Jack smothered an impulse to groan. “How did she sound?”
“Fucking cheerful. Like she won the lottery. Matter of fact, I think she used the phrase winning the lottery.”
“I’ll give her a call.”
“Now?”
“Liz does yoga at dawn.”
“It must not work. She’s jumpy as hell.”
“She’s dealing with an asshole husband who’s about an inch away from the slammer. Not that she’s knows it, but Morrie’s running out of patience. Anyway, no way she can be calm with that prick in the house.”
“And she’s staying married to him because?”
“Fuck if I know.”
“She waiting for you to propose?”
“No.”
“You sure about that?”
“I don’t need a therapist, okay?”
“Just sayin’. You two have been more than friends for a long time.”
“I’m done talking about this.”
“Okay, have yourself a nice day. I’m going back to sleep.”
“Say hi to Daisy.”
“I don’t think so. She’s still mad at you for not marrying her best friend, Mandy.”
“Christ, since when did any of them think I was interested in marriage?”
“One apparently did.”
“I give up. Talk to you later.”
But it took a couple seconds to decompress after Wade’s comment about Mandy Winkler. The sex had been fantastic, but she had a screw loose when it came to crystals and the supernatural. She was certain she’d been reincarnated from an Aztec goddess. More power to her, but personally, he liked to keep his feet on the ground. In his business, it was a pretty good idea. Rational thought, deductive reasoning and due diligence solved crimes a helluva lot better than lucky charms.
Once he’d mentally consigned crystals and Aztec goddesses to their rightful oblivion, he called Liz. In case Wade was wrong about her mood, Jack was running through a number of soothing remarks when she picked up.
“Good morning,” Liz trilled.
Hallelujah, Wade was right. “You sound happy.”
“Wrap the word in sunbeams and moonlight, hell, throw in the stars too!” Liz joyfully exclaimed. “Crisis over. Now, where the fuck were you when I needed you,” she added, cheerily.
“Sorry I wasn’t around,” Jack apologized. “I was putting some scumbags out of commission; it took a while. But hey, congratulations. Your life’s back on track.”
“I figure I was so stressed out about my fucked up marriage, it messed with my period. I’m filing for divorce today. I need some peace and quiet in my life.”
“Good girl. Smart move. Let me know if I can help.”
Liz snorted. “You mean if your girlfriend lets you help.”
“She will. You’ll have to meet her.”
“You sound awfully sure.”
“Sure enough to invite you to dinner as soon as I get the door back on my house. Some bozo C-4’d my gate and shot up my door. I’ll give you a full report in a day or two. We’re at my mom’s. If you need anything sooner, call. And make sure you use Wade for your divorce. He’ll see that Chris doesn’t get any stupid ideas.”
She laughed. “Any more orders?”
“Sorry.” His voice softened. “I’m glad everything turned out well. I’m even more pleased you’ve pulled the trigger on your divorce. Now get back to your yoga and call me if you need anything.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem. We’re friends.”
“Tell her she’s a lucky girl.”
“Other way around. I’m the lucky one.”
He set down the receiver with a smile on his face. Jesus, everything was falling into place; crises, large and small, over or averted; all the people, places and things he’d been juggling neatly disposed of. The tightrope he’d been walking, the ripple of fury that underlay his search for Jorge’s killers, the shadow of impatience with administrative oversight; it was all gone. He was too cynical to expect he’d feel this way forever, but right now nothing was missing. Everything clicked. The world had stopped spinning out of control. Life was sweet.
And damned if he didn’t smell bacon.
Seriously, things couldn’t get any better. “Come on Sam, let’s go get some bacon.”
On his way downstairs, he stopped to check on Jillian, found her gone and freaked. He quickly looked in the bathroom, just in case, but the door had been left open, so he already knew the answer before peering inside. Jillian was with his mom.
Taking the stairs in swift plunging leaps, he landed hard at the bottom and gasped. Fuuuck. He needed Oxy or some medicinal weed. Bypassing the kitchen, he slipped through the terrace door, walked to his SUV, swallowed a pill and took a quick hit. Walking back into the house, he listened for sounds of discord. No raised voices or screaming. So far so good.
“Darling, how are you?” his mother called out brightly as he entered the kitchen. “How’s your arm? I saw you favoring it last night.”
As a child, he’d wondered whether she had x-ray vision; you couldn’t sneak anything past her. “I’m good. The arm’s good, thanks for asking.” He turned to Jillian who was sitting beside Zeke at the table. She was looking at him with raised eyebrows. Preferring not to field any questions about his wound, he promptly said, “You’re up early. How are you feeling?”
“I feel wonderful.” She smiled at Zeke who was demolishing a pancake, then turned her smile on Jack. “Everything’s absolutely perfect.”
“Good. I’ll make sure it stays that way.” Jack held up his hand. “Promise. We’ll have a perfectly ordinary life from”--
“Come eat bunny cakes wit me!” Zeke shouted, interrupting the conversation. “Wit lots”—waving his fork at the puddle of syrup on his plate, he looked up at his mother.
“Syrup, sweetie. It’s not easy to say.”
“Dat,” Zeke said with an emphatic nod. “Come eat wit me.”
“Jack liked bunny pancakes when he was young, didn’t you, dear?” Leslie Morgan turned from the griddle and smiled at her son.
“I still do, Mom. The bacon smells great too.” He grabbed a couple pieces from a plate on the table and fed it to Sam, sitting on a rug by the door.
“Sit down. I’ll bring you a plate. Coffee or milk or both?”
“Café au lait. I’ll get it,” he said, moving toward the espresso machine.
“Jillian said she didn’t mind if we have the wedding here.” Leslie’s voice was bubbly. “How many pieces of bacon, dear?”
Jack spun around and stared at Jillian. “Did Mom pressure you cause if she did, you can change your mind. I don’t have any trouble saying no to my mother.”
“No--actually I kind of asked your mom if she’d help since I’m going to be really busy making my dress.” Jillian blushed. “I probably should have talked to you first.” While Leslie was incredibly nice, Jillian had no idea what Jack’s feelings were in terms of wedding plans. “Would you prefer another venue? I’m not churchy but if you are”—
“No.” His faint frown slid away. “As long as you and Mom agree it’s fine with me.” Carrying his café au lait to the table, Jack took a seat beside Jillian and lowered his voice. “If something comes up you don’t like and you’re too polite to say no to Mom, tell me and I’ll take care of it. Okay?”
She knew how sappy it was to want him to take care of her in an era of ostensible gender equality. She couldn’t begin to understand it, but she knew better than to verbalize her outre emotions. “That’s not necessary, but thanks.”
He leaned in close for a second. “Who do you think knows my mother better, you unsuspecting child.” His overplayed wink would have done justice to a silent screen villain.
A wisp of a giggle. “Stop it. You’ll embarrass me.”
Her eyes sparkled and he was taken aback as always by the sheer, radiant delight she gave him. A beat passed. “Trust me,” he said, softly. “You’re out of your league when it comes to Mom
’s bulldozing instincts. You need me to play interference for you, baby girl. So be sensible, say yes.” He gave her a long silent look that dared her to refuse.
“Yes,” she whispered, feeling breathless and giddy, his bold, blue-eyed gaze impossibly sexy.
“Thank you.” His lazy smile was effortless.
Watching the exchange between Jack and Jillian, Leslie Morgan heard only faint snippets of their conversation, but their intimacy and affection was heartwarming. Such overt emotion was novel in her son. He’d never been transparent about his feelings; his previous marriage a case in point. Sarah had been a self-centered narcissist constantly demanding attention; Jack had been neglectful, retreating into his work. He may have had reason; obviously, at the last, he had.
Now, unmistakably, he was a man in love; adoring and smitten--an old fashioned word, but apt. Jack had found happiness with a sweet, beautiful, nebulously vulnerable woman. Although that soft vulnerability may have captivated her reckless son. Or maybe the world had simply shifted when they met. An incurable romantic, Leslie believed in love-at-first-sight. And why not? She’d fallen in love with her husband across an operating table in Bangladesh.
“I have a question,” Jack said, interrupting his mother’s musing. “Since we know half the county, how do we manage the guest list?”
Relinquishing blissful thoughts of love for an equally rosy reality, Leslie’s smile blazed to life. “I say invite everyone. We have plenty of room. I thought the rose garden would be perfect with the autumn roses in bloom. However, the decision is up to you two.”
“May I beg off?” Jillian smiled at Jack. “I’m totally wrapped up in my dream dress. I’d rather you and your mom decide.”
Jack was pleasantly surprised. But considering the number of friends who expected invitations, plus Jillian’s occasional shyness, he wasn’t about to ask for further clarification. “There you go, Mom. You have Jillian’s stamp of approval.”
“Naturally, I’ll run everything by both of you.” Leslie tried to suppress the giddiness in her voice and failing, quickly shifted to a mundane subject. “Jack, would you decide on the wines? You know pairings better than any of us.”
“That’s because I like to eat. Email me the menu when it’s ready.” Putting his uninjured arm around Jillian’s shoulder, Jack drew her close and brushed her cheek with a kiss. “Happy?”
“Impossibly happy,” she murmured. “Tingling-all-over happy, thrilled, ecstatic.”
His smile was a flash of tenderness. “Same times infinity.”
“Lucky us, hey?”
Hearing one of his favorite words, Zeke looked up and slapped his pajama-clad chest with his sticky hands. “Me yucky too! Me, me, me!!”
Jack laughed, Jillian said, “Shhh, darling, don’t scream.”
And Leslie Morgan decided the effusive young toddler would be better off scattering rose petals down the aisle than carrying the ring cushion at the wedding.
Chapter 54
At a respectable hour, while his mom was showing Jillian the rose garden and Luis was proudly discharging his first duties as babysitter, Jack went into his mom’s office and called Todd Zimmer’s personal phone.
“Morning Leslie,” the principal answered politely, having seen the caller ID. They worked together on a lunch program Leslie funded for children in food insecure households. “What can I do for you?”
“It’s Jack. Got a minute?”
“Hey, buddy!” Todd’s voice boomed over the line; he was part politician, a necessity in his position. “Got all the time in the world. What’s up?”
“I need a favor.”
“Sure. Anything.”
“Do you remember Jillian Penrose?”
“Of course. She was one of my best teachers. I hated to let her go, but she was one of the last hired. I have rules I have to follow. You know how that goes.”
“I want you to hire her back.”
“Christ, I can’t. There are two other laid off teachers ahead of her on the list.”
“Call her a consultant instead of a teacher. I’ll pay her salary. You must have a fund for special activities.”
“Sorry, no can do. I have statutes up the ass when it comes to hiring.”
“Seriously? You want me to say it? The exact price of the swimming pool with all the cost overruns? And don’t forget you have gym improvements on the agenda.”
“Okay, okay.” His mind racing, Todd ran his hand over his close-cropped sandy hair in a couple nervous sweeps; the gym bids were coming in high. “I’ll figure something out.”
“Thanks, appreciate it,” Jack said, well aware there wasn’t much money couldn’t buy. “We’re getting married. You’ll have to come to the wedding. It’s sometime next week.”
“We as in you and Jillian Penrose? I thought you were the guy who was never getting married again.”
“Changed my mind.” Jack’s voice was blunt with good cheer. “Now if it helps with the rules and regulations call Jillian a liaison between my foundation and the school. But she wants to teach, so I need you to make that happen. And keep this confidential; that means do not tell Stacy.” Todd’s PA was the biggest gossip in the county, rumor had it she was more than an assistant; Jack knew for a fact she was.
“Jesus, that’s asking a lot,” the principal muttered, acknowledging Jack’s allusion to Stacy with a man to man terseness.
“If Stacy could keep her mouth shut, I wouldn’t care. But we both know she can’t and if she wasn’t afraid of losing her cushy job you’d be in trouble. I’m not asking for the moon. This is an easy decision. You get an excellent teacher and it won’t cost you a penny.”
“Easy for you to say. You have fucking millions,” Todd grumbled. “You should work for my salary and see how easy everything is.”
“Screw you. I earned my money the hard way, trying to keep from being massacred week after week on the football field. I’m lucky I lasted as long as I did.”
“Gimme a break. You could catch anything the quarterback threw at you and outrun everyone on the field. That’s why you lasted as long as you did.”
“Anytime you want to compare football injuries and bad knees, dude, let me know.” They’d both been on the same team in high school and college so their friendship went way back. Todd would come through; he just liked to bitch. “Now, get in touch with your kinder, gentler self and send Jillian a nice letter telling her how much you’ll enjoy having her back on staff. And when you get your gym bids, come to me for the funds. Oh, one more thing, we’re going on a honeymoon so mention the teaching job doesn’t begin for a month. Thanks. See you at the wedding.” Gently depositing the receiver on the base, Jack leaned back and softly exhaled.
Done deal.
The next week flew by. Larry and Em babysat Zeke a lot so Jillian could concentrate on her fantasy dress. Jack and Luis oversaw repairs to Jack’s gate, door and bullet scarred entry walls. His mother called fifty times a day with questions, most of which he could answer; those he couldn’t he referred to the wedding planner he’d hired from San Francisco.
“You shouldn’t have hired her,” Leslie had said, tartly, when Jack had given her the news. “I know what I’m doing.”
“Why don’t you consider Elena backup if you have sourcing problems or need a goffer to fetch things,” Jack had replied. “I’m told she’s the choice of whatever passes for society in San Francisco.”
“For heaven’s sake, we’re not provincials up here.”
After a short staring contest, Jack had said, “Come on, Mom, Jillian wants a Cinderella fantasy. I want to give it to her, that’s all.” His mother had caved, he’d known she would. She had the biggest heart in the world.
As for the wedding planner Jack made it clear that she was to help when she could, and to diplomatically retreat when she couldn’t.
“I understand completely, Mr. Morgan. Consider me amenable to all your mother’s requests.” Jack was paying her enough to agree to anything. As for working with Les
lie Morgan, she was a saint compared to some of the clients she’d dealt in the nouveau riche confines of Silicon Valley.
With that minor stumbling block overcome, Jack planned on limiting his participation to selecting the wines for the reception dinner, and standing before the minister with Jillian. Out of caution, he warned his mother about mentioning the 500 guests to Jillian. Although at the moment she was lost in yards and yards of silk lace and tulle and ribbons and pearls he’d had flown up from San Francisco after only a minor disagreement on who was paying for what.
When the materials had been delivered, Jillian had tried to explain the heady euphoria of realizing her childhood dream. After rambling on about Disney films, Cinderella at the ball, her youthful passion for fashion design, her narrative trailed off. “Am I sounding crazy?” She groaned. “Don’t answer that.”
Jack was slouched in a chair, all languid grace and power beneath his jeans and a t-shirt, his brilliant blue eyes bright as his smile. “You sounded great, Bear, even the Prince Charming stuff that’s gonna put pressure on me to live up to the Disney standard. But hey, I’ll give it a try.”
She smiled. “You’re already the gold standard for princely, okay? And thanks for listening. I worry about being selfish spending so much time sewing.”
“You won’t be getting married again,” Jack said with the natural reticence favored by men in authority. “So spend as many hours as you like on your wedding gown.”
Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second. “I can’t decide if that’s disturbing or a declaration of eternal love.”
Leaning forward, he picked her up from the floor where she sat, dropped her on his lap, dipped his head and whispered against her mouth, “Together til the end of time, Jillybean, that’s all I meant.” A smile flickered across his lips as he raised his head. “A word of warning though. I’m wildly possessive.”
“Don’t worry. I know how to complain if I have to.”
“No you don’t.”
A Fine Balance Page 33
