311 Pelican Court (22 page)

The reason he’d accepted this job was that
The Cedar Cove
Chronicle
was biweekly. The demands of a daily paper had
nearly strangled his personal life. For a lot of years, he’d buried himself in his work. It was easy to do, and he’d let it happen.

That had been early in his career. He’d nearly destroyed himself, first by drowning his sorrows and fears in the bottom of a bottle, and later by working himself to a state of near-collapse. That had been Jack’s attempt to deal with his son’s illness. As a young boy, Eric was diagnosed with leukemia. He later recovered, but at the time Jack had believed his only child was dying and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it, except drink and work.

During those dark years, when Jack drank, he’d functioned effectively enough at his job—usually hungover—and functioned minimally in society, as a husband, father and friend.

It was when his marriage died that he’d finally gotten the help he needed. Even then, he’d needed years to straighten himself out.

“You won’t leave Cedar Cove, will you?” Olivia asked.

Jack loved the worry he heard in her voice. Another time, he might have let her assume he’d pack up his computer and head out of town, but they were beyond that. He could no more leave Olivia than he could quit being a newsman. And he couldn’t play manipulative games with her, either. But being honest didn’t mean he couldn’t tease her a bit.

“No, I won’t leave,” he assured her. Then, holding her eyes, he added, “I could never walk away now.”

“Oh, Jack,” she sighed, gazing warmly at him.

“Yeah,” he said, “I signed a five-year contract and these people are real sticklers when it comes to contracts.”

“Jack!”

He enjoyed her indignant expression, all the while admitting that he
wasn’t
the romantic sort. He loved Olivia Lockhart,
though. Perhaps he should try harder to say the right things, but he didn’t have much practice in flowery language. If she wanted to hear that kind of nonsense, her ex-husband was probably an expert.

Thinking about Stan Lockhart was a mistake. Jack gritted his teeth. Stan irritated him with his pompous assumption that he could have Olivia back anytime he wanted. He made sure Jack knew it, too.

“Let’s order,” he said in an effort to turn his thoughts to some other subject. As he reached for the menu, he reminded himself that
he
was the one spending the evening with Olivia, not her ex.

“I’m starving,” Olivia said happily.

Jack glanced over the specials and decided on the T-bone steak. Olivia vacillated between the scallops on the list of specials and the prime rib. In the end she decided on the scallops.

“Mom said you took her to lunch,” Olivia said when their salad with shrimp piled atop Bibb lettuce was delivered by their efficient and unobtrusive waiter.

So Olivia knew about that. Drilling her mother over Olivia’s involvement with Stan hadn’t been one of Jack’s finer moments. His excuse was that not knowing was driving him to distraction.

What he’d learned had depressed him for days. Stan Lockhart was still making a hard play to win back his ex-wife. He had a lot going for him, too. Not only was he financially secure, cultured and sophisticated, but he had a shared history with Olivia and was the father of her children.

The first thing Charlotte had told him was that Stan and Olivia had spent New Year’s Eve together. Charlotte had minimized the fact by explaining that they’d both been watching Leif so Justine and Seth could go to The Lighthouse. Still, it rankled. He could bet that when the clock
struck midnight, ol’ Stan was right there with the champagne and the music, ready to give Olivia a lip-lock she wouldn’t soon forget. Jack’s jaw flexed with anger at the thought of Stan so much as touching her.

In addition, Charlotte had let it drop that Stan occasionally stayed the night in Cedar Cove. From personal experience, Jack knew he’d slept at the house on Lighthouse Road at least once. He also knew Stan had spent the night in the guest bedroom, although Stan had let Jack assume otherwise. Now he had to wonder if Stan continued to sleep over at Olivia’s.

The truth was, Jack didn’t want to know. He refused to allow Stan to drive a wedge between him and Olivia. Jack had made the mistake of letting that happen once, and as far as he was concerned, history wouldn’t be repeating itself. He was willing to fight for Olivia, dammit. He wasn’t going to step aside—and he wanted to make that very clear—to Olivia
and
her ex-husband.

“Jack?” Olivia was giving him an odd look.

“Sorry. Did you say something?” He focused his attention on her and realized Stan had nearly gotten him a second time. Without even trying, Olivia’s ex was ruining this night out.

“Did I tell you how lovely you look?” he asked.

“No, you didn’t,” Olivia told him, and propped her elbows on the table. “But I can’t wait to hear.”

Grace Sherman stared at the computer screen and held her breath. Excitement shot through her. New Orleans! Will wanted to meet her in New Orleans. He was traveling to Louisiana on business and had asked her to join him.

New Orleans was one of the most romantic cities in the world, and the thought of being there with Will sent her
heart spinning. She imagined strolling down Bourbon Street, listening to jazz musicians with Will at her side. He’d mentioned a gambling trip down the Mississippi on a riverboat, and touring historic plantations.

“I don’t know,” she typed back. She felt as nervous as she was excited.

“We should talk, and not like this. The things I want to say should be said face-to-face.” His reply was instantaneous. “I need you, Grace. You’re all I think about.”

They no longer hid their feelings from each other. Grace loved Will; it was that simple. She wanted to be with him—not just for a weekend, but forever.

Still, she lived in Cedar Cove and was employed by the town. “It’s hard for me to get time away from the library without several weeks’ notice,” she typed.

“Ask now. I’ll send you a plane ticket.”

Grace closed her eyes. The way she felt about Will, and the way he seemed to feel about her, would make it impossible for them to resist each other sexually. For weeks she’d dreamed of what it would be like. She’d created an entire fantasy about living with Will as husband and wife. For the first time in her adult life, she’d know what it was to be with a man who loved her completely. Who cherished her…

Dan had loved her; she didn’t doubt his deep affection, but he’d had so little to give her. He’d struggled with such grief and guilt and misery, it was all he could do to get from one day to the next. There’d been almost no room for tenderness and joy in his life. Grace desperately needed both.

And Cliff—he was a friend. Their relationship had been about companionship more than love, at least on her part.

Now she finally had the opportunity to know real love.

There was a problem, however, and to Grace, it was a major one.

Will was married.

“What about your wife?” she typed back. She couldn’t promise to meet him, couldn’t allow this relationship to continue if he remained committed to his marriage.

“I told you it was over,” Will typed.

“Georgia’s moved out?”

“Yes. I’ve already seen an attorney. The divorce is amicable. We should never have married. She understands.”

“She knows about us?” Grace’s fingers flew over the keys.

“I told her there was someone else. I didn’t say who it is.”

Grace had kept her relationship with Will a secret, too. They spoke via e-mail every day, often more than once, and occasionally they managed a phone call. It never ceased to astonish her how much they had to talk about.

The doorbell chimed and Grace glanced irritably over her shoulder. Buttercup ambled to the door, tail wagging.

“Say you’ll meet me,” Will urged, the words flashing across the screen. “I need to know as soon as possible. Promise me you’ll do everything you can.”

“I will, I promise,” Grace assured him, and with regret, dragged herself away from the computer when the bell rang a second time. Determined to get rid of whoever was there, she opened her door and stared at Cliff. She had to make an effort not to groan aloud.

“Cliff,” she said, unlatching the screen and holding the door open. “This is a pleasant surprise.”

“Surprise?” he repeated slowly. “I called last week. We made plans to spend the afternoon together.”

Grace vaguely remembered the conversation, but all that lingered in her mind was her eagerness to get off the phone so she could get back on the computer and talk to Will.

“Of course. It just slipped my mind. I’ll be ready in a minute.”

Cliff came into the living room and sat down on the sofa, frowning slightly.

“I was on the computer,” Grace explained. “Give me a moment while I get off-line.” She pulled out her desk chair and sat down. Her fingers went to the keyboard and she quickly typed out a message to Will, telling him she’d request vacation time. She wouldn’t know for another week or two if she’d get those days off, but with all her heart she hoped it would happen. Then she explained that she had company and needed to end their conversation.

When she’d finished, Grace whirled around in her chair and smiled warmly at Cliff. “You must think I’m an empty-headed dunce,” she said brightly, hoping to disguise the fact that she’d forgotten their date.

“Not at all,” he assured her evenly. But his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Buttercup rested contentedly at Cliff’s side, and as he ran his fingers through her fur, he frowned again.

“I’ll get my coat and be back in a moment,” Grace promised.

It didn’t take more than a couple of minutes to grab her coat, brush her hair and apply fresh lipstick.

Cliff was still petting Buttercup when she returned. He glanced up. “When was the last time you had Buttercup at the vet?” he asked.

Grace couldn’t recall, other than the first week after she’d gotten the golden retriever. “It’s been a year or so,” she said.

“I think it might be a good idea to schedule an appointment.”

“Why?” Grace was immediately concerned. Buttercup was her constant companion and friend.

“No obvious reason, other than that she seems a bit lethargic,” Cliff said, but his brow was creased. “There might be something wrong—she doesn’t seem herself. You haven’t noticed any changes in her behavior, have you?”

“None.” Grace tried to think, but nothing came to mind. The truth was, she hurried home from work every night to leap onto the computer. She realized guiltily that she hadn’t paid much attention to the dog since her correspondence with Will had begun. Often she didn’t bother to eat dinner until eight o’clock or later. Her time at home was precious because that was her only opportunity to connect with Will.

“Are you ready?” Grace asked, reaching for her purse.

“In a minute,” Cliff said. He continued to stroke Buttercup’s back, but Grace suspected he was gathering his thoughts rather than assessing her dog’s health. After a moment he stood.

“It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?” she said, unable to read his mood. This was the role she’d played far too often with Dan, doing whatever she could to put him in better spirits. So many times she’d failed. Seeing the same humorless expression on Cliff’s face depressed her. It brought back memories of her life with Dan.

“I need to ask you something,” Cliff said after a long pause.

“Anything.” Well, almost anything, she amended silently.

Cliff walked over to the window and stared outside. “We haven’t seen much of each other lately.”

“You’ve been busy,” she said with a shrug.

“True, and I suppose that’s the reason I didn’t notice earlier.”

“Notice what?” she asked.

“How emotionally distant you’ve become.”

Grace shook her head, denying it. “You’re imagining things.”

Cliff rubbed the back of his neck and turned to face her. “Funny you should use those words. That’s exactly what Susan used to say to me.”

Susan was his ex-wife. Grace raised her hands in a confused,
helpless gesture. “What’s this all about? I thought we were going to spend the afternoon together.”

“So did I,” Cliff murmured. He straightened, and his face was austere. “I can’t play this game, Grace.”

“What game?” She was losing patience with him.

“There’s someone else. You think I don’t know, but it’s clear to me. I can tell what’s happening—I’ve been there before.”

“What?” she exploded in a fit of self-righteousness. “How can you say that? Even if it
was
true,” she continued, undaunted, “it’s my business. You don’t have any claim on me.”

Cliff’s smile was sad. “You’re right, of course.”

“Don’t be like this,” she pleaded. Now that he was here, she was looking forward to going out with him, enjoying his company.

He shook his head as if to say he should have seen it earlier. “At first I assumed you were pulling away from me because of Dan. I gave you time to grieve for your husband, just like you asked.”

“Cliff, please, you’re making a crisis out of nothing.”

“Am I?” he asked.

He sounded resigned, and she briefly had the urge to walk into his arms, but Grace didn’t like the way this conversation was going.

“You say there isn’t anyone else in your life?” Cliff challenged.

She looked him straight in the eye and lied. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” No one knew about her and Will. Not even Olivia, Will’s sister and her best friend. She couldn’t let word get out, especially now, when Will and Georgia were in the middle of their divorce.

“I was sure I was going to love you the first time we met,” Cliff said. “My admiration for you grew every time we talked. You handled the situation with your missing husband
honorably, refusing to get involved with me until the divorce was final. I assumed… I believed in you.”

“You don’t now?”

“You’re forgetting something, Grace. My wife cheated on me for years. I know all the signs—the cheerful greeting, the denial, the outrage. I lived with it and tried to ignore it. I won’t again.”

Grace crossed her arms. This was getting tiresome. “You’re being ridiculous,” she said irritably.