Mark arrived first, a bag filled with her favorite lunch in his hand.
“I hope you’re hungry,” he said, holding the bag up. “They were having a special.”
Jo looked up, surprise not a strong enough word to express the feelings raging through her. “Mark,” she said stupidly, as though he had just returned from a twenty-year absence.
He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. He stood in front of her desk, reminding her of a child standing for punishment in the principal’s office, and studied her face with a growing look of regret on his face. “About last night—”
“Isn’t that the beginning of some god-awful joke?” Jo asked. She didn’t know what he was about to say. All she knew was that she couldn’t take another of those, it’s not you it’s me speeches. Not from him.
Jo moved around the desk and took the bag of burritos from him on her way to the couch. “I hope you remembered the salsa this time.”
“I don’t think I could forget.” He turned and watched her settle herself on the couch. She kept her head bowed, studying the contents of the greasy bag as though it was the best looking meal she had ever had.
“Jo?”
She shook her head. “Please, don’t,” she whispered.
“Don’t what?” he asked.
“Please don’t talk about last night. I don’t want to hear how it was a mistake, how we shouldn’t have. I don’t think I could—”
“It wasn’t a mistake.”
She looked up, unsure she had heard him correctly. He was still there, still watching her with that same regret in his eyes. Then he came to her, kneeling in front of her. He took her hands and held them tight between his own.
“You are the last person I want to hurt, but it seems like every time I turn around, that’s exactly what I’m doing.”
“You have a lot on your plate right now,” she said.
“Yes, but that’s no excuse.” He stared down at their entwined hands for a minute, and she just watched, unsure of what he was trying to say, but unable to once again squash that balloon of hope slowly filling in her chest.
“My kids are my priority,” he finally said. “They are everything to me and I have to do all I can to protect them.” He looked up at her, studied her face. “I know you understand that.”
“I do.”
“Then you’ll understand when I tell you that I care about you, Jo. And what happened last night, it was something I have dreamed of so many times over the past weeks. But I just—” he groaned, releasing her hand to rub his temples. “I can’t move this fast, not when I have my kids to think about. Not with the custody battle coming up. Do you understand?”
Before Jo could answer, before she could assure him that she was willing to wait a lifetime if that was what he wanted, before she could tell him to do whatever he needed to do, there was a tap on her door followed by her sister’s head popping into the office.
“Hey, Jo. I thought we could—”
Mark pulled away and stood up as Emily came the rest of the way into the room, clearly surprised to find Jo with a man. Jo could see the appraising look she gave him, could see that she was impressed with what she saw. A flash of memory burst through Jo’s mind, of the first time Emily met Ryan. Suddenly she felt cold and was sure nothing would ever warm her again.
“Emily, this is Mark,” Jo said in a stiff, cold voice. “Mark, my sister, Emily.”
Mark crossed the room and offered Emily a hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Jo’s told me a lot about you.” Isn’t that what Ryan said, too?
“I think she’s mentioned you once or twice, too,” Emily said as he gently grasped her hand, then let go. Emily looked over at Jo, her eyebrows raised in an unasked question.
“We were just—” Jo began when Mark interrupted.
“I was just going. You two enjoy your lunch.”
He was gone before Jo could do anything to stop him.
“He’s really cute,” Emily said as she plopped down on the couch beside Jo.
“Yeah, he is,” Jo said.
Suddenly the idea of food left Jo nauseated. She dropped the bag of burritos on the cushion between her and Emily. Then she stood, absentmindedly brushing the wrinkles from her skirt as she moved to the window. She tried not to let her mind go where it shouldn’t, tried not to see too much in what Mark had said. But it was so hard not to. A moment ago, she would have bought every word he said, she would have trusted blindly and promised him anything. But not now. Reality was harsh. She had been here before. How many times would she let a man walk all over her before she learned her lesson?
“Are you okay?” Emily asked. “Did I interrupt something?”
“No. Nothing,” Jo said, surprised by the calm, the steel, in her voice.
“Jo?” Emily moved up behind her and Jo felt Emily press a hand to her shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
A giggle, lost in a sob, escaped Jo’s lips. She found herself imagining Mark with Emily. She could easily see him with a glamorous woman, a woman who put more value in a good stick of lipstick than a dozen high-priced stock certificates. It was all an excuse, a way of keeping her from making things more difficult for him. He didn’t want her any more than he had wanted to leave the Army, than he had wanted his divorce.
Why was she so blind?
Chapter 18
Jo walked Emily out to her car, assuring her the whole way that she only had work trouble on her mind. “Are you sure?” Emily asked for the zillionth time, beginning to push Jo’s patience to the limit.
“I’m fine, Emily,” Jo sighed. “Go home and worry about something else. Like a certain upcoming wedding.”
Emily studied her face for a long second. “I know you too well to believe a word you’re saying,” she said with a stubborn glint to her eye. “But I’ll go just because that’s what you want.”
Jo kissed her cheek lightly and stepped back as Emily pulled out of the lot.
Tired, and feeling a little out of sorts, Jo wandered back into the lobby. She told herself that she should not jump to conclusions. Mark came to her, he apologized and explained himself. She should be more understanding, should learn to trust. But trust was something that did not come easy to her anymore.
Jo was so lost in thought that she did not see Robert, the security guard who manned the main desk, until she had nearly walked right into him.
“Hey, pretty lady,” he said with a hearty chuckle. “That was a near disaster.”
“Sorry,” Jo mumbled to the floor.
“Jo?” he said with concern. “You okay?”
“I’m fine, Robert,” she said. She even forced a smile to support her words, but knew he could see right through her. Robert was a kindly gentleman, one of a lost age. He had worked in this building longer than BerCo had owned it, always greeting each and every worker with a smile and an anecdote if they would stay around long enough to listen. With the exception of her secretary, Sandy, Robert was the only coworker Jo looked forward to seeing each day.
Robert studied her face for a minute. “Do me a favor?”
“Anything,” Jo said, this time her smile genuine.
“Watch the desk for me. After I visit the facilities, we’ll have a nice little chat.”
He sounded so much like her father that Jo’s eyes momentarily filled with tears. She blinked quickly and nodded, choking out a simple response before Robert patted her shoulder and walked away.
Jo dropped her satchel behind the desk and curled up in Robert’s oversized office chair. She found herself thinking about her dad. He was the one person she could go to with any problem and, even if he did not have a specific answer, he always had something to say that would make the hurt go away. She wondered what he would say now if she went to him about Mark. Would he tell her to trust that Mark would not turn from her again? Or would he tell her that she could do better?
Lost in thought, Jo didn’t hear the front doors open or see the sheriff’s deputy until he cle
ared his throat. With a blush bringing color to her pale face, Jo stood to greet the visitor.
“Can I help you?”
The deputy looked at some official papers in his hand. “I need to speak to Mark Rutledge. Can you tell me what floor he’s on?”
“Two,” Jo said automatically, her mind immediately wondering where this was going. Was she about to see Mark arrested? “But you can’t go up there. It’s a restricted area.”
The deputy leveled his dark gaze on her. “I have some papers I need to serve him.”
Relief mixed with a new anxiety made Jo’s limbs weak even as she reached for the phone. “I’ll have the operator page him.”
“I appreciate it,” the deputy said.
After making the call and hearing the page over the phone’s intercom, Jo settled back into Robert’s chair. She watched the deputy as he stood off to the side, his paperwork clutched in his hand and a cell phone pressed to his ear. Robert came back and, after ascertaining that everything was under control, tried to draw Jo into a conversation. She barely heard a word he said, but the second the elevator arrived on their floor she was on her feet.
Mark hesitated as he stepped off the elevator and saw her sitting behind the desk. Jo gestured toward the deputy. Taking his cue from Mark’s arrival, the deputy stepped forward. “Mr. Rutledge?” he asked.
Mark strode toward the deputy. “Yes.”
“Mr. Mark Rutledge?”
“Yes,” Mark repeated.
“You’ve been served,” the deputy said, handing Mark the papers he had been carrying. Then he held up a clipboard and asked Mark to sign it. “Have a good day,” the deputy said as he walked away. As if he hadn’t just blindsided Mark out of his sense of safety.
Jo went to Mark’s side the instant the deputy was gone. He was leafing through the large bundle of papers. Jo could see the words “custody of minor children” at the top of the first page. Her heart sank. “Oh, Mark,” she whispered.
When he looked up, Jo could see just how deeply this was cutting him. Everything forgotten, she wanted to pull him into her arms and hold him. She wanted to offer words of sympathy and comfort. She wanted to make his pain go away.
“I’m sorry, Jo,” he sighed as he turned away.
Again.
Chapter 19
Jo was in the kitchen, elbow deep in bread dough, when the phone rang. She looked at her hands and thought briefly about ignoring the phone’s insistent wailing. Then it crossed her mind that it might be Mark. That forced her to grab the phone just seconds before it would have sent the call to voice mail.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Jo.”
Jo grunted as she punched down the dough one last time and covered it lightly with a cheese cloth. “Jack,” she said.
“The one and only.”
Jo grabbed a handful of paper towels and began scrubbing dough from her hands as she balanced the phone between her shoulder and ear. “How’s Kyra?” she asked.
“Almost two weeks overdue. The doctor said if she doesn’t go into labor in the next two days they’re going to induce.”
“I bet that’s something of a relief at this point.”
“Yes. Kyra is very uncomfortable.”
Jo could hear the concern in Jack’s voice. She could imagine him catering to Kyra’s every need, doing all the chores he hated so that she could rest. It was a very domestic scene that three years ago Jo couldn’t have imagined Jack taking part in. But that was before Kyra.
“How are you holding up?” she asked.
“It’s not about me, as my mother keeps reminding me,” Jack said with a sigh. “I could use a beer with the guys, but otherwise I guess I’m just as anxious for this to be over as Ky is.”
“I can understand that.” Jo threw out the paper towels and turned her attention to the fresh pasta bubbling on the stove. “How’s everything else? Work?”
“Great,” Jack sighed. “Same as always. How are you?”
“I’m fine.”
“Come on, Jo.” Jack paused for a second, waiting for her to say something. When she didn’t, he said, “I know you better than this. Tell me what’s got you cooking so intently.”
“What makes you think I’m cooking?”
“I can hear the click of that ancient kitchen timer.”
Jo glanced at the timer, a rustic egg shaped timer she had found at a yard sale years ago. Somehow it just made the whole process of cooking so much more fun that the digital timers all her appliances seemed to come with. It reminded her of her grandmother cooking on Sunday afternoons when she was little.
“Okay, you’ve got me there.”
Jack chuckled lightly. “So tell me what’s going on. Is it the wedding?”
That caught Jo by surprise somehow. She hadn’t really thought about the wedding much in the last few weeks, except for when she was with Emily. Not that she had dwelled on it much before. She had made peace with Emily and Ryan’s relationship. At least she felt like she had. But maybe she hadn’t made peace so much as came to a place where she could live with it. Now, however, it just didn’t seem as important as the mess she kept walking into with Mark.
“No,” she said quietly. “No, it’s not that.”
“Then what?”
Jo leaned against the counter, carefully moving out of the reach of the popping tomato sauce simmering on the stove. “I met someone.”
“Oh?”
Jo told Jack about Mark, about their first kiss, their dinner out, the whole fiasco after dinner. She told him everything up to the moment Mark turned from her after being served with custody papers. It didn’t take long, but it felt like she had ripped a huge scab from her soul and was allowing it to weep freely in front of Jack.
“It sounds like he really likes you, Jo.”
Jo tried to laugh, but it was choked back by a sob. “Then why does he keep turning away from me?”
“Because he is obviously still dealing with his past. That’s something he has to deal with first if the two of you have any chance of working.”
“But what do I do in the mean time?”
“Stand up for yourself. Insist that he let you support him through this or break it off.”
Jo groaned. “I can’t do that, Jack.”
“Yes, you can. You are a strong woman, Jo, stronger than you give yourself credit for. But you have to stop hiding and start fighting for yourself.”
“And how do I do that?”
Jack was quiet for a minute. Finally he said, “That’s something you have to figure out for yourself, Jo.”
They talked for a while longer, but Jo’s mind kept going over that part of their conversation. Even after they had hung up and Jo moved around the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on her dinner—half of which ended up in more containers in the fridge—she couldn’t stop hearing his words. She had to fight for herself. How many times would she hear those words before they finally began to make sense to her?
Her whole life was out of control.
She needed a change.
But she didn’t know how to go about it.
The phone rang again, but this time Jo ignored it. Instead, she sat back on the couch and began making a list on a legal pad. In one column she wrote all the things she wanted to change about her life. First she wrote her mother’s name, determined not to let her mother continue to guilt her into doing things she didn’t want to do anymore. She would demand respect, would set things right between them. Second she wrote job. No more would Becca give Jo all the grunt work. Jo wanted to be treated with respect and to do that, she had to prove herself less of a push-over somehow. And third was Emily. As much as Jo loved Emily, she needed to change the dynamics of their relationship. Jo no longer wanted to be afraid of Emily outshining her. Jo wanted to be as confident as Emily, she wanted to learn how to be a social butterfly just like her sister. There was so much she could learn there, if she could just stop being so afraid all the time.
In another column, Jo w
rote down all the things she loved about her life. Her couch, her music, her movies, her books, her cooking. These things she wouldn’t change. Instead, these things she vowed to spend more time on, devoting more time to the simple pleasures in life. If she was going to be alone, then she needed to find enjoyment in that.
Last, Jo wrote Mark’s name in both columns. She didn’t know what to do about him, didn’t know if there was even a future there. But she knew she wanted there to be. She knew she wanted anything he was willing to give, even if it had to wait until his fight for his kids was over, even if it meant allowing him to turn away a few more times before he could decide what it was he wanted from her.
The next morning, Jo was lost in thought as she walked into the building. Robert called to her from his perch behind the security desk.
“Hey, Robert,” she said with a smile.
“You okay today, kiddo? We never really had a chance to talk yesterday.”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said with a smile. A smile that wasn’t forced, a smile that didn’t hide anything behind it. It felt good.
“That’s great,” Robert said. “I hate to see a great girl like you brooding around.”
“How can that happen with you here?”
Robert was nearly blushing at the compliment. Jo kissed his cheek lightly before rushing to join the crowd headed for the elevators. Jo found herself humming under her breath as the elevator took her to her floor, causing some of her coworkers to look sideways at her. Jo simply smiled and continued on.
Sandy was waiting for her in her office when she walked in.
“Don’t you look happy,” Sandy said. “I like the new do.”
Jo reached up and touched the soft curls that fell casually around her face. “Didn’t feel like the ponytail today,” she said.
“It suits you,” Sandy said. Then her smile disappeared and Jo knew she was in for trouble. “Becca wants to see you.”
Jo groaned. “What now?” she asked, meaning it as a rhetorical question.
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