by Susan Meier
“Jack, let’s call our three days together a stupidity draw and forget it.”
With that she rose, wrenched her all-weather coat from her coat tree and walked to her office door. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Life was easier now that everybody thought she’d moved on. But it certainly wasn’t better. In fact, it felt a whole hell of a lot worse because at least before she could hope for a breakthrough or a miracle.
Now she had nothing.
Now she understood it really was over.
Chapter Eleven
“In spite of the fact that it started off rather awkwardly, this has been a wonderful two weeks, Molly.”
Molly glanced up from her lunch and studied her mother. They had decided to spend their final Saturday afternoon together browsing at the local mall while her father played golf, but Darcy Doyle nonetheless wore a trim navy pantsuit with a yellow silk blouse and a paisley scarf accent. Dressed in natural fit jeans with a short white sweater, Molly felt one notch underdressed. But she was comfortable, and after two weeks of living together in a cramped apartment, she was starting to believe her parents were getting comfortable with her, too.
Particularly since she asked them to stop giving her advice.
“It has been a wonderful two weeks, Mom.”
“Great! Let’s pay the check and see how much money we can spend before your father gets home.”
Smiling, Molly nodded and rose, but as she did, her gaze collided with a pair of laughing green eyes. Dr. Tim.
And right beside him was Jack—carrying a shopping bag.
“Hey, Molly,” Tim said as he strode over, both hands extended.
Molly reached out to take his hands, but he more or less brushed the move aside and enveloped her in a warm hug. “You look terrific.”
“I feel better, too,” Molly said as he examined her face. “See, I’m single again.”
Tim laughed. “Yeah, well, I think that’s a crying shame.”
“Mother,” Molly said. “This is Dr. Tim...”
“O‘Brien,” Dr. Tim helpfully supplied. “I’m Tim O’Brien.”
“He’s the friend of Jack’s who examined me while I was sick to make sure there was nothing really wrong with me.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Darcy said, offering her hand. “Thank you for taking care of my daughter.”
“I can’t believe I’m shaking the hand of Darcy Doyle,” Tim said excitedly. “I’ve listened to some of your tapes. You. took four strokes off my golf game with your message on imaging and muscle memory.”
By this time Jack had arrived at their table. He’d walked slower than Tim had, mostly, Molly speculated, because he wasn’t sure of the reception he’d get.
“Molly. Mrs. Doyle.”
“You can call me Darcy,” Molly’s mother said as she shook Jack’s hand. “I now understand that you were a perfect gentleman and that you took good care of my daughter.”
“Well. your daughter helped me out quite a bit. In two days I completely furnished my house.”
Yes, he had, Molly remembered. She recalled it vividly, clearly. Worse, she remembered the feelings. The giddy, airy wonderful feeling of being Mrs. Jack Cavanaugh and shopping for furniture. Making a home with the man she loved.
“The only things I need now are towels and linens. I was shopping for those.”
Molly gave the bag he held a look of longing. The yearning sprang up quickly, and with it came a strong sense of injustice. It didn’t seem fair that she could furnish a house with love and affection and not get to live there. It didn’t seem fair that she could get a glimpse of heaven and not be allowed to stay.
Darcy peered at her watch. “Oh, goodness, Molly, look at the time. We only have an hour before your father gets home. Jack, Tim, I’m so glad I had the opportunity to thank you both, but we have to run.”
“It’s been a pleasure meeting you,” Dr. Tim said.
A little disoriented and completely sad, Molly reached beside her chair to grab her purse as Jack’s best friend continued to charm her mother.
“I’m glad we ran into each other,” Jack said. “I didn’t like having you think the worst, particularly since nothing had happened.”
His voice sounded as open and vulnerable as the way Molly felt inside, but when she snuck a peek at him she saw he was smiling—really smiling—and she knew her decision to keep her feelings to herself was right on the money. Though it splintered her heart to realize she’d made no impact on Jack Cavanaugh’s life except to force him to buy new linens and towels, at least she wasn’t making a fool of herself anymore.
“We’d better get going, Mother,” she said, and directed her mother around the table. “Have a nice lunch,” she said to Tim and Jack before she strode away.
Molly and her mother paid their bill and stepped into the mall concourse. Neither said anything for a few seconds as they turned to the right and began strolling toward a department store. Finally Darcy said, “I like your friend Jack, Molly. I can understand why you would have found him attractive. I agree that he would make an adorable father.”
Molly drew a deep breath. “But?”
“But—and I’m speaking as your mother here, not as a psychiatrist—it’s time to move on.”
Though Molly had already figured that out, seeing how happy Jack was had reenforced the decision. “I am.”
“I don’t think so,” Darcy disagreed. “I know you asked your father and me not to help anymore, but it’s obvious to me that you’re still floundering, and I think I know why.”
Molly squeezed her eyes shut, hoping her mother wasn’t about to say that it was obvious that she was still in love with Jack.
“You put all your eggs in one basket, so to speak.” Darcy continued. “And now that that basket’s gone, you’re lost.”
Uncomfortable, because she wasn’t quite sure what her mother was driving at, Molly swallowed. “I’m not lost.”
“Molly, after four years of investing everything into one project—any project—anybody would be lost until they found something to replace it.”
That made so much sense that Molly felt a spark of belief that she might get over this feeling of complete hopelessness. “And,” she prodded when her mother fell silent.
“And,” her mother repeated, “what you have to do is find something to occupy your mind. It could be work. It could be a hobby. It could be redoing your apartment. But you need something right now to fill the blank spaces. Something to think about, to wish for, when you used to wish about him.”
That was the first objective, concrete guidance that anyone had given her. Up until this piece of wisdom, her parents, her friends, even Mike the mailman had missed the real problem.
She needed something to occupy her time...and her mind.
It was so simple, it was wonderful.
And it made so much sense that after Molly’s parents fell asleep that night, she considered her options, In the end she deduced that what she needed to do was focus on her career. She wasn’t quite sure how, because the advertising department was small and well structured and she didn’t believe there was room for advancement.
But she had an education and now she had both ambition and drive. Staying in the same job suddenly seemed ludicrous to her. She couldn’t envision not advancing, and yet she knew she didn’t have anywhere to go at Barrington.
A small stab of disappointment struck her. She didn’t want to leave her friends, but she also couldn’t stay at Barrington anymore. In a way, it was probably for the best because she wouldn’t have to worry about dealing with Jack Cavanaugh. But she hated to think that a man was actually driving her away.
She decided he wasn’t. Ambition was driving her away. Goals were moving her forward.
Though she’d go through the motions and see Patricia first thing Monday morning and put herself in the running for whatever promotion was available, Molly knew she had to face the uncomfortable truth. She’d only stayed at Barrington
for Jack Cavanaugh. Now that he was out of her life, she would have to leave Barrington.
Late Sunday afternoon, Jack arrived at Molly’s apartment building just in time to see her stuffing her parents’ suitcases into the trunk of her white Lexus. A rush of relief washed through him when he realized that he’d dodged another bullet. He wasn’t exactly sure how he would have explained his presence to her parents. He wasn’t entirely sure he could explain it to himself. He simply knew he couldn’t live like this anymore.
He thought he could handle Molly’s anger, and in a certain sense he was handling Molly’s anger, but the wounded look he’d seen in her eyes the day before at the shopping mall haunted him. He hadn’t slept, he hadn’t eaten. And, damn it, he hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d done nothing to deserve this.
Nonetheless, he knew he was going to have to straighten it out because of the two involved parties, he was the older, wiser one. And Molly was vulnerable. Still confused. If you looked at this rationally, she’d been sick for nearly a week. While she was sick—defenseless—she’d believed she was married to Jack, and he’d taken care of her. It was no wonder she continued to look at him with odd, delicate emotions clouding her beautiful hazel eyes. This situation between them wasn’t settled. Not by a long shot.
Jack completely ignored the little voice that taunted him with a reminder of how lonely his house was without Molly, and suggested that her injured expression from the day before was a very convenient excuse to visit her, spend time with her. Instead of paying any attention at all to such nonsense, he casually chose to drive to a diner to wait for her while she took her parents to the airport. Remembering he hadn’t eaten since dinner with Dr. Tim the night before, and acknowledging he could finally eat, Jack ordered a meal, commandened a newspaper and settled in to pass at least two hours of time.
When he returned to Molly’s apartment, the light was beginning to fade. Because her car was white, he easily spotted it in one of the spaces provided for her building. He parked his Blazer across the street and got out, now damning the little voice that mocked him for being so excited at the prospect of seeing her. He couldn’t deny the jumpy feeling in the pit of his stomach any more than he could deny he had a lonely life. but it was the life he’d chosen.
As for the jumpy feeling, well, he never tried to analyze something that had no real purpose.
Walking toward the entryway, he concluded it was his own familiarity with loneliness that had him aching for Molly. If losing someone she loved was new to Molly, then she was probably in terrible pain right now. Helping her alleviate that suffering wasn’t merely kind, it was smart. Because the sooner she fell back into her normal emotional routine, the better for both of them.
She answered her door seconds after Jack’s brisk knock, but he hardly registered her surprise. Before he had a chance to check his reaction, his gaze swept over her, taking in her soft yellow hair, peaches and cream complexion and all the curves accented and outlined by a shimmery pink satin robe that unintentionally showcased her legs. The garment was long, nearly to the floor, but because its single connector was a belt, a thin strip of white skin was exposed from her ankle to her thigh.
He swallowed. Without a doubt, she was the sexiest woman he’d ever met.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, not inviting him in, but leaning on her door as if to tell him that was the farthest he was getting.
“Excuse me?” he said, not because he didn’t understand what she’d meant, but because her legs had more or less caused him to miss what she’d said. Nobody had ever looked so good to him in all his life.
“I asked what you’re doing here.”
He cleared his throat. What was he doing here? Could he tell her he was worried about her...or would that make her mad? Could he tell her things weren’t settled between them...and possibly give her the wrong impression? Especially after the way he’d been gawking at her legs?
Stifling the urge to scrub his hand over his mouth, Jack drew a long breath. “Actually, there are some work things I’d like to talk about with you, and I didn’t think they could wait until morning.”
Her expression thoughtful, she stepped away from the door, allowing him entry. Jack felt the temperature increase by at least ten degrees and tugged at the collar of his shirt. He supposed in the recesses of his mind he’d expected her to refuse to talk with him. Or maybe he’d hoped she’d refuse to talk with him. Now he was entering her living room, and she was wearing a hot pink robe—a slim-fitting, form-hugging, sexy satin robe.... He was a crazy man, an absolute crazy man, for coming to the home of a woman to whom he was unreasonably attracted.
Yanking his rational self from its shrinking position behind his hormones, Jack took the seat she offered with a wave of her hand. In spite of her very casual attire, she looked elegant, sophisticated and older. Much older, much wiser, than the woman he’d encountered in the mall yesterday. He wondered if he’d imagined what he’d seen in her eyes the day before, then realized that he hadn’t. Healing was a process. He’d obviously caught her on a bad day. Today must be a good day. Which meant he was in her apartment with nothing to say.
He cleared his throat.
She leaned back in her chair, crossed her long, long legs and stared at him. “So, what’s the big work issue you and I need to discuss?”
Jack racked his nearly nonfunctioning brain. He tried desperately to think about work, but in spite of the fact that she’d overlapped the two sides of her robe, effectively closing the gap, his gaze and his focus kept returning to her legs. Recognizing this was about as close to sexual harassment as a person could get without actually doing anything, Jack straightened up. He shoved his mind into gear and refused to be a drooling idiot, just because Molly was incredibly beautiful. He knew her to be a strong, capable, organized woman....
“I’ve come to offer you a new job,” he said, relieved that his mind finally wrapped around something solid and realistic and something that could get him out of this—not merely gracefully, but heroically.
“What?” she asked, perplexed.
“I had a proposition for you the night you hit your head.” Jack continued easily, back in control again, “but with everything that happened I couldn’t ask.”
Molly gave him a puzzled look. “You had a proposition for me?”
“You’re smart, you’re organized, you’re capable. I thought that if you’d be willing to serve as my assistant for a few months, we could intensify your training and ultimately give you the knowledge and skills to lead a portion of the department on your own.”
“I’d have my own department?”
“No. But you’d run a section of this department. You’d answer to me. I’d answer for you to the Barringtons.”
Delight replaced every other emotion Jack thought he had read in her expression. “You’re kidding.”
“No,” Jack said, his relief so intense, he felt he could dissolve in a puddle at her feet. “All this isn’t going to happen overnight,” he added cautiously, and rose to pace her living room. She had him nervous—awfully, awfully nervous—but he was also so damn glad he was rectifying the situation between them that he had the uncanny urge to kiss her... in a celebratory manner, of course. He remembered the easy, casual way she continually kissed him when she thought they were married. Those kisses weren’t passion-filled masterpieces, but demonstrations of affection between friends. He had liked them, really liked them, and he missed them. But at this point any kiss was dangerous. That’s why he needed to pace.
“But eventually I’m hoping to separate advertising and public relations. What we’re doing now is a stepping stone for you to take over public relations.”
She gasped, clasping her hands on her chest. “You’re kidding.”
“No,” he said, and smiled because this enthusiastic worker was the Molly he’d dealt with for the past four years. He knew she was a smart, skilled woman whose enthusiasm was tempered with sensibility. So what if he also now knew she ha
d soft skin, smooth hands, hair that slid through a man’s fingers like fine silk.... So what if he also knew she was an erotic, sensual kisser....
Reminding himself that she was an erotic, sensual kisser was the worst possible thing to do. His wayward anatomy reacted immediately to the mere memory of one of her toescorching kisses, but more than that, all the temptations tormenting him returned full force. In that second, he felt he’d do anything, absolutely anything, to kiss her again. But realizing that, Jack knew his odd yearnings had crossed a line.
He didn’t want a relationship with her. He didn’t want to marry her or have the children she coveted so badly. He couldn’t. He just couldn’t. He didn’t believe in the permanence of marriage anymore, and a woman like Molly needed the fairy tale.
He glanced at Molly and again saw the delight in her eyes and knew it wasn’t there because she was having wayward thoughts about him, but because of the promotion. What she really needed and expected from him was a solid, strong work relationship.
Furious with himself for being so weak-willed. Jack pulled himself together again.
“Anyway. I’m glad you’re agreeing.”
“Of course I’m agreeing,” she said, her eyes shining. “This opportunity is perfect.”
Funny, but though it had seemed perfect the night of her accident, suddenly, making her his assistant didn’t seem all that wonderful to Jack. In fact, if anything it was a letdown that she’d accepted. If she could so easily work as his assistant, it proved that she had no residual feelings. And although that was good it was odd, awkward.
“I’m glad you’re happy.”
“I’m very happy.” she said, meeting his gaze, and disappointment returned to Jack full force. It almost seemed as if he missed her infatuation with him....
Which was ridiculous. That infatuation had been nothing but troubles. Look what his own attraction had done to him. It made him crazy. It actually had him thinking that one of his best, most sound decisions might not be valid anymore....
“So, when do I start this new job?” she asked quietly.