Jack Part One and Two (The Elite)

by KB Winters

“I’m sure Tad from IT loves that,” I countered before scooting my chair to the left and out of the danger zone. Noah knew I was single. Hell, everyone in the office knew. The tan lines on my ring finger didn’t help. Everyone loved a scandal and while no one—not even Noah—knew what had happened, my broken engagement was gossip fodder regardless. Not that anyone said anything to my face. But I’d heard the whispers. Seen the pitying looks.

  I could only imagine how much worse it was going to get once I started showing. As it was, my stomach was easily concealed with loose-fitting tops and the black jacket I liked to wear around the office.

  “There,” Noah said, straightening up.

  The computer screens went black. “All right, but if Tad comes to me on Monday, asking what I clicked on, I’m sending him your way.”

  “Fair enough.” Noah chuckled. “All right, let’s get out of here.”

  I grabbed my jacket and turned away from Noah before shrugging into it. I buttoned up, absently wondering how much longer I’d be able to wear it. I’d purchased a brand-new wardrobe a few months ago, right after the breakup. Retail therapy. Ironically, none of the beautiful pieces were going to be wearable much longer. All I could hope was I’d get my pre-pregnancy body back at some point in the future and they wouldn’t all waste away in the back of my closet. Then again, how much sense did it make to wear a three-hundred-dollar pant suit when it was just going to end up covered in baby puke?

  Noah picked a small bar a few blocks from the office. A quiet little spot without the flash and drama of some of the bars on the same street. I was grateful. Loud pounding music and sweaty dance floors had never been my scene, but especially not now. Apparently, they weren’t Noah’s thing either.

  He ordered for us and while he raised an eyebrow at my request for a cranberry club soda, he didn’t say anything. We toasted to the freaking weekend and made small talk for twenty minutes. Mostly revolving around the office, co-workers, his recent trip to New York and the differences between LA and New York City.

  Eventually, he changed the conversation around to something that hit a little closer to home. “How’s the rental treating you?” He’d been renting me a quaint beach house since I decided that living out of a suitcase in a hotel room wasn’t a long-term strategy. It was a beautiful house and he charged me far less that the house was worth.

  I finished my sip and nodded. “I actually wanted to talk to you about that.”

  He winced. “Don’t tell me the pipes are acting crazy again?”

  “No. Not at all. The place is perfect.” I sipped my drink. “But it looks like my stay is going to be a little shorter than I expected and I don’t want to leave you in the lurch.”

  Noah tilted his head and swirled the amber contents of his rocks glass. “You and your ex getting back together?”

  For whatever reason, my eyes flew to my left hand and the familiar pit in my stomach clenched at the sight of the tan lines around my finger. “No,” I replied, shaking my head. “But I guess you could say I got the house in the breakup.”

  “Aha.” Noah nodded and from the look on his handsome face, I wondered if he regretted asking. It wasn’t like him to pry. “Well, if you want my two cents, he’s an idiot for letting you get away.”

  Blood rushed to my cheeks and I ducked my chin. “That’s sweet.”

  Noah brushed his hand over mine, resting on the bar. I glanced up at him and met his intense stare. I hadn’t quite figured out how to read him. He smiled and the warmth returned to his expression. “You just let me know what you need, Holly. Don’t worry about the house. It’s yours as long as you need it and when you’re ready to leave, give me a call and I’ll have a crew over to help you pack up if you need.”

  I returned his easy smile. “Thank you, Noah.”

  “Anything for you.”

  The pit in my stomach loosened slightly and a flutter of something new replaced it as I glanced down and saw Noah’s hand still resting on mine.

  ****

  Saturday morning I woke up early, snapped Hunter’s leash on, and headed over to the house I’d purchased with Jack all those months ago. I hadn’t been back since the night I left and with every mile, my stomach clenched a little tighter. It was time to move on. Each small step was necessary for me to regain control of my life.

  Hunter whined in the front seat when we got closer, his tail swishing over the center console as he stared out the passenger window. My heart sank at his reaction. He thought we were going to see Jack and Princess. Tears welled in my eyes and I reached over to pat him on the head. “You’re stuck with me, pal.”

  He glanced over but then went right back to staring expectantly out the window.

  By the time I put the car in park, tears were streaming down my cheeks. I killed the engine and laid my head back, exhaling.

  Hunter pawed at the door and I heaved myself from the car, leaving the door open so he could follow me out, and then we went up the front steps. I opened the door and he darted ahead of me, nearly taking my legs out from underneath me on the way. He raced around only to circle back to me with a puzzled look on his face.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, sinking down into a deep squat. I wrapped my arms around his thick neck and held him close as fresh tears slid down my cheeks.

  Hunter seemed to understand. He relaxed into me and let me hold him without whining for what felt like forever. When I finally found the strength, I pushed up to my feet and continued through the house. It was all exactly as I’d left it. Jack hadn’t moved a single thing out of place. There wasn’t even a speck of dust on the tables and when I made it to the kitchen, I discovered why. A stack of papers from the cleaning company were laid out, describing the tasks completed. I cringed. I’d forgotten to cancel the once monthly cleaning service.

  “A CPA who doesn’t even monitor her own credit card accounts,” I mumbled to myself as I leafed through the pages. I pushed them aside and went further into the kitchen. The fridge was empty except for a couple of water bottles. The cupboards held the dishes and even a few unopened boxes of cereal and crackers. Everything was just as it was before I left.

  I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but somehow, seeing everything so neat and organized made me feel worse. I looked through the drawers next, not looking for anything in particular, but stopped cold when I opened the drawer nearest the fridge and found a stack of bridal magazines staring back at me. Jack had obviously gathered up the glossy-paged mags and stuck them in the catch-all drawer. I wondered what he thought about when he rounded them up. Had he flipped through them? Had he felt regret? Remorse? Anything at all?

  I slammed the drawer shut only to yank it back open a second later. I grabbed the magazines and stormed over to the pantry. I chucked the whole stack of them into the recycling bin and slammed the lid shut. My fingers itched, wanting to drag them back out and tear and shred and crumple. It was stupid. I knew it even as I reached into the bin and grabbed the first one. I carried it out to the kitchen island, staring at the beautiful bride on the cover. She was wearing an impeccable dress, cream chiffon with delicate, sheer cap sleeves and breathtaking bead work. Her long, dark hair was pulled away from her face, probably to highlight the ridiculous amounts of diamonds strung around her neck and dangling at her ears.

  It was her smile that did me in. In reality, I knew she was a model. Some woman paid to play the part of starry-eyed bride for the day. But I didn’t care. The glint in her eyes and perfect makeup and flowing bouquet were all it took to push me over the edge.

  I tore.

  I ripped.

  I screamed.

  I cried.

  I didn’t stop until every last page of the magazine was reduced to confetti all over the kitchen counter and floors. Each piece was shredded into a hundred tinier pieces until there was nothing left of the woman on the cover or any of the contents of the thick magazine.

  I had half a dozen papercuts, my eyes were swollen with tears, and my hands shook as the rage and anger and
despair coursed through me.

  When there was nothing left but the spine and the pieces, I sank to the floor, surrounded by the destruction and sobbed. Somewhat subconsciously, I reached into the pocket of my jeans and pulled out my cell phone. I swiped away my tears long enough so I could see as I found Carly’s number and pressed Call.

  She answered on the second ring. “Hey, Holly! How ya feeling, girl?”

  I sniffled loudly. “I’m—um—not so good. Can you—if you’re free—I’m at the house…I just can’t be alone right now.”

  “I’m on my way! Stay there!” Carly said, her voice flooded with concern.

  I nodded and laid my head back against the cupboards. I wasn’t going anywhere.

  Chapter Three

  Holly

  Carly came through the door minutes after my frantic, tear-fueled phone call. Hunter ran, barking his head off, to greet her and she appeared in the kitchen half a minute later, her eyes wide and concerned. “Holly, honey, what’s the…” Her words trailed off as she looked around me at the tiny pieces of the magazine. She sank down beside me and draped an arm over my shoulders. My head slid down to rest on her shoulder. “You wanna talk about it?”

  I sucked in a ragged breath. “I thought I was okay,” I started, stopping to laugh at how idiotic the statement seemed. Okay people don’t viciously attack innocent magazines. Then again, I supposed it could have been worse. I could have started chucking the pricey dishes I’d insisted we buy when we returned home.

  “Honey, you don’t have to be okay,” Carly replied. “No one expects you to bounce back from such a breakup and be totally fine. Why are you putting that pressure on yourself?”

  “I have to be okay, Carly. I have to be strong.” I drew in another shaky breath and raked my hand through my hair. I turned to meet Carly’s eyes. She was one of my best friends. She would understand. And damn it, I needed to tell someone. “I’m pregnant.”

  Her eyes went wide but she recovered like a champ and smiled. “You are? Oh wow!”

  A dry laugh slipped through my lips. “Wow is right.”

  Carly twisted so we were facing one another and she watched my expression carefully. “Does Jack know?”

  I shook my head. “No one knows.”

  She looked down at her folded hands. “Well, that explains a few things…”

  “Am I getting fat?” I asked, trying to make a joke but it fell flat.

  Carly shook her head. “You look beautiful, Holl. Always. I just mean why you’re putting so much pressure on yourself to grin and bear everything. You don’t even talk about the breakup or Jack. I was afraid you were burying your feelings because you didn’t want to deal with them. Now at least I understand why.”

  I nodded slowly. “I don’t have time to sit around and feel sorry for myself. I have to get it together because in about six months it’s not just going to be about me anymore.”

  “Okay.” Carly glanced around the floor where we sat. “But can you see that maybe…just maybe…keeping it all inside isn’t exactly the best strategy?”

  I smiled and wiped my nose on my sleeve. My eyes still felt puffy and strange but I’d stopped crying. “You mean this isn’t healthy?” I teased lightly.

  Carly grinned. “Probably not…and you’ve been really snarky lately. I thought it was the breakup—which is understandable—but being pregnant gives a whole new meaning to snark. Do you feel okay? Physically?”

  “Yeah,” I sighed. “Jack signed the papers to sell his half of the house to me. I haven’t been back here since I left. I know I need to move back and start getting ready”—I dropped a hand to my barely there baby bump— “it’s a lot harder than I expected. We bought this house together. It wasn’t even that long ago. Hunter freaked out, thinking we were going to see Jack and Princess—”

  I cringed. I deliberately avoided saying his name. It simply hurt too much.

  Hunter trotted into the kitchen and sank down between Carly and me—maximizing his chances for belly rubs. I rested a hand on his side and stroked his soft fur absently.

  “Tell you what,” Carly started, scratching Hunter’s ears. “How about you go get cleaned up and I’ll take you out for breakfast. Unless, are you sick in the morning?”

  I smiled and shook my head. “No, so far the baby’s been treating me all right.”

  Carly stared at my stomach, a dreamy look on her face. “I can’t believe you’re pregnant.”

  “You ready to be an auntie again?” I asked, thinking of her baby nephew from her sister, Alesha.

  Carly smiled. “You mean am I ready to spend a small fortune on impossibly adorable baby clothes and spend hours soaking up that baby smell? Hell yeah!”

  I laughed. “Good, because I have a feeling I’m going to need all the extra hands I can get.” My smile faded as the weight of the words sunk in.

  Carly leaned over and grabbed my hand. “You know Jack will be here for you, Holls.”

  I knew she was right. Ever since the two pink lines showed up on the pregnancy test, I knew Jack would be a good father and that he would go to the ends of the earth for his future child.

  It was part of the reason I hadn’t picked up the phone.

  “Holly, he will,” Carly said, misinterpreting my silence.

  I looked up and nodded. “I know. But—”

  Carly cocked her head, waiting.

  The doubts and fears untwisted as I tried to work out how to explain the mess of thoughts to her. “I think part of me isn’t calling him because I’m afraid he’ll rush back to Holiday Cove, go into full blown knight in shining armor, and snap back to the man I fell in love with,” I said in a whisper of a confession.

  Carly frowned. “And that would be a bad thing?”

  I dropped my eyes to the scattered pieces of magazine paper. “I want him to come back for me. If he comes back because I tell him about the baby, there’s a part of me that will always wonder if he resents me for tying him down. I mean, he wasn’t ready to get married. Clearly. How could he be ready for this? I mean a baby is on a whole other level.”

  “Maybe it’s the wakeup call he needs?”

  “Maybe.” I shrugged. “Breakfast sounds good. Is there such a thing as pancake therapy?”

  Carly smiled but I could see the hint of concern lingering in her eyes. She pushed up from the ground and reached for my hands. “All right, mama, let’s get you up.”

  I laughed and rolled my eyes. “I’m not at the beached whale phase yet,” I said, even as I accepted her help.

  “No, by then we’ll have Hunter trained to pull you around on a boogie board.” Carly winked as Hunter jumped up and did a circle at the sound of his name.

  I patted him on the head. “Hold down the fort, boy. I’ll bring you back a treat for a job well done.”

  Hunter panted and trotted to his dog bed by the couch and lay down.

  Carly smiled after him. “See, you’ve got this mama thing down pat.”

  ****

  Bananas. Orange juice. Turkey bacon. Cheese puffs and pickles?

  I frowned at the random, last-minute additions to my grocery list. Apparently, it was official. I’d crossed over into the disgusting food craving stage of pregnancy. I didn’t even like pickles. I sighed and tossed a jar into the cart anyway. Maybe I’d grab a pint of ice cream on the way to check out. When in Rome…

  “Holly?”

  I turned at the sound of my name and saw Gemma, basket in hand, heading toward me. I mustered a smile. Truthfully, I’d been avoiding her. We were good friends, but it was hard for me to see her and not feel jealous. And then jealousy faded into self-loathing for getting upset in the first place. It was a slippery slope. Even as she adjusted the basket in her hands, I caught sight of her glittering engagement ring and felt my stomach lurch.

  “How are you?” she asked, giving me a polite smile that I knew was two seconds from being a sympathetic (code for pitying) frown.

  “I’m good,” I replied, still forcing a smile. �
�Just stocking up. I’m moving back into the house.”

  “Oh? Well, that’s good. Right?”

  I hated how no one knew what to say to me or how to act around me. Why couldn’t everyone go back to normal? Was it too much to ask that they all hold their shit together?

  “It’s great,” I said too firmly. “I mean, I’m happy about it.”

  Gemma smiled. “Good. That’s great. Are you still working for Scoville Properties?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. Fifty plus hours a week.”

  She laughed. “Been there.”

  “Well, I hardly think I can complain when my job is mostly spreadsheets and long planning meetings. Not quite the same level of pressure as an ER nurse!”

  Gemma waved a hand. “I can deal with a little blood. Spreadsheets would have me losing my mind in ten minutes.”

  We laughed together and I relaxed. The bubble of anxiety and pressure in my stomach deflated. It was nice to laugh and smile again. The breakfast with Carly had gone a long way toward taking the edge off the fears and doubts in my mind and while I knew it wouldn’t last forever, at the moment, I was almost back to normal.

  “Listen, would you want to come over for dinner one of these nights?” Gemma asked, raking her fingers through her long, dark hair. She’d been growing it out in anticipation of her wedding. She had her heart set on a really complicated updo that required several more inches of hair, but knowing her, she’d chop it back to just over shoulder-length as soon as she got back from her honeymoon. Maybe even during…

  “Aaron and I were talking about having Carly and Nick over for a BBQ now that the weather is getting nicer and it’s staying lighter at night. We’d love to add you to the guest list.”

  Great, third wheel times two.

  “I don’t know,” I started, shifting my weight back and forth between my feet. I hadn’t been at the Air Museum since the breakup and I knew that seeing it again, driving up that hillside, would only flood me with memories. Ones that I would prefer to push as far away as possible.

  “Well, think about it. I’ll text you when we set a specific date. Probably next weekend.”