A Marriage Between Friends (8 page)

Before Jill registered what was happening, Vince had her backed against the rust-spotted truck bed, his face so close she could feel his hot breath on her cheek, could remember how hard it would be to breathe when he covered her mouth with his large hand and told her this was what she wanted.

Vince gritted his teeth and practically snarled at her. “Damn it. What’s wrong with you? Don’t
ever
let me hear you talk about yourself like that again. Don’t give him that power over you. Don’t give
anyone
that power over you.” Then Vince’s eyes seemed to grow distant, as if seeing something dark in his own past, and he drew back infinitesimally.

The combination of Vince’s protectiveness and that glimpse into his own torment gave Jill the strength to move, to realize that Vince wouldn’t hurt her. She’d superimposed memories of Craig onto Vince, and Vince wasn’t like that. He’d cared for her once. Jill patted Vince on the arm with a trembling hand and edged away.

Vince glanced down at where she’d touched him, still visibly shaken. “Is the only reason you don’t want a casino here because there’ll be too many strangers—too many men—around town?”

Exposed, Jill moved to the rear of the truck. “If your casino goes through, my guests will step out on my porch and see your generators, air-conditioning units and a parking garage. How could anyone retreat from the world with a view like that?” Jill was at a disadvantage. She didn’t know why he’d come here. “If you chose Railroad Stop because of me, because you thought I’d benefit, think again.”

“You had nothing to do with me coming here.” Vince set the muddy shovel in the truck, eyebrows furrowed.

Unexpected disappointment slipped past her defenses. Jill walked around to the driver’s side. “I can just as easily start somewhere else.” What a lie. Starting over would be torture, not to mention financially impossible.

“That didn’t come out right. I knew you were here and when Arnie’s inquiry reached me, it just clicked,” Vince explained, seeming to notice he’d upset her. He leaned his forearms on the truck bed and gave Jill a lopsided smile. “Before we go any further I need you to know why—”

“I don’t need to know anything.”

“Yes, you do. This project is important to me. And not because of the money,” Vince added quickly, then sighed. “I have been, and always will be, a screwup.”

“You’re wrong,” Jill blurted. Vince certainly had all the trappings of success. And he’d always seemed so confident.

Smiling sadly, Vince wiped his mud-streaked cheek a few times on his shoulder as if it itched. “After my grandmother’s accident, the police couldn’t find the driver who hit her. I became…obsessed with identifying who had left her in a coma.” He shrugged. “After a while I was convinced my grandfather had arranged the
accident.
”

“You know he didn’t.” She could tell by Vince’s expression. “He wouldn’t. He loves her too much.” Even Jill, who barely knew his grandparents, had seen Aldo Patrizio’s love for his wife in a touch, a smile, a glance.

“I know that now. My friend Sam told me repeatedly that I was wrong, but I couldn’t accept it. And my grandfather—jeez—he had no patience for me anymore, probably because he was so worried about my grandmother. After I did something particularly stupid, he offered to finance me in my own venture on the condition that I seal the deal within a year.” Vince stared at his dirty hands. “If I fail, he’s done with me. No job. No inheritance. Nothing. That was last October. And here I am in mid-September, empty-handed.”

Vince wasn’t empty-handed. He had Arnie in his pocket. Jill was fooling herself if she believed her signs could stop this. Just listening to Vince’s story almost made her want to pull for him. And his arguments for the projects made sense, just not for her.

“Railroad Stop is ideal. The atmosphere, the land available, the prep work that’s already been done. Everything is lining up on this one.” Vince laughed once, mirthlessly. “Almost everything.”

“So what? You can move on.” Easier than she could. “You can make this work and generate even more money in a bigger town.” Jill grimaced at her calculated response. She had never been able to shake her parents’ pragmatism.

“This isn’t about the money.”

“Really.” Having grown up in Vegas, Jill wasn’t buying it. “Your grandfather could have sent you on a scavenger hunt to prove yourself, but he didn’t. He sent you out to make a deal.”

“I know it’s a test. If our positions were reversed, I’d probably need some kind of proof, too.” Vince shifted his arms and stared at the shovel. “We’re alike in many ways, but not in one respect. Everything he touches turns to gold. Everything I try falls apart. I’m a failure.”

“You’re not a failure.” Jill pounded her fist on the truck bed when she would have liked to pound his head. “You graduated from high school. You graduated from college. You…served in the army. You must have done something right. You came home alive.” So many young men weren’t as fortunate. “You drive a new Porsche, for crying out loud.” The last new car Jill owned had been given to her by her parents. Every spare nickel had gone into her savings and now into Shady Oak.

Vince picked at a rusty flake of paint on the truck for what seemed like a long time before answering. “None of that matters now. If I don’t prove to my grandfather that I can make things happen on my own, he’ll push me away. And then he’ll be all alone in his penthouse with my grandmother.”

As much as this tugged at Jill’s heart, she had to protect herself and Teddy and stand firm against Vince’s project. “If you’re telling me you won’t back off from the casino, I can accept that, even respect you for it, given the pressure you’re under. But I’m still opposed to it.”

Wearing a wicked smile that promised too much, Vince shook his head. “You can’t be that heartless. I’m going to lose everything.”

Jill gasped. “Like I won’t? You are such a jerk. Did you really think that story would make me support your casino?”

“It’s not a story.” But Vince was still smiling as he shrugged. “Hey, you can’t fault a guy for trying.”

A truck crested the hill down the road.

Looking at his clothes, Vince said, “I need to clean up. Let’s head back.”

“Not yet. I’ve got to put this last sign up in town.” She’d like to put it somewhere else.

“No.” Vince’s voice was firm. “No. I’m not going into town like this.”

“You can sit in the truck and wait.” Jill hauled open the driver’s door, convinced this was just more of his failure malarkey.

With a sigh, Vince climbed into the truck, his shoes hitting the floorboards with a noticeable
squish,
mud clumps falling from both sides of his feet. “When did you become so evil?”

Even though Jill knew Vince was joking, it hurt.

You wanted it just as bad as I did. Admit it. You couldn’t have kissed me like that and not known what we were going to do.

Craig was right. She’d sent out the wrong message. Maybe deep down Jill had wanted to be something more than the boring debutante with good grades. “How do you know I haven’t always been evil?”

“Hey. It was a joke.” Vince touched her shoulder. When Jill didn’t speak, he added, “People say things they don’t mean all the time. You’ve got to be one of the kindest, least evil people I know…your present manipulation of me regarding
those
signs excepted.”

“If I’m such a good person, why did such a terrible thing happen to me?” Jill immediately wanted to snatch back the words that had haunted her for so long. She’d never said as much to Edda Mae. Why was she whining to Vince? Especially when he’d just tried to hoodwink her?

“Pull over.”

Biting, Jill kept driving.

“Pull over. Now.” The menace in Vince’s tone left no room for argument.

Jill did as he asked, then sat gripping the wheel, staring ahead and gluing her lips together.

“Are you going to explain that last comment to me or make me tickle it out of you?” Vince made a halfhearted attempt to poke her in the ribs.

Jill shook her head, swatting away his hand. “Don’t joke about it.”

“Whatever Craig said to you to make you feel so small is all bullshit,” Vince said quietly. “Even my dad, who was a crappy father on the best of days, told me more than once that when a woman says no, it means stop. If you’ve been thinking all this time that what happened was your fault, you’re crazy.”

“But I kissed him. I let him…” This was mortifying.
“I let him touch me.”

“That doesn’t matter.” Vince pried Jill’s fingers from the steering wheel. He held onto her hand as if it was the most fragile thing he’d ever touched. “He was wrong. No means no means no. Making love is a one hundred percent agreement. Going all the way means the woman wants to go all the way, up to and including the last part of the way.”

His words drained her. Jill risked what little pride she had left and glanced at him. Vince looked as if he’d been run over by a truck with his dirt-smudged face, mussed hair and far-too-serious expression. She tried to lighten the moment with a wobbly smile. “I know we’re married and all, but that was too heavy, especially when you just tried to play me.”

Vince didn’t smile back. “Shh. Give it a while. Crap takes a long time to get over.”

Jill nodded, touched that Vince knew exactly what she needed to hear, yet still embarrassed beyond belief.

And then Vince tucked a strand of hair behind Jill’s ear, leaving a distracting trail of heat.

Jill wanted to kiss him. Or was it her fantasy Vince? The lines between them were blurring. “I can’t even kiss anyone. My head just goes back to that night and I know it could happen again. It’s better if I don’t lead anyone on. Ever.”

Vince sat up straight. “Wait a minute. You blame yourself for me kissing you?”

“Yes, I—”

“I practically chased you into the woods,” Vince pointed out.

Jill frowned. But she hadn’t run away.

“I chased you,” he said again. “And the way you were kissing me had me wanting to back you against a tree.” Vince took her chin in his hand and forced her to face him, to stare into his deep, serious eyes. “But you said no.”

“I said no to Craig, too.”

“When a guy really cares about you, he’ll wait, years if he has to.”

Jill made a disparaging noise. As if Vince had waited for her all this time. “You came here to punish me, didn’t you?” As if what she’d been through wasn’t punishment enough. “I may have accepted the longest pity date on the planet from you, but you don’t have to string me along and pretend to like me.”

When he offered no defense, Jill pulled out onto the road, gunning the truck over a rise past the rickety gas station on the edge of town and down Railroad Stop’s Main Street. She drove past the smattering of faded, older-model trucks and sedans facing outside the porch-lined storefronts. It was like traveling through a time warp. Her clients loved visiting the quaint little shops along Main Street. Jill could appreciate its charm, but that didn’t erase the facts—she wasn’t really married, Vince didn’t love her. All she could do was stop, stand up for what she believed in and hope she could keep Vince from changing this place.

“Should you be parking here?” Vince asked as Jill waited for a lone car to pass before she turned into her spot. “The sign says that’s the mayor’s parking space.”

“It is.” Jill hopped out the door, letting a rare glimpse of pride show on her face. “I’m the mayor.”

W
HY THE HELL
hadn’t Arnie come right out and told Vince his wife was the mayor?

And why the hell hadn’t Jill told Vince she was the mayor?

Dragging inches of soggy trouser, Vince stomped after Jill as she crossed the raised wooden sidewalk lugging her last purple, green and red sign. With wet, muddy leather on his feet and muck-sodden wool up to his knees, Vince clenched his jaw to keep from shouting at Jill as she unlocked the glass door with
Mayor
stenciled in gold letters.

As Jill swung the door open, a bell tinkled loudly enough to be heard three stores down, announcing the arrival of a fool.

“You must think I’m an idiot,” he said. Contrary to their roadside conversation, Jill wasn’t a helpless woman in need of rescuing. Nobody elected that kind of person into office. Vince kept thinking he understood his wife when it was becoming clearer that he knew nothing about her or how to talk her around to the casino.

“You’re the mayor.” Vince jabbed his finger at Jill. He disregarded the vibration at his hip, announcing his BlackBerry had finally received a strong-enough signal to download his messages.

“Yes.” Ignoring him, Jill yanked on the cord to raise the dusty aluminum blinds on the front window.

Vince stabbed his finger in her direction again. “You don’t want the casino.”

Jill gave him a crooked smile that showed not an ounce of remorse, making him want to kiss that smug look right off her face. “That’s correct.” Then Jill propped the NO CASINO sign on the window ledge and lowered the blinds behind it.

Vince sank into an old, wood-and-red leather captain’s chair. She
was
evil.

Sure, Jill was only trying to defend her turf. That didn’t keep Vince from coming to a slow boil as he remembered painting the signs with her last night and recalled the look on Jill’s face just now when she told him she was the mayor. She was sending out signals only the class idiot wouldn’t pick up on—that the priorities in her life were herself and Teddy. No one else mattered.

“You betrayed me,” Vince whispered, rubbing his chest absently.

And still Vince was aware of his need to bury his face in her silky hair, wanted to taste her lips again. He’d been working too hard, had neglected his personal life too long. His gaze drifted to the window. There had to be other attractive women in Railroad Stop. Except the entire town knew he was married to Jill.

“Can you say you haven’t betrayed me in some way, too?” Jill couldn’t seem to look at him when she asked the question.

At once Vince knew Jill wasn’t talking about the casino. She was referring to their wedding vows. Vince had never offered his heart to another, but that didn’t mean he lived like a monk. Lots of women visiting Vegas were looking for a man like Vince, a man who enjoyed a bit of fun but wasn’t interested in anything more than a night or two of meaningless sex. But Jill had honored their vows even though she’d left him. If this was a real marriage, Vince would be on his knees, groveling for her forgiveness.

“I’m sorry,” Vince mumbled, surprising himself. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t been with a woman in over a year. The hurt in Jill’s eyes was humbling.

The phone rang. It was an antique, cream-colored, with a circular dial and an authentic ring. In fact, the entire office was out of
Mayberry R.F.D.
—old, warped aerial photographs of the valley hung on one wall, while pictures of past mayors lined the wall behind a dented metal desk that sat on scuffed black-and-white-checked linoleum. Only the computer looked as if it came from this century.

“Hello, Arnie,” Jill answered, avoiding Vince’s eyes. “Yes, he’s here with me. I showed him the property under consideration. He got out and got his feet wet.” Jill gave Vince’s wrecked shoes a significant glance, her mouth curling up on one side. “Will do.”

She hung up. “Arnie saw us drive by. He wants to see you.”

Vince gazed down at his clothes, struck by a memory of his father tossing him against the wall when he’d been unable to knot his tie properly. He must have been six or seven, his mother too drunk on the couch to protest. His father took any sign of imperfection as an excuse to punish Vince.

It was important to coddle Arnie, Vince’s biggest supporter, but also to present himself as a dignified, capable leader. It would take twenty minutes to drive to Jill’s, ten minutes or so to clean up and change and another twenty to get back.

“Arnie can wait.”

“Arnie’s not used to waiting,” Jill said, forehead wrinkling as if she, too, knew he should be sucking up to the tribal leader.

“I can’t go anywhere like this,” he said, hating that he sounded like a pouting prima donna.

She laughed, giving him the once-over. “Appearances don’t mean—”

“Appearances are everything and you know it, but obviously you’ve forgotten.” Annoyance drove Vince to his feet. If he showed up looking like this, Arnie would realize Vince couldn’t handle his business. Arnie would be backpedaling instantly.

Mechanically, Vince opened the door, barely hearing the jangle of the bell above him. From his search to find the meeting yesterday, he had a basic understanding of the layout of Main Street and knew where Arnie’s business was. He should just go and let things fall apart naturally. It would be one more checkmark on his long list of failures.

Vince opened his mouth to command Jill to come along, but then he saw his reflection in the glass.

S
O MUCH FOR
V
INCE
promising to include Jill in all his meetings.

Thirty-five minutes after Vince left, Jill had dusted the place, created some flyers informing residents of the importance of the issues being discussed at the city council meeting the following week, stuck them on windshields up and down Main Street, and finished reading an e-mail sent by a neighboring town’s mayor expressing his support for a casino in Railroad Stop.

Sure. As long as it isn’t in his backyard.

Vince and Arnie were probably finalizing the deal while she posted a date and time for the next meeting in the office window. Any moment she expected a phone call from Arnie announcing the need for a special town vote.

Maybe Jill should have told Vince that she was the mayor, but during most of their arguments she’d been too flustered by his presence and his effect on her to work it into the conversation. Besides, being mayor of Railroad Stop was more of a figurehead position than a legislative one. Her most important job was coordinating elections and special voting events, like the bond measure they’d need to pass to build the roads, sewers and electrical systems needed for the new housing development.

The tinkle of the antique bell over the mayor’s door announced a visitor. Jill glanced up, ready to flash a smile of welcome, and then froze.

“Let’s go.” Vince wore crisp new jeans, boots and a white, long-sleeved Western shirt with a blue-checked yoke and pearly buttons. He looked like any other able-bodied male from the California foothills ready to pick a fight or break a heart after a long workweek. He dropped a bulky plastic bag by the door.

“Did Arnie give you clean clothes?”

Vince scowled. “I haven’t been to Arnie’s yet. I went to the feed store for these. Come on.”

“Arnie didn’t invite me.” People in Railroad Stop didn’t leave Arnie cooling his jets or show up when he didn’t want them. Jill tried to hang on to a smile. Arnie had wanted to buy Shady Oak. When he learned that Edda Mae had sold it to Jill, Arnie had suddenly found Jill interesting. It was almost as if he didn’t believe she had a husband. What a surprise for him.

“I don’t care.” Vince swung the door open. “Move your butt.”

“I…uh…” She’d admit it to herself. Arnie intimidated her. Add Vince to the equation and this wasn’t going to be pleasant for Jill.

“You’re the mayor, right?” There was an edge to Vince’s tone that Jill didn’t understand.

“Ye-es.”

“You need to keep your eye on the opposition, right?” Vince tapped his chest.

“Yes.” Jill drew the word out suspiciously.

“Then show some backbone.” Vince held the door open wider.

“It’s not a lack of backbone.” Jill grabbed her keys. “It’s more like United Nations peacekeeping guidelines. Arnie plays in his sandbox and I play in mine. But if you want me to go with you, I will.”

After Jill locked up they walked toward Arnie’s place, booted feet echoing on the wood sidewalk and announcing their approach. In Railroad Stop that meant everyone would come running to check who was passing by and see the mayor with her devastatingly handsome husband.

“The buildings on both sides of this block were built over one hundred years ago,” Jill said. “It’s the heart of the original town.”

Vince paused to poke a toe at a rotted board next to a large wine-barrel planter filled with pink blossoms. “Is it the original wood, too?”

“No, but regardless of which plan goes through, we will be giving downtown a serious makeover.”

Joe Mattwell, the town’s burly baker, appeared at the doorway of his store wearing a full-length stained apron. “Hey, Jill. Is this the man behind the casino?”

Despite a strong compulsion to yank Vince away so that he wouldn’t swing Joe to his cause, Jill introduced the two men and then listened impatiently as they talked.

“I’d love to hear what you have to say when you have more time,” Joe said before disappearing back into the bakery.

“He seems to want the deal to go through,” Vince noted.

“Just because he wants to hear you speak doesn’t mean he’s interested in a casino. He was just being polite. Everyone’s curious about you and willing to do anything for a tidbit of gossip. People up here think I’m married.”

“You
are
married,” he reminded her darkly. “To me.”

For how much longer? Jill spun her wedding ring with one thumb as they passed several empty storefronts. She knew she couldn’t have it both ways, but she liked her life as it was.

Bang-bang! Thunk.

Jill was slammed against the wall with a large back in front of her face. “Ow.” She’d hit her head against the wall and it hurt. “Vince, move.” She could barely breathe, and when she did the smell of new clothing filled her nostrils. “Vince!” She shoved him away.

He turned around and looked at her dazedly, then scanned the area. He’d said he’d served in the war and there had certainly been enough news coverage on post-traumatic stress.

“Vince.” Jill tugged him around to look at her. “A car backfired.”

“A car?” Vince was recovering quickly. He blinked and seemed his normal self once more.

Mark Oberle, the local grocer, walked to the edge of the sidewalk across the street and waved. “Jill! Wait a minute.” He crossed the road for an introduction.

Biting her lip, Jill was able to hang on to her composure while the two men talked about the business opportunities a casino would bring. What she would have liked to have done was grill Vince on his reaction to the car. He’d had a similar episode when Edda Mae dropped the frying pan this morning. Did he have any other problems? Was he expected to get over them on his own?

“I haven’t made up my mind yet. This town is ready to grow,” Mark was saying with a bright smile at Jill, as if they were all on the same page.

“More homes mean more groceries, Mark,” Jill grumbled under her breath as she stomped on toward Arnie’s.

“You’re right. They’re only interested in meeting me because I’m your husband.” Vince’s words dripped with sarcasm.

“Shut up.” Great. Now he’d gotten her to resort to school-yard retorts. “What happened back there when the car backfired?”

“It just took me out of my game, is all,” Vince said smoothly. “When’s the last time someone in this town got a new car—1975?”

“Contrary to what you think,” she said, “cars are not fashion accessories.”

“I’ve never seen such a collection of clunkers.”

Jill waved off his insinuation. “I know it’s hard for you to understand the concept of being thrifty. People get new cars when they need them.” But it
was
odd that she hadn’t seen anyone with an up-to-date vehicle in a long, long time.

“Jill, the average income in Railroad Stop is below the poverty line. As mayor, aren’t you supposed to be improving the standard of living?”

“I am, remember? Vacation homes? Golf course?” Jill walked faster. “But I’m also about integrity and preserving the heart of the town.” Jill wasn’t interested in what other people thought they needed. If they wanted a different life, there were plenty of cookie-cutter towns in the California foothills. Railroad Stop was special.

“It’s amazing you won the election.” Vince watched a car pull onto Main Street.

Jill bared her teeth as she tried to smile.

“J
ILL, WHAT A SURPRISE
.” Arnie held open the door to the Railroad Stop Museum and Pizzeria. His smile for Jill was smooth as glass, more than friendly, and it set Vince’s teeth on edge.

With a wary nod, Jill gave Arnie a wide berth and headed quickly past him toward the back of the foyer, her ponytail barely swaying. Arnie watched her every step of the way, sending Vince’s proprietary gene into overdrive. It could have been a power play, designed to get under Vince’s skin.

Vince flexed his fingers. Recognizing the ploy didn’t make it any easier to take. Maybe there was more to being married than Vince was ready to admit. Or perhaps he was just sensitive to attack, given his grandfather’s terse e-mail demanding an update on the project.

“Mr. Patrizio.” Arnie looked less like a local and more like a Silicon Valley millionaire in his dress slacks and button-down shirt. He gave Vince’s Podunky clothing a surprised once-over, but didn’t immediately run screaming from the room.

Vince tugged at the long sleeves of the shirt. Needing a moment to compose himself, he took his time shaking Arnie’s hand and looking around the old house that served as Railroad Stop’s repository of history. There were hardwood floors, faded oriental carpets, high windows with heavy draperies and small tufted chairs that looked as if they’d break under Vince’s weight. A display case with an Indian headdress, a few arrowheads and woven baskets flanked the staircase. Black-and-white photos of early settlers hung on the wall—scruffy miners, women in long skirts and aprons, Native Americans of every age and gender.