No Love Allowed (Dodge Cove Trilogy #1) (4 page)

Caleb swallowed. His carefree summer spent planning a European adventure slipped through his fingers like sand. “Is that all?” The question tasted bitter on his tongue.

“If I hear even a hint of inappropriate behavior, our deal is off.” JJ’s features hardened. “Am I making myself clear?”

Biting back a curse, Caleb felt the muscles in his neck strain as he nodded. Then he turned on his heel and walked out of the office.

“Oh, and Caleb,” his father called out after him. “You start Monday.”

The smugness in JJ’s tone frayed his nerves. Something had to be done. He pulled his phone out from his back pocket and dialed Nathan. It took his cousin a couple of rings before picking
up.

“Nate,” he said into the receiver. “Meet me at the gazebo in half an hour. Bring Preston.”

DIDI CLOSED THE
front door and leaned heavily against the wood. The silence in the house confirmed what she already knew: Her
mother was nowhere on the premises. Probably took another shift at the diner or the grocery store. She hated how much her mother had to work, but after everything that had happened today, her not
being home was what Didi needed. The last thing she wanted was to explain herself.

On the walk back from Coward’s Cliff, while her socks squished inside her boots, her clothes slowly dried, and her hair frizzed, she thought of Caleb. She imagined him sprawled on the
dock, resting on his elbows. The hem of his shirt rode up slightly to reveal an inch of what promised to be a taut stomach. Abs? She hoped so. Beads of water clung to his gorgeous hair. Really, the
image was photo-shoot ready. A smile stretched across her lips. She couldn’t wait to start painting him.

She had seen her share of good-looking guys while working at the club, but how could she have missed someone like Caleb Parker? He had a face made for canvas. Then she sighed when the reality of
her life came crashing back.

Because of him she had lost her job.

No.

Not because of him.

She had lost her job because she let her emotions get the better of her control. Hindsight is twenty-twenty. Nothing she could do now. And it wasn’t like she would see Caleb again, so it
was a good thing she had left him there on the dock.

A shiver ran down her spine. She hadn’t dried completely. First things first, meds. That was the most important item on the long to-do list she had compiled on her walk home. Maybe if she
had remembered to take them that morning, she’d still have a job. She reached for the switch by her shoulder and by some miracle the light in the hallway turned on. Hallelujah! Her mother had
paid the power bill after all.

She pushed away from the door and pulled off her boots. They fell to their sides with a
thunk
. Leftover seawater streamed from the inside. Her socks followed. She wiggled her toes,
savoring the feel of the hardwood beneath her pruned skin.

The door to the second-floor bedroom opened, freezing her on the way to the kitchen. “Didi? That you?”

She didn’t have to wait long for Angela Alexander’s thin frame to fill the top of the stairs. Her mother had been beautiful once. Before Didi’s diagnosis. Now, while she
buttoned her store clerk uniform, she looked . . . tired. The lines on her face seemed to deepen with each month that passed. The brown hair she tied in a ponytail was ratty and badly in need of
conditioner, maybe even a trim to get rid of the split ends. They had been living on generic shampoo for months. In order to pay the bills and buy meds, her mom juggled multiple jobs, and the
stress had taken its toll on her body. A good, strong wind would blow her over.

Guilt sank like a boulder in Didi’s stomach. Her job at the country club had helped ease some of the burden her condition put on their family. Without that money, they would have to choose
between paying utilities and buying meds. The meds always won out. She sagged against the door again.

“Why are you wet?”

The apprehension in her mother’s tone, more so than the question, whipped Didi’s head up. Her mother jogged down the stairs and headed straight for her.

“I got fired today,” Didi said. No use hiding the truth when she didn’t know how long it would take to find another job.

Concern manifested as brackets on each side of her mother’s mouth as she asked, “Why weren’t you answering your phone?”

Thumping the back of her head against the door, Didi reached into her pocket and retrieved a battered flip phone held together by duct tape. It dripped. “I forgot I had it on me when I
jumped off Coward’s Cliff.”

“What?” Her mother took Didi’s face in both hands, searching for the breakdown that usually followed . . . an episode. “You didn’t take your meds again. I
checked.”

Of course she had. She was the one who placed each pill into the daily organizer. The portion marked
SATURDAY AM
was still full.

“I’m fine, Mom,” she said, yet the words sounded hollow to her ears. “There wasn’t any power, so the alarm didn’t go off, and I woke up late. And no hot
water.” She sighed again. “Basically everything went downhill from there. I promise I didn’t intentionally forget to take my meds. I was just about to take them when you came out
of your room.”

Why, oh why, of all days had her mother been home? Then she realized that she had left work early. Her shift at the country club wasn’t supposed to end for another couple of hours.

As if not believing Didi’s explanation, her mother sighed and began rubbing her forehead. “I think you really need to see a therapist. The meds aren’t enough.”

“No!” Didi caught her mother’s wrists in her hands. Those muddy brown irises that used to be so bright stared back at her. “Mom, you know we can’t afford weekly
therapy sessions. I’m fine. Really.”

“You’re not fine.” She shook her head, eyes flooding. “You jumped off a cliff.”

“I just needed to cool off. I accidentally dumped two glasses of water on this rich girl at the club and she started screaming at me. I lost my temper. . . .”

“And lost your job,” her mom finished, shoulders slumping.

“Yeah.” Didi dropped her arms, letting her hands slap against her thighs. “It was stupid. I was being stupid. I’m sorry. You weren’t supposed to see all
this.”

“D . . .” It came out as a long breath, then a pause. She knew what usually came with the utterance of the first letter of her name. All she had to do was wait. It didn’t take
long. “You really need to consider attending group sessions. I found one that meets once a week at the community center. Those are free. Please. . . .”

What would group sessions do for her? It was bad enough that she had to go through life without a map, sometimes feeling out of control—like today. She didn’t need to share in the
misery of others. The meds were enough.

“Mom”—she looked into her mother’s eyes without blinking—“I made a mistake. I sacrificed taking my meds so I wouldn’t be late and lost my job anyway.
You have to trust that I won’t make that mistake again.”

The same stubbornness Didi possessed straightened her mom to her full height. “We’re not done talking about this.”

Didi rolled her eyes. “Of course not.” She unhooked her mother’s purse from the coatrack and slung it over the other woman’s shoulder. “If you don’t get
going, you’ll be late. We can’t have you fired too.”

“Didi,” she grumbled. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.”

“How many times do I have to tell you I’m fine?” She waited with bated breath for the response in the game they played after each episode.

It seemed like ages, but finally her mother said with a sad grin, “As many times as it takes.” Then she kissed Didi’s forehead. “Take your meds.”

“Get going.”

“And laundry.”

Didi opened the door. “Will do a load as soon as I take my meds.”

“Dinner—”

“Mom,” she said in exasperation, practically pushing the woman out of the house. “Go. I got this.”

“I’ll check on you later,” her mom called back as she hurried down their walkway, passing an overgrown lawn and the car that didn’t have gas in the tank. Again.

Mow the lawn.
Didi added it to her list as she watched her mother walk toward the bus stop that would take her downtown. Then she closed the door and twisted the lock. The dead bolt
sliding into place seemed so loud in the now empty house. She hated that she worried her mother. But what could she do?

Taking a deep breath, she picked up her socks and shuffled to the kitchen. On the table she saw the first note:
Honey, paid the power bill. Love, Mom.
She smiled. Obviously, since the
lights were on. At least it was one less thing she had to think about, especially since she had no job to help with the expenses. She turned toward the fridge and found the next note:
D, made
lasagna.
The third note was stuck to the micro wave:
Already precut the lasagna. Place one of the plates in for a minute.
On top of the micro wave was a plastic cover with yet another
note:
Make sure to cover the plate or the sauce will splatter. Remember, just sixty seconds.

Didi shook her head when her eyes landed on the most important note of them all:
Don’t forget to take your meds.
It was stuck to the plastic organizer. Mothering from afar, that
was what her mother called it. No use delaying the inevitable. She filled a glass from the tap, then opened the
PM
portion and took out the pills one at a time. Three
hundred milligrams of lithium prevented the mania. Twenty milligrams of Prozac treated the depression. Fifty milligrams of trazodone helped her sleep. Klonopin was for her anxiety. And the
propranolol was for the shakes. Each one vital. Each one she would take for the rest of her life.

Many viewed mental illness as a weakness. To her it was like being on a boat alone in the ocean, holding a kite string in one hand and an anchor chain in the other and finding the balance so she
wouldn’t sink.

With each pill she swallowed, she felt some sort of normalcy return. Of course, the real effects of the drugs wouldn’t happen until she digested them, but the mere thought of taking them
was enough to calm her down.

Breathing easier, she headed into the laundry room. Opening the washer, she dropped her dripping socks inside and began stripping. When she was in nothing but her underwear, she dumped the rest
of the clothes from the basket she had left there the night before and scooped in detergent. With the last of her strength, she turned on the washer, then hobbled the final steps into her room. She
fell into bed and dragged the comforter over herself. Painting Caleb could wait.

THE FIRST WORDS
out of Caleb’s mouth as he faced Nathan and Preston across the octagonal gazebo at the far end of the
Parker Estate half an hour later were, “JJ Parker has gone insane.”

Nathan tilted his head in wonder while Preston . . . well, looked like himself—stoic, with arms crossed. His friend’s silence he was used to, but his cousin being unusually mute
unnerved him. He had expected a louder reaction than blinking.

He opened his mouth to speak again, when Nathan finally asked, “What the hell happened between the time we dropped you off and now?”

Like a dam breaking, Caleb launched into a fast-paced narration of events. He paced as he spoke, waving his hands in the air.

“Now I have to spend three days a week at the firm starting Monday if I want Europe and the rest of the year off,” he finished, breathing heavily. Not five minutes after he had left
his father’s study, he had gotten a call from JJ’s assistant informing him of his duties as an unpaid intern and how many days he was expected to show up at the office downtown. Caleb
might not have seen the man’s face while on the phone, but the guy sure did sound smug.
Unpaid
had surely been his father’s idea, since interns got a weekly stipend when they
worked for Parker and Associates. Oh, how far the mighty had fallen in the course of a single day, and he damned Amber to the pits of hell for it.

“So, let me see if I understand everything. . . .” Nathan waved his hand in the air while Caleb concentrated on not hyperventilating. “Because you broke up with Amber, JJ wants
you to intern at the firm for the summer and attend all the events to get your gap year back.”

Caleb bit back the choice words he had at the mention of Amber’s name as Preston added in that deep, quiet voice of his, “Don’t forget keeping his nose clean.”

“Right.” Nathan nodded in his best friend’s direction. “Thank you.”

Preston crossed his legs, his foot nudging against Nathan’s shin. A soft breeze ruffled his sun-kissed blond hair. The muscles in his tanned arms bulged as he gestured toward Caleb.
“Is there any chance of you getting back together with Amber until the end of the summer? There are a lot of events sponsored by the firm this year. I already have the invites at home. And
knowing JJ, you’ll have to attend all of them in order for him to give you the go-ahead to leave for Europe.”

“I mean, what’s a little over two months of sticking it out with her compared to the freedom you’ll get afterward? Breaking her heart after she successfully shielded you
doesn’t seem like such a big sacrifice,” Nathan chimed in, playing devil’s advocate.

“But she broke the rule,” Caleb said, a frown creasing his brow.

“Can’t you make an exception this one time?” Preston asked.

“No.”

Sympathy colored Nathan’s tone when he said, “Caleb, you know I will bury a body for you, but sometimes you frustrate me. Love is love. If she feels that way, then let her. It
doesn’t mean you have to return it. You’re already in a bind as it is.”

“What does that make me if I string her along for two more months?”

“Someone concerned about self-preservation.”

That got him to laugh. “Self-preservation. Right.” Then he sobered. “You know Amber. She would want more. More that I’m obviously not willing to give. If I held out until
the end of the summer, who knows what would happen?”

Clucking his tongue was Nathan’s way of considering things. Preston studied him as Caleb let him work out the logic of his reasoning. It didn’t take long for his cousin to catch up.
This time when he sighed his shoulders lifted and dropped in resignation.