What Janie Wants

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What Janie Wants Page 7

by Rhenna Morgan


  She whacked his thigh and settled back against him.

  “You really think it’s that simple?” he said. “Just talking to a lawyer?”

  “Oh, I don’t know about simple. Lawyers are never simple, but I’d say there’s usually a loophole somewhere. Seems like I heard Gerald talk about one company who didn’t uphold the quality or the mission of the business, and the seller was able to get the company back for breach of something or other. I don’t know what it’s called. Seriously, have a lawyer check the contract out. You just need a knowledgeable set of eyes.”

  Zade unfastened her hair clip and finger-combed the untamed mess.

  Easing into his casual touch, Janie closed her eyes and soaked in the moment. The sun, the wind, the steady swish of water spraying as the hull cut a clear path toward home. Oh, if Emmy could only see her now.

  “So, you’re a free woman now,” Zade said. “One kid already in college and another leaving soon. What’s your next step?”

  Wasn’t that the sixty-four thousand dollar question. Or in this day and age, the sixty-four million dollar question. Geez, she was old. “I guess that’s what Emmy sent me here for. To figure out what to do next.”

  “Emmy?”

  “My baby sister. She lives as large and loud as the colors she wears, and has never met a stranger. She might be five years younger than me, but I’ll swear she’s got the spirit of a wise man.”

  “An old soul.”

  Janie cackled loud enough, it should have brought Pedro scrambling over the center cabin. “God, don’t let her hear you say she’s old anything. I’ve never met a woman more determined to fight the aging process.”

  “If she’s anything like you, she won’t have to fight hard.” He combed her hair to one side of her neck. “Do you have any places you want to start? Ideas you want to pursue?”

  All the peaceful sounds around her reverberated loud as cymbols in her head, and the unfamiliar panic she’d been fighting since Gerald dropped his I’ve-fallen-in-love-with-someone-else speech surged to full pitch. “I have absolutely no idea.”

  Zade laced his fingers with hers, comforting without being overbearing.

  “The alimony will cover me for as long as I need it to and the house is paid off. Needless to say, Gerald felt obliged to give it to me in the divorce. Still.” She shook her head. “Living off him doesn’t sit well with me. I want to be a model for McKenna. To show her it’s important for a woman to be able to take care of herself.”

  “Did you do anything when the kids were growing up? Volunteer anywhere?”

  “Oh, yeah,” she said. “PTA, church, a few of the sports organizations the kids were involved with. I was quite the take-charge, figure out how to get it done woman.”

  “So maybe you start there.” He edged out from behind her and met her gaze. “You said you wanted to go back to school. Why not look at a business management degree? Hell, you zoned in on a solution to my problem quick enough.”

  School. Tests and studying. Class schedules and credit hours. All those things she’d helped her kids with. “You don’t think it’s too much to take on? I mean, I’d stick out like a sore thumb on any kind of campus.”

  Zade scoffed. “Hardly. You really think you’re the only adult over the age of thirty readjusting their life? I bet half my bachelor’s graduating class had at least twelve years on me.”

  Twenty-six years old, barely out of college, and she’d slept with him. Was running around topless as footloose and fancy free as her sister always encouraged her to be.

  “Something wrong?” he said.

  “I keep forgetting you’re younger than me. You don’t act like it.” She glanced down at her bare torso. “Well, except when you’re trying to talk me out of my clothes.”

  “Out of curiosity, how old is your husband’s new interest?”

  “Twenty-four.”

  “So what’s the difference?”

  Well, damn. He had her there. “Okay, I’ll grant you it’s a double standard. But I guarantee you some of the people at church would deem me a cradle robber.”

  The horizon shifted and her hair slanted across her face as Zade flipped her to her back on the trampoline. “Cradle robber, huh?”

  Pedro’s voice floated from behind the raised partition shielding them from view. “Five minutes to shore, señor.”

  Zade studied her a moment, a wicked glint in his eye, then tugged his T-shirt free of the beach bag. He tossed it to her and stuffed her bikini top where the shirt had been. “Then maybe we need to go back to the resort and do some things that would shock them for reasons that have nothing to do with age.”

  Five days into her vacation and probably ten pounds heavier, Janie plucked the last bite of the best lobster she’d ever eaten off the tiny tabletop grill and dunked it in a bowl of drawn butter. “You weren’t kidding with the food. Thank God I brought mostly sundresses. I won’t fit into my shorts by the time I head home.”

  “You can’t come to Fifth Avenue and not eat at La Parrilla. I think it flies in the face of tourist law.” Zade rested an arm on the wrought iron balcony rail overlooking the busy street below. No cars were allowed, but tourists strolled thick up and down the many storefronts with everything from cheesy T-shirts to Cuban cigars. “This place looked a whole lot different when I first came to visit Arlo and Dahlia. I’m glad the area’s drawing more people, but I hope they can hang on to Gypsy Cove so some of the old feel sticks around.”

  A ceiling fan with fat blades and a motor big enough to power a small plane whirred above them, making the early evening heat far more bearable. Color surrounded her on all sides. Gold stucco walls trimmed in cobalt blue, terra cotta tile floors with bold yellow suns painted in the center of each square, and red, green, and white Mexican banners crisscrossed on the ceiling.

  Lovely. A picture she couldn’t imagine ever forgetting. And Zade had given it to her. She nudged her plate away and leaned back in her chair. “I’m stuffed.”

  “Don’t forget the sopaipillas.”

  She rubbed her stomach like that might somehow make more room. “Oh, no. I need about four hours on the treadmill to offset the chips and guacamole alone. And you knew better than to get me the big margarita. I haven’t finished any of the jumbo sized ones yet.”

  “We’ll tackle calorie burn later.” He tore the corner off one of the four cinnamon pastries he’d ordered despite that she’d told him not to, and dragged it through a pile of honey. “Right now we’ve got dessert to enjoy and tacky souvenirs to buy.”

  The guy had endless energy. For three days in a row, he’d taken her one simple desire to explore new places to heart and surprised her every morning with a new tour. Swimming with dolphins, manatees, and sea lions, a tour of Mayan ruins, and a frigid float down an underground river.

  He wiped his fingers and planted his elbows on the table, studying her with a crooked grin. The same amused, yet content expression he’d watched her with since that first day on the beach.

  “What?” She straightened and tidied the table. Anything to distract herself from trying to read too much into what his look meant.

  “Trying to figure out if I want to give you something or not.”

  She barked out a laugh loud enough to make the bartender’s head whip in their direction. Covering her mouth and waving an apology toward the bar, she said in a lower voice, “You’ve carted me all over Riviera Maya for the last three days and curled my toes until I slept like the dead for three nights. What else could you want to give me?”

  His gaze skimmed down to her breasts, then back up to her eyes. “Curled your toes, huh?”

  Okay, maybe the industrial grade ceiling fan wasn’t enough for August in Mexico. She fanned herself and shifted in her chair. “Like you don’t already know that. If I pump your confidence any higher, half the women at the resort will instantaneously combust.”

  He ducked his head.

  Good grief, was he blushing?

  Yep. He looked back up, an
d a hint of pink dotted his sharp cheekbones. He pursed his lips a minute, thoughtful, and then pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket. “You know that idea you had? About my business and talking to a lawyer?” He unfolded the papers, and held them so she couldn’t see the print. “Well, I called a guy Arlo recommended the next morning while you were still asleep and sent him a copy of the contract. While I was up there I did a little surfing on Arlo’s computer for you, too.”

  “For me?”

  The papers bobbed from the steady swirl of the wind above. “So, don’t take this as a push, all right? I just thought I’d show you there are a lot of options out there.”

  He cleared a space between them and smoothed the sheets out so they faced her.

  Business Administration. Business Management. Business Technology.

  She thumbed through the pages. “These are degree programs.”

  “Did you know there are fifty colleges offering programs within fifteen miles of Dallas?”

  “No.” She probably should, with one kid already burning through tuition and another about to start, but McKenna and Thomas had picked their ideal locations long before she’d ever thought to research.

  “Yeah, blew my mind, too. But there are a ton of options out there. And if the classroom thing bugs you out, you can always do an online program. At least to start.”

  College. At her age. That hadn’t been just lip service he’d given her when he’d first mentioned it. “You really think I can do this.”

  “Uh, yeah.” He sat back in his chair, knees wide and hands loose in his lap. “You’re a smart woman, Janie. Practically every place we’ve gone you’ve jumped in to help people when they needed it. You fix things that need fixing before people even realize something’s wrong.”

  “Pfft. Name one.”

  “The new hostess when she got the parties waiting for a table confused.”

  “Well, her trainer shouldn’t have left her alone with so many people waiting.” She smoothed her napkin out on her lap. “That was just common decency.”

  He rested his chin on his hand. “What about the couple with the mixed up itinerary at the resort?”

  “What about them?”

  “You could’ve waited until Arlo made it up from his office, but you jumped on the business center computer and helped them track down what was wrong.”

  Hmmm. She had jumped in pretty easily.

  “I see you’re getting it.” He leaned in, pulled one of her hands from the stack of papers, and clasped it. “What I don’t think you realize is you do it all the time. Quickly. Without thinking. And always with a smile.”

  But those were small things. Surely nothing that would translate into a career.

  Business Administration: Majors in business administration should expect to focus on learning and developing the skills necessary to plan, organize and manage the many aspects involved in running a business, including business processes and financial analysis. Students will be prepared to excel in a variety of business opportunities in different industries. Potential job titles a graduate of this program might expect to fill: Human resources manager, business analyst, or operations analyst.

  Wow. Janie McAlister. In an office. A professional. “But the things I do can’t be equated to real world office-type things.”

  He shuttled his thumb back and forth against the pulse at her wrist. “My attorney called while I was getting ready for dinner. That clause you mentioned, the one that requires the seller to maintain the integrity of the company? Mine has something like that. The attorney thinks I have grounds to get my business back. I don’t call that small. And you gave me the direction I needed.”

  “Oh.” Her stomach flipped on his behalf and her heart jolted. She’d really helped him. “I guess that one’s a little bigger.”

  He smiled big enough to flash his perfect white teeth, eyes sparkling. “That one made my fucking day.”

  The waiter bustled to the table with two young helpers and cleared the dishes. “All finished, señor?”

  Zade handled the check, taking time to chat with the man, as he did with everyone. No one was a stranger. Everyone was equal. He’d alluded to visually appreciating women and certain aspects of the world when he’d described his business, but he’d sold himself short. Watching Zade watch the world was a beautiful thing in itself. The sharpness in his eyes. The way his gaze scanned the entire picture, capturing every detail. The way his mouth softened and parted when something powerful struck his interest.

  “You okay?”

  People strolled on either side of them, and a cluster of kids giggled near a storefront where a man made a flamenco string puppet dance to a song on the radio. Talk about inattentive. She’d made it down a flight of stairs and past a thick crowd of diners without realizing where she was. “Sorry. Was off in my head, thinking about your idea.”

  “Don’t follow it if it doesn’t feel right. It’s what you want that’s important. Sounds like you’ve helped everyone else in your life. Now’s a chance for you to figure out what you want.”

  What she wanted. Three little words that seemed to broaden the universe in one dramatic swoop. Liberating. Powerful. Scary as hell. “Thank you.”

  His eyebrows dipped in the center. “For what?”

  God, she’d misjudged him with the age thing. She’d never met a man so honest. Genuine and giving. Emotionally open and mature. “For helping me with ideas. Seeing me in a different light.” More words snagged on the back of her throat. Raw words that would expose more than she should.

  Ah, to heck with it. After what he’d given her, a little honesty would be good. “For helping me see I’m still beautiful. That I’m not washed up. That wrinkles and gravity aren’t the end of me, just a different part of my story.”

  He stopped in the middle of the street, pulling her to a stop beside him. Cupping her face on either side, he brushed his thumbs along her cheekbones. “You’re not the kind of woman who’ll ever be washed up. There’s too much light in you. Any man who doesn’t want to drown himself in that brightness doesn’t deserve the good that comes with it.”

  Flutters danced in her stomach and her breaths turned shallow. So perfect. A man she could trust and rebuild her world with. To look at the world with a fresh set of eyes.

  Except he lived over fifteen hundred miles away.

  From behind them, a booming, masculine voice rang out. “Hey, Zade.”

  Janie spun with Zade.

  The man who’d been with Zade the day they met ambled from one of the beach-party dive bars. At his side was a beautiful girl with perfect blond highlights, too much makeup for her naturally pretty face, and not nearly enough clothes. God, help her if McKenna came home from her first year of college the same way.

  Zade offered his hand as the couple strolled up. “Hey, Devin.” He wrapped an arm around her. “You remember Janie.”

  “Hard not to remember the ball buster.” He tipped his head toward Janie, an awkward attempt to be polite and still appear cool in front of his girlfriend, as if he’d hadn’t already blown it with the ball buster comment. “How ya doin’?”

  “I’m great, thank you.” Janie held out her hand to the girl. “I’m Janie McAlister.”

  The girl gnashed her gum, zigzagged her gaze between Janie and Zade, and shook the hand offered. “Hey. I’m Nelly.”

  With a beer fisted in his free hand, Devin motioned toward the beach. “We’re headin’ back to the resort for a poolside party. You guys wanna come?”

  Zade glanced at Janie and rubbed his chin. “Um.”

  Like she’d be any help on this one. Her experience with pool parties usually involved wine and business deals. This one was probably more along the line of beer, loud music, and lots and lots of splashing, with or without the bathing suit. She rolled her lips inward to stifle a grin, and shrugged.

  “Yeah, sure,” Zade said. “We’ll stop by when we get back.”

  “Cool.” Devin chin-lifted at Janie and tugged
Nelly closer as they strolled away. “See y’all back at the cove.”

  They’d barely made it out of earshot before Zade’s laughter rumbled around Janie. “You know we don’t actually have to go. I doubt they’ll even remember it if we do.”

  “I don’t mind. I’ll chalk it up to getting an inside track on what my kids are up to at college.”

  His thumb idly stroked the top of her hand as they strolled toward the taxi line at the end of the street. “You know, not all people his age are like that.”

  Well, heck. She’d kind of earned that comment, along with the zap to her conscience. She cleared her throat. “It’s been brought to my attention by an increasingly reliable source, I might have been guilty of lumping all individuals of a certain age bracket into one bucket.” She peeked up at him. “I’m working to readjust my perceptions.”

  He lifted her hand and nipped her knuckles. “I’ll volunteer for any personal assistance you might need on that score.”

  “Ha.” She snatched her hand free and playfully swatted his arm. “Any more personal assistance and—”

  “Katie!” A woman’s frantic voice rang out behind them.

  A little girl with tiny pigtails and pale pink bows darted beside Zade, headed straight for the busy line of taxis.

  Zade spun, caught her at the waist, and swept her high in the air before her white-sandaled foot could step from the curb.

  Her giggled shriek echoed in all directions.

  “Oh, God. Thank you.” The mother yanked the child from Zade’s easy hold and clutched her tight. “Baby, I told you, you have to stay close to mommy. You could’ve been hurt.”

  Undaunted by her mother’s lectures, the little girl beamed up at Zade, who fussed over and ogled her just as brightly. The father hustled up with a little boy in tow, and offered his thanks as well.

  He’d want kids. Even if by some miracle they could make a long distance relationship work, kids were something she couldn’t give him. Not this late in life. Technically, she could make it happen, but realistically, she’d barely made it through the two she’d already raised. He deserved to know that joy, and he’d make an amazing father.

 

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