“Is your bag packed?” Lane asked, his lips moving against her hair.
“No. My parents showed up right after work, and I haven’t had time. It’ll just take a few minutes, though. And I need to change.” With renewed spirits, Mandi dashed to her bedroom. She slipped into a casual skirt and flip-flops and her best lingerie, then tossed a few other clothes and toiletries into a bag. Her shoes went in, too, but the dress she kept on a hanger.
In the bathroom, she freshened her make-up and spritzed herself with her favorite perfume, taking a moment to wonder where they’d be going tonight. She’d told him not to go overboard. Still, she figured the man had something kind of swanky planned. She applied a coat of lipstick and gave her hair another quick toss, then met Lane in the living room, her feet nearly dancing across the floor.
Lane took the bag and dress from her hands. “Is this everything?”
Mandi smiled. “For one night, that ought to do it.”
“All right, then. You ready?”
She glanced around the room, and then remembered she hadn’t checked her messages. Damn. “Oh, wait. I need to do one other thing. Why don’t you go ahead and put those in the car?”
“Sure.”
He opened the door, and Mandi snatched up her purse and headed back to her bedroom, shutting the door behind her. She fished her phone out of its pocket and opened the message from Emma.
“Hey, Mandi. This is Emma. The Oslands are up for next weekend. Just let me know whether Saturday or Sunday works best for you.”
Okay, Mandi breathed. Surely Lane wouldn’t come back up two weekends in a row. She’d have to find out for sure before he left. For a moment, she rested the phone against her chest, and let his words float through her mind again. He said he’d missed her. Unable to deny the surge of pleasure that accompanied that thought, she smiled to herself. After a quick response to Emma, Mandi switched the ringer on her phone to silent, then tucked the phone back into her purse. She didn’t want to be disturbed the rest of the night.
**
Lane pulled the car into the circle drive and popped the latch on the trunk. He shot Mandi a tentative smile before he opened the door, hoping she wouldn’t freak out if a bellman appeared. It wasn’t the top hotel in Dallas, but it wasn’t a Best Western, either. He was in the mood for a little luxury. He damned sure couldn’t spend more than one night in that lumpy box she called a bed. Besides that, he wanted to see Mandi in a nicer environment. She didn’t even seem to realize, with her looks and background, the way she carried herself, this is where she belonged.
Just thinking about the suite with large bed, soft sheets and pile of pillows sent a jolt of electricity to his system. He couldn’t wait to see all those curls spread across the pillows. He opened her car door and helped her out, then guided her inside.
“Oh, Lane.” She swiveled around, and bumped into his chest. But he knew what was coming, and kept moving. He grabbed her hand and made for the desk, pulling her along before she could protest.
“Lane Whitmore,” he told the clerk, and handed her his American Express card.
Mandi tugged on his arm. “This is too much,” she hissed.
He turned and smiled at her, then leaned in and pretended to whisper in her ear. He lingered a moment, hoping his warm breath on her neck would be enough to distract her.
She looked up at him with a puzzled frown. “What?”
Without answering, Lane turned his attention back to the clerk, who handed him their room keys, and pointed to the elevators. He handed a key to Mandi. “You go on up, and I’ll park the car.” When she looked at him, her mouth the shape of an “O,” he shrugged, deliberately misinterpreting her reaction. “No valet service, I guess.” Of course they did, but he’d waved them off.
A few minutes later, Lane made his way to their room. He held his breath a moment before inserting the key card, hoping she’d calmed down and accepted the suite.
He opened the door, and stepped inside. And nearly choked. She’d changed into a tiny black dress with sheer straps and neckline. She glanced up from pouring the wine that had been delivered per his instructions.
“Looks like you thought of everything,” she said lightly, holding a glass out to him.
Crossing the room, he took the glass in one hand, and reached out for a lock of hair with the other. “God, you look amazing.” He touched her glass with his. “To a night just for us.”
Watching him, she lifted the glass to her lips and took a sip. Then she touched his arm. “So tell me about all of this. Why did you decide to go so fancy?” After she specifically said not to.
He slipped a hand around her waist. “Because you deserve to get out of Northtown occasionally.” He tipped her chin. “Don’t be upset, babe. It’s only for one night. Besides,” he moved in closer. “You look good here.” He took another drink of the wine, then covered her lips with his, moving slowly across them. With his free hand, he pressed her to him.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
She gave a light laugh. “You mean for food?”
He grazed a finger across her cheek. “Not necessarily.”
“Do we have reservations?”
Lane took a step back, and shook his head. “Nope. Wasn’t sure whether you’d want to go out or call for room service.” He shoved a hand in his pocket, his eyes searching her face. “It’s up to you.”
It was so odd, Mandi mused. All this time, she’d been on her own, living so simply, taking care of herself, and all of a sudden, people were pushing her in a new direction. Pushing her out of the familiar, back into a life that used to be. It rankled her that Lane had gone against her specific wishes, but she understood this is who he was. It wasn’t worth arguing about. She’d only have him a little while longer. Stalling, she took a sip of the wine. Don’t be pissy, she told herself. A gorgeous man is trying to treat you well. Thoughts of Brit slammed into her, but she didn’t want to go there. She brushed off the twinge of guilt and rested her head against Lane’s shoulder.
“Let’s stay in for a little while, at least.”
Mandi felt the zipper on her dress slide open, then gasped as warm, firm hands pressed against her skin. His lips touched her shoulders, and the next thing she knew, she was sliding between cool sheets. Lane tucked a soft pillow under her head and propped on his elbow, his fingers running down her chest and stomach.
“You’re beautiful,” he said softly.
Mandi’s heart flip-flopped. She’d never heard those words from a man before. Savoring them, she twined her arms around his neck and pulled him to her, as heat surged through her.
When their breathing evened out, Mandi turned into Lane’s chest, pulling a pillow with her. She had to admit, she felt deliciously pampered. She’d just closed her eyes again when she heard Lane’s stomach rumble. She smiled against him. “Still hungry?” she asked.
He rolled her to her back, claiming her mouth with his. “Always.”
“I’m thinking room service,” Mandi whispered.
“My thoughts, exactly,” he murmured, nipping her ear.
Mandi was reluctant to leave the warmth of the bed, but she’d feel awkward staying there while room service delivered their food. She got up and slipped into one of the guest robes hanging on the rack. While Lane ordered, she stepped into the bathroom and tried to make her hair and face somewhat presentable again.
A few minutes later, she approached the table, and Lane poured another glass of wine. Then he pressed his hands to her shoulders and turned her around. The rustling behind her sounded like tissue paper.
“No peeking,” he whispered.
In the next second his fingers moved across her skin, and she felt something cool and heavy around her neck. Looking down, she gasped. A multi-strand necklace of pearls and crystals danced in the lights.
She swiveled around, clutching the necklace. “Lane, this is gorgeous. But I– You don’t need to buy me things. I’m–”
He pressed a finger to her lips. “I wanted to. Can’t you let a guy have a little fun?”
Mandi’s breath caught, and inside she pleaded with Lane not to be like her father. Of course Lane’s gift didn’t come with any strings or guilt. That made it different. She fingered the smooth beads resting against her chest. The necklace would be a treasured keepsake of their time together.
Lane picked up the wine glass and handed it to her, then steered her to the table. Leaning back in his chair, he stroked the top of her hand.
“You look like you have something on your mind,” she said lightly.
“Yeah. Trying to decide whether it’d be really stupid to break the mood and talk shop.”
She grinned at him. “The project?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You have some ideas?”
“I do.”
Mandi leaned her arms against the table, then pulled back when she realized the position caused her breasts to swell above the neckline of the robe. “I want to hear.”
“I can’t promise anything, but I’m going to propose that the city take over part of the strip center on Washington and open a satellite police station.”
She stared at him while she processed the idea. That wouldn’t be cheap. But, God, it would make such a difference. “Would they really do that?”
“Not sure. But I’ve been researching other cities that have done it, and it’s been successful in making the area safer.”
“Oh, Lane. It sounds wonderful.”
“Thinking a small community center would be nice, too. Place for a day care and some classes. Maybe get some kind of city center going that people would care about.”
She smiled at him, the familiar feeling of pride sweeping through her. “That would be amazing. No one would object to that.”
He scoffed. “Don’t bet on it, babe. Believe me, some people will object to anything. People like Jimmy will think it costs too much. Others will be skeptical because they think the cops are crooks. Count on it. No plan will ever please everyone.”
“True, but it’s too early in the process to settle. We need to expect more, not less.”
A slow grin spread across his face. “I like the way you think.”
Their dinner arrived, and the servers placed beautiful salads and artfully arranged grilled salmon and rice pilaf in front of them then lit the candles on the table. Lane signed the check, and lifted his glass to hers once again.
“This was a good idea,” Mandi said, beginning to feel the effects of the wine. It’d be nice to be able to fall into bed and not have to drive anywhere.
Shortly after dinner, the cotton robe fell away, and Mandi left it rumpled on the floor.
“It’s going so fast,” Mandi said with a soft sigh sometime later as she moved her hand up and down Lane’s arm.
“Sorry,” he said. “I’ll try to slow down next time.”
Mandi let out a sharp laugh, and whacked his arm. “That’s not what I meant.” She had no complaints about Lane’s lovemaking. In fact, she had a feeling she might regret insisting that they stay in the hotel for one night only. “What time is check-out?” she asked.
He nuzzled against her neck. “Not a minute before noon.”
With a sigh, she snuggled deeper into the bed and twined a leg around his.
Reality hit about eight o’clock the next morning. Way too early, Mandi thought as she rolled over and came up against Lane’s solid chest. “Did you put the do-not-disturb sign on the doorknob last night?” she whispered.
“Mm-hmm,” came the deep, throaty response.
“Good.”
He scooped her up, and she could see the spark ignite in his eyes. And it sent a tingling sensation to every nerve ending inside her.
At eleven forty-five, Lane checked their luggage with the concierge then they crossed through the spacious lobby to the glass doors at the back. Warm sunshine showered the patio, and water shimmered in the pool. A few guests lounged around the deck.
They took a sunny table with a view of the pool and surrounding gardens.
“Wow,” Mandi said. “This is really pretty.” The walkways were lined with perfectly shaped hedges and a row of geraniums in bold pinks and red. At equal intervals, huge pots filled with flowers and tall plumes of ornamental grasses broke the line of hedges. She hated to think how much just one of those pots of flowers cost. At least, she conceded, the landscaping provided jobs. The grounds practically swarmed with people trimming, cutting and watering.
Mandi ordered a Diet Coke and a cobb salad, then her head whipped around as the man at the next table snapped his fingers. Apparently to get the attention of the waitress. Mandi watched as the young girl, probably not twenty, smiled and approached the table.
“This salad was supposed to have grilled chicken, not fried,” the man said, gesturing toward his wife’s plate.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” the girl said, lifting the plate. “Let me fix that for you.”
Mandi bristled at the man’s harsh tone, but she turned her attention back to the much more pleasant man seated across from her.
“So when are the parents heading out?” Lane asked.
“Not sure. But Mom said they already found a couple of houses they like near Warren, so I don’t think it’ll be long. Especially now that I have the new car.” She screwed up her face. “Means they won’t have to worry about me so much.”
“Ah. I’m sure they do worry about you living in Northtown by yourself, Mandi. Can’t blame them for that.”
“I guess.”
“You sorry to see them go?”
Mandi took a sip of her drink and thought about that. “Not sure. I don’t see them all that often, but I suppose there’s a kind of safety net, knowing they’re close by.” She’d used it in the days after Brit died. It would be different without them, for sure, but she could survive one year on her own. Her plan was to be pregnant and keep a low profile, anyway. And she had friends at Jimmy’s if she got into a bind.
“Besides, I’ll be lookin’ at Texas in my rearview mirror soon, too.”
Lane’s eyebrows arched. “Soon?”
“I’ve decided to apply to colleges this fall. Probably move next summer after I know where I’m go–”
She broke off as the woman at the next table wailed. “Oh, no. Now it has dressing all over it. I asked for no dressing.”
A red blush spread over the waitress’s face. She’d delivered the new salad, but there was another problem. Oh, jeez, poor girl. Mandi could remember days like that.
“Jesus Christ,” the man swore.
“I’ll bring another immediately,” the waitress said. “And it’ll be on the house.”
And she probably wouldn’t get a tip, Mandi thought.
The girl snatched up the plate, and a knife clattered to the tiled floor. The man shook his head, a disgusted scowl on his face. Mandi’s fingers itched to slap that long-suffering look right off the man’s haughty jowls.
To her relief, Lane slid out of his chair, quickly picked up the knife and handed it to the girl.
“Here you go,” he said.
Mandi sent a cool glare toward the other table then turned back to Lane. “Whew. That was nice of you. God, that’s what I hate about places like this.”
“What?” Lane asked.
“The superior people. It’s a lovely setting, gorgeous views. I admit, it’s a nice place to hang out. But these hotels attract rude, egotistical assholes who think they’re better than everyone else because of their bank account.” Her voice rose, but she didn’t care if it carried to the next table. In fact, she rather hoped it did.
Lane reached out and squeezed her hand. “Take it easy, there, babe.”
The waitress returned with a fresh salad and placed it on the table, then she handed the man a menu. “Please, choose a complimentary dessert also.”
“We don’t have time for dessert now,” the woman complained.
Mandi closed her eyes, wishing they could move to another table and not have to witness the ugliness and the girl’s obvious embarrassment.
“We could certainly put it in a box to go for you.”
“Fine,” the man growled. “We’ll have the cheesecake.”
Mandi tried to concentrate on her own salad, which had been artfully presented, and exactly right.
When the couple finally left a few minutes later, Mandi let out a heavy sigh.
“What do you want to bet they didn’t even leave a tip?” she asked Lane. “It was most likely the kitchen’s screw up because they didn’t read her instructions, but she’ll get penalized.”
“Mandi, I’m sure they expect a certain amount of this sort of thing.”
She shook her head. “It only affects her, though. In a place like this, she ought to get five to ten bucks for a lunch tip. At the end of the day, that makes a difference for some of us.”
Lane set down his fork. Why did she insist on lumping herself in with the down-and-out minimum-wage crowd? He thought a minute. Should he take the bet? Would the guy be so cheap not to leave a tip? It was possible, he supposed, but it really wasn’t any of their business.
He glanced around, then back at Mandi’s pursed lips. “Want to look?”
“Yes.”
She scrambled up and slid the black leather folder off the table. She shook her head and held it out to him. “Nothing,” she said flatly.
Lane stood and took the folder from her. He slipped a bill inside then placed it back on the table, and ran a hand down Mandi’s arm. “Come on. Don’t let it ruin our lunch.”
He saw her glance at the check, then quickly up at him. A soft smile shone on her face – worth every penny of the tip he’d left for someone else’s meal.
“That was very generous,” Mandi said. She took a drink of her Coke but her gaze didn’t leave his face. “I know you did it for me, but would you have even thought about if I weren’t here?”
Lane had to sigh. Probably not. He squeezed her hand. “You make me see things I wouldn’t ever have noticed before.”
**
“Guess I’ll hang out here for a while,” Lane said when Mandi emerged from the bedroom in her uniform.
“Sure. There’s Coke and beer in the fridge.” She had a moment’s pause, though. Surely the papers under the couch were safe. What if he dropped a pencil or something and went fishing around under there? She should’ve stuck those inside Paige’s room. Now she’d worry.
“I’ll come by later.” He planted a quick kiss on her lips.
That might be better. “Okay. Bye.” She’d just have to let it go. Nothing she could do about it now.
For a Saturday night, Jimmy’s was slow.
“I wonder what’s going on around here,” Mandi said to Kendra. “Is there a big game or something? Where is everybody?”
Kendra shrugged. “Not sure. I think there was some kind of race today. And Craig said something about a fight on TV tonight.”
“Oh. That would explain it. Everyone’s at a sports bar.”
Jimmy had resisted installing televisions in the diner. One more thing to break. Or get stolen. And he didn’t want to encourage people to sit around taking up a table that could be turning. Seemed to Mandi, that at least one TV up at the counter couldn’t hurt, though. Jimmy was so reluctant to change. One of these days he just might wake up and find the rest of the world had left him behind.
That reminded her of getting the uniforms. “You know, Jimmy needs to pull his head out of the dark ages. Like these nasty uniforms. I think we should launch a campaign for new ones.”
“Uh-huh,” Kendra said. “Good luck with that.”
“What if we found something that we all like and presented it to him? Why would he care as long as it doesn’t cost a lot of money?”
“Sure, Mandi.”
Clearly, Kendra didn’t care either. To keep busy, Mandi began filling salt and pepper shakers at the counter area.
A few minutes later, the bells chimed, and they both turned around. Lane sauntered in with his briefcase. “Hello, ladies. Got any fresh coffee?”
“We will in a few minutes,” Mandi told him. “Have a seat.”
He nodded, and took the back booth while Mandi reached for the coffee carafe to brew a fresh pot.
“Psst, Mandi.”
Mandi turned and saw Kendra nod toward the door. “Looks like you’re popular tonight.”
Mandi’s eyes followed Kendra’s gaze. She did a double-take, and the blood drained from her face. She gripped the counter. What the hell did he want?
She stared as Aaron came closer, came straight toward her. Biting her lip, she took in his appearance. His blond hair was shorter than he used to wear it, and he looked fit, his broad shoulders and chest all but erasing the beer belly he’d been acquiring when she last saw him. Clearly being divorced from her had been a good thing for him.
When he got to the counter, he hitched his shoulders. “Hey.”
Her dry mouth could hardly croak out a response. “What are you doing here, Aaron?”
“Can you talk a minute?”
Mandi glanced around, her gaze meeting Lane’s for just a moment. She looked at Kendra.
“Sure,” Kendra said. “Go ahead.”
On nervous legs, Mandi stepped around the counter, and down the hallway toward the restrooms, out of sight of most of the dining area. “What’s up?” she asked, wiping her hands on her apron. He seemed pretty nonchalant. In fact, Mandi thought, his demeanor could be described as friendly. A far cry from how he’d treated her in the last days of their marriage.
Aaron shoved his hands in his pockets. He looked at the floor, then back at Mandi.
She waited for him to say something, to give some explanation for the surprise visit.
“I just wanted to tell you I’m getting married.”
Mandi’s breath caught in her throat. “You are? To who?”
“You won’t know her. Adrienne Porter. She’s a hair stylist.”
Mandi swallowed hard, thoughts hammering her brain. He was getting married again. For the right reason? “Do you love her, Aaron? For real?”
A crooked smile spread across his face. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”
Tears pricked Mandi’s eyes, and her hand flew to her mouth. Unable to speak, she nodded.
He bent to look at her eye-level. “Hey, you all right?”
Mandi wasn’t prepared for the emotional blast that accompanied Aaron’s announcement. She knew it would happen someday, but hadn’t expected the relief that rushed through her. Some women were probably bitter when they found out their ex-husband had found someone else. But for Mandi it was like a heavy, wet blanket had been lifted from her shoulders. She could cast off the burden of Aaron’s derailed plans.
She nodded again. “Good. I’m glad. Really, I am. You deserve to be happy.”
He reached out and touched her arm. “Look, I know I said some mean things–”
Mandi interrupted, swiping at her eyes. “We both did.” Oh, God, the things they’d said to each other, the hateful names he’d called her. How could she forget?
Aaron heaved an audible sigh. “I know. And I’m sorry about that. I’m . . . I’m in a better place now. And, well, I hope you are, too.”
His eyes shifted as he glanced back toward the dining room, and his face colored. “Well, you know. I mean mentally.”
A better place, Mandi thought. Was she? Not really. Here she was still waiting tables. Still working two dead-end jobs. Still in Northtown. God, she had to get out of there. She forced down the flutter of anxiety that erupted inside her. She was working on it. And making progress. She had a couple of college courses under her belt, and the new car. Most importantly, she had a plan for getting the hell out of there.
She looked back at Aaron and saw concern in his face. At that, the dam broke. Mandi’s shoulders shook, and tears poured down her face. To her great surprise, Aaron put his arms around her, and pulled her close, patting her back.
“Shhh. Mandi, it’s okay. Come on.”
She sobbed into his shoulder, and he held her a few moments longer.
When he pulled back, he looked into her eyes. “I just needed to know you’re gonna be all right.”
Mandi sniffled. “I’m fine, Aaron. Really. I’m happy for you. And– and I’m glad you told me.”
Through watery eyes, she studied the man who used to be her husband. They were so wrong for each other. Without their daughter, they’d made absolutely no sense. And now he’d found someone else. Thank God. A better place, he’d said. He was starting over. She hadn’t completely ruined his life.
He shrugged. “Well, didn’t want you to hear it on the streets.”
She nodded, then before she could stop herself, blurted out the biggest question on her mind. “Do you ever think of Paige? Do you miss her?”
Aaron’s eyes closed, and his shoulders sagged.
“All the time.”
She searched his face and saw truth there. And sadness, but also a sense of acceptance. He’d move on. He’d have other children. Mandi’s breath caught. Over time would he forget about Paige? When the time came, could she really leave Texas? Leave Paige there all alone?
“Okay then,” Aaron said, interrupting her thoughts. “I guess . . . I guess I’ll see you around. You take care.”
He leaned in and planted a quick kiss on her cheek, then turned and left.
With a hand over her mouth, Mandi watched Aaron’s retreating form for a moment. Then she dashed into the ladies restroom as a fresh wave of tears erupted. She didn’t know exactly how long she stayed in the bathroom, but she knew it’d been long enough. Her red nose and splotchy face advertised the fact that she’d been crying, but the small make-up bag she’d started carrying was tucked inside her purse, and locked in her cabinet. It’d be impossible to get to it without being seen.
Still dabbing at her eyes, Mandi opened the door, and stepped into the hallway. And stopped short. Lane leaned against the wall a few steps in front of her. His eyebrows arched as he pushed off from the wall. “You all right?” he asked.
Mandi took a shuddering breath, and nodded. “I’m fine.”
“That your ex?”
Boy, he didn’t miss a thing. “Yeah.”
“Everything okay?”
A smile tugged at her lips. “Yeah, actually. It is.” She crossed her arms, and met Lane’s gaze. “He’s getting married.”
Lane’s eyebrows shot up again. “He came here to tell you that?”
“Uh-huh. I’m glad. I’m very glad,” she said softly. “It’s good.”
Lane put an arm around her. “Good. So, did that take up your whole break, or can you sit down a minute?”
“Let me check in with Kendra first.”
She moved past Lane into the dining room. Customers filled only two tables.
“Go ahead and sit down,” Kendra said. “Have something to eat. It’s fine.”
Mandi didn’t feel much like eating, but she grabbed one of the pre-made salads from the refrigerated case and sat down across from Lane.
“Whew,” she said. “That was unexpected.”
“When did you last see him?”
“Oh, wow. It’s been a couple of years.” She rested her head in her hands, elbows on the table. “I’m so relieved.”
He held her gaze a long moment. “That mean you can stop beating yourself up now?”
She flopped back against the booth, and closed her eyes. Could she? Could she close that chapter and move on? Slowly, she nodded then looked at Lane. Her lips trembled even as they curved into a smile. “I think so,” she whispered.