Not Without You

by Taylor, Janelle

  “Quitting!” he practically shouted. “Is this some kind of joke? No, wait. Does this have to do with Jarred? He hasn’t taken a turn for the worse, has he?”

  “Jarred is recovering remarkably fast.”

  “Oh.” Trevor swept a hand over his balding pate, then readjusted his tie, a move made out of habit more than necessity. “What do you mean, quitting? You can’t quit.”

  “I am, Trevor.” Kelsey thought about what she wanted to say for the space of ten heartbeats, then took the plunge. “I’m going to work for Bryant Industries.”

  “What?”

  “This job has meant so much to me, and I want you to know that, without it, I don’t know if I could have survived these last few years. You’ve been good to me. I’m sorry that things turned out this—”

  “You’re joking! Kelsey. You’re joking.”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “Jarred asked me to.”

  Trevor looked as if he wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her. Instead he paced his office in jerky strides. The color departed his normally ruddy face, and he looked for all the world as if he might break down emotionally.

  She should have known better. Less than three minutes later, he stopped short, glared at her, and said succinctly, “You were right. I don’t want you to stay on.”

  Stung even though she’d expected his response, Kelsey nodded in curt understanding. She turned on her heel and left before tears, forming precariously in the corners of her eyes, dampened her lashes. Blinking madly, she entered the elevator, glad to find herself its only occupant.

  And that was when anger replaced her sense of hurt. As the elevator doors closed, she stuck her arm out to stop them. She backtracked to Trevor’s office, sweeping in a breath of air the better to blast him with for being such a controlling, meddling, and insensitive jerk!

  Arm stiff to punch open his partially opened door, she stopped short upon hearing his voice filter through, its message lifting the hairs on her now frozen outstretched arm.

  ”…so you’d better fix things,” he was muttering sharply into the telephone. “She’s just left. And she’s working over there with you now, you know. He put her there.” He paused while the person on the other end of the line responded. Then he said, “I don’t really care! But I’ve got a lot at stake and so do you! This isn’t magic, you know. Phase Two didn’t happen because I was lucky! It doesn’t take brain surgery to figure this out. I need to know what’s going on at Bryant, or we don’t get the edge on those properties!” After another pause, Trevor sighed dramatically. “All I know is you’ve lost your scapegoat. So what the hell do you plan to do about it?”

  At that point, Kelsey tiptoed backward, away from the door. Rather than wait for the elevator a second time, she hurried toward the stairs, half running down to the first floor and bursting through the lobby into the gray, cloudscattered afternoon.

  She hadn’t returned to Bryant Industries. She’d headed straight for the condo, tried to out wait a deluge of rain, given up, grabbed Felix, and bolted. But now, with the miles clocking beneath her wheels on the way to Jarred’s house—her house—she felt drained and exhausted. What had Trevor meant? What was he doing? It was dreadful to think that while she’d been grateful for her job, and guilt stricken over quitting it, he’d been using her as a scapegoat for his spying!

  And who was on the other end of the phone line?

  Jarred was right. There was a spy at Bryant Industries. Someone who, along with Trevor, had quietly sown the seeds of distrust whenever Kelsey’s name had come into the conversation.

  By the time she pulled in the driveway, her spirits were so low she damn near turned the Explorer around and headed back to her condo. Instead, she hit the button for the garage door, pulled into the same spot she’d occupied as Jarred’s wife, then hauled Felix’s carrier out and toted him inside to the kitchen.

  Mr. Dog wasn’t in immediate range. Upstairs in Jarred’s suite, no doubt, Kelsey decided as she sat Felix, still safely in his carrier, on the floor beside the island. Though she’d just been here, her restless eye examined the kitchen as if seeing it for the first time. Stainless steel appliances gleamed lustrously beneath tastefully dimmed can lights. The counters were black granite and the floor was a rich, natural cherry, which added warmth to an otherwise stark room. Kelsey fingered the mesh bowl that sat square in the center of the island. It was filled with red Delicious apples grown in the state of Washington. She hadn’t noticed any of this before. She’d been too immersed in the moment, the move, Mr. Dog, or her own perilous emotions.

  Those same emotions weren’t doing too well today either. Struggling to forget them, she gazed hard at the cold silver surfaces of the oven range top and refrigerator. Without warning a memory surfaced: the time toward the end of her cohabitation with Jarred when she’d decided maybe she could cook her way into the role of happy wife.

  What a joke. She’d attempted several home-cooked meals, a different state of affairs since Jarred had always had Mary Hennessy take care of those duties. Mary had been with the Bryant family for most of Jarred’s life, and though Kelsey felt a full-time cook and housekeeper was rather excessive, it hadn’t been her place to question Jarred’s domestic arrangements since Kelsey had been the later addition to the household, not Mary.

  So Mary had stayed on and become a grudging friend. Grudging because the older woman had suffered serious doubts about Jarred’s young bride. She was loyal to the Bryants, and Kelsey learned she would have to earn the woman’s trust and respect and vice versa. That miracle was accomplished toward the end of Kelsey’s tenure, a bittersweet irony.

  But during those weeks, when Kelsey had experimented with a few entrees to entice her ever more distant husband, Mary hadn’t been too enthusiastic. The kitchen was, after all, her domain, and she was loath to let anyone take control of it.

  So, under the hawk eyes of Jarred’s cook and maid, Kelsey had tried out several meals on her husband. To his credit Jarred had acted as if everything she’d concocted was wonderful even while he eyed her in that speculative way, as if working out her newest motivation. Mary, feeling no compunction about speaking her mind as Kelsey prepared her first meal, said in her rather imperative way, “You don’t want to mess up my kitchen now.”

  “I’m just trying out a couple of recipes,” Kelsey said. “As we both know, I’m no cook, Mary. I’ll try to remember to put everything back where I find it.”

  “It’s no problem, ma’am. I can always find it again,” she said rather hurriedly as if hearing her own suspicious tone.

  “Still, I’ll be careful. I wouldn’t want anyone disturbing my things.”

  With a smile to cover up her actual thoughts, Kelsey had managed to keep the older woman at bay. Though Mary regarded her with a deepening frown, she gave up the fight and let her young mistress do as she wished. Kelsey had then actually turned to a very plain cooking—a pot roast with tiny red potatoes, carrots, and mushrooms— because she knew Jarred’s tastes. Although he was a man used to the lap of luxury, he’d never been able to handle the folderol of the exotic meals foisted on him first by Nola and then by Mary, who’d learned from example. Though Mary had slowly changed her ways, she’d never quite given up the idea that Jarred was too important to simply cook for. He needed a chef and gourmet meals, and though Mary herself held no such claim to fame, she’d certainly over the years slipped some rather exotic food both Jarred and Kelsey’s way.

  So, when Kelsey managed a simple meal with mouthwatering results, Jarred had praised her attempts, at least until he’d fallen into his usual mode of needling her, which began almost the moment they sat down opposite each other at the dining room table.

  “How very domestic of you,” he said, twisting his fork between his thumb and forefinger as if he were reluctant to actually dig in. Indirect lighting touched the corners of the dining room ceiling and only the flicker of two gold candles actually illuminated Jarred’s face.

>   “A moment ago you praised my efforts.”

  “It’s great,” he agreed. “I’m just wondering what it means.”

  “It doesn’t mean anything. Can’t I just feel like cooking you a meal?”

  He eyed her in that ironic way that always made her feel so small and naive. Irked, Kelsey tucked into her own pot roast and was rewarded when the flavors from the wine and bay leaf and garlic created their own kind of heaven.

  Spying her smile, Jarred tasted his own meal, chewing slowly, his gaze centering on her pleased face. “It’s good.”

  “It’s damn good,” she declared.

  His lips twitched. “Yes, it’s damn good,” he agreed, disconcerting Kelsey once again. She almost preferred it when he was mean to her or put her on the hot seat. At least at those times she understood him—or part of him anyway.

  “I think I’ll cook tomorrow night, too.”

  He lifted his glass of cabernet and eyed her thoughtfully. Red light refracted through the crystal goblet. “No one told me hell had frozen over.”

  “Just shows you that you should pay more attention to the news.”

  He grinned, bestowing on her a dazzling smile that was all too rare and way too attractive. Kelsey finished the rest of her meal in silence though Jarred attempted to provoke her into further conversation. In any event, she followed through on her cooking the next evening, but• her second attempt was little more than a vat of soup that she left to simmer on the stove. At the last moment she scratched out a note that said she’d be out, and she made certain she was gone for all the hours that could be construed as dinnertime.

  Returning late after wandering a nearby mall and then standing on a pier above Lake Washington, Kelsey was glad the lights were dimmed and no one was about. Jarred had left her a note on the kitchen counter. Picking it up, she was disconcerted by the words, “It was good,” written in his distinctive scrawl. For reasons too odd to contemplate she’d wanted to sit down in the middle of the floor and bawl her eyes out, though she chose instead to head up to the guest room and bury herself between the sheets.

  She’d given up then, both cooking and battling Mary Hennessy. And though Mary came to sympathize with Kelsey, she couldn’t quite embrace the cook or find a way to rekindle the flames of her dying marriage. What was the point? Shortly thereafter she’d moved into her condominium, and now, she was moving back in with Jarred.

  The telephone suddenly shrilled into the silent, room. Figuring it was meant for Jarred, she waited for the answering machine to pick up, then was pleasantly surprised to hear Marlena Rowden’s voice.

  “Hi, Kelsey. It’s Marlena, Sorry I missed you, honey. I just wanted to say thank you for the—”

  “Marlena?” Kelsey snagged the receiver.

  “Oh, you’re already there. I wasn’t sure if you’d left the comdominium yet, but it just rang and rang when I called there earlier.”

  Kelsey had left the message with Robert Rowden that she was moving back in with Jarred. Robert had stoically taken the news. He loved Kelsey like a daughter and wouldn’t offer his opinion unless it was asked for. What the Rowdens truly thought of Kelsey’s sudden desire to move in with Jarred was a mystery—one she didn’t even want to try to solve.

  “I want to thank you for your generous gift. Ted’s. pretty much moved in with us now, and you know we couldn’t make it without your help.”

  “You are so welcome, Marlena,” Kelsey responded warmly. “I’m just glad Ted’s working out.”

  Ted was a caregiver who’d stepped in when Marlena couldn’t handle the daily chores of taking care of her husband by herself. Ted kept Robert from facing a nursing home, and Marlena from trying to do more than she was capable of. Kelsey had helped fund both Robert’s care and Chance’s treatment as the Rowdens simply couldn’t afford all the expenses.

  “How’s Jarred doing?” Marlena asked.

  “Better. He’ll be home soon.”

  “He called us, you know,” she said softly.

  Kelsey’s clutched the receiver hard. “He did?”

  “To talk to us about Chance.”

  “He… he didn’t mention it,” Kelsey answered softly.

  “He doesn’t remember the accident, but he feels terribly guilty, I think,” Marlena said, her own voice deepening with emotion. “I broke down on the phone, honey, and I think I made it worse. Could you tell him that we know it’s not his fault? I mean, whatever reason they were together, the accident was an accident and that’s all there is to say.”

  Or a criminal act, Kelsey thought, recalling Detective Newcastle’s words. Apparently the detective was still keeping Chance’s parents in the dark, and that was just fine with her.

  “I’ll tell him,” she responded softly.

  “We do miss him a lot,” she added sadly, and Kelsey knew she’d jumped to thoughts of Chance.

  “So do I.”

  “I’d better go now.” Her voice shook a bit, ripping at Kelsey’s heartstrings.

  “Let me know if you need anything else,” Kelsey said before she hung up the phone.

  A moment later Mr. Dog rounded the corner, smelled Felix, and ran pell-mell to the cat carrier, barking his fool head off. Felix screeched and spit and generally had a fit, and Kelsey spent the next half hour soothing both animals’ jangled nerves. By the time Dr. Alastair called and informed her that, barring any unforeseen circumstances, Jarred would be released in the next several days, Kelsey was halfway through her store of boxes and well on her way to moving back home.

  Chapter Seven

  December

  “You know we have a virtual reality setup at the hospital that helps distract patients from the pain of physical therapy,” Joanna Wirth said as she watched Jarred rotate his left arm.

  Sweating and aching, Jarred was in no mood to chat with his physical therapist. He grunted instead and kept rotating the arm and bending his elbow. It was out of its cast and weak and puny looking. Frightening how quickly muscles atrophied.

  He didn’t even want to think about his right leg.

  “We use it mostly for our burn patients. Their pain is excruciating. They put on the headset and chase a virtual spider all around. Keeps their mind off the pain.” She smiled. “Really quite effective.”

  They were in Jarred’s master suite, which was currently filled with exercise equipment that he had mostly yet to use. Joanna came in daily to check on his progress. It was a routine that left Jarred exhausted, cranky, and impatient because he wanted complete recovery and he wanted it now. He felt as useless as a kitten and his mood reflected his current dissatisfaction, and for that reason, he kept his mouth firmly shut.

  “You can try it when you’re next at the hospital. See what you think.”

  Jarred just looked at her. Joanna was infuriatingly cheerful. Sometimes he wanted to blast her with a meteor of white-hot fury. Only years of Nola’s behavior training in manners kept him from roaring out his frustrations at her now.

  Truth be told, it wasn’t just the physical therapy and snail-slow mending of every broken bone and torn muscle. Sure, that was a huge part of it, but there was also Kelsey.

  Kelsey.

  Gritting his teeth, Jarred felt frustration boil like a live volcano inside him. She lived right down the hall but he saw even less of her than when she lived at the condo. Okay, that wasn’t completely true. But she was gone at the crack of dawn and by the time she returned at. night he was practically in a coma of exhaustion. Like an automaton, she would report on what had happened at work that day, but then she would leave him alone to get his rest. It felt as if they never, ever saw each other.

  “Let’s see you walk,” Joanna suggested.

  All he wanted to do was throw himself on the bed and groan. Every muscle seemed to be quivering from overuse. With a supreme effort of will, he rose from the chair, ignored the walker, and reached for the crutches propped against the opposite wall. Joanna opened her mouth to protest, but after one scalding glance from Jarred, she relucta
ntly kept her thoughts to herself. Hurting at every step, he managed a piss-poor job of thumping from one side of the room to the other. He winced every time his right leg bore even a modicum of his weight. Raw nerves screamed. He sweated and panted. Still, it was better than yesterday. And yesterday had been a little better than the day before.

  “Very good,” Joanna decreed with a slow clap of approval. “Very good.”

  Jarred sank back into the chair as she gathered together her things. He tried not to reveal his complete physical exhaustion. He waited for her to leave, but she was damn fussy about collecting all her belongings, and by the time she was at the door and throwing out more words of encouragement and advice for further rehabilitation, Jarred felt himself melting toward inexorable, physically driven sleep.

  “You okay?” Joanna asked, hovering by the outer door to his suite.

  “Never better.”

  “Rest. You need it.”

  The door closed behind her. Jarred stared at it. He lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Turning on his side, he stared at the wall.

  I want my wife, he thought, feeling welcome, if unrequited, stirrings of lust. Thank God that apparatus seemed to be in functioning order. Now if he only had a Chance to use it. For the. time being, he couldn’t even get his wife to kiss him, and that knowledge had worn his patience too thin to measure without micron precision.

  She was avoiding him on purpose. There was no other explanation. A quick recitation of the events of the day and she was gone. Poof. And he just didn’t have the strength to go after her.

  During those initial days of his recovery she’d seemed a willing partner, but now she’d retreated from him in a way that baffled, annoyed, and exasperated him. Add to that, she’d befriended Mary Hennessy, who seemed to have switched allegiance entirely, being more accommodating to Kelsey than she’d ever been to Jarred. He was persona non grata while Kelsey appeared to be the flavor of the month. Not that that bothered him, particularly. He was glad they’d found a level of respect and cooperation and maybe even friendship. Anything that kept Kelsey close was all right by Jarred.