Manhunting (17 page)

He reached his hand down to her, and when she grasped it, he pulled her to her feet. “Is he still alive?”

“Yes.”

“How bad?”

“Sprained ankle and poison ivy.”

Jake shook his head and let go of her hand. “I’ll go get the car.”

They picked up Rick, Jake helping him carefully into the front seat, and drove him to the hotel.

“You’re showing remarkable restraint,” Kate said to Jake from the back seat as he drove. “Wouldn’t you like to make a comment here?”

“I’m speechless. Maybe this is God’s way of telling you not to date.”

Kate sighed. “I’ve come to that conclusion, too. I didn’t push him or anything, you know.”

Rick turned to look at her over the seat. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m mad, bad, and dangerous to know,” Kate said. “Me and Lord Byron.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Rick said. “Let’s have dinner tonight.”

“Your insurance premiums will double,” Jake said. “Kate’s on the same list with asbestos and toxic waste.”

“I insist,” Rick said.

“Thank you.” Kate smiled wanly at him. “But I have to work. I appreciate the offer, though.” Besides, Rick was going to be hip-deep in calamine by dinner. She felt terrible. Just terrible.

Jake helped Rick up to his room, saw that his ankle was packed in ice, and then went back down to the lobby to collect Kate.

“Is he all right?” Kate asked. “I feel awful about this.”

“About time you developed some guilt,” Jake said, and then when he saw she was really upset, he said, “He’s fine. Come on out on the lake and cheer up. I’ll even let you have a beer. One. Don’t guzzle it.”

Even out on the lake, Kate couldn’t shake her depression. It was time to quit. Have a good time with Nancy and Penny and Jake and then go home. Marriage wasn’t everything.

“What’s wrong with you?” Jake asked.

“I’ve decided to give up dating. It’s too depressing.”

“So the plan’s off, huh?”

“Yes,” Kate said, gloomily. “I’ll probably never get married.”

“I don’t see why you wanted to get married anyway,” Jake said. “You’ve got a career and friends and—”

“Oh, please,” Kate said. “I don’t need this. I get this from Jessie.”

“Well, she sounds sensible. Listen to her.”

“I don’t understand why she doesn’t understand,” Kate said. “I know why you don’t understand. You never get lonely and you don’t need anybody else—”

“Hey...” Jake said.

“But I am lonely. That’s why I kept saying yes to Derek and Paul and...and...”

“Terence,” Jake supplied.

“I know he was Terence,” Kate snapped. “I just wanted to make a life with someone. A life that wouldn’t start at eight at night. I wanted to wake up with someone who had the same goals I did, and work with him all day, and then come home at night and be...”

Jake waited while she searched for the words.

“Be comfortable together, I guess.” Kate let her head flop back on the cushion. “I’ve watched my father get married five times. I’ve watched his marriages end five times, including the time my mother walked out, and every time it was because he never saw any of them as partners. They were all something he’d acquired along the way, like the BMW and the condo. I didn’t want that. I wanted to be a partner.” She rolled her head sideways so she could see Jake. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to bore you.”

“That’s okay,” Jake said, cracking a beer and holding it out to her. “Drink this. You’ll feel better.”

“You drink it,” Kate said. “I’m not thirsty.”

“I don’t care if you’re thirsty or not,” Jake said. “I’m trying to sedate you. Drink it.”

Kate took the can. “Don’t you ever think about get married?” she asked. “Don’t you miss having someone around?”

“Married? No,” Jake said. “Someone around? Maybe. Maybe somebody who’s about eighteen, five foot two, and who thinks I’m God.”

“The brunette at the hotel,” Kate said gloomily.

Jake stopped with his beer halfway to his mouth. “What?”

“That little brunette,” Kate said. “The one who’s always hanging around you.”

Jake looked puzzled.

“She was talking to you at the pool table the other night,” Kate said patiently.

“Barbara Ann?” Jake looked confused. “She’s just a kid.”

“She’s probably twenty, Grandpa,” Kate said. “And you just said you wanted them short, young, and dumb.”

“I didn’t say dumb,” Jake said.

“You implied it,” Kate said. “I can’t believe that’s really the woman you want. You’re just being obnoxious. What do you really want?”

“Well, I know better what I don’t want. I don’t want somebody who’s always nagging me to be something I’m not. And I don’t want somebody who thinks she knows what’s best for me and who maneuvers around trying to get me to do things her way.”

Kate frowned. “Nobody wants anyone like that. It’s like saying, ‘I don’t want someone who’ll poke me in the eye with a sharp stick.’ Forget what you don’t want. What
do
you want?”

“I don’t know,” Jake said. “Somebody fun. Comfortable. Somebody who does her own thing and leaves me alone.” He looked over at Kate. “Pretty much the opposite of what you want, I guess. I don’t want to build an empire with anybody. I just want to have a good time and come home to somebody warm at night.”

“Jake, that should be easy,” Kate said. “Any woman would do that for you. You can’t have been looking too hard.”

“I haven’t been looking at all,” Jake said, glaring at her. “I never even thought about it until you brought it up, thank you very much. Can we talk about something else?”

“Sure,” Kate said and stared sadly up through the willow leaves.

“You tending bar at Nancy’s tonight?” Jake asked, clearly desperate for a subject.

“Yes,” Kate said. “Sally’s not coming back for a week.”

“You’re doing a great job,” Jake said. “A couple of people mentioned it last night.”

“Thank you,” Kate said.

“I’ll beat you at pool again tonight.”

“No, thanks,” Kate said. “I’m going over the books with Nancy.”

“Oh, right.” Jake drank some of his beer. “So you’ve found a way to save the bar from the Yankees.”

“Nancy’s not worried about the Yankees,” Kate said. “She’d just like to make a little more money, and I can show her some ways to make the bar pay better.”

“You and Valerie,” Jake said, and then spilled his beer when Kate surged up from her seat.

“I am
not
Valerie,” she said through her teeth.

“Damn it, Kate! That was good beer,” Jake said, sitting up and trying to blot the beer up with his shirt. “Of course you’re not Valerie. Will you please snap out of it? So you’re not getting married this week. You’ll find some sucker in the city and be married before the year’s over.”

“I don’t want to marry some sucker,” Kate said. “Stop trying to get rid of me.”

“I’m not trying to get rid of you. Hell, I gave you beer.” He glared at her again. “Why are we fighting?”

“I don’t know.” Kate sank back down into her cushions. “Maybe Penny had the right idea.”

“What right idea would that be?” Jake asked, opening another beer.

“She’s getting married and having twelve children and not working.”

“So she’s up here looking, too? Maybe I should mention this to Will. Could be a whole new slant to our advertising.”

“No, she’s already engaged,” Kate said. “He agrees absolutely that she shouldn’t work. I can find men like that. Maybe I’m just asking too much.”

“I thought Penny was the little blonde who was dating everybody in the hotel,” Jake said, confused.

“She is.”

“And she’s engaged?”

“It’s all right. She’s just dating, and he knows about it.”

Jake frowned. “And I thought only you got engaged to weirdos.”

“They weren’t that bad,” Kate said, staring up at the sky. “I left Terence because he didn’t want me to work.”

“What a fool he must have been,” Jake said. “You won’t catch me stopping a woman from supporting me.”

“I can’t believe Penny doesn’t want to work.” Kate shaded her eyes and looked at Jake. “She wants to be a
housewife.”

“So?” Jake tilted his can and drank. “It’s not prostitution. Leave her alone.”

“Women fought for years so we could have careers,” Kate said. “She’s throwing it all away.”

“I thought women fought for the right to choose to work,” Jake said, putting his can back in the cooler. “I thought it was all about choice.”

“You don’t understand,” Kate said.

“Sure, I do.” Jake leaned back on the cushions. “In the bad old days, men kept women from choosing to work. In the bad new days, women keep women from choosing to stay home.”

Kate opened her mouth and then shut it again.

“Come on,” Jake said. “Tell me I’m a sexist pig.”

“I’m a sexist pig,” Kate said. “And a snob. And I’m not too bright.”

“Oh, hell,” Jake said, lying back down. “I like you a lot better when you’re calling me names.”

“I’m trying to do better,” Kate said.

“Well, stop it.” Jake pulled his hat over his eyes. “You were fine before.”

Kate watched him try to fall asleep. He was right. Self-pity was boring. So she’d made a few mistakes. A lot of mistakes. She still had more than a week of vacation in front of her. She had Penny to laugh with, and Nancy to plan with, and Jake to drift on the lake with every morning.

She nudged him with her foot.

“What?” he said.

“Can I come out on the lake with you again tomorrow?”

He tipped his hat back. “Depends. Are you going to be over this poor-little-me fit by then?”

“I’m over it now. Thanks for the sympathy.”

“You need sympathy like you need Derek and Terence and Paul. Are you playing pool with me tonight or not?”

“Yes,” Kate said. “But I’m going to win.”

“Oh?” Jake looked amused. “And what makes you think that?”

Kate batted her eyes at him once. “I’m not going to wear any underwear.”

Jake looked at her for a moment and then pulled his hat back over his face. “Me neither,” he said.

Wednesday night, things were always slow, Nancy told her. They used the time to clean and restock, talking and laughing together about disastrous dates past and future, and she gradually forgot to feel guilty about Rick. The bar was quiet with the low murmur of voices and the faint click of the balls from the pool table. As the time drew close to ten and all but the regulars had filtered out, Kate looked around and realized she knew everyone in the room by name.

She leaned on the bar and smiled at them all. Nancy, Jake, Will, Ben, Thelma, Henry, Early. Friends. Her eyes swept again to the back of the room where Jake was playing pool with Ben. He always looked taller and broader from the back. He was so easygoing and he always seemed to be just a minute away from laughing, and she’d look at his face and forget he was so big. But he was.

Then he bent over to make a shot, and his jeans stretched tight across his rear end. Nice rear end. She remembered how warm he’d been on top of her. If he were anybody but Jake...

“Don’t lean over the counter like that. You’re giving Rollie Beamis a heart attack,” Nancy said.

“I love it.” Kate turned around. “I know it’s unliberated of me, but I love being a hot blonde in a low-cut top. I especially love it because I’m thirty-five. I figured sexual magnetism had passed me by, and now here it comes when I least expected it.”

“I don’t see why it’s unliberated,” Nancy said.

“I think the idea is to use your mind for power, not your body.”

“Why? Men use their bodies to intimidate people every day.”

“I don’t think it’s the same thing.”

“Honey, use what the good Lord gave you, and since he did give you plenty, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t give others the pleasure of the scenery. Besides, the profits are up considerably since you started bending over the tables.”

“Well, hell, let’s shorten our skirts, then.” Kate grinned at her.

“Is that part of this plan?” Nancy said, pulling Kate’s notes out from under the bar.

“No,” Kate said. “This plan is boring and practical. For instance, did you ever think about buying your liquor in bulk with Will up at the hotel?”

“No,” Nancy said. “Why should I?”

“Major savings,” Kate said. “Look...” She pulled her notes around and showed Nancy her figures.

“Where’d you get these numbers?” Nancy asked.

“From Will.” Kate jerked her thumb toward the back of the bar where Will was sitting. “He’s enthusiastic about the idea. And he said there’s no problem with storing your overstock up there.”

“You talked about this with him?”

“Shouldn’t I have?” Kate looked uneasy. “He had the numbers. It’s just a suggestion.”

“No,” Nancy said. “No, it’s great. I’m just not used to having somebody else doing things about my bar.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Kate said. “I just asked him.”

“Kate, it’s all right. In fact, it’s great,” Nancy smiled at her. “In fact, it’s more than great, it’s wonderful. It’s just that I’ve done everything by myself for so long, I was surprised.”

“Well, you’re going to do this by yourself, too,” Kate said, turning to the back of the bar. “Let me get Will, and you can work this out.”

“No, wait.” Nancy caught her arm. “Show me the rest of the stuff you’ve cooked up first.”

They bent over the plans again.

Half an hour later, Nancy leaned on the bar and said, “This is amazing.”

“Well, if you like that, look at this,” Kate said, and pulled out her master plan. “If you doubled the size of the bar, put in a stage and dance area, and added another twenty tables, you could handle the hotel overflow crowd. Your profits should—”

“Wait a minute,” Nancy said, laughing. “Where would I get that kind of money? And how could I manage that big a place?”

Kate sighed. “I had a feeling you’d say that. I have this tendency to look at the bottom line and see profits first.” She smiled. “I may have caught Will’s employ-the-universe disease, too. This would create a few more jobs around here, give local bands some exposure, and bring more people down into town to see the shops. I just never stopped to think that it would also make life a lot more complex for you.”