Couples Like Us

by Mary Campisi

  “Should I go?” He really was on the fence about it.

  Nicki leaned forward, kissed him. “You should go, see what it’s all about, collect your money, and come back to us. That cash can serve as a good down payment. Then, maybe you can sit down with Tate and see if he’s interested in a joint venture for a second restaurant. He’s a good businessman; he’ll have an idea about how to move forward, and Camille says he’s always looking for a business opportunity.”

  “What if I just talked to him and skipped California?” Then he wouldn’t have to leave Nicki and the girls at all.

  She snuggled closer. “I think you should go to California and then I think you should come back and talk to Tate. Camille thinks he’d be open to the idea.”

  “You talked to Camille about it?” It was hard enough to share dreams with his wife, let alone outsiders. She kissed his jaw, murmured, “I mentioned it. She’s trying to find purpose and I want to help her. We talked about opportunities and what that meant for people. She’s the one who asked if you would ever consider expanding. I didn’t flat-out tell her that’s what you wanted but said you’d be open to discussing it.”

  Jameson relaxed. His wife was his best friend and looked out for him even when he didn’t realize he needed it. “Thank you. And I’m sorry my mother brought up…” He did not want to say his ex-girlfriend’s name, especially when he was in bed with the woman he loved.

  Nicki let out a long sigh. “I know. But I guess in some ways I have to thank her for getting me kicked out of Chicago. If it hadn’t happened, I never would have come to Reunion Gap...never would have fallen in love with Christmas...or you.”

  He could not imagine life without Nicki or the children. “It’s what my mother calls destiny. It was bound to happen and there wasn’t a damn thing we could do about.” He’d never believed that before Nicki, but how else could he explain it?

  “This trip to California is destiny, too. You’ll see. In a few weeks you’ll be back and we’ll be celebrating Thanksgiving.” She kissed him, whispered, “Who knows what else is in store for us? Maybe an expansion?”

  “You do mean the restaurant, right?” Something in her tone made him wonder if she was talking about more than restaurant expansion. Olivia was three and Rebecca was just a little over a year old. While they hadn’t talked about expanding their family, they hadn’t talked about not expanding either.

  Laughter trickled over him, pulled him in. “I’m talking about the restaurant, silly. But who knows what might happen in the future? Destiny may decide for us.”

  Chapter 8

  Jameson left Reunion Gap one frosty October morning and headed for California and opportunity, as his wife called the trip that would provide a sizeable contribution to their expansion dream. A month away from his family was a long time but Parker Norris, the man who’d recruited him and owned half of the Laguna Beach restaurant, had big plans and a frenetic schedule. Seven days flew by with meetings, dinners, and consultations.

  And then came day eight.

  Jameson had just stepped off the elevator and was making his way to Parker’s office when he spotted her. “Giselle?” He stared at the woman from his past, took in the pearls, the tailored suit, the high heels. “What are you doing here?”

  She smiled and her green eyes sparkled. “Surprise! I’m the other half of the company.” The smile spread, the sparkle in her eyes grew brighter. “I’m the one responsible for getting you this deal. Parker was hesitant at first, but you know how persuasive I can be when I find something I want.”

  Yeah, he remembered and wished he didn’t. “So, this was all for show? Parker didn’t ‘find’ my old restaurant or become obsessed with replicating my style in Laguna Beach?” The beginnings of a serious headache banged against Jameson’s right temple like a warning sign that things were going to get worse.

  “Of course he loved your work, why wouldn’t he?” Giselle waved a hand in the air, dismissing his concern. “Let’s talk about it in my office.” She motioned toward the office he’d assumed was Parker’s. “It’s more comfortable and we can get into details—” she paused, placed a small hand on his shirtsleeve and said in the voice she’d once used to persuade him to do whatever she wanted “—and maybe I’ll find a way to work that frown off your face.”

  Jameson hesitated, caught between the desire to work on a project that gave him the freedom to create, and the feeling that there were enough strings attached to this agreement to make a noose. But what could she do to him? He was a married man with a wife and children. Giselle Robard was a spoiled debutante with too much money and too little to keep herself busy. Maybe she’d finally found something that gave her purpose. Still, it might not be a bad idea to lay the groundwork as in I’m married and not interested or available and—

  “Let’s get started, okay? I’m anxious to hear your thoughts.”

  That sounded innocent enough. He followed her into the office, headed for the chair on the opposite side of the large walnut desk where he and Parker had met that first day. The other meetings had always been in the boardroom or on location.

  “Let’s sit over here,” Giselle called from across the room, easing onto a leather couch. She patted the spot next to her. “It’s more comfortable.” When he didn’t follow, she winced. “I can’t sit for extended periods since the ski accident in Utah. It’s my back.” Another wince, a breathy, “Physical therapy and massages help, but I’ve got to be so careful not to exacerbate the condition.” She pointed to the high-backed chairs, winced yet again. “I opt for comfort whenever I can.”

  What to say to that? He couldn’t very well demand she move when she’d just confessed to a back injury. Still...Giselle had been known to fabricate. The low moan of discomfort made him push the doubt aside and join her on the couch—out of touching distance. Injury or not, this was a woman who could only be trusted so far.

  “I don’t bite, honest.”

  Was he being a fool? Just because he and Giselle had a past didn’t mean she wanted to re-create that past, did it? For all he knew, she was with the guy she’d dumped him for; maybe she’d even married him. He glanced at her left hand, homed in on her naked ring finger. Or maybe not.

  “Divorced.”

  “Oh, sorry to hear that.”

  She shrugged. “It was wrong from the beginning.”

  He was not going to get near that one. Whatever happened to make it wrong from the beginning was not his business. Jameson grabbed the first question that landed through his brain. “So how is it that a woman bent on organizing charities finds herself in the restaurant business?”

  “That’s an easy one. Restaurants remind me of you.”

  What to say to that? Those green eyes sparked, tried to work their way past his defenses. Good luck with that. He loved his wife and whatever he and Giselle had shared had been ill-fated and long over. Unfortunately, he wasn’t sure she understood that. “The restaurant business is difficult enough if you don’t have the passion. I’m sure you can hire people to do the hard work, but you still have to know what’s happening or you won’t make it.”

  “I agree and that’s why I asked you here. You can provide the head start we need, create the menus, the look, the style. You always had such a style; everybody felt it. Oh, Jameson, The Oak Bench was never the same after you left.” Pause and a soft, “Neither was I.” Her eyes shimmered with tears. “If only I’d been more patient... Instead I believed a man who smothered me with promises and attention when you weren’t available. I should never have listened to him...he wasn’t real.”

  Ah, he bet this was the man she’d dumped him for...the one who listened to her feelings, told her he cared. “Sorry to hear that.”

  She moved toward him, covered his hand with hers. “I never should have left you, and I am so sorry I hurt you.”

  He eased his hand away, out of reach. “It’s history. We learn and grow and I like to think we’re better for it.”

  “I’m not better for it. I
’m worse for it. So much worse… And if I could only go back.” Giselle leaned toward him, held his gaze, said in the softest voice, “I’d do anything for another chance.”

  Was she propositioning him? “Giselle. Stop. If you brought me out here for anything but business, you can forget it. It’s never going to happen.”

  She nodded, sipping air as though she couldn’t breathe. “I know. I know you’d never cheat either because you’re an honorable man. I should have chosen you. I should not have picked a man who told me what I wanted to hear. Why didn’t I listen to my heart?” The tears started then, pouring out what he’d guess were sadness, grief, and regret.

  “It wasn’t meant to be, Giselle. Can we just leave it at that?” He didn’t like shows of emotion like this unless they were from his wife. What guy really did? Not him and he bet not many others.

  “I guess we’ll have to, won’t we?” Another sniff. “You know, I got the restaurant in the divorce. I didn’t get much but I made sure I got it.” Her lips pulled into a smile, reminiscent of the old Giselle, the manipulator who did not understand the word no. “I own the restaurant and I made sure he lost everything else. That’s what happens when a man cheats me out of what I deserve. No one will hire him in Chicago, and he’ll never do a deal again. I made sure of it.” She caught him looking, said in a quiet voice, “Not all marriages are meant to last.”

  Jameson cleared his throat. “Sorry to hear that.” How do I change this conversation?

  She lifted a petite shoulder. “You were the only one who was ever able to make me happy, but I was too selfish to realize the world didn’t revolve around me.” A long, dramatic sigh followed. “I am so sorry I hurt you.”

  He really did not want to have this ancient discussion. “Hey, it’s over and forgotten.”

  “Is it?” She studied him as though she wanted to crawl inside his head and poke around. “I’ve got a lot of regrets, but the biggest one is you.”

  “Giselle—”

  “I know. You love your wife and you don’t want to hear some former girlfriend’s sad story about how she mistreated you. But I did mistreat you and I’ve paid for it.” She rubbed a temple, sucked in a deep breath. “That’s one of the reasons I had Parker contact you. Of course, you’re talented and you’d make any restaurant great, but I owe you for what I did.” She sniffed, bit her bottom lip. “You cared about me, wanted to marry me and I threw it and your intentions away as though they didn’t matter. As though you didn’t matter.”

  The tears started up again, trickling from her cheek to her chin, landing on her blouse. He hated tears, hated the whole shoulder-shaking-lip-quivering business of it, and would do just about anything to avoid them. “Don’t cry.” He leaned toward her, placed a hand on her shoulder. “Giselle. Please. Don’t cry.”

  She swiped at her eyes, offered him a half smile. “I’m sorry, truly...for ever hurting you. Please, say you forgive me.”

  “I forgive you.” He’d say anything to get those tears to stop.

  “And that you’ll work with me on this project and not let our past interfere with it.”

  Jameson pushed past the warning that told him this could come back to bite him and nodded. “Sure. I’ll work with you and not let the past interfere with the project.”

  “Oh, thank you!” Giselle sniffed once more, sat up straight and offered a bright smile. “You won’t regret it. You’ll see.”

  He didn’t like the little smile she gave him as though she held a secret just for him. “What about Parker? How does he fit into the project?” Working with him had been easy and productive, maybe because the guy agreed to everything Jameson recommended. Was that the plan all along? Was Parker Norris the fill-in for the real decision maker—Giselle Robard?

  Big smile, a dip in her voice bordering on sultry. “Parker’s still involved, but you’ll work directly with me from now on.”

  Not what he wanted to hear. “Giselle, let’s get something straight. The past is over. I don’t think about it anymore. Neither should you. You didn’t need to offer up a job with a big dollar tag because you feel guilty or want to make amends. I’m fine. My life is fine.” He paused, held her gaze. “If we work together, it would only be about the job; you understand that, right?”

  “Of course I do. If you found your slice of heaven in that quaint little town you’re from with the woman who used to dress my dog, and poorly I might add, then good for you.”

  He ignored the rude comments, pushed on. “Okay, just wanted to get that out there in case there was any confusion. Glad to hear we understand one another.” Nicki was not going to be happy about this. In fact, she’d be furious.

  “Trust me, we understand one another.” She toyed with the strand of pearls dangling from her neck. “No doubt about that.”

  Jameson tried to determine her sincerity, but with a woman like Giselle, it was impossible. He’d have to keep an eye on her and set her straight if she tried to make their arrangement anything other than business. Nicki would have a lot to say about his ex-girlfriend being involved in the deal, starting with how he’d been played and ending with how he should hop on the next plane home. But what if he could convince her to let him hang on so he could collect the money and use it for an expansion? They could count down the days and get through it, couldn’t they? Nicki knew she didn’t have to worry about him with another woman, but Giselle’s next words said maybe he should rethink his position on how much to divulge to his wife. Maybe he should keep his mouth shut until he got home and could tell her face-to-face.

  “I’m no relationship expert, but you might not want to tell Nicki I’m here. Most women wouldn’t take too kindly to their husband working with his ex-lover.”

  A jab of pain shot straight to Jameson’s gut, made him break into a sweat. He didn’t agree with a lot of things Giselle said but she could be right on this one. Telling Nicki something she wouldn’t want to hear was better off done in person than two thousand miles away. Once he got home, he’d start from the second he spotted Giselle standing outside the office and finish with the minute he boarded the plane. But he was not going to let his ex know he was concerned about his wife’s reaction. “Nicki’s not the jealous type. We’ve got a solid relationship, and we don’t keep secrets.”

  Her laughter disputed his claim. “Oh, Jameson, your optimism was always one of the things I loved about you most.” Another trill of laughter, followed by a soft “Now why don’t we get a cup of coffee and talk about the restaurant?”

  Chapter 9

  Meredith Alexander became Nicki’s friend when Nicki still believed true love and real families didn’t exist. They’d met in Chicago where Nicki was trying to pretend she came from money and Meredith was trying to pretend she didn’t. Somewhere into the third conversation, it all came out: Nicki’s desire to forget the mother who didn’t want her, the lack of family life, the need to pretend she belonged. Meredith vowed she knew what that felt like because while she had a family, she didn’t belong. She once confessed she didn’t know where she belonged, doubted she belonged anywhere and never planned to marry. Why would I give up a piece of myself and risk ending up with a marriage like my parents? I can’t do it, I won’t. Nicki had agreed, right up until Jameson Price walked into her life.

  Meredith had been so happy when Nicki and Jameson got together. You’re perfect for each other! And they had been. Until Meredith’s phone call linking Jameson to the danger in tight skirts and stilettos from his past who just so happened to be in California working on the same deal. Meredith, protector of those in need, had found out and determined her best friend should know.

  Nicki, we need to talk. Is this a good time?

  I just put the kids to bed. What’s wrong? Meredith? You sound horrible. Are you crying?

  Sniff, sniff into the phone, followed by a garbled Oh Nicki. I don’t even know how to start. I’m sick, truly sick, by what I just found out. Part of me doesn’t want to tell you, part of me wants to stay quiet. But best fr
iends protect each other, don’t they?

  What are you talking about? What don’t you want to tell me?

  If only Meredith had let it go and kept quiet, but she didn’t. Nicki’s best friend had a way of jumping into causes and often creating “situations,” as her brother called it.

  It’s that woman. She’s back. I can’t even believe it...

  What woman?

  Giselle Robard.

  Nicki clutched the phone, sucked in a breath. Back? Back where?

  Sniff, sniff, sniff. I will not stand by and let her destroy one of the best couples I know.

  Confusion mixed with fear clung to her words. Meredith? What’s Giselle done?

  She’s in California. With Jameson. She’s part of this deal that got him out there.

  What? That makes no sense? And then, how do you know?

  I’m an Alexander, remember? I have people keeping tabs on situations and persons of interest. I’ve been watching that woman a long time, making sure she stays out of your life.

  Giselle’s in California with Jameson? That can’t be true. He would have told me. He’d never keep something like this —

  I’m telling you the truth, Nicki. I wish I were wrong. We need to stop her before she tries to pick up where she left off.

  Stop her?

  Yes, stop her. That woman doesn’t care if Jameson’s married with two children or ten, and she doesn’t even care if he loves you. She probably doesn’t believe he loves you, and that makes her dangerous. Or maybe she just wants revenge, which is just as bad. I’m not sure yet, but word has it she’s on a mission and that mission is your husband.

  When a woman learns her husband’s ex-girlfriend is trying to remove the ex from their relationship, life changes in ways she’d never anticipated and couldn’t control. And when that husband happens to be two thousand miles away and neglects to mention the presence of the ex-girlfriend to his wife during their daily conversations?