All Said and Undone (6 page)

He gave her a look as if he didn’t believe her entirely. “No, I wanted to let you know I’m all settled in. Wanted to make sure you secured everything.”

She pushed up from the bed with a weak smile. “Yes. We are on lockdown.”

His mouth twisted at her facetious remark. “You can never be too safe.” He took a cautious step inside. “Are you positive you don’t want me to sleep in here with you? We could draw a line down the bed. Or I could sleep on the floor.”

She held the need to sigh. Was she sure? No. Absolutely positive they would likely end up doing everything
but
sleep?
Yes
.

“I’m not going to change my mind, Jack.”

He nodded, turned to leave, then snapped his fingers. “There’s something I need to ask you. My mother and stepfather just got back from Europe and she wants to have dinner with us. I couldn’t say no. I was wondering, or hoping, you’d come. I haven’t told her about us. The separation, I mean. I was sort of hoping I wouldn’t need to. I also didn’t want to have to explain it over the phone while she was abroad. You know how she is.”

Of course he would avoid talking about them to his mother. Everything had to look perfect for her. “What do you mean? We’re supposed to pretend we haven’t been living apart?”

“All I’m asking is that you be there for dinner. Do you really want her to know about our problems right now?”

Grace closed her eyes at the weight of that question. And how casually he said it, as if asking what dress she’d wear to dinner. But he was right. Claire Crandall, well, Claire Williams now, was the one woman who hadn’t supported Jack and Grace’s relationship. If she knew they were on the rocks, she would never let it die that she’d been “right all along,” a constant refrain in that deigning, cultured voice of hers.

Grace sighed. “All right.”

He crossed his arms with a raised brow. “You make it look as though you’d rather stuff bamboo under your fingernails. It’s just dinner. You don’t have to do this. I can make up an excuse why you can’t come.”

True. She didn’t have to do it, but a part of her wanted to. “You shouldn’t have to make excuses for me. It’s only dinner, like you said. If I can handle you leaving, I can handle pretending you never did—for your mother.”

“I know it’s not honest, but it’s a good way to avoid questions we can’t answer.” His mouth twitched and she would’ve missed it if she hadn’t been staring. He seemed pretty pleased with her cooperation. The fact it made him want to smile gave her butterflies. “I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Good night,” she said as he closed the door behind him. Funny how among everything else that had happened, she had now committed to eat dinner with her mother-in-law.

And all she’d really wanted from Jack was a phone call….

***

Though moving back into the house was only a small triumph, Jack felt like he’d conquered a massive obstacle.

Though he had to sleep on the other side of the house, it was a start, and a hell of a lot better than living in the apartment.

There were no guarantees, but as Jack lay on the bed that night, he couldn’t help but worry if things didn’t work out this time, and soon, he would lose Grace forever.

He hadn’t been certain she would agree to dinner, but he was certain Grace would rather stick pins in her eyes than give the impression to his mother she might have been right. That the two of them wouldn’t last and their getting married was a mistake. Jack never listened to the forewarnings, and he reminded his wife numerous times his mother’s opinion didn’t count. Nevertheless, Grace couldn’t get his mother’s frank pessimism out of her head. He also thought his mother’s doubts had sunk in a lot deeper in Grace than he’d initially understood, and when things between them got worse, those doubts kept her from him.

Grace thought he cared about his mother’s high-handed opinion where their relationship was concerned, but he didn’t. Although he loved his mother, she was always wrong about his love life, preferring he “marry with his head, not his heart.”

Jack had always thought he was using both when it came to Grace.

***

April waved a hand and snapped her fingers in Grace’s face. “Penny for your thoughts?”

Grace shook her head, blinking. “Sorry, what?”

“I owe you a penny. No seriously. What’s with you today?” her friend asked as they lunched at one of the picnic tables outside the studio.

“Oh, nothing. I’m just tired.” She groped for her iced tea. It was true. Grace had barely slept the night before, the knowledge that her husband was in the house instead of on the other side of the city, had kept her wide, wide awake. She decided to keep Jack’s stay a secret until she knew exactly what it would lead to.

April spread out her hands. “So, how was your weekend away? You
did
take my advice, right?”

Grace almost choked on her drink. “Uh, it was….”
Ruined because Jack showed up, tried to make love to me, reminding me of what I don’t, but could, have
. Then she’d walked in on a teenage burglar, which led to Jack moving back in overnight. The facts were overwhelming, and lunch was too short to get into all of it. “Fine,” she finally answered. “The weekend was fine.”

April wrinkled her freckled nose. “That’s it? It was supposed to be
therapeutic
.” She reached across the table to squeeze Grace’s hand. “Have you thought about what you’re going to do?”

Besides act like everything was right in her marriage to save face in front of his mother? “Not really. But it’ll come to me.”

Her workday ended in plenty of time for her to get ready for an evening with Jack and Claire. She’d brought fresh clothes with her so she didn’t have to drive home, and changed in one of the dressing rooms. She wore a simple, cream-colored wrap dress and heels, arranging her hair in a high bun. As she slid on a nude lip gloss in the mirror, she remembered the last time she’d worn this dress was during their weekend in Santa Barbara. They had grand plans to go out, but instead of heading to the wine tasting as scheduled, they’d made slow, intense love next to the fireplace in their hotel room.

Grace turned away from the mirror, closing her eyes as the night replayed through her mind. She recalled the heat from the fire while she lightly scraped her nails down Jack’s muscular back as he rocked inside her with loving sensuality. Their bodies were slick from the heat and exertion, moving, grinding against one another. The taste of his sweat on her lips as she licked his chest. Turning her back to him and rising on her knees as he cupped her breasts, sliding her hands over his, moaning his name. How he’d buried his face in her neck, thrusting inside her with a rhythm so sweet it made her spine curl. He’d whispered a lover’s devotion, holding her tight as she climaxed on a near sob….

It had been a perfect night.

Grace inhaled deeply, then let it out, opening her eyes. Thinking about nights in the past would only depress her, since she’d firmly placed a no-intimacy rule with Jack. She stuffed her work clothes in her oversize Betsey Johnson tote along with her makeup, and left the studio.

She arrived at the restaurant and prayed the flush from her cheeks had disappeared. Rallying all the strength she’d reserved especially for this evening, Grace plastered on a smile and walked in to the low-lit, five-star restaurant where Jack used to take her. The host escorted her to the table.

When Jack had seen her walk in, his expression was one of amiable politeness, smiling as if greeting a colleague. It crushed her he didn’t gaze at her the way he used to when she walked in a room. How she missed how his eyes would draw her in, as if she were the only woman he’d ever been attracted to.

He rose as she neared the table. “Hi, honey.”

She almost winced at the sound of the endearment. It had been so long since he’d addressed her so. Swallowing on a dry throat, she leaned in, lightly kissing his cheek. He looked darkly dashing in his black suit, a black shirt, and gray tie. “Sorry I’m late.”

Claire rose gracefully and reached out her hands. “Nonsense, we just sat down. It’s good to see you, dear.”

Grace smiled, giving her a brief hug. “Claire. You look amazing.”

“Amazing what a day at the spa can do. Thank you, darling.” Despite her sometimes harsh opinions, Claire was a loving, though reserved, mother-in-law. Grace couldn’t help but admire a woman who carried herself so well. Claire kept her gray mane—clipped by a celebrity stylist—to a clean bob and took great care in her appearance: always polished, neat, classic. Grace hoped one day she would age half as well. It probably didn’t hurt that Claire had remarried a wealthy retiree who spoiled her shamelessly. After all, he’d just spent over a year in Europe and bought them a cottage in Italy, all because Claire had suggested the foreign fresh air was good for his constitution.

Grace sat across from Jack at the table instead of next to him.

“Bring us a bottle of Domaine François Ravenau, please,” Jack said.

“Excellent, sir. What year?”

Jack looked pointedly at Grace. “The twenty-ten would be perfect.”

“Right away, Mr. Crandall.”

Her heart leaped, and she avoided his gaze as the server handed her a leather-bound menu. He’d just ordered her favorite bottle of French wine….and simultaneously reminded her of all the times he’d surprised her with it. The first time they ever made love, the night he proposed. They’d gotten married in 2010 and one of his gifts to her had been a bottle of the wine she loved—with a card informing her she couldn’t open it until their tenth anniversary.

Too bad they’d barely made three years toward that mark.

Although she didn’t think she could eat much on such a nervous stomach, Grace ordered the sea bass. A variety of breads and butter were served along with the wine.

Claire picked up her glass. “What should we toast to?”

Jack lifted his. “To the two beautiful women in my life, of course.”

Both of whom had been miles away from his life, until recently: one by travel, the other by choice. Grace swallowed the little knot forming in her throat, swept up her glass, and touched hers to Claire’s and Jack’s, hoping neither would see the pain in her eyes. Sitting across from him had been a bad idea. Every time she looked up, he was gazing at her with those intense blue eyes, as if daring her to squirm. She lifted her chin and took a sip of the Chablis. He wasn’t the only one who could wear the cloak of pride.

“Well,” Claire said, breaking the silence, “I’ve been in Europe too long. We have so much to catch up on. How is your promotion going, Jack?”

Grace’s eyes shot to his. “Promotion?”

His left brow rose a fraction. “Yes, the one I received last month. Have you forgotten already?”

A wife who lived with him would’ve known about something significant like this, of course. Grace scrambled to correct her outburst. “Oh,
that
one. I thought maybe you’d gotten another one you didn’t tell me about.” Lame recovery, but she tried.

Claire laughed. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you were promoted all the way to the top. What’s your new title?”

Grace wanted to sigh in frustration. His ladder-climbing was the very reason their marriage hung by a thread. So much of his time spent at work or on the road instead of at home. Though she was guilty of it, too, but mainly because Jack had started working like a madman.

“The promotion happened more or less due to default,” he explained. “The position had opened up unexpectedly, and I agreed to take it on. I’m an executive director now. They want me to implement plans for a new call center in Denver.”

“How wonderful!” his mother said, looking impressed. “Will you have to relocate? I adore Denver.”

Grace frowned slightly, noticing Claire said “you” as if Jack would be moving alone. Although Claire likely meant the both of them, and Grace was just being paranoid. “Relocating isn’t necessary,” Jack said. “I’ll be flying to Denver twice a month. L.A. is our home, and I want to keep it that way.”

Grace’s heart tugged over that small word “our.” If only he felt as strongly about their marriage.

He could’ve at least sent her an e-mail about the promotion. She’d always stood by his accomplishments, made an effort to fit in with his corporate buddies and their wives—albeit a reluctant effort.

“And how about you, darling?” Claire asked Grace, putting the spotlight on her. “How is the artiste of the family?”

Grace beamed a smile, which she was sure didn’t appear all that genuine. “Busy. In fact I have to turn down a lot of clients these days. Right now I’m under contract for that new show,
Housewife Secrets
. Have you heard of it?”

Anyone that turned on the TV or picked up a magazine once in a while knew about
Housewife Secrets
. It was the latest hot drama series and she helped make the actresses nearly doll-like for the camera.

By the twinkle in her eyes, Claire had heard of it. “Oh yes, my friend Iris is always carrying on about it. You must be getting very good at your job. I can’t wait to tell the ladies at home you do the makeup for the
Housewife
stars!”

Grace had always been good, and very successful, at her job. But Claire never thought it was as impressive as Jack’s, didn’t think making up celebrities was a serious career. It seemed she was finally giving her credit now.

“How long has it been since you’ve been doing
that
show? I can never keep up,” Jack said in a loaded tone. Guess she could have sent him an e-mail, too.

“Two months now,” Grace said as the server brought more wine.
Yes, keep filling it
.

“Well, with the two of you working so hard, it’s no wonder I haven’t heard the news of any babies yet,” Claire said.

“We’re not ready—” Jack said at the same time Grace burst out with, “It isn’t time.”

Claire looked from her son to Grace in reluctant amusement. “Are you even thinking of having kids someday, or am I going to be the only woman in my circle with no grandchildren to spoil?”

Grace’s eyes met with Jack’s. So many unspoken emotions ran through her, she could barely check the tears from filling her eyes. When Jack spoke, his voice was soft, yet tinged with strain. “One day at a time.”