He was right—she had to make up her mind what she wanted, and how to go about getting it, but that wasn’t going to happen overnight. Nor was she going to be swayed by one email. He had hurt her, hurt her badly, lied to her, and that, for now, was still in her thoughts. She took one last perusal in the mirror, fixed her make-up with another dab and finally headed to the stairs.
As she stood at the top of the landing, the gaiety of the gathering didn’t match her mood, and she hesitated before descending. Then, one step at a time, she was sucked into the party, forced into the holiday season atmosphere. She certainly needed a drink.
As she meandered over to the mixologist at the impromptu bar, Carrie caught Diana’s gaze—which slid to a corner where Charles Langtry stood. Carrie let herself give Charles a peremptory glance before she followed that with a smile to the bartender. “Jim and Ginger please.”
“Sorry?” he queried.
“Jim Beam rye and ginger ale please. On the rocks.”
The bartender nodded his understanding before turning to do the mix just as Tom Shawcross sidled over to her.
“You’ve been a bit down, we’ve noticed. Going to try to enjoy yourself tonight?”
“Going to try,” she confirmed.
“Charles is here. With a friend.” His head tilted in the direction in which her ex-boyfriend was located. “Will it upset you?”
She studied Tom for a moment. His look was benevolent, meaning well. But then, Charles was here in the room and Tom, or Diana, had invited him, so what could be done now?
“He won’t bother me, Tom. He never has. It was me who broke up with him, remember?”
“Ah, yes.” Her friend handed his glass to the mixologist for a refill as the other man slid Carrie her drink across the bar. “Well,” he went on. “No punch ups tonight then. He’s with a new girl.”
“So I see. And by the way, I was never a ‘girl,’ Tom. Maybe that was the problem.” She gave her host a small smile, leaning back against the bar to take a slow sip of the drink as ice tried to force its way into her mouth. She gulped. As her gaze met Charles’ she took in his companion. About Paige’s age, maybe a spit older. Legs as long as a racehorse, and hair as golden as a summer day. And dressed in the shortest pink baby doll dress Carrie had ever seen. A Barbie doll. A flamingo. A perfect flamingo, right here in the Berkshires.
And then she laughed.
Chapter Seventeen
Jake leaned forward to count out some bills to the taxi driver before opening the door into a buffeting wind. Leaves flew by as if they were late for appointments. He flipped up the collar of his new coat and tucked in his muffler as some extra protection against the blast. Glancing up at the building, he hoisted his overnight bag onto his shoulder, and checked the address before proceeding up the steps into the shelter of the foyer. A smell of disinfectant and damp greeted him as he took in the battery of brass mailboxes, some hanging invitingly open, and found the one for Bennett. He jabbed the button beneath it several times until a cranky voice came over the intercom.
“You only have to ring once, Jake!”
He smiled to himself. Paige had no doubt spied his arrival from an upstairs window and knew it was him. As the door buzzed its release, he shouldered it open to a flight of steps and skipped them two at a time before coming to the first floor and apartment one-ten. The door opened as if by magic, but it wasn’t Paige standing there.
A leggy blonde extended her hand with a “Hey, how you doin’?” that made him feel, literally, as if he were home. After shaking his hand, she showed him in to their small sitting room.
“Let me take your coat, dang northern weather. And just leave your bag there. Paige is having a late day. She’s just dressing. Can I get you something? Coffee perhaps? I’m Deirdre, by the way, Paige’s roommate.”
“Oh. Jake Ryder.” He plopped his bag down and started to extend his hand again, then remembered he and Deirdre had already shook and let it drop. He slipped off his coat and muffler and handed them to her to hang in the closet by the door.
Paige had been right, though—Deirdre was a good-looking woman. Her soft cashmere top caressed neat little breasts and came down to a pair of jeans showing off the rest of her figure. A little, turned-up nose gave her a mischievous air combined with the sky blue eyes, and her long, blonde hair was tied back loosely with a ribbon. Her whole demeanor spoke of southern hospitality, a big Texas welcome. It almost made Jake laugh, and he wondered what Paige had told Deirdre about him, whether she had told this woman he was meant to be her future husband. Somehow, he guessed not; he figured that joke was kept for him.
“So, would you like coffee?” Her soft drawl brought him back to the present.
“Uh. No, not right now. But thanks.”
“Jeez, you look fantastic.” Paige’s voice burst into the room. “Your hair’s grown in!”
Jake, just about to sit down, jumped back to his feet, and stood there somewhat awkwardly. He gazed at Paige standing in the door to her bedroom and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, guess it has. Well, you mustn’t have noticed it last time. It’s almost three weeks since you saw me, Paige,” he pointed out.
“So it is. And you were wearing your Stetson.”
She came forward, arms extended to embrace him, as if to claim him, and he dipped down to her for a peremptory exchange of kisses, though she did not let go. She stood smiling up at him.
“Gosh, fancy you being in Philly, Jake. You look so out of place.”
At this, Deirdre laughed. “Well, you can take the man out of Texas, but, you know… Anyway, I best be heading off to the library, got a mess of studying to do.” She grabbed a coat from one of the hooks by the door and shoved it on, throwing a scarf about her neck and collecting a satchel of books. “Nice to meet ya, Jake. See you down home sometime, hey?”
“Yeah. Sure. Nice to meet ya.” He stood quietly while she went out, and then grimaced at Paige. “So, that’s who you’d have me married off to, huh? Somehow, I don’t think so.”
Paige didn’t reply, trying to hide a smile. “How did the horse buying go? Lancaster, did you say?”
“Yeah. Stallion wasn’t quite what I wanted. Funny place, though. Interesting, those Amish. All them folks drivin’ around in buggies. It’s sort of like some giant movie set. Or steppin’ back to another time. Have you been?”
“Not for years. But we see them sometimes in town here, selling vegetables and stuff. They strut around talking on their cell phones, which seems somewhat incongruous. Anyway, I think Mother set a book there once or something and dragged me along. As she does.”
“How is Carrie?” He wondered for a moment if he should ask, but Paige looked so relaxed, so…what was it? Different somehow. More at peace with herself.
She strolled back toward a small kitchen area off the main room, and Jake took this as his cue to sink into one of the sofas. The room was a typical student apartment. It could have been almost anywhere, although this one had been better furnished than most. Actual paintings were hung on the wall rather than posters, and the comfort of the sofa told him it hadn’t been a hand-me-down, but rather purchased new.
Paige fussed with two mugs and came back with coffee.
“Did you find us all right?” she asked, handing him his mug, obviously avoiding the subject of her mother.
“Yeah, I did what you told me to do. Made sense to hand the car back in at Philly airport and come by taxi. Especially as I’m flying out of Newark tomorrow night. Easier to catch the train up really.”
“Why Newark?” Plopping herself down into an armchair catty-cornered to him, Paige blew over the top of her mug before taking a tentative sip and, apparently deciding it was too hot, lowered it between her hands for warmth.
“Cheap flight. And since Dad is looking for ways to save money while paying off my mother—”
“They finally divorced?” She picked some fluff off her sweater and flicked it aside.
Jake stared at her until she raised her ga
ze to him. “You want to discuss that?” he offered.
“Not right now. Maybe later.”
He ran his gaze over her, remembering how very beautiful she was, remembering the moment he got into that car so many months ago. Her rich brown hair was slightly disheveled from sleep now, but her face had a glow, the cupid’s bow lips suppressing a smile beneath her huge eyes. His heart fluttered.
“In Bandera… I tried to get you to talk back in Bandera, but it was so rushed, that day, and…” He put the coffee mug down on the floor. “Did you ever realize it’s often you who phones me, Paige?” He probed her with an inquisitive nod. “I just wondered, why? I mean, it had nothing to do really with Carrie and Dad, did it? And I don’t think you were really that concerned for my health after the fire an’ all. Were you?”
Paige continued to hold her coffee as if it were utterly important she not let it go.
He grimaced. “Most gals would’ve had a one night stand, or a vacation romance, whatever the hell you want to call what went on back in April, and then they’d’ve gone on back home and forgotten about it. Maybe said the occasional ‘hi’ on Facebook, sent a text now and then, whatever. But you, you actually phoned me, you kept it going. I mean, I understand I did a lot of the calling, but recently, you know, it’s been you. I just wanted to know why?”
“You began phoning me as I recall. Maybe I just wanted to talk to someone who wasn’t…here.” There was a note of petulance in her voice. “Anyway, did you come all this way for that?” Her voice took on the edge he remembered so well, the defensiveness, the wariness.
He ran his hand over his face and studied her for another moment. “I don’t know whether I would’ve come all this way if I hadn’t of had to go to Lancaster. I can’t answer that to be truthful. Probably not, after seeing you in Bandera.” When she said nothing he continued, “But I would’ve asked you the same question sooner or later. On the phone if not in person. Long distance relationships—whatever their nature—friendship, lovers, whathaveyou—they don’t usually work. And, you know, there’s Steven. I understand about Steven, that you’re probably not ready for another relationship. I got all that. And I understand, well, I understand there’s a difference between a woman in grad school and a rancher’s son from—”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake! Don’t give me that bit of crap, please. My mother, bless her, is in love with your father. She doesn’t see the difference, as much and as often as I’ve pointed it out to her…”
“So, you did point it out. You do see the difference,” he pressed.
“I see a difference, but it doesn’t mean I attach any significance to it. Ray was just so different from anyone my mother had dated in the previous twenty odd years. That’s all.” Paige took a gulp of coffee. “This is ridiculous. Are you asking me what my intentions are? Is that what you want to know? Were you expecting me to say, ‘you had me from hello?’”
Jake threw his head back and laughed. He ran a hand over his face as he gazed at her.
Paige’s mouth puckered in contemplation. “We can’t be just friends then?”
“That’s usually the guy’s line, isn’t it? Friends with benefits?”
“Oh, Lord. How are you, anyway? I didn’t even ask. What happened about your confession? What happened about your stab wound? I see no bandage, which is good. You haven’t told me anything.”
“Well, obviously I’m fine, otherwise I wouldn’t be sittin’ here. As for the drug charges, my lawyer got a plea bargain or whatever it’s called for turning state’s evidence. I’ll have a suspended sentence and a fine. Ty’ll be arraigned on several counts, including attempted arson. That’s it.” He didn’t let his gaze leave her, wouldn’t be sidetracked from his mission. “You gonna finish the other conversation or we gonna dance ’round that all night?”
“‘All night?’”
He tried unsuccessfully to stop himself from smiling. “Well, I thought I could crash on the floor or something.”
“‘Or something?’” She slammed her cup onto the small table by her side. “You’re incredibly good-looking. Has anyone ever told you that?”
“Why is it I hear a ‘but’ coming?” He stood suddenly and moved to the window overlooking the street. Down below, dry leaves were whipping around in mini twisters as bundled students hurried to warm places in the December cold. “Boy, when I got in that car that day and saw you, I thought I’d got in some vehicle bound for heaven.”
“Oh, what crap, Jake, for heaven’s sake. Stop being so poetic and silly. Grow up.” She picked absently at a hang nail. “You thought no such thing. If anything, you wondered why we picked you up, two women alone. And you were headed home from Iraq, so I would think your mind was on anything—maybe not,” she cut herself off. “I suppose you were thinking about sex after all those months. Maybe that’s it, Jake. After so long away from women, you just fell for the first half-decent looking woman you met.”
“You’re more than half-way good-lookin’ Paige, and you damn well know it. And there’s more to it than that. Maybe when they say opposites attract it’s true.” He flicked the curtain, leaving his hand in a fist. “I may have been an imbecile ’bout some things, certainly ’bout the whole Robbie matter, and you may well think me poetic and silly, but I know my own dang feelings. What I don’t know are yours.” He remained by the window, the diffused light coming through the sheer curtains. “So, you gonna answer my question then?”
“You want to know if I’m really in love with you, is that it?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Are you going to ask me to stop phoning you if I say no?”
“Not sure.”
“Well, that’s my answer, too. ‘Not sure.’” She waited, looking across at him. “Right now, I could fall into bed with you, but it would be like incest I think. I don’t know. I know it isn’t incest, but it would feel like it. Don’t you think?”
“No.”
“Okay. I see you as that friend with benefits, then. I don’t know what my feelings are beyond that. I’m numb. It’s probably still too soon for me to think of having another relationship. I don’t want to hurt you, so if you think you’re headed that way please let me know and I’ll never darken your door again. Or whatever. I don’t know—as I told you—what I want to do with the law degree—I thought of ditching it as you know, but have decided it’s probably worth having for the moment. Beyond that, I have no idea where I want to be or who with. I told you all that, more or less, in Bandera. As for Steven, I look back on him now—on us—and I’m confused. I know I loved him, and I know he loved me, and I know if he lived we would’ve married, and I’d never have had second thoughts about it. Maybe the mind has a way of compensating for loss I haven’t quite figured out as yet. But whatever I felt for him and whatever I feel for you, they’re so different… They may both be ‘love’ but, really, I just don’t know.” She stopped and her gaze slid to him askance. “I mean, do you really want a relationship with a New York lady lawyer?”
“Would you ever want a relationship with a…an uneducated rancher’s son?” he countered.
“First off, you’re not uneducated. Unschooled perhaps, but not uneducated. Second…I don’t know what second is. If you’re asking me what I see in you, I see someone who is completely honest, someone who is so unlike Steven I know for sure I’m not trying to replace him, someone who is unlike any other man I’ve ever met because you’re…you’re…I don’t know quite how to describe it. You’re basic. You’re an innocent. You’re ‘what you see is what you get.’ It’s probably the same damn things my mother sees in Ray. I like talking to you—it gets me away from life here, it makes a change. And, strange as it may seem to you, I did enjoy your company. Well, of course I did. Most of the time we were together, we were having sex—and it was pretty damn good.”
Jake stood there, their gazes locked on each other, a quiet stretching punctuated only by car horns and laughter from the street below. “Well, I guess it’s gonna have to be ‘wa
it and see’ and I leave here none the wiser, huh, Paige?”
“I wouldn’t say that. You’re a little bit wiser, even if you haven’t got a clear answer. Look…” She sighed, getting to her feet, a weary note now evident. “I have to get back to the books. Stay by all means. I’ll cook you dinner later, and you can spend the night, but I’d like you to do me one favor.”
“Oh? What’s that?” His brow crinkled with suspicion.
“If you’re flying from Newark in the evening, I’d like you to get up and go see my mother in New York tomorrow morning. I’ll be happy to pay for the train ticket if you’re short but… Try to talk some sense into her, will you?”
****
Jake got out of the subway at the Museum of Natural History, a cold blast of frosted air burning his face. As Paige had directed, he faced Central Park, trees shaking their dismay at the wintry weather. “If you face the park,” she had said, “then to your left is north and to your right, south.”
He headed north and found the building, just as she had described, an impressive portico jutting out into the street, giving pedestrians temporary relief from the elements. A white-gloved, uniformed doorman swung open a heavy bronze inlaid door before Jake was faced with another attendant.
“I’m here to see Ms. Carrie Bennett, please.”
“Yes, sir, go right on up.” The man pointed toward two impressive elevators, all etched glass and brass.
Relieved of his overnight bag in a locker in Penn Station, Jake probably did look like he belonged here. Yet something wasn’t right. He stopped in confusion, wondering if Paige had changed her mind and phoned her mother ahead to warn her of his visit. She had told him the doorman would call upstairs to ask Carrie if it was all right to send him up, and he would certainly know then whether he was welcome or not. But now, sent straight up, he was puzzled by the whole procedure.
The elevator opened, a hint of pine greeting him from the Christmas wreath within, and he pushed the button for fourteen and waited, nerves jangling.
Dances of the Heart Page 26
