by Lyz Kelley
Bantner held out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Rachelle Clairemont.”
A second passed before she slid her hand into his. “Michael.”
A spark of laughter touched his eyes over the use of his first name. “Don’t let your past dictate your future, Rachelle. You’re still young. You can make a good life for yourself.”
She walked him to the door. “That’s what I’m trying to do, but sometimes it’s not easy.”
“The good things in life never are.” He winked, then gave his team member an all-clear pat on the arm before turning back. “You have my card. Let me know how you make out.”
She nodded, not trusting her voice. Slowly she closed the door. Dempsey trotted over and sniffed her feet.
Lifting him into her arms, she snuggled him close to feel the warmth of unconditional love. She inhaled a renewing breath, and prayed the current chapter of her life was finished.
“I think now I understand why my brother left you with me. He knew I would need you. If I ever see him again, remind me to thank him.”
Dempsey licked her from chin to nose.
“Thanks.” Appreciating how far both of them had come. “We need to decide what to do next.”
Thoughts of Jacob sneaked in, but she had to squash those hopes. She had lied and threatened him. He was gone.
A few months ago she might have believed she understood loneliness.
Today she knew she didn’t have the remotest idea back then.
The raw ache of loving someone and knowing they would never be back was agonizing. What was worse was knowing she had pushed him away—on purpose.
She needed a distraction.
The tin full of paintbrushes and paints sitting on the window ledge called to her.
The image of Jacob laughing filled her mind easily and vividly. She grabbed her sketch pad and pencil.
If she couldn’t have him, she would at least have a memory.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jacob closed his laptop and shoved away from his office desk to look out the window toward the baseball stadium. He loved the new office location. In the middle of the Gaslamp Quarter, the building had easy access to restaurants and shopping, and he loved being able to ride his bike to the office.
Not that he needed to work at the office.
He could work from home, like the programmers, but he wanted to build a place where everyone could hang out, collaborate.
In fact, he should be conferencing with his team right now. For the last few days nothing, not one idea had been generated.
“Want some coffee?” Ben asked, flopping down in one of his guest chairs.
“No. I’m good.”
Ben crossed his legs and leaned back in the chair. “You sure about that?”
Jacob shoved his hand in his pockets but didn’t turn around. He didn’t want to see Ben’s smug expression. “Leave it alone. I’m not going to discuss my trip to Colorado again.”
“Oh, I don’t need to know about your trip.” Ben tossed a newspaper on his desk. “I know what happened.”
Jacob glanced at the paper Ben tossed on his desk. The name Clairemont caught his eye, and he grabbed the newspaper.
Richard Clairemont indicted on additional charges. Jacob scanned the pages.
New evidence uncovered.
Arrest warrants issued.
Unknown informant leads to arrests.
Rachelle. He paced the length of his office. The drugs weren’t hers. I should have known she told the absolute truth when I asked.
But the additional charges didn’t cover the fact that she threated to have him arrested. He dropped the paper on the desk and glared at Ben. “You don’t know everything.”
“I bet I know more than you do.” Ben twisted Jacob’s computer around, typed in a web address, then turned the computer in his direction.
“So what? It’s a news briefing from the District Attorney about the arrests.”
“You’re not looking closely enough.” Ben pointed at the courthouse steps.
Half hidden behind a pillar was a familiar face. Jacob moved the replay button back a few frames and froze the image.
Ben pointed at the screen. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing? Rachelle looks relieved. Not scared, or frightened, or upset—but relieved.”
He started the video from the beginning. Indeed, she looked calm and relaxed, but she also looked thinner, almost gaunt, and the change worried him.
“So.” He closed the laptop lid. “Her being there doesn’t mean anything.”
“Right. You’re a storyteller. You study character and motivation. What would have prompted Rachelle to accuse you of selling drugs?”
“Nothing.” His anger blasted into the room before he could find the emotional off switch. “She knows I don’t do drugs. Even if she tried to convince the authorities the drugs she had were mine, she couldn’t prove I sold them to Larson...or anyone else, for that matter.”
“Exactly.” Ben’s expression told Jacob his brother had already gathered up the pieces, and none of them fit together. “Then why? Why would she threaten to tell the authorities? Think about it. What did you do when you found the prescription bottle in Larson’s desk?”
“You know I covered for him, but the circumstances were different.”
Ben crossed his arms. “Yeah, how so? You were protecting him.”
Jacob paced by the window, his steps going faster and faster. “There’s a difference. Rachelle threatened to tell them they were my drugs and have me arrested.”
“For a guy who’s smart, you’re sure being a stubborn dumbass. Rachelle wasn’t going to turn you in. She was carrying the evidence she needed to have her father convicted. You just happened to get in the way. The only thing Rachelle was doing was making sure you didn’t stick your altruistic nose in where it didn’t belong. You have a habit of helping people when it’s not your job.”
“I do not.”
Ben started pounding his chest and coughing and gagging with laughter.
“Okay. Maybe I do try to protect the people I care about.”
“Yeah, like Rachelle. She cares about you. She helped you with your presentation. She dropped everything to come to San Diego. She pitched in at the charity event to make sure it was successful. Do those things sound like someone who’d have you arrested?”
“You can’t convince me she wasn’t angry about the video game stunt. Having me arrested would have been sweet revenge.”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted the harshness. Rachelle wouldn’t do anything just for spite. She couldn’t. She’d been on the receiving end, and had too much empathy to do something spiteful.
He flopped down in the seat next to Ben. “Don’t say it.” He pulled his hands down his face. “I’m full of crap, and I know it.”
Ben swatted at the bottom of Jacob’s flip-flop.
“Hey, if it helps any, Ross thinks she was more hurt than mad, and he knows she wasn’t mad at you. She said so. She’d already figured out Larson was behind the whole thing.”
Jacob rolled his head on his neck. “Why are you taking her side?”
There went the boy-are-you-an-idiot laugh again. “I’m not taking her side. I’m always on your side. You deserve to be happy. And, admit it, Rachelle made you happy. You were different with her around.”
“Yeah? How so?”
“For one thing, you slowed down. You don’t slow down for anyone. With her you weren’t thinking and planning and doing stuff 24/7. Drew told me you hung out at lunch, and even told a few stories. When was the last time you did that?”
Jacob turned toward the window. “I can’t remember,” he muttered.
“What was that?”
Jacob took a long, stoic breath. “You heard me.”
“Yeah, I heard you, all right. So, are you just going to sit there?”
He shrugged. “She knows my number. She could have called. It’s been more than four weeks.” Twenty-nine days
and six hours, to be exact. “I’m sure she’s moved on.”
“Right. The same way you have. You’re stuck, like chocolate in peanut butter. You two go together, and you, dear brother, are as much in love as she is.”
“But I’ve learned my lesson. I can’t fix people. Larson taught me that.”
“You haven’t learned squat.” Ben got up and stopped when he got to the door. “Rachelle doesn’t need to be fixed or saved. Maybe what she needs is someone to be on her side for once. From what I’ve read, her father and brother never supported her.”
“I thought we weren’t talking about this anymore.” Jacob relocated to his desk chair and did his best to look busy, hoping Ben would leave.
“Want Chinese for lunch? Ross is coming to meet me. We can all go.”
He groaned inwardly. Ross and Ben were so gooey, huggy, gushy these days, especially since they finalized the paperwork to become foster parents. “I’m good. Drew and Sketch are stopping by later to go over some designs.”
“Will you call her, or what?”
“Ben.” He lowered his tone to emphasize the gruff warning.
“Okay. Okay.” He held up his hands. “I’ll drop the subject, but make sure you eat something today. Oh, and get out of the office. It’s a nice day.”
Jacob dropped his head to his desk.
“Okay. I’m going.”
Jacob held his breath, waiting to hear the door close. When he heard the click, he exhaled heavily and picked up his cell phone. After a pause, he looked up Rachelle’s number.
His fingers tightened around his phone as his throat knotted, and he tossed it on his open calendar.
The touch of her skin, the warmth of her kisses, her hair spread across his pillow...
He missed hearing her laugh. A laugh he heard only rarely.
Now he understood why.
“I thought I’d find you here.”
Jacob squinted into the sun. “Hey Drew. Sorry I missed our meeting. Did you and Sketch come up with anything?”
“No, man. Not yet, but we will.”
He nudged his bike helmet aside to fish an extra towel out of his backpack and tossed it at Drew. “Take a seat.”
Drew spread the orange- and green-striped towel on the soft white sand and flopped onto his back. “How’s the surf today?”
“Not bad. One dude bit it a few minutes ago, but he’s okay.” Jacob stretched back. “What’s up? And don’t give me some nonsense about how you’re here to catch some rays.”
“And neither are you. You never just sit. Sitting around is for sissies. Isn’t that what you’re always telling us?”
“Call this research.”
Drew’s smile was double the size it should have been. “Okay. If research is what you want to call it.” Drew brushed sand off his feet. “Sketch and I were talking. We were wondering if Rachelle might allow us to use a couple of her backdrop images.” Drew lifted his ball cap and turned it around backward.
“That green one was good.”
“Good? Naw. Her art is the bomb, man. Best art I’ve seen in awhile. Damn shame, Larson had to go and ruin it for everybody.”
“Her leaving wasn’t Larson’s fault.”
“When will you stop trying to protect him? He did the epic belly flop all on his own, and took Etch with him.”
“Etch will be fine. She’s getting clean, and I promised her a job once she gets out, as long as she signs up for random drug testing.”
“Yeah, Etch will be fine, but I’m talking about you.”
Jacob’s eyes locked on Drew. “What about me?”
“You’ve been moping about this place for over a month. Why don’t you call your pilot buddy and book it to Colorado?”
“Don’t you start. Ben’s already been on my case today.”
“Good.”
Jacob dug his toes into the sand, hoping the cooling grains would ease away his growing frustration.
Drew rocked him sideways with a nudge. “Seriously, man. Rachelle’s a helluva woman. And her artwork. What I wouldn’t give to have her on the team.”
Jacob lifted his phone out of his nylon bag. “You think what I showed you before was good? Check this out.” He turned his phone sideways for Drew to see. His long-time friend shielded the screen to see the images. “These are gnarly. Are they new?”
“I got these a couple of days ago.”
“There’s more?” Drew accepted Jacob’s phone and right-swiped through the images. “Amazing. If you don’t want her, how about I ask her out?”
Jacob grabbed for his bike helmet, ready to swing, then stopped. What was up with that? If he didn’t have feelings for Rachelle, why did Drew’s question make him want to clock the guy?
He leaned back and let the sun soak into his skin, but he could swear he caught a whiff of her scent. He scanned the beach...but no, she wasn’t there. Just some other women walking by. Drew suddenly became distracted.
“Why don’t you go chase bikinis for a while and leave me alone?”
“I’m not going until you promise to set things right.” Drew rocked back, stretching his muscles. “Why don’t you invite her out here for a proper vacation?”
The idea pumped him full of oxygen before deflating. “Not a chance. You and Sketch will kidnap her and put her in a dark room and make her draw for hours.”
“Hey, it’s not torture if it’s what she loves doing.”
Creating art is what she loves.
He could set her up, help her get started. Heck, he could even hire her. Damn it. There I go again, barging in to help.
He had to learn how to be in someone’s life without helping, or worse, trying to fix everything. Rachelle nailed it when she said he couldn’t help her—that all he should or could offer her was respect.
He respected Rachelle, and loved her even more.
“Fine. I’ll text her and see if she wants to do some work for us.”
Drew wrapped his arms around his shins, an agitation twisting up his face. “That’s why we’re both still single, dude.”
“What? I said I would text.”
“My point. She won’t respond.”
“You don’t know that.” But, his buddy was right. “Everyone texts these days.”
“Butt cheeks, you’re missing my point.”
“I didn’t miss squat. I get what you’re saying.”
“You’ll go see her, right?”
Jacob let his hair flop and blow across his face. “Maybe.”
Drew’s arm shot out and toppled him over into the sand, and he laughed when Jacob tossed sand over his shoulder.
“Stop your nagging and get out of here. Let me enjoy the sun.”
What was up with everyone? His cell phone buzzed and Sketch’s text popped up. “Going out with a coupla friends. Want to join us?”
He groaned. “Now Sketch is trying to set me up.”
“Oh, yeah, man. I forgot to warn you.”
Jacob rolled to his feet. “You’re right. I need to get out of here for a while.” He picked up his blanket and made sure to shake it downwind.
“That’s my man.”
“I was thinking Hawaii.” He laughed at Drew’s disappointment. “Just kidding.”
“If you want some company, let me know. I heard the bike trails at the ski resorts are scorching.”
That’s all he needed—a giant kid to babysit.
On second thought.
He was through trying to protect those he loved.
Drew was on his own. Rachelle had helped him see not everyone could, or should, be saved. People had to want to be saved. While others wanted to figure out the right path for themselves.
She taught him a good lesson, and he was better for it.
He’d be an even a better man if she would just return his darn texts.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Rachelle watched the second hand circle the clock face on the wall.
Mr. and Mrs. Sutter should have arrived five minutes ago. Bec
ause of their tardiness, Rachelle suspected the couple only wanted the free vacation and weren’t interested in buying a timeshare property.
It was a job, and she was grateful to have one, even if she hated being behind a desk ten hours a day. The property company out of Chicago loved her, especially since she was local and could help visiting tourists envision Colorado’s four seasons, show them around town, and make them feel at home.
In the past month, Elkridge had come alive.
Others might not have noticed, but she had. Or maybe she had changed.
The sun streamed in through the blinds and landed on her desk. The blue sky with fluffy white clouds floating by made her daydream. She imagined jumping on one of those clouds and riding off to find her dreamland of unicorns and magical fairies and dragons.
A welling softness came with the image of Sarah in her princess dress and a cupcake in her hand.
She fished her sketchbook out of her purse and opened it to the last sketched page, Jacob’s half-finished face.
What are you doing? She chided her heart for thinking there was even a hope he might one day come strolling into the office and sweep her off her feet.
She tapped the pencil on the pad of paper, annoyed with herself for giving the time of day to such irrational thoughts.
Why would he come back? She lied to him.
She hurt him on purpose.
When the sales office door opened, she stood and smoothed her skirt down and grabbed her marketing portfolio.
“Oh.” Her surprise lifted then deflated.
Tony Gaccione walked in carrying a ginormous pink, purple, and white bouquet. “Rachelle. I have a delivery for you.”
She studied the arrangement, then her desk calendar. “Hey, Tony. I thought Blooms swapped out the waiting room arrangement on Mondays.”
“That’s what the contract says, but these are for you. We got the wire order this morning.”
She accepted the foot-tall vase. “There’s no card. Who are they from?”
