Reunion for the First Time (6 page)

He couldn’t wait to get his hands on his brother for neglecting to explain why he reneged on his promise to Beth and sent him instead without her permission. No surprise that Charlie didn’t pick up the phone when he called him from the hotel. But he wouldn’t be able to duck him for long.

The bartender produced the drinks, and Jack reached a hand to grasp the handle of the beer mug. Clinking the glass against Mick’s he toasted, “To new friends.”

“To friends,” then Mick held his mug out in front of him, “new and old.”

Jack resumed his role as a spectator. Groups formed, broke apart, reformed as people milled around the room. Beth stood, rounded the name badge table and hugged two women enthusiastically. Jack recognized Wallace Prescott when he walked into the club, even though they’d never met. Clad conservatively in a navy blue blazer and khaki pants, Wally should have blended in with the rest of the men there. But his haughty expression surveying the room smacked of superiority.

Did the snob expect everyone to stand up and clap because he had arrived?

Prescott had what looked like a Victoria Secret model hooked into the crook of his right arm. His mud brown eyes prowled until they landed on Beth chatting in front of the table. Prescott’s territorial gaze never left her, while he shook hands and slapped backs as he wound his way in for the strike. What the hell did Beth see in this jerk?

“Excuse me a minute, Mick.” Jack rose, watching Beth who now stood alone by Kay’s table, her back to the door and Prescott’s forward advance.

Jack hastened over to Beth and put his arm around her.

Drawing her against his side, “There’s my girl. I missed you.” He made sure his tone was plenty loud. Jack brushed a tender kiss across her warm cheek.

****

What in the world?

Blindsided by the public display, Lizzie leaned left against Jack’s rock hard arm and raised a hand to nudge him away.

He deflected the swat of her hand by grasping it and kissing it. Bending his head to her ear he whispered, “Tell me that’s not Wally behind us, and I’ll let go.”

His warm breath on the sensitive skin of her ear causing a heady imbalance, she located Wallace about fifteen feet away facing in her direction. Alarm pierced her at the pending confrontation.

“You’re right, that’s him,” she whispered, her heart racing. He was still handsome and he still looked at her as if he owned her.

Jack’s bracing arm tightened around her shoulder. “Thanks,” she gave Jack credit for flawless acting, looking up at him with genuine affection. Then she focused on Wallace’s face.

Did he look jealous? Good. Nobody deserved it more
.

Despite the tiny zestful feeling of having the upper hand, Lizzie quaked inside with gladness seeing him again warring with a tumble of emotions; remembered longing, hurt, dashed dreams and a maddening bite of inadequacy.

Wallace unlatched a showy woman from his arm and strode directly toward her. “Elizabeth. I am so glad you were able to come. I was hoping you would.”

He ignored Jack wrapped around her and grabbed her hand, held it a beat, and cast her a wistful smile, then let it go. He shifted his eyes upward toward Jack, a quizzical, defiant expression on his face.

Lizzie’s heart hammered, and her breath caught in her throat. She had dreamed of and waited for this moment for so long. She leaned full-tilt against Jack. If he moved, she’d fall on the floor.

“Good to see you too, Wallace.” Proud her voice sounded steady and clear even though her insides had turned to Jell-O, she looked up at Jack with a flirty bat of eyelashes. “I want you to meet Jack Clark.”

“Hello Jack.” She knew Wallace too well to miss his snide and dismissive tone.

“Hi, Wally. Nice to meet you.” Jack still held her close and with his free hand pumped Wallace’s hand, and then dropped it. “Are you a friend of Beth’s? She’s never mentioned you.”

The invisible glove smacked Wallace’s face.

Wallace smiled thinly. “I prefer Wallace, Jack…Clark, is it? Elizabeth and I dated in college, didn’t we, Elizabeth?”

She shuddered at his choice of words. Such a paltry description of what she thought they were to each other.

Jack swung his right arm around to circle around her and squeezed. “Beth and I are a bit beyond
dating.”
He grinned at her, blue eyes dancing, and she bit back a laugh.

“I should never have let her go.” There was Wallace’s wistful smile again aimed straight to her heart.

Lizzie’s heart skipped, swelled as if cueing the live band which suddenly opened with Louis Armstrong’s
What A Wonderful World
.

Wallace’s apparent “date” shouldered her way into the group. Without a word, the tall, anorexic thin woman steered Wallace to the dance floor while he called over his shoulder, “We’ll talk later.”

Lizzie hadn’t moved an inch during the brief exchange and still nestled in the curve of Jack’s arm. He leaned down and brushed his lips on the top of her head. She turned her face up to meet his eyes.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Keep it up. I think it’s working.”

“Want to dance?” He didn’t wait for her response, just nudged her onto the dance floor and took her in his arms.

She closed her eyes and let him lead her slowly, soothingly, around the floor. Protected and insulated from the assorted emotions of seeing Wallace again, gradually her pulse steadied.

Wallace was still interested in her.
“I should never have let her go.”
And she had never forgotten him, always hoped, while she love-hated him that he would be interested in her again.

But warm and enveloped in Jack’s arms, she stopped thinking about Wallace or the past. She didn’t think at all, relaxed and moving to the music.

The crowded dance floor left little room for more than swaying. Cocooned in a little pocket toward the center of the pack, Lizzie noticed Wallace and his partner on the outer fringes of the floor. His eyes tracked her, never left her, although she did nothing to acknowledge his attention. She laid her head on Jack’s chest and savored the moment.

****

At midnight the band played its last set. Jack trailed behind her as she said her good byes to Kay and Mick after agreeing to meet for breakfast the next day.

“I’ll see you in the morning.” Jack shook Mick’s hand. His eyes softened as he reached for Kay’s hand and kissed the back of it tenderly. “Thanks for a nice evening.”

“See you tomorrow, Jack.” Kay beamed; she obviously liked Lizzie’s proxy date.

Jack rounded the car as the driver held the car door open for Lizzie, and she slid into the seat as Jack got in the back on the other side.

“I like Kay and Mickey,” he said, his tone soft, relaxed. “I could tell right away that they’re good people. Seems like I’ve known them a long time. I do not, however, like your Wally. I don’t understand why you’re wasting your time with him. But it’s none of my business.”

Do I want Wallace back? What do I want?
She only knew she didn’t want to end this wonderful evening with a disagreement. “I’m glad you were with me tonight. You were the perfect escort. Charlie couldn’t have done better. Thank you.”

“I’m not sure I like being called an escort,” he took his eyes off the road and cast her a bemused smile. “But you’re welcome.”

“Really, Jack. Thank you for all you did tonight. You went above and beyond any brotherly promises you made to Charlie.”

“No problem. Glad to do it.”

Lizzie leaned against the seat, sighed and the tension let loose for the first time since the flight.

Chapter Six

Lizzie awoke at dawn, sleep deprived after a restless night. So tired when she and Jack returned to the hotel from the reception the night before, she’d barely had enough energy to work the lock.

But by the time she washed her face, slipped on a nightshirt and climbed into the luscious king-sized bed, she was too wired to close her eyes.

The events of the evening replayed in her mind, especially the part where Wallace had looked at her with hunger in his eyes. What exactly did that mean? Could there be a chance for them again?

She stayed awake, thought about Wallace and wondered if he loved her. Repeat history. Wallace had caused sleepless nights before, during and after their relationship.

Rolling on her side, she stretched closer to the night table to see the face of the Bose clock radio. Seven A.M. She would much rather have breakfast with her friends alone, but would have to at least call Jack and ask if he still wanted to join them.

Shaking free of the down comforter she padded to the window and pushed the heavy draperies open. Sunshine glinted on the river and people engaged in all kinds of exercises along the banks below her. It seemed like a perfect day for walking. She dialed Jack’s room.

He picked up on the fourth ring. “Aah?”

“Good morning, Jack. I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

“It’s okay.” He cleared his throat. “Are those numbers right on the clock? Is it 7:03?”

“Yep. It’s seven. I shouldn’t have called, but I wanted to check in with you before I left to meet Kay and Mick for breakfast. You don’t have to go. I’ll touch base with you later about the plans for the gala tonight. It’s a sunny day so I plan to walk to the restaurant.” She spoke fast hoping that she could get the call over with and he would go back to sleep.

“I’ll have to take your word for it. My drapes are closed, and it’s still as black as midnight in here.”

Rustling. “Give me a few minutes to throw on some jeans,” his voice was losing some of its morning roughness. “I’ll come along. I’m starving.”

“Oh, take an hour. I’m not showered yet anyway. See you downstairs at eight?”

“An hour? OK. I can sleep for forty-five more minutes. See you in the lobby at eight.”

****

The elevator doors opened at 7:58, and Jack strolled out of the car with a long-limbed, lazy gait. Unshaven, his damp black hair finger-combed away from his face, he wore well-aged blue jeans and a long sleeved Illini sweatshirt.

He cut such an imposing figure that she noticed no one else in the crowd. Towering above everyone, he strode with athletic confidence toward the corner of the lobby where she stood. Her stomach quivered. Why was she nervous?

Powerful thigh muscles flexed under denim and the material of his faded orange sweatshirt pulled taut over his chest. His dark hair curled slightly at the ends to mid-ear. She had an urge to touch it and see if it felt soft or course against her skin.

His beard stubble would surely grate against her face if he were to kiss her. The heat of a guilty blush crept up her throat from the fantasy.

Composing her face into, she hoped, a neutral expression. “Good morning, Jack.”

“Mornin’, Beth.”

She let his repeat use of her dad’s nickname go. Couldn’t control Jack anyway. And she liked the soft inflection he used when he called her Beth. It somehow made her feel safe, like she had felt when Dad was still alive.

“I thought we’d leave early so we can walk for a while and take advantage of the weather. Want to wander around town a little?” Lizzie cocked her head, waiting for his reply.

“Sounds good to me. I could use some exercise.”

Jack held the door open for her and she walked outside. The fall colors had passed their peak. Brown leaves crackled underfoot and lifted in swirls with the breeze. The ancient trees still held most of their crowns of yellow, crimson and ocher.

Lizzie scuffed her feet along the cobblestones and pushed leaves ahead of her. Nostalgic, she looked at the piles of leaves in the street along the curb, wishing she could jump in them. Fall was her favorite season.

Breathing deeply, the crisp clean air renewed and invigorated her. Things were finally falling into place. She couldn’t wait to see Wallace again later.

She led Jack to the bridge over the Charles River. Racing shells speared through the water below. Crews moved in unison like an upside down centipede. People stopped along the span of the bridge to watch the boats and turned circles to take pictures from the vantage point of the middle of the river.

****

Beth kept her distance from him, at least a foot was between them the whole time. He listened to her guide-talk as she picked out points of interest. At first he considered telling her he had done graduate work at the university, and he knew every inch of the streets they traveled but decided against it. This was her show, and besides, things looked new to him through her eyes. Funny how he didn’t want to control the conversation.

When they arrived at the Greenhouse exactly at nine, Kay and Mick had already snagged a table at the insanely crowded restaurant. Beth guided him past the line that formed out front.

Threading the way toward Beth’s friends, Jack didn’t interrupt her rambling, “Everybody loves this place. Kids, parents, faculty. Doesn’t matter that it’s always so packed it’s almost claustrophobic.”

He knew it well. The menu took fifteen minutes to read, the portions were gigantic, the prices reasonable and the food legendary.

“Hey guys. Thanks for getting the table.” She hugged Kay and Mick and then sat.

“We can eat now. Yay,” Kay hooted.

Two steaming mugs of coffee waited at the empty places at the table. He followed Lizzie, sat beside her and placed his order with the others.

The waitress returned in minutes balancing their overflowing plates in each hand and on her forearms.

He dove into his fluffy omelet and watched Kay dive into hers with the gleeful avarice of a pregnant woman. Stuffed, he sipped his coffee amid butter and cinnamon aromas, the clatter of metal utensils against plates and the din of overlapping conversations.

“That was some party you threw last night, Kay.” Jack leaned back, stretching his legs out under the table with one arm across the back of Beth’s chair. “Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves.”

“Wait until you see what I have planned for tonight. I have a few surprises up my sleeve that even Lizzie doesn’t know about. You went to the University of Illinois?” Kay pointed to his sweatshirt.

“For three years. Then I was out of there and never looked back.” He had been determined to finish the normal five-year architecture degree in three years so he could help at the firm due to his grandfather’s failing health. That man had meant everything to him, and he missed him every day.