Oh, what a difference a week made.
Jane casually unbuttoned her cardigan and turned to hang it on the back of her chair. Her date’s eyes dropped ever so slightly to the sheer material of the blouse she’d yet again borrowed from Grace, and she felt a heat flush her cheeks at the attention, however wanted.
She had to hand it to Rosemary. Jason Fitzpatrick was everything she’d built him up to be and more. He was an assistant district attorney in Burlington; he volunteered at an animal shelter and had two rescue dogs of his own, which he clearly doted on; he visited his mother in Massachusetts on the last Sunday of each month, always bringing her favorite flowers and a fresh dessert from a local bakery. He had no children, yet, but judging from his standing on the board at the children’s hospital, Jane decided this was a positive indication of his priorities and life goals. He was also divorced, though they’d chosen not to dwell on that subject.
The waitress appeared at their table and Jason placed the order in impeccable French. “I hope you don’t mind that I took the liberty. I can never resist the opportunity to practice,” he said with a wink.
“I took French in high school.” Jane grinned apologetically. “I’m afraid I don’t remember very much of it.”
“I lived abroad for a few years before law school, working my way through France and Spain. I speak Spanish, too,” Jason added, fighting off a grin.
Jane’s pulse fluttered. Gorgeous, smart, and he spoke two Romance languages. Could he be more perfect?
The soft sounds of a piano began to trickle into the dining room and Jane glanced into the lounge area, where couples had gathered around a baby grand near the window. Feeling Jason’s eyes on her, she pulled her attention back, flustered at the intensity of his piercing blue gaze.
“Do you play?” he asked, gesturing to the piano.
“I wish,” she said ruefully. “My mother was forever trying to get us to practice, but I was the youngest of three girls and I think she lost the battle by the time it came to me. I’d like my daughter to learn, though.”
His brow furrowed ever so slightly. “You have a daughter?”
“Sophie.” Jane beamed. “She’s four.”
“I knew about the divorce, but Rosemary never mentioned you had a child.” The line between his eyebrows deepened.
Jane felt her heart sink. Why would Rosemary not have mentioned her daughter? Taking a sip of her wine, she asked, “How do you know Rosemary again?”
“Her daughter Molly is in grad school with my younger sister.” He signaled to a passing waitress. “I’ll take another Scotch. Single malt.”
Jane eyed the crusty baguette in the middle of the table, feeling tense as the silence stretched. “Maybe I’ll just run to the powder room for a minute,” she said, already starting to stand.
She wove her way through the tables to the back of the restaurant and all but flung herself through the bathroom door. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t perfect, after all, but he was pretty damn close. He was trilingual. He volunteered. He was gorgeous. Really, she was just being overly critical. She was looking for problems where they didn’t exist—looking for a flaw, for a reason to end this and go home. And then what? Would she honestly feel better curled up in flannel pajamas in a big lonely bed?
Her lips pinched as she studied her reflection in the gilded mirror. It was the best she’d looked in a long time, with the exception of last Saturday—but that night she’d still been wearing her old lady cardigan, the one that made her look like she was joining a convent, Grace had said, not going out on a hot date.
Hot date. Yes, she was on a hot date, damn it, and she was going to enjoy herself.
She chuckled under her breath, forcing the last of her nerves from her system. She was overthinking this. It wasn’t like she was going to marry the man… Her hand began to tremble as she leaned into the mirror and touched up her lipstick, and she quickly tossed it back in her clutch. She wasn’t going to think about marriage now. Not with Adam. Not with Jason. Not with anyone.
Tonight she was a young, single girl in a beautiful—if slightly revealing—lacy top, in a fancy restaurant, dining with one of the most handsome men she had ever seen in her life. Even if he did seem to like to drink. And even if he did have a funny look on his face when she mentioned Sophie.
Well. She wasn’t going to think about that either. She was being overly sensitive. One glass of Scotch and a little jolt that she had a child were to be expected, right?
Jane smoothed her hair and then flattened her blouse at her hips. With one last check in the mirror over her shoulder, she lifted her chin and pulled open the door. Her heels tapped along the polished wooden floorboards as she retraced her way to the table, and her heart warmed at the sight of that clean-shaven face, the designer charcoal suit, and the navy silk tie that offset the electric hue of his irises.
Jason sipped his Scotch, barely noticing her as she slid into her seat. Jane opened her mouth to break the silence, but the waitress reappeared at that moment with their starter salad. And another Scotch. How long had she been in the restroom?
“So.” The polite smile froze on Jane’s face, and the first onset of anxiety hit her as Jason’s lids fell lower. He clutched the glass in his hand at a precarious angle, and she reached out to right it before the amber liquid could spill all over the untouched baguette.
Oh, why not? she thought, reaching for the baguette, and tore off a large chunk. She slathered it in butter with quick, determined strokes, seething. She couldn’t even meet Jason’s eyes as she bit into the bread and chewed. It was nearly as good as Anna’s, but not quite. Either way, she decided then and there that she may as well enjoy the meal.
“So how long have you been divorced?” she inquired, deciding to latch onto the most obvious topic. She’d been carefully instructed by Rosemary not to mention such a painful subject, but considering Jason was chasing his wine with a third glass of liquor, rules didn’t seem to apply anymore. She tore off another piece of bread, more liberal with the butter this time.
“Oh.” Jason pulled in a sigh and ran a hand over his jaw. “About four years.”
Jane tried to hide her surprise. She stopped chewing momentarily, thinking of uttering the same words so many years from now. Alone for four years. Sophie would be nearly nine by then; any hope of another child would seem lost. She’d loved growing up with two sisters, and she’d wanted the same for her daughter. Now, that seemed like a slim possibility. The losses just kept coming. One after the next.
She swallowed the bread too early, and sputtered. Tears prickled her eyes as she patted her chest and fumbled for the glass of water. Across from her, Jason only slightly perked up.
“Sorry,” Jane managed when she’d recovered. “Down the wrong pipe.”
When he said nothing, she refilled her wine from the bottle in the center. She’d always thought a gentleman might be the one to make this gesture, but it didn’t seem she was dining with one tonight.
Not that Adam was really a gentleman, she reminded herself. Not in the end.
“So four years?” Jane shook her head. “Divorce isn’t an easy process, I’m finding.”
“Tell me about it,” Jason spat. He leaned eagerly across the table, his eyes glinting with anger. “She took my house, the car, and she would have probably taken the kids if we’d had any, which, fortunately, we didn’t.”
Jane was aware that her eyes had grown wide. “Thank goodness for that,” she muttered.
She inhaled with relief as the waitress delivered their entrées. A little food might be just what he needs, Jane thought, forcing herself to focus on the positive. It had all been so promising when he picked her up tonight—she’d immediately shed that cardigan—and she had gone against Rosemary’s prudent advice and mentioned the divorce, which was clearly a touchy subject indeed. She herself was hardly free of sometimes venomous thoughts about Adam after all…
She returned her gaze to Jason as the waitress moved to the next table, and her lips thinned at the sight of his slumped posture, the tousled hair, and the lazy drift of his gaze.
Okay, so the guy was drunk.
“I’m sorry I mentioned your divorce.”
“Oh, I’m over it,” Jason said, taking a hearty bite of his steak.
Jane lowered her eyes to her food. She’d focus on the artful display. The delicate cream sauce that Anna would be sure to grill her about later. That must be rosemary in there, but Jane would never be able to decipher the other herbs. “Yes, well, it’s not easy to mend a broken heart,” she admitted.
He snorted. “The only broken heart was hers. What’s that saying?” He leaned into his elbow on the table and twirled his fork in the air. “Hell hath no fury…”
Jane gave him a long look. “Like a woman scorned?”
Jason gave a thin smile and pointed the fork in her direction. “Scorned is a very good word for her. I made one little mistake, just one time, and she’s never let me forget it.”
One little mistake. Jane could surmise what that would be.
She plucked her cardigan from the back of her chair and quickly shrugged it on, buttoning it to the very top. Her heart was pounding when she considered her options, knowing what she must do. Setting her napkin on her half-eaten dinner, she said calmly, “It’s been a really interesting evening, Jason, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to call it a night.”
Panic filled his expression as she grabbed her bag and pushed back her chair, and for a moment, Jane wavered. He was a lawyer, after all, and a handsome one. He spoke three languages and he was an Ivy League grad. So he had too much to drink—maybe he was nervous!
But no, she thought. No. He was a cheater. And that was one thing she could never look past.
“But—dinner! And… dessert! If you don’t like the food, then at least stay for a drink. I thought we could have a little fun at my place after this.”
Jane blinked. “Thank you, but no. I have a daughter to get home to.”
He was on his feet now, his hand on her arm, and she lowered her gaze to it. He had the sense to heed the silent warning, even in his current state. “Aw, damn. Rosemary’s going to make my life a living hell for this.”
Jane couldn’t help but smile. It was the most approachable thing he’d said all evening.
“At least let me give you a ride home,” he insisted.
“No,” Jane said sharply, pulling back. “I’ll find my way.”
She turned on her heel and quickened her pace to the door, pausing only to tell the waitress to cut him off or take his keys, and then pushed through the doors into the cool spring air. She hesitated with the phone in her hands, wondering who she should call. Her mother was watching Sophie, who would certainly be asleep by now, so that left Grace or Anna.
Grace was probably with Luke. Besides, she would probably be far too disappointed for Jane that the evening hadn’t gone well. Anna, on the other hand, didn’t seem to bother with romantic entanglements. Jane could learn a lot from that sister.
Anna answered on the third ring and told her she’d be there in twenty minutes. Instantly feeling better, Jane noticed a coffee shop at the corner and stepped inside. She ordered a tea and sat near the window, eagerly watching for her sister’s car. When it finally pulled to a stop just shy of twenty-five minutes later, she couldn’t slide in fast enough.
“Another bust?” Anna asked.
“I had to tell the waitress to take his keys.” Jane met Anna’s wide-eyed stare and they both burst into a fit of laughter.
“You don’t seem disappointed,” Anna mused, glancing in the rearview mirror as she pulled her car from the curb, then turned onto the road that led back toward Briar Creek.
“No,” Jane sighed. She stared out the window, as the shops and restaurants were replaced with a dark and seemingly endless forest. “He wasn’t looking to settle down. Maybe he wasn’t even capable of it. It’s better to know that up front, so you don’t end up surprised later.”
Anna nodded. “Nothing worse than a man finally showing you his true colors when it’s too late.”
Jane frowned. The edge in her sister’s tone seemed much too personal to be about Adam’s betrayal.
“I hope I didn’t interrupt your evening,” Jane said casually, noticing that Anna was dressed in her designer jeans and favorite blue top. There was a telltale smudge of gloss on her lips.
“Oh, I was just finishing up with Mark. Tweaking recipes for the contest…” She glanced at Jane and gave a quick shrug.
“I see,” Jane said, smiling to herself. She’d love for Anna to win the contest; it would be just the trick to get over the setback of the fire. She dropped her head back against the seat. “Is he still waiting for you then?”
“What? Oh no… no.” Anna had started to drum her pointer finger on the steering wheel: a nervous tic.
Jane narrowed her eyes. There had always been something weird between Anna and Mark. They’d been friendly enough growing up given their three-year age difference, but then after they both returned to Briar Creek from culinary school they could barely even be in the same room. Anna had never said a word on the subject, but she didn’t need to now. Her body language said everything.
Something was up between Anna and Mark. And it went deeper than running competing restaurants on Main Street.
“So things are going well then?” Jane slanted a glance at Anna, whose eyes were fixed on the road as they came into town.
“Oh, better than I expected, really. I hate to jinx things, but I think we stand a chance at winning.” She smiled. “That would be… a huge relief.”
“Are you still nervous about the loan?”
Anna pulled to a stop at a red light and tucked her hands under her thighs. “If I’m being honest, a bit, but please don’t tell Grace. She’ll just tell Luke and… I’d rather handle this myself. Grace and I are only now getting back on good terms. You know things were strained for us after she moved away.”
“I know.” Jane frowned as the light switched back to green. Anna had always resented Grace for moving to New York and not being there when their father died. Main Street Books was in sight now, and as they passed by it, she felt a physical ache for her father, remembering how much that old place meant to him. “Dad would be so proud of you. You know that, don’t you?”
Anna smiled sadly. “He’d be proud of all of us.”
Jane studied her sister’s stoic profile. “I wish I had money to lend you to help with everything, but you know I don’t.”
“Oh, Jane! That was never even a consideration. You have enough on your plate without worrying about this.” Anna lifted her chin. “I’ll get through it. Once the café reopens everything will be just fine.”
Jane’s frown deepened at the hesitancy in her sister’s voice. It wasn’t like her to be so unsure of herself.
“So,” Anna said, sliding her a grin. “You ready for another date?”
“Nope.” Jane shook her head firmly. “This was it. I’m telling Rosemary I’m done.”
“You sure?”
Jane gave her sister a pleading look. “I don’t think I’m ready to date. The thought of having my heart broken again…” She remembered who she was talking to and checked herself. “Sorry. I must sound ridiculous to you.”
Anna stared pensively ahead. “I think I understand better than you know.” She turned up the radio dial, shutting down any chance of the conversation continuing.
Jane studied her sister for a long moment, letting her words resonate, thinking back on the change she’d seen in her after she’d graduated from school, and then again this past week.
Yes, Anna might just understand her better than she thought, but not because Anna was good about avoiding romantic entanglements, but because, like Jane, she might be silently dealing with her very own.