Love Is the Drug (5 page)

Jason nodded, his brows lifting. “Hmm.” But then those same brows furrowed and he looked over at her. “How’d you manage to go to school, living under a bridge and all?”

Julie shifted in her seat, straightening and pulling on the skirt of her mother’s dress. She’d worn it for luck—and as a little bit of added comfort—the jury was still out on whether it had worked or not. “I…didn’t. I was—what’s the word?—
truant
from school until Connie got her big break.”

She glanced over at him to gauge his reaction. His brows weren’t quite as furrowed as they had been, but he had an intent look on his face, so no telling what thoughts were spinning through his mind. “But as soon as Connie thought it was safe, thought we’d not be forced to separate, she let me enroll in school.”

His lips thinned then. “
Let
you?”

“You misunderstand—she wanted to get me a tutor,”—not
strictly
the truth, but why give Jason more to hate Connie for?—“but I wanted to take the exams necessary to place me in my appropriate grade and go to a real high school.” She looked to her right and focused on the passing wooded countryside a moment and then swiveled around to face him fully, bending her knee and bringing her left leg up onto the white bucket seat as she wrapped her arm around the back of the headrest. “I just wanted to be normal again. Or, as normal as I could be, after losing both my parents. Connie made that happen for me.”

“Well. I’m glad you at least got to go to school.” For about a minute or two, they continued on in companionable silence, but then Jason looked over at her again and said, “Hey, how did you and Connie lose the property in the first place—I mean, you were the natural heirs.”

“We were runaways, remember?”

“Yeah, but it was still yours.”

Julie swung back around and faced forward, tugging at the skirt of her dress when it remained hiked up on one side, then looked over at the scrub brush on her right which continued to whiz past her vision, before settling her gaze on the dashboard in front of her. “My parents—my dad—had recently put a second lien on the property to pay for a planned expansion. He’d used a good portion of it to have plans drawn up. And then, of course, the primary mortgage—it eventually went back to the bank.”

“No life insurance?”

“No.” She dashed a glance in Jason’s direction. He just nodded.

No judgment there. Good.

“And so it was sold to pay off the liens,” he said.

“Yes.”

“Hmm.”

Thankfully, he didn’t say anything further after that and soon the gravel road leading up to the property came into view. He slowed the car, giving her a quick glance as he turned onto the road. “Where are you staying?”

She grinned, lifting her brows briefly as she looked over at him. “Here, of course.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! I’ve got my backpack with the essentials on the floorboard of the truck. My other stuff is being shipped.” She tipped her head to the side. “Hey, where are you staying?”

“I rented a bungalow a couple of weeks ago over on Mesquite Trail.”

She nodded. “Oh.”

He pulled the car in next to her truck and cut off the engine. “Do you need me to help you get situated? You want me to check the breaker box or plumbing? You know, just to make sure everything’s okay for the night?”

“Naa. It’s fine, I’m sure. The agent told me they’d kept everything on after the previous owner passed away a few months ago, so they could run the air conditioner and keep the house furnishings from moldering in the heat.” She swung the door open and got out. After slamming it shut, she leaned against it with her hands curled around the top edge. “So…I guess I’ll see you tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah. I’ll be over about 9 a.m. Alright?”

“Sounds good.” She fluttered a wave at him and walked to the driver’s side of her truck. As she reached over and grabbed her backpack, she heard the engine fire up and the crunch and crumble of the gravel as his blue sports car pulled out of its space, then the engine revved as he accelerated and drove down to the main road into town. By the time she slammed the truck’s door, all that remained of his presence was the floating dust left by his mag wheels.

* * *

Slinging one strap of the bag over her right shoulder, Julie turned toward her childhood home. A strange amalgam of joy and trepidation filled her breast as she came, with each new step, ever closer to once again crossing the threshold of this place that represented nearly everything she wanted, and certainly everything she’d been striving to regain, since her world went off kilter nearly eleven years ago.

And once she was settled in for the night, she’d take out that 2000
Cheval Blanc
bottle of wine she’d been saving—a birthday present from her sister last April—and finally, finally, FINALLY, allow herself the luxury of breaking down and mourning her sister’s death. She intended to deal with the anger she felt as well. The betrayal of trust. Her sister had left her—on purpose. A thing they’d both sworn to each other they would
never
do.

She took the six steps up to the porch, walked the distance toward the front door, and slid the key into the lock. This was it. She turned the key and then the knob and swung the door wide. She looked around. Someone had opened the blinds, so the natural light afforded her a good view. The furnishings were all wrong, but the smell was just the same: a mix of wood polish and home-cooked meals.

“Hi, Dad. Hi, Mom. I’m home,” she murmured.

* * *

Jason pulled into the driveway of the little white bungalow and killed the engine. His mind was still swirling with all the things Julie had left out in her quickie little recap of her life over the past decade. He totally got why she didn’t want to talk in detail about it—wasn’t he doing the same thing with all he’d been through?—but he had to admire the kid. She seemed to have a good head on her shoulders—especially after the wild, strange, circus-ride life she’d been forced to lead—even if she did have no business, her having no real experience, trying to open a restaurant on her own.

As he got out of the car, an all-too-familiar black Mercedes coup pulled in behind him.
Ssshhit!
The husband hunting divorcée.

“Hi ya, Sugar,” Nora Lee said, slamming her door and shimmying toward him.

“Hi.” Even he heard the irritated tone in his voice, but she just kept on coming. That wide, Pepsodent smile glittering like the rhinestones on an Elvis impersonator’s white leather suit. He instantly noticed that she’d changed clothes from this morning. Now she was wearing a dark aqua blue dress, it’s low-cut top connecting somehow behind her neck, leaving her shoulders—and he was sure—the majority of her back, exposed. The ultra-spikes on her matching heels clicked on the pavement as she moved and his eyes couldn’t decide which bouncing balls to focus on: her tits or her swinging hips. It surprised him when a flash-memory of Julie, standing there in that old-fashioned pink dress, with the same color sash as Nora Lee’s dress, juxtaposed itself with the reality of the female barracuda-flesh flouncing before him.

“I sure could use a glass of iced tea. You got any made?” Nora Lee asked, curling her arm around his and turning them both toward the door.

He refused to budge though. He had way too much business to conduct—and the call to his dad really couldn’t wait much longer. “I’m afraid I’m all out.” She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. “Look. I’ve got a lot going on right now. I’ve got important phone calls to make and a new partnership I need my attorney to draft a contract up on.”

He took hold of the arm she was clinging to him with and forced it back down to her side. He could tell he was pissing her off, but it couldn’t be helped.

And maybe pissing her off was the best way to get her out of his hair, anyway. Maybe being real blunt would do the trick. “I’m not in the market for a wife. Hell, I’m not even in the market for a steady partner, if you know what I mean. So, really, Nora Lee, you’re barking up the wrong tree.”

Her answering smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Oh, Sugar, don’t you worry your head about me. I’m just bein’ a good neighbor, is all.”

“Good. Because that’s about all I can handle right now.” He took hold of her upper arm and started leading her back toward her Merc. “Like I said, I’ve got a lot of phone calls and business to conduct. Maybe I’ll see you around. At Jimmy’s or something, sometime.”

He opened the car door and all but hauled her into her seat before slamming the door closed. “Goodbye, Nora Lee.”

He could have sworn she nearly stuck her tongue out at him before she said, “’Bye Sugar,” and then turned the ignition key, revved the motor, swung her upper torso around to look out the back windshield and gunned the gas pedal. Jason leapt back. He was not surprised when he heard the tires squeal.

* * *

Jason’s dad answered on the third ring. “Hey, hey, hey! Didya get it then?”

Jason grinned. It had been a long time since he’d heard that much enthusiasm in his dad’s voice. He slid forward on the mauve and green floral print sofa and leaned back, dropping his head to rest on the overstuffed cushion. “Yeah,” he said, resettling the cell phone’s receiver closer to his mouth.

“So…didya meet Julie?”

Jason shot forward as if the lid to a jack-in-the-box had been raised—and he was Jack.
“Excuse me?”

“Julie Del Mar. Was she there?”

“Yeah—what the hell—”

“
Now, we can’t really take that property from her. It was her parent’s, after all. Hell, it’s her legacy. No, can’t do it. How much d’ya pay for it anyway?”

“Dad.”
Jason’s throat ached with the strain of not shouting the word.
“
What the hell is going on? Was this some kind of a set-up?”

“No. Well…maybe, just a little bit.”

Jason’s eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened. “So, you didn’t really want this property for our fishing resort project.”

“Hell yes I wanted it—want it! In fact, that’s how I found out whose property it originally was.”

“And you knew Julie would be bidding on it?”

“Not exactly. I just…speculated…that she might want it back. Especially after losing her sister.”

“Why didn’t you tell me she might be there?”

“Because. I knew you wouldn’t go then. And…well, I wanted the property for us. Absolutely. Especially if Julie didn’t show. But I also wanted you and her to meet. I just can’t stop thinking about that sweet little thing and how she’s got nobody now. I just want to make sure she’s okay. And I knew once you met her you’d like her—I was right. Right?”

Jason collapsed back and dropped his head to rest on the cushion again. He shook his head. “I cannot believe you set me up.”

“Hey! You know it wasn’t for any malignant purposes.”

Jason heaved a deep sigh. “Yeah. I guess.”

“Now, she’s the kind of gal I’d like to see you settle down with.”

“No way. But, yeah, it figures. The boring housewife type.”

“I got news for you, buddy. It’s the housewives that keep the ol’ furnace lit—know what I mean?”

“Well, staying home and mowing the grass is
not
my idea of fun. Sorry.”

“Yeah, your idea of fun is all flash, no substance. Like that
”—
Jason could just see his dad snapping his fingers—“that—what was her name? That last one you brought home for me to meet.”

Jason swallowed a grumble and gritted his teeth. “Jessica, Dad. Her name was Jessica. And she was a tax attorney. I thought you’d approve of someone with those credentials.”

“Well, she looked like a two-bit bleached-blond stripper.”

“She was way more than two-bit. She got through law school on the tips she made at the premier men’s club. Hardly two-bit, I’d say.”

“Yeah, but who’d hire her as their attorney—oh, wait, don’t tell me: Strip clubs.”

“Yeah, well…” Okay, so maybe she should have toned down the 38 Triple-D’s, the porno nails and makeup, and the leather, once she graduated and quit the club. But Jason sure as hell wasn’t going to be the one to nix that bit of eye candy.

And why should he? He
liked
leather. And as far as the other—hell, what red-blooded American male
didn’t
like that kind of rack?

Seriously.

“She’d only been out of school for six months when you met her. And I’m still kinda pissed at you for being so rude to her. You could have cut her a lot more slack.”

His dad snorted.

“Dad.”

“Oh, all right. I’m sorry for not welcoming your hooker chick with open arms.”

“She was not a hooker.
Christ!
” Jason took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Look. I’m trying, okay? You’ve seen it: There’ve been four women now that you’ve met—and not liked.”

His dad snorted again, but didn’t comment.

Jason pressed the base of his palm against his twitching right eyelid. “I’m not saying I’m ready to get married—not by a long shot—but I’m thirty now. It’s time for me to try to date someone longer than a few weeks. I get it. Okay?”

His dad must of realized he’d pushed Jason as far as he could because the next thing he said was, “So—how’s Julie doing? How’d she look?”