He pulled out the BlackBerry his father had given him and found the number. At the last minute, Jeremy realized he didn’t want to talk to Kenneth, hear his voice or answer his questions. He typed in a text message instead.
You can invest in her. I broke it off.
Jeremy stared at the text, his heart pounding, knowing what it was going to cost him.
He took a deep breath and pressed ‘send.’
♥
JOCELYN TRIED the key for the side door and found it didn’t work. Shame and fear congealed in her stomach. Would Jeremy have changed the lock? With shaking hands she shoved the keys back in her pocket.
Let him go. Let him go—you don’t want him—let him find somebody who does. He’s a great guy, he deserves better. He wouldn’t believe you now so there was no point in coming here to get him back. It’s over. You messed up.
She bent over, her hands on her knees and tried to breathe. It felt like a small bomb was going off inside her chest. Jocelyn darted around to the front of the locked and empty theater. His window was perched high above the grounds. He’d left it open a crack to catch the fresh air.
“Jeremy!” she screamed. She hadn’t meant to scream like a lunatic below his window. Panic made it come out that way. He couldn’t go out with Paula Dunlop. He just couldn’t. It would kill her if he did.
“Jeremy!”
There was no answer.
Oh god. He wasn’t going to come down. He wasn’t going to talk to her.
She sank to her knees in the spongy cold grass surrounded by purple crocuses. Mute and sunk with misery, it was impossible to think clearly about what she should do next. “I can’t breathe,” she whispered. “Oh god, Jeremy, I can’t breathe.”
Jocelyn was in love with Jeremy Marks.
How convenient, he would say. Why would he believe her? Ryan McIntyre had rejected her overtures. The whole town would find out sooner or later—including Jeremy. No one wants to be the consolation prize. Maybe Jeremy already knew what happened in Ryan’s office and that’s why he wasn’t coming to the window.
Jocelyn leaned back as far as she could to try and see into his apartment. Suddenly, she lost her balance and fell backward into the crocus bed. She struggled to stand up and then gave up, laying flat on her back, staring blankly at the still-bright sky. Today was the spring equinox when the day was exactly as long as the night.
Yesterday, at this time she was prepping the apple torte for dinner with Jeremy. She was thinking about him, his smile, his glasses and his lousy sweaters. She was happy yesterday.
Bright bursts of light flickered behind her eyes. The sky slung overhead like a big blue canopy. Jocelyn lay surrounded by purple blooms with her legs propped up, her hands on her sternum and tried not to pass out.
Jeremy Marks was a good man, she thought. He made everything she wanted to do feel possible. Why didn’t she see it last year when he was still in love with her? She’d been so intent on landing Hudson Grace. Jocelyn shuddered at the memory now. Hudson was happy with Michael—like really happy. Love rises where it wants to. It isn’t in her control. Maybe if she stayed here long enough, Jeremy would come to the window and see her lying in the crocus bed and he’d come down to make sure she was all right.
Jocelyn closed her eyes and let herself drift into the dream. The stage door would bang open, slamming against the wall as Jeremy ran outside and dropped to his knees beside her. Jocelyn could see the tan cords he wore to work, the woolly knit sweater vest and his sleeves rolled up to the elbows. Mud from the crocus bed would stain his knees.
Someone tapped her cheek. “Jocelyn? Can you hear me?”
“Is she dead?”
She heard his voice far away.
“I have to tell you something,” she whispered. “I was going to tell you last night but I chickened out. I can’t breathe.”
“Of course she’s not dead. Don’t be ridiculous.”
“She says she can’t breathe. Should we call an ambulance?”
His face bent over hers, worried. He was so handsome. How did she not see it before? His was the face she liked best to look upon. She read that somewhere and it came back to her now. Whatever love was, it didn’t care about agendas or poor prospects or bank accounts.
“I’m sorry I said those terrible things to you.”
“She’s hit her head. She’s delirious.”
“Look what she’s done to the crocus bed. Those blooms will never fully recover. Jocelyn!”
The voice was no longer far away but right beside her and bellowing in her ear.
Jocelyn opened her eyes, blinking at the faces above her. Mrs. Murdoch, Lydia Rutherford, Mrs. Gurney, Reverend Carver and the local amateur actor, Mr. Raquette stood in a circle around her.
“What are you guys doing here?” she asked. “Where’s Jeremy?”
“Mr. Marks is eating spaghetti at the diner the last I saw him,” Mrs. Murdoch said in a chilly voice. “He is not expected to attend our meetings. It is Wednesday evening, Jocelyn. We are here to convene the regular meeting of the board of directors. More to the point—what are you doing lying in the theater’s crocus bed?”
“I—I must have passed out.” She touched her hand to her forehead to clear the fog in her brain. “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”
Lydia Rutherford instructed Mr. Raquette to help her sit up. “Put your head between your knees,” she said briskly.
“What does that do?”
“I don’t know. It’s what they do on television. Try it and see.”
Jocelyn bent over double, her hair sweeping the grass and rested her elbows on her knees. Oddly, it worked. Her breathing returned to normal and she felt calmer.
“I’m sorry. I came here looking for Jeremy and I must’ve fallen. I haven’t eaten today. You said Jeremy isn’t here? That’s a relief. I thought—I thought—”
Jocelyn burst into tears, alarming the theatrical society’s board of directors.
“She’s worried sick about her father, the poor thing,” murmured Lydia Rutherford. “Norman is in the hospital. I heard he had a heart attack.”
“No, no, it was not as severe as that, although he will have to take better care of himself,” Reverend Carver said. “Your father is going to be just fine, Jocelyn. I visited him this afternoon and he’s in good spirits. The doctor expects a full recovery.” The reverend patted her on the shoulder, sympathetically.
“I fear it is not her father upsetting her,” said Mr. Raquette ominously. “It is that cad of a fiancé. He leaves his girlfriend alone with her worry while he consumes a spaghetti dinner. I would not have expected this of our Mr. Marks. But every leopard has his spots.”
“You are talking nonsense,” boomed Mrs. Murdoch over Jocelyn’s head. “Jeremy is not Jocelyn’s fiancé. That engagement notice was a decoy. Wasn’t it Jocelyn?”
“Jocelyn, is this true?” Lydia Rutherford crouched beside her, getting her pretty pink pumps covered in mud.
Jocelyn raised her tear-stained eyes. “We tried to tell you at the hardware store but then you placed that big order as a wedding present ... I needed the money ... I’m sorry, Mrs. Rutherford. I’ll give you a refund.”
“Oh my dear, I don’t want a refund. Scout loves the baby products. If anything I’ll be ordering more from you. But why did you put that notice in the paper if it wasn’t true?”
“It wasn’t me,” Jocelyn said with as much force as she could muster. “Why doesn’t anyone believe me?”
“I believe you.”
All eyes turned to Mrs. Murdoch in astonishment.
“In fact, I am certain you did not place the classified ad because I know who did. I saw this individual stuff a piece of paper into Andrea’s camera case. I will not reveal this person’s name until I’ve spoken with Shelby Porter. I’ll leave it up to her to decide what to do with the information. I have a personal reason for keeping silent but suffice to say, Jocelyn is innocent.”
“Vindicated!” she shouted and
flopped back into the crocus bed.
“For God’s sake, get her out of there before we have nothing but stalks left!”
Mr. Raquette and Reverend Carver lifted Jocelyn to her feet. She was covered in mud and crushed purple blooms.
“Thank you, Mrs. Murdoch.” Jocelyn rubbed her forehead, smearing dirt across her face. “I’ll fix the crocus bed, I promise. I’m a better gardener than I am an actress. Ask Jeremy.” She colored and looked at her feet.
Mrs. Murdoch coughed discreetly into her hand. “Well, Jocelyn. I have some news that might cheer you up. I’ve had a call from a third party interested in investing in some local start-ups. Your name came up as the producer of organic bath products along with five other suppliers. The investment money would be funneled to you through your bank manager and dividends reported and paid out each year from your tax information. There is more to it than that but I would be happy to sit down with you and the bank manager to discuss the details if you are interested. What do you think about that?”
Her first thought was one of pure joy. A financial investor was the answer to a prayer! Her expenses would be covered in time to launch her new product line for the summer and fall.
And then Jocelyn came crashing down to earth. Jeremy had asked her if she would ever consider an investor. This couldn’t be a coincidence.
“Who is the investor?” If it was Jeremy scraping together his birthday money out of pity, Jocelyn was not interested. She already owed him enough for the hospital bill.
“It’s a small consortium with a mandate to re-invest in local owner-operated businesses. They believe grassroots entrepreneurship is the way forward to reducing unemployment in rural communities. They are very hands-off though and it is not a charity. You will be expected to provide detailed reports to the consortium manager.”
“And you’re sure I’m not the only one they’re investing in?”
“Absolutely. At least five other businesses met the criteria. The project is being streamlined through the bank. I was asked to provide a reference for you, which I was able to do, and gauge your interest. If you are not interested, they will choose another candidate.”
She broke into a wide smile. “Yes, I’m interested. Thank you, Mrs. Murdoch. This is great, really great news. I didn’t know how I was going to make it—you have no idea. Oh god, this is fantastic!”
Letitia Murdoch nodded her head and began to move away. “Well, that’s all settled. I’ll let this third party know you are on board and we’ll get the ball rolling. Jocelyn, I’m sorry to leave you but we must get to our meeting now. Will you be all right to get home?”
“I’ll be fine. Thanks again. And thank you for extending Jeremy’s health insurance to cover my dad’s hospital stay. I know you did it because you thought we were engaged and I promise I’ll pay it back, but it really eased my stress load.”
Lydia Rutherford exchanged puzzled glances with Reverend Carver and Mr. Raquette. “Jeremy’s salary doesn’t include health insurance. We included it in our original offer but he declined. He said he didn’t need it. He’s a young man and young men think they’re invincible. If he has changed his mind, he should let us know as soon as possible.”
Lydia Rutherford smiled encouragingly. “I don’t know what happened between you and Jeremy but I know what I saw in Noden’s the other day. You two were meant for each other. Talk to him. Don’t lose hope.”
The older woman gave Jocelyn a fast, hard hug and then hurried away after the rest of the board members. The sky was dipping into early evening and turning to ink. Jeremy still hadn’t come home and Jocelyn had a long ride ahead of her.
Hope was just another thing she couldn’t afford. If Jeremy didn’t have health insurance, then who paid for Norm’s medical treatment?
Chapter 14: Break Them Up
LETITIA MURDOCH sauntered down Main Street, enjoying the spring day and the gentle bustle of commerce and pedestrians. She skirted the town green, well aware the grass was too damp to walk upon even if the mayor hadn’t posted warning signs everywhere. The bookstore was her usual destination on Thursday afternoon but today she opted to walk to the town limits. She needed privacy to make the phone call she had spent a sleepless night rehearsing.
Kenneth Marks answered on the second ring. He had given her the number to his private line. Letitia tilted her head as though that would improve the reception for the cell phone. She could not get used to these gizmos. After this conversation, it was unlikely Kenneth Marks would welcome Letitia’s phone calls anymore. He’ll probably ask for his phone back. And cancel the funding for the theater.
“Letitia! Good to hear your voice. I’m happy to hear this business with Jocelyn Tate is resolved. I’m having the paperwork to transfer the investment money drawn up right now. I’m assuming that’s why you’re calling.”
“There’s another matter I should bring to your attention.” Letitia squeezed her eyes shut in anticipation of the inevitable explosion. “I would not consider Jocelyn and Jeremy finished by any stretch of the imagination. While I am sure they are a long way from getting married, it seems Jocelyn has fallen in love with your son. I saw her yesterday and she was in terrible state. She was looking for Jeremy.”
“She must have found out about his money. It’s the only explanation. Don’t try to convince me this girl of whom I have heard so much about—none of it flattering—is actually in love with my son.”
“To be fair, Kenneth, you are getting your information from a prejudiced source. Janice Feron is determined to upset you to the point of launching a lawsuit against the Gazette. She has an axe to grind and she’s using Jocelyn Tate as her whetstone. I’ll be the first to admit that Jocelyn is a gold digger. But I cannot in good conscience allow you to believe that’s what is going on here. This girl loves your son. I saw it with my own eyes. She was comatose in the crocus bed for heaven’s sake, waiting for him to come home! This is not the Jocelyn I know. She is unaware Jeremy has a trust fund. I have taken care to keep the information confidential. Kenneth, I must assume that Jocelyn’s feelings are genuine. I thought you should know.”
There was a frosty silence on the other end of the line.
“Is it your opinion that my son will ask this girl to marry him?”
“I believe if they talk it out—whatever their current trouble is—they will fall into each other’s arms as young people do, and recklessly decide to spend the rest of their lives together. They are young, they are in love and their fathers are opposed to the match. What could be more intoxicating than that?”
“Her father is opposed? What right does he have to object? His daughter would be lucky to get Jeremy—of all the bloody cheek.”
Letitia rolled her eyes. “According to Norm Tate, Jeremy is poor and has chosen to pursue an unreliable profession in live theater. If I were him, I would feel the same way. Norm thinks his daughter can do better. With her looks and the right introductions, Jocelyn Tate could marry very well indeed. But Kenneth, against all odds, she has fallen in love with your son.”
“This is ridiculous,” Kenneth Marks fumed in her ear. “I don’t care how pretty she is, she is not the sort of young woman that will fit into Jeremy’s life, and by that, I mean the life he will have when he receives his trust fund at age twenty-five.”
“Isn’t that why lawyers invented pre-nuptial agreements? Have one handy in case they spring an engagement on you and make her sign it. Problem solved.”
“Jeremy won’t allow it. He’s a stickler for doing the right thing.”
Kenneth was silent on the other end, no doubt thinking over his next move. Letitia was getting chilled standing in the middle of the sidewalk. She didn’t expect the call to take so long or she would have gone to the bakery for a cup of tea and a scone.
Her friend was a moral man and an honorable businessman, but ultimately, Kenneth Marks was a rich man. He was accustomed to getting his way.
“I have the solution,” Kenneth said. “Jeremy knows I’m providing t
he investment in this girl’s business. It’s quite simple. I will withdraw my offer if he pursues a personal relationship with her. In two years, when he turns twenty-five, he can do as he pleases. The trust fund was his mother’s money and entailed to him alone. We set it up the day he was born. I never imagined—neither of us did—that she wouldn’t be here to see him inherit. We thought we’d live forever.”
The silence that followed was long and heartfelt.
“Kenneth,” Letitia said kindly, “I wish you would trust your son’s judgment. He’s no fool. I think you are being too hard on Jocelyn.”
“Perhaps. But if I am, she’ll choose Jeremy and not the investment money. Two years is a long time to wait for a greedy young woman. We’ll see how long they last.”
He hung up before Letitia had a chance to say good-bye.
♥
ANDREA TAPPED the edge of her spoon against her milkshake glass. She didn’t know why she ordered a milkshake instead of coffee like Jocelyn did, but now that it was here, she had to drink it. Five hundred calories. No dinner again.
She was nervous and she had no reason to be nervous. She sucked on the straw with an air of disinterest. Jocelyn had wandered into the diner, looking for Jeremy and found Andrea instead. It was Jocelyn’s holier-than-thou attitude that grated on Andrea’s nerves. She acted like she’d never made a mistake in her life when the whole town knew that wasn’t true.
The waitress came and took their order. In a fit of nerves, Andrea went off her diet and ordered the clubhouse platter—easily the most calories one could inhale in a sitting. Bread, chicken, bacon, mayo and loads of fries all washed down with the chocolate milkshake because she couldn’t stop herself.
Jocelyn ordered coffee and a side of toast.
Love Rising: Spring (Mandrake Falls Series Romance Book 4) Page 14
