Jack & Jilted (15 page)

He noticed that when he said that last bit, she grimaced, wincing as if he’d cursed. “This isn’t about being screwed over,” she said after a long pause. “This is about…being compassionate.”

He sighed. “She signed a contract, she agreed to pay.”

“I signed contract, too,” she said quietly. “I agreed to pay for the wedding. I didn’t have anything in writing with the guy who was supposed to be my husband. And now here I am.”

He might’ve guessed this would circle back to Gerald the Butt head.

“Well, his loss is our gain,” Jose said, both gallant and philosophical.

She smiled at Jose wanly. “Thanks, Jose. But my point is, sometimes you’ve got to stick to your guns. But sometimes you’ve got to be compassionate. She’s not trying to screw you—or I should say, screw us. She’s just trying to get even with him and get some of her dignity back.”

Jack looked at Jose, who kept his face inscrutable. No help there.

“Well, I hate to be the one to say it,” Jack finally commented, “but I thought you needed the money. You know—mortgage payments?”

She pushed her eggs around her plate. “You don’t have to refund all the money. I mean, we did order food and supplies and things.”

He nodded.

“But…you could give her a refund.” She looked at him, and he suddenly felt two inches tall for being so insistent about the money side of things. “A partial refund. You could give her a break. That would help.”

“And how will you manage?” Jack asked.

“Our next charter ought to put me over the top,” she said. “Otherwise, I could just walk out today. I’ve got almost enough for the last payment.”

Jack felt his stomach clench, and it had nothing to do with the delicious eggs Chloe had prepared. “You mean, leave?”

“I’m not saying I will,” Chloe assured him, although her eyes looked troubled as she said it. “I’m just saying…I could.”

He sighed again, feeling his insides twist. He didn’t think Chloe was manipulating him. It wasn’t her style. But he did know that, while a part of him felt like a mustache-twirling villain for holding Mrs. Newcombe’s feet to the fire over the full cost of the cruise, he probably could’ve gone through with it. He needed the cash way more than the put-upon Mrs. N.

However, the thought of disappointing Chloe—and worse, losing Chloe—just didn’t make it worthwhile.

“I’ll talk to her,” he said. “I’m sure I can work something out.”

Chloe smiled gratefully, and he got that superhero feeling again, coupled with a sense of foolishness. He prayed he wasn’t being conned here.

“So you’re on for one more cruise, huh?” he said before he could help himself.

“I told you I needed time to think,” she reminded him, then seemed to remember that Jose was in the room and blushed.

Jose simply smiled at the two of them. “It’d be great if you could stay, Chloe.”

She grinned, then shifted the conversation to small talk. Jack just ate the rest of his breakfast in silence.

She was still thinking. So he was still in the running. And he had one more cruise to really figure out how to keep her there. More important, he would figure out why he wanted her to stay so badly. Because right now she was starting to wind him around her little finger, and he didn’t like that at all.

CHLOE FELT WEIRD BEING on land. After they’d successfully unloaded the Newcombes and Jack had evicted Inga, Chloe told him that she’d be going onshore. It had been too long since she’d seen her parents and she desperately needed to think.

What do you think about being partners?

The question both thrilled and unnerved her. Gerald had always treated her like…well, a secretary, but that was what she was. On paper, anyway. He’d appreciated everything that she’d done, without question. But equal partners? Even with everything she’d dealt with in the wedding and the research she’d done when they’d bought the house, he’d acted as if that was part of her job. As if marrying him itself was part of her job.

So how is that going to be different with Jack?

She pulled into her parents’ driveway feeling weary, both physically and mentally. The difference with Jack, she told herself, was that Jack wasn’t interested in marrying her. He was interested in having a business partner—and he was interested in having sex with her.

They were both intriguing offers, but together, she got the feeling they’d be disastrous.

She let herself in the front door and was instantly assailed with the scents of her old home—her mom was making a pot roast, which meant mashed potatoes and corn and carrots glazed in honey. She could hear the strains of Count Basie coming from upstairs somewhere, meaning her father was home, no doubt puttering away on the Internet. She smiled. It wasn’t exciting, but it was sort of nice to have a place to decompress.

“There you are!” Her mother bustled forward, giving her a big hug. “I thought we’d lost you to the sea! Honey, Chloe’s home!”

After a few minutes, her father came lumbering down the stairs. “There’s my girl,” he said, giving her a hug to match her mother’s.

“It’s good to be here,” Chloe said, feeling surprisingly emotional. She wasn’t crying, but she did feel choked up.

“Oh, you poor dear,” her mother said, instantly putting an arm around her shoulders and ushering her toward the kitchen. “Sit down. Can I make you some coffee? It’s all right, you’re home now.”

Chloe accepted a mug of decaf, sipping at it. This was home, of sorts, but she had to admit it wasn’t her home anymore.

“So what’s going on on that boat of yours?” her father said, sitting next to her at the kitchen table while her mother put finishing touches on the dinner.

“It’s been busy, but we’re doing a brisk business,” she said, filling him in on the charters she’d booked. “I’ve worked off my debt and then some, that’s for sure.” She set her jaw, feeling grim. “And I gave Gerald an ultimatum—the house needs to be sold in a month. I don’t care if it’s at a loss. I want out from under these payments and I want him to stop threatening me. We got a great deal on it, and from what I understand, the offers would be higher than what we paid for it. So there’s no reason for him to keep dragging his feet.”

Her mother snorted. “That man…”

“Now, now, dear,” her father interrupted. “The important part is, once the house is sold, you’ll be able to breathe easy for a little while.”

Chloe frowned. “I guess,” she said, trying to remember what “breathing easy” felt like. “There’s still a lot I’ll have to do….”

“But you won’t have to worry about money anymore for a while is what I mean.”

She laughed. “Well, I’ll need to eventually. I like eating.”

“Your mother and I can give you a roof over your head and three meals a day—and the occasional snack,” he said drily, winking at her. “The important part being, you’ll be able to quit this whole boat business.”

Chloe felt a pang. “Well, I suppose so.”

His eyes widened, his bushy eyebrows almost jumping to his receding hairline. “You suppose so? Good grief, sweetie, you look like a walking corpse!”

Chloe laughed. “Thanks, Dad.”

“You know what I mean,” he said gruffly, as her mother joined them at the table. “You’ve been working too hard.”

“I’ve been pushing it a little,” Chloe admitted. “Still, it’s not all bad. There are a lot of pluses.”

“Name one,” her mother challenged.

“I get to be out on the water,” Chloe said, feeling the hint of a smile dance around her lips. “It’s tough work sometimes, but the sensation of the open sea is really great. And I get to cook, which is more fun than I remembered.”

“You’re also cleaning,” her mother said. “You can’t tell me you find that fun.”

Chloe thought of her aching back. “No, you’ve got me there. But we might be able to hire a new maid.”

“I thought you said this guy was strapped for cash!” Her father sounded irate, as if Jack were somehow cheating her.

“Well, we fired the masseuse,” Chloe said, grimacing. Inga’s last few hours on board were not pleasant. Chloe had made sure that Inga didn’t do something retaliatory, like trashing all Chloe’s belongings before leaving. Inga hadn’t, though, although she’d had some loud and choice parting comments for the entire Rascal crew. It had been ugly. “Anyway, we’ll be better off with a cleaning person—massages weren’t going well as far as offering more value to the cruise. Fortunately, we haven’t changed the brochure yet. We’ll take them out.”

“We?” Her mother shook her head. “You’re identifying too much with this business. You used to do that with Gerald, too, remember?”

Chloe slumped. “This is…well, this could be different.”

Her father and mother exchanged worried glances. “Of course it could be,” her mother said, but her voice was filled with doubt.

“In fact,” Chloe said slowly, “he’s asking me if I want to go into partnership with him.”

Her parents fell silent in the face of this announcement.

“As in, you’d stay on the boat and work?” her father asked.

Chloe nodded. She hadn’t meant to tell them, but it was too prevalent in her mind. It had slipped out almost of its own accord.

“Doing what you’re doing now?” His eyebrows were practically knitting together, he was frowning so hard. “Working as hard as you’re working now?”

“But being a part of the business,” Chloe hastily assured them. “Which is more than I ever was with Gerald, really. Very different.”

“You’re not thinking of investing in this boat, are you?” her mother asked, aghast.

Chloe blinked. “Well, I don’t really have the money to invest, exactly….”

“So how would you be considered a partner?”

She hadn’t worked that detail out. And from the horrified looks on her parents’ faces, she got the feeling they weren’t going to be their usual problem-solving selves and help her find a way to cobble together a proposal for Jack. In fact, she got the feeling they’d already done their problem solving—to get her to come back home.

“I’m still ironing stuff out,” Chloe said. “In fact, I figured I’d think about it the next two days, here, before I’ve to go back.”

“Do you have to go back, though?” Her mother was gentle and yet relentless, like a mink-covered sledgehammer. “You’ve got the last mortgage payment, don’t you? And the house will be sold soon?”

“I need one more charter to cover the last payment,” Chloe said.

“So one more cruise and you’ll be out,” her father said.

“Unless I decide to become a partner.”

“Chloe, darling, you’re not thinking clearly,” her mother said, sounding agitated. “Why in the world would you want to become a partner on a cruising yacht?”

Chloe sighed. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“You’ll never make any real money that way,” her father said.

“I wasn’t making real money as a secretary, either,” Chloe said, feeling defensive. “This would be an opportunity to actually see the profits from a business I’m working so hard on.”

He looked at her mother, who picked up the ball. “Well, there are other issues. You won’t have benefits. You won’t have retirement. It’s all well and good to say this would be fun, but you’ve got to think about your future.”

Chloe pressed her lips together. She knew that they meant well and that they were worried. She was worried herself. That was why she’d come home to think about it. But the more they pressed, the less she wanted to listen to them, as much as she loved them. She was tired of doing the “right” thing. She wanted to…

She flinched, sitting upright in her chair.

I want to do something stupid and foolish.

She closed her eyes. God. The last time she’d said that was when she’d gotten together with Jack.

That didn’t turn out that badly.

Her parents didn’t notice—or if they did, they decided to ignore her expressions in favor of hammering home their point. “There is one other issue,” her mother said, clearing her throat. “Your love life.”

Chloe’s eyes flew wide-open. “I beg your pardon?”

“Your love life,” her mother repeated.

“Seeing as I don’t have one, I’m not all that worried about the repercussions of my business decisions,” Chloe said, laughing a nervously. Of course, it was her love life—or at least sex life—that was causing the main obstacle to her leaping right into the business. But she certainly did not want to discuss that with her parents.

“And you’re not going to have a love life if you’re on some small yacht with the same couple of men day in and day out,” her mother said, smiling as if she’d just aced a serve. “The only new men you’re going to meet are going to be newlyweds, not people open for a relationship.”

Chloe thought briefly of Mr. Newcombe and sighed. Well, there were newlyweds who were open to relationships of sorts, but God willing, the Rascal wouldn’t be booking any more of those.

“I know you, Chloe.” Her mother’s expression was serious and caring and mirrored by her father’s. “Gerald might have been the wrong choice, but I know how badly you want love, how much you want to be married. How much a solid relationship means to you,” she finished. “Do you really think you can replace that with this little business scheme and still be happy?”

Chloe’s mouth dropped open at her mother’s insight.

There it was, the crux of the problem.

She was interested in the business, without question. She enjoyed the sex.

But she’d want more than that. And she wasn’t sure Jack could or would give her what she needed.

They didn’t need to have a discussion about the details of their partnership, she realized. Or, rather, they needed to discuss a different kind of partnership. The thought terrified her, but she knew she had no choice.

“So what will it be, Chloe?” her father said in his rumbling low voice.

Chloe sighed. “I’m going back for this last charter,” she said. “And I need to discuss the details with Jack. If we can work something out, then I’ll stay.”

“And if not?” her mother pressed.

“If not,” Chloe said, feeling her stomach go cold, “then I’ll just walk away.”

“MR. AND MRS. RORSHAN?” Jack said, greeting the couple as they walked up the gangway.

“Please,” the husband said. “We’re Tom and Lily.”

Jack studied them warily. It had been two days since the Newcombe fiasco, as he was calling it, but it still stung. This young couple seemed normal, he thought. The guy looked to be in his late twenties, and from talking to him on the phone, Jack gathered he was some kind of computer genius—and loaded. This was going to be their biggest cruise yet. Two and a half weeks, to be exact. And not to Catalina or Mexico. This time they were going to Hawaii. It had been a long time since Jack had gone out to the islands and across that expanse of ocean. He found he was looking forward to it.

“This boat is wonderful!” the bride enthused. She looked to be in her twenties, as well. Her hair was a shoulder-length mess of corkscrew copper curls, a contrast to her husband’s short blond hair. They were both good-looking people, smiling and friendly. “It’s perfect, Tom. You were right.”

She leaned in to kiss her husband, and for a minute it was obvious that they thought they were the only two people on deck. His hands gripped her hips and her arms locked around his neck.

Well, at least we’re not going to have a repeat of that “you knew what this was” kerfuffle, Jack thought with a grin.

After several long minutes—and seeing that Tom’s hands were starting to edge under her shirt—Jack finally cleared his throat.

They broke apart, laughing a little self-consciously. “Sorry,” Tom said, although from the sparkle in his eyes Jack guessed the only thing he was sorry about was the fact that he and his pretty new wife weren’t someplace more private. “I guess we’re impatient to get our honeymoon started.”

Lily blushed, making her cream complexion look rosy and cute. Her eyes sparkled, too, as she laced her arm in her husband’s.

“Well, then, let’s not keep you waiting,” Jack said, winking. “Honeymoon cabin’s this way.”

“Will we be leaving right away?” Lily asked.

Jack frowned. Ordinarily he’d be telling Ace or Jose to get them going, since their passengers were on board. But now, they were waiting on his last crew member. He would’ve said he could set his watch by Chloe, but today she was late.

He got the feeling that things were afoot. She’d been alone for two days and she’d said that she needed “time to think.” Who knows what trouble her mind had gotten him into in a mere forty-eight hours.