Still, Jessica thought, setting down her half-eaten sandwich and getting up from her chair, there was something about one’s mother that meant an understanding, a sympathy, that was irreplaceable.
It was still only eight o’clock. An hour or so difference in time zones wouldn’t matter. She dialed the number, then stood there drumming her fingers on the counter impatiently, listening to it ringing, and when her mother’s voice came on the line, tears came to her eyes.
“Hello, Mother,” she said. “It’s Jessica.”
There was a short silence. “Well,” came the distant reply. “This is a surprise. How are you, Jessica?”
“Oh, I’m fine. I just thought I’d let you know I’m staying on in Florida for a while.”
“I see. Any particular reason? Or just for the sunshine?”
Jessica laughed nervously. “Well, as a matter of fact, Mother, I have a job.”
Another longer silence. “A job?” her mother asked in a bewildered tone. “What kind of job?”
Jessica’s heart sank. It had been a mistake to call. She’d been foolish to expect any kind of understanding of what she was trying to do with her life from her strait-laced mother, who still believed that a woman was only an adjunct of her husband’s life, a social asset, a hostess, a mother to his children, but not much else.
“Well,” she replied faintly, “I’m afraid it’s not much, but it does make me feel good to earn money on my own.”
“But you don’t need money, Jessica,” her mother said with elaborate patience. “I’m sure Paul’s family are happy to take care of your needs, and you know you’re always welcome to come back to Boston and live at home again. In fact, I could use an extra pair of hands with this exhibit I’m organizing for the museum.”
She went on then into a long explanation of the trials and tribulations of finding adequate assistants, the recalcitrance of artists who refused to donate their services to such a worthy cause, the inevitable flare-ups of temper that only she could deal with.
Jessica stood there in a daze, listening to all the old familiar complaints and problems, the internecine warfare that always seemed to be a part of her mother’s good works, and she knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that she could never go back to that kind of life again. Finally there was a lull in the seemingly endless stream of words, and she seized her opportunity.
“Well, Mother,” she put in hastily, “I’m sure you’ll do your usual wonderful job and it will all turn out right in the end. Thank you for inviting me, but I think I’ll stay here for a while yet. The sunshine, you know,” she added wryly.
“Well, of course you must suit yourself, Jessica, and if it amuses you to play at this job of yours, I certainly won’t interfere. You really should consider Senator Trent’s position, however. If word got out that his daughter-in-law was working at a menial job, it might reflect on his reputation.”
“Oh, I’ll be very careful,” Jessica replied wearily. “I won’t inform the newspapers.” She took a deep breath and went on quickly before her mother got a chance to reply. “Well, it was nice talking to you, Mother. I’ll call again soon. Good-bye for now.”
Carefully, quietly, she hung up the receiver.
That conversation with her mother had made her more determined than ever to stick to her job, her new independent life, her very own apartment. Although she had bouts of loneliness, the sense of self-respect she’d gained made it worth it.
She didn’t see Luke again. He’d obviously gone on to his new job, and although she missed him, she knew it was just as well. There was no future for her there.
One evening a few weeks later, Greg Palmerston came into the cafeteria just as she was totaling up the day’s receipts and made straight for her counter.
“Hello, Jessica,” he said. “Got time for a cup of coffee?”
“Why, yes,” she replied with a smile. “Just let me put this away and lock the cash drawer first.”
Just then they were interrupted by a voice booming from the intercom above the door. “Dr. Palmerston. Paging Dr. Palmerston.”
Greg made a face. “Sorry, Jessica. Duty calls.”
“Of course,” she replied. “I understand.”
“What I really wanted was to ask you to have dinner with me again this Saturday. There’s a new Thai restaurant in Panama City that I hear is quite good. How about it?”
“Why, yes,” she replied. “I’d like that.”
When he was gone, Jessica went into the kitchen for a last cup of coffee. Millie was there, just winding up her nightly inspection. She flashed Jessica a meaningful grin.
“So,” she said archly. “I see you’ve made quite a hit with the good doctor. Congratulations. Every waitress here has tried, but it’s obvious you’re more his style.”
“And what does that mean?” Jessica asked lightly, pouring out coffee from the large metal urn.
Millie shrugged. “Oh, you know. Same background, same well-bred air. You could call it class.”
Jessica whirled around. “Why, Millie, I’m surprised at you. I hope I’ve never done or said anything to make you think...”
Millie held up a hand. “Oh, it’s nothing you’ve done. It just sticks out a mile, all over you. The way you walk, your tone of voice, the way you dress. Listen, I’m not passing judgment, and I don’t mean to sound critical. If you’ve got it, flaunt it, is what I always say. Anyway, you two obviously belong together. I’m happy for you. And for him. He’s a nice guy.”
“Yes. I think so too.”
“In fact,” Millie went on, a little hesitantly this time, “I’d much rather see you get involved with him than with Luke Fury.” She shook her head. “That man only spells trouble.”
Jessica frowned. “Now, what makes you bring him up? There’s no connection between us.”
“Oh?” Millie raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “Listen, kiddo, I’ve seen the two of you together, and I’ve known Luke a long time. He gets a certain look in his eye when he’s on the prowl. Believe me, you’d be a real challenge to him, and to men like Luke, a challenge is like a nice chunk of steak to a hungry dog.”
“Well, you don’t need to worry about that,” Jessica replied firmly. “There never has been anything between Luke Fury and me and there never will be. You can count on that.”
Millie started toward the door. “I’m glad to hear it,” she called over her shoulder. Then she stopped and turned around. “Just don’t protest too much, Jessica,” she added in a softer tone.
When she was gone, Jessica stood there, her untouched coffee cooling in her hands. What had brought that on? What had made Millie think there even might be something going on between her and Luke? Of course, she added to herself, reddening slightly, she hadn’t told Millie the whole truth. But that was in the past, a closed book. No need to say anything about it.
Her dinner date with Greg went off pretty much as she’d expected. He was such a predictable man that she could relax around him. In that respect, Millie was right. He was so much like the men she’d known all her life, with his familiar little courtesies and conversation.
But wasn’t that exactly what she’d stayed in Florida to get away from? Paul had been just such a nice well-bred man on the surface, knew all the right things to do, at ease in every social situation. So was her father-in-law, Senator Trent. And yet it was Paul who had deceived her, the senator who had moved heaven and earth to cover up the truth about his son’s death.
Luke Fury, on the other hand, was the most unpredictable person she’d ever met. Gruff and curt one moment, passionate and caring the next. She’d seen his softer side, the deep reserves of tenderness and vulnerability he tried so hard to hide.
However, they were worlds apart in everything that mattered. He seemed to think of love as a game, played for temporary amusement, then abandoned when it was won, while to her it was deeply serious. Then why, she asked herself bitterly, did she find it impossible to get him off her mind?
It was June now, and g
rowing warmer each day, even on the balmy Gulf Coast. On her next day off, Jessica followed her usual routine. She spent most of the morning cleaning the apartment, then after a late lunch, showered and got ready to go out and take a short walk on the nearby public beach before doing her week’s grocery shopping. She always dressed carefully whenever she went out in public, a habit firmly-instilled in her from early childhood.
She’d recently bought two inexpensive cotton sundresses to wear when she went out on her errands. Today she chose the white one, a simple shift, loose-fitting, the low neckline cut square across and held up by two thin straps, and set off her deepening tan nicely. She slipped her feet into a pair of low-heeled sandals, gathered up her straw handbag and went out into the street.
The bright sunlight was dazzling, and she stood there for a moment, squinting. Then, just as she reached into her bag for her sunglasses she noticed the car parked directly in front of her building, the tall dark-haired man leaning back against it, his arms folded across his chest.
It couldn’t be, she thought, staring, but as he pushed himself away from the car and started walking slowly toward her, she knew it was Luke. He looked marvelous, dressed in a pair of black chinos that set off his long legs and narrow hips, and a white knit shirt that revealed strong tanned arms. The gold streaks in his dark hair glinted in the sunlight.
He was smiling broadly at her, one hand raised in greeting. “How about a lift?” he said, coming to stand before her.
She slipped her dark glasses on and looked up at him. “Hello, Luke,” she said quietly. “When did you get back?”
“Just last night.”
“Then I take it the job in Japan is finished.”
He nodded. “For now.”
She couldn’t help smiling. “And how long have you been out here lying in wait for me?” she asked.
He glanced at his watch. “Oh, about half an hour. Well? How about it? Where are you off to?”
“I was just on my way to the beach,” she explained. “It’s cooler there. Then there’s grocery shopping.”
He stopped and put a hand lightly on her arm. “Fine,” he said, falling into step beside her. “We’ll go for that walk first, then I’ll help you with your shopping.”
She gazed up at him, hesitant, frowning. Once again he’d simply taken charge. He too was wearing dark glasses, so that she couldn’t quite make out the expression on his face.
“Come on, Jessica,” he said in a low coaxing voice. “I won’t bite. Besides, there are a few things we need to discuss.” He gave her a rather grim smile. “If you recall, we didn’t part on the best of terms, and it’s been on my mind.”
They were standing in the middle of the busy sidewalk, obstructing the pedestrian traffic, people jostling past them, a few with rather angry mutterings about owning the sidewalk. She had to make up her mind quickly. Somehow, the prospect of a solitary walk didn’t appeal nearly as much as it had before he showed up.
“All right,” she said at last.
“Good.” He grasped her more firmly by the arm and they set off together toward the beach.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE PUBLIC beach was quite crowded, mostly with families. There seemed to be hordes of children, playing ball, splashing in the surf, building sand castles, chasing each other and screaming. Jessica and Luke stood at the end of the path for a moment watching, and when she gave him a questioning look, his face creased in a heavy frown.
“Let’s try a little farther up,” he said, taking her firmly by the arm. “Away from those dratted kids.”
“Don’t you like children?” she asked as they started walking away from the crowd.
“Only in small doses,” was the flat reply.
“But surely you must want your own some day.” He gave her a startled look, then snorted loudly. “Who me? Some father I’d make! To be a good father, one needs to have had some experience of paternal love.”
“Not necessarily. It’s even possible a fatherless man could be an even better parent to his own children. You know, make up for what he’d missed.”
“That’s just pop psychology, and coming from a woman who’s had all the advantages of an ideal childhood, I’m afraid it doesn’t cut much ice with me.” Although he was smiling down at her, there was a hard edge to his voice.
“That’s not quite fair,” she protested. “You know nothing about my childhood. There are lots of ways of being disadvantaged. I grew up in a straitjacket, suffocated by tradition and what was expected of me. It only made me even more anxious not to raise my own children that way.”
He didn’t say anything for a while, but when he spoke again she knew she hadn’t made a dent in his thinking. “You could be right, I suppose,” he said at last. “But even if I were slated to become the best parent in the world, my job takes me away so much of the time I wouldn’t be much use to children, not to mention its more dangerous aspects.”
He had a look on his face that she’d learned meant the subject was closed, and they continued to walk slowly along the water’s edge in silence, the fine white sand crunching under their feet until they finally reached an area where the beach was less crowded, with only a few children and their parents splashing in the clear, blue-green water. The tide was coming in, and as the gentle surf encroached, they gradually moved over to the narrow path beneath the long row of tall palm trees.
They stopped at a high chain link fence that separated the public beach from its neighbor, and Luke stopped, pointed to the low outcropping of rock beside it under the shade of a giant gnarled live oak tree.
“Shall we sit down for a while?” he asked.
“Yes. I could stand a breather.”
She turned to survey the distance they had come, raising a hand to her forehead for protection against the dazzling sun, now, in late afternoon, still high in the sky. When she turned back to him, he had removed his dark glasses and was staring at her intently, his expression grave. As their eyes met, something seemed to catch in her throat, and for a moment she faltered under that steady scrutiny.
Then she said lightly, “I can see now why I’m so tired. We’ve come quite a long way.”
She started past him toward the rocks, half-expecting him to reach out for her, and her heart began to beat a little faster. Whatever it was she was feeling, he clearly felt it too. That look they’d exchanged had been full of meaning. But he only fell into step beside her, and they sat down next to each other, not touching.
There was something hypnotizing about the steady pounding beat of the surf, wave upon wave rolling in over the sparkling sand; then receding to start the process all over again. Although they didn’t speak, the still, humid air seemed to crackle between them.
To break the tension, she turned to him and broached a neutral subject. “Tell me about Japan.”
“All right. What do you want to know?”
She laughed. “Everything. I’ve never been there, but I hear it’s a delightful place, and very beautiful.”
“Yes, it is, although I didn’t have much spare time to enjoy the sights. I was kept pretty busy on the job.”
“And what was that?”
He gave her a dubious look. “Are you sure you’re interested? Most women find my job either boring or gruesome.” He gave her that heart-stopping look again. “But then, you’re not most women, are you, Jessica?”
That intense green gaze was setting up a familiar disturbance, and she looked away. “Oh, I’m really quite ordinary,” she said with a laugh. “And in any case, I really do want to hear about it.”
“Well, let’s see. There had been a collision between two light planes at a small airport just outside Tokyo, and they called me in to investigate, try to discover the cause.”
“And did you?”
“I think so. At least the Japanese officials were satisfied. They actually had it pretty well figured out themselves, and only needed me for corroboration of their own findings.”
“You like your work, do
n’t you?”
“Oh, yes. Very much. Not only the job itself, but the fact that it takes me to such interesting parts of the world.”
“Yet you said yourself it’s dangerous.”
He shrugged. “Yes, it can be, especially if I have to test a damaged plane, but I don’t dwell on that aspect of it.”
No, she thought, smiling to herself, I’ll bet you don’t. In fact, if she knew anything about Luke Fury, the danger was probably the most attractive aspect of his job.
“Well,” she said aloud. “You’re obviously very good at it.”
He gave a short dry laugh. “Whatever success I’ve had is certainly a far cry from what everyone expected would become of me. I don’t think the poor nuns at St. Bridget’s Children’s Home have recovered to this day from what I put them through as a kid.”
“It couldn’t have been that bad,” she chided. “Surely you must have had some redeeming qualities.”
He flashed her a grin. “Nope,” he replied. “Not a one.” Then his face darkened. “I was so damned angry all the time,” he said almost under his breath. “It just seemed as though no once...” He waved a dismissive hand in the air. “But that’s all water under the bridge.” He inched closer to her, their bodies just barely touching now. “I’d much rather talk about you.”
“Now that is the most boring subject in the world,” she said with a laugh.
She deliberately made her tone lighthearted, but even as she spoke she was searching his face, wondering what it was he’d been about to say. It just seemed as though no one—what?
It could only be one thing. As an abandoned child, surely he must have believed no one had loved him. Then typically, the moment he touched on the pain of his childhood, he veered away from it, covered it over with the hard shell that had become second nature to him and quickly changed the subject.
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