Pretty Woman

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Pretty Woman Page 27

by Fern Michaels


  “I promise,” Jack said solemnly. “Will you marry me?”

  This time Rosie had no trouble making her tongue and voice work. “Oh, yes. A thousand times, yes. I want that more than anything.” She wished she had the nerve to hop up on the table and shout to the other diners that the wonderful man sitting across from her had just proposed marriage. She knew her eyes were wet, but she didn’t care.

  “Me too,” Jack said hoarsely. “Then it’s settled. When exactly will your divorce be final?”

  “February fourteenth. Valentine’s Day.”

  “Then we’re getting married on February fifteenth,” Jack declared.

  Rosie felt a warm flush flood her entire body. In her life she’d never been as happy as she was at that moment. “O-kayyy.”

  Jack reached across the table to take both of Rosie’s hands in his own. “If you’re half as happy as I am right this minute, then we are on the first step to heaven.”

  Rosie squeezed his hands. Poor thing, he looked so flustered. She laughed again, and he smiled.

  “I want lots of kids!” Jack blurted.

  Rosie’s eyes twinkled. “Do you now?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “How many is lots?”

  “A houseful of little Rosies and little Jacks. Some dogs, a couple of cats, maybe a bird that sings in the morning. It’s my dream for us, Rosie. I want us to live out on the river. Can you see yourself living out there?”

  Could she? She wanted that as much as Jack did. “Oh, yes. What about…?”

  “Martha? It’s all right, Rosie. I’ll put away all the pictures and pack up her things. Anything less would be unfair to you.”

  “Oh, no! I don’t want you to do that until you’re really ready to do it. I would like you to keep that painting you have of her on the swing. I’m not jealous of her, Jack. If anything, I feel…I don’t know what the word is, maybe, kinship or something with her. Another time, another place, had we met, I think she and I might have been friends. If her spirit lives on there, it’s okay with me. It will be like she’s watching over us and our family.”

  “God Almighty, how did I get so lucky as to meet you?” Jack said, looking awestruck.

  “I don’t have the answer to that, but what I do know is that the day you rang my doorbell was the best day of my life. Even though I hated your guts when you left.”

  The waiter arrived with their food, saving Jack from a retort.

  Dinner passed in a blur for Rosie. Later, she couldn’t even remember how the food tasted. All she could think of was the ring in the little black box and Jack’s proposal.

  Rosie started to get jittery all over again as Jack paid the bill. She should have told him about Kent.

  Jack frowned as he cupped her elbow in the palm of his hand to usher her through the crowded restaurant. Something was bothering the love of his life. Something she wasn’t ready to talk about with him.

  “Let’s go get that watermelon.”

  Rosie sighed. If only a watermelon could solve her problems. If only.

  Jack pretended to huff and puff as he carried the fifteen-pound watermelon into Rosie’s kitchen, where Buddy pounced on them both. They stopped long enough to tussle with the big dog before Jack picked up one of Luna Mae’s wicked-looking carving knives. Rosie blanched when she saw that it was the same one she’d gone after Kent with.

  “We need aprons,” Rosie said.

  “Yesss, we do!” Jack said as he plopped the huge melon into the stainless-steel sink. He waited while Rosie put hers on and tied another one around his waist. They were both bright yellow with orange sunflowers. “Very chic!” he said, as he whacked the melon with the knife.

  Rosie took a deep breath. “Would you look atall those seeds! How…how long is this going to take?”

  Jack grinned as he perched himself on the counter. “As long as it takes. My father and I eventually decided it all depends on how stressed you are. Maybe we should have boughttwo.” A wicked grin played around the corners of his mouth.

  “I think one will do. I need a smaller knife.” Jack handed over a paring knife with an easy-grip handle. Rosie dug into the watermelon with a vengeance. Jack watched, offering up advice when it came to the two thick rows of black seeds.

  “Just scoop that right to the end, then run the knife…”

  “Shut up, Jack! Whose stress reliever is this anyway, yours or mine? I hate wasting food with all the starving people in the world. Are you sure these seeds won’t clog up the garbage disposal?”

  “I have no idea. My mother didn’t have a disposal when I was little. She just scooped out the seeds and put them in the trash. You do know you’re supposed to cut up a lemon and run it through the disposal to take away the odors, don’t you?”

  Rosie flicked one of the thick black seeds at him. He caught it with an expertise that surprised her.

  “So, is it working?” Jack winked. “Are you experiencing less stress?”

  Rosie eyed the luscious melon and the rows of black seeds in front of her. There had to be at least a million of them.That was stress. She flicked another seed at him. Her gaze went to the two bowls full of the seedless melon. Maybe the seniors over at Vickie’s would like it for lunch tomorrow.

  “Rosie, did I tell you I hate watermelon?”

  Rosie clenched her teeth. “At least ten times,” she muttered. Suddenly a devil perched itself on her shoulder. Instead of digging her knife into the melon, she dropped it and reached down to scoop a handful of the pink fruit into her hand. She looked at Jack, then pitched it, hitting him smack in the nose. He howled his outrage as his hand dipped into one of the bowls. Rosie took the hit high on her cheekbone.

  All hell broke loose, with Buddy running for cover as chunks of watermelon sailed in all directions. From his position at the side of the refrigerator Buddy could see his mistress take aim and pepper the man who was growling until he yelled for mercy.

  “Who’s going to clean this up?” Jack demanded. He answered himself by saying, “Since I don’t live here, I guess it’s you! Would you look at that ceiling!” A chunk of rind clunked him on his ear. “Okay, that’s it! Now you’re in for it.”

  “It? Is that what you said, it? No, no, this was your idea! I used to like watermelon. I am probably never, ever, going to eat watermelon again.” Rosie danced away from Jack’s outstretched arm. She saw him sway, windmill his arms, and then he was flat on his back and sliding across the slippery floor. In her wild dance to get away, Rosie, too, went down on one knee. She was reaching for one of the legs of the chair to get back on her feet when she felt herself slide backward. She struggled to roll over until she realized what was happening, at which point she rolled back over on top of Jack. Then she did what she’d always wanted a man to do to her, she took the initiative. Her mouth found his and she kissed him hard. When she came up for air, all she could see were Jack’s glazed eyes.

  A heartbeat later he was on his feet, and she was in his arms as he carried her up the stairs to her bedroom.

  They shed their clothes quickly. And then they were on the bed, both of them burning with the desire to please each other. His hands were hot, searching, hers just as fiery and demanding. “Now,” she gasped. “Now!”

  Rosie woke with a start. For a moment she felt disoriented until she saw Jack standing in the doorway. He blew her a kiss that she returned. Buddy hopped onto the bed and proceeded to nuzzle her neck. She smiled as she tickled him behind the ears.

  Jack returned to poke his head in the doorway. “Rosie, I don’t want you running this morning. Do the treadmill. The rain is coming down in torrents, and the wind is whipping up. I think this is the tail end of the tropical disturbance they were talking about on the news. Promise me.”

  “I promise,” Rosie said huskily.

  “With all this rain, you can use your spare time to clean your kitchen. I’ll call you.” He ducked just in time to avoid getting clunked by the small travel clock on the bedside stand.

  Jack lau
ghed all the way to his car. He couldn’t remember ever feeling happier.

  Life took on a whole new meaning as the days and weeks passed. Rosie worked out with a vengeance from sunup to sundown, oftentimes forgetting to eat as she dropped off to sleep, only to wake up and start all over again.

  She was returning home now from her latest physical, having been told she was in the best physical shape of her life. She was down to her desired weight, topping the scale at a mere 122 pounds. Dr. Benton said he was going to put a little side wager on her to win the race. Rosie felt her chest puff out with pride at his words.

  Rosie fit the key into the lock, turned off the alarm, and headed for the coffeepot. She’d had to fast before getting her blood work done, and she was not only thirsty but starving as well. She’d just pressed the button for the coffee to start to drip when the phone rang. “Hello!…Luna Mae! Oh, my God, is it really you, Luna Mae? Where have you been? I’ve been calling and writing, and Jack even went to Indianapolis to find you. I’m pissed, Luna Mae! Say something! Are you all right?”

  Rosie listened as Luna Mae explained that she’d gone to California with Curly to meet his brothers and sisters, who numbered eleven in the family tree. “They love me,” she chortled.

  “Why wouldn’t they love you? You’re a wonderful person when you aren’t being thoughtless and uncaring. Do you have any idea how worried we’ve been? I know how old you are, and that you can take care of yourself.” Rosie burst into tears. In between sobs, she blubbered, “You’re supposed to be here to see me run and Jack has an engagement ring for me and he asked me to marry him. I wanted to call you and tell you, but you were…off meeting the family tree…. Of course I’m jealous. I love you like a mother, Luna Mae…. Oh, you got the invitation and all the piled-up mail. What does that mean?…You are! You’re really coming home! With Curly. You want to get married here in the house. Curly is retiring, and you and he are going to take care of me and Jack? Are you just saying that to shut me up or is it true?…True! Oh, God, Luna Mae, it is going to be so good to see you. Are you happy?…You’re delirious? That’s good…. You’re going to cheer me on at the race?…Kent who?” Rosie laughed.

  Ten minutes later when Rosie hung up, she sat down and cried with happiness. “She’s coming back, Buddy. She’s going to take care of us again. Not that we didn’t do okay by ourselves, but it just wasn’t the same without her.” Buddy sat at attention, listening to his mistress. At one point, he raced across the kitchen to the door of Luna Mae’s room, where he barked and pawed the door.

  “Yes, Luna Mae is coming back. Guess you’ll soon be getting all those treats she used to give you. This is wonderful, absolutely wonderful.”

  While Rosie sipped at her coffee, she dialed Vickie’s and Jack’s numbers to relay the good news. Neither one of them picked up their cell phones. She left a happy, cheerful message on both cells.

  Before Rosie changed into her running clothes, she peeled and ate a hard-boiled egg, a fat-free yogurt, a banana, and a protein bar. Buddy chomped on a cheddar cheese stick.

  Rosie Gardener’s world was right side up.

  Finally.

  No one was more surprised than Jack Silver when he parked in the gym lot to see Kent Bliss waiting patiently for him to open the door. They made small talk as they walked side by side to the back entrance.

  “Early day, Kent?”

  “On a gray, miserable, rainy day like this no one wants to look at houses. Might as well work out. How’s it going? Anyone new signing up for the race?”

  “Don Connors signed up yesterday morning, but I haven’t posted his name yet. There are a few others that need to be posted also. Time just seems to be getting away from me these days. It’s going to be an impressive race this year. Just about everyone in town has entered. Good causes and all that. I doubt very much if more than a handful will cross the final finish line.”

  “You could be wrong, Jack. Most of the guys at the gym are pretty competitive. The women have their own reasons for wanting to beat us guys. I think it’s going to be one lively race.”

  Why in the hell is this guy being so chatty?Jack wondered. The past few weeks he’s seemed like a different person. Jack knew for a fact that Kent wasn’t messing around because Heather Daniels constantly quizzed him about Kent’s whereabouts. Hillary called on a daily basis checking on him, too. When Jack told Kent about the calls, he didn’t seem interested. That alone was more puzzling than the change in his manner. However, it didn’t change the fact that as far as Jack was concerned, Kent still had his gun. If Kent was up to something devious, Jack sure as hell hadn’t been able to figure it out.

  Jack switched on the lights to the main part of the gym. He parted company with Kent and headed for the kitchen, where he made the day’s first pot of coffee.

  Ten minutes later, the early birds, as he called them, were lined up at the door for their workout before heading for the office. This was the part of the day that he liked best, talking to the guys who were so gung ho to get their day off to a good start. He liked the easy camaraderie. Over the past month, even Kent Bliss had somehow become part of the team. He actually talked and joked with the guys. And, he’d stopped hanging around to watch the women’s aerobics class. In fact, it seemed to Jack that Kent had sworn off women. On more than one occasion he’d wondered if Kent was going to make an attempt at winning Rosie back. Then and now, the thought sent a chill up his spine.

  The other trainers straggled in and made small talk in the kitchen while they waited for the coffee to finish dripping into the pot. Jack stood on the side and listened as they kibitzed and grumbled. His ears perked up when he heard his best trainer, a young guy of twenty-six, start to extol Kent Bliss’s accomplishments. “This guy is gonna take it hands down. I’ll cover any and all bets right here, right now.” He had no takers.

  “What makes you so sure, Scotty?” Jack asked nonchalantly.

  “The guy’s a powerhouse. He’s dedicated. In the beginning, he was just horsing around, like most of the guys. Then, all of a sudden, about a month ago, he hunkered down, and, I gotta tell you, he is obsessed with winning this thing. He’s gonna do it, too.”

  A chill ran up Jack’s arms.

  “You know what they say, guys, the best man or woman, always wins. My money is on a woman this year.”

  “Would that be Rosie Gardener, boss?” the guys heckled good-naturedly.

  Pride rang in Jack’s voice when he said, “Yeah, it’s Rosie Gardener.”

  19

  Kent Bliss settled himself comfortably in a muddy-colored brown chair in his quarters, propped his feet on the coffee table, turned on CNN, and sipped at his Dunkin’ Donuts coffee.

  This was home whether he liked it or not. The truth was, he was getting used to the Halloween decor of the orange-and-brown suite. The past months had convinced him that he was never going to live high on the hog again. The realization had stunned him for all of thirty minutes or so. Then he’d hunkered down and tried to make sense of his life. Looking in the mirror, one of his favorite pastimes, convinced him that he needed to make life-altering changes. It was then that he forced himself to look deep into his mind, his heart, and his soul, and he realized he didn’t like who he was. It was not a happy realization. He was fast approaching middle age. Definitely time to take stock of one’s life and get on with living a good, decent life. He wondered if it was possible to make such a dramatic turnaround at this point in time. His thoughts took him to a place he really didn’t want to go. Rosie. Rosie was his motivating force no matter how he tried to convince himself otherwise. If Rosie could turn her life around and make life worth living again, so could he. It was time for him to give up the playboy image, time to get back on track and contribute something along the way. Rosie again.

  He couldn’t keep going at full throttle, chasing other men’s wives, cheating and lying just to make himself feel good. He had to close that chapter in his book and get serious.

  Rosie did it.

&nbs
p; He could do it, too.

  He also realized there was no way to make amends for all the misery he’d caused the people in his life, especially Rosie. What that meant was, he would have to move on. The idea was not unappealing for some reason.

  He was mesmerized by his wife these days. She’d changed and become a stronger person and, if she could do it, so could he. That knowledge and his subsequent decision had left him breathless. And, with that decision, he’d concentrated on the race as if it were the only thing that mattered in his life. Maybe seeing it through to the end would somehow validate him.

  As Kent watched the international news, his mind wandered to the two H’s, as he thought of Heather and Hillary. Before he left town, he’d have to settle up with both of them. Somehow, some way. It was important to him that when he left Savannah, he left with a clean slate. That meant giving Jack Silver back his gun. Making amends to Rosie, apologizing. As if an apology could ever make up for the way he’d treated her.

  Kent settled deeper into the worn, comfortable recesses of the chair. It boggled his mind that he had no desire to go out and cat around. He felt good after training all day, ridding his body of all the toxins his trainer said were locked in his muscles. He was content, and looking forward to a nice hot shower, clean clothes, a good order-in Italian dinner, then eight hours of uninterrupted sleep.

  He was no longer obsessed with the Wonderball ticket. His gut still told him Rosie had it. If she wanted to share, she would. If she chose not to, he would have to accept her decision. The truth, hard as it was to accept, was that he had no right to it. The other truth that was hard to accept was that he had no best friend. No guy he could call up to go have a beer with, no guy to slap on the back, no guy to go to a ball game with. His own doing, of course. Maybe the only way he was going to get a best friend was to get a dog the way Rosie had.

  All his plans, all the wheels were in motion. The day after the race, he was moving on. A sad ending to a less-than-fruitful life. But still time to make a new one. There was no one to say good-bye to except maybe Rosie, who would probably kick his ass all the way to the highway. Then again, that wasn’t Rosie’s style. They’d probably shake hands, and that would be that.

 

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