Читать книгу We Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus - Бренда Новак - Страница 11

“WHO WAS THAT?” Rick asked, maneuvering around Cole to fit through the open doorway of the office.

Cole didn’t answer. He was too surprised and confused by what had just happened. He’d run into Jaclyn Wentworth for the first time in ten years just yesterday, and this morning she appeared out of nowhere to ask him for a job. Stranger still, she’d nearly broken down in tears when he told her he didn’t have anything.

What was going on? She couldn’t need work that badly. The Wentworths were very wealthy. She had to have received a large settlement from the divorce, and there was always child support. She and Terry had three kids together.

Anyway, she certainly didn’t look like she was hurting. That dress she’d been wearing was obviously expensive, and it fit her to perfection, hinting at feminine curves while revealing much of her long, long legs. Her thick russet hair was wound up into one of those sexy twists in back, and her light green eyes…God, those eyes. They were the prettiest he’d ever seen. He’d thought so in high school. He thought so now.

“Hello? Are you with me today, Cole?”

Jackie’s car had disappeared around a corner, and Cole finally tore his attention away from the road. He closed the door. “I’m here.”

“So what’s up?” His brother indicated Cole’s towel and grinned. “You have a guest last night? She must have been pretty good. You certainly stood in that doorway like a lovesick fool long enough. I guess that means things are really over between you and Laura, huh?”

Cole gave Rick a look designed to warn him away from the subject, but Rick only laughed.

“That evil-eye thing used to work when we were kids, but in case you’ve forgotten, I’m almost as big as you are now.”

“Ha! That evil-eye thing never worked on you,” Cole said. “You forced me to take you to the mat on everything. But you’re twenty-eight now, and not likely to get much bigger. I’ve still got you beat by a couple of inches, so you’d better watch yourself or I’ll whip your ass again.”

Rick angled himself into a chair and propped his feet on the desk. “Like that time when I was fourteen and I wrecked Dad’s truck?”

“I didn’t whip you for wrecking it,” Cole said. “I whipped you for stealing it.”

Rick shook his head and put his feet down. “Creepers, Cole. How’d you keep us all in line? We were somethin’, weren’t we.”

Cole laughed, because he could—now. The hard part was over. Despite his mother’s illness, their poverty and his father’s long hours in the mine, he’d kept his brothers safe. He’d seen to it that three out of the four of them—all except Rick—received a high-school diploma, that they learned the value of hard work, and that they stayed away from drugs and alcohol. As the oldest, he’d done his best by them, but he’d had to crack a few heads along the way, usually Rick’s.

“It wasn’t easy,” he admitted, rubbing his neck. “And you were the worst of the bunch.”

Rick started going through the papers on his desk; Cole took a moment to check the messages on the answering machine before heading back to dress for the day.

“Yeah, Andrew was the one you liked,” Rick said. “He was always your favorite.”

Cole shrugged. “He was the baby of the family and not likely to challenge me.”

“And look at him now. He’s going to college, just the way you told him to, right? Andrew’s still a good little boy.”

Cole noted the subtle change in Rick’s voice, but wasn’t exactly sure what to attribute it to. Was he jealous of Andrew’s opportunity? Cole couldn’t have afforded to put Rick through college seven years ago. He didn’t have a high-school diploma, anyway. Chad had also missed out on any higher learning, but the younger Perrinis were now at the University of Nevada in Las Vaegs. “You could go back and finish high school, if you want,” he said. “Then go on to college. Brian and Andrew would even let you room with them, if you hurry.”

Rick didn’t answer right away. He slammed one of the drawers in his desk and took a calculator out of another. “Maybe someday I’ll overcome my wild past and do just that.”

Cole grinned, pausing from his task of writing down the myriad messages he needed to return. “‘Wild past’ is right. Remember Mrs. Tiller? She invited us over for dinner, and you brought all those garter snakes in your pockets. I thought the poor woman was going to have a heart attack when one slithered past her plate.”

Rick shook his head. “How could I forget? You gave me a whippin’ the likes of which I’d never had before.”

“Hers was about the only good home cookin’ we ever got, besides what Granny Fanny gave us. And Mrs. Tiller never invited us back after that. I coulda killed you,” Cole said, but he felt a prick of conscience all the same. Had he been too hard on Rick? Is that what stood between them? If so, it hardly seemed fair. Cole had been young and desperate to keep them all from winding up in separate foster homes. Maybe he’d forced Rick to knuckle under one too many times—but Rick had been so difficult. Riding him hard was the only way Cole could keep him in line. “I didn’t pound on you because I liked it,” he added, more gruffly than he’d intended.

Rick shrugged. “Hell, no. I deserved it.”

For the first time in his life, Cole was tempted to share with him how heavy the load of raising his four brothers had been, how young and inexperienced he’d been at the time, how panicked. There were occasions he had gone without supper so his brothers could have more. Other days he took their turn sitting with Mom so they could get enough sleep to be ready for school. But Rick would never understand what life had been like for Cole. No one would ever understand. Which was why those years were better forgotten, along with Feld, the dusty little town where it had all happened.

“So, you gonna tell me about your lady friend?” Rick asked.

Cole ripped off the sheet of paper he’d been writing on and jammed the pen back into its holder. “She’s just someone who’s looking for a job.”

“She got her real-estate license?”

“No.”

“She a contractor, bricklayer, landscaper or roofer?”

“She look like a subcontractor to you?”

Rick chuckled. “Hardly.” He punched a few buttons on his calculator and scribbled something down. “She was mighty fine, though. What does she do?”

“She married out of high school. She’s recently divorced with three kids. I doubt she’s worked many places.”

“So did you give her the ‘boy, did you screw up not getting a college education’ speech?”

Cole chose to ignore Rick’s needling. Whatever his brother held against him, he couldn’t change the past. “I told her we don’t have anything except the sales position right now.”

“That’s true.”

Taking his messages with him, Cole headed down the hall. He needed to get dressed before anyone else arrived. “You think we could use some help here, around the office?” he asked, turning back.

Rick looked up. “Another salary wouldn’t translate well on the projected profit and loss statement we need to provide the bank for that new loan.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Forget it.”

Cole went to his room and dressed in a pair of jeans and a Perrini Homes T-shirt, then settled in his private office, where his primary tool was the telephone. Rick, with his natural talent for numbers, was the company controller and ran the front office, and Chad, as general contractor, handled most of the subs. But there were still a million details Cole felt more comfortable handling himself—like meeting with the county planners, coordinating inspections, dealing with the appraisers, signing the escrow papers when each house closed, approving new building plans and arranging financing for future projects. His days were long, but he loved his work. Nothing was more fulfilling than seeing a family pull into the driveway of a house he’d built, get out and water their flowers, or stand at the curb and talk to their neighbors.

But today Cole couldn’t seem to settle into his usual routine. In his mind’s eye, he kept seeing Jackie, the trembling of her lip, the proud tilt of her head, and knew he couldn’t ignore whatever it was that was wrong.

Finally he picked up the phone and called information. They had no listing for Jaclyn Wentworth, but they had a J. Wentworth. He jotted down the number and dialed it. An answering machine picked up, and a child’s voice told him to leave his name and number.

He hung up and grabbed his keys. It was time to return to Joanna’s Restaurant.

COLE DOUBLE-CHECKED the address the waitress at Joanna’s had given him, pulled to the side of the road and sat staring at Jaclyn’s small house.

Damn. He’d had to go back to Joanna’s, hadn’t he. He just couldn’t leave well enough alone. And now he knew Jaclyn had been fired and that she’d needed the job she’d asked him for, a whole lot more than she’d let on. Which left him with a decision. He could involve himself further and try to help her, or he could turn around and drive away.

His better judgment urged him to drive away. Jackie’s problems weren’t his problems. Lord knows, he’d had a hard enough time pulling himself and his brothers out of Feld, keeping food on the table, supporting his parents until they passed away and trying to build a new life and a business here in Reno. The last thing he needed was to take on more dead weight. It wasn’t as if he had money running out of his ears. Perrini Homes was dangerously over-leveraged. If Oak Ranch didn’t sell well, he could lose everything.

But Jaclyn’s getting fired had come on the heels of his interference with that jerk who wouldn’t pay his check yesterday, and he feared he might have cost her her job. Beyond that, he’d once been where she was right now—desperate, alone and new in town.

With a heavy sigh, Cole cut the engine and strode to the house. At his knock, the porch light came on. Jaclyn cracked open the door, then stepped back and swung it wide when she recognized him.

“Cole. How did you—”

“Hi,” he said. “Looks like I’ve found the right place.”

“How did you get my address?”

“Maddy at Joanna’s gave it to me.”

“You went back to Joanna’s?”

“Yeah, I was looking for you.”

“Oh.”

“Can I come in?”

She hesitated, seeming embarrassed, but finally motioned him inside. “Of course. I was just doing some housecleaning. The kids are with Terry for a few days, so I thought I’d get some things done around here.” She stripped off a pair of yellow rubber gloves. “Can I get you a drink?”

Her auburn hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she was wearing a simple tank top and denim shorts without shoes, but she looked even prettier than she had in her dress. Her firm, well-toned legs seemed to go on forever, and her skin, slightly damp with sweat, looked creamy and soft.

Cole tried not to notice that there was anything appealing about her. Jackie represented Feld and everything he’d escaped there.

“No thanks, I’m good,” he said, moving past her.

The house was filled with old mismatched furniture, but it was clean. And it smelled like Jaclyn, a little earthy and definitely feminine, despite the hint of Lysol coming from the gloves she’d cast aside. Whether or not he wanted to admit it, Cole liked the smell. It reminded him of meadows and brooks and warm summer days. But from the looks of things, Jaclyn hadn’t gotten a very big divorce settlement.

More bad news.

“You renting?” he asked.

She surprised him with a grin. “You think I’d buy this dump?”

“Beats a trailer.” He smiled back, remembering, in spite of himself, the first time he’d ever seen her. She’d been sitting in his English class at the beginning of his senior year, and just the sight of her had thrown his boyish heart into overdrive. She had to be the only girl who’d ever made his palms sweat. Of course, that was before he knew she was a cheerleader, vice-president of the Honor Society, and captain of the debate team—exactly the type of girl who would never be interested in a tough, poor boy who missed as many days of school as he attended.

For a moment, the memories of Feld threatened to swallow him up again, but he focused on what Jaclyn was saying and pushed them aside.

“I wanted the kids to have somewhere to ride their bikes and set up a lemonade stand and run through the sprinklers,” she said. “The neighborhood’s not as bad as it looks, really. Mostly old folks on a pension.” She sank into a seat across from him. “Of course, my three kids spice things up a bit.”

“I bet.” Cole noted that most of the pictures on the walls were crayon drawings, and wondered what Jaclyn’s kids were like. After raising his brothers, he swore he’d never have any children of his own. He’d had enough of that kind of responsibility. But he’d bet Jaclyn’s were cuter than most. Not that he wanted to meet them. He planned to offer Jaclyn the money she needed to get on her feet, and move on.

He cleared his throat. “I guess you know why I’m here.”

She stared down at the threadbare carpet. “You found out I was fired yesterday.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you didn’t need to come.”

She smiled, making another valiant effort to act as if she was fine, but Cole noticed how her hands fisted in her lap.

“Now that I’m on my own, I’d better get used to the ups and downs of it, don’t you think?”

“How bad are things?” he asked, cutting to the chase.

Her eyes widened in surprise. “They’re fine. I’m fine—”

“Jackie, I didn’t come here for more of your stiff-upper-lip routine. I’m willing to help you, but I can’t do that unless I know what you need.”

“What I need?” She laughed, but there was no humor in it. “I need to go back twelve years, get a college education and not marry Terry. That’s what I need.” She paused. “You once warned me against doing exactly what I did. Do you remember?”

He remembered. He also remembered he’d warned her against Terry because he wanted her himself. He’d had plenty of girls following him home from school and coming on to him at dances, and Rochelle calling him night and day, but Jaclyn was the one he’d dreamed about. “I was just a dumb kid. I don’t know why I said what I did,” he lied.

She folded her arms and leaned back. “Still, I wish I’d listened. Except, my children are great. I don’t regret them.”

The telephone rang, and she put up a hand to indicate she’d be right back. She carried the cordless phone into the kitchen to talk, but Cole could easily hear her, even though he stood and tried to amuse himself by figuring out what the pictures on her walls were supposed to be.

“What do you want now?…No, I didn’t say that. I said she’d have to have her birthday party here…That place is too expensive, Terry, you know it is…Why do you always have to ruin everything for me?…Listen, I can’t talk about this now because someone’s here…Cole Perrini. You remember him, don’t you? We went to school with him…What…?

She lowered her voice until Cole could barely hear her, but now that he’d heard his name, he strained to catch the rest.

“I can’t believe you just said that. We’re not doing anything. You have no right to even ask me that! Cole and I have never so much as kissed…Are the kids there? Did you just say that in front of Alex?…Forget it. I’m hanging up, Terry…”

Finally, in one frustrated-sounding burst, she said, “Well, he wouldn’t have to be very good to be better than you.” Then she hung up, leaving Cole wondering what he wouldn’t have to be very good at. On the heels of her previous words, his imagination certainly presented some interesting possibilities. But they were possibilities he refused to entertain, because he knew that anything physical with Jackie would come at a price higher than he was willing to pay. He’d already raised all the kids he was going to raise. He wouldn’t go through that hell again. And he’d already learned that marriage didn’t suit him, either.

“Sorry about that,” she said, returning.

“No problem. I’ve got to get going, anyway.” He stood and opened his mouth to offer her the money he’d intended to give. He wanted to write her a check and be on his way. He didn’t want to look back. But deep down he knew it couldn’t be that easy. A woman with Jackie’s pride wouldn’t accept charity. So he did exactly what he’d promised himself he wouldn’t do, and offered her the job she’d asked for, instead.

“I thought you didn’t have anything,” she said.

“Well, it won’t be much to start with. You’ll just have to fill in wherever we need you, and eventually we’ll get you into the sales end of things. Once you get your license and some training, you can work anywhere.”

Scowling, she said, “Cole, don’t do this if—”

“Everyone needs a little help sooner or later, Jackie. When I came to Reno, there was a man who helped me get my start in real estate.” His mentor. The one person who’d buoyed him up when he thought he’d drowned in responsibility. “I’m just passing on the favor. Besides, this isn’t a handout. You’ll work for your money. The position pays twenty-five hundred a month plus benefits. Can you get by on that?”

She nodded eagerly. “When do you want me to start?”

“Tomorrow, if you can.”

A smile curved her lips. With hair falling from her ponytail in wispy strands, and hope and relief lighting her eyes, she looked incredibly attractive. She sure hadn’t changed much since high school. Deep down Cole feared neither of them had changed enough. She no longer made his palms sweat, but she did strange things to his chest and caused a strong response in regions a little lower.

“I’ll be there,” she promised, then surprised him by standing on tiptoe to give him a quick hug. “Thanks, Cole. I’ll do a good job for you,” she murmured.

At least, that was what he thought she said. All he knew was that suddenly his nostrils were full of the scent of her, and his arms were full of the feel of her, and he could no longer regret hiring her.

He even thought about giving her a raise.