Love Like You've Never Been Hurt (3 page)

He pulled into Pete’s driveway and grabbed his bag from the
back of his SUV. Pete came around the side of the house from the
pool.

“Hey, man, you’re early. Eager to go?”

Jack wasn’t about to admit how eager he was. “Yeah,
sorry. You know what the traffic’s like. Give yourself extra
time and you sail through.”

“Not complaining. We can hit the road early, suits me fine.”

The two of them loaded their gear into Pete’s truck and
headed out towards Summer Lake.

Emma was so glad this week was almost over. All she had to do now
was get through this meeting with Carla and she’d be free for
the weekend. She was really looking forward to Scott’s birthday
party. She had almost resigned herself to never having children of
her own. She couldn’t imagine being a single parent, even
though Missy managed it so wonderfully. And since she was sworn off
men, remaining childless seemed a foregone conclusion. Her godson
Scott was as close as she would get and she loved him dearly.

As she battled with the traffic once more on her way to Carla’s
oceanfront home she smiled as she thought of Missy. They’d been
in their senior year of high school when Missy had confided that she
was pregnant. At the time it had seemed like the end of the world for
her. The father had been a seasonal worker at the lake and had left
before Missy even knew she was pregnant. When Emma, Pete and Ben had
gone off to college, Missy had stayed behind to raise her son, and
she had raised a fine young man. Scott was quiet, a real computer
wizard and he loved his mom. Missy had made her three best friends
his godparents, further cementing the strong bonds that tied them
together. Tomorrow, fourteen years on, they would all be there for
his birthday.

She arrived at Carla’s palatial home and was surprised to
find no other cars on the sweeping driveway. Often, a Friday
afternoon meeting at Carla’s turned into a Friday evening party
with the rich and the beautiful dropping by, along with assorted
wannabes and hangers on. As she got out of her car, Carla came down
the stairs from the front door to greet her.

“Darling Emma!” she boomed and draped Emma in an
elegant embrace. She was a statuesque beauty, standing almost six
feet tall, with dark curls falling around her shoulders. Carla
Messini was as close as it gets to royalty in Hollywood. She came
from a long line of actors and directors that stretched all the way
back to the heydays of the studios and to Italy before that.

“
There is a change of
plan, bella. I wanted you to meet Mr. Schumacher who wants to make an
adaptation of
Geraldine’s
Way
, but he was
called unexpectedly to New York.”

“Oh. OK”

“Darling, do not be disappointed. We have rescheduled
already. We shall meet on Tuesday.”

“
Oh, no. I’m not
disappointed, really.” Emma wondered if she should tell Carla
that she would be less disappointed if the meeting had been canceled
altogether. She had read
Geraldine’s
Way
when the novel
was riding high on the bestseller lists and really hadn’t
thought it warranted all the hype that surrounded it. She couldn’t
imagine being the one to write the screenplay for it.

“I am so sorry I didn’t call you,” said Carla,
though she didn’t look very sorry at all. In fact, she was
beaming. Emma smiled, waiting for the explanation she knew would
come.

“I received a call from Leandro. He is wanting to see me –
this evening!” Emma smiled even more, she knew what this meant.
Leandro Pereira had starred in two of her movies and Carla was
absolutely besotted with him. Imposing as she was, Carla had a heart
of gold. With her height and booming Italian accent, she was an
Amazonian in the jungle of Hollywood, but underneath she had the
heart of a true romantic and for months now that heart had been
yearning for Leandro.

“Oh, Carla. That’s wonderful.”

“You are not angry?”

“Not at all. I hope you have a lovely evening!”

“But you should be angry. I bring you here for a meeting, I
lose you the meeting. I have no party and I abandon you for a man. I
would be angry!”

Emma laughed. “Well,
when you put it like that maybe I should be, but I’m not. I’m
going to go now so you can get ready for your date, and do you know
what? I’m going to start my weekend early. I’m off to the
lake and I think I’ll leave tonight instead of waiting till
morning. So you see, it’s all perfect, no problems, no need for
anger.”

Carla smiled. “You are too even tempered, darling. But this
time it is for my good. So you go, enjoy your lake, and I shall enjoy
my Leandro.” As Carla air kissed three times around Emma’s
ears, Emma couldn’t help but pity Leandro. She had no doubt
Carla would enjoy him. Eat him alive more like.

Driving back to her apartment
she looked around at the other drivers as they crawled along. She
made up stories for the people she saw. The stressed looking guy
talking on his cell phone in the Audi beside her was making excuses
to his wife why he wouldn’t be home in time for dinner with her
parents. Claiming it was work instead of admitting he was on his way
to see his mistress. The beautiful young Hispanic woman in the VW
behind her was a Colombian heiress who had fled from her father’s
insistence she marry the son of a neighboring landowner. She’d
met a medical student here in LA and was madly in love with him. She
was on her way to meet him, not knowing that the father’s
mercenaries awaited her, having taken the boyfriend hostage. She’d
always been curious about what people’s stories might be; where
they were going, what they were doing. For a moment she wondered
where Jack Benson might be on this Friday night, where
he
was going, what
he
was doing. Ha, that would be more like
who
he was doing! Forget
it, Em. Forget him.

She finally made it back to her apartment and collected her
weekend bag, glad it was packed and ready to go. At this rate she
wouldn’t make it up to the lake until gone midnight, but at
least she’d be there for breakfast with the others.

As she drove the last few miles she was growing tired. Grateful
she knew the road so well, she followed the twists and turns on
automatic pilot. All her life she’d loved this place. It was
the only home she’d ever really known. Her parents had died in
a car crash when she was eight years old. Her grandparents had
brought her out here and raised her in the small community by the
lake. She hadn’t really known them before the accident, but
with all the love they’d shown her, their patience as she had
run and hidden from them over and over again, she’d come to
love them dearly. When she’d first arrived, newly orphaned, she
had felt so alone and afraid, but this place had soothed her somehow.
The lake seemed to sparkle just for her and the mountains huddled
around, trying to reassure her, comfort her. The horrors of a new
school had been eased when Pete and Missy had stepped in on her
second day and stopped some boys from picking on her. Missy had taken
her under her wing. Pete and his friend Ben had become her protectors
and life had started to become bearable. Gramps and those friendships
were still her mainstays and Summer Lake had been the backdrop to all
of it. As always, she was so glad to be back.

She rolled the window down to get some fresh air and breathed in
the scent of pines and lake, the smell of home, of comfort and of
Gramps. Her grandmother had died ten years ago. Was it really that
long? Yes, she’d been in college in Oregon when Grandma fell
ill. She’d spent that summer back here, sharing her
grandmother’s last days and helping Gramps through his first
days alone. Her grandparents been married for forty-five years. Emma
had wondered how he would ever carry on without her, but Gramps had
soldiered on and these days he was doing well. He spent a lot of time
with his old buddy, Joe, and between their fishing and tinkering with
cars and trucks in his workshop, he led a full life.

Emma wondered again whether she should go to his house now. No,
she smiled, she really didn’t want to risk getting shot at. She
remembered the night last summer when he had threatened her and Pete
with his shotgun before he had realized who they were. She took a
right turn and headed along the southern shore, out towards Pete’s
parents’ place. To her left the lake reflected the stars and
the skinny moon. That was one more thing she loved up here; no city
lights to dilute the brilliance of the night sky. She turned into the
Hemmings’ property and took the little driveway that led away
from the main house and down to the guest cabin which sat on its own
little cove at the water’s edge.

She parked behind the cabin
and looked up at the star-filled sky. It was so good to be here. She
wondered, as she had so many times recently, whether she should come
up here for the summer. There was nothing to stop her, especially if
she told Carla before she managed to sign her up for some project she
wasn’t really interested in. Ugh,
Geraldine’s
Way
! Emma really
couldn’t imagine writing the screenplay for that novel.

Hmm, novel? Perhaps that’s what she should be doing? Writing
her own novel, right here. She smiled to herself in the darkness.
That felt like the best idea she’d had in a long time –
why not?

“Why the hell not?” she asked out loud. She pulled her
bag from the car and climbed onto the porch where she reached under
the cushions of the old swing to find the key that lived there.

“Where are you?” she muttered as she scrabbled with
her left hand under the cushions. Having no success she plonked her
bag down and lifted the cushions – no key! “Well, that’s
a first!” Pete had told her the key would be in the usual place
and it had been kept there since they were kids. This cabin had seen
so many antics thanks to that key. “Where on earth is it?”
she wondered out loud. She really didn’t want to have to drive
back over to Gramps’ at this point. She tried the door, just in
case, and to her relief it swung open. She returned to the porch for
her bag and went inside, planning to simply fall into bed and get
some sleep.

Jack lay in bed watching the stars twinkle through the skylight.
He had thoroughly enjoyed his evening with Pete’s parents. Anne
and Graham were both artists, Jack envied Pete’s relationship
with them. While Pete had grown up here in this little town with
doting, older parents, Jack himself had endured a very different
childhood. His own father had been a mean drunk. Jack only remembered
the beatings, the one’s he’d taken, the one’s he’d
shielded Dan from and, worst of all, the ones his mom had tried to
hide from them, her cheap make-up never quite managing to cover the
bruises completely. Jack remembered the beatings but he refused to
allow himself to dwell on the pain. He’d yearned for his
father’s love, had envied his friends whose fathers took them
fishing or came to watch games. He’d loved his dad so much, but
he was a realist and had learned the hard way that love and trust
weren’t always returned. He’d carried that lesson with
him and gave his all to protect and provide for the people who earned
his affection and wasted little time on those who didn’t.

His father had drunk himself into an early grave by the time Jack
was seventeen. He’d already been working after school for four
years by then and from that day on he’d worked every job he
could find to support his mom and Dan. He’d stayed in Austin
for college instead of heading to California as he hoped. He’d
brought the family closer to the city so he could live at home and
worked at a gas station, as a day laborer and truck driver to keep
his family going. He’d met Pete while they were both at UT;
they had become firm friends and later business partners.

As he lay looking up at the stars he wondered again if this place
might be what he needed for the summer. He’d been touched by
the beauty of the sunset over the water as they’d eaten out on
the deck. As he’d watched the golden light bathing the rolling
hills and sparkling on the lake he’d felt a sense of peace
creep over him. A feeling he’d never felt before, but one he
was pretty sure he could get used to. When Pete’s parents had
told him about the skylight over the bed in the guest cabin, he’d
asked if he could sleep down here.

Pete had said this place had some kind of magic. He wondered if it
was part of what gave Pete his own unique character. Jack had never
known anyone so at peace with himself, so confident yet unassuming.
He smiled – Peter the Great. And his parents had that same air
about them. Perhaps this place instilled something special in the
people that lived here. If he stuck around perhaps he might pick up
some of it. And of course there was Emma, she definitely had
something special. He’d managed to avoid peppering Pete with
questions about her. He knew she’d grown up here. Most
importantly he knew she’d be here tomorrow. Perhaps she’d
be here for breakfast with Pete’s other friends, he hoped so,
but definitely she’d be at the party. He was surprised at
himself how often she invaded his thoughts, but he smiled and thought
“Why the hell not?” The hairs on the back of his neck
stood on end as he heard her voice echo the question. “Why the
hell not?” Damn, that sounded real, his imagination was getting
carried away.

He decided it was time to get
some sleep and give his tired brain a rest. Hearing her voice like
that was a little too freaky. He turned on his side and pulled the
covers up over his shoulder. As he closed his eyes he heard her
again. “Where the hell are you?” He sat bolt upright in
bed wondering if he was going nuts. He heard a bang on the porch
outside and her voice came again, sounding a little frustrated this
time. “Well, that’s a first!” A wry grin spread
across his face. He had no idea why, but Emma really was outside,
muttering to herself. Perhaps this place really was magical after
all. It’d brought her out here to him in the middle of the
night. Then it dawned on him that she no doubt wouldn’t be as
pleased to see him as he was to see her. What to do? He heard her
again. “Where on earth is it?” What was she looking for?
Then he heard the front door swing open and she entered and plopped
her bag down.