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Sweet Entanglement

Page 3

by Jean C. Gordon


  “You, too. You’re a friend of Lauren’s?”

  The glint in her mother’s friend’s eyes as she gave Jesse a once-over told Lauren what Caroline probably was thinking. She shouldn’t be surprised. She’d grown up in another small town where people were quick to put others together as a couple. And she wasn’t even going to try to figure out why that sowed a flower-pot seed of emptiness in her.

  “Former co-workers,” he said.

  That was all they were? The seed blossomed into a crater. She stabbed a leaf of lettuce and almost sent a cherry tomato sailing across the table. She shouldn’t care. Change that to didn’t care. He’d lied to her. He’d said he’d wait.

  “You remember,” Lauren’s mother said. “Lauren worked at the Team Macachek racing headquarters when she was going to Syracuse University.”

  On school vacations, she’d been the cleaning crew for the lodging the team owned for the members whenever they were at the headquarters or needed somewhere to stay when they were between races. She’d expected Jesse to go there when he’d recovered from his accident. He hadn’t.

  “You’re one of the racers,” Caroline said.

  “I was.”

  His flat intonation tugged at Lauren’s heart. Racing hadn’t been just Jesse’s career. It had been his life.

  Caroline smoothed her apron. “So, you’re retired. I read somewhere that racers often retire in their late twenties or early thirties. Must be nice, but I can’t imagine what I’d do if I didn’t have the café to keep me busy.”

  Her mother opened her mouth to speak and Lauren held her breath that Mom wasn’t going to say Jesse had been forced to stop racing. If he’d wanted Caroline to know about his accident, he would have told her.

  “Jesse is going to have plenty to keep him busy. He’s been hired to renovate the Morrison place,” her mother said.

  Lauren’s breath whooshed out.

  “You don’t say. Then, Jesse, you must know who the new mystery owner is.”

  Before Jesse could answer, their waitress rushed out of the kitchen. “Caroline. We need you in the kitchen. There’s a problem with the delivery.”

  Caroline sighed. “I’d better go. You can fill me in later, Sonja. And before I forget, if you haven’t sent in your reservation for the college reunion, do it today. I don’t want to go and not know anyone there.”

  “Mom and Caroline were college roommates at the University of South Carolina.” Lauren bit her tongue. College was a sore spot with Jesse, or it had been. But, for all she knew about his past few years, he could have gone back and completed three degrees.

  “Yep, back in the dark ages. Caroline invited me here for a visit, and I never left.”

  Jesse’s expression turned thoughtful. “And you followed for law school.”

  “Pretty much. Carolina gave me a good financial aid package.” Lauren wasn’t about to tell him that was only half the reason, that he was the other half. “After Dad sold the house and Mom left Chenango Falls, I didn’t have anything much to keep me there,”

  Jesse dropped his gaze to his plate as if deciding whether to have the last bite of his sandwich or dig into the remaining fries was a decision that required all of his attention. He glanced at the clock on the wall. “I’d better get going, too. I have a 2:15 appointment to make. I’m sure I’ll see you ladies around.”

  Lauren watched Jesse stride across the café, flirt with both their waitress and the woman on the cash register, and exit the building. Had her dig about nothing to stick around for struck a nerve? Her heart rate ticked up. Had it brought up feelings that made him walk away rather than face her? She stared out the glass door and reined in the tempo of her heartbeat. It couldn’t have. She was placing importance on nothing. He’d simply finished his lunch and had an appointment to make. But the Jesse she’d known didn’t walk away from anything.

  Jesse had to bite the side of his mouth to keep himself from laughing at the expression on Lauren’s face when Brittany walked him into Lauren’s office.

  “This is Mr. Brewster. He had a 2:15 appointment with Ray that apparently Ray forgot to reschedule when that other … thing came up.”

  The other thing being golfing with his brother and Ken Kostner. Early this morning, Ray Acer had texted him an invitation to join them. Jesse had declined. But he’d kept the appointment, knowing Lauren would be the only lawyer in. It hadn’t taken any effort at all to convince Brittany to let him consult with Lauren in Ray’s place.

  “It’s about the Morrison estate we were talking about earlier,” Brittany said.

  “I know what it’s about. Come in, Jesse. Take a seat.”

  Brittany stepped back through the doorway and pulled the office door closed behind her, but not before she’d looked from him to Lauren and ended her perusal with a grin and a raised eyebrow.

  Only in his dreams.

  “You’re here to retitle your property, as we talked about this morning,” Lauren said, all business.

  “Yeah, that too.” He’d wanted to get her alone, so they could really talk but was already starting to wimp out. What was there to talk about? The past was over and done with.

  She frowned as she waited for him to take a seat.

  He curled the fingers of his left hand around the top of the chair back and leaned his weight onto it to cover the loss of feeling and sudden weakness in his right foot. A glance told him Lauren hadn’t noticed. She was already bringing up a form on her computer. His pride sighed in relief, while another part of him that he kept locked away ached with wanting to shout, there’s a good reason I stayed away. I’m not the man you wanted anymore.

  Her fingers flew over the keys. “Current address. Your dad’s in California?”

  “No, the caretaker’s place on Uncle Jim’s property. Does it have a separate address from the main house? That would be something I’d need to know.”

  Avoiding his gaze, she minimized the form and opened a document. From where he was sitting, he couldn’t see around the edge of the computer screen to read it. But he could study her profile, the way she bit her lower lip when she was concentrating—or trying to block something out. Him? He didn’t know whether to be hurt or flattered that he still affected her. Not that it mattered. Lauren had always been out of his league, even more so now that she was a lawyer.

  Lauren closed that document and went to an internet map. Probably the town or county tax map. “Here it is. The property has been subdivided.” She ripped a post-it note off her pad and wrote on it. “The cottage’s address.”

  Lauren handed him the note, taking care not to let her fingers brush his. Or was that wishful thinking on his part?

  “I’m surprised Ray didn’t go over that at the reading of the will.”

  “We’ve done everything by mail, my lawyer and me. Mac offered me the services of the team lawyer, even though …” Jesse paused. “Even though I’m not racing anymore.”

  He dropped his gaze to the post-it note as if to memorize the address. Nice going, Brewster. She’d think he couldn’t afford his own lawyer, which he couldn’t. He didn’t even need his own attorney. Mac Macachek, the racing team owner and his former boss, had suggested it when Jesse had mentioned receiving the letters from Acer and Acer. After his mother’s death and the bender he’d gone on for far too long afterwards, Jesse hadn’t been in any frame of mind to read through the documents the law firm had sent him.

  “I’ve never met either of your partners,” he said.

  “I’m not a partner.”

  “Yet,” he said, not doubting that was her plan, nor that she’d achieve it.

  Something flickered in Lauren’s eyes. Uncertainty? She was the most confident person he knew. Or make that had known. Of course, he didn’t know what her life had been the past few years. And could only hope she didn’t know what his had been.

  “I’ll have the deed change recorded with the county.” Lauren was back to business. “I’m surprised Ray hasn’t taken care of it.” She pressed a finger
to her lips as if she wanted to take back her last words and creased her brows.

  The team lawyer had told Jesse that Acer and Acer was the biggest law firm in Indigo Bay—he wouldn’t have expected anything less for Lauren—and had expressed surprise that the firm had taken so long to locate Jesse. Uncle Jim’s will had been simple and specific, everything was to go to Jesse’s mother and to Jesse if his mother died before Uncle Jim. Mom and Dad’s home address hadn’t changed from the one Uncle Jim had in the will until his dad had moved into the rental condo. Jesse had figured the firm had bigger cases to deal with, more important things to do than track him down. That was before Jesse had checked out the beachfront property values in Indigo Bay and learned how prominent the Morrison family had been here.

  “Thanks,” he said. “And if I have any more questions, I can call you?”

  “Ray’s the attorney of record. You should call him.”

  Ah, there was the brush-off he’d been expecting. But she had offered to help him register the deed. What had happened between this morning and now? Maybe she had done a search on what he had and hadn’t been doing since his accident.

  Lauren finished at the computer and leaned back in her chair. “We’d be happy to serve as your real estate attorney.”

  Jesse pinned her gaze with his.

  She blinked and broke the contact. “That’s your plan, isn’t it? To renovate the mansion and sell it?”

  “Yeah, that’s the plan.”

  “Then, back to California and the bike shop?”

  He gripped the chair arms. “Dad sold the shop to pay Mom’s medical bills.”

  She looked as if he’d slapped her. “I … I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

  So she hadn’t Googled him. His stomach clenched. What was with him? He should be glad. “It’s okay. He’s getting used to being semi-retired, doing custom work for a couple shops. He’s got a new condo.” Jesse stopped himself from telling her Dad had had to sell the house, too. “As for me …” Jesse made sure he had Lauren’s full attention for the real reason he’d come. “I have my eye on the old gas station property on Seaside Boulevard your mother told me about for setting up my own custom bike shop after I finish the mansion renovation.”

  C H A P T E R 3

  “Lauren, could I see you in my office?” Ray ordered as much as asked through the phone.

  She hung up and pushed away from her desk, hoping her boss had something for her to work on—anything to work on. She’d spent the time since she’d arrived this morning tidying her office and replaying yesterday from first seeing Jesse at the jail to him striding out of her office. She should have asked him why Indigo Bay and a lot of other questions while he was here. But she’d assured him Mom knew her business, said goodbye, and watched him leave.

  She rubbed her temples. Was that really only yesterday?

  Ray was frowning and tapping his fingers on the desk when she walked in.

  “Brittany said you met with Jesse Brewster yesterday.”

  Lauren eyed the chair in front of her boss’s desk, gauging whether their conversation would be long enough for her to sit. She opted for the leverage of standing. “Yes, he said he had a 2:15 appointment with you, but you and Gerry were golf …”

  Ray’s eyes narrowed.

  “You were out of the office. Mr. Brewster asked to see someone else.”

  “And you volunteered?”

  What was with Ray’s third degree? “Jesse asked about the title to the Morrison house. He said he hadn’t received an updated deed with the property distribution.”

  “Jesse, is it?”

  Lauren straightened to her full height. “Yes, it turns out our new, or new-to-me at least, client is someone I knew back in New York.”

  “I see,” he said with none of the southern charm in his voice he generally used with all women, even her and Brittany.

  This conversation was getting weirder and weirder.

  “I saw the new client file on the network yesterday morning and read through it. Since the estate has already been probated, I filed the updated deed electronically with the county while Jesse was here.”

  Ray made a choking sound.

  Lauren rushed over and patted his back. “Are you all right?” He had had a heart attack last year.

  “I’m fine.” Ray pushed her hand away, muttering what sounded like it was none of your business. “Brewster just called me.”

  Then, why had Ray grilled her when he could have asked Jesse?

  “Evidently, he’s lost the key to the shed on the property. He claimed he never got it, but it was sent to him with the other keys. I need you to run this spare key over to him.”

  “Can’t Brittany do it?” Lauren tried to come up with a plausible reason why she couldn’t.

  Ray’s frown deepened. “He asked for you. Keep the client happy. Ken Kostner is interested in buying the property from Brewster. You might want to drop that bit of information, along with the key.”

  So that was the client Ray wanted to keep happy. Lauren held her hand out for the key, and Ray dropped it in her hand.

  “And stop by the post office for the mail on your way back,” Ray said.

  Annoyance edged up her spine. That was one of Brittany’s duties. But she was going out anyway, and Ray knew her schedule was light—or more accurately—empty. “Sure,” she forced out. And she would tell Jesse about Ken’s interest in the mansion property. As far as she could tell, Jesse could use the sales proceeds. Mom could make a killing on the sale, too. And if Jesse wasn’t stuck here fixing up the property, he might give up the idea of opening his bike shop in Indigo Bay. Her life could go back to normal. No Jesse tornados. No picking up the pieces after he blew back out of town.

  Since Ray hadn’t seemed in any hurry to have her back in the office, Lauren chose to walk to the beach, hoping the bright warm morning sun would burn off the malaise that thoughts of her normal life had brought. She kicked a stone off the sidewalk. She had a good life. A calm, planned life, with the opportunity to head the largest law firm in town once Ray and Gerry retired. Lauren smiled to herself. A life Jesse, as usual, had disrupted. But as attractive a disruption as he was, he was a disruption she couldn’t afford to get caught up in.

  Lauren halted her thoughts and feet at the gate opening to the Morrison mansion’s driveway. An Indigo Bay police cruiser was parked near the caretaker’s house, which was originally the gatehouse. An officer and another person blocked by the officer stood talking with Jesse. She strode down the drive.

  “And here’s my lawyer if you need further proof,” Jesse said when she got within hearing range near the caretaker’s cottage.

  What had he gotten himself into now?

  “Hi, Ben,” she said to the officer, pursing her lips as she recognized the perfectly coiffed, impeccably dressed senior citizen standing next to him. Lucille Sanderson, the biggest busybody in town holding her fluffy white dog, whose jade green collar matched her jade green espadrilles.

  “Lauren.”

  “Is there a problem?” she asked.

  “A misunderstanding,” Ben said, exchanging an amused glance with Jesse.

  “I was taking a walk on the beach and saw this man breaking into a shed,” Lucille interjected, pointing at Jesse. “I called Officer Andrews and stood behind a bush until he arrived.”

  Lauren covered her smile with her hand. The espadrilles must be Lucille’s casual concession to her usual heels for walking on the beach.

  “Walking on my beach,” Jesse added. “And my shed.”

  Lauren glared at Jesse. He was purposely egging the older woman on.

  “So he really does own the Morrison house?” Lucille demanded of Lauren. “I heard the estate had finally been settled.”

  That’s why Lucille had been walking on the beach. She was pretty sure she’d never seen the woman beach walking before.

  “Yes, Lucille, he does,” Lauren said.

  “You’ll be staying here in town?” Lucille asked.
r />   “I will.” The way the corners of Jesse’s mouth twitched belied the seriousness of his tone. “In the caretaker’s cottage while I renovate the big house.”

  Lucille studied him. “You’ll want to meet some young people. I’ll introduce you to my great niece Maggie.”

  Lucille was constantly trying to fix up Maggie, who’d come to visit Indigo Bay last summer and stayed, not that Lauren could see that the woman needed any help in that department.

  “I appreciate that, but I already know Lauren from when we both lived in Upstate New York. She’s offered to show me around town.”

  No, no, no! Lauren wanted to shout. On two counts. Lucille would spread all around town that she and Jesse were old “friends.” And she’d said nothing about showing him around town. Her plan, not that she was succeeding with it, had been to have as little contact as possible with him.

  Ben’s phone beeped. He glanced at the screen. “I’ve got to get back to the station. Lucille, would you like a ride home?”

  “A ride back to my car near the boardwalk would be nice. I’ve tired Princess out with our longer-than-usual walk today.”

  “It was nice to meet you, Lucille,” Jesse said.

  “Yes, once I found out you weren’t a criminal. I’ll get back to you about meeting Maggie.”

  “Yes, you do that,” he said.

  “You shouldn’t encourage her,” Lauren said once Ben and Lucille were in the cruiser.

  He shrugged, nicking her temper.

  “By lunchtime, everyone in Indigo Bay will be speculating about whether we’re just old friends or old friends.”

  “No harm, we are. Both.” The teasing expression left Jesse’s face. “Or maybe you’re ashamed of our connection.”

  “Of course not.” The cinnamon roll she’d splurged on for breakfast sat heavy in her stomach. Or was she? She’d come to Indigo Bay after law school to make a new start. It was a good place for doing that. Look at Mom. That seemed to be what Jesse wanted to do, too. Who was she to stand in his way?

  “You know, making like we’re a couple won’t stop Lucille from trying to fix you up with her niece,” Lauren said in what she hoped sounded like a tease.

 

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