Careless Rapture (28 page)

“So did you ever consider that maybe Clay was
keeping Jackie’s secret?”

“You mean she didn’t want to tell me?”

“I know she didn’t.”

Drake captured Cassie’s gaze. “So you knew
about them and didn’t tell me?” He shook his head. “I never thought
our marriage would come to this. To deception and keeping secrets
from each other.”

“It doesn’t have to again.”

“No.”

She saw his hand twitch in the odd way it did
when he wanted a cigarette. She knew many things about him, yet
also knew there was still so much to learn. Cassie touched his
hand. “I know Jackie hurt you, but her words were foolishly
spoken.”

“Yet clearly understood.” He turned to his
wife, his eyes bright with pain and confusion. “I did everything I
could for them. Why do I feel at times as though they despise
me?”

Cassie held his hand to her chest, wishing
she could help him understand. “They don’t despise you, but
sometimes they come to you as a friend and you treat them like
children.”

“I only give them advice. That’s what I’ve
always done.”

“Sometimes they only want you to listen, to
be there, and not try to guide and help them. Drake, you have to
let go. Come, I want to show you something.” She led him to the
family room and pointed to a portrait they’d had taken last spring:
Cassie, Drake, Marcus, and Ericka. “You’re the head of a different
family now.”

He stared at the portrait a long moment, the
pleasure of what he had warring with the pain of letting go. He
turned to Cassie, surprised that his love for her continued to grow
and change with each new year. He pulled her into his arms, Holding
her close, feeling the new life inside her move. She was right. He
had to let go.

***

Jackie absently typed her proposal, trying
not to think of how Clay and Bertha’s meeting would be. She was
imagining a number of scenarios—most of them bad—when the phone
rang.

“Drake was right,” Eric said without
preamble. “I should have told Adriana. She’s furious.”

“She won’t speak to you?”

“Worse.”

She bit her lip to keep from laughing. “Ouch.
No sex. Sorry. I know how much you like that.”

“Yes,” he said grimly. “Unfortunately, so
does she.”

“For how long?”

His voice rose in surprise. “Does it matter?
Next time I’ll risk worrying her and give myself a reason to
comfort her. Anything is better than this.”

“You’ll survive.”

Eric gave a world-weary sigh. “I’m almost a
shell of my former self.”

She slipped out of her shoes and wiggled her
toes.

“Does your brain still function?”

“Partially. Why?”

“I need your advice.”

His tone changed. “You didn’t have to hurt
him, you know.”

“I didn’t mean to. I just…He made me so angry
and he had no right to mention your chest pains.”

“I don’t need a champion. I can fight-my own
battles and that wasn’t one of them.”

“He can be such a bully.”

“He loves us,” Eric said. “An annoying,
aggravating fact at times, but it’s true.”

“I doubt he’ll ever talk to me again.”

“At least not this century.”

“Don’t be mean,” Jackie said.

“Then stop feeling sorry for yourself. He has
every right to be mad at you. He needs time.”

She sighed. “You’re right. Besides, Drake’s
not my only problem.”

“What else is there?”

“Clay’s mom. She’s here in the States and she
wants to reconcile with him. Since she’s staying with me, I don’t
know what I’ll do if things fall apart.”

“It’s getting crowded?”

She rubbed her forehead. “You know how it is
with visitors.”

“Expensive.”

“This is not about expense, this is about
family. They’re meeting today and I’m not sure everything will go
well.” She pulled on her shoes again. “I want things to work
out.”

“Stay out of it.”

She sighed. “I can’t. If he just gave her a
chance, I think—”

“Stop thinking and listen. Are you
listening?”

“Yes.”

“Paper and pad ready?”

She rolled her eyes. “Eric!”

“No need to get testy, pest. Here’s my
advice. Leave things alone. If it doesn’t work out, you’ll be in
the same position I’m in.” He paused. “I suggest cold showers.”

“How come you don’t feel the same way about
Clay as Drake does?”

“A simple equation. One, because I’m not
Drake, plus one, I know you, which equals Clay didn’t have a
chance.”

“You make me sound devious.”

“Aren’t you?”

Jackie laughed. “Only sometimes. Bye.” She
hung up.

A few moments later, Patty peeked her head
inside the office. “You have a visitor.”

Jackie checked her calendar. “Who?”

Kevin entered and spread his arms wide,
looking very much like the wealthy playboy he was. “Me.”

She stood and hugged him. “This is a nice
surprise.” She hadn’t seen him since she and Clay had visited his
house.

“I’m glad. I want to talk to you about my
decision. Grab your bag. We’re going out.”

Jackie soon found herself in the backseat of
his Lexus as the driver took them around the city. “I was impressed
with your program,” Kevin said. “I read your materials and did a
little research. I even met with your boss.”

“And?”

“I can’t donate.”

Her face fell. “Why not?”

He tugged on the cuffs of his sleeves. “I
didn’t like her shoes.”

She blinked, confused. “Why?”

“They didn’t match her job.”

“What are you talking about? What do her
shoes have to do with anything?”

“You’ve never noticed Faye’s shoes or the
earrings she wears?”

“I know they’re very nice, that’s all.”

He patted her on the hand as though she were
a misguided youth. “Oh, yes. I keep forgetting you were poorly
educated. Here’s a little lesson. Her shoes cost eight hundred
dollars.”

“Shoes don’t cost that much,” she said in
disbelief.

“Of course they do. Her earrings were perhaps
three hundred, which isn’t much by itself, except when you consider
her salary.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. She comes from a
wealthy family.”

Kevin thought for a moment, then shook his
head. “I bet she checks price tags.”

“Is there anything wrong with that?”

“When you’re rich, you don’t have to. If you
want something, you buy it. So how can she afford those shoes in a
job like that? Does she have a boyfriend?”

“No.”

He shrugged. “It’s none of my business,
anyway.”

“I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation,”
she said in defense.

“Perhaps.”

“But it’s the reason why you won’t
contribute?”

“Sorry, babe. I don’t like questions when it
comes to money. I’ll give you a little something to put a smile on
your face, but I can’t be an investor.”

Jackie drummed her fingers on her knee.
“Damn.”

“Is that the best you can do?”

“I could call you a dirty name.”

“Say it with conviction and I’ll take it as a
compliment.”

She made a face.

Kevin stretched his arm the length of the
seat. “Let’s go to lunch. How about the Blue Mango?”

She narrowed her eyes, knowing what he was up
to. “No.”

He tapped her on the shoulder. “Oh, come on.
I like irritating your brother. I’d love him to see you with
me.”

“I don’t think he’s there anyway.” She
sighed. “Right now I think he dislikes me as much as he does
you.”

“Impossible. He loves his family.” He removed
fun from his trousers. “How’s Cassie?”

“She’s fine.” She slanted her eyes at him,
unable to ignore the certain note in his tone. “Do you still--”

“Love her? Probably. I don’t think about it
much.”

Jackie glanced out the window, then said, “Of
all the women you’ve met, why her? She’s pretty and funny, I know,
but—”

“Isn’t that what love is? Loving someone for
reasons you can’t explain?” He cupped her face. “Don’t look so
tragic, little one. I’m not suffering.” He flashed a devastating
grin she was forced to return. “I’m happy for her. I think your
brother’s a jackass, but he’s the perfect man for her. I could have
offered her money, but not a family life. I don’t want to get
married and have kids.” He shivered at the thought. “I enjoy my
life. Truly.” He paused. “But I can see that love is making you
suffer.”

“I’m not suffering.”

“At least trying hard not to.” He looked out
the window and shook his head. “Women get it all wrong. They fall
in love with unsuitable men. Clay is the wrong man to fall in love
with.” He turned to her. “I, however, make a better
alternative.”

She looked doubtful. “Why?”

“I’m better looking, rich, classier, and I
like to be loved.”

“Don’t you mean adored?”

“Yes, that, too.” His hand fell to her
shoulder. He lowered his voice. “How would you like time away?”

She lifted a sly brow. “Is that an invitation
to something that would get us both in trouble?”

“Yes.”

She tilted her head flirtatiously to the
side. “Where would you take me?”

He leaned toward her “Where would you like to
go?”

“Into Clay’s mind.”

Kevin frowned and sat back. “That sounds like
a dull place.”

“It’s not.”

“Come away with me. Think about it. A
vacation on a Greek island.”

Jackie narrowed her eyes. “You do like to
cause trouble. I bet your mother gave you everything you
wanted.”

“And more, but this isn’t about me. Some
shaky waters could spur Clay into action.”

She shook her head. “Tempting, but no.”

“Why not? You could make Clay jealous and
Drake would be thrilled you’re seeing Clay and not me.”

“I don’t want to play games.”

“Games can be fun.”

“I’m too old for games.”

He rested a hand on his chest and released a
sigh. “I suppose the problem is I’m not. Perhaps that’s why I’m all
alone.”

“I’m not going to feel sorry for you.”

Kevin made his face look like that of a hurt
puppy. “I’m a poor, lonely bastard—I mean, bachelor—in need of
sex—excuse me, love. Lots and lots of love.”

Jackie laughed and playfully hit him until he
smiled. “You’re dreadful.”

“I try.”

“We could never work. You remind me too much
of Drake.”

He stared. “What?”

“That’s why you can’t stand each other.
You’re the flip side of the same coin.”

“I offer you a weekend getaway and you insult
me?” he said, offended.

“You’re both used to commanding subordinates,
you both like to help when you don’t need to, and you both would
spoil me rotten.”

He held up a hand. “Enough. I may be
sick.”

“Don’t be angry.”

“I’m not. Life’s too short. I may never speak
to you again, but I’m not angry.”

She smiled and turned away.

“So what will you do?”

“About funding?”

“No, about Drake. What are you willing to
risk?”

“Risk?”

“If you had to make a choice and lose either
Drake or Clay for the rest of your life, who would you choose?”

The long days
of spring settled over the city in a sun-soaked breeze that washed
the leaves and grass a brilliant green and polished the stone
buildings. Bertha and Clay sat under a tree eating lunch he bought
from a street vendor.

“Thanks for seeing me,” Bertha said at last,
breaking the silence that had stretched between them since he’d
picked her up.

“Hmm.” He watched her light a cigarette while
he took a bite of his hot dog.

“Nice weather.”

“Can be until it hits May, then the city is a
humid monster.”

“You hate the heat. Why do you stay?”

He shrugged. “Cassie.” He said her name
though it caused pain.

“Family’s a good thing. I was seeing a bloke
with five kids.”

Clay leaned back on his elbow. “He dumped you
for his wife, did he?”

Bertha glared at him. “I don’t see married
men anymore.”

“You’ve made a lot of wives happy.”

“Will you continue to be my judge and
jury?”

Clay sat up and stared at a passing jogger.
“Why did you want to see me?”

She hesitated, then said, “I’m lonely.”

He turned to her, surprised. “Honesty. Wow.
That’s a nice change.”

“I’ve changed a lot.” She inhaled, then shook
her head. “Well, maybe not a lot.”

“So after he dumped you, what happened?”

“Sorry?”

“You’ve been dumped before and you’ve been
lonely before—that has never sent you running to me.”

“I bet you’re a successful investigator.”

He looked bored. “Answer the question.”

“All right, the truth is I got a letter.”

“From who?”

“A friend of yours. He didn’t give me much
information, he just said you needed me.”

His eyes widened. “And you believed
that?”

Bertha took two nervous puffs, then said, “I
wanted to.”

The truth of her words startled him. “So you
came all this way because some guy said I needed you? Do you have
the letter?”

She placed the cigarette between her lips and
opened her bag. The cigarette bobbed up and down as she spoke. “Got
it in here somewhere. Ah, here.” She handed him the letter.

Clay read through the letter, instantly
recognizing the language. It spoke about his work as an
investigator and how stressed he was. How helpful it would be for
her to see him. He folded it back up, then said in a neutral tone,
“And you came all this way to help me.”

“Some sons would be pleased.”

He absently tapped the letter against his
knee. “Yeah, some.”

“I didn’t kill Doreen.”

Her name, so long unspoken, hit him like a
blow—it twisted his insides, then miraculously subsided. He had
wanted to blame her for not being a better mother, for not raising
a daughter that thought more highly of herself, but the anger
wasn’t there to fuel that blame. There was nothing to feed it
anymore. “I know,” he said. He took the cigarette out of her mouth
and stubbed it out. “No wonder you’re so skinny. Eat your hot
dog.”