Pleasant Park would never be about that. Selfishness—yes. Absolution—if possible. Acceptance—God, he hoped so. But of all the things Jared had been accused of in his lifetime, financial gain seemed to him the most unjust.
Gretchen caught sight of him then, probably because the ground rumbled underneath him as he struggled to remain calm. She seemed to have a sense for that kind of thing, for when the pin was about to be pulled. He almost expected her to storm over and demand to know what he was doing having coffee with another woman, but she took one look at his face and offered a cheerful—if slightly sarcastic—wave.
He waved back. What else was there to do?
Paula twisted to see who he was greeting, and he just caught a flash of annoyance at their being interrupted. “Maybe somewhere quieter would be better,” she suggested.
Too late.
“Hello, Dr. Fine,” Gretchen said as she strolled up, emphasizing the use of his title. “Fancy meeting you here, looking as though you’d like to smash something with your face. Who’s your friend?”
He felt a smile lift in the corner of his mouth. Trust Gretchen to put his mood into such succinct and accurate phrasing. “Ms. Forks is a representative from Make the World Smile. Ms. Forks, this is my friend, Gretchen Badgerton.”
“Badgerton...Badgerton...” Paula cocked her head. “Why is that name familiar?”
“Probably because my grandfather burned down half of the Pennsylvania countryside in the fifties,” Gretchen said helpfully. “He was a bit of an arsonist in his day.”
She handed Jared a plastic cup of fizzy kombucha—an admittedly disgusting habit he’d picked up from a Russian colleague and hadn’t been able to shake since. It was sweet of her to remember his preferences, and also went to show how much attention she’d been paying without his ever realizing it.
He gripped the cup tightly, noticing a little picture of a banana she’d scrawled on the side. What else had his inattention caused him to miss?
From the way the woman frowned, Gretchen could tell her grandfather’s propensity for destruction wasn’t the reason she’d caught on to the family name. “He also made a small fortune on patents for farming machinery screws. Badgerton Fasteners. You might have heard of them.”
Jared shot her a quizzical glance at the disclosure, but the woman nodded like that made sense. And it did, if she’d spent any time driving through Pleasant Park. Although they were hardly a notable family these days, you could still see some of the faded advertisements from the sixties along the back roads, encouraging everyone to Hold on Tight.
“I’m about to switch shifts to go work at the rec center,” Gretchen said to Jared. Under normal circumstances, seeing the guy she was kind-of-dating out with another woman would make her feel a little foamy around the mouth, but the threat level seemed pretty minimal when said guy looked like he’d rather start eating the table than spend another minute sitting there. “I was going to see if you wanted to walk me, but if you’re busy...?”
He pushed back from his chair. “I’d like that.”
“But your father should be here—”
Jared whirled on the woman, and for the moment, Gretchen was glad to be on the right side of Dr. Fine’s moodometer. That man wore angry very well, with all kinds of angsty power throbbing in his wide-barreled chest. She wasn’t sure whether she was supposed to feel scared or turned way on.
She knew which one she was, though. She was jumping headfirst through door number two and about to swallow the key.
“My father? What does he have to do with anything?” Jared’s fingers gripped the table so firmly they grew white with the pressure.
“I have about fifteen minutes before my lifeguard shift starts, so I should probably get going.” Gretchen made a show of checking her wrist, even though she didn’t wear a watch. “If you’re going to spend much longer yelling at this woman in public for doing her job, I’ll probably go ahead and walk myself.”
For the briefest moment, Jared turned his wrathful gaze her way, and she could tell he wanted to lash out—at the woman, at her, at himself, if no more appropriate alternative presented itself. She held firm, and all of his anger seemed to dissolve before her eyes, leaving nothing but a chastened, shaking version of himself.
“You’re right. She’s right.” He turned to the woman and nodded once in that firm, masterful way he had. “I was out of line talking to you like that. While I appreciate the offer—and your coming all the way out here to deliver it in person—I respectfully decline. Please be sure and let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”
The woman blinked a few times, clearly startled, and looked back and forth between Gretchen and Jared before finally nodding. Extending a hand, she said, “Of course. I thank you for your time.”
He took her hand and shook it, rubbing his free hand along the back of his neck. “And I’m sorry I was such an ass just now. I tend to overreact to any mention of my dad. It’s my fatal flaw. Well, one of them.” He shrugged. “Pride is also ranked pretty high up there.”
Still looking slightly bewildered, the woman packed up her things, shoving them deep in an expensive beige bag like the kind Janice carried. Mom purses, Gretchen always called them, full of useful things like wet wipes and tampons and sugar-free gum, though this woman didn’t look maternal in the least.
“Thank you Ms., uh, Badgerton, was it?”
“No sweat.” Gretchen didn’t say anything more. There was no need to highlight her role in defusing the bomb that was Jared’s temperament. Nothing was more likely to set it off again.
She turned to the man in question, her brow quirked. “So. That was interesting.”
Jared grimaced. “I’m sorry about that.”
“Don’t apologize to me.” Gretchen nodded her head toward the door to indicate they needed to be making forward progression. “I’m not the one whose head you almost chewed off in the middle of a coffee shop. Did she push some big, bad button of yours?”
“You could call it that.”
She cast him a sidelong look. “Care to tell me what it is? So I can heed future warnings?”
“If you get anywhere near it, I’ll let you know.” In all honesty, he wasn’t sure where the sudden anger had come from. Part of it was the mention of his dad, yes—but there was more to it than that. They want me to be in charge. They want me to run the show.
He’d have been lying if he said he wasn’t pleased. Flattered, even. Not many men were recognized for their greatness while they were still alive. Not many were courted by power and deigned to say no.
But leave all this? Now? Just when things were starting to make sense again?
A more tempting bait couldn’t have come at a worse time. He shoved his hands deep in his pockets, fearful that the shaking was more than a sudden burst of adrenaline.
“Maybe we should devise a warning system. Like for tornadoes. Threat level three.”
“I doubt there’s anything you could say to set me off. You seem to have a strangely calming influence over me.”
“You have tiny feet for a man.”
“What?” He looked down at the items in question. They looked normal to him.
“They’re really dainty. You know what they say about men and the size of their feet.”
He scowled. His proportions were just fine—and if Gretchen didn’t stop looking at him like that, he’d show her right here on the street. “Don’t believe everything you hear.”
“And when someone makes you the slightest bit inconvenienced, you get this big, scary, condescending look. I bet you make lots of grown men cry.”
“I do not.” He stopped, but she kept walking so he had no choice but to follow. “I told you already. I have a naturally disagreeable face.”
She pursed her lips, as if seriously considering whether or not he spo
ke the truth. “It’s not your face so much as how little you care to school it. Most of us can at least pretend to be interested in what other people have to say. Look.” Without blinking, Gretchen opened her eyes wide and gazed at him, rapt with attention. “How interesting, Dr. Fine. And what do you think of the recent research coming out of Johns Hopkins about mole removal?”
She was good—he had to admit it. Scarily good, actually. This whole time, was her interest in him some big, fat lie? Was she just another in a long line of people telling him what he wanted to hear?
The idea only made his hands shake more.
“I can pretend just as well as the next guy,” he said, defending himself. “What do you think I’ve been doing ever since I came to Pleasant Park?” He was the charming doctor around patients and members of the community. Acted dutifully penitent around his friends. Played the good doctor and decent man they all wanted him to be.
How much more was a man expected to give before he cracked? He possessed the ability to speak five languages and tear down a medical camp in less than twenty-four hours, could look the most desperate, heartbroken parents in the eye and promise them everything would be okay. And he’d just turned down a job that, a year ago, would have been the culmination of an illustrious career—the height of all his aspirations.
He was a man without a home, a ship without a moor. A stranger in his own life.
“So what you’re saying is that you don’t really try unless you have an ulterior motive?” Gretchen stopped and looked up at him. They’d arrived at the aquatic center, where kids in colorful suits splashed the glass-paned walls, safe in their temperature-controlled, sterile environment. He felt anger flare in his gut despite the cheerfulness of it. Or maybe because of it.
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, see? Look at you, all puffing up like a peacock.” Gretchen’s smile swiped a blur of pearly whites across his vision. “There is too something I can say to set you off. I thought for sure the tiny feet would do it.”
He stopped, realization dawning. Well, shit. He’d fallen into that trap with both legs in front of him, hadn’t he?
“You shouldn’t goad a man when he’s down,” he grumbled, casting a suspicious glance down at his feet. Size nine was not tiny. It was the male average in the United States—she could look it up. “It’s like kicking a puppy. Or cooking your pet lobster.”
“Is that what you are, Jared? Down?”
Well, he certainly wasn’t up—that was for sure. “I thought you were going to be late for work.”
“We hightailed it over here pretty fast. You have a very purposeful gait when you’re angry.”
His anger all but dissipated now, he lifted a hand to her face, loving the way the soft curve of her cheek fit naturally into his palm. Scratch that—he loved the way all of her curves filled his hands. Memories of her rocketing against him, heedless of anything but the way they fit together, her head thrown back in ecstasy, swelled inside him.
There had been a lot of swelling going on lately where Gretchen was concerned.
“I’ve never been angry with you, if it helps. Truth be told, I didn’t expect there to be quite so much stuff to deal with when I returned to the United States. I’m trying to simplify my life. Not complicate it.”
“Stuff?”
“Stuff,” he repeated firmly. “Work stuff. Friend stuff. Family stuff. I can handle the big crises, the complex medical questions—it’s all the rest I’m not so good at. Obviously.”
She studied him quietly. “You changed your entire way of life over the span of a few months, Jared. Of course it’s going to be hard.”
Jared stopped all movement, even breathing and blinking somehow beyond him in that moment. Was it really that simple? Was this nothing more than a case of growing pains?
“You know what your problem is?” She didn’t wait for a response. “You’ve been carrying the weight of the world too long. Somewhere along the way, you forgot how to consort with mere mortals.”
“I don’t know how you do it,” he said wonderingly. “You make it seem so easy.”
She shrugged, color washing over her face. “It’s not that big of a deal. I have lots of practice being mortal.”
“That wasn’t what I meant.” Since she didn’t ask him to elaborate, he kept his mouth closed. That seemed the best way to keep his foot safely out of it. “So, since we’re here, can I come hang out by the pool and watch you climb the lifeguard tower in your swimsuit?”
“Of all the ways I might be able to distract you, you want to sit there and watch?” She tsked and laid a finger over his lips. “And here I figured you for a more active participant. A much more active participant. See you at tomorrow’s bout, Doc. I’m looking forward to it.”
She turned to leave, but he gripped her around the waist, twirling her back in his arms. In full view of the pool patrons, people brushing past them in workout gear, he brought his lips to hers and kissed deeply. There was something about this woman’s mouth that made him lose himself, falling into her without a care for proprieties or privacy or any of those things an actual gentleman might take into consideration.
And the noises she emitted when he did—well, was it any surprise he kept it up? Those soft, insistent cries were the soundtrack to the constant loop of her that played inside his head.
“Jesus, Gretchen. I’m not sure I can wait until tomorrow to see you again.”
She smiled against his mouth before pulling away. “Which is exactly why you’re going to have to. You have to earn the good things, remember?”
He was pretty sure there wasn’t any action in the world that would make him worthy of what she had to offer. But all he said was, “I’m working on it.”
Her hand rose quickly to his face before she turned toward the entrance doors.
“I know you are, Jared. That’s all that matters.”
* * *
Jared felt the relief of leaving work in a way that was entirely new to him. For the first few weeks after the medspa opened, he’d stayed after hours to prep things for the next day, sometimes reading up on the latest surgical journals, other times getting to know the machines he wasn’t very practiced using. Then one night he’d been caught by Kendra coming in to grab a book she’d left in the conference room.
“Stop being a workaholic and go home,” she’d ordered. “The whole point of opening this place was so we’d never have to work past five.”
When he hesitantly agreed to pack it up for the night, she’d immediately whisked out the door to meet up with John, Whitney and Whitney’s boyfriend, Matt, for dinner. That was what normal people did—punched the clock, did their work, built lives in the spaces in between.
He hadn’t had the nerve to tell her just how intimidating the spaces in between were. Time weighed heavily on his hands—heavier, even, than the guilt he’d been carrying for so long—and he didn’t know how to begin filling it.
“You’re looking awfully happy for a change,” Kendra teased as he and his friends locked up the office for the afternoon. Half day on Friday—yet another brainchild designed to improve their lives. Today, at least, he fully supported the idea. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you were smiling just now.”
“Hot date with the coffee girl?” Whitney waggled her eyebrows. “Did you get her father’s permission first?”
“She’s older than that kid you’re dating,” Jared returned calmly. He could afford to be calm. He had plans that included Philadelphia, roller derby and Gretchen—three things he never thought would top his list of lifetime thrills, but there it was.
“He has a point.” John took each woman by the elbow and propelled them in the direction of the parking lot. “Maybe you could leave the poor man alone and let him enjoy himself in peace for once.”
Whitney shook John off and turned t
o stare at Jared. He held her gaze with equanimity, refusing to let her win whatever alpha dog game she was playing in that moment. Whitney liked to win. At everything. She always had, whether they’d been sitting down to play a game of Monopoly or deciding where to go for dinner. Time had changed a lot of things about her, but that wasn’t one of them.
Jared, knowing what he had to lose if she didn’t forgive him, had been willing to go along with her domineering ways for too long. Yes, he was dating someone. Yes, it was a big, grand joke that Gretchen was covered in tattoos and eight years his junior. But dammit—he wanted this, wanted it enough to stare Whitney in the eye and make his demands.
“I hope you’re taking her somewhere nice,” she finally said, unblinking. “Preferably a restaurant with cloth napkins. Never underestimate the decadence of wiping your mouth with fabric that someone else has to wash.”
He very much doubted Gretchen cared about that sort of thing. Her down-to-earth integrity forbade it. “Actually, she has a roller derby thing in the city. I’m going to cheer her on.”
For one long, awful moment, he thought for sure Whitney was going to do or say something mean. Jared bristled, knowing he would rise up to defend Gretchen, knowing that to do so would set him back with his friends even more.
But her face relaxed into a smile—a mischievous, scary, slightly insane smile.
“Omigod. We’re totally coming with you.” With that ominous pronouncement, Whitney did a little dance. Honestly, if she didn’t have one of the best whip stitches he’d ever seen, he’d swear she was no more than six or seven years old. “I’ve always wanted to see one of those things in person, and I can’t think of anything I want more right now than to watch you watch your hot new light-o’-love roller skate.”
He stiffened. “I don’t recall issuing an invitation.”
“It’s a sporting event. You don’t get invitations. You get tickets.” She turned to John and Kendra. “What do you say, guys? Matt and I didn’t have any concrete plans for tonight. We could make it a thing.”
“No. There will be no thing. My personal life is not a thing.”
The Derby Girl Page 12
