The Davis Years (Indigo) (7 page)

Seth put a hand on Davis’s shoulder and smiled broadly. “Well, look who I’ve run into. I’m glad I didn’t send my assistant to do the morning mail drop-off and pick-up. Figured I could use the exercise,” Seth said, patting his stomach briefly, which extended slightly over his belt buckle. “You’ll have this problem one day, too, skin and bones. Once that metabolism wears off. Man, I miss those days.”

“Hi, Seth,” Davis said, not really in the mood for small talk. Especially with Seth. He glanced down at his watch. “I really gotta go. I’m gonna be late for work.”

“Oh, not so fast. This will only take a minute, son. Here, let me walk you to your car.” Seth swung an arm around Davis’s shoulders and walked in the direction of the parking lot. “You’ve been ignoring my calls, Davis. And I sent you three letters. There’s one of them there.” Seth nodded to the envelope on the top of the pile of mail that Davis clutched.

He looked down at the envelope with Seth’s business address and a red “urgent” stamp on it. “Yeah, I guess I’ve been busy lately.”

“Sure,” Seth said, but he didn’t look convinced. “Well, son, let me get right to the point. Your brothers are coming to town, or so their lawyers say. They say if they can’t get in touch with you, they’re coming to see you.”

Davis sank against the Acura and looked up at Seth, who’d stopped just in front of him. Seth crossed his arms over his chest. He looked down at Davis with firm brown eyes, his lips set in a line.

“What, why?” Davis ran a hand through his hair and then pushed himself onto the hood in a sitting position.

“They don’t want to say too much until they can talk to you. No lawyers involved. All I know is what you probably already guessed. It’s about the house and whatever else remains of your father’s estate.”

Davis snorted. That the few trinkets and dollars left behind were being called an estate was funny to him. “When are they coming?”

“Apparently, they’re both planning time away from work and making other arrangements as we speak. They say they hope to be in one day next week. They’ll call you. And it won’t do any good not to answer, son. They kind of know where you live,” Seth said with a wink. He put a hand on Davis’s shoulder. “But seriously, Davis, it’s going to be fine. You know they can’t do anything to you. If they threaten to, give me a call.”

“Cole didn’t say anything about bringing his family, did he?” Davis asked.

“No.”

Davis hadn’t expected him to. There was no way Cole wanted his kids knowing Uncle Davis. When Davis had left Cole’s house in Pennsylvania after the accident, Cole and his wife had just had their first kid. That one probably didn’t even remember Davis. He’d only been a few months old when Cole had kicked Davis out.

“I need to get back to the office, and I should let you get to work as well,” Seth said.

“Yeah.” Davis nodded and hopped off of the car, making sure to land on the leg connected to the good knee. “Thanks, Seth. Sorry about, you know, the run-around stuff.”

“Don’t worry about it. I billed you for all of it, so it’s no skin off my back.” Seth chuckled—his idea of a joke. “Remember, call me if you need anything.”

“Yep.” Davis got into his car and slumped against the driver’s seat, staring down at the pile of envelopes in his lap. He flipped through them idly, trying to decide if he should be proactive and call his brothers, or do what he wanted to and change his number.

Friday afternoon Jemma met Carolina, Emily Rose, Michael, and Meg for lunch at the restaurant where Davis worked. It was probably going to be a little awkward to see him after the first and only time they’d talked since she’d come back to town, but it wasn’t like they had a lot of restaurants to choose from in Derring.

The restaurant’s worn brick façade was visible from the turning lane where she sat waiting for a green light. Two of the large windows facing the road had signs in them advertising $9.99 lunch specials. Once she reached the parking lot, Jemma spotted Emily Rose’s car and Carolina’s rental. She got out of Mary’s car, straightened the skirt of her paisley sundress, and told herself that she wasn’t going to make a big deal out of it if she saw him. They were just two people who’d shared something small in another life. That was it.

She entered into the cool, dark interior of the restaurant and was hit simultaneously by a blast of cold air and the smell of onions and stale cigarette smoke. Couldn’t have a restaurant that was popular with truckers that was non-smoking. Sliding her sandals over the worn brown tile, she took her time going from the entryway to the cashier’s station at the front of the restaurant.

After their run-in in the parking lot, she’d had lots of feelings about Davis that she wanted to be able to control, but she hadn’t been able to. It wasn’t possible for those feelings to lead to anything good. The logical part of her knew that. In fact, she was starting to regret asking him to be her date to the wedding. Still, there was the feeling of his skin under hers again. And Lenny Kravitz. It was dangerous to want the things she wanted. She knew that. That didn’t make her want them any less.

Low watt bulbs lit the place. They cast a dim glow over the green booths and dull wooden tables. The low lighting didn’t really hide the worn and greasy look of the dining room.

A petite blonde with obvious bleach damage to her hair stood behind the cash register. She smiled and welcomed Jemma to the restaurant.

“I think my friends are already seated. Tall, brown-haired guy with three women?” Jemma said.

She nodded, pointing to the back of the non-trucker section. “Right back there, hon.” Jemma walked to a table near the back where Michael, Emily Rose, Carolina, and Meg sat. She took the only empty seat, which happened to be next to Carolina, said hello to everyone, and picked up her menu.

Carolina said, “So everything’s set for dinner tonight, Em Rose?”

Emily Rose nodded, her blonde hair bouncing with every vigorous movement of her head. “Yes. We have to go over to the community center after this. Oh, and we’ll need to make a little stop by the church before that. But everything is pretty much good to go.” She placed her hand over Michael’s.

Michael looked greener than he had all week. He smiled weakly back at her and nodded. Jemma had a bad feeling about Michael. Granted, she hadn’t known him long, but he had a shifty look about him. Maybe it was because he was under a lot of pressure from his mom. Ms. Fletcher was admittedly intense, but Jemma wasn’t sure that was it. Or maybe it was the stress of his job search. Still, there seemed to be more going on between them than Emily Rose was willing to admit.

After that, Michael turned the conversation away from wedding talk and to himself and the fabulous job he was sure he had in the bag.

Carolina leaned toward Jemma. “Michael can be a little full of himself sometimes, huh?” she murmured.

Jemma was surprised to find herself agreeing with Carolina for once. “Yeah.” Maybe Carolina wasn’t so bad after all.

“He’s not always like that. Don’t worry. I wouldn’t let Em Rose marry a total jerk.”

Jemma smiled. “She’s lucky to have a friend like you.” She fought the urge to get defensive. It wasn’t like Carolina had implied that Jemma was a bad friend. Jemma’s guilt was causing her to jump to that conclusion. The rational left side of her brain knew that.

Carolina laughed. “It’s a hard job, but what can I say? I’m a superstar.”

Jemma agreed, going along with the joke.

“You guys ready to order?” Davis broke in. Jemma looked up. Her heart pounded as she watched him standing there, tapping his pencil against his order pad. He wore a white collared shirt with grease stains at the cuffs and black pants. Even in his shabby uniform, he was sexy. His upbeat manner was clearly forced, but only someone who knew him well could tell. He’d always been pretty good at masking his real feelings.

She shifted in her seat and hid her trembling hands beneath the table. He was right behind her chair, so close they were almost touching.

“Yeah. You can take my order,” Carolina said, beckoning to Davis with her index finger and a sexy grin. Jemma tensed. Davis stepped closer to Carolina.

Jemma watched Carolina flirt with Davis as she asked questions about the menu. He grinned back and answered her, but it seemed he was just trying to be nice. Jemma hoped it was his concern about his tip that made him not look completely disinterested in her.

Davis took the others’ orders and came around to her last. When he stood by her chair, she grinned up at him. “So, you coming to the rehearsal dinner with me tonight?” she asked.

“I guess.” Davis narrowed his blue eyes at her in a look of confusion. “This is the first I’m hearing of this, though.”

“Oh, I guess I forgot to mention it to you.” Jemma put her hand on his arm.

“Yeah, I’ll go,” Davis said. He looked at her hand and then into her eyes. She supposed her sudden friendliness was kind of unexpected.

“Good.”

Davis smiled warily as if he wasn’t sure if he was being tricked or not. “So . . . what are you, um, what do you want to order?”

“Surprise me.”

Davis seemed thrown off for a moment by her change in behavior from the last time they’d talked, but it warmed him up to her. One side of his mouth curved in a lopsided smile.

“I can do that,” he said. The words sent a thrill through Jemma. Her ears burned as if he’d said something intimate and inappropriate to her in front of a table full of people. His stare reinforced her feeling that he had.

“I’m glad.” She rested her chin on her hand after putting her elbow on the table.

“Me, too.” He continued to hold her eyes with his as he said this.

Jemma wasn’t sure what they were talking about, but she was pretty sure it was no longer food.

An attractive Latina much shorter than Davis tapped him on the shoulder and told him that he was wanted in the kitchen. That was what it took to break the spell that had fallen over them. There seemed to be a tension between Davis and the woman, but she was gone before Jemma could be sure if she’d imagined it or not.

“I have to go put this in the kitchen. Give it to the cook.” He cleared his throat, eyes darting after the petite woman. “I’ll be back to check on y’all.” He strolled toward the kitchen.

Jemma turned back to the table as Davis walked away. She noticed for the first time that all conversation had stopped. She cleared her throat and took a sip of her water. She felt their eyes on her, but pretended like she didn’t.

“So, you know him?” Carolina asked.

Jemma almost laughed. Did she? “Yeah.”

Carolina’s mouth dropped open and her eyes filled with realization. “Wait, is that wedding date Davis? The Davis? Davis Davis?”

“Yeah. We’re uh—good friends. He’s my date to the wedding, that’s right.”

“Oh, sorry girl, I didn’t know. Shoot, you go. He is fine,” Carolina said.

“It’s cool,” Jemma lied with a shrug. “Like I said, we’re just friends.”

“Sure you are.” Carolina’s wink was followed by her braying laugh. “I wish I had a
friend
like Davis, then.”

“I’m leaving in a couple of weeks, give or take. We wouldn’t have time to be anything else to each other.”

“It don’t take weeks, honey. It only takes one night,” Carolina said.

“Trust me. There’s nothing going on between us.” Jemma wondered who she was trying to convince—herself or Carolina.

Later, Davis and the Latina server came back to the table with the first of their entrees. Her name was Rosa according to her gold plated nametag. Davis couldn’t stop stealing glances at Jemma, and neither of them could stop grinning. Rosa slammed down Jemma’s plate and left the table, mumbling something about checking on the rest of the food.

“You know,” Carolina said to Davis, “we were just talking about you.”

Davis stood still, his hand in mid-air after putting Carolina’s Cobb salad in front of her. He raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

Jemma could feel her ears burning and readied herself to do damage control in case Carolina said something outrageous—something she’d be completely capable of from what Jemma had seen.

“Yeah,” Carolina said. “It’s nice to be able to see old friends, huh?”

Davis looked at Jemma. He gave her what seemed to be a wistful look. “Yeah. It is.”

Jemma gave him a weak half-smile, turned her attention back to the table, and asked Emily Rose some mundane question about the wedding decorations—anything to get away from that look in his eyes. Next, conversation turned to the latest political scandal and Jemma was distracted for the moment by a debate with Michael over campaign finance reform. But when Davis was nearby, she was never distracted for long.

In fact, as her mind wandered to him yet again, he came up to the table with a water pitcher. She made sure their fingers brushed against each other as she handed him her water glass. She’d been thinking about him ever since he’d walked up to take their order. They couldn’t have forever, but did that mean they couldn’t have anything at all?

It was so hard not to give in to the idea of having the most amazing few days of her life. Maybe they could spend time together until she had to leave for Florida. But she was afraid that if she gave into that desire to be near him even for a little while, she’d never leave. And if she never left, she might never really move on. And if she didn’t do that, her biggest fear might come true—she might turn into Lynette.