“Pardon me? You’re using my own lines against me now?”
“Whatever gets the job done.” He grinned and headed for the door. “Don’t forget to call. I bet Jack’s waiting to hear from you. See ya.” He hurried out.
“I should have known. Give that guy an opening and he uses Carlos to manipulate me.” She perched at the edge of her chair. “Heck, that’s not true. I’m lucky Carlos hasn’t disowned me. Not to mention it was Carlos’s idea that we all get along.”
She tapped her forefinger against her lips. Carlos rated at the top of the best son scale, and as a teacher, she’d seen the full gamut. He’d never given her too many worries outside of the normal boyhood stuff he’d pulled. The least she could do for him, for herself, was come to terms with her former spouse. But simply because she knew her responsibilities didn’t mean she had to call Jack right away.
Looking toward the door, she willed customers to enter and remove the opportunity for following through on her decision. No one arrived, not then and not for the next hour. Tension built, her breath shortened.
“Shoot. All right, already. I’ll call.” She picked up her phone then replaced the receiver. “What the heck will I say?”
She tried out phrases and intonations for a few minutes. The soft internal voice some called intuition but that she regarded as a higher intelligence took her to task. “Just call.” She heard the whisper and knew she shouldn’t put off the task.
Her hands shook as she dialed. If lucky, he wouldn’t answer, and she could leave a voice message, instead. When he answered, she knew her luck had bombed.
“Jack, uh, hi.”
“Hi. I’m glad you called.”
“You are?”
“Yeah, I’ve been hoping, you’d…aw hell. Never mind about me. What’s your decision? Will you have dinner with me tonight?”
“Yes, that’d be nice, yes.” Sally would have kicked herself but her legs were folded under her. She hadn’t meant to sound breathy. Shoot.
“So. My house okay, or would you prefer neutral territory? I could make reservations at Stratton Lake. I’d be happy to pick you up.”
Neither spoke for a long moment.
“Unless you’d rather drive yourself,” he said. “That would make tonight more a meeting and feel less like a date.”
He’d zoomed in on her concerns. “I hadn’t thought that far. Give me a sec.” She didn’t need time to know she didn’t want to share dark, private, close quarters with him.
“Neutral territory would be great if we can go somewhere we won’t be interrupted.”
“I’ve got the place.”
He named Celeste’s, an upscale lakeside restaurant known for their innovative chef. Last minute reservations were impossible. Obviously, that didn’t concern Jack. Envy swamped her, followed by anger. She fought to regain her composure.
“Is eight o’clock too late?”
“What? No, that’s fine. I’ll meet you there.”
She hung up and immediately dialed the Snip ’n Curl. A night with Jack demanded a mani-pedi and facial just to bolster her confidence. She’d resurrect the black dress and heels that had driven her last date to his knees. This dinner hadn’t been her idea or desire, but she wouldn’t go unprepared. She had no choice.
Well, that last thought wasn’t true. There were always choices. Sometimes the offerings were a rock and a glacier, but the choice remained.
****
She’d agreed to dinner. Jack turned off his phone, needing uninterrupted time to think. Carlos had initially suggested Sally and Jack meet to begin working out the tangled past. He’d resisted, but after seeing Sally at lunch yesterday, he’d known Carlos was right. The pack of guilt and pain he carried was larger than a stack of stadium-sized amplifiers.
He wouldn’t ponder how much he still craved Sally’s good opinion.
“Hey, Pete? Yeah, we’re on for tonight. Eight o’clock. You sure your staff doesn’t mind? You’ll be there? Hey, thanks, man. My mouth is all set for your kale salad. Yeah, later.”
Jack and Pete had run together every summer he’d spent at his uncle’s lake cottage. They’d become best friends when Pete’s family moved, allowing Pete to attend the same high school as Jack. Pete had cheered him on, encouraging him to strike out on a music career in defiance of his father and grandfather. Hell, if it weren’t for Pete’s getting him to the Woodstock festival, he’d never have met Sally.
When Pete finished culinary school and his apprenticeships, Jack fronted the money for his first restaurant. Now Pete ran a small bistro in an old Victorian home at Stratton Lake. His chef was top notch, and he drew people with his annual culinary weekend featuring wine pairing dinners and master classes.
Normally, when Jack visited, Pete seated him at the small chef’s table in the kitchen for privacy. Jack had picked up plenty of food tips and made friends with the staff. Tonight Jack and Sally would dine at the best lake view table, in a homey setting devoid of anyone other than Pete and his crew.
He figured they’d need the privacy, especially if Sally’s anger stirred. Ticking her off used to be easy for him, and he doubted much had changed in that department. He put through another call.
“Collective Unconscious Café.”
“Hey, Carlos. Your mom agreed to dinner tonight. I have a feeling you were involved in her decision.”
“I’d like my parents to get along.”
“Yeah. It’s the least we can do.” He scrubbed his cheek with his free hand. “You’re sure she won’t back out?” He’d never known her not to keep her commitments, but people changed. He didn’t really know her anymore, though his physical response to her sure remained the same.
“I heard she made an emergency appointment at the salon. This town’s gossip moves faster than the old Concorde jet. Sorry, I’ve gotta run.”
“Right.” Jack placed his phone on the table. He rubbed his neck.
Sally was at the beauty salon, preparing for the evening with him? If this were any other woman, he’d know exactly what that portended. With her, he had the feeling she polished her armor.
A grin stretched his lips. The salon, huh? If Sally didn’t care, she wouldn’t go to any trouble. She’d show up, dressed neatly but nothing special. At least, that’s the way the old Sally would react.
He stretched out on the couch. Could be she’d recognized the sexual tension remained for her, too. That put a whole new twist on the upcoming dinner.
****
Celeste’s highway sign indicated they were closed on Mondays after Labor Day. Sally figured she’d find an empty parking lot and Jack waiting with an apology. Given the cars parked out front, Celeste’s must have changed their schedule but not their small billboard.
She checked her lipstick using the rearview mirror and then slid from the car. Her stomach was empty, not in anticipation of the meal ahead but because she hadn’t been able to down either food or drink since she’d accepted Jack’s invitation.
Inside the door, the lack of chatter and bustle of servers made her rethink her earlier assumption. Her eyes adjusted and she saw the place stood empty. Well, except for the approaching man.
“Sally Ford? Your party is waiting.”
She struggled to understand why the man’s voice and face triggered a memory. He didn’t look the type to enter her store. The restaurant had always been out of her price range. Well, not really, but she hadn’t wanted to eat here alone, and none of the men she’d dated casually had suggested this as a destination. She must have seen him around town
She dismissed the niggling sense pestering her, focusing instead on the man waiting at a lake view table. Jack stood as she approached. His back was to the fading sunlight, hiding his expression. A wine stand held a still corked bottle.
The cozy scene sent her pulse skittering. She inhaled through her nose to hide her sudden breathlessness. What did Jack plan? And why had she agreed to this meeting?
She slid in to her chair, hoping her expression por
trayed calm. “Hello, Jack.”
“Sally.” He sat.
They stared at each other. The maître d’ cleared his throat. “Shall I pour?”
Jack jerked. He blinked. “Yes, thanks, Pete.”
Pete?
She focused on the man standing next to her with new intent. “Pete? As in Pete Hudson?”
He grinned and she recognized the young friend she remembered from the early days of living with Jack. No longer a beanpole, Pete had matured into a handsome, self-assured man with a clear complexion, and given his smooth movements, a set of muscles. He hadn’t bulked up so much as filled out. His eyes still held the same twinkle she remembered. Silver hair gleamed at his temples. No wonder his culinary classes were always sold out. The guy had charisma plus.
“Yep. I see by your dropped jaw you’re remembering the old Pete.” He wiped a hand down his jacket front. “I’ve changed a bit since you knew me.”
“I’ll say.”
“So that’s a nod of approval from the still gorgeous Sally? I had a big crush on you back then. Jack threatened to kick my butt more than once when he thought I was moving in on you.” He grinned. “I’m available if you want a different dinner companion.”
“Really? Slip me your phone number when you serve the first course. I can ditch this guy early. I’d like to hear what you’ve been up to all this time.”
“Balls. Just pour and get out, Pete.” Jack hadn’t raised his voice, but his tone spoke a library full of volumes.
Pete smirked. “He hasn’t changed much. The big man speaketh. Better listen.” Ice tinkled as Pete lifted the wine bottle from the stand. He expertly performed the opening and tasting. After filling both glasses, he gave a short bow and left.
She huffed. “That was rude. He’s your friend, not a servant.”
“Don’t worry. He put me in my place, as always.”
Her forehead wrinkled.
“That silent act,” Jack explained. “He knew he could get back at me through you. Don’t you remember? He used to pull the same thing years ago. He’d withdraw and you’d stand up for him.”
She leaned against her chair. Her thoughts rattled like a jalopy on a gravel road. She hadn’t seen either of these men for decades. Why had clear and detailed memories of them hanging together returned with a rush?
“I haven’t seen Pete since—” Since their wedding. She didn’t want to head down that beaten path. “Now that you mention it, I thought Pete was shy and sensitive. When he announced he was leaving to study at a French culinary school, well, I kind of thought he might be gay. Although I don’t think that now.”
A grin split Jack’s face. “Thanks, that’ll get Pete. Sorry to disappoint your plans for hooking up later, but Pete married a French woman. Celeste acts as hostess. They have two grown kids. A couple of grandkids. She’s babysitting tonight or she’d be here.”
“Really? Good for him. Them.”
Jack leaned forward, his long fingers wrapped around his wine glass. “So, do you want to chit chat about the weather and the view, or do you want to hold a real conversation? Or both? You decide.”
She’d always loved watching his hands. Oh, hell. Her wits resembled scrambled eggs instead of a working brain. She concentrated on not spilling her wine.
“You probably don’t want to talk about the books I sell in my store, or the theories and philosophies I use to live life.”
“Try me.”
She tried to gauge his expression but the shadows cast by the last rays of the sun entering through the window made it difficult to get a good read. “Okay, fine. What are your thoughts on using astrology as a guide to making decisions? How about developing your intuitive powers or listening to nature’s messages? Have you ever had a tarot reading? What do you think about quantum mechanics, multi-verses and string theory? Is time travel possible?”
He leaned back and smiled. “I’ll try to answer your questions, but don’t bust my chops if I miss one. First, I don’t use astrology, though I understand many people do. I think most creative people have developed their intuition, but I could be wrong. When I look out the window and see dark clouds, I figure nature is telling me it’s about to rain. No, I’ve never had a tarot reading and probably never will.”
He leaned forward. “As far as quantum mechanics, I watch Big Bang Theory reruns when I can. I figure whoever writes that stuff is smarter than I am, so I’ll let them think about all that.” He took a deep breath. “And finally, your last question about time travel.”
He held her gaze. She held her breath.
“If I could travel back in time and fix my mistakes, I’d do it. Faster than one of Jimmy Page’s chord changes.”
She stared sightlessly out the window then turned back. Jack gazed at her and sadness flickered across his expression. Did she really want to stir the ashes of their former relationship? She had a niggling feeling there might be some sparks left. Better play it safe.
“I see.” She faked a smile. “Then we’d better find common topics and stick with those.”
He finished off his wine. “Okay, fine. What do you think of the restaurant?”
“Thanks for asking me here. I’ve wanted to come for dinner or one of the classes, but haven’t.”
“I thought it would be a good place to thank you for Carlos.”
“I’m pretty sure we made him together.”
His lips curved up. “Yeah, we did. I meant raising him.” His smile disappeared. “I thought he’d be more angry about my leaving. He’s handled my reentry into his orbit better than I have.”
“Carlos is low-key and generous to a fault. He’s taught me a few things about forgiveness over the years.”
“I’m pretty sure he learned those lessons from you.”
She gulped. Her scratchy throat made an answer difficult.
As if reading her emotions, he veered to another topic. Their conversation flowed. They didn’t avoid controversial subjects, but the need to be right didn’t get the upper hand. Sally felt the years fall away, and her attraction to Jack grew as the night progressed. The candlelight, glass of wine, and good food left her feeling like a young girl enjoying dinner with a man she could love.
Love? She almost choked on the wine she’d sipped. No way she’d travel that road again, not with Jack. Even though sparks had flown since they’d met again, she hadn’t wanted to confront her feelings for Jack. Or his for her. Now was past time.
“Jack, I don’t understand what I’m—we’re—really doing here. Is this evening some misguided attempt to rewrite the past?”
“We agreed to have dinner to see if we could be friends, right?” He ran his fingers through his hair. “But, damn, I’ve been wanting to jump you for the past hour, and I’m pretty sure you feel the same. At least, the cues you’ve been giving me would have meant just that when we were married.”
She began a reply but changed her mind. He’d read the cues correctly, the ones she’d hoped she hadn’t been sending.
“Can you deny you have feelings for me? Because I sure as hell have some urges I’d like to act upon.” He swigged the last of his wine. “And right now, they’re more than friendly.”
Jack placed the empty glass carefully before him. “The main problem I have is understanding how to be friends with you. We don’t know much about each other. I’m not so sure the type of relationship friends build is possible with us.”
She kept her head down to hide the tears gathering at the backs of her eyes. Here’s where he blew her off, right after she’d realized—
He lifted her chin with one finger. “You may not believe this, but I haven’t always gotten everything I’ve wanted.” He sighed. “On the surface, yes. I’ve been lucky. Born with a talent and allowed to share it with the world. Money, prestige, and yes, beautiful women.” He looked out the window then back at her.
“I can’t deny that never mattered.” Jack leaned forward. “Those experiences brought me here, now. I can’t rewrite the past but I can c
reate a future. With Carlos and Abby.” He laid his palm over her hand. “And, I hope with you. Friends or more, it’s up to you.”
She attempted to swallow past the sandpaper lining her throat. “W-what do you mean?”
“You know. I can see it in your eyes. I’ve spent years trying to forget you. That will never happen.” He grasped her hand, lacing their fingers together. “I’ve thought about us, our mistakes, what we got right in the past several days. Let’s work our way back to trust. Or actually, find the trust we never had.”
She took a deep breath. Holy hello. She’d had way too much to drink. No way she’d heard correctly.
“If love can’t exist between us, spending time together may help us become the friends Carlos wants us to be.” His voice deepened. “I’m not the prodigal divorced husband, and I don’t want a fatted tofu calf, only an opportunity to figure out what’s up. Not for Carlos. For us.”
She smiled. She’d always loved his sense of humor. When they’d faced difficult times, their laughter had held them together, until finally laughter hadn’t been enough. “I think, I mean I believe you’re right. I can’t deny the attraction.” She tapped her lips with her finger. “Let’s start with being friends.”
His troubled expression cleared. “Okay. I can work with that, yeah. Friends talk on the phone, right? They text? So I’ll call from Arizona, we’ll talk. And plan get-togethers like tonight. Friends do stuff together. I’d like you to see my cottage.” He placed his other hand over both of theirs. “I’ll make sure you don’t regret giving me time.”
Sally’s thoughts wobbled like a bicycle wheel with missing spokes. Dang it, Jack had pulled her into his vortex again. Maybe this really was all about Jack and she’d misread him. Wouldn’t be the first time she’d erred. Her heart told her he meant his words, but she’d followed her heart before, right up to a bad ending. Now her brain suggested playing it safe. Maybe this time she should listen to her head.
Her chest hurt. Ignoring her heart wouldn’t work. She’d give him the time they both needed then wait to see what happened next.
Déjà Vu All Over Again Page 7