Life of the Party

by Kris Fletcher

  Annie shrugged, the motion almost lost inside her oversized jacket. “I was curious. I mean, even if he was never part of my life, he did contribute half of my genes. I wanted to see if there was anything there.”

  “And?” Bree prompted when it seemed Annie was done.

  “And . . . we had a nice lunch. He was easy to talk to.”

  “He always was a great storyteller,” Neenee said, and no one missed the double meaning beneath her words.

  “When it was done, I felt . . . I don’t know. Like maybe it would be possible to like him if I didn’t know what he’d done to all of you.”

  “He hurt you, too, honey.” Margie sounded more sober than she had in the last four years.

  “Yeah, in theory he hurt me. But it’s not the same as it was for you guys.”

  Jenna had to ask. “Are you going to see him again?”

  “To be decided.”

  “He might take the decision out of your hands.” Jenna scowled at the flames. “He showed up at the shop again a couple of weeks ago.”

  “Again?” Kyrie’s voice sharpened. “I thought you let him know he should never come back.”

  “I did. Obviously the man has a hearing problem.”

  “What did he want?” asked Bree.

  “No idea. Cole and his friend Ram were there, and they did a great imitation of the Great Wall of China.”

  Bree regarded her with narrowed eyes. “Wait a minute. You let a man stand up for you? You? Jenna? Mom, you’d better check her for a fever.”

  “What can I say? If I’d pushed them out of the way and shoved him out the door the way I wanted to, it would have upset all the nice customers who pay for Kyrie to fly out to see her honey.”

  It was a good comeback. It bought her a moment of laughter. But Jenna had to admit that she had rather enjoyed that feeling of having someone on her side. Other than her mom and sisters—and Margie, of course—it had been a long time since someone else had stood up for her.

  Though in fairness, Kendall had done that at first. Back when they were dating, even for a while after they got married. But by the end—nope. Sometimes she had imagined he was a crocodile, hiding in the reeds, waiting for her to say something the slightest bit silly or wrong, and then, snap! He was throwing her under the bus faster than a croc could lunge.

  She should have left him before the accident. She should never have stayed in that farce of a marriage. But he had paid the bills and he had—much as it pained her to admit—done some wonderful things for her family, making their lives a bit easier, so she had sucked it up and stayed.

  In some ways, hitting that patch of ice was the luckiest move she’d ever made.

  Not to mention that if she hadn’t landed at Kyrie’s, she never would have met Cole.

  “I think I need to talk to him,” Neenee said into the sudden silence.

  Jenna dropped her stick into the fire.

  “Mom?” Bree, of course, was the first to speak. “Why?”

  “To tell him to leave you girls alone.” Neenee tossed her hands in the air. “Duh.”

  If it hadn’t been so determinedly casual, it would have been easier to believe.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Kyrie said.

  Annie nodded. “Right. We’re big girls, Mom. We can handle this.”

  “Right,” Jenna said. “I mean, he’s a pain in the ass, but I think we’ve all dealt with other idiots. We have this down.”

  “I’d like to know why he’s doing it.” Margie’s words were so low that Jenna, bent over to retrieve her stick, almost missed them.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Bree asked. “He’s trying to redeem himself. Reestablish a relationship with us. Maybe he’s doing some sort of twelve-step program.”

  “Assholes Anonymous?” suggested Annie.

  “That’s part of it.” Margie crossed wide arms over her chest. “But remember, ladies, I’ve known him longer than any of you. My little brother has a sentimental side, no doubt about it. and I’m sure he feels bad about what he did. But he never does anything just because of feelings. Not even for himself. If he’s going to all this work, he has something up his sleeve, I guarantee it. And I, for one, would kind of like to know what it is before he decides to surprise us all again.”

  ***

  It was the first Thursday in October, one week before Cole was set to debate Paul Tadeson, and the heat was on. Everything had tripled since the primary. There were more volunteers, more phone calls, more questions, more decisions. The only things he had less of were sleep and sanity.

  And Jenna.

  She was deep in a project for a class, which meant she’d had to cut her hours on the race. She was still there at least two or three nights a week, but even then, they could never catch a moment alone. There was always someone around. Always something urgent. Always something that demanded his time and energy so that at the end of the night, all he could do was pray he could stay awake long enough to drive home. The one time he did head up to her apartment, he had passed out before he could even get out of his clothes.

  Of course, there had been a very fine awakening a few hours later, but still. Not his finest moment.

  So when he felt the buzz of an incoming text as he wrestled with his list of talking points for the debate, he almost ignored it. When he gave in and checked the phone, though, he was suddenly glad for his mother always telling him to avoid putting things off.

  Because the message was from Jenna.

  Hey. There’s a pissed-off constituent who needs to talk to you about that giant pothole on Pembroke. He’s threatening to put up a lifeguard station if someone doesn’t come up with a plan for fixing it. You need to go talk to him. Right now.

  Cole glanced around the crowded room. For the first time all day, his smile didn’t feel forced.

  You want to tell me where I could find this disgruntled constituent?

  Two doors down and up the stairs. Park around back if you must make people believe you’re doing something legitimate.

  Devious, aren’t you?

  Desperate. And Cole? We’re talking a really serious hole. So make sure you bring enough to fill it.

  He couldn’t quite hide the snort that escaped, but somehow he managed to turn it into a cough as he told Ram he was going to run out for a bit to talk to someone with a problem.

  “How big a problem? Need me to come along?”

  “No thanks. I think I can handle it.”

  Ram’s eyes took on a speculative gleam. Once again, Cole wondered at the wisdom of having his oldest friend work with him.

  “Don’t suppose you’d care to share the details of this problem. You know. So I can do some research for you.”

  “I think I’m good, thanks.”

  “Should we ask the constituent if she agrees with that assessment?”

  Cole was pretty sure there wasn’t a politician alive who could come up with a good answer for that one, so he gave Ram a quick wave and headed for the door, his friend’s soft chuckles trailing behind him.

  Two minutes later, his car suitably stashed at the back of the plaza—because damn it, even someone running for office was entitled to some privacy—he punched in the code for the alarm and let himself in. Jenna poked her head over the railing at the top of the stairs.

  “What took you so long?”

  He debated coming up with a smart remark, but when he made it to the top of the stairs, Jenna grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him into a far better use for his lips. And brain. And assorted other parts.

  “Your sister?” he managed as she hurried him toward the bedroom, which he had privately dubbed the Pleasure Palace.

  “Community choir practice. Won’t be home until ten.”

  “Remind me to double their funding if I’m elected.”

  “When you’re elected,�
� she said, pushing him onto the bed, and for the next while, every registered voter in town could have decided to move away and Cole wouldn’t have cared one whit.

  Half an hour or so later, when sanity and the ability to both breathe and talk had returned, he rolled onto his side and rubbed a strand of her hair between his fingers.

  “Hi,” he said. “I don’t think I had the chance to say it before.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Hello, Cole. How are you this fine evening?”

  “Much better than when I walked in here, I can tell you that.”

  “Mmmm, me too. That was definitely one of my better impulse moves.”

  “Agreed. How’s your project going? Will we see you in the office soon?”

  “End of the week. We have to meet tomorrow to go over our presentation, and after that I’m all yours.”

  “There’s a promise I like to hear.”

  “One I like making, too. How do things look? Have I missed anything major?”

  “We’re gearing up for next week. It feels kind of silly to do a whole debate for a small-town mayor gig, but—”

  “But it will get people interested and give them a different forum to see you and hear about your plans. Plus you’re younger and cuter than Tadeson. That’s going to help you.”

  “I didn’t know this was a beauty contest.”

  “It isn’t. On the other hand, being a major hunk sure didn’t hurt Justin Trudeau.”

  There was that.

  She nestled her head into the sweet spot between his shoulder and neck. “The real reason I dragged you up here tonight—”

  “Yeah, you really had to drag me.”

  She swatted at his chin. “Hush. You’re here to help me celebrate. I had an interview yesterday, for a funky little marketing firm, and they already asked me to do a second one. In person, this time.”

  “Hey, that’s great! Where is it?”

  “Brockport.”

  “Ah.”

  “You know it?”

  He shifted to pull her closer. “Yeah. One of my cousins went to school there. I visited him a couple of times. He married a girl he met there, and they had the wedding in the chapel on campus. That was—two, maybe three years ago?” No, that couldn’t be right. “Wait. It must have been about five years ago, because I was still working in the city, and I wasn’t sure I could get the time off to go. Pretty place.” And a solid two hours from Calypso Falls.

  All of a sudden, his affection for Brockport dropped dramatically.

  “When’s the interview?” he asked. Maybe it wouldn’t be for a while. After all, it was only October, and she wouldn’t be finished with classes until Christmas. Maybe they weren’t in a hurry to hire anyone. Or maybe they were in a big hurry, and wouldn’t be able to wait for her, and she would end up finding something else. Something closer.

  It probably wasn’t a good thing that he liked that scenario so much better. After all, Jenna had made it perfectly clear: this was a limited-time engagement. She was his only until the election. Maybe, if he was lucky, until she was done with school. But after that it was good-bye, Cole.

  It had been so easy to agree to those terms back then.

  “Two weeks from Monday.”

  “Good. You’ll have time to prepare, but not enough time to worry.”

  “Trust me, I can always find time to get a bit freaked out.” She ran one finger down the center of his chest. “I had this crazy idea . . .”

  To not go there after all? He could get behind that.

  “I thought maybe I’d go up the day before, on Sunday. Spend some time walking around and getting the feel of the place. My interview is bright and early Monday morning, so it would be good to not have to worry about leaving here at the butt crack of dawn.”

  “That doesn’t sound so strange to me.”

  “Well, the other part is, I was wondering if you would like to come with me.”

  Ah.

  “I know you’re insanely busy,” she said in a rush. “If you can’t do it, no problem, I completely understand. Really. But I thought, you know, it might be good for you to get away for a night. Clear your head and get some fresh air and, you know, have a mini break in there before you dive into the homestretch.”

  “Jenna . . .”

  He shouldn’t do it. She was right. He had four hundred things to do every day between now and the election, and the thought of taking off for a day—almost two, really, by the time they would get back—well, it was probably impossible.

  But saying no seemed equally impossible.

  “That’s a damned tempting offer.”

  “Well, yeah. Do you think I would make any other kind?” She pressed a kiss to his jaw. “And I’ll tell you right now, I’m not above using unfair means to make it even more tempting.”

  “I don’t know if I could live through any more of your attempts to convince me to agree with you.”

  “Yeah, but you would die a very happy man.”

  That he would.

  “But I know how much this election means to you, so I’ll play fair. This time.” She delivered a brisk pat to his groin. “The one thing I’ll say, though, is something my mother used to say to us when we were freaking out over how to juggle exams and chores and jobs and everything.”

  “What was that?”

  “She used to say, the more you think you don’t have time to take a break, the more you need one.”

  “Easy to say,” he began, but he had to stop, because in the back of his mind, another voice was sounding. “Actually,” he said, “I remember hearing Ram’s Nonny say something like that.”

  “To Ram? If that guy were any mellower, he’d be comatose.”

  “No. To me. Back in my New York days.”

  “Burned the candle at both ends, did you?”

  “Both ends, the middle, and with the wax that was left, I made another candle so I could finish reading contracts.”

  “How long were you on that treadmill?”

  “Too long. Five years.” He stretched a little just to rub his leg against hers. God, he loved the feel of her skin against his. “I finally got a clue the day I turned thirty.”

  “You woke up and saw that life was passing you by?”

  “More like I woke up and saw that I’d passed out on my desk after staying up until God knows when, hunting for creative screw-you clauses to add to a contract.”

  She rose up on one hand and stared down at him, her mouth slightly agape. “You?”

  “Not my finest hour, I agree.”

  “But that’s . . . seriously . . . whoa.” She dropped back down but continued to prop herself on her elbow to squint in his direction. “My mind is officially blown. I mean, it was hard enough imagining you working in the city for so long, but that . . . I would never have expected that from you.”

  “Neither did I.”

  “Was it like in that John Grisham book, where they sucked you into the giant firm and then manipulated you until you had no choice but to do what they wanted?”

  “Sorry. I went to work there because I had student loans up the ass. I figured I’d stay two, three years, pay down my debt, and then go be a real person.”

  “So what happened?”

  It really was impossible to think when she hovered above him like that. He kept trying to focus on her face, but her breasts hung down right around eye level. He couldn’t afford to look at them. He’d been out of the office too long already, and if he went another round with Jenna, he knew he’d be too wiped to fool anyone when he walked back in.

  “What happened?” He tugged her back down and tucked her against him. “Lots of things. Living there was even more expensive than I’d figured. That was a big one. A lot of the work was actually interesting, I was learning things, I made friends, all of a sudden it didn’t seem so impor
tant to be out by a certain date. Then I got assigned to another partner, a big step up, and I got caught up in the work and the track, and face it, when you’re pulling fourteen-hour days on a regular basis, who has time to step back and see where you’re headed?”

  “Okay,” she said softly. “I know how you can get so deep into something that you can’t see anything else.”

  He didn’t like that she’d had to go through something that would give her that experience—but he was deeply glad that she understood.

  “Anyway, I woke up, drooling all over my desk and my papers, and I started to think about how I could sneak out and go home long enough to shower and change. Because, oh yeah, I had spilled a cup of coffee when I fell asleep, and I was a walking stain. And then I looked down at the stains and thought, well, obviously I’m going to have to start keeping extra clothes at the office, because this is bound to happen again.”

  “And that’s when you woke up?”

  “Sad to say, it wasn’t. I didn’t understand what I was doing until I caught myself tossing shirts into an overnight bag. Then it was, hey, wait a minute.”

  “Did you go in and hand in your resignation, then and there?”

  He tweaked her nose. “Big fan of Disney movies, Jen?”

  “Bite me.”

  “Can’t. I have to get back to work. But to answer your question, no, not that day. However, I made myself leave at six that night.”

  “And spent the weekend drafting your letter.”

  “Uh . . . no. What I haven’t mentioned is that I was engaged back then.”

  Chapter Eleven

  If he hadn’t been pressed so close to her, he wouldn’t have noticed the fleeting stiffness of her muscles. “Ah. I didn’t know.”

  “Very few people did. See, I was so busy that we’d been engaged almost four months and I still hadn’t made time to tell my family.”

  “Maybe I’m a cynic, but to me that sounds more like you weren’t certain about her, rather than simply being too busy.”

  Funny, Meredith had said almost the same thing when she gave him back the ring. He knew it wasn’t true, but she hadn’t believed him.

  “Anyway, I left the office at a decent hour and spent the night thinking about what I really wanted.”