Begin Again: Short stories from the heart (5 page)

Jack shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at her. “Sorry, but I prefer to choose my own bride. And though it’s been fun”—he shot a long glance toward the empty spot on the sofa—“I won’t marry you. Not even for good old Uncle Richard.”

He turned and began walking away, out of her apartment, out of her life. “I love you,” she said softly as the pain of loss seeped through her.

Jack paused but didn’t turn around. “Did Uncle Richard tell you to say that, too?” Then he opened the door and was gone.

***

Jack arrived at Richard
Deeling’s
doorstep the next morning, resignation in hand. Damn those two for trying to manipulate him. And hadn’t Samantha Whitcomb been a willing little accomplice with her breathy sighs and sexy body? The thought of how he’d been played sickened him. Who knew how far things would have gone before he figured out the truth? He was damn lucky Richard called when he did or Jack would be regretting a lot more than being duped.

“I went too far this time and for that I apologize.” Richard
Deeling
lifted his coffee cup and studied Jack. “You remind me so much of myself at your age. By God, I just wanted to turn the company over to someone with backbone who would do the right thing and carry on the company name with quality and dignity.” He sighed. “I really am sorry. I had no business meddling.”

“I’m sure you weren’t the only one involved in this little scheme.” Jack refused to say
her
name as though not saying it would erase her from his memory.

Richard looked genuinely startled. “Are you referring to Sam?”

“You had help with this, Richard. Just admit it.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t. I swear to you on the company’s name that she knew nothing about my plan. She came to me after the night at the club and begged me to stop playing matchmaker. She said you weren’t the kind of man to be toyed with.” He sighed. “This was my doing.
All of it.
Even poor Eugenia doesn’t know I’ve been plotting to get you and Sam together. She won’t be happy when she finds out and eventually, she will.”

“I’m not going to tell her,” Jack said, wishing he could put the whole thing behind him and forget about it.

“Of course you won’t tell her, but I will. That’s one thing you learn early on in a marriage. Be truthful, no matter how bad it is because when the other person finds out, and they always do, it’s a thousand times worse.” He sighed again. “I really thought you and Sam would be sending us a wedding invitation, but I was wrong.”

A wedding invitation.
Jack coughed.
Twice.
Richard sure as hell
was
wrong.

“Jack, I’d like you to stay and finish your project and then we’ll talk about a promotion to president. Without marriage,” Richard added.

Jack hesitated a moment. He didn’t want to be the one to ask but he had to. “What about Sam?”

Richard blinked a few times then shook his head. “Sam’s gone. The project is yours.”

“Gone?”

“She headed back to New York this morning. I’m sure going to miss having her around.”

Jack nodded. She was gone. He should be elated. This was what he wanted, his project back, free reign,
a
new title. It was all there, all his for the taking, exactly as he wanted it.

But somehow it felt like an empty victory, one he refused to think about.

***

Three months later, Jack finished the project, two months ahead of schedule. He poured himself into the task, working late every night, sleeping little or not at all and eating only an occasional meal for sustenance.

But the dream was a reality.
Finally.
Thousands of people flowed through the museum doors in the three weeks since the grand opening. City projections showed the museum would serve as a great draw for the influx of tourists and suburban dwellers. Jack hoped it would be only the beginning of Cleveland’s rebirth.

He sat back in his chair and smiled. Soon he’d be moving to another, much larger office. Richard
Deeling
had announced his partial retirement and named Jack the new president of
Deeling
& Associates. And he hadn’t even had to marry to get the title.

Unbidden, unwanted, the image of Sam floated to him, wrapping itself around him, tighter and tighter,
the
vision so real he could almost touch her, smell her, taste her.

His smile vanished as he thought of her. He’d long since regretted his rash behavior and the cruel things he’d said, but pride and hurt kept him from contacting her.
And something else.
The knowledge he could be so weak, and she could still affect him, even after all this time. He remembered the last words she spoke to him.
I love you
. Had she meant it? Did he care?

He’d walked out on her and the next morning she was gone. He should be grateful she wasn’t still around to torment him. Jack opened his desk drawer and whipped out his darts.
Wham!
Why the hell wouldn’t she just go away? She haunted him as he remembered her with tears in her eyes, begging him to understand.

Had he been wrong about her? That thought plagued him daily but he had no answers. He told himself she’d deceived him, probably manufactured her feelings to please her uncle. He could never trust her let alone marry her. He wasn’t marrying anybody. He’d been more physically involved with women before but none of them had ever branded him the way this one had. Why? Was it because he’d believed she’d played him?

Wham!
The dart landed dead center, crowding out the others on the board. He wished he didn’t have to go to Richard’s retirement party tomorrow. He wasn’t in the mood to socialize, hadn’t been for months.
Three to be exact.

But Eugenia wouldn’t let up, insisting Jack must attend, until finally he’d relented and agreed to make an appearance.
A very short appearance.
Richard had been quiet, not participating in his wife’s demand that Jack attend the party. Apparently, he still hadn’t told Eugenia about his failed matchmaking attempt.

It was just as well. Jack didn’t want her eyeing him with sympathy or worse, pity. Nor did he want her trying to play the savior and attempt to patch things up with Sam.

There was no patching up to be done. You couldn’t patch a crater and that’s how large the hole was in Jack’s heart. Pain seeped through his brain in dribbles at the thought of her. She’d lied to him. Sure, she hadn’t come right out and denied anything, but by not telling him she was Richard’s niece, she’d lied. He’d almost let himself care about her and just when he’d realized he wanted her, needed her even, he’d discovered the truth.

And now he had an even bigger problem which lurked in the shadows, jabbing at him for the tenth time that day. Would
she
be there? Would Sam risk running into him?
Of course not.
She was probably living it up in the Big Apple, having long since forgotten him.

He cursed and wished he could say the same.

***

An hour after he
arrived
Jack was ready to leave. From the moment he’d stepped onto the marble foyer of the
Deeling’s
residence, he’d been the center of attention. Everyone wanted to see or talk to the new president of
Deeling
& Associates and Richard seemed quite content to let the crowds swarm around his successor.

Jack smiled, shook hands, exchanged pleasantries, shook more hands and smiled some more. He even managed to grab a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. But now he needed a break before the walls crashed in on him, one pasted smile at a time.

Spotting a French door several feet away, Jack worked his way to it and sneaked onto the veranda. Thank God for summer heat and air conditioning. No one wanted to see him badly enough to leave the comfort of cool air.
Alone at last.
He looked around for shade and decided on a huge, old oak tree.

Then he saw her.

She stood in the distance, looking toward the blue horizon.
Alone.
Somehow it wasn’t how he had pictured her. He walked toward her, stopping a few feet away.

“Hello, Sam.”

She stiffened but didn’t turn around. “Hello, Jack.”

“How’ve you been?” The question was so inadequate after all this time.

“Fine, thank you,” she said automatically. “And you?”

“Fine.”
He continued the urbane ridiculous pleasantries.
I’ve been dying inside since you left. Can’t you tell?

“Congratulations on your new position. You’ll do a great job.” The softness of her voice wrapped itself around him.

“It’s a great opportunity.”
Did you mean it when you said you loved me?

“And you didn’t have to marry the ice-princess after all.” Her laugh fell out short, stilted.

“Sam.” Jack reached for her, turned her toward him. Her face was wet with tears. “Don’t cry. Please, don’t cry,” he murmured as he bent to kiss away the tears.

His mouth covered hers, offering comfort and tenderness. Sam swayed toward him as he pulled her into his arms, deepening the kiss, trying to wipe away the pain and hurt between them.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured against her lips. “I was such a stubborn fool.” He pulled away slightly so he could look into her eyes. “I’ve been miserable with missing you, miserable with wanting you.” His voice was low, aching with need. “I love you. I have for a very long time. I was just too much of a fool to admit it, even to myself. Life’s been hell without you.”

Sam reached up to stroke his cheek. “I love you too, Jack. That’s why I had to leave.” A stray tear escaped, trickled down her cheek. “I didn’t want you to make a mockery of what I felt and I didn’t think you’d ever trust me.” Her lower lip trembled. “I thought leaving was the only way to save myself but I’ve been dying a little bit every day.”

Jack swiped the tear away. “I’m glad you came.”

“I had to,” she said simply. “I had to see you again and try to explain things.” She smiled. “I’ve been standing out here rehearsing my lines for over an hour and now I can’t even remember what they were.”

“You don’t need any lines with me.
Now or ever.”
He traced her lips with his index finger. “You know, I’m getting ready to work on this huge project, the most important of my life, and I think you’d be the perfect partner.” He reached for her hands, clasped them in his own. “All I need is a ‘yes.’”

“This project is more important than the museum?” Sam asked.

“Much more important.”

“Now you’ve really got me wondering. What is it?”

“My wife,” he said softly. “It’s a lifetime project, and you’re the only one who qualifies. Will you marry me, Sam?”

“Are you part of the compensation package?” She brushed a feather light kiss against his mouth.

“Absolutely.”
He sought her mouth and deepened the kiss.

“In that case,” she murmured against his lips, “how can a girl possibly refuse?”

The End

The Sweetest Deal
emerged from
Sam & Jack
.
A simple pure contemporary romance with a secret identity and a matchmaking family member.
Great fun.

The Sweetest Deal

Max Jernigan is ready to close the most important business deal of his life—all he has to do is agree to one request from Grayson Crowell: impregnate the mogul’s daughter. No way can Max do this. He’s a decent guy. But he would love a child. He just doesn’t want a wife.

C.C. Crowell gave up on dreams of a family after Mr. Worse-Than-Wrong broke her heart. Hiding behind spreadsheets, boring suits and an icy attitude, she’s more than a little suspicious when arrogant, handsome Max is suddenly chasing her. But she can’t deny their chemistry. Until she learns about the deal and plans to pay Max back in kind….

The Landlord
was one of my first attempts to write romance. The points of view are all over the place and were I to write this today, I would flesh out the characters, straighten up the points of view, and probably add a few hundred pages—I tend to be long-winded! Still, I like the possibilities in this story and wanted to share it.

“Damn. Damn. Damn!” Chunks of leaves, twigs, and other decomposing debris hurled to the ground with each curse. “If I ever get my hands on that landlord”—Natalie
Allington
spat out a piece of dirt—“he’ll rue the day he ever went into real estate!” She wiped her gloved hand across her sweaty forehead.
“Irresponsible, duty-shirking man.”
Natalie continued muttering various derogatory remarks concerning her landlord as she flung debris from the gutters onto the ground below.

Chase
Danning
advanced slowly up the driveway, intrigued with sight in front of him. He’d been watching the woman for several minutes now and was thoroughly enjoying the show. It wasn’t just the tanned long legs in cut-offs or the snug black tank top that held his interest—though he could certainly appreciate those qualities—as much as the one-sided verbal warfare she’d been waging with her landlord. He stepped onto the sidewalk leading to the front door, just a few feet behind the woman.