A Marriage Between Friends (2 page)

Vince was listening intently to the council chairman, Arnie Eagle. He wouldn’t even notice her leaving. It was probably her imagination that he’d recognized her at all.

As Jill drew even with Vince’s shoulder, she couldn’t resist saying half under her breath, “I won’t let you build a casino here.”

Vince held up a hand, stopping Arnie midsentence—no small feat—and turned to Jill, his dark gaze commanding. “We’ll discuss that—and more—later.”

Teddy’s eyes were as big as saucers.

“Ohhh,” Edda Mae sighed as if this was a scene in one of her beloved romance novels.

Without a word, Jill made her escape. It wasn’t until her hand hesitated with the key in the ignition that she realized she’d nodded her assent.

“Y
OU’VE BEEN
very patient.” With the rolling gait of a veteran horseman, Arnie escorted Vince out, his flashlight illuminating the dirt road.

“Everyone deserves their questions answered,” Vince said. Arnie didn’t realize that nothing was ruining this one for Vince, not potholed roads or long-lost wives who tossed down the gauntlet without so much as a
how’ve you been.

“But you’re probably anxious to see your family,” Arnie said, unable to hide his curiosity.

Vince bit back a bitter laugh. Jill wasn’t family. He knew she’d settled in Railroad Stop. But he hadn’t expected her to treat him as if he’d been the one who left.

“I’ve got four of our tribal-council members behind this project. Our vote is just a formality if your offer is fair.” Arnie’s voice dragged Vince’s attention back.

He smiled. Vince was willing to take a chance on Arnie. A graduate of Stanford, Arnie had made a respectable fortune selling his interest in a dot.com before the industry busted. Even if the casino venture wasn’t a sure thing, Arnie and his colleagues had conducted an environmental-impact study last year and hired an architect to draw up plans. They were further down the path than any other tribe Vince had contacted recently, and his best bet.

“Then comes the challenge,” Arnie said. “Getting Railroad Stop to agree. We’ll have one more town meeting and then the city council makes a recommendation and the citizens vote. If it weren’t for our mayor, I’d say we’d have a really good chance.”

At least now Vince knew what, or rather, who, was priority number one. “Leave the mayor to me.”

Arnie chuckled. “I plan to.”

Before Vince had a chance to ask Arnie more about the mayor they reached his car.

“Is this fancy rig yours?” Arnie stopped and bathed Vince’s black Porsche in the beam of his flashlight. “You’ll need four-wheel drive come November.”

“Not very practical for up here, is it?” Vince allowed, not that he planned to drive anything else but the sleek bullet. Venture capitalists had to look successful. Appearances were everything. “Can you give me directions to the nearest hotel?” It was best to get that business over with early so he could focus on the mayor. He would check in and then head over to Jill’s.

“There are no hotels in Railroad Stop. You could drive about forty-five minutes down the mountain to Mokelumne Hill, but there’s a storm brewing and it’s going to get nasty.” Arnie paused, watching Vince carefully as he said, “You should probably just head on over to Shady Oak. Jill bought the place from Edda Mae last spring. She’s got enough beds to spare, I’m guessing.”

Vince’s thumb paused on the car remote. “I thought you said there were no hotels in town.”

“Jill doesn’t run a hotel. She turned the Shady Oak from a kids’ camp into a fancy corporate retreat. Thought you’d know that, seeing as how you two are married.” Arnie’s gaze was speculative in the gloom.

What else didn’t Vince know about his wife? Maybe it was time to update her background check.

When Vince remained silent, Arnie cleared his throat. “You want me to tell you how to get to Shady Oak? That land we put into federal trust for the casino is in the valley below her place.”

Vince almost refused the offer of directions. And then he remembered that Railroad Stop didn’t register on his GPS.

“H
OW’S THIS
?”
Teddy asked, rocking back on his heels to survey his work, a paintbrush in each hand. He had an artistic bent and instead of choosing a plain color for the background of the signs Jill planned to post against the casino, her son had created psychedelic bursts with the purple and green paint left over from the last time they’d decorated his room.

“Brilliant,” Jill said. “Just a few more and we’ll call it a night.”

They worked on the uphill side of Shady Oak’s garage underneath a floodlight. Jill had been cutting plywood into two-foot-by-three-foot pieces with a cordless skill saw while Teddy worked his magic. The eye-catching swirls of color would contrast perfectly with the important message Jill planned to spray-paint with stenciled block letters in red—NO CASINO!

She returned her saw to its case and then propped up the last two boards against the garage wall, taking another look at Teddy’s artwork, while her mind wandered. She, the daughter of casino owners, was opposing a casino. Jill could picture the worried look in her mother’s eyes, her father’s disapproving frown, and Vince’s face…

For years she’d recalled Vince’s youthful features fondly, but those images had been shattered tonight by a strong jaw, a suit he hadn’t bought off the rack, and his corporate stance. Once she’d recovered from the shock of his arrival, it had been easy to see through his words, to see that he’d become one of
them
—someone like her parents and his grandfather. Vince planned to milk the heart out of Railroad Stop, turning it into a miniature Vegas.

When Jill left Las Vegas eleven years ago, she’d wanted to find a place where she could feel safe, where she could take people at their word. On a sweltering Saturday, less than a week later, she’d gotten a flat tire in Railroad Stop. Edda Mae had taken one look at Jill, wilting while she waited for her car, and herded her into Bernie’s Burger Joint. In no time the older woman had pried the pertinent facts out of Jill, told her a story about one of her Native American ancestors and convinced Jill that running away never solved anything. Jill had gone to work for Edda Mae at Shady Oak the next day.

Edda Mae was the mother figure Jill had always longed for, and for the most part, Railroad Stop embraced Jill. After Teddy was born she stayed on, unable to curb her overactive imagination when it came to Shady Oak. Jill was still her parents’ daughter and the hospitality industry was in her blood. Where others might have seen a hopeless money pit, Jill had envisioned charming success. When Edda Mae was ready to retire, Jill took out an exorbitantly scary loan cosigned by her parents and employee became employer.

“So.” Teddy crouched over one of the last two boards and began creating a curvy purple road. He was a gangly kid, all knobby elbows and knees, an aficionado of bad jokes, but he was her pride and joy. “Who is he?”

“Who?” Jill tried to play dumb.

“The man from the meeting. Is he your cousin?”

“No.”

“Your brother?”

“No.” Jill half carried, half dragged one of the old wooden sawhorses back into the storage shed.

Teddy was into the lime-green paint when she returned, tracing a curvy line with the color. “Why does he have our last name?”

“All right, all right. I’ll tell you.” Wiping her hands on the seat of her jeans, Jill drew a dramatic breath. “He’s Batman and he’s taken on an alias so that he can continue fighting injustice to protect the innocent.” Although Jill didn’t let Teddy watch much television, she’d broken down and joined a mail-order video-rental service a few weekends before, introducing Teddy to the crime fighter.

“Mo-om.” Teddy stopped painting. He had a way of looking at Jill that said,
Cut the BS.
“I’m ten, not two.”

“It’s complicated.” Jill poked the ground with one toe. They’d talked about Jill’s separate-but-married status, but lately Teddy had wanted to know more about his father, the man he assumed Jill had married. She didn’t want to tell Teddy he was a rape-conceived child—he was too young to carry that baggage—so she’d resorted to jokes and topic changes.

Something stirred delicately near a leaf by Jill’s foot—a spider. “Eeeeeiiii!!” She leaped a yard away, stumbling backward up the slope. Just the thought of eight spindly legs creeping across her skin gave her the willies.

Teddy dutifully came over with a rolled-up newspaper. “It’s just a baby.” He scooped it up and took it behind the shed.

“Baby?” It was the size of a fifty-cent piece. “I wish you’d kill it.”

“Spiders are good bugs, remember?” Teddy’s voice was muffled. He galloped back waving the newspaper. “All gone.”

Jill shivered. “He’ll be back.”

Edda Mae appeared at the corner of the garage. “I buzzed that casino man in the front gate.”

That was what Jill got for trying to cut costs. The main gate was a quarter mile down the hill. Its intercom rang to Edda Mae’s caretaker’s cottage. It had been significantly cheaper to wire the gate controls to the cottage since it was a hundred feet closer than the apartment above the dining hall/kitchen where Jill and Teddy lived.

“Need I remind you to watch your manners?” Edda Mae asked as she melted back into the shadows. Edda Mae probably expected Jill to race down the road into Vince’s arms.

“I wouldn’t have had to mind my manners if the gate stayed locked,” Jill muttered.

Gravel crunched beneath tires on the driveway and headlights swung around onto them and then away as Vince parked out of sight in front of the garage. A smooth engine roared once before settling into silence.

He’d want a divorce. Jill spun her wedding ring with her left thumb. It wasn’t as if she was going to ask for alimony or child support from Vince. A divorce shouldn’t be a big deal, although odd as it seemed, being married to Vince was part of who she was. But if she had to choose, preserving the small-town integrity of Railroad Stop was more important than a ring on her finger.

“Jill?” Vince’s voice was deep and familiar when so much about her husband was a mystery.

A breath of cool mountain air made Jill shiver. “Over here.”

They’d gone to private school together since kindergarten. In high school, Vince was the class loner, a situation he and his perpetual scowl seemed comfortable with, especially when it didn’t seem to deter a certain type of willing girl. Jill was the brainy girl who didn’t quite fit in. Although they’d been friends of sorts since they were five, the older they got, the less frequently their paths crossed.

Then Vince had asked Jill to come watch the sunset on his boat on Senior Ditch Day. But Craig had been coming over to her house that evening and Craig was so perfect—captain of every sports team, class president—no girl would be stupid enough to turn him down. Whereas Vince…Vince was the kind of boy her parents warned her about.

Jill struggled to fill her lungs with air. Turned out Craig wasn’t so perfect, after all, and Vince…

Teddy balanced his paintbrush on the edge of the can and leaned against Jill, bringing her back to the present. “Is it Batman?” he whispered.

They both giggled. Jill draped an arm over Teddy’s shoulders as Vince came around the corner in his custom-made suit and tie, looking every inch the heir to a grand casino in Las Vegas and draining the laughter from her throat. The rebellious boy who wore a leather jacket and pierced his ear was nowhere to be seen in this man. Jill, on the other hand, had gone from put-together, studious debutante to harried, working single mom. Her stomach flip-flopped.

“It’s good to see you, Jill. You look great.” As Vince approached, his gaze drifted over her, no doubt registering the extra pounds she’d put on over the years.

“You, too.” She didn’t have to tell Vince he looked better than great. He probably knew it. Jill could imagine the plastic babes roaming Vegas falling regularly at his feet. If only she could easily picture Vince turning them down. He must think she was a pathetic pushover for hanging on to him for so long.

Vince held Jill immobile with his dark gaze as he continued to narrow the gap between them. Hugging had become de rigueur in the business world in the past ten years. Surely he didn’t…

Part of her rejoiced. That unexpected emotion was immediately quelled by a stronger, more predictable desire for self-preservation that usually gave Jill the strength to move away, raise a hand and smoothly utter an excuse for a man to keep his distance.

Only, this time she faltered. She could barely remember her own name, much less his. She wanted to put up her guard, but couldn’t lift a finger. And her feet…her feet weren’t moving, either.

He wasn’t stopping. Jill’s heart thudded against her chest.

By sheer force of will she managed to take a jerky step back. Surely he’d see her discomfort. He’d always been good at picking up on her body language, but it had been so long he probably didn’t realize. Long arms reached for her. Large hands settled on her shoulders and drew her to him.

Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t…
“Don’t!” she cried, her feet suddenly obeying her mind. Her butt hit the remaining sawhorse and she would have flipped over it, but Vince held her tight.

“I’
M NOT GOING
to support your casino.” Wary-eyed, Jill wrenched herself free from his grip and edged around the sawhorse until it stood between them.

“Mom? Are you okay?”

“I’m…fine.” She gave her son a weak smile.

“Jill?” That unwanted protective male instinct, the one only Jill aroused, had reawakened. Vince wiped his palms, still warm from touching her, against his trousers and stepped away.

“I’m fine,” Jill repeated, hefting one end of the sawhorse and dragging it toward the open shed behind the garage. “I’m not supporting your casino.”

“I haven’t asked you to,” Vince snapped, taking the other end of the sawhorse and examining her face, hoping to find a reason for his old obsession.

Jill stumbled under his scrutiny, but kept walking backward.

On the first day of kindergarten Jill had stuck up for Vince in front of a teacher, and he’d contracted a bad case of puppy love that continued through childhood only to fizzle out less than a year after their wedding day. She was pretty enough, but no longer his type. He liked his women pouty and aggressive in bed, women who didn’t mind that he wore a wedding ring and wasn’t interested in anything long-term. Vince took note of how high up Jill had buttoned her flannel shirt.

Nope. He was definitely over her.

“Just so you know,” Jill said woodenly, “people come here to get away from it all. Having a casino at the turnoff to Shady Oak doesn’t exactly reinforce that feeling of peaceful solitude.”

Vince didn’t want to talk about the casino. “The two can coexist.”

“Not on my mountain.” Taking baby steps, Jill led him into the gloomy, crowded shed. Once the sawhorse was on the floor and the only barrier between Jill and the door was Vince, she froze, watching her husband from the shadows as if scared of him.

Of
him.
As if he’d been the one who attacked her. Could the day get any worse? Vince stubbornly refused to move, waiting for Jill to show some backbone. “I don’t think you own the entire mountain.”

“No.” She still didn’t move.

They stared at each other in silence for several seconds more.

With a sigh, Vince backed out of the shed and into the boy.

Craig’s son.

The vivid blue eyes and reddish-brown hair were Jill’s. Try as he might, Vince couldn’t see anything in this kid of the solidly built, blond mama’s boy who’d date-raped Jill.

“Who are you?” the kid asked.

“Vince Patrizio.” Vince offered his hand and took the opportunity to lead the boy back to the garage.

The smell of new wood permeated the crisp mountain air. From what he could see, Shady Oak was a replica of an old Western town. There were small bungalows with covered plank porches and wooden rocking chairs. The garage was painted to look like a red barn. A two-story 1800s-style building with a sign across large double doors proclaimed it to be Edda Mae’s Dining Emporium. The entire place would have looked like a kids’ movie set, except there was no landscaping, just dirt and pine trees.

“I’m Teddy Patrizio. We have the same last name.” Teddy cast a questioning sideways glance at Vince.

Vince was only half listening, still thinking about Jill’s Western corporate retreat, a concept very similar to the themed casinos in Vegas. “It’s a good last name. It’s Italian. I’m happy to share it.”

Jill hurried past, picking up a tool chest on her way to the front of the garage. Wearing boot-cut jeans, her legs looked long and Vince found it hard not to follow her every move with his eyes until he realized he had an audience.

Another sidelong stare from the boy. This one appraising. “I don’t look anything like you.”

“Teddy!” Jill turned at the corner of the building, her voice giving away her distress.

The kid leaned closer to Vince and whispered, “I know who you are.”

Premonition prickled the hair on the back of Vince’s neck and he found himself bending lower.

“Theodore Tatum Patrizio!” Jill’s gaze collided with Vince’s, a plea for help in her eyes, but Vince didn’t understand what she needed.

And it was suddenly important that Vince knew who her son thought he was.

“You’re Batman.” Teddy smirked at Vince, then winked at his mother. “Right, Mom?”

“Teddy.” Jill shook her head, looking incredibly relieved. “That wasn’t funny.”

“You’ve lost me,” Vince said.

“It was a joke.” All traces of humor gone, Teddy knelt and picked up a paintbrush as his mother disappeared into the garage. “You’re not my dad,” the boy said in a dejected voice after a few brush strokes.

Vince hadn’t expected such honesty from one so young. “No, I’m not.”

“But you’re related to me.”

Watching them, Jill hesitated at the corner of the garage.

“Well, I married—”

“Vince, no!”

“—your mother.”

“You
are
my dad. I knew it.” Teddy jumped up, tossed the paintbrush on a scrap of newspaper and flung his arms around Vince.