by Diana Palmer
At least she had plenty to do. She kept busy working long hours with Jody at their expanded location, planning their social media campaign, ordering the equipment for her kitchen, getting it in and installed, hiring her sister-in-law Chloe to design the front area, to create a cozy little bakery, both beautiful and homey. There would be adorable crystal chandeliers, warm pink walls and cute iron tables with comfy padded chairs. And lots and lots of greenery, courtesy of Bloom.
She found that she was happy, mostly, her life back on track after a long string of setbacks. But her heart did ache. Nights were the toughest. Just her and Wigs alone in the darkness of her tiny apartment. She cuddled him close and longed for Jed, though she felt she couldn’t reach out to him, that it wasn’t for her to make that move.
She tried her best not to worry about him, all alone with no one to talk to.
* * *
Jed was not doing well.
At first, he pushed thoughts of Elise from his mind by burying himself in rewrites, working twenty-hour days, barely pausing to eat, let alone sleep. Ten nonstop days and nights after she left him, he sent McCannon’s Fall off to Carl in New York.
Without the book to fill his mind, things got bad fast.
His bed was too big without her to hold on to. His fancy house was empty, the damn catio deserted. Sometimes, he thought he heard Wigs meowing. He would wander from room to room, knowing he would find nothing, driven to look for the fur ball, anyway.
After a week of that idiocy, he decided he needed to keep active. He worked out until every muscle jumped and quivered with exhaustion. He threw a lot of knives. He visited the shooting range.
On a Thursday, during the first snowstorm of the season, he took his Range Rover halfway up the mountain, where he and his father used to live.
Temperatures that day stayed well below freezing.
As if he cared how cold it was. He had good gear, rated for arctic conditions. When even the Range Rover could go no farther, he set the brake and got out into the driving snow. He found the trail he knew so well and climbed steadily upward, oblivious to the cold and the limited visibility.
The cabin was still there, locked up good and tight. The shed where his dad had stored their library of books hadn’t fared as well. A tree limb had fallen on it, gone right through the roof. Jed felt some satisfaction that at least he’d emptied it out years ago and donated the books to the Justice Creek Library.
He stood on the rough steps that led up to the door and stared at the spot where he’d found Calvin Walsh’s lifeless body all those years ago. That was a dark day, the day his father died, the day he saw for the first time that he was completely alone in the world.
It had been snowing that day, too. Tears freezing on his cold cheeks, he’d stared at the big man unmoving on the ground and wondered what he was going to do with himself now. He’d known peace and safety, companionship and mutual understanding with his father. It had always been the two of them, Calvin and Jedidiah, father and son, preparing for the end times, alone against the world.
How would he survive in the big, wide, corrupt, noisy world? He’d had no idea. But he had known that he wasn’t staying on that mountain all alone. The end times hadn’t come and he needed to learn how to live.
And he’d done that, hadn’t he? He’d succeeded beyond his wildest imaginings. He was the Jed Walsh, a household name. He wrote the books people wanted to read and he made the big bucks.
But standing there on the steps of the one-room house where his father had raised him, staring at the empty, snowy ground where Calvin Walsh had fallen, he knew he’d gone nowhere.
He was as alone as he’d ever been—no. More so, now that he loved Elise. Now that he knew what it was to look in a woman’s eyes and see everything, a full life, that strange thing called happiness, a future filled with laughter and tears, disagreements and compromises, with everything that made it all worthwhile.
The wind sang through the tall trees and the snow kept on falling, covering the rocky ground in pure, cold white. Jed turned and started back down the mountain.
That night and the next and the one after that, he woke in the darkest hours before dawn, disoriented. For a moment or two, he would wonder what was missing. And then he remembered: the woman he loved curled up in his arms. And that damn cat purring from the foot of the bed…
It took those three nights after he went up the mountain for him to finally accept what he needed to do. And it wasn’t to find another assistant. He was finished with that. In his life as a writer, he’d found two women capable of putting up with him while he worked. Two women who understood him and took care of him and didn’t take any of his crap. One had been like the mother he’d lost too soon.
The other was Elise.
After Elise, no one would stack up. There was no point in torturing even one more hapless keyboarder.
He needed another way. And what else was there for him to do but get going on that? He went into his office and sat down at his desk.
And after three more weeks of working like a madman, he was finally ready to go after what mattered most.
* * *
Jed knew where to find her. A few bills and circulars originally addressed to her apartment had shown up in his mailbox after she left and before she’d had them rerouted again. He’d sent that mail on to her—but not before making a note of where she lived.
On the Saturday before Thanksgiving, he got in the Range Rover and headed for Creekside Drive. He parked in the lot in back of her building and entered through the rear door. The smell of donuts hit him, along with a memory so perfect and sweet: Elise on the kitchen counter, shy, breathless and wonderfully soft. He’d never forget that night—or those little pink panties he’d torn off to get to her…
Longing almost doubled him over. He looked up the narrow stairs and didn’t know if he could do it.
What if she couldn’t forgive him? What if she’d simply moved on?
Didn’t matter. He had no choice here. He couldn’t go on without at least giving it a shot.
He gripped the banister and started climbing.
Hers was the first door on the right. He knocked.
Nothing. So he knocked again. Still no answer. He peered through the peephole, saw nothing and pictured her on the other side, refusing to answer, peering right back at him.
He tried the doorknob. Locked. He should call.
But he was afraid to call. What if she hung up on him? Surely she’d take pity on him and hear him out if he could only reach her face-to-face.
He went back down the stairs and out the door. Once in the car, he made himself call her.
The call went straight to voice mail. The answering message wasn’t even her voice. “You have reached Elise Bravo and Bravo Catering. Please leave a message.”
“Elise. I need to talk to you. Please call me back.” He disconnected before he realized he hadn’t left his name.
It had been almost two months since he’d sent her away.
Could she have forgotten what his voice sounded like in that time? Would she even know it was him?
She would, he realized, because she had his number programmed into her phone.
Didn’t she?
He wasn’t 100 percent sure…
God. He was pitiful. A hopeless case.
He started up the car and headed home—and somehow ended up on Central Street. And there it was, Bravo Catering, right next door to Bloom. He parked a
nd went in. There were glass cases filled with wonderful-smelling muffins and cupcakes, greenery everywhere and old-timey crystal chandeliers overhead. Half the tables were occupied with smiling, muffin-eating customers. It was charming and well done.
“What can I get you today?” asked the pretty girl behind the counter.
“I want to speak with Elise.”
“I’m sorry, you missed her. She’s got a wedding today.” A wedding? So soon? Didn’t women take months and months to plan those? The girl behind the counter smoothed her pink apron. “Just let me take your name and number and—”
“No. It’s okay. I’ll…get in touch with her later.” He turned and started for the door—but then, at the last minute, he pivoted and went under the wide interior arch to Bloom.
Jody turned from watering a fern as he approached. She didn’t look especially happy to see him. “Jed Walsh.” She marched over and plunked the watering can down on the register counter. “We all thought you died. You’re lucky Nellie has restrained herself or you’d be missing a few vital body parts.”
Okay, he was a douche. It wasn’t news. “You can’t possibly despise me as much as I do myself.”
“Oh, but I can try. What is the matter with you?”
“A lot. Jody, I really need to see her.”
Jody’s mouth was a thin slash of complete refusal. “She’s working.”
“The girl in the bakery said she had a wedding…”
“Call her. Leave a message.”
“I did. I forgot to leave my name. I… Come on, Jody. I know I don’t deserve another chance with her, but give me a break here.”
Jody stared at her watering can for an endless count of five, then turned on Jed again. “You want another chance?”
He held out both arms wide. “You are looking at a desperate man. Come on. Where is she?”
“Can’t you just wait until—”
“I’ve waited too long already. Think about it. You’ll know it’s true. This shop—yours and hers.” He gestured at the greenery around them, the bakery through the archway, all of it. Everything. “It’s great. Well done. I get it. I know it’s what she wants and I want her to have that. Whatever she wants. I know I ruined everything. Just give me a chance to make it right.”
Jody eyed him sideways. “She took this wedding at the last minute. An old friend of ours got engaged at Halloween and wanted to have the big wedding and do it right away. Leesie’s worked her butt off. If you mess it all up by making a scene…”
“No scenes. I swear to you. Just tell me where to find her.”
* * *
The friend’s wedding was in a farmhouse several miles out of town. Jed parked with the wedding guests, in an open field not far from the house. The snow from three weeks before had long since melted. It was a sunny day, mild for November. He walked up the wide driveway to the front door, where a white-haired lady greeted him, pinned a rosebud to the lapel of his jacket and kissed him on the cheek.
“You’ve just made it in time.” She put a finger to her wrinkled lips. “Shh, now. They’re all in the living room.” She ushered him inside.
He went through a roomy foyer with a wide, flower-bedecked staircase leading up and on into the living room, where flowers were everywhere and the bride and the groom stood facing a guy in a clerical collar in front of a big brick fireplace.
The white chairs arranged in rows with an aisle down the middle were all occupied. Jed hung back near the arch to the foyer and watched two people he’d never seen before exchange their vows. They did look happy, he thought. And deeply in love.
He remained, staying out of the way as much as possible, through all of it—the picture-taking and the quick, expert switch from row seating for the ceremony to a buffet line and tables for the reception. A four-piece band set up in a corner and began playing dance music.
And Elise?
She was everywhere. She wore a pink cashmere sweater and one of those pencil skirts that clung to every lush, delicious curve. He wanted to duck into a closet and wait for her to walk by—just pop out, snatch her hand, haul her in there and start making up for all the time they’d lost.
But he didn’t. He behaved himself. On the drive out here, he’d come up with a plan—not a very good one, true. But the best he could do given that he wasn’t going home until he’d had a chance to talk with her. He would stay out of her way until the reception was over. He reasoned that as long as she didn’t know he was here, he wouldn’t be disrupting the party.
So he kept his eye out, ducking quickly out of sight whenever she got too close or looked as though she might glance his way. It wasn’t easy, keeping her from spotting him. She was constantly on the move. She kept track of everything and yet at the same time, she didn’t seem to be rushing or under any pressure. She was serene. Unruffled. Even bobbing and weaving to keep her from spotting him, he could see that this was her element.
And that had him worried all over again that he didn’t have a chance with her now. Why would she ever come back to a man who’d tried to bully her into giving up the work she loved?
As the guests started filling plates at the buffet, the sweet older lady who’d greeted him at the door took his arm. “I’ve been trying to place you. Now, let me guess. You’re Jerry’s cousin Silas, aren’t you?”
He made a vaguely agreeable sound that could have meant anything.
“I knew it.” The old lady chuckled. “I’m Marlena. So lovely to finally meet you, Silas.”
“Marlena, the pleasure is all mine.”
She squeezed his arm. “A big man like you? You must be starving.”
“Now that you mention it, that prime rib looks amazing.” There was a guy in a chef’s hat carving a giant, juicy-looking roast halfway down the buffet line.
Marlena let go of his arm and patted his back. “Well, get after it, Silas. And don’t be a stranger, you hear me now? I know you and Jerry have had your disagreements, but family is family. Jerry speaks of you often. He misses you terribly.”
By then, Jed was starting to feel a little guilty for letting the sweet old lady think he was someone he wasn’t. He gave her another grunt of agreement and hit the buffet.
Once he had a plate piled high with prime rib and several mouthwatering sides, he chose a table in the corner, kind of out of the way, with a pillar to duck behind whenever Elise came too close. A couple of guys who were probably at least Marlena’s age joined him. The food was delicious—no surprise there, given Elise’s talents in the kitchen. And the company was great, too. The old guys, Mervin and Bob, were brothers, WWII vets who’d both been at the Battle of the Bulge. The three of them were talking brilliant military maneuvers through history when Jed smelled clean sheets and knew he was busted.
She was standing right behind him. Dear God, just the smell of her…
Longing coursed through him. She bent close and a loose curl of her hair brushed his cheek. He had to order his grasping hands not to reach back and grab her. “Outside,” she whispered. “Now.”
When he dared to turn his head, she was already headed for the door. He made his excuses to Bob and Mervin and hustled out after her.
She led him halfway to the field where the cars were parked. Then finally, she stopped and braced her hands on those fine, full hips. “I’ve seen the guest list. You’re not on it.”
He kept his arms at his sides, though every muscle yearned to reach for her. “I needed to talk to you. I was going to wait unti
l the party was over, I swear to you I was.”
Those coffee-brown eyes got softer—or was that just wishful thinking on his part? “It’s not the time, Jed. I’m working.”
“I know, but—”
“Look. If you’ll call me tomorrow, we can meet, okay? We can talk.”
Hope. He felt it now. A feather lightness in his chest, a burning in his brain. He only needed to grab her and kiss her, shove her in the Range Rover and drive away fast. Somehow, he kept himself from doing that. “Tomorrow? I’ll call, you’ll answer. You mean that?”
Her eyes were softer still. “I do.”
His control broke. “Elise.” He reached for her.
But she jumped back. “Not here. I mean it. Tomorrow. Please.”
It took all the will he had, but he put a lid on it. “Tomorrow. Okay.” And he made himself turn and head for his car.
He went back to his house.
But he couldn’t stay there. He stopped the car in the garage—and then shifted into Reverse and backed it right out.
Where the hell to now?
He knew where: her place.
* * *
The back door onto the parking lot was locked when he got there. But he went around front, bought a glazed donut and ate it as he wandered down the hallway past the restrooms. The door at the end was unlocked.
Did he feel like a stalker?
Maybe a little.
Too bad. She’d said she would take his call tomorrow. He was only moving the time frame up a little. Nothing wrong with that. He polished off the donut and ducked into the men’s room to rinse the sugar off his hands.
When he went back to the hallway, it remained deserted. He went on through the door at the end. Five steps more and he reached the stairs leading up to her apartment.
