by Tina Folsom
Jay suddenly looked over his shoulder and smiled at her. “There you are.”
Just his smile made her all giddy. “Hey.”
Zach turned as well, grinning. “Morning again, Tara.”
“Morning, Zach.” As casual as she could, she walked up to both of them, feigning interest in the various instruments on the bridge. “Nice boat.”
Zach rubbed his hand over the mahogany-lined dashboard. “Yeah, not bad, huh? I know the builder.” He glanced at Jay. “Do you wanna take the helm for a while, Jay, while I entertain our guest?”
Jay stared at him for a moment, before replying, “Sure, why not?”
Zach motioned to the comfortable benches at the stern. “It’s been a while. How have you been?”
“Good, thanks for asking.”
Even though she would have preferred to stand next to Jay as he operated the boat, she had no choice but to follow Zach’s invitation and take a seat on the white cushions that lined the built-in bench. She sat down in the corner and stretched her legs out on the bench that ran alongside the port side of the yacht, trying to appear relaxed.
“And you? Enjoying the summer?” she asked as Zach sat down, stretching his legs out in front of him.
Zach smirked. “Clearly not as much as you are.”
He cast a knowing look in Jay’s direction, as if that was necessary. She knew exactly what Zach meant by his words.
“Hey, don’t get me wrong,” Zach added quickly. “He’s a nice guy. I wouldn’t let him use my boat if he weren’t. I just never thought he’d be your type.”
“And why is that, Zach?” she challenged, feeling combative all of a sudden.
He instantly lifted his hands in a show of surrender. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it as an insult. I guess I was just a little surprised to find you here with him. He never mentioned a girlfriend.”
Ashamed at her outburst, she sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get him in trouble.”
“In trouble?” Zach appeared surprised.
“You know, if it’s not okay with you that I spent the night, I’ll just leave. I don’t want you to blame Jay for it. I was the one who came on to him. He really had no choice.”
Zach pinned her with an inquisitive stare. “You surprise me, Tara. I always thought you were the withdrawn type. Guess I was wrong, and I’m not wrong very often.”
She shrugged. “It’s not easy living under the scrutiny of a society that expects certain behavior. It makes us pretend one thing when we want to do something entirely different.”
“We all live under certain constraints, no matter how much money we have. Or don’t have.” He glanced at Jay whose back was turned while he expertly maneuvered the yacht through the swells as if he’d done so his entire life. “Personally, I don’t give a rat’s ass about the opinion of so-called society. Apparently you don’t either. It’s refreshing to meet somebody like that. Shame that it appears I’m too late to make a play for it. Or am I not?”
He leaned closer. Was he flirting with her? Instinctively, she avoided eye contact and looked back to the shore as if admiring the coastline.
She gave a laugh, deciding not to take him seriously. “Really, Zach? You never showed any interest in me before, if I recall correctly. And now, because I’m dating your employee, you’re suddenly interested?” She rolled her eyes. “That’s just classic. You only want what you can’t have.”
~ ~ ~
Jay throttled down the engine to slow the boat as he turned into a quiet bay. He’d been unable to follow Zach and Tara’s conversation due to the noise of the engine and the wind blowing past his ears. He made a mental note to speak to his engineers about reducing engine noise.
He surveyed the area ahead of him and spotted a public dock where they could tie off, with a short walkway that led to a restaurant where they could have lunch. Now that the yacht was coasting into the sheltered bay at less than two knots, he was able to hear Zach and Tara’s voices more clearly.
“…and some men just can’t take no for an answer.” Tara’s voice sounded agitated.
Had Zach made an overt pass at her and wasn’t accepting the fact that she wasn’t interested? Involuntarily, Jay looked over his shoulder. It didn’t appear as if Zach was sitting too close or trying to put the moves on her. Instead, he appeared interested in what she had to say.
“What did he do?” Zach asked now.
“He cornered me! I mean, his wife was right outside on the terrace. And there he is, cutting me off on the way to the kitchen.”
Jay reduced the speed to zero, letting the boat idle in the water, all ears now.
“Putting his hands on me.”
“Who?” Jay interrupted, jaw clenched. He released the wheel and took a few steps toward Tara.
She whirled her head to him.
“Quentin,” Zach answered in Tara’s stead.
“Quentin?” Jay asked in disbelief. That little piece of shit!
“He’s Paul Gilbert’s brother-in-law,” Zach explained, clearly in order to keep up the pretense. “You probably don’t know him, but he attended the party you worked at last night.”
Jay ignored Zach’s explanation and looked back at Tara. “What did he do to you?”
Tara made a dismissive hand movement. “Oh, he was just being a jerk.” She looked away, avoiding him.
But Jay couldn’t let it go. He approached her until he was only a foot from where she sat. “What did Quentin do?”
Tara looked up at him then. “He tried to kiss me. I told him I wasn’t interested. I shoved him away. He got angry. Luckily the cook showed up just in time and I got away.”
“Fucking jerk!” Jay hissed. “How dare he?”
“I’m fine. Nothing happened,” Tara said evenly, as if trying to calm him down.
But how could he be calm when Quentin had tried to force himself on her? “But something could have happened.” Jay sucked in a breath. “And his wife is pregnant.”
Tara tilted her head to the side. “How do you know that?”
For a second, he stopped himself. “Well, I saw them together. Mrs. Gilbert pointed out the family members to the catering staff before the party,” he scrambled to explain. When he noticed that Tara seemed to buy his explanation, he returned to the subject. “Somebody should teach that asshole a lesson.”
Tara reached for him, wrapping her wrist around his forearm. “He’s not worth it. He’s just another rich jerk who thinks he can do whatever he pleases because he’s got money.”
“It’s not right,” Jay grumbled.
“I hope you don’t measure all rich guys with the same yardstick, Tara,” Zach interjected. “I agree with Jay that it’s no way for a man to behave, but it would be a shame to toss all of us overboard just because of a few bad apples.”
Tara exchanged a look with Zach, while she casually stroked over Jay’s arm, a gesture that soothed him somewhat.
“It’s disrespectful not only to you,” Jay said, looking at Tara, “but also to the mother of his children. Marriage carries responsibility with it. He made a commitment, and he’d better damn well stick to it.”
“I wish more men had values like yours. I think the world would be better off,” Tara replied with a soft smile.
Unfortunately, he didn’t deserve her praise. He was just as rotten. Sure, he wasn’t the cheating kind, but he was lying to Tara about who he was. Maybe it would be better after all to admit who he was. Perhaps this was as good a time as any. And Zach was here to vouch for him, to confirm that he was a good guy, that he wasn’t like Quentin at all.
“Tara,” he started.
“And that’s why I’d rather be with a normal guy, somebody who isn’t polluted by money and status. Somebody down to earth. With real values. And not the twisted morals of high society.”
Jay stopped his next words from coming over his lips. Maybe this wasn’t the ideal moment to come clean after all. Tara was still pissed off about Quentin, and frankly, so was Jay. And at least
that was something he knew how to deal with.
Telling Tara the truth about himself would have to wait a little while longer.
11
“You must be hungry. Why don’t I go and get us a pizza?” Jay asked, desperately looking for an excuse to get off the boat. After a leisurely lunch, the three of them had returned to the dock Jay was renting for the summer, and Zach had left.
Alone, Jay and Tara had lounged on the deck, taking in the sun, which was now hanging low over the horizon.
“That sounds great,” Tara replied. “I can come with you.”
He waved her off quickly. He couldn’t have her tag along for what he was planning. “Stay here and make yourself comfortable.” He dipped his face to press a kiss to her cheek, wanting to distract her. “Feel free to do whatever you want. Maybe you want to get out of those clothes and wait for me wearing nothing but a smile.”
She chuckled. “Do you ever think of anything else besides sex?”
“It’s hard not to think of sex when I’m in the presence of such a hot woman.” And unfortunately he wasn’t the only man who thought that. “So, what would you like on your pizza?”
“Sausage and artichoke. Oh, and extra cheese.”
He smiled and snatched his wallet off the sideboard. “Coming right up.”
Jay left the boat, walking casually, knowing that Tara was probably watching him. The moment he reached the path that lay between two houses near the dock, he turned left, bushes and trees shielding him from Tara’s view. Instead of heading out to the street, he walked along the back of the properties until he reached his destination: the Gilbert family residence.
He stepped onto the path along the pool house and surveyed the area. Two people were sitting on the terrace. Well, he’d hoped for just one person, but maybe it was a good thing that Quentin wasn’t on his own. His wife, Olivia, who Jay knew from before she’d gotten married, sat on a lounge chair, reading a book. Maybe having Olivia there would help Jay keep his anger at a reasonable level and not beat the jerk to pulp.
He marched past the pool house and the pool, knowing Quentin would spot him at any moment. When Quentin’s gaze fell on him, he turned his head to his wife, saying something Jay couldn’t hear. Olivia looked up from her book.
Jay nodded to her. “Hi Olivia.”
She set the book aside, but didn’t get up. Heavily pregnant, she probably didn’t move as swiftly as usual. “Oh, hi Jay. This is a surprise. Where are you coming from?”
He ignored the question and looked at Quentin instead. He’d seen him a few times, but he couldn’t recall having been formally introduced. Just to be sure he was not mistaking him for somebody else, he asked, “Quentin, right?” He walked up the stairs, reaching the terrace.
The man nodded. “Nice to meet you.”
“If you’re here to see Paul, he’s gone. He went back to New York,” Olivia offered.
Jay didn’t turn his head, but instead glared at Quentin. “I didn’t come for Paul. I came to talk to your husband.”
Quentin put down his glass and rose, his forehead furrowing. “Is there a problem?”
“You could say that.”
“I don’t recall that we’ve ever done business together—”
“Nor will we ever,” Jay cut him off. “I don’t do business with slimy bastards like you.”
“What the fuck? You have no right to show up here uninvited and attack—”
“Jay, what’s going on?” Olivia interrupted, having jumped up from the lounge chair.
“This is between Quentin and me.”
“Don’t you talk to my wife like that!”
“Oh, so suddenly you’re on her side?” He hesitated, tossing a sideways glance at Olivia. But he couldn’t stop now. “Where was all that chivalry when you came on to Tara, huh?”
A flicker of recognition sparked in Quentin’s eyes. He clenched his teeth and took a step toward Jay, hands braced at his hips. “You’d better leave now or I’ll have my father-in-law remove you from the property.”
Jay scoffed. “So you’re hiding behind him now? No balls! Just like I thought.”
“Tara? This is about Tara?” Olivia pressed out, her voice sounding awfully close to tears.
Jay turned his head for a moment, regretting that she had to hear this. But maybe it was better she found out what her husband was up to. Olivia’s lips trembled, and her gaze shot past him to Quentin.
“Fucking liar!” Quentin hissed. “Get lost!”
Jay pivoted and snatched Quentin by his shirt. “Let’s take this somewhere else. Just you and me.” Then at least Olivia wouldn’t have to watch how he beat the shit out of her husband.
“Not a chance.”
“Fine.” Clearly the idiot couldn’t take a hint. “You groped Tara, you fucking asshole! You tried to kiss her, even though she said no.”
“Quentin?” Olivia’s voice was high-pitched, but her husband didn’t turn his head to look at her.
Instead, Quentin puffed up his chest and pushed Jay off him. “I did no such thing. She’s lying. That little bitch. She couldn’t land Paul, so she tried it with me.”
“Shut your fucking mouth!” Jay ground out. “Or I’ll shut it for you!”
Quentin scoffed. “So she’s got you on the hook, that little tramp! And she’s spreading lies about me.”
Jay narrowed his eyes, his blood boiling now. Quentin was lying, grasping every straw he could get his hands on to pull himself out of the hole he was in.
“Quentin, it’s true, isn’t it?” Olivia’s voice was toneless now, resigned.
Jay glanced toward Olivia, which was a mistake, because at that moment Quentin decided that words weren’t enough to deny Tara’s accusation. A balled fist landed on Jay’s chin, whipping his head to the side.
“You fucking shit!” Quentin yelled and drew back for another blow, but this time he wasn’t fast enough.
Jay pivoted and dealt a hard uppercut to Quentin’s chin, followed by a left hook that knocked his opponent against the table behind him.
“You touch Tara one more time, I’m going to beat you to a pulp.”
Apparently it wasn’t warning enough for Quentin, because he pushed himself off the table and barreled toward Jay, fists at the ready. Olivia’s cries to stop mingled with their grunts as Jay reacted to Quentin’s assault. The idiot had no idea who he was dealing with. Nobody hurt Tara and got away with it unscathed.
“Cheating bastard!” Jay underscored his words with a punch to Quentin’s midsection, making him fold in half for a short moment, before he managed to pull himself up again.
His opponent was quick, Jay had to give him that. Quentin whirled around and kicked his foot against Jay’s leg, making him lose his balance for an instant. It gave his attacker enough time to land a vicious blow against Jay’s nose.
He tasted blood, and that fact only made him more furious. Growling, Jay tackled Quentin and they both fell onto the tiled terrace, punching and kicking each other.
“Stop it!” Olivia screamed.
Jay now had the upper hand, pummeling Quentin with his fists.
From inside the house, a young boy suddenly started wailing. Jonathan, Olivia and Quentin’s three-year-old son. Perfect! No child should ever see his parents in a situation like this. As the cries came closer to the open French doors, Jay reluctantly let go of Quentin and jumped up. Quentin lay there, breathing hard and moaning in pain.
Jay loomed over the jerk, pointing his finger at him in warning. “If it weren’t for your son, believe me, I wouldn’t let you get away this easily. But you come close to Tara one more time, and I won’t be as gentle.”
Jay turned to look at Olivia. Their gazes met, and he saw the pain in her eyes. Jay had no words of comfort for her. What did you say to a woman who was seven months pregnant when she realized that her husband was a scumbag?
“I’m sorry, Olivia, but it was about time that somebody put him in his place.” Because from the few things Paul had told him
over the last couple of years, this wasn’t Quentin’s first lapse. Whether he’d cheated on Olivia before was none of Jay’s business, but once he had turned his attention—his unwanted attention—to Tara, it had become his business.
Jay turned on his heel and stalked down the stairs, wiping away the blood that dripped from his nose.
12
Five voice messages were waiting for Tara when she finally switched on her cell phone while waiting for Jay to come back with the pizza.
The first voice message from her mother sounded friendly. “Honey, let us know where to pick you up. It looks like we must have missed each other after all the chaos at the party.” The time stamp was from the previous night, shortly after the party had ended abruptly.
The second message was a little more insistent. “Tara, we haven’t heard back from you yet. We’re worried about you. Where are you?”
Worried? Yeah, right! Her parents weren’t worried, they were annoyed that she wasn’t jumping at their command. Their next message, this time coming from her father, made that abundantly clear.
“Tara, call us now. We’re planning to drive back to New York tonight. And it’s impolite to ignore your mother’s phone calls. We raised you better than that! If I don’t hear from you within the hour, there will be consequences, young lady!”
Argh! How she hated it when her father called her young lady. He did it to emphasize his superiority. It made her all the more aware of her own failures. She’d tried over and over again to get a job. Her prospective employers had been impressed by her design portfolio, but in the end they had all changed their mind—suddenly and without any explanation. She’d started to suspect that her parents were thwarting her efforts to establish any sort of independence from them.
Every rejection chipped away at her self-confidence. If her designs really showed promise, somebody would hire her no matter what her parents did to discourage a prospective employer from offering her a job. So maybe she had no talent—and that was a reality she wasn’t ready to face. It was a hit her battered self-confidence couldn’t sustain.
