by Mia Malone
“Why don’t you work less then?” I asked.
“Running a company isn’t a part-time job,” he said with a shrug.
This wasn’t news to me, and I knew that my own CEO worked grueling weeks. I did too when I thought about it.
“True,” I agreed. “I run on my lunch hour and do yoga with Layla on the weekends.” I winced and added, “Hate it.”
“Running?”
“Yoga.”
“So, why do you do it?”
“Layla loves it,” I stated simply.
Lay was also good at it, which I wasn’t. I was flexible enough in my legs, but my arms and shoulders were stiff as boards. Some of the weird positions also twisted my bowels around in a way that made me concerned I’d accidentally break some wind, which was something I would absolutely not tell the handsome man sitting next to me.
“I might try going to the gym on my lunch break next week,” Matthias said. “I used to be in better shape, and I’ve started looking at places to ski this winter, so I’ll need to get back in shape.”
“You ski?” I asked, which was stupid because he’d just said he did, so I added, “I do too. Love it so much, and we’ve already booked our rooms.”
“We?”
“Layla, her husband and I,” I clarified. “We usually ski in Colorado, but this year we’ll stay on the east coast, close to where Meggie is in school.”
I mentioned the resort we were going to, and he grinned.
“Good place. I’ve been there plenty of times, and we might go again.”
“Maybe we’ll meet then,” I said with a grin.
“We probably will,” he said, and the way he looked at me when he said that made a few butterflies flutter around my belly in a silly dance.
That evening we went to one of the restaurants in town. It was my last evening on the island, and Jacob shared that he felt more like paying than cooking.
I countered by stating that I would pick up the tab as thanks for his hospitality and got two loud male laughs right in my face. Since Jacob’s house was lovely but kind of small, I wasn’t sure what his financial situation was and didn’t want him to use his retirement savings to fund my dinner, so I insisted and only got more laughter as an answer.
“I can’t believe I didn’t see it,” I said sourly. “You look exactly the same.”
“What?” Matthias said with a chuckle.
I narrowed my eyes and looked at the two men standing in front of me.
“The beard threw me off, and you have longer hair, Jacob, but you look the same,” I insisted. “You have the same eyes.”
Jacob’s face softened, and he gave my shoulder a quick caress.
“We do.”
“The same smile too,” I said. Matthias held the door open to let me walk into the restaurant, and I added in a voice full of fake-annoyance, “Same stupid way of laughing when I try to do something nice.”
“You’re not paying for dinner,” he retorted calmly.
“Huh,” I said since I didn’t have anything better to say.
I would indeed find a way to pick up the tab but didn’t see the need to inform him of that.
The food was fantastic, but it could have tasted like cardboard, and I wouldn't have noticed or cared. Part of that was because Jacob told hilarious stories from his childhood on the island. He'd moved away for college and stayed away, but they'd used the house as a summer retreat until Jacob's second wife passed away and he moved back.
Matthias seemed to know most people who entered the restaurant, and every now and then, he leaned in to share memories about someone walking through the door.
His comments were a little sarcastic but not mean and mostly hilarious. The way his breath slid over my neck made a blush warm my cheeks, and my laughter a little husky. I could tell that Jacob noticed, but he only smiled, so I turned to Matthias and was about to give him another cheeky retort when we were interrupted by a man with a chef’s apron tied around his waist.
“Danny,” Matthias said with a wide grin and got up to man-hug the man, whom I assumed was the one responsible for the fantastic food we’d just eaten.
“Hey, Matty. Good to see you,” Danny said cheerfully. “How’s Jackie? I haven’t seen her here in a while?”
Matthias seemed to tense up, and he’d lowered his voice, so I didn’t hear his answer. My pulse had also started to beat loudly in my ears, and an uneasy feeling settled heavily in my belly.
“Jackie?” I said with a wide happy smile, which probably was a little tense at the edges.
“His wife?” Danny answered in a question when no one said anything else.
Chapter Five
Moving on
Nina
Matthias mumbled something which I promptly ignored.
“Oh. You didn't share that you are you married,” I said breezily, keeping a smile plastered firmly on my face, even though it took some effort.
“Technically,” Matthias muttered.
“It doesn’t work like that,” I snapped. “Yes or no?”
“Shit. I’m sorry, bud,” I heard Danny say, but I ignored that too and kept my eyes firmly locked with Matthias’.
I knew the answer even before he said it.
“Yes.”
He’d said I was pretty, and we’d joked about skiing together. The words had been innocent enough, but I was not stupid goddamnit. And I had not misunderstood the way he looked at me or how his voice had deepened when he murmured silly pieces of information in my ear.
Asshole, I thought but did not say, and kept smiling casually.
“Your wife’s name is Jackie?” I asked and raised a brow in a way I hoped would look quizzical and not as if I wanted to take the nearest fork and stab it into his thigh.
“Jaqueline,” Danny drawled when Matthias just looked at me. “Fancy name for a fancy lady who did not want the name Jones. Jaqueline Charmaigne.”
I hadn’t changed my name either, although that had been since I was known as Nina Petrie in the office, so it was easier to keep it. From the tone of his voice, I got the impression that Danny was not a big fan of Matthias’ wife. I did not care about that, though, and felt how my eyes widened in surprise.
“You married Jackie the –”
Shit.
I cut myself off and tried frantically but unsuccessfully to come up with something witty to say.
“The what?” Matthias asked when the silence stretched into a void full of uncomfortable tension.
“Nothing,” I said breezily.
“Nina.”
The way he said my name clearly indicated that he'd caught on that I held something back and that he wouldn't give in until I'd shared what that something was.
“I should probably tell you that I went to Brown,” I murmured.
“Brown?” he echoed as if he didn’t know the name of the rather well-known college, which also was the college his wife had attended. “You knew Jackie,” he stated.
“No.”
“Yes, you did,” he insisted.
“Not really,” I said defensively.
“What does that mean?” he said, and I could tell that he was just as frustrated as I was.
“Let’s talk about something else,” I said and reached for my glass.
“Why?”
Our gazes locked, and finally, I sighed.
“Because I lived three doors down the hall from your wife the first year and no, we didn’t exactly know each other, but we knew of each other, and we also didn’t like each other.” I took a sip from my wine and added quietly, “At all.”
Matthias raised his brows in surprise, but that only made me wonder if he knew his spouse at all, or if she'd perhaps changed dramatically. It had been a long time ago, so she probably had, I decided.
“I’m going to go to the restrooms. When I get back, we won’t talk more about this,” Matthias said with a sigh.
“Fine,” I agreed amicably.
“Fine,” he grunted and walked away, fol
lowed by a wildly gesturing Danny.
“Jackie the what?” Jacob asked and poured me some more wine.
I sighed and glanced toward the restrooms.
“Everyone called her Jackie-the-jackal, okay?” I said quietly. “I’m sure she grew out of it, but back then, she was such a condescending snob. My best friend was there on a scholarship, and Jackie never let Layla forget that. Then Lay met her husband, who happened to be the guy Jackie had told everyone she would eventually marry. We all thought Jackie would have a stroke.”
“Yikes,” Jacob muttered.
“Long time ago and we were just kids,” I said with faked indifference. Remembering how she’d insulted my best friend still pissed me off. “Layla got a better offer from Yale, so she transferred for her second year, and I did too.”
“Just like that?”
“I had really good grades.” I made a small face and added with a bit of emphasis, “Excellent ones, in fact. Money wasn't an issue. My mother made some calls.”
Before he could ask more about my transfer, Matthias came back, and we tried to pretend that nothing unusual had happened. The rest of the evening was stilted and weird, and I seethed inside even as I laughed at a silly joke Jacob made.
So, Matthias was married. Of course, a man like him would be, but what the hell was it about men and not honoring their goddamned vows?
When we got back to the house, Matthias muttered a goodnight and walked straight into the guest house. I hugged Jacob and thanked him for dinner, which I hadn’t paid for. I let Matthias do that and figured it was a small price for him to pay.
“I’m leaving early tomorrow morning,” I said quietly. “I’m saying goodbye now, and I’ll get on the early ferry back to the mainland.”
“Nina...”
“I was flirting with him, but Jacob – he was flirting with me too. His vows apparently mean nothing to him, but I’m not that woman. I know I messed up a little with my colleague, but it’s not who I am.”
“I’m going to have a good long talk with my son tomorrow.”
“Not about me, Jacob. Please don’t make this into a big deal.”
“Okay,” he sighed when he saw that I meant what I’d said.
“It was a nice weekend. I needed to get away, and you gave me that,” I said and hugged him again.
“Will you come back?” he murmured.
I probably wouldn’t be back in a long while, and definitely not if Jackie-the-jackal was in attendance, but I didn’t want to say that to Jacob, so I settled for a vague, “Maybe.”
“I’ll visit you instead,” he said. “I’m not sure what’s going on with Matty, but you should –”
“He’s married,” I said calmly. “You are always welcome to visit, Jacob. You know that.” I took a deep breath and added, “He isn’t.”
***
Matthias
“Get up,” his father grunted and gave him a shove that almost pushed him off the ergonomically superior mattress his goddamned baby-brother had insisted on hauling across from the mainland.
Matthias was barely awake and squinted in the sudden light when his dad pushed the curtains apart.
“The fuck?”
“We’re gonna have a little talk you and me,” Jacob barked, and walked away.
Shit.
Matthias knew that voice uncomfortably well.
It was the voice of a very, very pissed off father.
He’d known this would happen and had tried to avoid it by walking away the evening before. It hadn’t worked, apparently, and now he was at the ripe age of fifty-two clearly about to get the kind of lecture he hadn’t been on the receiving end of in many years.
A pair of jeans with holes on one knee and a ratty old tee would have to do, he decided. If his dad yelled loud enough for the windows to rattle and neighbors came running, they’d just have to ignore his less than immaculate appearance. He smiled at the thought, but the humor drained out of him when he realized who would be the most likely to come running.
Double-shit. Nina.
Matthias winced when he remembered how the light had gone out of her eyes the evening before. She’d kept her cool and acted as if nothing unusual was going on, but he’d seen the difference the second Danny had mentioned his wife’s name.
Going to the island to save his father from some young gold-digger had ended up being a couple of the best days he’d had in a very long time, and he’d let himself forget his life on the mainland. Had allowed himself to feel young and carefree again.
A small voice in his head told him that he should have said something about his messed-up family situation during one of the long talks about everything under the goddamned sun, but he hadn’t, and now it was time to deal with the consequences of being a moron. It would start with a furious father who clearly wanted to rip him a new one, which he probably deserved, and then he’d sit down with Nina and try to explain.
Jacob was alone in the kitchen when he walked in.
“Nina left with the morning ferry,” Jacob said, and added sourly, “Sit.”
“Left?” Matthias asked and walked over to bring down a cup to get himself some coffee.
She hadn’t even said goodbye.
“Sit your fucking ass down, Matty,” Jacob roared.
Matthias sat his goddamned ass down and tried to defuse the situation.
“Can we be –”
“You’re still married?” his dad yelled, not interested in being defused at all.
“I don’t –”
“I thought you split up six months ago for Christ’s sake?”
“Jackie moved out seven months ago,” Matthias confirmed.
“And you’re still married?”
“Yes.”
“What the fuck?” Jacob asked, which Matthias realized was a highly relevant question.
He just didn’t know what to answer.
“It’s complicated,” he stalled.
“Do you love her?”
Matthias was pretty sure he knew the answer to that question but didn’t want to say the words out loud because that would make them real, so he shrugged.
“Okay, let me re-phrase that,” Jacob snapped. “Jackie walks into a room. Do you want to drag her right back out of there and pull off her clothes?”
“Jesus, Dad,” Matthias said and winced.
He knew the answer to that question too, but did not need a lecture about Viagra or whatever the fuck.
“What’s going on, Matty?” Jacob asked quietly when they’d glared at each other for a while. “I don’t get it.”
Ah.
Time for the standard reply he’d given just about anyone he knew already.
“We’ve been married a long time, Dad, and I guess all marriages have their ups and downs. I work too much, and we don’t have that much in common anymore.”
“You always worked a lot, and you never had anything in common,” Jacob retorted.
“What?”
“Never got why you married her, Matty. I’ll be honest and tell you that I never liked her much, but you loved her, so I was happy for you. Still never got why you chose Jackie.”
“We –” Matthias cut himself off and stared at his father.
He couldn’t remember a single reason that explained why he’d married his wife. There had been reasons, and their marriage hadn’t been bad. Not while the kids were in the house, anyway.
“Why haven’t you divorced?”
“I haven’t had fucking time to think about that shit,” Matthias snarled, angry at the whole situation but mostly feeling like an idiot. “I work eighty-hour weeks, and we’ve opened the new factory, so –”
“Jesus,” Jacob hissed. “You’re blaming the Minnesota factory? What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” Matthias muttered, and added defensively, “Jackie says she wants to think about things.”
“Seven months is a lot of time to think.”
“I know.”
Jacob raised his hand
in an impatient gesture but got up to pour coffee, which they drank in silence.
“Matty, this is gonna hurt some,” he said finally.
“Dad...”
“Son, you need to take a good fucking look at yourself and figure out if you like what you see. I don’t.”
What the hell?
“Dad, it’s –”
“You look ten years older than you should, and you’re also ridiculously out of shape.”
“What?”
“You work too much, you say? So, work less.”
Nina had said the same thing.
“Someone has to run the fucking company,” Matthias snarled.
“Doesn’t have to be you,” Jacob retorted and put the cup down forcefully. “Life is fucking short, and you have some choices to make. If you want to work on your marriage, then don’t mope around and wait for your goddamned wife to come home from another day at the spa where the only thing she’s decided upon is the color of her nails.” His eyes sharpened, and he added, “But I saw a part of you this weekend that I haven’t seen in a long while, and you should think about that too. If you don’t want to be married to Jackie, then get the damned admin out of the way.”
“She’s Simon and Susannah’s mother.”
“She’ll be Si and Suzie’s mother regardless of her marital status,” Jacob retorted calmly.
Matthias thought about what to do and tried to come up with something to say that wouldn’t sound as foolish as he felt, but his mind was blank.
“I don’t know what to do,” he admitted.
“Matty,” his dad said gently. “Just decide what you want. Either way, it’ll be fine, but you have got to move on.”
“Yeah,” Matthias sighed after a while.
“You used to run,” Jacob said. “Start doing it again, son. It’ll clear your head.”
“Okay,” Matthias heard himself say.
“And Matty?”
“Yeah?”
“If you decide to proceed with the divorce...”
“Yeah?” Matthias repeated when Jacob just looked at him.
“Brace.”
“What?”
“Just saying.” Jacob smiled grimly and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezed it gently, and added, “You should get yourself a really fucking excellent lawyer.”