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Trusting Jack

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by Hale, Beth




  Trusting

  Jack

  a novel by

  Beth Hale

  Trusting Jack

  Copyright ©2013 by Beth Hale

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior written consent of the publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locals, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All references to historical events, locals, and people portrayed in this book are based upon facts gathered by the author.

  ISBN-13: 978-1490403526

  ISBN-10: 1490403523

  Acknowledgements

  I have so many people to thank for helping make this possible. Mama, thank you for teaching me the absolute joy of reading, of teaching me how to lose myself completely between the pages. My love affair with books has only grown stronger each day. Aunt Linda, thank you for always encouraging me to pick up my pen. Autumn Breeze, friend and fellow author, thank you for giving me that extra push when I needed it most.

  Nathan, thank you for being the understanding husband of a slightly crazed writer. Clay and Lily, thank you for patiently waiting for me to finish “one more chapter”. I couldn’t ask for better children. I love you!

  And finally, Hailee Mathers, historian and friend. I checked and double checked the facts. All historical errors are mine alone. There are so many others to thank, too many to list. (Next time, guys.)

  This book is dedicated to my father, JL Wilbanks—gone but never forgotten—and to my grandmother, Mary Ellen Dixon, who is always ready to share a laugh with me.

  Prologue

  Emma stretched languidly against the pillows as she waited for her breath to slow down. He’d surprised her when he came in and initiated the energetic bout of sex.

  But she wasn’t complaining. Emma pushed back her damp, dark brown hair and smiled. She enjoyed making love with Ryan. She looked up when he rolled out of bed and began to dress.

  “Ryan? What are you doing?”

  “I’m leaving.”

  She frowned, puzzled. “Why? You just got home a couple hours ago.”

  “I want a divorce.” Ryan’s voice remained calm, and his hazel eyes stayed steady on her.

  “A divorce?” Emma’s head snapped back as if she’d been slapped. “You’re serious.”

  “Let’s be reasonable, Emma. It’s just not working for me.”

  “It’s not working…You couldn’t tell me before now, to give us a chance to work it out?” Tears filled Emma’s green eyes as she looked at her husband. “Before you took me to bed? Is it someone else?”

  Ryan nodded.

  “Who?” The question was loud in the sudden silence.

  “It doesn’t matter. You don’t know her.”

  “Does she know about me? Does she know she’s fuckin’ a married man?”

  “Damn it, Emma!” Ryan jerked on his shirt and began buttoning it. “I came on to her, I wanted her. She’s everything you’re not.”

  Emma drew in a sharp breath and ran trembling fingers through her curling hair. Tears clogged her throat as she asked hoarsely, “What does that mean?”

  “It means I’m tired of being with you. I tried to mold you into someone who could be useful to me, but it’s impossible.” Ryan sneered and his eyes narrowed. “I found you,” he said, “playing lackey to Norah Jackson. I saw a woman fresh from the South, thinking she could make her mark in New York. You were wrong to think you could ever fit in here.”

  “Stop it, Ryan,” she whispered. “Why are you being so cruel?”

  “Because I’m tired of wasting time and effort on you.” He slipped into his shoes and circled the bed. “You were pathetic when I first met you. All you had going for you was your face. Your clothes were awful, nothing but rags really. You didn’t even own a decent cocktail dress, for God’s sake. You hardly wore makeup, and you kept you hair clipped back into that stupid tail. I’ve bought you new clothes, made you over, and you still refuse to listen. I even got you away from that shit personal assistant job.”

  “I was good at my job,” Emma replied with a sudden show of spirit. “I was learning the business and Norah was my friend.”

  Ryan laughed harshly. “Friend, my ass. You’re still deluding yourself. You were her paid hanger-on, nothing more. The only reason that two bit actress hired you was because you faded into the background like a good little assistant.

  “I tried to help you, Emma. I’ve wasted fourteen months on you. Hell, I can’t even get you to lose that stupid Mississippi drawl.”

  “You said you like the way I talk.”

  “I lied,” he replied smoothly. He grabbed a gym bag and began putting clothes in.

  Emma began to shake all over. “I gave up everything for you,” she said brokenly. “My job, my friends, myself—because you asked me to. Did you ever really love me?”

  Ryan rolled his eyes. “Love was never a factor. I thought once I polished you up your Southern charm would be an asset.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I made a mistake. You can’t help me further my career. Renee, on the other hand, can. Especially since her father is a senior partner.”

  He pushed his arms into his jacket. “I’ll be staying with Renee until you can get packed. Try to be quick about it; she wants to move in as soon as possible.”

  “You used me, Ryan. Even tonight, when you led me to our bed.”

  He shrugged again. “You turned out to be a real hot piece once we got past your virginal fears. I wanted one last ride. We could always go again,” he smiled at her now, “end it all with a proper goodbye fuck.”

  She was trembling violently. “You’re crazy if you think I’d let you touch me now.”

  “Oh well, it didn’t hurt to ask.” Without another word, Ryan picked up the gym bag and walked out of the bedroom. She heard the apartment door close quietly behind him.

  Emma’s world shattered. She dropped her head to her knees and wept.

  Chapter 1 (8 months later)

  Emma was jolted awake by the sharp pounding on her kitchen door. She scrambled out of bed and down the stairs. After peeking through the curtain, she jerked the door open before he could wake the neighbors.

  “What is it?” she demanded. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong, I just forgot my key. “

  “Then why are you here? It’s five in the morning!”

  “Yeah, I know. Listen-“ Chris pushed Emma aside and strode into the kitchen. “Norah wants you back, and in a hurry, since she’s about to begin filming.”

  Emma’s sleep fogged eyes widened. “What? Why? Me?” she sputtered. “After so long? How did you get here anyway,” she wondered. “Why didn’t you let me know you were coming?”

  “Cause I wanted to talk to you in person. As soon as Norah told me I booked a flight to Memphis, rented a car, and drove straight here. Put some coffee on, will you? I’m beat.” Chris folded his six foot six frame into the tiny kitchen chair and scrubbed his hands over his face. There were bags under his eyes and stubble on his cheeks. “God, I’m tired. We’ve got to work out the details.”

  “What details? I quit on her; I’m surprised she even remembers me.”

  “Emma Payne.” Chris grabbed her hand. “She remembers you because you were so good at taking care of her. You’re discreet, honest, and a joy to be around—her words.”

  Emma made a sound of derision and pulled away. “Oh, sure, a real joy. That’s why Ryan bailed on our marriage.”

  “Ryan’s an asshole,” Chris replied heatedly. “You were always too good for him.”

  Emma pressed the power button on the coffee pot and sighed. “It doesn’t matter. Not anymore. I’ve got a job here, and—“
r />   “Emma. Honey, you’re keeping the books for your mother’s café. Don’t you think it’s time to take your life back?”

  “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

  “He means it’s time to let it go.” Ann came into the kitchen as she belted her robe. “Ryan hurt you, baby, but don’t let him ruin the rest of your life.”

  Emma busied herself with getting cups from the cabinet, milk from the fridge. “He said my job as an assistant was demeaning for an attorney’s wife. And he didn’t like the idea of being separated from me while I traveled with Norah,” she parroted. Ryan had drilled that into her head.

  “Ryan was jealous because if you were with Norah your attention wasn’t on him. He might have made partner at one of the biggest law firms in New York but he’s still an asshole.” Chris threw up his hands and looked at Ann. “Make her listen.”

  “I’ll try.” She walked over to her daughter and ran a comforting hand down her arm. “Chris is right, Emma. If Norah wants you back then go for it.”

  “Mama, I enjoy keeping the books.”

  Ann snorted as she poured coffee. “Baby, please. When you went to visit Chris and landed that job, I knew that would be what you loved. Norah knows it, too.”

  “Exactly,” Chris chimed in as he added milk to his cup. “Norah was upset when you quit but she understood. And now that you’re free she wants you to work for her again.”

  “How much did you have to do with this?” Emma asked him.

  “Honestly, all I did was mention I thought you might be finished licking your wounds.”

  “Licking my wounds?!” Emma spun around and jabbed her finger at Chris. Her nightshirt swirled around her thighs. “I was hurt! My husband suddenly decided I wasn’t good enough anymore. I thought he loved me and I was too damn naïve to see the truth.”

  “Well, I wasn’t,” Chris returned, slamming his cup onto the table. “I saw some rich guy in a suit sweep my best friend off her feet. He changed her into someone totally different and, when he became bored, he found a new pet to play with. And I had to stand by and watch your heart be broken—and watch you come back home to Guntown and hide.” Chris’s voice had risen by the time he was finished speaking.

  Emma opened her mouth but before she could yell back Ann touched her shoulder.

  “He’s right,” she said quietly. “Emma, he’s right. I know Ryan hurt you. He took my beautiful, confident daughter and turned you into someone so unsure of yourself that you were afraid of the life you’d made in New York.”

  “Mama.”

  “Honey, is this really what you want? Keeping the books for a small town café and growing old with your mama?

  “If so, then you have my support. But don’t you miss the excitement of meeting the people you see in movies, of being behind the scenes, being a part of that life? You used to gush about it.”

  Emma looked at her mother’s face, a faded copy of her own, and closed her eyes as she remembered. She managed to push the hurt aside and thought about the excited rush she’d lived in before Ryan. She was surprised to realize she did miss it. A lot. She made a snap decision.

  She smiled and turned to face Chris. “Tell Norah Jackson she has an assistant. I’m ready to take my life back.”

  With a whoop of delight, Chris grabbed Emma and danced her around the table before dropping her in a chair and sitting beside her. Ann watched them fondly, enjoying their sudden enthusiasm.

  “Do you think I could get some breakfast before I take a quick shower?” Chris asked Ann with a winning smile. “Plane food sucks.”

  “Anything for Chris Roper,” Ann replied as she cupped his cheek and sent silent thanks. Chris grinned in response.

  “Why does he get breakfast?” Emma demanded. “He shoved his way in here, yelled at me—your daughter—and almost made me cry.”

  “Yes.” Ann got the makings for omelets out of the fridge. “And he’s your best friend and he loves you almost as much as I do, and he finally found a way to break your shell.”

  Emma rolled her eyes then looked at Chris. She grinned back, sipped her coffee, and asked for details.

  “The movie will be shot entirely in Europe, mainly England. Shooting starts a week from Thursday. Norah’s leaving in three days; she wants you with her.”

  “What’s the movie about?”

  “A period drama about Edward II and Queen Isabella. She-Wolf.”

  “Oh, that’s great, I like that. They’re a rather overlooked part of history.”

  “Yeah, Norah thought that’d spark your interest since you’re a history buff and an Anglophile. God, you’re such a dork-ass.”

  She stuck out her tongue. “Don’t judge me. Who’s starring?”

  “Norah, of course, as Isabella. Roger Agnew as Edward II and Richard Solomon as Mortimer. Jack Brandon is set to play Edward III. He’s a British actor-- mostly theater, a few TV spots. He’s gained a lot of recognition with that; this is his first film.”

  “I haven’t heard of him,” Emma mused. “But I’ve been out of range for a while.”

  “He’s talented. I caught a performance of his the last time I was in London. He’s been in a couple of productions in New York, too. I’ve brought you a copy of the script and a plane ticket.”

  Emma raised her eyebrows. “What if I’d said no?”

  “That wasn’t a possibility. I knew it was time.”

  Emma just shook her head and dug into the omelet Ann sat in front of her. “Why is Norah going to London a full week before work begins? She usually waits till the last minute, showing up just before shooting starts.”

  “She says to get a better feel for the country and

  to indulge in some prime shopping—again her words.”

  Emma laughed as she stood to refill her cup. “That’s Norah. So if we leave in three days…I need to get busy. I should go shopping; it’s been a while.”

  “Can I come?” Chris asked. “Lord knows you look better when I dress you.”

  Emma smiled and punched Chris on the arm. “Let’s go to Memphis,” she said. “It’s the closest city with decent shopping. Are you coming, Mama?”

  “Oh, no,” Ann exclaimed. “I’ve been shopping with you two before and it’s like marathon running. Go, have fun.” She made shooing motions with her hands. “I’ll stay here and get your luggage down from the attic.”

  “Give me forty minutes, Chris. I need to shower and do my hair and make-up.”

  “I’ll give you an hour. Your hair looks like shit.” Laughing, Chris ducked the dish towel Emma threw at him as she walked up the stairs.

  ***

  “What do you think?” Chris struck a pose that made Emma giggle. The pale orange shirt complimented his auburn hair and grey eyes.

  “Nice,” she said.

  Chris scowled. “Handsome,” he corrected. “Unbearably sexy. I’m getting it.”

  Emma rolled her eyes. “I’m shopped out,” she admitted. “And hungry.”

  “There’s a Thai place a couple of miles down the road.”

  “Sounds delicious,” she agreed as they left Macy’s.

  Chris loaded the bags into the back of his rented Honda Pilot. “I think over half those bags are mine,” he commented as he slid behind the wheel.

  “Probably.” Emma shucked her shoes into the floorboard. “But I want to travel rather light. I’ll buy more if I have to once I’m there.”

  “It’s hard to argue with that logic. I’m ready for a beer.” Chris turned the ignition.

  “I haven’t had Thai in months.”

  “I’m guessing six or more. I don’t think you’ve been more than thirty miles from home since you came back. I want to ask you something.” He let out a breath as he merged into traffic and headed for the restaurant. “Did Ryan ever hit you?”

  “No,” she answered honestly. “Not once.”

  “Then I don’t have to kill him. You’ve never really talked about it.”

  “He was…It was mental. I can see it
now. He would chastise me if I stayed out too late with friends, or if I had a phone conversation about work once I got home. He let me know how disappointed he was that I chose someone else over him. So two months after we were married I quit my job. To focus, he said, on my duties as his wife.” It was said quietly; it still hurt.

  Chris muttered under his breath as he pulled into a parking space. Emma touched his arm as he cut the engine. He looked at her and declared, “I would dearly love to kick his ass.”

  Emma smiled sadly. “I really thought

  everything was fine. Ryan was making a few business

  trips for the firm and there was talk about making him a

  partner. I was happy and excited for him. I tried so

  hard to be what he wanted, to be an asset to him. Then

  he came home and told me he wanted a divorce.” She

  fell silent and glanced away. Tears threatened, and she

  quickly cleared her throat.

  “Oh, Emma.” Chris took her hand. “I’m sorry I brought it up.”

  “No, it’s ok. I’ve kept it in long enough, I think. For a long while I thought it was my fault. I didn’t dress right, my accent was too strong, I didn’t know the right people. I went to see her—Renee—before I left,” she said suddenly.

  “Wow. How did that go?”

  “She’s beautiful.” Emma stared out the windshield. “Long legs and blond hair. She’s smart and sophisticated. Her daddy is a senior partner at the firm. And she has big boobs. Ryan was right; she’s everything I’m not. How could I compete with her?”

  Chris gaped at her. “Emma, c’mon. You are beautiful…all that curling dark brown hair, big, beautiful green eyes. You have those kiss-me lips and a great figure, all in a fun size package. You have big boobs, too—and yours are real.”

  Emma grinned at that. “I love you, Chris.”

  “And I love you. If I was into girls I would’ve scooped you up years ago.”

 

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