To: The Gang at Eve’s Apple
From: Angel@EvesApple.com
Subject: The gutless wonder
I know I haven’t written to you guys in a while. I’ve been way too busy being the biggest idiot in the world. Who should be shot at dawn. Except that would be too easy, and I don’t deserve leniency.
Guys, I have screwed up royally. It’s humiliating to admit how royally. I went away with J for the four days. (Actually, we had to cut it a little short but that’s another story.) Anyway, the truth is, I would’ve stayed the whole week if I could have, hell, two weeks wouldn’t have been enough.
He’s the most wonderful man I’ve ever met. Funny, patient, smart, and the sex… I’ll spare you by not going there. But trust me, he’s everything a woman could want. He even likes kids.
<<Major sigh>> I totally blew it. I got too close. We read the Sunday paper in bed!!! I let him help with the crossword! (Help, hah. He got more words than I did). I have no idea what came over me. Now, I’ve got to break it off. Stop things before the relationship gets any more complicated.
I’m trying to be brave and sensible and do the right thing by him. He deserves an easy letdown. Not like what I did last night. Told him I couldn’t meet him because I had another date. See? I’m pond scum. I’m blowing things all the way around. I need HELP, guys. Desperately!!!
Love,
Angel, the big fat chicken
Tori hit Send and then closed her laptop and squinted at her bedside clock. Already 2:00 a.m. and she hadn’t slept for a single minute. By tomorrow night she’d be a wreck if she didn’t get some rest. She set her computer aside, turned off the light, then slid deep under the covers and prayed for mind-numbing sleep.
To: The Gang at Eve’s Apple
From: Barbara@EvesApple.com
Subject: The gutless wonder
Angel,
The sex is that great and you’re gonna spare us? Please!!!!! You should be shot at dawn.
Hate to sound dense but I don’t get it. The guy is wonderful, funny, smart, patient… So what’s the problem!?! Sounds like you lucked out, kiddo. I say don’t hesitate, go full speed ahead.
Love and kisses,
Barbara
To: The Gang at Eve’s Apple
From: Taylor@EvesApple.com
Subject: Make love, not war
Angel,
I’m with Barbara. He sounds perfect. Unless you’re already engaged or something, I don’t see a problem. I’ve got a confession to make. When I was first seeing Ben and wondering what I should do, you wrote an e-mail that bothered me. A very pessimistic e-mail about how true supreme happiness with the opposite sex is meant to be temporary. You said that life isn’t a fairy tale but if I was really lucky I could be a princess for just a little while.
I didn’t believe it then, or at least I didn’t want to believe it, and I absolutely don’t believe it now. I think that’s the kind of stuff we all tell ourselves in case we don’t meet Mr. Right. Don’t believe your own propaganda, Angel. Two years, five, ten years from now you’ll look back and say if only…Don’t do that to yourself. Give yourself a chance. And J, too.
I’m thinking about you.
Love,
Taylor
Tori reread each e-mail and tried to stay calm. They were supposed to be her friends, her allies. None of this was helpful. It sounded as if they were on Jake’s side.
Still exhausted after only three hours of sleep, she sighed and set the laptop aside. She was tired and overreacting. Of course she hadn’t laid out the whole story for them so they didn’t have a picture of her family situation. It wasn’t fair to expect the gang to understand and sympathize.
She rolled out of bed and headed for the bathroom. A shower and shampoo would make her feel better. And if the circles under her eyes hadn’t disappeared by this evening, she’d just have to slap on a ton of makeup.
Anyway, what did she care what she looked like tonight? The only person she wanted to impress wouldn’t be at the benefit.
WHITE-GLOVED WAITERS passed silver trays artfully laden with canapés and flutes of champagne. Tables set with sparkling crystal and royal-blue china shone under dazzling chandeliers. On the stage, the band softly played “Moon River.”
“So good to finally meet you.” Marian Whitford shook Kathryn’s hand. “The room looks marvelous. You’ve done a wonderful job with this year’s benefit.” She glanced around the ballroom. “In fact, I think this may be the best turnout in the past ten years. Don’t you think, girls?” She smiled at Mallory and Tori.
They both nodded and smiled back, and then Mallory whispered, “She’s so full of it. She only said that so Kathryn knows she’s been a patron for that long.”
Tori pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. Her sister was sounding more and more like her old self. Too much at times. “Keep your voice down,” Tori whispered back. “Or it’s going to be one hell of a long dinner.”
“A lot of thanks goes to your daughter,” Kathryn said, and Tori stiffened. “She’s been invaluable to me for the past three weeks. Didn’t hesitate for a second to jump in and roll up her sleeves.”
Her mother gave Tori a tight smile. No one else but Mallory would recognize the danger lurking behind those lips. “We’re very proud of her.”
Mallory cleared her throat in an effort to catch Tori’s eye. But Tori wouldn’t take the bait. They’d both end up in a fit of laughter.
“Oh, please excuse me, Kathryn,” her mother said as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. “I see that the mayor and his wife have just arrived. I must go extend my condolences. I’m sure you heard about their poodle, Schmoofy, passing last week.”
Kathryn’s brows went up, clearly surprised speechless, but they were all spared a reply when Marian headed toward her next victim.
“Don’t mind her, Kathryn,” Mallory said, idly watching their mother sashay away. “She’s had her hair dyed one too many times.”
“Mallory,” Tori murmured and gave her an elbow to the ribs.
Kathryn tried to hide a smile and briefly looked the other way.
“May I get either of you a drink?” Mallory asked. “I’m heading to the bar.”
Tori winced. She’d hoped her sister would hold off longer. “I’ll have a Perrier.”
“That sounds good to me, too, if you don’t mind,” Kathryn said.
“Back in a minute.”
As soon as Mallory was out of earshot, Tori asked, “How’s Beth doing?”
“She’s meeting with a divorce attorney tomorrow. A friend of mine who does pro bono work.”
“No kidding. That’s terrific. Did she actually ask to talk to an attorney?”
“I wouldn’t have hooked her up with one if it hadn’t been her idea.”
Tori sighed. “Of course.”
Kathryn smiled. “Don’t beat yourself up. When we first start this kind of hands-on volunteering we all want to rush to the rescue.”
“I’m honestly trying to keep my distance.”
“I know.” Kathryn patted her arm. “I wasn’t just blowing smoke at your mother. You’ve been really helpful. Some volunteers read a book while they wait for the hot line to ring. You almost single-handedly got out every invitation and made—”
“Don’t, Kathryn. I don’t like talking about it. I’d rather you didn’t say anything about my work at the center to anyone.”
“Why?”
Tori shrugged. “It’s…personal.”
Alarm flashed in Kathryn’s eyes. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”
“It’s no big deal. It’s just, I don’t know…not something I normally talk about.” Tori glanced around and spotted her mother busy with the mayor. “So Beth doesn’t have to worry about attorney’s fees, right? Because I could—”
“I promise, it’s completely taken care of. My friend has handled quite a few cases for women who’ve stayed at the shelter. I prepare all the paperwork for court and she files. Her time spent is cut in half.”
“Nice.” Tori smiled at her. “I’ve read some of your case workups. You should have been an attorney yourself.”
Kathryn laughed. “I was.”
“What?”
“I didn’t like it.”
“Here you go, ladies.” Mallory approached with two glasses of sparkling water topped with wedges of lime.
“Thanks.” Kathryn accepted one. “Hate to drink and run but I’ve got to go make nice and mingle. Maybe I can get a few more checkbooks to open.” She smiled at Mallory. “Stop by the center some time. Give me a shot at talking you into volunteering.”
Mallory chuckled as Kathryn walked out of earshot. “I like her. I doubt I’ll volunteer, but I like her.”
Tori watched Kathryn cross the room and greet an elderly couple, big-time Houston philanthropists whose names momentarily escaped Tori. She was still too taken aback over what Kathryn had said. Not that it was a big deal. People changed careers all the time. But to go through all those years of law school and then give it up…
“Hey, you.” Mallory nudged her. “Did I tell you how great you look in that dress?”
Tori glanced down at the slinky black silk that ended three inches above her knees. “Not too tight?”
“Hell, no. It’s perfect, bitch.”
“Thank you,” Tori said, laughing and then quickly sobered when she spotted her mother heading toward them. “Oh, no.”
Mallory followed her gaze and sighed. “And you wonder why I drink? I guess it’s time for me to go find Richard.”
“Don’t you dare leave me.” Tori glared at her, and then transferred her gaze back to her mother. She’d stopped to talk with someone, that practiced smile in place, the one that oozed charm and civility and hid any uncharitable thoughts.
Tori had to admit there was more animation in her mother’s expression than normal, which made her curious about her mother’s companion. Dark hair, dressed in a tuxedo like all the other men in the room, his back was to Tori so she didn’t recognize him. He was tall and broad-shouldered like Jake, and if she didn’t know better she would have guessed the stranger was him.
JAKE TOOK GREAT PLEASURE in the fact that Mrs. Whitford had no idea who he was. If she had, she wouldn’t have wasted so much as a second on him. It didn’t matter that he’d been in her garden five days running, that they’d had discussions about her precious roses. She wouldn’t know him from Adam.
“I don’t believe I’ve seen you at one of these functions before,” she said, accepting a glass of champagne from a passing waiter without a glance or thank you.
He smiled. “I usually just send a check.”
“Yes, of course.” She returned the smile, leaning toward him and lowering her voice as if in conspiracy. “I know what you mean. I’d often prefer to do the same but, well, as you know, there are times when appearances count.”
He sipped his champagne and pretended to be interested in her drivel while he scanned the room. He hadn’t seen Victoria yet. She was probably hiding from her mother. Man, two women couldn’t be more different. Even in the looks department. Mallory appeared more like her mother, blond and petite, perfect hair, perfect makeup. Not like Victoria.
Thinking of how she looked when she woke up in the morning made him smile. Her hair tangled, faint smudges under her eyes because she admittedly was too lazy to remove all her makeup. Even when she ran out to the market she didn’t worry about her hair and slapping stuff on her face. She just went. And she always looked great.
Damn her.
He should still be pissed. In fact, he was angry. Angry at her for rubbing it in that she still dated other men. More appropriate men. And even angrier at himself for being such a brainless jerk. How could he possibly still want her? Yet, there it was.
“Nice meeting you.” Mrs. Whitford extended her hand, annoyance flickering in her eyes. His mind had wandered and she probably felt dissed. “I’m Marian by the way. Marian Whitford.”
He accepted her hand. No surprise it was one of those limp, insincere handshakes. “Jake.”
“I must run. I see that the Radcliffs have arrived and I need to speak with Eleanor.” She was off like a shot, preying on someone more important.
As he surveyed the room again, Jake took another gulp of champagne. The stuff wasn’t bad but he’d still rather have beer or wine. He tried to loosen his tie by sticking a finger between it and his shirt but the sucker was too snug.
If this was the way rich people spent their weekends, he just didn’t get it. The music wasn’t bad, the booze and food actually pretty damn good, but the air kisses and phony smiles were enough to make him gag.
No, thanks. He’d rather sit home with a pizza and a six-pack. Better yet would be sitting on his deck with Victoria, watching the sunset.
Shaking his head, he headed for the bar. If he had any pride, an ounce of common sense, he’d leave. Right now. Before she saw him.
Yeah, right.
“OH, MY, GOD.” Mallory’s eyes widened. “You’re never going to guess who’s here.”
Tori had traded her Perrier for champagne. At her sister’s words, she clutched the crystal so tightly it was a wonder it didn’t shatter. Mallory didn’t have to tell her who the surprise guest was. She knew. As if she could feel his heat from across the room. “Jake,” she whispered.
Mallory looked at Tori. “You know? Oh, my God, did you invite him?
“Of course not.”
“He was just talking to Mother.”
“I know.” Tori kept her back to him, hoping he wouldn’t see her.
“I didn’t even think she knew him.”
“I didn’t, either.” Tori struggled for composure. “Maybe she doesn’t. Maybe she— I don’t know…”
“I’ll call him over.” Mallory lifted a hand, which Tori promptly yanked back.
“Please, Mall, don’t.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“I’ll explain later.”
Mallory’s brows drew together as she studied Tori with rabid curiosity. And then her gaze drifted past Tori. “Too late. He’s coming this way.”
Tori swallowed a gulp of champagne, keeping her back to him, hoping like crazy he hadn’t seen her. Coming this way didn’t mean coming this way.
“Good evening, Victoria.”
She briefly closed her eyes, moistened her lips and turned around. “Jake.”
He smiled, and then glanced at Mallory, who raptly watched them as if she were anticipating the final play at Wimbledon. “Hi, you’re Mallory, right?”
She nodded. “I know who you are. A pleasure to finally meet you.”
Tori continued to glare at him but to her sister said, “I think it’s time you went to look for Richard.”
“He can find me.”
“Mallory.” She slid her sister a warning look.
“Right.” She pressed her lips together but couldn’t quite hide the smile. “I think I’ll go look for my husband.”
Tori barely waited until Mallory was out of earshot. “Did you follow me here?”
“Not exactly. No, wait a minute.” He made a face, amusement lurking in his eyes. “Technically, the answer to that would be no.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Same as you. Supporting a good cause.”
A waiter stopped to offer them more champagne, and Tori quickly shut her mouth. She smiled politely at the man, accepted a fresh glass of bubbly Jake lifted off the tray for her, and then as soon as the waiter left, she went back to glaring at Jake. “You weren’t invited.”
“Sure was.”
“I sent out practically all of the invitations myself. I don’t remember your name.”
“It went to my company, and since I’m president—”
“Namely?”
“A-One Landscaping. Ring a bell?”
She thought she recognized it, but that didn’t matter. “A-One Landscaping?”
“A catchy name if I do say so myself. Number one, I don’t need my name plastered on a sign or a building,” he said, and she struggled to hold her tongue. “Number two, it puts me first in the Yellow Pages under landscaping. Old trick, I know, but it works.”
She glanced around, pinpointing her mother’s location. Her father hadn’t shown up yet. He always arrived late to social functions. “You could’ve told me you were coming.”
“I didn’t think I was, but since I didn’t have anything else to do, I figured what the hell.” He looked her directly in the eyes. “Besides, you didn’t tell me this was where you were going. In fact, you tell me very little about yourself, Victoria.”
“Bull,” she said, apparently too loudly because a passing white-haired couple sent her a disapproving look. “I’ve told you more than I’ve shared with anyone else. Including my sister.”
His gaze narrowed slightly. “I’m honored.”
“Never mind,” she whispered, and darted a look around.
“I meant that, damn it.” The disappointment in his voice got to her. “What’s the big deal about me being here? I took a shower. Even brushed my teeth and used deodorant for the occasion.”
“Oh, Jake.” She sighed, knowing she’d hurt him. “You took me by surprise. That’s all. I saw you talking to my mother, and, oh, God…” The champagne was making her dizzy. Or maybe it was fatigue. “What the hell was that conversation about?”
“Not you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“What else do you have in common?”
His jaw tightened, and he looked at her with a disdain she’d never seen. Cutting, horrible. Shameful. “Perhaps we were discussing the garden.”
She hadn’t thought of that. “Were you?”
“No.” He took a long deliberate sip of champagne, and she could tell he was trying to keep a rein on his temper.
She hadn’t meant to anger or hurt him. But that’s what she’d done. Not just tonight. The problem had been escalating all along. From the moment she’d invited him into her life, she’d asked for trouble. He’d become an addiction she couldn’t kick. It was all her fault, not his.
“I’m sorry,” she said finally. “What you and my mother talked about is none of my business.”
“You’re damn right.”
She sucked in a breath, never having seen him so angry. “Excuse me,” she said. “I’ll leave. I was inexcusably rude and I apologize.”
She turned but his hand on her arm stopped her. “We didn’t talk about anything important. She didn’t even know who I was.”
“She didn’t?” Tori sighed and shook her head, not at all surprised.
“So don’t worry. I didn’t embarrass you or your mother.”
She stepped back, momentarily speechless. When she finally found the wherewithal to speak, she said, “Are you kidding? The one I’m embarrassed about is my mother.”