type who wants a long-term lease once I find exactly what I’m looking for. I don’t mind an occasional short-term stay in a decent place while I’m searching for a permanent home, but I always know going in that it’s only temporary.”
He looked baffled by her tangled analogy, and she supposed she couldn’t blame him for that. Still, she thought maybe he’d gotten the message. When it came to giving her heart, it was all or nothing with her. Until she found someone who felt exactly the same way—if that ever happened—she was keeping that vulnerable organ locked safely away. Even if it hadn’t been for all the other obstacles between them, Mitch had made it clear enough during the past couple of weeks that he wasn’t looking for long-term commitments.
“I love my job, and I don’t want to ruin my relationship with your sisters and your mother,” she repeated quietly. “I’m very fond of them. When you’re off exploring Peru or looking for exciting new jobs in places other than where you’ve lived all your life, I’ll still be here with them. I don’t want them feeling as though they have to take sides between us or treat me any differently than they have before. I’m Meagan and Seth’s housekeeper, an occasional nanny for Alice—and, for now anyway, a friend of the family. I’m content for things to stay that way.”
“So it’s a no on the party.”
Her heart twisted in response to his expression because they both knew she was turning down more than a simple invitation.
She agreed somewhat sadly. “It’s a no.”
He looked as though there was more he wanted to say, but he merely stood there for a moment in silence before he said, “Fine.”
“I’ll make an excuse to your mother. Other plans.”
He nodded. “Whatever you want to tell her. I won’t cause you any problems. I’d better go.” He reached for the doorknob again. “I’ll, uh, call you.”
Knotting the robe tie more tightly around her bloodless fingers, she managed a faint smile. “Right.”
He took one step outside her apartment, then paused once again. “Jacqui?” he said without looking back. “For the record—your job has never been an issue with me. I think you’re damned good at it.”
Despite her pain, it was still nice to
hear him say that. “Thank you, Mitch.”
“Good night.” He closed the door behind him.
Moving forward to turn the locks, she sighed heavily. He had said “good night,” but she thought she heard an echo of “goodbye” in her now-silent apartment.
She walked slowly over to the couch, where she sank onto one end and automatically picked up her knitting. She wouldn’t be sleeping for a while yet, so she might as well be productive while she sat there brooding.
So, it hadn’t lasted very long at all. Just over a week. Even with her brief history of ill-fated relationships, that was a record.
It was probably best this way. Short enough so that every moment had been close to perfection, at least until the very end. They hadn’t had to deal with fights or makeups or conflicts of time or priorities that inevitably caused friction in long-term relationships. Because it had been so brief, and so private, she wouldn’t have to deal with other people’s sympathy or advice or disapproval. And because her routines had been disrupted for only a few days, it wouldn’t take her long to fall back into them. She had been satisfied with her life before Mitch literally stumbled into it; she would be again, she promised herself.
It hadn’t escaped her notice that he hadn’t taken issue with her reminder that he wasn’t looking for a long-term commitment. She hadn’t expected a declaration of undying love or a flowery proposal of marriage—not after only a week of being together, certainly—but he could have argued that he was open to the possibilities. That he, too, was only waiting to be sure he’d found the right one before he made any binding promises.
Only he wasn’t looking for commitment. Not now. Not when he was still nagged by curiosity about what lay beyond the borders of his first thirty-one years. He’d known commitment all his life—to his family, his education and career training, his job. She didn’t really blame him for not wanting to tie himself to another anchor.
It was a good thing she had protected herself, she thought, glaring fiercely down at her knitting needles. Had she not, she would be in a great deal of pain right now. She would probably be feeling as if her tidy, carefully organized world had just crashed around her ears.