Waiting for Jo
Authors: srbrdshaw
Tags: #romance, #romantic suspense, #suspense, #mystery, #mystery romance, #mystery suspense
WAITING FOR JO:
BOOK ONE OF THE JOSEPHINE O’SHEA TRILOGY
BY S.R. BRADSHAW
Published by S.R. Bradshaw at Smashwords
Copyright 2013 S.R. Bradshaw
All rights reserved. No part of this book may
be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or
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permission of the copyright owner.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author
acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various
products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used
without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not
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owners.
This ebook is licensed for your personal
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Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
For everyone who encouraged me.
You know who you are.
Table of Contents
My heart races as I struggle with my mascara.
Why do I always wait until the last minute to get ready? I’m
meeting James in half an hour, and I still need to let Malcolm out
and finish putting on my makeup. I struggle with the wand, trying
to not poke myself in the eye as I coat my lashes with an unsteady
hand.
My rescue pup looks up at me and gives me his
best puppy dog eyes. He knows I’m leaving and does his best to make
me feel guilty.
“C’mon, sweetie, Mama’s gotta get out of
here. Go do your business.” I open the back door and Malcolm darts
out and chases a jack rabbit he spots in the grass.
I dry my sweaty palms on a kitchen towel and
wait for Malcolm to finish up outside. I’m particularly nervous
this evening, but I guess that’s to be expected when your ex calls
out of the blue and asks to meet up with you. I haven’t seen James
in a few months and I have no idea what he wants. When he dumped
me, I was devastated. I’m just starting to get used to the idea of
not being with him, and now he wants to see me. Why? Does he miss
me? Does he want to get back together? That would make me happy,
but my mom always told me that if you don’t have any expectations
you will never be disappointed, so I push the idea out of my
head.
I take a few minutes and watch Malcolm from
the kitchen window. He’s so fast that I only see a small white
streak zigzagging from one end of the yard to the other, and it
makes me laugh. Maybe I should have named him White Lightening.
“Did you get lonely out there?” I say as I
open the door. I pat him on the head and give him a raw hide to
chew on while I’m gone.
You can handle this, I say to myself in a
vain attempt to calm my nerves. I take a deep breath as I grab my
purse and head to the door. What’s the worst that can happen
tonight? It’s not as if he can break up with me again, right?
The car radio clock reads 7:35 as I speed
down the highway. I’m already late, and it will take another few
minutes to get there. As I drive, I picture James waiting for me at
the Alcove, my favorite wine bar in Woodside City - His dark hair
nicely combed backed and his brown eyes staring down as he taps
away on his phone. For a moment, I let myself pretend that we’re
still together and that I’m meeting him for a date. I can’t help
but smile at the thought.
James and I met about two years ago. He was
an up-and-coming litigator at Anderson & Thomas, and I had just
started working there as a paralegal. We exchanged smiles and
friendly hellos for several months until he left the firm to start
his own practice. A few weeks later, we ran into each other at the
Alcove. He was there celebrating a victory in a case he’d been
working on for several months, and I was there visiting with the
owner, Scotty. We ended up drinking and talking for several hours.
By the end of the night he had my number, and I was completely
smitten.
I pull into the parking lot, check my
reflection in the visor mirror, and straighten out the horseshoe
pendant that James gave me for my last birthday. My makeup is
flawless, and my cleavage looks especially enticing in the new,
silk, emerald-green dress that cost me nearly a week’s wages. It’s
time to see what James wants.
Walking into the Alcove, I immediately feel
at ease. The larger than usual crowd of people, smiling and
chatting between sips of wine, makes it feel more welcoming than
usual. Scotty immediately notices me and comes from behind the
dark, wood bar to greet me.
“Hey, Josie,” he says warmly. Scotty is the
only person who calls me that. It started as a joke, but it ended
up sticking. Everyone else knows me as Jo.
“Hi, Scotty! How are you?” I open my arms for
a hug, and Scotty enters my embrace.
“I’m great, Doll. Let me look at you,” he
says taking a step back. I put a hand on my hip and strike a pose
for him. “I love the dress. It matches your eyes.” Scotty has an
eye for style and always comments on how I look. I like to tease
him by telling him that he’s the gayest straight man that I’ve ever
met.
“James is on the back patio,” Scotty
says.
“Thanks, Scotty. Come out and see us when you
get a chance,” I say before traversing the long room and making my
way to the back door.
Seeing the back patio of the Alcove, where
James and I have spent so many evenings together, makes me feel
nostalgic. I let the rich, tangy smell of the rosemary bushes fill
my nostrils as I take in the familiar sights. The ornate,
French-style cafe tables, the white lights draped over the trees,
and the Madeline Peyroux playing quietly in the background make me
feel like I’m in a 1940’s French film.
I see James at the far end of the patio, and
I get that feeling in my stomach. The one I used to get as a kid
while riding the tilt-a-whirl at carnivals. He’s just as I pictured
him: handsome brown eyes squinting, looking down and long fingers
tapping away at his smart phone, a Stella next to him on the table.
He looks up, sees me approaching, and quickly jumps to his feet.
I’m surprised at how eager he seems.
“Hi, Jo,” he says as he leans in for a hug.
The familiar smell of Prada Luna Rossa cologne makes me weak in the
knees, and I take a second to enjoy being close to him again. We
separate slightly and his eyes meet mine. “How have you been?” he
asks as he tucks a long, blond lock of curly hair behind my
ear.
His gesture unnerves me a bit, and I pull
away from him. “I’m fine, James. Sorry I’m late. Traffic on 40 was
pretty bad.”
“No worries,” he says as he pulls my chair
out for me. His eyes drift from mine down to my cleavage and then
to my long toned legs. “You look really nice tonight.”
“Thanks,” I say awkwardly as I sit down,
unsure of how to take his compliment. “So, why did you ask to see
me? After hearing nothing from you for two months I was pretty
surprised to get your call.” I’m not known for my patience.
James takes a sip of his beer. “Actually, I
have a proposal for you,” he says before pausing as if he’s trying
to gauge my reaction.
“Ummm, okay. What is it?” I ask.
“My paralegal quit about a month ago. I’ve
interviewed a ton of candidates, but I’m just not finding the right
person. I’ve thought about this a lot, and I think that you’d be
perfect for the job. The pay and benefits would be much better than
you’re getting at Anderson and Thomas.” He slides a folded piece of
paper across the table to me.
My heart sinks. “I don’t know what to say.” I
take the paper in my hand, but I don’t open it. Maybe I should be
flattered that James thinks I’m perfect for the job, but I’m not
really sure how to react. I told myself to not have any
expectations, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping that he
wanted to get back together.
“Don’t say anything until you’ve looked at my
offer. I think it’s very generous.”
I finally open the paper and look down at the
number with wide eyes. Wow. He’s offering me $15,000 more than I
currently make.
“I...I still don’t know what to say. This is
a very generous offer, but do you think that working together is a
good idea? I hate to admit it, but I’m not sure that I’m completely
over you, and I think it might be difficult to see you and interact
with you every day.”
James looks at me with a bit of desperation
in his eyes. “Jo, I understand where you’re coming from, but just
think about it. The pay is great. You wouldn’t have to work with
‘Demanding Dan’ anymore, and you’d get a ton of experience. No more
being a glorified secretary.”
I take a slow, deep breath. “I’m definitely
going to consider the offer. Can I have a few days though? There’s
a lot to think about.”
“Of course, just remember that--”
James is cut off by a burly voice. “Ma’am,
what can I get for you?”
What the hell? Why is this waiter calling me
ma’am? I’m 23, not fifty.
I look up to see a handsome face that I don’t
recognize. His light blue eyes, blonde hair, and broad shoulders
look very Nordic. If he had a beard and one of those helmets with
the horns coming out of the top, he’d make a pretty convincing
Viking.
I forget the ma’am comment and smile up at
him. “I’m in the mood for a pinot noir. Can you recommend a good
one?”
“We’ll ma’am, wine’s not really my thing.
Maybe Scott can suggest something.”
There he goes with that ma’am bullshit
again.
I look at his name tag. “That would be
wonderful, Will. Also, you can just call Jo. Ma’am is a little
formal for my taste.” I flash Will a friendly smile and he blushes,
realizing he’s made a faux pas.
“Will do, Jo.”
James scowls at me from across the table.
I look at him quizzically. “What’s the matter
with you?” I say.
“That waiter was totally checking you out,
and I’m pretty sure you were flirting with him.”
A sardonic grin comes across my face.
“Seriously? That’s funny that you would even care considering the
fact that you broke up with me. When you did that, you lost the
right to act jealous and to concern yourself with who I may or not
be flirting with.”
When James broke up with me, he said that he
felt smothered and that he wasn’t looking for anything serious, but
due to some interesting posts I saw on a popular social networking
site, I suspected that he was exploring the possibility of getting
back with his ex-girlfriend. I literally cried for days, so I find
it pretty infuriating that he’s acting like he can have it both
ways.
James doesn’t respond and instead starts
tapping away at his phone. “Work e-mail,” he says.
Yeah, right, I think to myself.
The uncomfortable silence is broken when Will
approaches with my wine. “This is the Pinot that Scott picked for
you. It’s a 2005 Frédéric Magnien Bourgoone.”
“You mean Bourgogne,” James snaps, not even
bothering to look up from his phone.
“Yes sir. I believe that’s correct,” Will
says.
James continues to look down at his phone and
doesn’t acknowledge Will's response. I mouth the word “sorry” to
Will who acknowledges my apology with a slight smile.