by Brenda Novak
“Eve, he’s been saying that for years.”
“And?”
“No one believes him.”
She understood what Cheyenne was getting at but didn’t want to consider it. “Stop. Don’t ruin this.” Her phone rang, and she checked Caller ID. “It’s him.” She raised a finger to her lips before answering. “Don’t tell him I told you. And don’t tell anyone else about us. Not yet, okay? You promise?”
Cheyenne’s smiled looked pained, putting even more of a damper on Eve’s excitement. “I won’t. I promise.”
Trying to throw off the odd feeling she’d gotten since revealing her relationship with Ted, Eve answered the phone. “Hello?”
“Hey, what’s up?” he asked.
“Not much.” She stepped out of the office so she could talk without Cheyenne listening in. “Are you getting some pages written today?”
“Not too many. I’ve been busy with...other things.”
This surprised her. He’d gone home early last night because he was under so much pressure to get the rest he needed so he could work. “What other things? You’re on deadline, remember?”
“I’m afraid this couldn’t be helped.”
“What’s ‘this’?”
The resulting pause told her he was searching for the right words. “I had to move Sophia and Alexa into my guesthouse.”
Her blood ran cold. She liked Sophia, felt sorry for her, but on the heels of what Cheyenne had just said.... “What?”
“Someone’s been harassing them, vandalizing the house, even threatening them.”
“Who?”
“I wish I knew. Maybe then I could put a stop to it without having to go this route.”
“But...you’re already helping her. Isn’t there someone else who could come to her rescue?”
“Like...”
“If she’s being harassed, the police would be a logical choice.”
“Chief Stacy is no fan. Not anymore. I told you what he said when he came here on Monday.”
But Sophia was still a citizen of Whiskey Creek, and the citizens of Whiskey Creek should be able to count on their chief of police to do his job. “That means she’ll be around you almost 24/7.”
“Not for long. She’s planning to get out of town as soon as she can afford it.”
“That could be months.”
“I realize this isn’t what either of us would wish for.” He lowered his voice as if he was afraid someone—Sophia?—might overhear him. “But they couldn’t stay where they were. They’re not safe there. Not only that, but she can’t afford to heat that big house.”
Eve remembered her relief and excitement when he’d hired Sophia. She’d been so grateful to him. But now...jealousy bit deep. Was Sophia using her situation to get closer to Ted? Was she playing the martyr, preying on his sympathies?
It was even possible that Sophia’s house hadn’t been vandalized. Maybe she’d done it herself.
As much as Eve hated suspecting the worst, she couldn’t forget who Sophia had been in high school. “Ted, she must be aware that you’re...successful.” And still single. “Maybe she hasn’t changed as much as I thought. Maybe she’s a...a parasite looking for a new host.”
“I doubt it. If so, she’s not looking to me. I saw the damage at her place with my own eyes.”
How? Why? Had she called him? Asked him to come by?
Eve wasn’t sure she wanted to know. “Either way, you won’t make the mistake of getting back with her....”
“Of course not,” he said. “You and I are together, aren’t we?”
She drew a deep breath, but still felt shaky. “That was my understanding.”
“It’s true. You don’t have anything to worry about. I won’t let you down.”
That was exactly what she wanted to hear, but the way he’d stated it left something to be desired. She can’t hold a candle to you. Or why would I want her when I’ve got you would’ve been more flattering. More convincing, too. But their relationship was new. She couldn’t expect him to be madly in love with her yet.
“I’ll admit this has me concerned,” she said.
“Eve, I made my decision about us on Monday.”
In the hot tub. When he was drunk. That didn’t bolster her confidence, but she knew she could rely on his integrity. And she was the one who’d championed Sophia. It wasn’t as if she could get angry about his involvement in Sophia’s life when she’d been so supportive of it.
“I know.”
“Are you still interested in getting together tonight?”
“I am.” More than ever. “Your place okay?”
She wished there hadn’t been another pause, but there was.
“Sure.”
“What time?”
“Seven? I’ll have Sophia prepare extra for dinner.”
It made her feel slightly better that he expected Sophia to cook for both of them. “I’ll bring my swimsuit.”
“Sounds good. See you later.”
After he hung up, she remained in the hallway, thinking. She’d been as convinced as everyone else that Ted wasn’t over Sophia. Was she only buying into it now because she wanted to?
“Everything okay?” Cheyenne stood in the doorway of their office, wearing a concerned expression.
“Of course. That was Ted.” Hoping to seem more confident than she felt, she smiled. “He wants me to come over for dinner tonight.”
Obviously relieved, Cheyenne returned her smile. “I’m happy for you. I really am.”
Eve knew she should probably tell her friend that Sophia was moving into Ted’s guesthouse, but that would only feed her skepticism, and Eve didn’t need that. Fortunately, Sophia wouldn’t be staying at his place for long, she told herself. Ted had said she’d be leaving Whiskey Creek.
Eve had to admit she’d be glad when that happened. She even wished she had some money to give her so she could go right now.
21
With a master bed and bath upstairs, and a bedroom with bath, a small kitchen, a living room, mudroom and laundry area downstairs, Ted’s guesthouse was tiny compared to what Sophia was used to. It was no more than eight hundred square feet. But she was thrilled to have furniture—and heat—again.
Exhausted from so many sleepless nights, the stress of starting a new job, the worry over Alexa’s situation at school and hauling box after box through Ted’s side yard and into his guesthouse, Sophia dropped onto her new bed. He’d helped her by carrying in the heaviest boxes, but then he’d left her to finish on her own so he could work.
Now she was alone, and it felt like heaven to lie down somewhere that didn’t remind her of Skip. Somewhere that felt safe. Somewhere no one would expect to find her. She had to walk over to Ted’s house and get to work now. It wasn’t fair to him that the move had taken up more than half their day. He’d already had to warm up the leftover soup for his lunch. But she needed a few minutes to rest.
She was so tired....
Settling beneath the goose-down comforter on the bed, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She wished she could hide out here forever. But before she could drift off, she made herself get up. She couldn’t show her gratitude to Ted by falling asleep when she was supposed to be cleaning his house.
Dragging her tired body from the bed, she patted her cheeks to try to revive herself and hurried downstairs. She was going to like the cozy guesthouse. Sheltered from the road by Ted’s much larger house—not that many people came out this way—it was new and smelled of the pine planks that’d been used for the ceilings. And the scenery! On one side she had a magnificent view of the river, on the other a more than decent view of his yard, pool and Jacuzzi.
Sophia entered his house via a small walkway of stone steps. That wasn’t the main back door. The main back door led into the living room off an expansive deck one floor above. But this allowed her quick and easy access to the kitchen.
She could see that Ted had set his soup bowl in the sink, noticed he’d left out a ba
g of chips and felt her stomach growl. She needed to eat. She wasn’t getting enough nourishment these days.
She made herself a sandwich and sat down to flip through the cookbook she’d used before, hoping to find a good recipe for pasta. Ted had said he wanted that for dinner today. She’d made spaghetti and fettuccine for Skip many times, but she felt like a completely different person now than she had a month ago and didn’t want to return to the past, even to create a meal she was familiar with.
Noise in the hall caused her to glance up. Ted appeared, carrying his coffee cup. “I need another jolt of caffeine,” he explained.
She put her sandwich on her plate and got to her feet. “I’ll make it.”
He waved her aside. “Eat. That’s the first thing I’ve seen you put in your mouth since you started here. I don’t want to interrupt.”
“But I feel responsible for the fact that you’re so tired, and it makes me feel bad when you’ve been so...kind to me.”
He turned to look at her as if she’d surprised him somehow, and she wished she’d consulted a mirror before hurrying over to the main house. She’d seen the dark circles under her eyes this morning. Hopefully, they were less noticeable in this light.
“What?” she said, tucking her hair behind her ears.
“Nothing. It was my decision to stay last night. Don’t worry about it.”
“But you wouldn’t have done it if you’d thought you could leave.”
“I’ll survive.”
She went back to the table but was suddenly too nervous to eat her sandwich. She didn’t want to be a burden on him, didn’t want him to regret the kindness that had saddled him with an ex he’d rather not even see.
“How’s the book coming?”
“Not so good.”
He’d probably be getting more done if he didn’t have so many distractions—like taking in a woman and child who might’ve been homeless without him. “I’ll be careful not to interrupt you this afternoon.”
He didn’t say anything.
“While I have you here, what do you think of this for dinner?” She showed him a picture of bowtie pasta with prosciutto, onions and peas in a Parmesan cream sauce. “Does this look like an entrée you might like?”
His eyebrows slid up. “Definitely.”
“I’ll make that tonight, then.”
Having started the coffeemaker, he turned around to face her. “I was going to talk to you about tonight.”
The gravity in his voice put her on high alert. “You’d rather have something else?”
“No, that’s fine. Could you make enough for Eve, too?”
She managed to maintain her smile. “Of course. Is this a—a date? Would you like me to do something special?”
“You don’t have to go to too much trouble. Just add a bottle of wine, a salad and maybe some dessert.”
She’d already been planning to serve a salad and bread with the main meal. “I can do that. I’ll set it up in the dining room.”
“That’d be great.”
She pointed to the coffeemaker. “You don’t have to wait. I’ll bring you a cup when it’s ready, if that’ll help.”
“I’d appreciate it.” He walked away but turned back at the last second. “Why’d you do it?” he asked. “Why’d you sleep with Skip?”
This was the first time he’d ever given her the opportunity to explain. But now that he had, she didn’t know where to begin. What did it matter, anyway? What could she hope to achieve? She could tell by his tone that, all these years later, he was still speaking out of condemnation and anger. And after the kindness Eve had shown her, Sophia wouldn’t interfere in their relationship even if she had the chance. “I made a mistake.”
“One you made worse by marrying him.”
It wasn’t easy to tolerate the accusation in his eyes, not without launching a few accusations of her own. She wasn’t the only one who’d been egocentric at that age. He’d been so preoccupied with all his projects and classes that he hadn’t paid much attention to what was happening—or not happening—in her world. He’d taken it for granted that when he finished setting the world on fire she’d be waiting for him in Whiskey Creek. “I was pregnant. I didn’t have any other choice.”
“Your parents would’ve helped you. They did everything for you.”
Not after he went to college. And especially not in that last year when he’d been so busy they’d barely talked. Once her mother could no longer hang on to reality, her father hadn’t been able to cope with the grief. He’d stepped down from his position as mayor and promptly fallen apart, and without any new money coming in, their savings had dwindled. They managed to get her mother into a facility where the state would pick up the bill, but almost as soon as they did that, her father received news of his own diagnosis. Although they’d been too proud to let anyone know the extent of their problems—it hurt to be humbled in one fell swoop—she couldn’t have afforded the chemo or anything else, not without Skip. “I panicked.”
“You mean Skip had the money you wanted.”
The money she’d desperately needed. There was a difference. And Skip was the father of her child. Was Ted saying he would’ve accepted Alexa? She couldn’t imagine that—couldn’t imagine him forgiving her for what she’d done. “If that’s how you want to look at it,” she said.
“There isn’t any other way,” he retorted.
* * *
When the doorbell sounded signifying Eve’s arrival, Ted wasn’t sure where Sophia was. She didn’t answer the door, so he assumed she’d left for the day. She was probably in the guesthouse, unpacking. The last time he’d seen her was when she’d slipped into his office, put a cup of coffee at his elbow, along with some sliced fruit, and slipped out.
It had been a quiet afternoon, which he’d needed to get some pages written. But as he passed the living room on his way to the door, he saw that she’d been busy. Every room in the house was immaculate. He could smell several delectable scents drifting from the kitchen, and she’d set a beautiful table. He paused when he saw it because he didn’t recognize the pretty crystal vase that served as a centerpiece or the fresh flowers inside it. Neither had he ever seen the matching candleholders. And he knew for a fact that he didn’t own those elegant dinner candles.
She’d gone to extra trouble to make this romantic—but he wasn’t sure that made him happy. He had such mixed reactions when it came to her.
The doorbell sounded again.
“Coming,” he called.
As soon as he opened the door, Eve gestured toward Sophia’s black Mercedes. “Looks like your houseguest will be spending her first night here.”
He wondered how things had gone for Alexa at school today. When Sophia picked her up, she must’ve had her go straight to the guesthouse to do her homework because he hadn’t seen or heard her at all. “I can only hope that’ll make it harder for the repo company to find her car.”
“Right. Or she’ll be using your car as well as enjoying everything else you have to offer.”
He didn’t say anything. He hadn’t asked for Sophia to land in his lap—at least not in a long time. But there hadn’t been any way to avoid helping her, not if he wanted to maintain his humanity. “Believe me, my mother isn’t any happier about the situation than you are. She hung up on me the day she learned Sophia was working here, and I haven’t spoken to her since.”
“Aren’t you going to call her?”
“I’m giving her some time to cool off.” He held the door. “Come on in.”
“Your mother’s never liked Sophia,” she said as she passed him.
“My mother likes you,” he told her.
Her lips curved in a grudging smile. “That’s an accomplishment. She’s not easy to please.”
“That’s an understatement.” He chuckled. “Are you hungry? I requested pasta.”
“Smells delicious.” She drew him to her for a kiss. He purposely deepened it, searching for that same fire in his belly he’d always
felt for Sophia, wanted it to consume him to the point that he had to carry her up to his bedroom right this second, dinner be damned. But it wasn’t there. He felt the same respect and affection he’d always felt—that was all.
Pulling away, he smiled to conceal his disappointment. “Come see what we’ve got,” he said and took her hand as he led her to the kitchen.
On the counter, he found a note from Sophia.
Pasta is in the oven. Don’t wait too long to serve it, or it will dry out. Warm the bread for 15 minutes first. Wine is chilling in the fridge with the salad. Homemade vinaigrette is in the small pitcher. The cheesecake can be served with or without berries on top.
S
P.S. Matches on table
For the candles. To add to the romantic atmosphere. He got that.
“She’s gone to a lot of trouble to make it nice.” Eve sounded slightly petulant, but she was the one who’d asked to come here. They could just as easily have had dinner out or at her place. Ted was fairly certain she’d wanted to scope out the situation, to stake her claim—not that he could blame her.
He was carrying the salad and wine into the dining room when the doorbell rang for the second time in fifteen minutes.
“I’ll get it,” Eve said and before he could return to the kitchen for the bread, his mother walked into the room.
* * *
Sophia had brought some of what she’d cooked home so she could have dinner with Alexa in the guesthouse. They’d eaten together. Now they were lying on her bed, staring at the shadows the lamp cast on the ceiling. They still had unpacking to do, but this quiet moment was the best she’d had all day. Alexa never used to rest her head on Sophia’s shoulder when Skip was alive, not since she’d been a very small child.
“That was such a good dinner,” Alexa said.
“I liked it, too,” Sophia responded.
“I bet Ted thinks you’re the best cook in the world. I bet he’s glad he hired you.”
Had Ted and Eve enjoyed it? They’d been in the back of her mind ever since she’d left the main house. But she refused to succumb to the jealousy that slithered beneath her skin. She’d spent her own money at the grocery store for the flowers and candles because she’d wanted, in her own small way, to thank them for all they’d done. She wanted Ted to be happy and knew a woman like Eve could do that for him.