“Hey, beautiful.”
She pulled the phone from her ear and glanced at the name on the screen. It sounded like Chandler, but the words couldn’t be his. “You okay?”
“It’s been a long day. I’d recommend ignoring the news for a bit.”
She leaned over to click the computer to life. In a moment she was surfing. Horror bubbled inside her as she found a story about an attack at the Vet Center. “You were in the middle of that? No wonder you didn’t return my calls.”
“Yeah. The man was injured in a convoy explosion. I was supposed to be there, so he blamed me for his injuries.”
“Are you okay?”
“I am. This guy must have suffered some horrible things on his last tour, because he didn’t make sense.” He blew out a breath. “He shot one of my team members, so I’ll be here awhile and then at the hospital. I’d like to come by when I get home if that’s okay.”
“Sure, let me know when you’re done.”
“Will do.” Exhaustion overshadowed his words.
“Will your colleague be okay?”
He sighed. “I don’t know. I’m praying no news is good news.”
“Then I’ll believe that with you.” She would until they could put this day behind them.
CHAPTER 43
WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 17
The office of Daniels, McCarthy & Associates was dark when Jaime left. Bella had stashed her box in the last empty office, and Jaime had spent the afternoon drafting a preliminary report about Aslan’s impact on Tiffany. As she researched comfort dogs, it was fascinating to quantify the effect these animals could have on stressed and traumatized children. She’d add specifics when she saw the two together again.
Somehow the women in the firm managed to work regular hours if they weren’t preparing for trial or an oral argument. Jaime packed her bag, leaving the box where it sat. After saying good-bye to Savannah, she headed to the backdoor and her car, then remembered she’d had to take a cab.
She was ready to be home and forget about this day when she’d officially lost her job. It was also the day she’d said yes to God. That incongruence made her feel off balance—tired yet energized.
She’d need to take time to dream and decide what she wanted to do next. Other than not moving, she didn’t have much in the way of direction. After pulling her phone from her purse, she paused to pull up a ride share app. As she waited for it to load, she stepped forward and the door closed behind her. The hair on her neck stood as if a breeze had just snaked down her shirt.
Someone was out here.
She knew it just like she knew the car that had almost hit her at McDonald’s hadn’t been an accident.
She fought a shudder and the desire to flee back into the building. Without the building key in hand, the safest route was around the building to the safety of the sidewalk and street lights. She clutched her phone as she hurried forward.
A rustle from somewhere near the row of trees at the edge of the parking lot made her stop.
She couldn’t move forward. Not if someone waited by the edge of the lot.
Her gaze bounced around the parking lot, and then she decided to run for the front of the building. Light would pool on the sidewalk and there would be sufficient traffic on King Street to prevent anything from happening. As soon as she reached the edge of the building she tugged her phone free and called for the police. Then she called Savannah, and a moment later the front door opened.
“Jaime, you out here?” Savannah stood silhouetted in a pool of light from the building.
“Here.” She hurried to the door. “I think someone was on the edge of the parking lot, but I can’t be certain.”
“You called 911?”
Jaime nodded.
“Then a patrol will come by here soon.” Savannah reached for Jaime. “Grab your things and get back inside.”
Twenty minutes later, an officer had confirmed that anyone who might have been lurking was long gone.
Jaime didn’t want to return to her empty apartment. And she didn’t want to call the girls, especially since they’d already spent so much time helping her.
Was this to be her life?
She felt the flicker of hope thinking of a certain Captain America look-alike . . . but they hadn’t yet fully addressed her past and what it meant for them today. She knew the long-term consequences of abuse and how it could impact future intimacy, even when it was an intimacy she longed to have with someone she loved. But when even the thought left her out of breath with her vision swirling, she had to do something.
What?
She blinked and found she had walked to the end of King Street where a parking lot sat along the Potomac River.
How had she gotten here? Was it another blackout?
What now?
Find her way back to people.
It was something. With no clear direction in mind, she started walking. Old Town never really closed. As she walked by windows, she looked inside to see tables of people enjoying time together around food.
How many times had she watched from the outside? Even when the girls included her, she’d often felt she didn’t quite fit or belong.
I’m tired of feeling like this.
The thought reverberated through her mind.
Look at the people she loved. Their lives were full, challenging, and rich.
Would she forever be marked with this disconnect?
She kept moving, weaving through the hardy souls who walked along the King Street sidewalk. When she reached the city building, she walked toward the winterized fountain. It wasn’t unusual in warmer weather to see a romantic interlude, the kind she ran from.
She sank onto a bench, and the cold leached through her. “God, I’m beginning to believe You care about me, so You must know I can’t keep living like this. My life feels stripped away. And the nothingness that I am is revealed.”
She thought of the way Aslan confronted Edmund with direct kindness. Would God do the same with her?
“I’m not a saint. You know everything I’ve done, everything that’s happened to me. I need to know You are real.” She felt foolish, whispering the words into the air, but she also had this deep need to get the words out of her mind and into the world. Would God respond?
She sat there until her legs felt numb. Before she gave herself pneumonia waiting for a response, she stood and hailed a passing cab. The drive home went quickly, and she almost left her attaché case on the seat, she was so befuddled.
But maybe she’d spend tomorrow working on her résumé and looking for jobs. It might feel better than staring out the window wondering what to do with herself.
The elevator doors opened and she stilled. Down the hall by her door sat a man with a mountain of a dog.
Chandler? Aslan?
How long had they been waiting?
Aslan’s ears perked and Chandler stumbled to his feet. “You’re home.”
“I am.” She stared at him, taking in the slight five o’clock shadow that added to his rugged appeal. The stress etched in his face reflected his hard day. “You’re here.”
Wonder colored her voice, and her eyes held a light she couldn’t hide. Maybe waiting until he couldn’t feel his back end had been worth it. After his terrible day, he had to see her. A few words on the phone wouldn’t be enough.
Aslan had scratched at the door a couple times, making him wonder if she’d snuck in before he’d arrived, but here she was now, nose and cheeks red from the cold. “Have you had dinner?”
“No.”
“Then let’s get you something to eat.” He resisted reaching out to touch her. Over the last days he’d done research. As much as he wanted to hold her, he would wait. She’d have to make the first move, or he risked pushing her away. That wasn’t something he would do.
She watched him another moment, then reached into her purse and snagged keys. She walked around him, letting her shoulder brush his arm. This was progress.
“Let’s ord
er a pizza.” She jiggled the keys in the doorknob and then opened the door. “Will Aslan behave?”
Could there be a double meaning? “I can guarantee my dog will be a gentleman.”
“Then come on in. I have a stack of takeout menus in a drawer.”
“I’m already pulling up a website.” After they agreed on toppings, he entered the order and paid. Aslan snuffled along the living area. “You won’t find the cat that way, boy.”
“You never know.” Jaime kicked off her heels and headed toward the closed door. “I’ll be back in a minute.” When she opened the door the cat peered out, then pulled back with a hiss at the sight of Aslan.
Aslan ran at the door but not before Jaime shut it. He plopped at it with his nose down at the crack and whined.
“I know how you feel.”
Chandler sank onto the futon and leaned his head against the back. He was starting to drift to sleep when the door opened. He resisted the urge to peek at her. Instead, he waited until she walked around and sat in the opposite corner of the couch.
“Pizza should be here soon.” He kept the words casual. She’d have to lead the way on the discussion. He was here for her but not to crowd.
“Would you like some water or something else to drink? I don’t have much.”
“Water’s fine.” He finally looked her way as she stood and made her way to the small kitchen space. She’d changed into leggings and an oversized sweatshirt, and he had to fight the urge to get close to her and let her know how attractive she was. Was she testing him with that outfit? On her athletic form he doubted anything would make her less attractive, but he wouldn’t let her in on that secret.
A minute later she handed him a glass filled with water and ice. He took a sip.
“Where are you?”
Her question jolted him. “What do you mean?”
She cocked her head as she studied him. “You just had a horrible day. I think I’d be past crashing in your shoes. Are you okay?”
He took a moment before he raced forward with an easy answer. “No.” He closed his eyes. “Today brought back some of my darkest moments. On my last tour I lost a good man from my unit. I was supposed to be with them but stayed behind at the last minute. The man today was injured in that attack.”
“I’m so sorry.” A soft hand touched his shoulder.
Chandler cracked his eyes. “When he shot Jake . . . I thought we’d lose him.”
“But you didn’t.”
“Not yet.” He knew too well all that could go wrong in a situation like Jake’s. “He has a long road in front of him.”
“But he’s alive. You did well.”
Chandler rolled his head from side to side along the futon. “If I hadn’t gone in, Jake might not have been shot.” Just like if the convoy had delayed to wait for him, the explosion might not have happened.
“That might is everything.”
“What do you mean?”
Jaime ran her fingers through her hair then swept it up like a ponytail only to let it fall lose and free. “When we live with mights, we live with regrets.”
Aslan whined next to him, and Chandler turned to see why. He held back a laugh as he saw Simba walking out, legs stiff and tail high. The cat walked around the couch, keeping distance between himself and Aslan, then leapt onto the back by Jaime’s head. She pulled him onto her lap and stroked his fur until the cat purred and Chandler was jealous. Simba looked at him with a self-satisfied expression.
Give him time. He’d displace the cat, and then guess who’d be satisfied.
Aslan rested his muzzle on the arm of the couch and grinned at him. So his dog liked the cat as much as he liked the owner.
“Help me forget about those hours. Tell me about your day.”
She almost walked past the fact she’d been officially fired. “So I was only at the office long enough to pack a box and call a cab.”
“Sorry I couldn’t be there for you.”
“You were where you needed to be.”
He knew she was right, but . . . “I wanted to be there for you.”
“So you can help me by being a friend as I figure out what I want to be when I grow up.” She shrugged, but pain radiated from her eyes. “I thought I’d spend a career there, but that was unrealistic. There will be something else. I’m way too young to retire.”
“There are so many people you can help.”
“I just have to figure out how.” She turned the attention to the report she was writing for a judge about Tiffany and Aslan. Did Jaime understand how much Tiffany’s story tugged Jaime herself toward freedom? Was it in helping someone else climb out of their pain that she moved beyond hers?
He wasn’t sure, but he wanted to find out. If ever anyone needed freedom, she did. The question was how to breach her walls so that she could sense the hope just beyond her castled heart.
She’d let him hold her hand, but he wanted to hold her heart. He felt the tug of knowing he could help her, and she could challenge him. There would be no easy answers in a relationship with Jaime, but he didn’t want easy. He wanted a woman complex and rich. Desirable and just out of reach.
Jaime Nichols was all of those things and a thousand more.
He’d try to let things follow a path of their own choosing, a path that would let him woo her and entice her to come to the other side. The side of light and freedom, of challenge and joy. But with Jaime, a plan wouldn’t work. The relationship would have to grow organically at its own pace.
The pizza arrived, and Chandler set it on the coffee table while Jaime collected plates and napkins. She couldn’t believe how comfortable it felt to have Chandler in her space. Even Simba and Aslan had settled. Maybe it was time to see what was possible.
Chandler was always a gentleman, and she wasn’t quite sure what to do with him. She could sense his interest, but he carefully restrained it.
She respected that about him.
But what did she want to do with him?
The conversation stalled while they ate, but that was okay after his insane day. Hers hadn’t been so great either, so the silence was welcome.
Her phone vibrated, and she wanted to ignore it, but it continued. She glanced at the screen and grimaced. She should have left it alone.
“Need to take that?”
“No.” It was the last thing she wanted to do.
“Sure?”
“It’s my dad.” She didn’t know what to tell him. “Our relationship is tricky.”
“Because they weren’t there for you?”
“I didn’t explain well what was happening.”
“You were a child.”
“But I could have told them before I decided to press charges against my uncle.”
He considered her with a serious expression that let her know he was thinking rather than reacting. “Would it have changed anything?”
That was a question she didn’t want to consider, because if it wouldn’t have, she would feel even more alone. “I want to believe it would have.”
He nodded, his eyes never leaving her as she held Simba. “Parents aren’t perfect, Jaime.”
“I know.” She knew better than most. “I just wanted to know they’d support me. I guess the relationship is too complex to hope for something so simple.”
“No. You’re their child.”
“Their only child.”
“Should that make a difference?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” She hugged Simba until he scrambled free of her hold. “I guess they weren’t distracted by the needs of other children. We’re making progress, but it doesn’t change the fact Dane marked me for life.”
Chandler frowned and set his plate down on the coffee table. “What do you mean marked you?”
“Everywhere I go, men seem to think I’m an easy mark.” She held up a hand as he protested. “You’re different, which is why I let you in here. But others brush against me, make insinuating comments, as if I’m marked for sexual ease. I’ve
learned to keep a moat of distance between me and men. I’ve accepted I’m flawed by experience.” She snorted and it was a harsh sound. “I cannot believe I’m talking about this.”
Chandler carefully kept his body language open yet as physically distant as he could while they sat on the same couch. “So what do you do about it?”
“There’s nothing I can do. It was done to me, and I’m surviving. Thousands of dollars on counselors suggests this is my future.” She collected the empty pizza box and plates and headed for the kitchen.
He followed her into the kitchen, knowing he couldn’t let her create distance between them. “I’m not going to work tomorrow. And you don’t have a job, right?”
“Thanks for the reminder.”
“Let’s do something we can’t do when we’re working stiffs. Let’s explore the Mall. Be tourists in our own backyard. Then Friday you can go back to being there for Tiffany, and I’ll go back to my active duty and veterans.” He could see the conflict on her face. “We’ll forget the mess for a bit.”
“Okay.”
“See, that wasn’t so hard.”
As she let a smile grow on her face, he felt hope rising inside to press against his fatigue from the extraordinarily long day.
CHAPTER 44
THURSDAY, OCTOBER 18
The knock at her apartment door startled Jaime so that coffee sloshed out of her mug and onto her hand. “Ouch.” She glanced at the clock, then turned toward the door. It must be Chandler. “Coming.”
She grabbed the rag from the sink and wiped up the spill before heading to the door, trying to avoid Simba who seemed determined to wind around her legs and trip her. She scooped him up and opened the door. Her heart stuttered a moment as she took in Chandler standing there, Aslan at his side. The man looked like he’d stepped out of a Banana Republic ad in his khakis, sweater, and dark pea coat. How did he keep Aslan’s long, golden fur off that coat?
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