Couples Like Us

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Couples Like Us Page 7

by Mary Campisi


  Not good.

  I miss you and the girls, he’d said the day Meredith told her about Giselle. So damn much. I can’t wait to get home. All I want is to hold you again. I love you.

  Three days later, his voice cracked when he told her, We have a lot to talk about, and when he said, I love you, there was a definite wobble.

  Was that guilt buried in those words? How did a person tell when the center of her universe was lying to her? And if she discovered he was, what then? She exhausted herself with the worry and the wondering, and each night when Jameson called, she dissected his words, his tone, his speech patterns and pauses. Were they growing more desperate or more distant? Hard to tell, as doubt over his relationship with Giselle crept into her heart, settled in her soul.

  It was this doubt that smothered her the morning Camille laid a hand on her shoulder and said in a gentle voice, “Nicki, what’s wrong?”

  “Huh? I’m sorry, what did you say?”

  Camille Alexander shook her red head, stared at Nicki’s feet. “I asked you what was going on because obviously something is. You’re wearing two different shoes, and while they’re the exact same shape and color, one has a buckle, the other a bow.”

  Nicki followed Camille’s gaze and sure enough, one flat had a gold buckle, the other a small gold bow. “Darn it. I guess I was in a hurry today and —”

  Camille raised a brow. “And that’s why your earrings don’t match either? The hoops are two different sizes, and while I know that can be stylish, it’s not your style.”

  What to say to that? I’m worried about my husband? Meredith told me Giselle Robard’s the other half of the partnership working with Jameson. She’s in California! With my husband! But Jameson hasn’t said a word about it. Not. One. Word. Now why is that?

  “Tell me,” Camille persisted. “What’s got you all in a dither?”

  “It’s nothing...”

  Camille’s expression said she wasn’t ignorant or blind, but it was her words that told Nicki she wasn’t fooling her friend. “I’ve been watching you these past few days and I figured you were just overworked, tired, and missing your husband. But when I look closer, I see the worry lines, the hesitation in your voice when you talk about Jameson. I recognize those signs and I don’t like what I’m seeing. Something’s going on between you and your husband and I want you to tell me.” She clasped Nicki’s hand, held her gaze, her blue eyes bright. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me. Please.”

  The truth spilled out, along with the worry and the doubt. “Jameson’s in California with his old girlfriend. She’s the other half of the business, but I’m sure he didn’t know that when he agreed to the deal.” She bit her lip, forced out the next words. “What I’m not sure about is how long he’s known and why he hasn’t told me.”

  Camille’s gaze narrowed, sparked with something that looked a lot like anger. “How did you find out? Did someone call you? Was it a hang-up with innuendos? Did you —”

  “Meredith told me.”

  “Meredith? Meredith, my niece? How?”

  “She’s not part of that high-end social group anymore, but she still knows what’s going on. It’s one of those things I guess that the wealthy have an aptitude for… Zero in on targets and details and discover gossip, even when you don’t want to know about it. Information flows to her from all kinds of sources. Most of it’s useless and she ignores it, but when this one reached her, she had to tell me.”

  Camille took her hand and led her to the couch, motioned for her to sit. “Why don’t I fix you a cup of chamomile tea and you can tell me everything you know? Then I’ll call my niece and find out everything she knows. And then, we’ll see what we’re going to do about this.”

  Once a woman begins to doubt the man she loves, she starts to question everything: the tone of his voice when he speaks, what he says, what he doesn’t say, the pauses between the sentences. It’s even more difficult when he’s two thousand miles away and the woman can’t see his face, study his expression or the way he moves, maybe even the way he avoids looking at her. She starts to listen to other people and look at their situations, ones that may not be anything like hers. In her desperation to find an explanation for the gaps in her own marriage, she adapts theirs, true or not. This is what Nicki did as the days passed, and Jameson remained silent about his ex-girlfriend’s presence in California.

  Finally, six days after Meredith’s discovery, Nicki realized her husband was not going to tell her. At some point, it wouldn’t matter because doubt would live inside her soul and when he talked to her, she would wonder if it were the truth, or a mere fabrication. For a woman who’d spent most of her life depending on no one but herself, it would be a brutal irony to discover the one man she’d finally trusted had not been trustworthy.

  Had he betrayed her? Betrayed his family and the dreams they’d shared? How would she know? Maybe his mother had been right all along about staying where he belonged. Maybe she knew him better than anyone, and worried that once he tasted the freedom and the opportunity to make a name for himself yet again, he would not turn away this time. Giselle Robard had always gotten what she wanted, no matter the cost. The only time she’d lost was when Jameson turned her down. Did he regret it? Did her presence rekindle his old feelings? Nicki despised the way she felt: powerless, insecure, needy. She’d had no tolerance for those kinds of women and now she’d become one of them. Is that what happened when you loved too much? Or did it happen when the other person didn’t love you enough?

  She couldn’t go on like this: not sleeping, barely eating. Whatever was or wasn’t going to happen with Jameson, Nicki was still a mother. She must be strong for her girls, no matter what the future held. That strength was tested the afternoon Jameson’s mother marched into the boutique, announcing she and Nicki needed to have a talk. That did not sound good. Nicki motioned her mother-in-law toward the back room, located a chair and offered her a seat. “Is something wrong, Thomasina?”

  She ignored the offer of a chair, crossed her arms over her round middle and said in a no-nonsense tone, “I want to know why you’re avoiding me? Is something going on between you and my son?” Those dark eyes narrowed, the lips pinched into a thin line.

  “I’ve been busy with the kids and work. Olivia has a cold again and I think Rebecca’s ears are bothering her and—”

  “I offered to help several times but you always declined my offer. Now, I want to know what’s really going on. This isn’t like you to avoid your family.”

  Family. Jameson’s family had become hers, welcomed her into their homes and lives. For a girl who’d pretty much raised herself and never been able to turn to or depend upon anyone, this was a true gift. How could she tell Thomasina what she feared might or might not be happening in California? The mere fact that she entertained the possibility said little for her faith in her marriage and less for her belief in her husband. “I wish he’d never gone.” It was the truth and it was something she could share. If Jameson had never headed to California, the doubts would not have crept through her brain, settled in her heart, and begun chipping away her faith in him.

  “Ah. I see.” Thomasina paused, placed a hand on Nicki’s arm. “Of course, you miss him. He’s your husband, the father of your children.” Another pause and a soft “The man who makes your world right.”

  Nicki nodded. From the moment she let Jameson into her heart, he had made her world right. He listened, he supported, he shared, he loved. What more could a woman want? Her husband meant everything to her and they’d had such plans... But what if California and Giselle Robard offered a way out of the routine: the lack of money, the small-town life, the responsibility of being a husband and father? What if the offer were too tempting, the dollar signs too great? Her heart told her he would never betray her, but didn’t every woman believe that before it happened? Some even as it happened? Camille Alexander was the perfect example and she’d been candid about her experience with a less-than-trustworthy husband.
I’m sure Jameson would never do what mine did, but you need to know the signs.

  “Nicki, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong. You look so pale. When was the last time you ate? Please, talk to me. Let me help.”

  The concern in Thomasina’s voice coaxed her to speak. “That’s just it. I don’t know whether I have a problem or not, but I do know Jameson hasn’t been truthful with me, and it hurts. I never thought we’d have a relationship where we wouldn’t be completely honest with each other, no matter what, and now it’s happened.” A tear slipped down her cheek. “He’s your son and you love him, and I don’t want to say anything that will cause problems between you and him.” She’d never had a mother who loved her child unconditionally; she’d barely had a mother at all. Families were fragile and love was delicate and easily destroyed if one didn’t tend it, like a garden.

  “Jameson is my son and I will always love him, though I might not always like his actions, or condone them. I care about you, Nicki, and I care about my grandchildren. If my son has done something to make you unhappy, then I want to know about it, especially if he’s done it from two thousand miles away.”

  Thomasina would not want to know about Giselle or her reappearance, Nicki was certain of that. Still, the woman had asked. “Giselle’s back in the picture.”

  “What?”

  “She showed up in California. It seems she’s part of the business deal.”

  “Part of the business deal? You mean Jameson’s deal?” When Nicki nodded, her mother-in-law shook her head, murmured, “Oh my. What did Jameson say? I’ll bet he was furious. Imagine the nerve of that woman just appearing after all this time. Why it almost makes a person think she’s been watching and waiting. Hmph.” A snarl escaped her lips, followed by an angry, “As if my son would give her a second look. When a person gets his hand bitten, he doesn’t go back and hold out the other hand. You saved him, Nicki.”

  “We saved each other.” Before Jameson, she’d been unable and unwilling to share her life or her love. He changed all of that. They loved each other, loved their children and their dreams of what they’d build together. So, why hadn’t he mentioned the ex-girlfriend who showed up and was connected to the deal?

  “I’m surprised he didn’t hop on the first flight out of there once he saw her. Is he planning to stay and see this through?” She paused, dark gaze narrowed, lips pinched. “With her?”

  “I don’t know.” Nicki let this one truth spell out. “He hasn’t said a word about her being there. He doesn’t know that I know.”

  There was no hiding Thomasina Price’s shock or disappointment. She didn’t speak for several seconds and when the words finally came, there were no condolences or assurances about how there must be a good explanation. There was nothing but a broken-hearted, soft “Oh, Nicki, what on earth is going on in my son’s head?” And then, as if the pain and doubt weren’t great enough, she added, “If he hurts you and those little girls, I will never forgive him.”

  Chapter 10

  Eleven days had passed since Giselle shocked Jameson with her presence and her announcement that she was behind the restaurant deal. When he had to spend time with her, which was often considering the sudden absence of the other partner, he waited for the innuendoes mentioning their past relationship, accompanied by offers to continue it, and of course, less-than-complimentary comments about his wife.

  But they didn’t come, and that surprised him. What she did offer were some rather astute thoughts on table arrangement, lighting, even wall décor. If anyone would know upscale chic, it would be Giselle since she’d probably dined in several of the trendiest restaurants in the country. She had a few thoughts on menu selection, too, and while he didn’t like to admit it, the woman knew what constituted an appealing choice. Maybe she had been paying attention when he’d talked about the small touches that made a big impact: shaved Parmesan, fresh-ground pepper, garlic butter. He’d just begun to relax and consider the possibility that while she regretted past choices involving him, she was interested in creating a successful restaurant.

  And then came day twelve.

  They’d just finished sampling a lamb dish he’d concocted in the restaurant’s state-of-the-art kitchen that would serve as the testing site for the menu selections. Giselle told him he could change whatever he wanted if the kitchen didn’t work for him. Change the place? Not likely. He could get used to creating in a kitchen with the biggest and best of everything. Of course, that wasn’t going to happen, but with the money he’d earn from this project he might be able to afford a mini-version for a new restaurant. And if he and Tate Alexander worked out some sort of business deal... It could happen. The possibilities saturated his brain, and the wine and jazz music relaxed him enough that he didn’t pick up on the subtle shift in Giselle’s behavior until it morphed into a not-so-subtle comment.

  “Jameson, you are truly remarkable.” She let out a sigh that stretched across the table, grabbed him. “I never appreciated your skills and I wish I had.” Another sigh, this one longer than the last, filled with regret and sadness. “Such talent and commitment. It’s admirable.” She traced the rim of her wine glass with the tip of a manicured nail. “Why is it we never realize how much we value something until it’s gone?”

  “Human nature, I guess.” Jameson sipped his wine, thought of the nights he and Nicki sat on their deck, sharing a bottle of wine and dreams of their future. He missed his wife, couldn’t wait to get out of here so he could hold her close...and tell her about Giselle. The not telling her was killing him but some things should be spoken in person, not a plane ride away, where they could be misunderstood. Nicki didn’t need the worry or the anxiety such an admission would create, especially when she truly disliked Jameson’s ex.

  He couldn’t say he blamed her. He and Giselle had once dated—okay, more than dated—they’d been close to getting engaged before she dumped him, and it had taken Nicki walking into his life to realize how unsuited he and Giselle were. But that wasn’t the only reason Nicki disliked her. Giselle had been responsible for Nicki’s “thirty-day suspension” from her personal shopping gig where she outfitted the privileged and their pooches. That still stung and Nicki refused to talk about it or the woman.

  “Human nature. I like the sound of that.”

  Something in her tone made him look up, spot the flushed cheeks, the sultry smile. He cleared his throat, pushed his wine away. He should have stopped after the last glass, but Giselle had let out a throaty laugh and warned him a gentleman never lets a lady drink alone. She’d always been good at guilting him into doing something he didn’t want to do... So, he’d had another, and that’s when he’d started to relax and his brain stopped watching for signals that said Beware. Not to be trusted. Jameson narrowed his gaze on Giselle, said in firm voice, “Giselle, what are you doing?”

  Another throaty laugh, followed by a shrug. “Listening to human nature.” She unfastened the top two buttons of her silk blouse, let it fall open.

  Jameson looked away but not before he caught a glimpse of creamy breast and red lace. Giselle prided herself on her perfect body. There’d been a time when he’d known every inch of that body, but that was before Nicki. He forced his gaze to her face, careful not to look past her chin. “Giselle, stop it.”

  “Why?” She eased back in her chair, fluffed her long hair about her shoulders. “Why do we have to stop, Jameson?” She ran her tongue along her bottom lip, watched him through half-closed eyes. “I won’t say a word. Promise. This can be our secret.” She smiled. “Besides, you were mine long before you knew she existed, so the way I look at it, she took you from me.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” Giselle could reason her way in and out of anything. Hadn’t she done that when she’d dumped him for Mr. I-know-what-you-need?

  “It’s the truth.” She fingered a diamond stud. “And here’s another truth. I want you, all of you, and I’ll take whatever you’re offering, for however long you’re offering it.�


  This was why he should not have trusted her to change. Had it ever been about the damn restaurant or had it always been about getting back at Nicki by coming after him? “This was never about the restaurant, was it? Damn you, Giselle, you used me.” Jameson pushed back his chair, stood. He should have gotten a plane home the second she showed up.

  “Why can’t it be about the restaurant…and us? You loved me; you know you did. A person who says the things you did when we were together and made the promises you made to me doesn’t change.”

  He stared at the woman he’d once thought he loved, but he hadn’t known what real love was, not until Nicki walked into his life. “I changed, Giselle. I stopped pretending and chasing a fantasy. I lost who I was when I lived in Chicago and I didn’t like who I’d become. This is the real me—” he jabbed his chest with a finger, scowled “—and you’d better take a close look because I would never betray my wife. I’m leaving as soon as I can get a flight out of here and I don’t ever want to hear from you again.”

  Giselle frowned, studied him with an intent that said maybe she’d underestimated his commitment to his wife. But there was just the slightest bit of doubt on her face that said maybe she’d underestimated how he felt about her. “Can’t you see how much we could accomplish together, how much we could have? I can give you everything you want… I can make you happy.”

  “If you make one more reference to us, I’ll make sure your mother finds out how desperate you were to get me back. She won’t like that, considering how she’s taught her little girl not to beg for anything, especially a man.” Of course, he’d never contact the woman, but Giselle didn’t need to know that.

  “Fine. You want to stick your nose up at the chance to be with me?” She tossed back her hair, let out a huff of annoyance. “Go ahead. Run to that rinky-dink town in your small life and your ordinary wife and see if that brings you happiness or money or a second of joy. Years from now, when you’re miserable and wondering how you ended up in the pathetic existence you call your life, remember you had a chance to change things and you turned it down.”

 

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