Charmed (Contemporary Romance)

by Ines Saint

  Their little town had a population of just under one thousand, and almost everyone knew who everyone else was, even if only by name. “Do you have relatives there?” he asked, thinking if she was widowed she may have moved there because of family.

  “Yes, I grew up there.”

  “What’s your maiden name?” She was clearly younger than him, which would account for him not remembering her very well. But he probably knew her family.

  “You know, I think I know why I look familiar to you. I treated you to ice cream at Mrs. Bird’s shop once, a very long time ago. You probably don’t remember, but that has to be it.” She splayed her hands in front of her as if she’d solved the puzzle when she’d only managed to confuse him more. “Now, can we get back to the interview?”

  “You treated me to ice cream once? I’m guessing you’re somewhere around seven to ten years younger than I am, and I haven’t had ice cream with a girl since high school. I’m positive I didn’t let a little girl treat me to ice cream when I was in high school.”

  “Actually, I was eight … and you must’ve been fifteen or so. You were at Milford Park with your girlfriend, and I hit my head with my snowflake wand. The metal was sticking out, and it was pretty rusty. There was blood. You helped me get my head cleaned up at a nearby fountain, and I insisted I buy you ice cream. I’m sure you don’t remember, but it might be why I look familiar.”

  Nick tapped his pen on his desk. “Actually, I do remember … ”

  “You do?” Jamie’s eyes widened.

  A slow, satisfied smile spread across Nick’s face. “First of all, I would never have guessed that thing was a snowflake wand. Second, you bribed me with ice cream so I wouldn’t call your father, but I had Mrs. Bird call him behind your back, and Dr. Viera came to pick you up. You are Justin Viera’s little sister. Well, his sister.” He was sure of it, though he couldn’t see the resemblance. There was no way he would’ve found her attractive if he’d thought she looked anything like Justin.

  Nick pointed to her with his pen, hearing the strangely triumphant tone in his voice, unable to rein it in. He nodded toward the newspaper clipping of a hockey game between Boston University and Boston College that Jamie had been looking at. The article outlined Nick’s winning score against Justin.

  “You used to yell at me at the top of your lungs at our games back in college, that’s where I remember you from. How old were you? Twelve, thirteen? Man, you had a mouth on you. ‘Savage goon’ and ‘ignorant brute’ were among your favorites, if I remember correctly.” Nick leaned back in his chair, completely unable to wipe the smile from his face.

  “Are you gloating?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Because I called you names as a teenager and now I’m here? I’m not at your mercy, you know. There are other schools to choose from.”

  “No.” Nick chuckled. “Because you’re Viera’s sister, and I’m wondering if he knows you’re here.”

  “Yes, he does. He actually recommended your school. He’s being mature about it.”

  Nick thought about that for a moment. Justin Viera had recommended his school. To his own sister. He sat back and took it in, realizing it was a huge compliment. And here he was behaving in a decidedly unprofessional manner. He tried hard to wipe the smile off his face and look sincere.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Sullivan. I guess I’m not making a very good impression on you,” he said, wondering how he could backtrack.

  “Then we’re even. I’m sure I didn’t make a great first impression outside. And if I’m to call you Nick, you should call me Jamie.”

  “Okay, Jamie.” He shook his head. “I think it’s safe to say that today hasn’t been a normal day for either of us. I’ve never caught a parent dangling from a tree, and we’ve never had a mix-up with an appointment. I’m usually better prepared. Also, I assure you that my meetings with parents never contain any gloating and, although we do sometimes talk about superheroes, it’s always in relation to the kid’s ambitions, not the parents’. I propose we start over.”

  “Yes! Please, let’s start over.”

  “Okay, then.” Nick leaned forward. “First question: is it true that Viera shaved all his hair off because he realized he was going bald?”

  Jamie laughed. He’d known she would, just like he knew he shouldn’t be trying to make her laugh. He sat back. What was wrong with him? He remained silent a moment too long, wondering how to bring the so-called interview to an end.

  “How old is Emma now?” Jamie asked, pointing to his daughter’s picture.

  “She just turned eighteen.”

  “Really? Will she be starting college this fall?”

  “Yes. She’s going to BU.”

  “I imagine you’re going to miss her terribly. What are you going to do with yourself?” She glanced up at him, her dark eyes thoughtful.

  It occurred to him that he’d been flirting a little with Jamie. He hadn’t meant to. He’d never behaved that way in school before. Never. He took his job seriously.

  “What do you mean, what am I going to do with myself?”

  Jamie’s expression went from friendly to something he couldn’t put his finger on. “Well, just that you’ll feel more alone now. You’ll probably be looking for new ways to fill your new free time, that’s all.”

  Maybe his behavior had given Jamie the wrong impression. He’d been hearing these questions a lot lately, and his knee-jerk reaction to single moms who asked about Emma and how he’d feel and what he’d do and how ever would he fill up his time, took over.

  He didn’t want to offend her, but he had to set things straight. He looked for a balance. “Well, of course I’ll miss her, but I’m also looking forward to the next step. I love children, obviously.” He looked at her steadily then, raising an eyebrow for effect. “But I’m finished, for good, with raising any myself. I have definite plans — I’m actually leaving for a year, come January. I’m not looking to fill up my time here at all.”

  As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he caught Jamie’s confused expression and regretted his tone. It had come out more direct than he’d intended.

  • • •

  Jamie sank back into her chair. Nick’s tone had changed. He was serious and obviously sending her a message.

  It took a moment to sink in, but it didn’t make sense. Had she been sending the wrong signals? Was her meaningless attraction to him obvious? It had been so long since she’d reacted to a man, maybe she’d forgotten how to hide it.

  But, damn it, she hadn’t been flirting! Justin had told her the school had a family-like atmosphere, and Nick had been very friendly and familiar. She’d been following his lead.

  Part of her wanted to call him an egomaniac, but he’d probably think she was offended because he’d rejected her or something. Ugh! No wonder her brother saw a troll with boobs and no hair whenever he looked at Nick.

  “My life revolves around my children right now and I sometimes wonder if I’ll know what to do with myself when they no longer need me as much,” she explained, trying hard not to clench her teeth. “I only asked you about your plans because you’re about to go through that new chapter and I was curious. That was my sole reason for asking, Dr. Grey.”

  Nick seemed to be at a loss for words. When she got up, he handed her a memo detailing the admissions process before offering her a quick and awkward handshake.

  At the gate, Jamie turned back and looked at the school with mixed feelings. It was a perfect match for her boys, but it wasn’t a good fit for her.

  His warning had been uncalled for and ridiculous, especially when he’d been so charming just moments before. To Jamie it was one more reminder that too many people hid their true selves. Nick had just unmasked himself sooner than most.

  Chapter Two

  Claire walked in just as Nick wa
s putting Jamie Sullivan’s paperwork away. “How’d it go?”

  “It … was a strange interview.” He’d behaved badly and he was disappointed in himself, but he was at a loss as to what to do about it. Would she go through the admissions process? “It turns out she’s Viera’s sister.”

  “Justin Viera? Your college ice hockey nemesis?” Claire rolled her eyes at him.

  “High school, too. How can you forget?”

  “Isn’t he in your old-timers league now?” Claire asked.

  “It’s not an old-timers league, it’s a master’s league. And we’re not officially a league yet.” He kept quiet for a while.

  “What’s on your mind?”

  “Getting older,” Nick confessed. “You know, all through high school and college, I can’t think of a game where Viera and I didn’t get into a fight. There he was, always standing in the way. Whether it was a winning streak for our team, or a personal record I was working so hard to break …

  “He was relentless. He just wouldn’t let it happen. I was always in his way, too, and then we had to see each other around town. I think it’s safe to say the hate was mutual.” Nick tapped his pencil to his chin, considering their more recent history.

  “But somewhere along the way I actually began respecting the guy. Probably around the time I moved back, and we both started teams here. We were both so intent on still playing, even though our lives were focused on other, more important things. It seems like under different circumstances, we might’ve been friends.”

  He didn’t add that he would’ve also known Jamie better and he wouldn’t have treated her the way he’d just treated her. He still had no idea why those words had come out of his mouth without going through a filter first.

  He broke from his reverie to look at the silver-haired woman who was like a mother to him. “It’s just funny what age can do to you.”

  Claire stared at him for a long moment before getting up, walking over, and giving him a firm whack over the head with a rolled up stack of papers. “You’re all of thirty-seven and you’re telling me? That is funny.”

  • • •

  Later that night, Jamie tucked her boys into bed and looked forward to a little alone time.

  “Mommy, can you tell me the story about Autumn Falls?” Timmy asked.

  “Not again,” Michael groaned. “That’s such a girlie story.”

  “It is not! It’s a true story, and it’s got an Indian war guy in it and magic and everything.”

  Jamie turned their night light on, switched the overhead light off, and sat on the corner of Timmy’s bed. “All right, one more time,” she agreed, watching Michael put a pillow over his head. “It’s called the legend of Autumn Falls because nobody has been able to prove it really happened.”

  “No! Start with once upon a time,” Timmy instructed.

  “Okay.” Jamie cleared her throat to find her best storyteller voice. “Once upon a time, an indebted and embattled duke fled from England to the New World in search of fortune. He became very rich with a cashmere mill he started right here in our little town. He then got married and had a child. His daughter was born among gold, orange, and fiery red leaves on a mid-fall day, and he named her Autumn.

  “One night, when the adventurous and impulsive duchess turned ten, she snuck away to climb Drizzle Mountain. As she climbed, two stars collided in the heavens above. The spectacular light blinded the duchess, and she almost fell off a ridge, but a young Mohican Indian saved her.

  “The years passed, and Autumn and her Mohican continued to live parallel lives. So close, yet their paths never seemed to cross. By the time the Mohican Indian was eighteen, he was so brave and so courageous that he was named a hero by the tribal war chief on a special night. That very dawn, he and Autumn chanced upon each other again while walking along Drizzle Mountain.

  “They soon fell deeply in love. But her father would never approve, and so they planned to elope. When the duke found out, he had the Mohican murdered the night before their elopement. When Autumn went to meet her young Mohican love at daybreak, she learned of his midnight murder.

  “The young duchess was so angry at her father, she decided to punish him. She climbed the ridge where she and her Mohican had first met, and flung her body over the edge!

  “When the Mohican hero’s mother learned about the tragic events, she gathered the pair of traditional wedding charm dolls she’d made for the couple, bound them together, face to face, placed them in a medicine bag, and chanted as she buried the charm dolls.

  “Two Mohican Indian women heard her mournful chants, and they each told a different ending. One said that the chant was a spell, and that if anyone fell in love while roaming her land, there was to be no obstacle their love couldn’t overcome. The second cautioned that the chant was a curse, and that love born on this land would always end in suffering.”

  Jamie glanced at her boys. She shook her head and smiled when she saw that Timmy was almost asleep while Michael was awake and listening.

  “And years later, as more settlers came, the story was passed on. It became such a popular legend that the town was named Autumn Falls.” She gave each boy a kiss on the forehead and turned to go.

  “Mommy, why did Autumn fling herself off the cliff? Is that what love does to people?” Michael’s eyes were wide.

  “Only to very silly people whose mommies never told them that there are better ways to handle sadness.”

  “Do you believe it was a love spell or love curse, Mommy?” a groggy voice asked. Jamie turned to Timmy, who was still fighting sleep.

  Love spell for a lucky few, love curse for the willfully blind, Jamie thought. But instead she said, “I don’t believe in spells or curses, but I do believe some sort of magic happens here, because I’m always happy to be back home.”

  Jamie turned off the light and went into the living room. She sat with her sketchpad and began to draw, remembering a time when she too loved hearing about the legend, believing her small town held some secret magic. It definitely looked like it did. Etched into a valley of rolling hills that spilled out of two mountain ranges, Autumn Falls seemed like the perfect place for enchantment.

  Michael and Timmy would love growing up here, too. And Grey Private Elementary seemed like the perfect place for them to go to school. But thinking about the school made her think about Nick Grey and his absurd warning.

  As if she ever wanted to lose herself again.

  Absentmindedly turning a page in her sketchbook, Jamie led her charcoal pencil into lines and curves that quickly turned into a pair of eyes, and soon, a certain look Scott had often given her took shape.

  Staring down at the page, she swallowed a thick sigh, thinking of the life she’d lived since first laying eyes on the enigmatic Scott Sullivan, knowing she’d never see that look again.

  She tore the page out of the book, not wanting to go there.

  The place she’d retreated to after Scott’s funeral was lonely, and she’d stayed there, gracefully and quietly, often remembering that very look. Many moments had been lost to the strain and the burden of certain memories she couldn’t share.

  The sound of a faucet interrupted her dark thoughts, and she walked to the hall bathroom to see if one of the kids had gotten up for a drink of water.

  It was Timmy. He was asleep, and he was peeing on the bathroom door. Again. Jamie ran a hand through her hair. Some kids talked in their sleep, some kids walked. She’d even heard of sleep eating. Her son was the only one she knew of who sleep-peed.

  She cleaned the mess, a sobering yet welcome reminder that she had too much to do to either dwell on the past or worry about meaningless things in the present.

  • • •

  Nick was feeling restless. He’d reached the state just before sleep a few times, but hadn’t managed to go under. It was to
o hot and his mind was too active. Whipping his shirt off, he went to the kitchen and gulped down an entire glass of water before opening the liquor cabinet, retrieving a bottle of Johnnie Walker, and slowly pouring a measure of the liquor into the same tumbler.

  Walking toward the living room, he took a swig, savored the smooth taste and aroma, and swallowed. He sat in front of the floor to ceiling bay window, heaved his feet onto the coffee table, and looked out.

  His house was perched atop a steep hill, and he could see the whole town from that one armchair on a clear day. His gaze traveled across town, toward the turn-of-the-century house where he’d grown up. It was so dark, he couldn’t see much, but his eyes always seemed to wander in that direction first. The old mansion was now a bed and breakfast, and it looked more inviting to him now than when it had been his home.

  Willow Street was just below, and his thoughts turned to the new occupants of the small blue cottage on the corner, wondering why he’d gone and hurt Jamie Sullivan.

  He knew why she’d made him uncomfortable, but a cold shower would’ve cured that. For some reason, he’d wanted to give her a good shove away from him.

  “Jamie Sullivan,” Nick said out loud, making her a promise. If she applied, he’d make her feel at home at the school. He had a few months before he left, and he had a lot to do, but he’d carve out time to make her feel like she was part of the family. He owed it to every parent.

  Taking in a long, deep breath, he bit into a few chunks of ice in lieu of a cold shower and purposefully cleared his mind of his thoughts. Turning away from the window, he caught sight of his reflection, and was happy to see nearly the same abs and arms he’d had in college. Flexing an arm, he nodded approvingly.

  “You got up in the middle of the night to check yourself out?” Emma half yawned, startling him.

  “What are you doing up?”

  “Who’s Jamie Sullivan?” Emma asked, ignoring his question.

  “Are you having trouble sleeping?”

  “Is this the beginning of your midlife crisis, Dad? ’Cause you can talk to me about it, you know. What’s on your mind?” Emma sat down.