Chapter 5

Only by moving his chair could Jackson keep his focus on the beautiful woman in front of him, and still it was hard to ignore the presence of the woman behind him. She disturbed him, like a rash, like athletes foot. She bothered, irritated, and upset him. He didn’t need this aggravation, especially right now. He wished she’d just go away, far away. Pulling himself back to the present, he fought to listen to his date.

****

Sabrina tried hard to pay attention to the stories circulating around their table, but even when she wasn’t peeking at Mr. Marvelous, and that wasn’t often, she was still conscious of him sitting just across the way. Oh, how she disliked him. He made her feel stupid, small, and completely batty. Would they chuck her out for hurling a pepper shaker at him? Probably, but just the sight of the guy raised her hackles.

Candace was relating a funny story of their ongoing battle to teach little Wyatt how to tie his shoelaces when everyone burst out laughing, startling Sabrina and bringing her focus back where it belonged. She pretended she’d heard the punch line, but her brother Sam wasn’t fooled. He studied her speculatively, and Sabrina lowered her eyes and immediately forked another bite of veal into her mouth, closing down his question before he could ask it.

As soon as the heat was off, Sabrina’s eyes flicked up again. Mr. Mystery had his back to her, but it didn’t seem to matter much. She still felt like a kettle coming to a boil. Any minute now she was going to burst out of her chair like a jack-in-the-box and make an embarrassing spectacle of herself in front of him and his horrifyingly beautiful girlfriend.

That woman was a nightmare. No one looked that perfect without surgery. Who was she, anyway? She was probably someone famous, maybe even a Victoria’s Secret model or something. Bet she binged and purged to keep that figure of hers. Well, she’d be sorry when she lost her teeth and her health, though it would serve her right for being so superficial and self-obsessed. How could he stomach a woman like that?

He was a chump, that’s how. All men were chumps. They all fell for pretty faces and perfect bodies, completely ignoring the obvious boob jobs, dental work, dyed hair, and fake tans. The shallow asshole deserved to have his heart punctured by her fancy four-inch heels for being a complete chump. She had no sympathy for his type—none whatsoever.

****

Aaron took out his camera, tugging Sabrina’s attention back again, to show off the picture of his daughter Emma. She was modeling her new Brownie uniform proudly.

“Oh, she’s so cute,” Toni crooned to her husband. “Honey, I want a girl next.”

Their son Kipp was twelve and an only child. Everyone used to wonder if they would ever have a second, but as the years passed it didn’t look like it. Her announcement took everyone by surprise. Oblivious to the raised eyebrows pointed her way, Toni handed the camera over to Sabrina.

However, Toni’s husband Andy was watching her with a curious smile. He leaned over and said suggestively, “Well, I guess we better get on it, then.”

The sexual innuendo sent Sabrina into a full-body shudder. Eeeew! How was she supposed to expunge that from her brain? She glanced at her brother in revulsion, then turned back to the camera.

Emma, her little niece, looked so much like Sabrina it was uncanny. The only apparent differences were the length of Emma’s shorter pigtails and the updated Brownie uniform.

Sabrina was crazy about the kid. Aunts weren’t supposed to have favorites, but they did. Emma was the only girl in the family, and having been in the same boat herself, it was only natural that Sabrina felt a true affinity for the child. Maybe once she got settled in her new apartment she would invite Emma over more often. She was old enough now to enjoy a sleepover with her auntie. They could do girly things like fix their hair, paint their nails, and make cookies, then watch cartoons until they fell asleep in front of the television.

Sabrina handed back the camera and smiled sadly. Work had been so consuming lately, as she tried to beat back the stink of a hot spot in decline, that it took Sabrina by surprise to realize just how much she missed seeing her family. Of course it wasn’t her fault any more than it was the restaurant’s fault. Nickelby’s just happened to be the latest craze, so the buzz was to be expected. What she didn’t want to see was a continued loss of revenue once the competition’s novelty wore off. Oasis deserved to be at the top, and she was putting all her energy into keeping it there.

****

Jackson pulled up outside the Marriott and handed off his rental car to the valet. Offering his arm to Genevieve, he escorted her into the lounge, where they claimed a quiet booth away from the piano.

“You know,” Gen said, her eyes sparkling from the light of their flickering candle, “I didn’t expect to like the area so much. Simon hounded me for so long to come out for a visit, but I just kept putting it off.”

“What made you finally change your mind?” asked Jackson.

“Curiosity? Timing? I don’t know exactly.”

Jack smiled. “And you found you liked it.”

“Amazing, I know,” she said, laughing at the absurdity of it all. “I’m a Big Apple girl. I couldn’t live anywhere else, but this isn’t bad. You’ve got some excellent galleries, world class theater and music, with only half the pretension.”

Jackson laughed at that. “Half the pretension?”

“We’ve had more time to perfect it.”

He granted her that and finished his drink.

Genevieve contemplated his handsome face across the intimate table and smiled. “I have an early flight out tomorrow.”

“Come on,” he said standing up. He held out his hand and drew her to her feet. They walked across the lobby to the elevators together.

Genevieve stopped just shy of the doors. “Nightcap? I have a very nice mini-bar in my room, or we could order up a bottle of wine instead.”

Jackson smiled and hooked the graceful fingers curled around his lapel and brought them to his lips. He kissed her knuckles softly. “As tempting as that sounds, I’m not a one-night-stand kind of guy, and I know you’re not a one-night-stand kind of woman.”

He shook his head as her face fell with disappointment. “Don’t worry,” he whispered. “We just had three incredible hours together, and you dazzled me. I don’t want to tarnish that memory or change the way I see you right now.”

She stared at him in wonder. “You’re really turning me down.”

“Believe me, it’s not the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

“My brother was right. You are a nice guy.”

She laughed at the irony. She hadn’t wanted anyone this badly since before her divorce. She longed for the chance to explore what an attentive and considerate lover would have been like for a change, but that wasn’t going to happen tonight.

Jackson kissed her on the forehead, then eased back slowly and opened his eyes. They squeezed hands.

“If I ever make it back this way, can I look you up?” she asked.

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

She gave him a swift smile and a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for a lovely night, Jackson.”

“Thank you.” He smiled and waited as she stepped into the elevator.

Giving him a last graceful wave, Genevieve winked out of his life.

****

Jackson paced at the curb while the valet went for his car.

He’d turned her down. He shook his head. A beautiful, appealing goddess, and he turned her down. What the hell was wrong with him? He didn’t even really kiss her. He’d never have another opportunity to enjoy a woman like that—they came around once in a lifetime if you were lucky—and still he walked away.

His car stopped in front of him, and Jackson exchanged places with the driver, flipping him a tip as he climbed in. Releasing the parking brake, Jackson let up the clutch and shot forward with barely a whisper.

Incredible. He continued with his train of thought. He thoroughly enjoyed Genevieve’s company tonight, and looking at her was an absolute pleasure. What was wrong with him? Why did his body refuse to cooperate? How could a woman like that fail to arouse him?

He turned the car at his building’s parking garage and keyed himself through the security gate.

Minutes later, stepping off the elevators, Jackson headed down the silent hall and entered his apartment. He left the lights off and walked slowly over to the wall of windows overlooking the illuminated city. He loved this view. Looking across the dark river, he found the roof of the Marriott. Somewhere in that hotel was a warm, alluring woman who had asked him to hold her tonight—and he passed. It was incomprehensible that even picturing her naked in her bed still left him unmoved.

Jackson loosened his tie and reached for a lamp, turning it on and shutting off the living picture of the city behind the glass.

****

When the alarm went off at five a.m., Jackson was lying in the center of his massive queen bed curled around a long cushy body pillow covered in soft Egyptian cotton. He rolled to his back and reached for the clock, then turned on the lamp. With a deep yawn, he scratched between his legs, then tucked back his morning wood, but the dark blue silk boxers weren’t up to the challenge and it popped back out again. Giving up, he rubbed his eyes and got up, plodding into the bathroom. He emerged a few minutes later dressed in shorts and a loose cotton T-shirt with KBHY Television stamped over the left breast.

He wandered into the smaller bedroom and turned on the recessed lights, dimming them. Picking up the remote, he aimed it at the flat-screen television, turning on a satellite music channel. Sound pumped out of the speakers embedded around the room. He set the remote back down and walked silently over to the Bowflex and straddled the bench.

****

Jackson was just hitting his fourth mile on the treadmill when the first rays of the morning sun began to light up the skyline. As he pressed on, he could actually see the tilt of light as it spread downward, illuminating the eastern sides of the buildings like a curtain of oil flowing to the ground.

He cut the power and came to a slow walking stop. Stepping to the floor, he snatched the remote and fired it over his shoulder, shutting off the television. The lights went out behind him and the timer on the coffeepot in the kitchen went on.

In the master bath, Jackson’s reflection shimmered back at him from the glossy black marble walls as he rolled off his sweat-soaked clothing. He shook it out one piece at a time and draped each article over the edge of the two-person Jacuzzi, then stepped into the spacious glassed-in shower. Jackson closed his eyes and inhaled the steam, moaning audibly as the pounding water hit him from every angle, crown to buttocks.

****

Sabrina slept peacefully on her left side, her face mashed into her pillow. Her full-sized mattress was no frills, not even a headboard, and the only deep pocket it had was the one in the very middle that always managed to pull her in like quicksand. Two mismatched dressers adorned one wall. The one not painted was missing a triangle of veneer on the right corner, exposing the particleboard underneath.

At six twenty-seven a.m. she bolted up and hit her alarm clock before it went off. She hadn’t actually needed it since the first week she moved here, though she continued to set it, just in case.

She trudged bleary-eyed into the compact bathroom and turned on the crusty showerhead. Only half the lime-caked holes managed to jet water, and two of those spouted water at the dull tiles or onto the spotty shower curtain. She fiddled with it, trying to direct what she could at herself, then gave up as an errant stream nailed the ceiling. She didn’t have time for this.

Conscious of the clock ticking, she shampooed rapidly, cursing and jerking her elbow away from the clinging shower curtain that wanted nothing better than to adhere to her body. Sabrina never dared the full lather, rinse, and repeat directive after Mrs. Starkey blew a gasket her first morning in this apartment. Apparently she’d taken a nine-minute shower. “Nine minutes!” Mrs. Starkey had screamed at her.

Sabrina shut off the water as the last of the soap was still running down her feet and listened intently. Whew. No sound coming from downstairs. Mrs. Starkey must be satisfied Sabrina had managed to keep her shower under the time limit this morning.

Wrapping her hair in a thin cotton towel, Sabrina stepped out and filled the sink, pulling a fresh razor out of the medicine cabinet along with her shaving cream. Sabrina set her foot on the toilet lid and tackled her legs.

****

Jackson roughed himself dry with a large plush towel. Wet combing his hair back with his fingers first, he wrapped the towel around his hips. The gentlest of efforts was all it took to get the upper drawer of the vanity rolling smoothly out. He grabbed his razor and changed the blade, then picked up the shaving cream. Moving to the sink on the left, he pulled up the drain stop and ran hot water into the basin. While it filled he applied the foam and peered at himself in the full mirror.

Using a fingertip, he cut across his lips, wiping them clear, then dipped his finger and swished it clean. Chin up, blade out, he drew the sharp edge across his softened skin.

****

Sabrina put her shaving things away and rose onto her tippy toes to look into the small, poorly hung medicine cabinet. Using her blow dryer, she styled what she could see and left the rest damp. Then it was on to make-up.

She stretched up until she saw three quarters of her face, but she couldn’t manage more than a quick glimpse of the bottom of her nose, and her lips were out of the question. Relaxing onto the balls of her feet, she applied her mascara carefully, knowing that if she leaned any closer to the mirror she’d lose height. She hated this bathroom.

****

With two newspapers tucked under his arm, Jackson strolled into his sleek kitchen looking perfect in his charcoal gray slacks, a Boss fitted dress shirt, and a coordinated emerald-green tie.

He stopped at the counter and reached up, taking a mug out of an upper cabinet. Pouring himself a cup of coffee, he replaced the pot and walked past the tall stools at the end of the counter to the table. Jackson settled in to catch up on the news.

****

Sabrina realized while she dressed that she’d forgotten to brew a pot of coffee again. Some resolution! Now she didn’t have time to wait for it even if she felt inclined. She’d have to stop off and pick something up on the way in to work.

Snagging the strap of her purse, she pulled it off the table and bolted for the door.

****

Tanya was helping Mario with an early delivery when Sabrina walked through the back of Oasis.

Looking up with a nod of greeting, she stacked another case onto the freezer shelf. “Hey, I’ll be right in as soon as we’re finished.”

“No rush.” Sabrina waved and headed for her office.

She put her purse aside and sat down, drawing the reports from yesterday toward her.

“Hmm,” she said, rummaging in the file cabinet behind her for last week’s totals.

Well, they were up, but not as much as she’d hoped. Still, she reminded herself, last night was their first Dating Game. It would take a little time for word to get around. This was a start.

Tanya stopped inside the door. “Knock-knock.”

“Come on in.”

She dropped into the vacant chair and smiled. “You missed a good time last night.”

“Did you see the totals?”

“Yeah, I peeked. Give it time to marinate, okay? People really got into it and had a blast. I know we’re going to see a big jump next week. I feel it.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to pull the plug this early. We’ll see how it plays out.”

“You have to be there next week. Nate was awesome. He’s going to deserve a raise if this goes where I think it’s going to go.”

“Those decisions aren’t up to me, but I’d be willing to go to bat for him.”

“So how was your little party?”

“Great,” said Sabrina a little too gaily.

Tanya arched her brow, her interest piqued. “And?”

“No ands.”

“Sure,” she said with a smirk.

Sabrina screwed up her face and said, “Fine, I can’t keep this in, anyway. You’ll never guess who was there.”

“Tiger Woods?”

Sabrina rolled her eyes. “No, Mr. Buns of Steel, with the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“Seriously?”

“I kid you not. If those two get together, they’ll put Brad and Angelina to shame. I can’t even imagine how gorgeous their kids would be.”

“Now I wish I’d gone with you, just to see it.” She leaned forward and asked slyly, “Did you get a picture of them?”

Sabrina gaped at her. “Are you nuts? It was bad enough I couldn’t stop gawking.”

“Well, you want him,” Tanya said simply.

“I hate him.”

“You want him.”

“Stop saying that.”

“I’m right.”

“You’re not.”

“Am so.”

“Get out of my office.”

****

Jackson stopped over at Bonnie’s desk. “Do you know where Lloyd is?”

“He went with Katie to cover the arena-funding panel. Should I get him for you?”

“No,” he said. “It wasn’t important. I just had a thought. It’ll keep.” He started to go but backed up. “And Ron is?”

“Accident on Guthrie involving a patrol car.”

“Justin go with him?”

“That’s my understanding.”

“Okay.”

Jackson’s phone rang as he wandered off. Slipping it out of his pocket, he glanced at the screen. “Mom, what’s up?”

“Are you very busy?”

“Not at the moment. Why?”

“Something under my hood was making a grinding noise, so I took it to Cars Plus on Lexington, and now I’m stuck here.”

“Don’t they have a loaner?”

“It’s already out.”

He sighed. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

****

Jackson checked his watch again as he followed his mom around the grocery store. A shopping basket hung off her arm.

“I don’t have time for this, Mom. There’s a lot to do before the broadcast.”

She sniffed at his obsession with the time. “Honestly, Jackson, I only need a few things. A couple extra minutes isn’t going to kill you. Why do you think I was out in the first place?”

****

Sabrina shuffled behind her shopping cart, her mind clearly on other things as she read over the note in her hand. She was unaware of the water dripping out the bottom of the large case of lettuce sitting askew in the basket. Not even the occasional slip of her foot through the tiny puddles she made troubled her.

“Band-Aids, something for burns, wooden matches, a few quarts of half-and-half to hold us until tomorrow,” she mumbled, slowly reading down the list.

She lowered the paper and set off purposefully. At the end of the aisle she turned the cart, taking the corner faster than advisable, and rammed the solid metal frame right into someone.

****

The flash of pain was instantaneous and Jackson’s ankle gave out. His body collapsed silently to the floor long before his brain caught up and he realized what the hell just hit him.

“Jackson!” His mother bent over him, eager to help, but the heavy basket with her half gallon of milk and pound of butter swung out and clocked him right in the head.

“Jesus, Mom!” He fell back, clutching his temple.

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry!”

What are the odds? Sabrina groaned. “I suppose you’re going to blame me for this too.”

Jackson’s arm shot out at her, the finger he pointed cocked and loaded. “Back off! Just stay away!”

His mother’s mouth dropped open. “Jackson!” She turned apologetically to Sabrina. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him. He’s not usually like this.”

Sabrina crossed her arms and returned his glare.

“You don’t understand,” he told his mom as he grunted onto his knees and tried to work his way back to his feet. His ankle was killing him. There was no way it was going to take his weight.

“Let me help,” said his mom, moving to support him.

He waved her back. “Not with your sciatica.”

Sabrina blew out an exasperated breath. “Oh, fine. Here.” She stomped over.

“Don’t touch me!” There was a hint of hysteria in his voice as he dragged himself out of her reach. “Please,” he said, more calmly this time. “I don’t want you to touch me.”

Sabrina rolled her eyes. “Fine. I was only trying to help, that’s all. What you need is something to lean on.” She looked at her cart and the wheels in her head were already spinning. “You know, if you leaned on my cart I could get you to the front of the store.”

It sounded like a practical solution, but Jackson knew already that nothing about this woman was ever that simple. Still he couldn’t stay on the floor, and he didn’t appreciate all the attention he was drawing, either.

Stifling his lingering misgivings, Jack relented. “Okay, but you stay at the back of the cart, and I’ll take the front.”

That arrangement suited Sabrina just fine.

Jackson got to one foot and hopped over. He regarded her warily, still not entirely comfortable with the plan. Finally he set his hand on the top of the basket. He took two deep steadying breaths before daring to lean on it. The cart instantly shot out and away from him, sending Jackson sprawling across the floor on his stomach.

Both women gasped and rushed to help, but he waved them back and rolled onto his seat. He stared up at Sabrina in disbelief.

She threw up her hands. “I wasn’t ready.”

He shook his head and started laughing at his foolishness. He should have expected something like this.

Jackson turned to his mother. “Mom, could you go find some help, a carry-out or something?”

“Sure, sweetheart. Stay right there.”

Jackson turned back to Sabrina. “You don’t happen to own a gun, do you?”

She looked at him strangely. “No, why do you ask?”

“I just want to know what I’m up against next, that’s all.”

As soon as his mother returned with a cavalry of two employees at her heels, Sabrina disappeared. Jackson wasn’t sorry to see her go.