Escalation Clause (18 page)

Chapter Twelve

Sara handed Lila another tissue, but her own eyes stayed dry. Observing the slow dissolution of her brother’s remaining family hurt, but pretty much everything hurt these days.

It was just, as they say, one more thing.

She patted the woman’s shaking shoulders, listened to her rant about Rob. But she hardly heard anything. The bubble wrap that seemed to encase her had not loosened as she hoped and prayed it would. And after a year, the wall between her and Jack approached Chinese construction standards. She watched, numb, while Katie and Maddie rolled around on the floor with their little brothers.

“Sara,” Lila said.

She turned her head slowly, noted she was late for work . “Yeah, sorry.” She tried a smile, but the other woman’s face remained frowning.

“Are you okay?” Lila’s black hair was shorter these days, and framed her heart-shaped face. Sara tried to focus on anything beyond that. Katie yelled when one of the little boys bopped her on the head with a plastic toy. The dog barked, wanting food. Her head pounded, throat ached with unshed tears. People needed her. She rose, pressed her skirt down.

“Yes, no, who knows. But I am late for work. Will you be all right here with all this chaos?” She pointed to the kids on the floor. “The nanny will be here at noon. Jack was supposed to be home already.” she looked up, confused when she heard the door open, and the clink of keys, watch and fountain pen being deposited in their appointed spaces on the table by the front door. “He flew in on the red eye from the west coast last night,” Sara sat back down, suddenly exhausted and needing her husband’s arms around her more than her next meal.

Jack strolled in, still dressed in dark suit pants and a thoroughly travel-wrinkled white shirt. Her heart did its usual roll at the sight of him. But he didn’t look at her. More than once she’d demanded time to talk, requested his undivided attention for some serious conversation about his distance. He kept coming up with excuses to avoid her and given how chaotic their lives were with two kids, a dog and busy careers, excuses were easy to come by. So she had held back the one thing she knew he required, telling him flat out that she would not be sleeping with him until they cleared the air with a long talk. As a result, they had not had sex, or actually exchanged words beyond the necessary logistics of work and children for seven months.

Jack smiled down at Katie who’d latched onto him, kissed her and was staring down at the two little boys. Brandis was standing up holding onto the couch, a recent trick and one Sara had dreaded since it meant mobility for a kid who was never still anyway. He made his slow way to the edge of the leather ottoman glaring at Gabriel whose bright blond hair was back lit from the sun coming through the large window. They were in a mortal battle over a single dump truck and warfare was escalating fast. Brandis had already pushed Gabe down on his butt once, but the other boy quickly recovered. In a funny toddler attempt at diversion, he’d handed Brandis a matchbox car giving Gabe enough time to grab the obnoxiously orange truck and drop to his knees to make a swift crawling getaway. Since Brandis seemed stuck hanging onto the furniture, he wailed and threw the car, hitting his sister in the temple, then dropped to all fours and chased Gabe to the kitchen. Katie followed them. “Mom!” She yelled. “They’re feeding the dog Cheerios. That okay?”

When he heard Jack’s voice, the boy made a crawling beeline from the kitchen towards his father, and Gabe followed. He was already pretty steady on his feet, and kept the cheap plastic toy gripped to his chest as if it were the Hope diamond. The dog brought up the rear, lapping up the little round circles of processed sugar dropped in their wake.

“Hey sport,” Jack plucked his son from the floor, kissed him then did a double take when he saw the other boy. “Well hello there. Little Rob. Wow.”

Sara watched the scene unfold, silent. Since Brandis had such a raging temper he was usually screaming about something or throwing things or in his crib for a time out, which meant Jack could ignore him, leaving the discipline to her. Gabe stared up at Jack, thumb in his mouth, the truck still clutched tight.

“Pa!” Brandis glared at his father. “Mine.” He pointed down at Gabe. Brandis had developed clear speech patterns early and was on the verge of walking at a year as well. The kid was an eerie mirror image of the man holding him, Sara observed for the thousandth time. Jack bent down and put Brandis on the floor. The boy lunged for the truck but his father held him back.

“No. Share,” he said, reaching over and snagging one of the toys scattered around the room. “Yours.” He pressed an identical cheap blue dump truck to Brandis’ small chest. The boy’s face lit up with joy and he dropped to all fours and rolled the thing back to the kitchen with Gabe tottering along behind, so they could resume kitchen demolition by cereal. The eager dog scampered after them.

“Lila,” Jack gave her a hug, kissed her hair. “Welcome. To what do we owe the honor?”

Sara flinched when he walked by her without a word or a touch before dropping into his large leather chair.
Boy, you have really dug yourself a hole this time haven’t you? Just the sight of him makes you want to drag him to the bedroom and jump him, if for no other reason than to maintain some kind of connection.
But she steeled herself. While he claimed she was “projecting” she knew he was full of shit. She was right. She loved him but she would not put up with being ignored.

“Lila, Maddie and Gabe need a place to stay,” she said, flatly, staring at him. Rob was his friend. Let him do the math.

He raised an eyebrow and shot her look full of…nothing. She stood. “I’m late for a meeting. I’ll have something sorted out for you by the end of the day,” She said as she hugged Lila, Maddie and Katie, then walked by her husband. He grabbed her hand, sending a spark of lust from their point of contact up her spine.

“We need to talk,” he said, looking up at her with their son’s deep blue eyes. The eyes that had seen her, pinned her, held her, left her and returned. For a split second she saw him—the man she married. Heard his words when they had stood apart from the wedding party, forehead-to-forehead, arms around each other’s waists and she had told him she was pregnant with Brandis.
“I love you so much, it still scares me, Sara. But I can’t live without you, I won’t. I’ll do everything I know how to make you happy.”

She swallowed, resisted the knee-jerk urge to yank her hand out of his. But the simple touch was making her weepy and weak kneed. “Yes, we do. But I have to go.” She leaned down, pressed her lips to his cheek. He closed his eyes and she saw him shift in his chair. A spark so bright she was surprised Lila didn’t see and comment on it passed from her lips to his skin. But she stood, straightened her skirt. He didn’t let go of her hand. “Jack,” she said, loving the feel of his name on her lips not in anger for a change.

This time his face showed her one thing as clear as day—and she was certain hers matched it. Raw need was etched in every plane and angle. She gulped, embarrassed that he could dampen her panties with just a look. He pulled her close, put his other hand to her face and whispered, tickling her ear and making her shiver. “I need your opinion on something. Can you meet me today? Around four? I have to see the money guys in Detroit for lunch. Then I’m free.” He brushed his lips along the curve of her jaw.

“Cut it out,” she said, eyes closed, loving it. But her knees no longer held her so she perched on the edge of the chair arm.

“Four p.m. The spec house in Barton Hills.”

She rose, staring at him. Every nerve ending was on alert. She’d not gone this long without sex in…well since she’d been pregnant with Katie and just after, while they were still dancing around their relationship. The flame he always managed to ignite in her, be it one of lust, happiness or fury burned bright on all fronts. “Why?” She croaked out. “It’s almost done isn’t it? Mo’s done a great job bringing it in on time and budget. I thought you had it sold.”

“Not yet,” he ran his fingers up her arm. “Buyer walked. But I have a couple of others interested. I want you to look at the kitchen stuff, help me choose since I can’t get either of the decision-making disabled couples to make an offer.”

“Uh…sure.” She stood, wobbly, and on the verge of jumping him in front of the kids and her friend. She looked over her shoulder. Lila had guided everybody into the kitchen, and it sounded like they were making pancakes. She looked down at her husband. “What is this about Jack? Talk? Or Fucking? Because you know what I—”

He grabbed her hand and put it on his zipper. She bit her lip at the familiar hard girth of his sex. “Both.” He said, cupping her neck and tugging her close. The kiss was just a ghost of one, nothing like he normally gave. However, having gone without any of it for so long, it felt like the most intimate connection they’d ever made. He ran his thumb over her lips.

“I have a meeting.” She exhaled. It was the truth.

“Cancel it,” his voice was low.

She stood, shook her hair back. “As long as you are prepared to really talk to me.” She crossed her arms, mainly so he would not see how shaky she was.

“I am.” He got to his feet, stood within centimeters of her, but didn’t touch her. The chemistry of their long-running relationship filled the air, making her breathless. She reached out first, put a hand to his rough cheek. His eyes stayed flat, but then he smiled. “I promise, I will.” He kissed her for real then, holding her close, cupping her breast under the silk blouse, shoving a thigh between her legs. It was amazing, erotic, and then, it was over. He let her go, and walked to the bedroom. She clutched the back of the couch to keep from falling straight to the hardwood floor. When she heard the shower start, she grabbed her purse and phone.

Lila stuck her head around the corner of the large galley-style kitchen. “You okay?” she asked.

Sara ran a shaky hand down her hair. “Uh, no. But you know…men.” She shrugged, unwilling to let on how conflicted she was. Even as close as she had become with Lila since the woman had joined Sara’s family, she still kept most of her personal frustrations private. In another life, with other circumstances she would be talking to Blake about this. But of course, she couldn’t. She stood a few more seconds, listening to the sounds of her household—the shower running, the kids laughing, the dog barking at nothing. A thrill of fear lit her brain. She had to make Jack talk. They’d been through too much to give up now.

She took a deep breath. There were untold crises she had facing her at work and she needed to get to them. “Call me if anyone bleeds too profusely.” Katie ran up and gave her a hug. Brandis hollered “Ma!” So, she picked him up and kissed his already dirty face. “Down!” He demanded, and he was off like a shot, first trying to walk then giving up when crawling proved more efficient.

The day stretched out as slow as elementary school, the clock seeming to move backwards more than once. The downtown Stewart Realty office felt chaotic, but she knew all was well. The seller’s market had returned with a vengeance that spring. But she and Jack had decided not to let go of their own investment properties—four rental houses near Michigan’s central campus, a small apartment building and a block of mixed retail and commercial he had developed a few years previously, plus the building that housed The Local and a few law offices at the intersection of Liberty and Division. They’d also held onto the penthouse condo in the building he’d developed during that insane year they’d first met. The boom felt false to her, rushed and crazy. But she encouraged her agents to dive in and take full advantage. To not let buyers drag their feet like they used to do when she was still selling.

“Pam!” She yelled for her assistant. “I still need BPOs for those houses in the township. Oh, and tell Allen and Drew I gotta change our four o’clock.” She glanced at her watch; the classy, subtle Patek Phillipe Jack had given her several years earlier. “See if they can meet now. I have an hour.” She sat, dashed off a few emails, sifted through a stack of bullshit on a large deal quickly going sour for one of her rookie agents. She smiled at the two men when they appeared in her door. Allen David was a super hotshot salesman, had been for years, but with another brokerage. She’d lured him away the year before, promising private office suites, room for his huge staff of assistants, and the prestige of being affiliated with the largest and most successful regional real estate office around. It took him a month to disentangle from his former broker but since he’d been on board, her numbers had doubled, and he’d added a distinct edge of humor and fun to the office.