Prodigal Son (12 page)

“It’s brown.”

She grinned. “You’re hopeless.”

“You should even be impressed that I could use
throw
in a sentence.”

“I am.”

He walked toward her and took her hand. “Come on,” he said. “I’ll build us a fire. We’ll get wild back here later.”

“I like that idea.”

She curled up on the sofa while he put in kindling, then actual wood logs. Minutes later, when the fire had taken hold, he joined her on the sofa.

“Comfy?” he asked.

She nodded as she angled toward him. Then, thinking about the lack of personal touches, said, “You know all about my past, but you never talk about your own.”

Nothing about his expression changed, still she sensed him pulling back a little.

“Too sensitive a topic?” she asked.

“Not for me. What do you want to know?”

“What you’ve been doing for the past ten years,” she said, speaking honestly. “Romantically, I mean. I know all about your checkered career path.”

“Checkered? I was a lawyer.”

She smiled. “Exactly. Environmental law I could have understood.”

“Because you have an inherent love of tree huggers.”

“Absolutely. But criminal law. That’s a little scary.”

“Everyone deserves the chance to be defended.”

She sipped her wine. “I don’t actually agree with that. Some people don’t deserve anything but punishment.”

“How can you know they’re not innocent?”

He was being logical, one of his more annoying features. “Sometimes you just know.” She sighed. “Okay, perhaps it’s best I’m not in charge of our criminal justice system. Which is why you’ll be a much better judge than me. But this isn’t what I wanted to talk about.”

“You want to know about my love life.”

“Pretty much.”

He shrugged. “Shelby’s the most significant relationship and you know about her.”

That she’d died. “That must have been so horrible.”

“It wasn’t fun. After her, I didn’t date for a long time.”

“Because you were still in love with her?”

His mouth straightened, which didn’t tell her all that much about what he was thinking. She tried to read the emotions in his eyes, but they flashed by too quickly.

“I’m not sure it was love as much as I didn’t want to answer questions. I never knew when to tell someone I was dating that my fiancée had been killed shortly before the wedding. Too soon and it looked like I was fishing for sympathy. Too late and I was accused of keeping secrets. It was easier not to get involved at all.”

Which all sounded reasonable, she thought, but she didn’t buy into it. He didn’t date because it was too hard to explain his past? Maybe for someone else, but not Jack. He was used to thinking on his feet. As for making a convincing argument, it was what he did for a living.

“So you avoided relationships?” she asked.

“Serious ones. I’ve fallen into a pattern of serial monogamy and it’s working for me.”

“Don’t you get lonely and want more?” She held up her free hand. “I’m asking intellectually. I’m not fishing.”

“You mean love and happily-ever-after.” He shook his head. “I’m not a big believer in that. Are you?”

“I shouldn’t be,” she said slowly. “What with my divorce and all. But I know love exists. I loved Vance, at least at first. Helen loved George.”

“Maybe it’s something women are good at,” Jack said.

“Meaning men aren’t? There’s an abdication of responsibility.”

“I don’t know a whole lot of guys who are in happy relationships. Did my father really love Helen? I hope so, for her sake. But from what I saw about the old man, it seems unlikely. My brothers have sure stayed away from anything serious. Even David, who is the most normal, centered guy I know, has managed to avoid marriage.”

“Are you saying it’s a bad deal for men?”

“No. I’m not advocating that guys need to screw around. I don’t know how anyone gives with his or her whole heart. How do you take that step of faith? In my world, people you love leave.”

“Including Shelby?”

“Especially Shelby.”

But his fiancée had died, Samantha thought. Was it fair to blame her for something that wasn’t her fault?

“Is that why there aren’t any pictures of her around?” she asked. “Because you’re angry with her?”

“I stopped being angry a long time ago. It’s not about anger. It’s about letting go.”

She took another sip of her wine and sighed. “It’s funny—I’m fighting you on your theory about giving it all and truly falling in love when I know Vance didn’t love me. Not the way I loved him. I don’t know what he felt. If you were to ask him, he would swear he loved me. He would talk about all the ways he proved it. But that wasn’t love.”

“What was it?”

She didn’t mean to say anything. The word just sort of slipped out. “Control.”

Jack raised his eyebrows, but didn’t speak. She found herself filling the silence.

“He wasn’t like that before we got married. At least not so much. He might make a suggestion about something I was wearing, or what I planned to cook for dinner. I thought he was interested. I thought it was a good thing.”

“It wasn’t?”

“No. He began to monitor my life. How much time I spent at work, how long it took me to get home. He wouldn’t let me wear certain things. He said they were too sexy. He accused me of being interested in a couple of guys at work, which was crazy. I wasn’t interested in anyone. Then he started telling me it didn’t matter because no one…”

She swallowed. Okay, how had she gotten into
this
conversation. Big mistake.

“Because no one what?” Jack asked.

She stared at her lap. “Because no one else would want me. He said I was lucky he wanted me.”

“He abused you.” Jack’s words were flat.

She looked at him. “He didn’t hit me.” She made a harsh sound that was supposed to be close to a laugh. “Isn’t that horrible? I told myself that for more than two years. He wasn’t hitting me so it couldn’t be abuse. He was just tired, or I’d made him angry. But he would scream at me and make me feel useless and small. I told myself I was letting it happen, because no one can make you feel anything if you don’t let them, right? So there was something wrong with me. But I didn’t know how to fix it and Vance was always there, in my face, speaking my worst fears.”

She felt the tension in Jack and didn’t want to know what he was thinking. Just talking about her past made her feel small and ashamed.

“I was a fool,” she said quietly. “I equated attention with love. Vance was attentive. Too attentive. He separated me from my friends, my mom, he didn’t like me spending long hours at work. I saw what I had become and I hated it. But I didn’t know how to make it better.”

“You left,” he said.

She nodded. “I can’t even tell you what happened. One day I came home and he was complaining about my clothes and my body and telling me I was stupid and I just snapped. I threw a vase at him. It hit him in the chest, then dropped to the floor. He screamed louder, saying I was in trouble now. It was like he was my father and I was his child. I suddenly realized I didn’t have to be there. So I left.”

Jack didn’t say anything, but she could hear him thinking.

“You’re judging me,” she said, feeling defensive and vulnerable.

“No. You got out. That takes courage.”

All the right words, but why was he staring at her as if she were a bug? “But?” she asked.

“I’m surprised it happened at all. You’re strong and powerful. I wouldn’t have thought a guy like that could mess with you.”

“You’re saying I should have seen it coming.”

“No. Why would you? You trusted this guy. Any signs would have been…”

“Signs?”

He shifted uncomfortably. “No one changes overnight.”

“I see. So you think I missed big clues. That I’m as much to blame?”

“No. Not to blame. If you’d never been in the situation before, you couldn’t have known. You got out. You fought.”

She stood. She hated this. Hated what had happened, hated telling him. She felt exposed and flawed. Unworthy.

“We can’t all make perfect decisions,” she said, trying not to get angry, knowing her temper was a defense mechanism. “I screwed up with Vance. While it was happening, I kept wondering what I’d done wrong. Was I listening to my mother? Subconsciously trying to keep a rich powerful guy around so I would be safe? Only I wasn’t safe. And if I knew that, why was leaving so hard? That’s what I hate. How hard it was to go. How long it took me. I’m sure this is all too confusing for you. Your world is simply black and white. You don’t get involved. You don’t risk anything. That does make things simpler, doesn’t it?”

“Samantha.” He stood and moved toward her.

She flinched, then put her wine on the coffee table. “This wasn’t a good idea. I need to go.”

“Wait. We should talk.”

Suddenly, she couldn’t. The past was there, pressing down on her. He was wrong—Vance
had
changed so completely. There had been no warning. Vance had been so much like Jack.

She hurried out of the condo and ran for the elevator. Jack followed. The doors opened and she slipped inside.

“Samantha, wait.”

But she didn’t and when she got back to her apartment, he didn’t bother to come after her.

Chapter Eleven

J
ack had no idea what had gone wrong with Samantha. He mentally went over their conversation several times and still wasn’t sure where they’d derailed. What had he said to upset her? Did she think he wasn’t impressed she’d gotten away? A lot of women didn’t. There were several cases in his law office, abusive husbands who had murdered their wives. Those women hadn’t been able to get away, but Samantha had.

He clicked on another computer file, hoping work would distract him. Unfortunately, it didn’t. He kept seeing the hurt in Samantha’s eyes, the pain as she ran from him, as if he were just like Vance.

Vance. Is that where he’d gone wrong, saying that there had to be signs? He believed that was true. Maybe Samantha hadn’t seen them, but he, Jack, was willing to bet that there had been clues.

Not that he would say that to Samantha now. He doubted she wanted to speak with him about anything personal. He hadn’t heard from her in a couple of days and he sure as hell didn’t know how to open the lines of communication.

Under normal circumstances, he would simply accept that the relationship had unworkable flaws and move on. He’d told himself to do that just this morning. The only problem was he didn’t want to move on. He wanted to know that Samantha was okay. He wanted to explain that he’d never meant to hurt her, and then he wanted to find a way to make it all right between them.

Yeah, right—because he had so much success in his personal relationships. Based on his track record, Samantha should stay as far away from him as possible.

He glanced at his watch and groaned. The last full staff meeting before Samantha’s website launch was due to start in ten minutes. So he was going to have his desired chance to speak with Samantha. Unfortunately, it would be in front of her entire team and the IT guys.

He collected his notes and walked to the main conference room. Samantha and her people were already there, setting up their video presentation. Jack nodded and took a seat at the conference table, doing his best not to notice how feminine and sexy she looked in her loose, flowing blouse and long skirt.

“Morning,” Samantha said, her smile bright, but still not reaching her eyes. “We’re on schedule with everything. If you’ll just give us a minute to fix a few last minute glitches, we’ll be good to go.”

“Take your time,” Jack told her.

Arnie burst into the room and hurried to her side. After an intense, whispered conversation, Arnie handed over a memory stick, then grinned and took the seat next to Jack’s.

“Hey,” the younger man said. “Pretty exciting stuff, huh? We’ve been working day and night to get the website ready to launch. Some of the interactive stuff is going to blow everyone away.”

“That’s what we’re looking for,” Jack said as Roger walked into the room.

Arnie’s boss sat across from Jack.

“Morning,” Jack said.

Roger nodded, not looking happy. “This has all been rushed through,” Roger said. “I hope we can meet the deadline.”

Jack looked at Arnie, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “We’ll get there, boss. You’ll see.”

Jack knew that the website wasn’t Roger’s idea of a good time. What he didn’t understand was how someone could get to be the head of the IT department and not be interested in innovation.

Samantha stepped in front of the conference table. “All right, we’re ready. Welcome to the new and improved Hanson Media Group interactive website for children. Today I’m going to give you a detailed look at the website—what’s available, what’s new, what we can expect to launch over the next six months. If you’ll please direct your attention to the large screen on the wall, I’ll begin.”

Over the next ninety minutes, she outlined the website. Jack took a few notes, but mostly he divided his attention between the screen and Samantha.

She spoke with the confidence of someone who knew her material and believed in what she was doing. She fielded questions and offered opinions. When the discussion got too technical, she handed control over to Arnie, who explained things to the point where Jack was lost in a sea of computer terms.

When they’d finished, Samantha invited them all to the launch party Wednesday afternoon, when the site went live.

Everyone rose. Jack lingered until he and Samantha were the last two in the room.

“Good job,” he said. “Arnie’s worked out well for you.”

She nodded. “He’s been great. He’s not only good at the technical stuff, but he understands the creative process. He’s a big fan of yours and your dad’s. He talks about George all the time. How George was really there for him.”

“Good to know,” Jack said. “Think he would be interested in running the department?”

She frowned. “Why do you want my opinion?”

“You’ve worked with him. You know how he thinks, what he’s like. Could he do the job?”

“I think so. You’re going to fire Roger?”

Jack sighed. “I don’t know. I’m going to talk to him about his attitude. If he can’t get onboard with what we’re doing, then yes. It’s never my first choice, but sometimes it has to be done. Given that, I would prefer to promote from within.”

“Arnie’s really popular with the IT team. That can be both good and bad. He might not enjoy the transition from one of the guys to being in charge.”

“Once I decide what I’m doing with Roger, I’ll talk with Arnie,” Jack said. “I appreciate your candor.”

She smiled. “No problem. As you know, I have opinions on nearly everything. Anything else you want to know about?”

What went wrong between the two of them, he thought, but before he could ask, she collected her files and tablet.

“Never mind,” she said quickly. “I have another meeting.”

And then she was gone.

She’d always done that, he reminded himself. Disappeared when the going got tough. Ten years ago, when he’d pushed for more, she’d resisted and then she’d retreated. She proved his point about people leaving.

So he should just forget about her. It was the intelligent thing to do. And he would. Just as soon as he figured out how to get her out of his head…and his heart.

* * *

“So what exactly is the problem?” Helen asked.

Samantha writhed on the cream-colored sofa and covered her face with her hands. “Nothing.”

“Of course I believe you, what with how calmly you’re acting.”

“It’s crazy. It’s dumb.”

Her friend curled up in the club chair opposite and tucked her feet under herself. “You screwed up.”

Samantha looked at her. “Do you have to be so blunt?”

“It seems called for. What’s the problem? Did you blow it with Jack? I know it’s not work related. I’ve only been hearing good things about you in that respect.”

“Really? What kind of things?”

“They would not be the point of this conversation. What happened?”

Samantha flopped down on the sofa and groaned. “I blew it. Seriously. I’m going to be a cautionary tale.”

Helen waited expectantly but didn’t speak.

Samantha groaned. “Fine, I’ll tell you, but it’s not pretty.”

She detailed the conversation she’d had with Jack at his place a few days ago.

“I freaked,” she admitted after she’d shared the specifics. “He didn’t really say anything that bad, it was all me. I felt guilty and embarrassed and stupid. As if I’d disappointed him somehow. As if it were my fault. I didn’t like feeling that way. I didn’t know how to deal with it so I overreacted. Worse, I blamed him.”

“Actually, I think the worse part is that you walked out without explaining.”

Samantha raised her head and glared at her friend. “You’re not being helpful.”

“Of course I am. I’m telling you the truth. The problem isn’t that Jack couldn’t handle the past, it’s that you still can’t. You don’t want to believe you were that stupid.” Helen smiled. “I’m saying this with love. You know that, right?”

“Yes. I feel the love. Sort of. It’s me. It’s all me. I’m ashamed and I feel like an idiot. I’m strong and tough, just like Jack said. How did I let some guy abuse me? How did I let him cut me off from my support system? Why couldn’t I see the signs?”

“Because you weren’t looking for them. You took Vance at his word. That’s not exactly a crime.”

“Maybe not, but it turned out to be poor judgment on my part. I feel horrible.”

“I’m not the one you should be sharing your feelings with.”

Samantha rolled onto her side. “You’re saying I need to go talk to Jack.”

“I can’t think of another way to fix the situation.”

“But what if he hates me?”

“Gee, what if you stopped being so dramatic?”

Samantha grinned. “Okay. Hate is strong. What if…” She sat up. “What if he doesn’t respect me anymore?”

“What if he does? There’s only one way to find out what he’s thinking and that’s to ask him.”

Samantha knew her friend was telling the truth. “So when do I get to be the mature one in the relationship?”

“Next time.”

“Ha. Like I believe that. You’re so good at this. I guess it’s because you had a great marriage. I want that. I want someone to love me and care about me, all the while seeing me as an equal.”

“If you really want it, it will happen.”

“Sort of like if you build it, they will come?”

“Yes, but this time in a romantic sense. If you know what you want, it’s within your grasp.”

Meaning Jack. Did she want him? Them? “We’re doing the serial monogamy thing,” she said. “Nothing long term.”

“Okay, then after Jack.”

After. Right. Because what were the odds of finding someone better than him? Someone more honest and funny and charming and better in bed?

“He doesn’t want more,” Samantha said. “He told me so.”

“Do you know why?”

“Sort of. He doesn’t believe people stay.”

“A lot of people have left him, including you.”

“I don’t want to think about that.”

“Maybe it’s time you should,” Helen said. “Why did you go?”

“Because I thought he’d hurt me. I thought he was too much like my father. But he’s not. Although Vance was. This is confusing.”

“What do you know for sure?”

“That I have to tell Jack I’m sorry.”

Helen smiled. “Want me to show you out?”

* * *

Jack was home and he answered the door right away. Samantha had been hoping for a bit more time to figure out what she was going to say to him.

“Hi,” he said and stepped back. “Want to come in?”

Just like that. No recriminations, no questions as to whether or not she was going to bite off his head.

“Thanks. Is this a good time?” she asked as she moved into the foyer and looked around for Charlie. Dogs were always a good distraction.

“Sure. What did you have in mind?”

He looked so good that she wanted to skip the conversation and suggest they move into the bedroom. He’d pulled on a sweater over worn jeans and pushed up the sleeves. He wore socks, but no shoes and had that weary end-of-the-day stubble that made her want to rub her hands against his jaw.

“I have a couple of things I’d like to say,” she told him instead, not because it was the mature thing, and therefore the most Helen-like, but because she had a bad feeling he wouldn’t be interested in sleeping with her right now.

Charlie came strolling down the hall, his yawn betraying his most recent activity.

“Did you just get up?” she asked the dog as she bent over and rubbed his ears.

“He had a tough day at doggy day care,” Jack told her. “Apparently he played until he dropped from exhaustion.”

That’s right. Big tough ol’ Jack took his dog to day care. How was she supposed to resist that?

“Come on,” he said, leading the way into the living room. “Have a seat.”

“Okay.” She followed him, then perched on the edge of the seat cushion. “I just wanted to apologize for what happened the last time I was here. I kind of lost it.”

He sat at the other end of the sofa and faced her. “You seemed upset.”

“I was. And hurt and embarrassed. I sort of took all that out on you.” Wait. There was no
sort of.
“I
did
take that out on you. I thought you were judging me.”

“Samantha, I wasn’t,” he told her. “Never that.”

“I figured that part out later. By then I was home and giving myself a stern talking-to. The thing is, I’m not proud of what happened with Vance. I still don’t know how I let him take control of me, of the situation. I’ve tried to learn from what happened. The control thing started so small. With little tiny suggestions. They grew and before I knew it…”

She shrugged. “My point is, it was my problem. Your comment about seeing clues was valid.”

“Maybe, but it was poorly timed,” he admitted. “It’s a guy thing—wanting to fix. I know better.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I just hated believing you think badly of me.”

“Not that.” He moved close and took her hands in his. “Never that. I admire what you did. You found yourself in a hellish situation and you got out. You fought. Shelby didn’t.”

What? “What does your late fiancée have to do with my poor judgment with men?”

He released her hands and stood. “I told you Shelby died shortly before our wedding, but there’s more to it than that. She’d been depressed for a while. Looking back, I suspect she’d been depressed all her life. We met during one of the times when she was feeling good. It didn’t last.” He walked to the window and stared out at the city.

“I didn’t understand what was happening,” he admitted. “She would get so sad and withdrawn. It was almost as if she disappeared from life. I thought it was me. I thought I was doing something wrong. But then the depression would ease and we’d be fine. She started seeing a therapist and she put her on medication. It helped. For a while. That’s when I proposed. I figured this was just a manageable disease, like diabetes. I was wrong.”

Samantha didn’t know what to think. Jack was so vibrant and full of life. She couldn’t imagine him with someone who was too depressed to deal with the world.

“Planning the wedding was too much,” he said, his back to her. “I figured that out too late to do anything. Her mother tried to help. Helen offered, but I wasn’t willing to deal with her. We had a bad storm and Shelby went driving in it. She lost control. At least that’s what the police said. It was an accident.”