Trusting Jack (22 page)

             
“Say, Emma, does Jack know you’re all chummy with his friend here while he’s away?”  He winked at her.

             
“Not your business, Marcus.”  Suddenly weary of everything, her shoulders slumped.

             
“Don’t worry; I won’t tell.  Maybe we can work out a deal.  My silence in exchange for some of what you’ve given Jack and—“

             
“Shut up.”  James stood and stepped toward Marcus.  “You have no right to insult her, you talentless idiot.”

             
Marcus’s eyes narrowed.  “Better keep your side piece on a leash, Emma.  Scenes like this just might make it back to Jack.”  He sneered at them and walked off.

             
James bared his teeth at his retreating back.  “Moron.”

             
“He’s right, James.  If Jack finds out we’re spending so much time together he may get mad at you.  I don’t want that.”

             
“Don’t worry about it.”  He waved his hand. 

“Jack knows we’re friends.  Besides, he knows.  He asked me to…” James suddenly closed his mouth and looked away.  He’d said too much.

              Realization dawned.  Anger nearly stole Emma’s ability to speak.  “You--You’ve been
spying
on me?”

             
He winced, had the good grace to flush.  “No, no.  He, er, wanted me to check up on you, see that you stayed all right.”

             
“Oh.  To see if I’m pinin’ away or plottin’ revenge?”  Ice dripped from every word.

             
“He just wanted me to try and convince you to talk to him, that’s all.”

             
Emma stood.  “I can
no
t believe this.  The nerve of him.  And you!  I thought we were friends!”

             
“We were.  I mean, we are.  I just want to help fix this.”

             
“To hell with this.  To hell with you,” she flung at him as she marched away, her fury radiating off her in waves.

             
James cursed.

***

              “The jig is up,” James told Jack.  He’d called him immediately after Emma left.  Thankfully, Jack was in his trailer, riding out a lunch break.  “She caught onto the plan.”

             
Jack’s plaintive sigh echoed over the phone.  “Damn.  I was counting on you.  I know it’s not your fault, mate.  Why won’t she at least talk to me?”  He wanted to yell with frustration and longing.  He wanted to kick himself in the ass for fucking it up to begin with.

             
“She’s really hurt.  I’m beginning to wonder if she’ll ever let go of the past enough to really trust anyone.”

             
“She trusted me and look where that landed her,” Jack replied ruefully.  “We’d be OK if I Sarah hadn’t appeared, if I hadn’t panicked.  God, if I hadn’t gotten hard when she grabbed me.”

             
“It’s a man’s natural reaction to being groped.”

             
“Still.  We’ll work through it,” he said with a confidence he didn’t feel, “as soon as I get back.”

             
“Sure you will.”  But he was beginning to have his doubts.

             
“I’ve got to go.  It’s time to marry Philippa.”

             
“Right.  Good luck with that.”

Chapter 29

             
Emma stormed into the house, slamming the door hard enough to shake the pictures on the wall.  Norah poked her head out of the kitchen.  “What on earth?”

             
“I’ll tell you what!”  Anger sizzled in Emma’s voice, in her eyes.  “Jack sent James to spy on me!  To try and talk me into takin’ him back.  I don’t damn well
think
so.”

             
“I have to agree that’s pretty underhanded.”  Norah cleared her throat.  “Ahhh…I’ve been thinking more and more that Jack just might be telling the truth.”

             
Emma rounded on her, eyes shooting daggers.  “
Et tu, Brute
?!? Oh my
God
, betrayed on both sides!  I’m not havin’ it, you hear?”  She threw her arms up in the air and paced before turning back to Norah.  “I’ve cried, I’ve hurt, I’ve wondered what was so wrong with me that a man couldn’t be faithful.  And now I’m just plain
mad
!  Cain’t count on no one no more.”  Her accent thickened and she slipped back into her deep Southern dialect.

             
Norah shifted her feet.  An angry Emma was unusual to see, but when she did lose her temper she was a little scary.  “Well, let’s be honest.  It’s something to think about.”  Emma snarled and Norah nodded.  “Ok, then.  We’ll talk about it some more when you’ve calmed down a little.  I’m just going to…uh…go shopping.  Would you like to come?”

             
“I would not,” Emma bit out.

             
“Fine, fine.  I’ll be back in a while.”  Norah grabbed her purse and coat and escaped.

             
Emma stomped around, too angry to be still. 

She should just call him up, she thought, and give him a piece of her mind. 

              On second thought, she called Chris.  When his phone went straight to voicemail, Emma made a small growl of annoyance and waited for the tone.  “It’s been a hell of a day, pal of mine.  If you get a spare minute, call me back so I can vent.  Much love.”

             
She was too keyed up and restless to stay home.  She thought about going to play tourist, but then had a better idea.  She grabbed her phone and called Alison.

             
“Hi!  Just thought I’d call and check on you.”

             
“Oh, we’re good over here.  And you?”

             
“Great.  I know it’s short notice, but would you like to go out tonight?  A little girl time?”

             
“Oh God, yes.  That would be brilliant!  Hang on, let me see.” Alison put Emma on hold while she conferred with Jacob.  “It’s a go,” she announced cheerfully.  “What are we doing?”

             
“I thought we’d eat out and maybe catch a movie or something.”

             
“It sounds divine.  How about if I pick you up around six?”

             
“Perfect.  See you then.”

             
Emma went upstairs to change.  Her thoughts wondered to how Jack was spending his off time in Germany, and then she decided she really didn’t care.  She was going to start living her life again.

             
Out of deference to the cold, Emma changed into a pair of thick brown jeans and a long sleeve button down the color of ripe melons.  She added chunky heeled boots and left her hair loose.

             
When she went back down, Norah was sitting on the couch.  She looked up, surprised.  “Going out?”

             
“Alison and I are having a girl’s night.”  At

Norah’s downcast eyes and slight shoulder slump,

Emma sighed.  “Do you want to come, too?”

             
Norah’s bright smile flashed.  “I’d love to.  If you’re not still mad at me.”

             
Emma’s smile was rueful.  “You know it’s hard for me to hang on to a mad, unless I’m feeling really righteous.  Now, I’m just mostly irritated with you.”

             
“I can handle that.  Do I have enough time to change?”

             
“Sure.  Alison’s not due for another thirty minutes or so.”

             
“What are the plans?”

             
“Dinner and a movie.”

             
Norah nodded and headed upstairs.

***

              “This is wonderful.”  Alison leaned against the back of the booth and grinned.  “I haven’t been out like this in ages.”

             
Emma swallowed wine.  “I’m glad Jacob let you come out and play.”

             
Alison’s laugh was quick.  “He encouraged it, he did.  Said it was time to let him and the baby have a boy’s night as well.”

             
“What are they going to do?” Norah asked, twirling some pasta around her fork.

             
“Watch the fight.  Jacob had Jake settled on the sofa, with bottles, diapers, beer, and chips within reach.”

             
Emma chuckled at the picture and slipped a small slice of roasted chicken between her lips.  “Have you stopped breast feeding?”

             
“Yes.  To be honest, I’m itching to get back to

work.  And that makes me feel guilty.”

              “Why?”  Norah wanted to know.

             
“Jake is only two months old.  I don’t want to abandon him.  But I miss working.”  She rolled her shoulders.  “It makes me feel guilty,” she admitted.

             
“It shouldn’t,” Emma told her.  “Most people I know go back when the baby is six weeks or before.  You’re a good mother, whether you go back to work at two months, three months, or three years.”

             
“That’s right,” Norah chimed in.  She snagged a piece of Alison’s trout.  “What does Jacob think about it?”

             
“He’s for it, if that’s what I want.  I’ve a part time nanny lined up, and I’m thinking of returning when Jack gets back.”

             
Emma’s fingers tightened around the stem of her glass.  “Have you talked to him since he’s been gone?”

             
“Once.”  Alison looked at Emma and frowned.  “Say, what’s wrong?  Are you upset with him?”

             
“I’ll say,” Norah muttered. 

             
“He didn’t tell you?” Emma asked.

             
Alison slowly shook her head.  “He didn’t say much of anything really, just asked after the baby.  He did sound down.  When I asked, he just told me Thomas had been pushing them hard and he was tired.  Why?  What’s happened?”

             
“Short version?  He slept with Sarah.”

             
“No!”  Alison’s shocked whisper, her instinctive reach for Emma’s hand, soothed Emma’s nerves a bit.

             
“Yes.   And now that I’m refusing to talk to him, he set James on me as a spy.”

             
“What?”

             
“Well,” Emma allowed, “maybe spy isn’t the

right word.  James was supposed to get me to talk to

Jack, to believe him.”

             
“I see.”

             
“Can you believe it?  I should have you tell him that I caught on to his game.  And that if he insists on keeping it up that it will become unpleasant for him.”  She stabbed her chicken.

             
“Emma….I don’t want to be in the middle.”

             
“Oh, I know that.  I really wouldn’t ask you to be.”

             
Alison nodded slowly.  “I just can’t believe this.  Damn it, I thought he was well over Sarah, especially since you came along.”

             
“Actually,” Norah interjected,” Jack says—Ouch!”  She glared at Emma, who smiled brightly.

             
“If he wants to tell her lies, he can.  We won’t repeat them here, please.”

             
“Fine,” Norah pouted, rubbing where Emma’s boot had made contact with her shin.

             
Alison frowned and looked from one to the other.  “I’ll just let him tell me when he feels up to it,” she decided.  “Now, let me call and check on my men.  Then let’s order a huge dessert and decide if we want a tear jerker or a romantic comedy.”

             
They decided to make an early evening of it, since Alison’s eyes were drooping after the movie.

             
“I’m sorry,” she apologized.  “Guess I’m not much company anymore.”