Friends--And Then Some (3 page)

“Jake?” Her voice was the faintest whisper, wavering and unsure.

His eyes darkened and a thick frown formed on his face. Slowly, almost as if drawn by something other than his will, Jake lowered his mouth to hers. Warm lips met warm lips in an exploratory kiss that was as gentle as it was unhurried.

“Lily.” His mouth left hers and sounded oddly raspy and unsure. Her eyes remained tightly closed.

“That shouldn’t have happened.” Somehow she had found her voice. “That shouldn’t have happened.”

“Do you want an apology?”

Her arms slid from around his neck and fell to her sides as he released her. “No …” she whispered. “I should be the one to apologize … I don’t know what came over me.”

“You’re right about this place,” he admitted on a harsh note. “There is something spooky about it. Let’s get out of here.”

By the time they’d returned to the living room, Lily had regained her equilibrium
and could smile over the peculiar events in the attic.

“What’s so amusing?” He didn’t sound the least bit pleased by their adventure, and stalked ahead of her, sitting in the fan-back bamboo chair usually reserved for Gram.

“Honestly, Jake, can you imagine
us kissing
?”

“We just did,” he reminded her soberly, his voice firm as his watchful eyes studied her. “And if we’re both smart, we’ll forget it ever happened.”

Lily sat on the sofa, tucking her legs under her. “I suppose you’re right. It’s just that after being such good friends for the past year, it was a shock. Elaine would never forgive me.”

“Would you lay off Elaine? I’ve told you a thousand times that it’s been over for months.” Jake grimaced at the sound of the other woman’s name. His relationship with Elaine Wittenberg had developed nicely in the beginning. She was impressed with his writing, encouraging even. Then bit by bit, with intrusive politeness, Elaine had started to reorganize his life. First came the suggestion that he change jobs. Driving a cab didn’t pay that well, and with his talents he could do anything. She started introducing him to her friends, making contacts for him. The problem was that Jake liked his life exactly the way it was. Elaine had been a close call—too close. Jake had come within inches of waking up one morning living in a three-bedroom house with a white picket fence and a new car parked in the garage—a house and a car with big monthly payments. True, Lily was just as eager for the same material possessions, but at least she was honest about it.

“Well, you needn’t worry,” Lily told him, taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly. “Just because we kissed, it doesn’t mean anything.”

Her logic irritated him. “Let’s not talk about it, all right? It was a mistake and it’s over.”

Lily arched a delicate brow and shrugged one shoulder. “Fine.” His attitude didn’t please her in the least. As far as she knew, Jake wasn’t one to sweep things under the carpet and forget they existed. If anything, he faced life head-on.

Abruptly getting to his feet, Jake stalked to the other side of the living room. Confused, Lily watched the impatient, angry way he moved. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said on his way to the front door.

“Okay.”

The door closed and Lily didn’t move. What an incredibly strange night it had been. First, the golden opportunity to find that crazy song for the Texan. Then, wilder still was Jake’s kissing her in the attic. Even now she could feel the pressure of his mouth on hers, and the salty-sweet taste of him lingered on her lips. He’d held her close, his scent heightened by the stuffy air of the attic.

But, Lily realized with a start, the kiss had been a moment out of time and was never meant to be. Jake was right. They should simply put it out of their minds and forget it had happened. A single kiss should be no threat to a year of solid friendship. They knew each other too well to get caught up in a romantic relationship. Lily had seen the type of woman Jake usually went for, and she wasn’t even close to it. Jake’s ideal woman was Mother Teresa, Angelina Jolie, and Betty Crocker all rolled into one perfect female specimen. Conversely, her ideal man was Daddy Warbucks, Bruce Willis and Mr. Goodwrench. No … Jake and she would always be friends; they’d make terrible lovers …

* * *

The next morning when Lily found her way into the kitchen, Gram was already up and about. Her bright red hair was tightly curled into a hundred ringlets and held in place with bobby pins.

“Morning,” Lily mumbled and pulled out a kitchen chair, eager to speak to her grandmother.

Gram didn’t acknowledge the greeting. Instead, the older woman concentrated on opening a variety of bottles, extracting her daily quota of pills.

Lily waited until her grandmother had finished swallowing thirteen garlic tablets and a number of vitamins, and had chewed six blanched almonds. This daily ritual was Gram’s protection from cancer. The world could scoff, but at seventy-four, Gram was as fit as someone twenty years her junior.

“I didn’t hear you come in last night.”

A smile played at the edges of Lily’s mouth. “I know. Gram, have you ever heard of the song ‘Santa Fe Gal of Mine’?”

The older woman’s look was thoughtful and Lily nibbled nervously on her bottom lip. “It’s been a lotta years since I heard that ol’ song.”

“You remember it?” Relief washed through Lily until she sagged against the back of the chair. Lily marveled again at her grandmother’s memory.

“Play a few bars for me, girl.”

Lily tensed and the silence stretched until her nerve endings screamed with it. “I don’t know the song, Gram. I thought
you
did.”

“I do,” she insisted, shaking her bright red head. “I don’t remember it offhand, is all.”

Is all
, Lily repeated mentally in a panic. “When do you think you’ll remember it?”

“I can’t rightly say. Give me a day or two.”

A day or two!
“Gram, I haven’t got that long. Our future could depend on ‘Santa Fe Gal of Mine.’ Think.”

Stirring some peanut butter with a knife, Gram picked up a soda cracker and dabbed a layer of chunky-style spread across the top before popping it into her mouth.

Lily wanted to scream that this wasn’t a time for food, but she pressed her lips tightly shut, forcing down the panic. Gram didn’t do well under pressure.

“What do you want to know for?” Gram asked after a good five minutes had elapsed. Meanwhile, she’d eaten six soda crackers, each loaded with a thick layer of peanut butter.

“A rich man requested that song last night. A very rich man who had a generous look about him,” Lily explained, doing her best to keep the excitement out of her voice. “If I can come up with that song, he’d probably be willing to show his appreciation.”

“We could use a little appreciation, couldn’t we, girl?”

“Oh, Gram, you know we could.”

“If I can’t think of it, Gene Autry would know.” Gram often spoke as if famous personalities were her lifelong friends and all she had to do was pick up the phone and give them a jingle.

“Did Gene Autry sing the original version?”

“Now that you mention it, he might have been the one,” she said, scratching the side of her head.

Lily perked up. Gram had a recording of every song Gene Autry had ever sung. “Then you have it.”

“I must,” she agreed. “Someplace.”

“Someplace” turned out to be in the furnace room in the basement five hours later. The next few hours were spent transposing the scratchy old record into notes Lily could play on the piano.

When she sat at the grand piano at five that evening in the Wheaton lobby, “Santa Fe Gal of Mine” was forever embedded in her brain. Each note had been agonized over. There couldn’t be a worse way to memorize a song. Lily had never been able to play very well by ear.

As it worked out, the timing had been tight and consequently Lily had been unable to pay the amount of attention she would have liked to her dress and makeup.

The lobby was busy with people strolling in and out, registering for a wholesale managers’ conference. At the moment the only thing Lily was interested in was one Texan with a love for an ol’ Gene Autry number.

During the evening, Lily twice played the song she had come to hate more than any of the others. Her only reward was a few disgruntled stares. The lively Western piece wasn’t the “elevator” style she’d been hired to play. The second go-around with “Santa Fe Gal” and Lily caught the manager’s disapproving stare. Instantly, Lily switched over to something he’d consider more appropriate: “Moon River.”

As the evening progressed, Lily’s plastic smile became more and more forced. She’d gone to all this trouble for nothing. Her stomach felt as if it were weighted with a lead balloon. All the hassle she’d gone through, all the work, had been for nothing. Gram would be so disappointed. Heavens, Gram nothing, Lily felt like crying.

As usual, Jake was waiting for her outside the hotel.

“How’d it go?” he asked as she approached the cab. One look at her sorrowful dark eyes and Jake climbed out of the cab. “What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Mr. Moneybags wasn’t the appreciative type?”

She shook her head, half expecting Jake to scold her for being so incredibly naive. “No.”

“What, then?”

“He didn’t show.”

Jake held open the taxi door for her. “Oh, Lily, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” she returned loyally. “I was the stupid one. I can’t believe that I could have gotten so excited over an overweight Texan who wanted to hear a crummy song that’s older than I am.”

“But he was a rich Texan.”

“Into oil and maybe even gold.”

“Maybe,” Jake repeated.

He’d walked around the front of the taxi when the captain of the bellboys came hurrying out of the hotel. “Miss Lily!” he called, flagging her down. “Someone left a message for you.”

“A message?” Lily’s gaze clashed with Jake’s as excitement welled up inside her, lifting the dark shroud of depression that had settled over her earlier.

“Thanks, Henry.” Lily gave the hotel’s senior bellhop a brilliant smile. Two minutes before, Lily would never have believed that something as simple as an envelope could chase the clouds of doubt from her heart.

“Well, what does it say?” Jake questioned, leaning through the open car window. He appeared as eager as Lily.

“Give me a minute to open it, for heaven’s sake.” She ripped apart the beige envelope bearing the Wheaton’s logo. Her gaze flew over the bold pen strokes, reading as fast as she could. “It’s from him.”

“Daddy Warbucks?”

“Yes,” she repeated, her voice quavering with anticipation. “Only his real name is Rex Flanders. He says he got hung up in a meeting and couldn’t make it downstairs, but he wanted me to know he heard the song and it was just as good as he remembered. He wants to thank me.” Searching for something more, Lily turned over the single sheet, thinking she must have missed or dropped it in her hastiness. Surely he meant that he wanted to thank her with more than a simple message. The least she’d expected was a dinner invitation. With hurried, anxious movements she checked her lap, scrambling to locate the envelope she’d so carelessly discarded only a moment before.

“What are you looking for?” Jake asked, perplexed.

“Nothing.” Defeat caused her voice to drop half an octave. Lily couldn’t take her eyes from the few scribbled lines on the single sheet of hotel stationery. Shaking her head, she hoped to clear her muddled thoughts. She’d been stupid to expect anything more than a simple thank-you. Rich men always had women chasing after them. There wasn’t one thing that would make her stand out in a crowd. She wasn’t strikingly beautiful, or talented, or even sophisticated. Little about her would make her attractive to a wealthy man.

“Lily?” Gently, Jake placed a hand on her forearm. His tender touch warmed her cool skin and brought feeling back to her numb fingers. “What’s wrong?”

A tremulous smile briefly touched her lips. “Me. I’m wrong. Oh, Jake, I’m never going to find a rich man who’ll want to marry me. And even if I caught someone’s eye, they’d take one look at Gram and Herbie and start running in the opposite direction.”

“I don’t see why,” he contradicted sharply. “I didn’t.”

“Yeah, but you’re just as weird as we are.”

“Thanks.” Sarcasm coated his tongue. So Lily thought he was as eccentric as her grandmother. All right, he’d agree that he didn’t have the corporate ambition that drove so many of his college friends. He liked his life. He was perfectly content to live on a sailboat for the remainder of his days, without a care or responsibility. There wasn’t anything in this world that he couldn’t walk away from, and that was exactly the way he wanted it. No complications. No one to answer to. Except Gram and Lily. But now even his platonic relationship with Lily was beginning to cause problems. He admired Lily. What he liked best about her was that she had no designs on his heart and no desire to change him. She was an honest, forthright woman. She knew what she wanted and made no bones about it. Their kiss from the day before had been a fluke that wouldn’t happen again. He’d make sure of that.

“I didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” Lily mumbled in apology. “You’re the best friend I’ve got. I’m feeling a bit defeated at the moment. Tomorrow I’ll be back to my normal self again.”

Silently walking around the front of the taxi, Jake climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine with a flick of his wrist. “I can’t say I blame you.” And he didn’t. After everything she’d gone through to find that song, she had every right to be disappointed.

“It’s me I’m angry with,” Lily said, breaking the silence. “I shouldn’t have put such stock in a simple request.”

Jake blamed himself. He should have cautioned her, but at the time he’d been so surprised that he hadn’t known what he was feeling—maybe even a bit of jealousy, which had shocked the hell out of him. Later he’d discarded that notion. He wanted Lily to be as happy as she deserved, but there was something about this Texan that had
troubled him from the beginning.

The moment Lily had mentioned she’d met someone, warning lights had gone off inside his head. His protective instinct, for some reason he couldn’t put into words, had been aroused. That alien impulse had been the cause of the incident in the attic. He didn’t honestly regret kissing Lily, but it was just thae type of thing that could ruin a good friendship. The Texan meant trouble for Lily. It’d taken him half the night to realize that was what bothered him, but he was certain. Now, after Lily’s revelation, Jake could afford to be generous.