Save the Date (32 page)

“Why wouldn’t she? What? You don’t think Brooke and Harris want kids?”

“Honestly? I’m not sure Brooke knows what she wants.”

“Harris seems like a decent guy. I guess I was expecting some snotty, stuck-up punk. The Strayhorns have more money than God. But he’s okay. He came out to the farm yesterday and helped us unload some materials. He asked a lot of questions. He’s really interested in the old building.”

“He’s nice,” Cara agreed.

“What? You don’t like their chances either?”

Cara shugged. “Doesn’t matter. It’s not like I’m an expert.”

“You seem pretty down tonight.”

“Just a little tired. Want to go upstairs?”

He grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.”

*   *   *

Their lovemaking had a different edge this time, but neither of them could have said why.

Afterward, Cara lay with her chin on Jack’s chest, and with his fingertip he traced slow circles on her bare back. “Want to talk about your day? I’m happy to listen. Are you still worried about your building being sold?”

“It’s just been an all-around sucky day. And not just that. I haven’t even really had time to think about calling my real-estate agent.”

“Why don’t you just go see this Cullen Kane? Put your cards on the table. Let him know you want to stay.”

She hesitated. “The thing is—maybe I shouldn’t stay.”

“Hey!” He cupped his hand under her chin. “What’s that mean?”

“The Colonel—my father, called this morning. He wants his money back, which is not new, but now he’s taken things to an entirely new level of guilt inducement. He actually told me it was a good thing my mom was dead—so she can’t see what a disappointment I’ve become.”

She forced a brittle smile. “He never says he misses her. But I know he does, and I guess his pressuring me to come home is his screwed-up way of saying he misses me too.”

Jack wrapped both arms around her. “Oh God, honey. I’m sorry. No wonder you’re so on edge tonight. So … what? You’re saying maybe you should close up the shop and go home to be with your dad? I get that. But if you’re not sure?”

“No,” Cara cut him off. “I don’t want to go home. Ohio’s his home, not mine. It’s the last place I want to be right now. Which pretty much makes me the worst daughter ever. I’m a horrible person, you know.”

She gave him a sad smile. “Run away, Jack Finnerty. You’re much too nice for a selfish, rotten person like me.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said firmly. “If you don’t want to go back to Ohio, you must have your reasons. And you’re not a horrible person.”

“Maybe not. But I’m pretty screwed up.” She gave him a condensed version of her parents’ toxic marriage. “I can’t remember a time when either of them seemed happy together. When my dad was stationed overseas, my mom resented his being gone. I guess that’s when the drinking started. But when he was home, it was even worse. When I was away at college, I used to look for any excuse not to go home to see them. Freshman year, I even went skiing with a friend in Tahoe, just so I wouldn’t have to spend Christmas listening to them snipe at each other. I went away for spring break too, and as soon as I got back, that’s when she got really sick. Six months later, she was dead.”

“Why do you think they stayed together all that time?” Jack asked.

She gave a rueful laugh. “I’ve asked myself that same question a hundred times. I don’t know. Maybe they were so used to miserable they didn’t know there were any other possibilities.”

Jack squeezed her shoulder.

“In a way, I think maybe that’s why when Leo asked me to marry him, I said yes.”

“Just so you could get away from home?”

“That was part of it. But a big part of it was Leo’s family. They are absolutely the nicest, most normal people you ever met. His parents have been married forever. They ran a business together, and they’re retired now, but they still do everything together. They hold hands in the grocery store, and his dad calls his mom his bride. And he has this sweet grandmother—everybody calls her Grannie Annie. Leo has two younger brothers and a sister, who was like my best friend, until the divorce. I think I convinced myself that if I married Leo, we would have the same kind of marriage his parents had.”

“If he comes from such a great family, how come Leo turned out so bad?”

“I wish I knew. Sometimes, I wonder if things would have been different if we’d stayed up in Ohio, you know, around his family, instead of moving down here to Savannah.”

“No,” Jack said succinctly. “He would have had an affair with an Ohio secretary or an Ohio babysitter. Your ex sounds like a player, darlin’, and a player is always gonna play.”

Cara smiled up at him. “Did you just call me darlin’?”

“I dunno. Did I? Did you like that?”

“Say it again.”

“Maybe later. Something I’ve been wondering. Why were things so bad here for you? Is it the town? Do you hate Savannah?”

“Not really. Well, at first maybe I did. It’s just that—this is pathetic. I still sometimes feel like an alien down here. I guess part of it’s that I sound like a Yankee.”

“Not all the time.”

“You’re just saying that so you can get in my pants,” Cara teased.

“It worked, didn’t it?”

“Leo? As soon as we moved down here, he was in his element. He was here a week and he was already saying ‘fixin’ to,’ and ‘hey y’all’ and ‘bless your heart.’ He just fit right in.”

“Like a pig in slop,” Jack said.

“Huh?”

“It’s a Southern thing, darlin’. And you’re saying you didn’t fit in?”

“Not really. After I left Leo, I didn’t even have a girlfriend I could call up to help me move. I only had Bert, who, come to think of it, is my only girlfriend in Savannah.”

Cara sighed deeply. “That’s why I’m so bugged by how he’s been acting lately. He’s apparently got some new boyfriend he won’t talk about. Which is not like Bert at all. Usually, he wants to spill all the tawdry little details of his latest conquest. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just jealous.”

“It sounds like you’ve got good reason to be upset with him, if he’s not doing his job,” Jack pointed out.

“The thing is, if he keeps up this way, I won’t have any other choice but to fire him. And I don’t want that. I want to keep him, as my assistant, and my friend.”

Jack kissed her shoulder and ran his hands down her back, lingering on her butt. “I’ll be your friend.” He pulled her closer and nudged a knee between her thighs. “I’m a really awesome friend.”

“Mmm,” Cara said slowly. “But can you fix flowers?”

39

In the morning, Cara sat up and marveled at the man in bed beside her. Sunlight splashed across his shoulders, so brown against her white sheets. His dark hair was tousled and his cheek was stubbled. His breathing was deep and even. She could have watched him like that all morning, he was that nice to wake up to.

It had rained hard overnight, and with the windows open, there was still somewhat of a cooling breeze.

They’d closed the bedroom door the night before, and now she heard a soft scratching at the door. Poppy? Or Shaz? She swung her legs over the side of the bed, but before she could move, a dark arm snaked around her waist.

She glanced over her shoulder. “Don’t go,” Jack mumbled.

“Gotta let the dogs out. Go back to sleep.”

“Mmm. Come back to bed.”

Cara pulled on a pair of drawstring cotton boxer shorts and a cami and slid her feet into flip-flops. The dogs raced each other down the stairs, and out into the courtyard garden.

She went into the kitchenette and started the coffeepot. Did she have any food in the house for breakfast? There was nothing in the kitchenette fridge, except a pint of half-and-half, some bottles of water, two cans of Red Bull, and a jar of pickles. And two cardboard cartons of leftover Chinese takeout. Shrimp with lobster sauce for breakfast? She shuddered.

When the coffee was ready, she fixed two mugs. Realized she didn’t know how the man she’d just slept with took his coffee. She shrugged. She knew the most important things there were to know about Jack Finnerty. He was kind and thoughtful. He snored, but softly. Unlike other men she’d been with, he didn’t fall asleep instantly after lovemaking. She smiled, thinking back to last night. He’d been the only good thing about Friday.

Upstairs, she brushed her teeth quickly and finger-combed her messy hair. She set a mug on the nightstand and stood looking down at Jack.

Without warning he reached out, grabbed her hand, and pulled her back onto the bed.

“Hey,” she protested. “I thought you were sleeping.”

He rolled over on his side to face her and ran his hands up under her camisole, brushing her nipples with his thumbs. He kissed her deeply, and she tasted toothpaste. “You weren’t asleep at all!”

“It’s called playin’ possum,” he chuckled.

*   *   *

Their coffee got cold. Eventually, she made another pot. Jack leashed up the dogs and walked them over to Parker’s on Drayton Street, bringing back two sausage biscuits—for him—and a blueberry muffin—for her.

While he was gone, Cara showered and dressed quickly in shorts and a tank top. Not even nine o’clock yet, and it was already getting hot and sticky upstairs.

They took their coffee and breakfast out into the courtyard garden. Jack pointed out a suspicious mound of dirt beneath one of the crepe myrtles. “Looks like Shaz was trying to tunnel out of here this morning. Sorry about that.”

“It could just as well have been Poppy,” Cara said.

She’d propped open the back door to the shop so the dogs could come and go, and now they heard a loud knocking at the front door.

“Ignore that,” Cara told Jack. “Probably some guy desperate to buy flowers for a forgotten anniversary.”

The knocking continued.

“Sounds pretty desperate,” Jack said. “Maybe you should take pity on the poor guy and bail him out.”

Cara rolled her eyes, but she stood up and went to the front door, where the knocking continued.

“Hang on,” she called. “I’m coming.”

*   *   *

She pulled up the shade and stared out at her desperate customer. Only it was no customer. It was Leo. Her ex.

Her first instinct was to pull the shade back down and run the other way. But it was too late for that. He’d already seen her.

He was dressed for work: sport coat, tie, slacks, polished loafers. His Ray-Bans hung from a band around his neck. He looked good, like the kind of cute guy you’d flirt with if you stood next to him in line at Starbucks. Which, come to think of it, was how they’d met all those years ago. Incredibly, he held a huge bunch of lilacs in his right hand, and a box of cheap drugstore chocolates in the other.

She unlocked the door and opened it.

“Cara!” His eyes lit up. “I didn’t, I mean, I wasn’t sure you’d be here. Or, if you were, if you’d open the door.”

“I’m here, Leo,” she said, forcing herself to look stern. “What do you want?”

“Here.” He thrust the flowers and chocolates toward her. His sandy blond hair flopped into his eyes. In another minute, if she wasn’t careful, she’d push his hair back, straighten his tie. Old habits died hard. Instead, she kept her hands at her side, fists clenched tightly.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“It’s an anniversary present. Happy anniversary Cara.”

Anniversary? She frowned. And then it dawned on her. Seven years ago today, she’d made the biggest mistake of her life.

“Leo, we’re divorced. We don’t have an anniversary anymore.”

“Sure we do. Just because you signed a piece of paper, that doesn’t change the fact that we got married.” He leaned in and touched her cheek. “I’ve missed you, baby.”

She batted his hand away.

“Really? You missed me? Why’s that? Did your girlfriend find herself another married man to fool around with?”

He rocked back on his heels a bit, eyes wide in surprise. He wasn’t used to this attitude. Not from her. She’d been sweet as pie most of her life. Fun-loving, easygoing, eager to please. It had been Leo’s idea to move to Savannah, a year after their marriage. A great job opportunity, he said. Unlimited chance for advancement in his sales career.

So she’d smiled and nodded, then packed up her life in Columbus, Ohio. Waved good-bye to family and friends. She’d quit the job she loved, managing a vintage clothing store near the university. And she’d moved to the South—a place she’d never even visited, except for a couple of spring break trips to Florida—to Savannah, a place where she didn’t know a single living soul.

That Cara was gone now, she told herself. Never to return.

Leo, a born salesman, never met a deal he couldn’t close.

“Aww, Cara,” he said, his voice low, mouth turned down. A textbook picture of contrition.

“That’s all over with. It was over as soon as it began. I was such a jerk. I can’t believe what I put you through. And for what? For nothing. Swear to God, you were always the only girl for me. The only girl I ever loved. My mom calls me every Sunday and wants to know when we’re getting back together.”

Her face hardened. “Tell her we’re not getting back together. Tell her you cheated on me.”

“Grannie Annie had a stroke last month. Did you know that? Dad fixed her up an apartment in the garage at our place. She still has our wedding picture on her dresser.”

She sighed. “Don’t do this to me, Leo. Please?” She had her hand on the door, was about to close it. But he was too quick for her. Always had been.

He lowered his head, put his lips next to her ears before she could jerk away. “Cara Mia, why?”

It was a line from the song, the stupid song her mother named her for. In another minute, if she let him, he’d be warbling “Must we say good-bye?”

“This won’t work, Leo,” she said, shaking her head sadly.

“Just let me take you out to dinner. No strings, just a nice dinner with a nice bottle of wine. Please? It’s killing me, to think of you alone on our anniversary.”

“I won’t be alone,” Cara said. “And as it happens, I already have plans tonight.”

“Oh yeah. Right. Saturday, and it’s wedding season so you’re probably working. But what about after? A late dinner? I know the maître d’ at the new place on Orleans Square.…”