Love Me: The Complete Series (51 page)

Daniel immediately turned his attention to spreading cloths and placing paint cans. His mumbled response wasn’t missed. “Hey, I thought he was a nice guy.”

Amanda lurched her hands skyward, then dropped them with a loud slap. “That’s just it—a nice guy to a
guy
is not always a date-able one. All you see is how much beer he drinks or if he can compete at golf or softball. You have no clue whether he’s an octopus on steroids or takes baths once a month. Besides, I’m an adult whether you like it or not.”

Daniel didn’t turn around. “I think we’d probably notice the bath thing.” Jackson snickered. Amanda’s younger brother was a mumbler but he liked the dry wit.

Rory darted a glance from Jackson to his sister. His voice was flat as he reached for a paintbrush. “So you are involved with Tall, Dark, and Dumb ass, then.”

Her face went crimson again. Jackson wanted to intervene but damned if it wasn’t funny watching her mouth pop like a guppy. Besides, even though the nickname made Jackson want to go a couple of rounds with Rory, he wanted to know the answer too. Were they involved or was he just a sex buddy? He wasn’t sure. Nor was he certain which he wanted.

Amanda stomped a foot. “
No.
I’m not involved with anyone. I just said that because he, as in Carter, wanted to make a commitment and I … it doesn’t matter, it didn’t work out.”

Daniel whirled around, brush in hand and drips of paint splattered his jeans. “Commitment! Jesus, Amanda, don’t you think you should slow down a little? Mom and Dad would go through the roof if they heard you.”

She shot her eyes at the ceiling. “He wanted to give me season tickets to the Astros. Actually it was just one ticket. He intended to keep the other one. Still, that would have meant we’d go to all the games together and that kind of means something, doesn’t it?”

Daniel and Rory exchanged glances and shrugged. Daniel turned back to the wall and started slathering paint. Jackson had a sneaking suspicion she wasn’t going to like the end result of the paint job. Daniel snarked again, “So, Jackson, since you’re not all that important now, do you think you could pick up a paintbrush and help get this done so I can get the hell out of here?”

“Hmmm. Thanks man.” Jackson dug through Amanda’s supplies and found a paint roller. “Think I’ll use this instead since I don’t want to be here all day and like you said, I’m not hanging around.”

Rory coughed, a noise that sounded distinctly like
dumb ass.

Jackson grinned. “Look, Rory, the only dumb asses in this room are the ones who planned to paint the whole space with those baby-ass brushes. You’d be here for a week at that rate. Call me what you want but stupid sure doesn’t fit.”

Three hours later Jackson was cleaning rollers and brushes in Amanda’s backyard. The brothers left and she went inside to pick up trash and pull tape. They’d spent the entire time razzing each other about one thing or another. It felt—natural. Invigorating.

“Jackson, your cell phone’s ringing on the counter.” Amanda stood in the doorway with arms crossed over her waist.

“I’ll get it as soon as I’m done.”

“This is the third time. Someone really wants to find you.”

He twisted the spigot until the water slowed to a drip, then met her gaze. “Then answer it, beautiful.”

Shoving her hands into the pockets of her shorts, she looked away. “I can’t do that. Someone might think—”

“That you answered my phone because I wasn’t able to? I don’t care.”

His phone jolted into action and she rolled her wrist to show the phone. She held it out without looking at the screen and he realized she was afraid to look. She didn’t want to know who was searching him out. “Answer it, Mandy.”

Amanda sighed and punched a finger to the phone. “Jackson’s phone.” Amanda’s eyes bugged and she reared back and frowned at the screen.

The expression was a little scary. “Who is it? A telemarketer?”

Her hair flipped in her face as she shook from side to side. “From your display he’s known as Roger Dodger. I’d probably give him a better descriptor, though. Maybe something like Creeper-In-Training or Telephone-Asswipe.” She shoved the phone his way.

Uh oh. “What did he say?”

“Apparently he had bet Carter you’d have a blond stacked chick answering his phone within a week of taking over the reins while your dad was sick. He seemed to think that would be me.”

“You’re kidding.” He knew his voice insincere since Roger was a caustic failure when it came to diplomacy or phone etiquette. Hell, any kind of etiquette was a loss on the man. Jackson grabbed the phone.

“Nice guy.” Amanda crossed her arms.

Jackson stared at the screen, wondering what more was said. “Rog, what’s up?”

He heard a familiar laugh. “Guess I won twenty bucks off of Carter. Tell me, is she has hot as her voice?”

Jackson met Amanda’s eyes and she quirked a perfectly arched brow. Had she heard the comment? “Better.”

A groan from Roger was followed by a crashing sound. Had he fallen? “I
knew
it. You didn’t waste any time. What’s her name?”

“Amanda.”

“Wait. Not
the
Amanda. You didn’t. Oh my God, I thought I was a slime-bag. You’re seeing Carter’s girl?”

She’s mine and she was right about you. You’re an asswipe.
“No. Hey, have you talked to Carter lately? I’ve texted and called. He hasn’t answered.”

“He won’t. He blocked you.”

Jackson’s chest lurched. “He blocked my calls? Is he really that mad? This wasn’t about me, you know. She—”

“Technically
I
blocked you. The first time you called, we were in a meeting and he was in front of the group. He asked who it was. I saw the number and lied—told him it was a telemarketer and I blocked the number. Remember the girl from the park? The runner?”

“Yeah, what about her?”

“He met her the day Amanda bolted. I had already tracked down her number so I just typed in her number on his phone with your name. He always texts you instead of calling so I thought it might be fun to see what happens and get them talking more.”

Jackson shook his head in disbelief. Only an idiot would think that could lead to anything but hang-ups. “You’re a moron, Rog.”

“Yeah, and you’re boinking Carter’s girlfriend. Which is worse?”

Jackson hit the end button. Before Roger made things into a disaster, he’d have to stop by and see Carter. He needed his friend—his brother.

Amanda had gone back to admiring their handiwork. He admired her backside as she stood facing the wall with one hand on her hip. She flipped a light on. “I suppose that was a friend of yours and Carter’s?”

“You’re not going to believe what a mess he’s made of things for Carter. I have to talk to him.”

She turned and swayed from side to side. “I never meant for things to get awkward for you two.”

He shrugged. “He’ll get over it. Eventually.”

Jackson’s phone burst into action again and he started to let it ring. A quick glance at the screen and he chose otherwise. “Hey, Mom.”

“Your dad’s home, no thanks to you.”

“I know. Sorry. I tried to call earlier. We were stuck in rain over on the property I told you guys about.”

“How’d it go?” Her voice was all business but Jackson knew that was her coping mechanism. His mom wasn’t overtly emotional but she had a sensitive side. She just kept it contained pretty well.

“You’re not going to believe what we found. I’ll show it to you later. How’s Dad?”

“Sleeping. He had a rough day in P.T. and he was sore. You need to come by, though. Want to eat dinner with us?”

“Tonight?”

“Sure.”

Amanda left the room for a few minutes. Jackson guessed it was time to make his departure anyway. “Um, okay. I guess.”

Jackson said goodbye to Amanda, scheduled a time to get back together to finish their review of the letters, and took off.

• • •

Technically the color on her walls was “Perry Winked At Me,” a catchy and cute descriptor for periwinkle blue. The transformation was amazing. She wanted to hug Jackson for helping without complaint. Surely he had more important things to do. Amanda turned and noticed the stack of letters he’d forgotten. Like research for his board meeting.

She’d been an incredible distraction.
Don’t be ridiculous. If he’d wanted to leave, he would have.
Actually he just did.

It was unnerving the way he settled into the vocal effusions her brothers adored. She wasn’t sure whether she should be concerned or glad. Jackson wasn’t a good risk for long-term commitment, or long-term anything. Having him get too comfortable with her family would be risky.

She grabbed the box her brother had dumped her belongings into and placed things back on the counters and table. There. She stepped back. Perfect.

The letters seemed to wave for her to move them too. Or read. Should she continue the work without Jax? It took all of two seconds to make a decision.
He’s paying you to dig into the deal. This is part of the deal.

It felt suspiciously like spying.

The following morning, Amanda dressed for work in a rush. How long had it been since she’d slept so well? In the car, she flipped the mirror down on her visor. She looked rested. Would they notice?

Of course not. Her first two hours of work were spent catching up on email and reviewing a legal brief for an afternoon meeting. She turned her music on softly and tapped a foot as she read. Concentration was tough.

Bzzzz.
Her phone jolted her from the page.

“You have a delivery at the front desk, Ms. Gillespie.” Sara, the receptionist, had a pleasant voice. Perfect for phones—or radio and television.

“Me? What is it? Can you just hold it for a few minutes?” She wanted to finish the next four pages. The phone went silent for two seconds.

“Um, no, you should probably come down here.”

Amanda sighed and rustled the pages together neatly on her desk. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

Her office was hidden two corridors from the entry to their office. The tuft, tuft of her shoes on the carpet was the only noise as she worked her way through the hallways.

Sara smiled brightly and nodded toward a woman in the lobby. Or at least she thought there was a woman behind the massive mountain of flowers. A voice called from the depths of roses and lilies, “Amanda Gillespie? We have a delivery for you.”

Flowers? He sent me flowers?
“They’re huge. Where are you?” She put a hand into the fence of flora and tried to peer through to the deliverer. The person shifted them sideways. Wham. Amanda took a lily to her left eye and winced. With one eye closed, she laughed. “You just belted me. Those things are dangerous.”

From the depths of the artwork, a voice spoke. “There’s a card.” She shifted the bundle to display the paper.

Amanda breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of roses. Heavenly. She slid her arms around the crystal vase and took them. Setting the arrangement on the reception counter, she pulled the red envelope from the depth of leaves.

She smiled at the flower girl—a tall, dark-haired woman with her hair pulled back in a braid—as she slipped the note from the envelope and read. The woman averted her gaze to the framed artwork above the desk. Amanda read the note and a heavy weight sunk into her heart.

Dear Amanda,

Thanks for letting me off the hook before the hook sunk in further. The good news? I have a new smartphone! Even better news? I won’t waste another minute of its service talking to you AND I have season baseball tickets to share with someone who actually DOES want to go. Have a good life.

She stared at the paper. Why had she assumed they were from Jackson? Oh, God. Nope, they were from
his best friend.
What had she done?

“What’s wrong? You don’t like them?” The girl’s voice was way too chipper. Of course she didn’t like them. They were
hate flowers.

Amanda’s gut tied up in knots. She was
not
going to tear up.
No
. She was going to laugh it off. Only she couldn’t, because she’d treated Carter terribly at a time when he’d needed something more, something better.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just—he’s really a nice guy. I shouldn’t have gotten involved.” Snot started popping from her nose and oozing down her lip. Crap. She knew she was babbling. “He’s been through so much. He didn’t deserve … Oh, shit.” Her words were salted heavily with tears and hiccups.

The flower girl leaned over the counter and grabbed a tissue box. She yanked four out and pushed them in Amanda’s face. “Hey, it can’t be that bad. Someone sent you flowers. That’s a good thing.”

Amanda looked at her through a fog of tears. She blinked. The tears continued. “I mean, how was I supposed to know that would happen? They were both soooo … nice. I never thought. I couldn’t help it.”

“You couldn’t help what?” The flower girl patted her back in a get-me-away-from-crazy-girl look. She obviously had no idea where this was going. Amanda pushed the note at her chest and waited as the woman glanced over the note. She coughed.

Amanda sucked in a stilted breath. Could she be honest? Why not? She hardly knew the chick anyway. She wasn’t even sure it was true.

“Falling in love with his best friend.”

• • •

The following Wednesday, Jackson stood in yet another elevator listening to Barry Manilow. He hated Barry, thanks to a high school English teacher who would make the class memorize the words to every song. She had a thing for Manilow and thought life’s problems could be solved by knowing and adhering to some of his songs. Jackson couldn’t get past his oversized nose.

He wanted to settle things with his best friend. It was a long shot, but after hearing Amanda’s outburst and Roger’s story, he had to see Carter. Had to find out if they were done permanently. He needed someone to talk with and get advice. His dad was off limits for two reasons. One, he was incapacitated. Two, he wasn’t exactly a shining example of relationship material, even with all his wits.

The elevator to Carter’s floor took half a century to ding the right floor and slide open. The carpet absorbed his footsteps as he strode past the empty reception desk to see Carter sitting with his head buried in a computer. A woman in a green top and black pants watered the greenery in the corner of his office. Since when did Carter have plants?