She nodded. “And you fly home late tonight.”
He wished he didn’t have to go back to his mother’s house to pack. The simple solution to his regret at parting from this amazing woman was to drive back to Chicago with her. But he didn’t suggest it. He sensed Kate wanted some time alone to sort things out. He didn’t need any alone time. He had not one single doubt about what had happened. He was fully prepared to ride out this incredible wave to see what might happen next.
“I’ll call you the day after tomorrow,” he assured her.
“We’ll see.” She turned away, looking down the silent, shadowed street. “You don’t have to, you know. You didn’t do anything I didn’t want you to. So there should be no guilt.”
“I’m not feeling guilty.” He brushed a strand of hair off her brow, wishing the streetlights around here worked so she could see the sincerity in his eyes. “I’m missing you already.”
She shrugged, appearing unconvinced. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to hers. Her hands snaked around his neck, and she deepened the kiss, as if making one of her memories—this time, the feel of him in her arms. He made one, too.
“I will call. So can you give me your number and save me from having to dig through my neighbor’s recycling bins, trying to find a month-old newspaper with your name and store address?”
She chuckled. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out a small pink card and handed it to him. He palmed it. “Thanks.”
She got into her car, then lowered the window. “I had a great time tonight, Jack. Thanks to you, from now on when I think of Pleasantville, I’ll have much more pleasant memories.”
He leaned in to kiss her one more time. “I’ll see you in two days. I promise.” He watched as she drove away.
Still holding the business card in his hand, he headed back to his mother’s house. He hadn’t even closed the door behind him when she waylaid him in the foyer. “Where have you been? And who were you kissing? Elmira Finley called this afternoon and said you and some stranger made a spectacle of yourselves outside the Tea Room!” She paused only long enough to take a long sip of her drink. Her favorite cocktail—a glass of vodka with a thimbleful of orange juice to turn the thing a murky peach color.
He walked past her. “I wouldn’t call it a spectacle.”
“How could you? And who was she? Nobody recognized her.”
His sister Angela entered from the living room and gave him an amused look. “So, the golden boy gets a turn as black sheep.”
“Who, J.J.?” his mother stressed, ignoring Angela.
Jack glanced at the business card, which he’d tucked into his pocket. Jones. Katherine Jones. Of course. Her thick, long, dark hair and name had made him think of Catherine Zeta-Jones when he saw the picture in the paper. “Her name’s Kate Jones.”
The glass slid from his mother’s fingers and crashed to the tile floor, shattering into several sharp pieces.
“Mother?”
She shook her head, saying nothing. Angela, however, didn’t remain silent. “You’ve got to be kidding. Kate Jones is back here? I can’t believe she’d show her face in town now.”
He narrowed his eyes and stared at his sister.
“You know who she is, Jack. For heaven’s sake, she’s one of those trashy Tremaine women.”
Jack clenched his teeth. “I don’t care what her connection is to this town. She doesn’t live here now, and neither do I.”
“You can’t mean to see her again,” his mother said, sounding on the verge of tears. “Edie, her mother…”
He instantly understood. Kate was Edie’s daughter. He’d forgotten all about the fact that Edie had moved home to Pleasantville as a widow with a little girl so many years ago. He’d been only a kid of eleven or twelve himself.
His instant connection to Kate sure made sense. Edie was one of the nicest people he’d ever known. “Mother, it’s fine. Kate’s wonderful, honest and open, like Edie. You’d like her.”
Angela stepped over the broken glass until she stood next to him. “Honest? Open? Get real. How can you call the woman who’d been banging our father for twenty years honest and open?”
He narrowed his eyes. “You’re on dangerous ground, Ang.”
“Come on, Jack, the whole town knows it,” Angela said. “Including Mom, who, if I’m not mistaken, was happy about it. Free maid service because Edie felt so guilty, plus you got to avoid any icky sex with Dad. Isn’t that what you said, Mom?”
Jack looked at his mother, waiting for her to deny it. He expected her to faint, cry or yell. She did none of these. In fact, there was only one way to describe her expression.
Guilty as sin.
* * *
“SO, HE STILL hasn’t called?”
Kate looked up from her office computer screen and frowned at Armand. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
He waved an airy hand. “Remember who you’re talking to.”
Kate smirked. “Your sexual preference is showing.” Armand hated to be thought of as flaming, though he occasionally was.
“I don’t really care, because for the first time in forever, we’re talking about your sex life, not mine!”
“No, we’re not talking about it.” She walked past him onto the sales floor. The overhead lights were on, though they wouldn’t open for an hour. Pretending she needed to check the bondage section, she busied herself counting leather masks and handcuffs. Big sellers, particularly around the holidays.
“Kate, stop pretending you don’t care this guy didn’t call. You’ve been moping for ten days, ever since you got home from Tortureville. Track the bastard down and confront him about it.”
“I can’t. The last words I said to him were there’s no guilt, no regret, and he didn’t have to call.”
Armand rolled his eyes in disgust. “Well, of course, but you didn’t mean it. Darling, all men—including the heterosexual ones—know that speech is complete bullshit.”
She ignored him. “Besides, I don’t know his last name.”
“Stranger sex. I still can’t believe you went for it.”
She wished she’d never told him. But Armand was a sexual bloodhound. He could smell naughty secrets, even days later.
“So, you see, I can’t track him down, even if I wanted to.”
Which she didn’t. Jack’s silence in the past ten days spoke volumes. He knew where to find her and he hadn’t looked. She’d cared at first. Too much. Then she’d reminded herself she knew what she was getting into. She could have walked away at any time, but she wanted great sex, with him, then and there. And she got it. So she couldn’t now hate him for not following up on his promise to see her when he got back to Chicago.
“Please, Armand, let it drop,” she said, rubbing a weary hand over her brow. “It was great, now it’s done. I’m over it.”
“You’re such a phony, Katherine Jones,” he replied. Then he stepped closer and took her in his arms, hugging her close. Kate allowed herself to be comforted, burrowing into Armand’s hard, masculine chest the way she would with an older brother.
“It’s really a shame you don’t like women,” Kate said, looking up at him. “You’re funny, loyal and a total hottie.”
Armand smiled, a heart-stopping smile that could make women try to reform him and gay men sit up and beg. “I adore women. I just don’t want to sleep with them. Besides, I wouldn’t want to be one of those men you push away as you close yourself up in your prickly, tough shell, keeping out anyone you think could hurt you. This way we can love each other without any sex or commitment stuff getting in the way.”
“I love you, too,” she said with a gentle smile, not acknowledging his probably all-too-accurate description of Kate’s views on trust, love and relationships.
Before they could get any mushier, the phone rang. Kate answered, smiling as she heard her mom’s voice. The smile faded as Edie told her some bad news about her Pleasantville house.
“Vandalized? How? Did the Keysto
ne Kops do anything?”
“Sheriff Taggart assures me he’ll do everything he can to catch those who did it,” Edie said. “Tag’s a nice young man, you’d like him. He and your cousin have apparently already met.”
Kate snorted, still unable to believe Cassie had gone to Pleasantville. “Yeah, the son of a…I mean, the sheriff, gave her a ticket last night, her first night in town. Sounds like Pleasantville’s as pleasant as ever to the Tremaines.”
“It’s not the whole town, Kate. Only a few bad apples.”
“Enough to fill Mrs. Smith’s pies for a decade.”
Her mother tsked. “Obviously your cousin disagrees with you, since she’s decided to spend the summer there.”
Kate could have told her the real reason Cassie had gone to Pleasantville. But the cousins had agreed not to. Edie and Flo didn’t need to know that Cassie was, in essence, hiding out from a troubling situation. A possibly dangerous situation.
At least Pleasantville is better than dead. Kinda.
“In any case, the real estate agent is having a handyman repaint,” Edie said. “He also tells me he had a call asking if the house was available for short-term rental. What do you think?”
Kate, the accountant-at-heart, nodded. “Good idea. If you can rent it out to cover the mortgage until it sells, then do it.”
After a few minutes’ conversation she hung up and told Armand what had happened to her mother’s house.
“What a horrid little burg,” he said. “Who would paint graffiti on Edie’s door? She’s the nicest soul I know!”
Kate nodded, agreeing. Her mom was genuinely the nicest person she knew. Patient and understanding. Sweet-natured, helpful and modest. All the qualities Kate had wanted as a kid—which she now knew definitely had not swum across that gene pool from mother to daughter. She’d tried to pretend they had, while growing up in Ohio. But the sweet, modest, quiet genes had eluded her. She had to admit it…she liked herself better now that she was free to be herself. Prickly tough shell and all.
“I can’t believe Cassie’s vacationing there. Couldn’t she have gone anywhere else but Nastyville?”
Kate shrugged. Yes, Cassie could have gone somewhere else, but fate and circumstance had pointed her to Pleasantville. There was Cassie’s personal situation. Edie’s departure. Flo’s affair and decision to give Cassie several properties in their hometown—properties left to Flo by some of her more affluent lovers. That had amused Cassie to no end. And the diaries.
Kate had mailed Cassie’s diary to her immediately after her return from Ohio, and the two of them had sat on the phone for two hours one night, talking about them. They’d relived all the slights, the hurts and their infamous prom night. They’d even read over their “revenge lists.” Then and there, Cassie had decided the best place to hide out was in a town that had never really seen her anyway. It made sense, in a sad, twisted way.
* * *
THEIR DIARIES were still on Kate’s mind late that night when her phone rang at home. Cassie, needing a friendly voice. They talked for several minutes about the pricey house on Lilac Hill, which Flo had given Cassie. Then Kate asked the inevitable. “So, did you go by Pansy Lane today?”
When Cassie went silent, Kate sighed. “You saw.”
“Yeah. Your mom called, and I went to see how bad it was.”
“And?” When Cassie hesitated, Kate said, “Come on, Cass, do you think I’ll be shocked by anything the people there do?”
“It’s pretty bad. Horrible, ugly words, spray-painted across the front of your mom’s house.” Cassie gave a humorless chuckle. “And a few for Flo’s house, just for good measure.”
Kate muttered an obscenity. “I’m thinking Pleasantville could really use a High Plains Drifter,” she muttered. “Mom says the agent’s going to have the damage fixed. Let’s talk about something else. Tell me how it’s going for you.”
Cassie chuckled. “Did I tell you about the other building Flo gave me? It was Mr. McIntyre’s shop on Magnolia.”
Kate gasped. “McIntyre’s? No way! I never knew Flo was involved with Darren’s father. No wonder Mrs. McIntyre hated us. I guess that’s why the men’s shop closed down.”
Kate should have expected what came next. Cassie had come up with the crazy idea to give Kate the building to open a store, a Bare Essentials, in Pleasantville! She laughed, loudly, as her cousin launched into reasons why it was a good idea.
They lightheartedly argued about it for a few minutes then Cassie said, “And besides, it’s right downtown. Right next door to the Tea Room. Are you following me here?”
While they kept discussing it, Kate’s mind was somewhere else. Thinking of Edie. Of the vicious words that day in the Tea Room. Of the spite. Of the silly Clint Eastwood poster. Of the big overstock she had piling up in the backroom of her store, because of the going-out-of-business sale of a sex toy supplier from Texas. Of a big empty building and storefront, which, Cassie said, needed only a little elbow grease to get it ready to open. Which Cassie wanted to provide, if only to keep from going crazy with boredom. She thought of the cute girl she’d met in the nail salon, who’d longed for something to happen.
Mostly, she thought of Cassie. Alone, a sitting duck, in a town that didn’t care a rat’s ass for any of them and wouldn’t lift a finger to help if her trouble followed her to Ohio.
Cassie urged, “Come on, Kate. Opening a porn shop in Pleasantville. It doesn’t get better than that.”
Kate rolled her eyes. “Bare Essentials is not a porn shop. But you’re right, it sure would cross number one off my revenge list, wouldn’t it?” Then she chuckled. “And some of the Winfields are still in town to get even with, right?”
Cassie obviously understood. She knew what had happened on prom night, just as Kate knew what had happened to Cassie. They’d shared their most anguished secrets one night a few years ago over a bottle of cheap tequila and an entire key lime cheesecake. Then Cassie gasped. “Oh, I can’t believe I forgot. Did your mom tell you someone wants to rent her house?”
“Yeah. I guess if I come back to town, I’d better ask her not to so I’ll have someplace to stay.”
“Don’t be silly. You can stay with me. It’s too late, anyway, your mom told me she heard from the renter today. It’s J. J. Winfield. He’s renting her place in a couple of weeks.”
Kate reeled. J. J. Winfield was going to be living in her mother’s house? Why would he stay on the seedy side of town when his family lived on the sunny one? “Impossible!”
“Swear to God. Your mom seemed really touched by it.”
Kate wasn’t surprised her mother hadn’t called her back to tell her. Kate had never admitted knowing about her affair, but Edie knew she couldn’t stand the Winfields, anyway.
Kate suddenly saw an opportunity. Mayor John Winfield was gone, but there would soon be another John Winfield in Pleasantville. Could she possibly get vengeance on the late Mayor Winfield through his son? Seduce him, break his heart, get some serious payback on behalf of the Tremaine women?
She wondered if she could really go through with it. Physically, yes. Kate wasn’t vain. But she knew something about sex and seduction. It was her stock in trade. So yes, she could do it. It was the emotional part she worried about.
But men did that kind of thing every day, didn’t they? Look at what had happened to her in good old Pea-Ville ten days before. A man had taken what he wanted—admittedly giving her some pleasure, too—and walked away without a single word since. Hurting her. Though, damn it, she’d never admit that to anyone!
Her decision was easy. With a few shipments of goods, and some vacation time this summer, she could look out for Cassie, give a major screw-you to the old guard in Pleasantville…and seduce and break the heart of the son of the man who’d broken her mother’s. Throw in a humiliating moment for Darren and Angela, and she’d make all her teenage dreams come true.
“Cassie,” she finally said, knowing her cousin awaited her decision. “Do you think Flo would
let me stay in her old place?”
5
JACK COULD HAVE CHOSEN the master bedroom when he moved into Edie Jones’s house. Since he’d be in town for at least a month settling his father’s tangled financial affairs, he probably should have made himself comfortable in the larger bed. He didn’t, for several reasons, but mostly because of the image of his own father—and Edie—in it. He shuddered at the thought.
He still couldn’t believe it. His father and Edie had been lovers for two decades. He hadn’t just taken Angela’s word; his mother had admitted it. That was when he’d decided he couldn’t stay in his parents’ house during his trip home this summer.
Most sons would probably have felt as much anger toward Edie as toward his father. Jack felt only pity and regret for the woman, who’d been the kindest part of his boyhood. His parents’ marriage had been as convoluted as his father’s finances, and Edie had been a victim more than anything else. Looking through his father’s records, it became obvious the pittance he’d left Edie in his will didn’t come near to covering her paychecks, some of which she hadn’t cashed over the years.
His family owed Edie something. Staying here, fixing up her house, doing repairs and maintenance so she could sell the place and make a new life for herself, was the least Jack could do.
“Sleep, Jack.” He glanced at the clock, which showed the hour had moved past one. Sleep proved elusive here, especially because Kate had told him how she’d spent her last afternoon in this house. Lying on her bed. Thinking of him. Touching herself. “Knock it off, moron,” he said. He couldn’t allow himself to think about Kate. Not until he’d figured out how to make up for the damage his parents had caused to her and her mother.
“God, I’m sorry,” he muttered. Sorry for Edie, who, he’d learned, had been ridden out of town like a scarlet woman by the old guard of Pleasantville. Sorry for Kate, who’d grown up in this tiny house, on Edie’s small income, made smaller by his parents’ selfishness. Sorry for himself, because what he wanted more than anything was to find Kate and to tell her how hard he’d fallen for her on the day they’d met, just over a month ago.
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