We Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus. Brenda NovakЧитать онлайн книгу.
him…What…?
She lowered her voice until Cole could barely hear her, but now that he’d heard his name, he strained to catch the rest.
“I can’t believe you just said that. We’re not doing anything. You have no right to even ask me that! Cole and I have never so much as kissed…Are the kids there? Did you just say that in front of Alex?…Forget it. I’m hanging up, Terry…”
Finally, in one frustrated-sounding burst, she said, “Well, he wouldn’t have to be very good to be better than you.” Then she hung up, leaving Cole wondering what he wouldn’t have to be very good at. On the heels of her previous words, his imagination certainly presented some interesting possibilities. But they were possibilities he refused to entertain, because he knew that anything physical with Jackie would come at a price higher than he was willing to pay. He’d already raised all the kids he was going to raise. He wouldn’t go through that hell again. And he’d already learned that marriage didn’t suit him, either.
“Sorry about that,” she said, returning.
“No problem. I’ve got to get going, anyway.” He stood and opened his mouth to offer her the money he’d intended to give. He wanted to write her a check and be on his way. He didn’t want to look back. But deep down he knew it couldn’t be that easy. A woman with Jackie’s pride wouldn’t accept charity. So he did exactly what he’d promised himself he wouldn’t do, and offered her the job she’d asked for, instead.
“I thought you didn’t have anything,” she said.
“Well, it won’t be much to start with. You’ll just have to fill in wherever we need you, and eventually we’ll get you into the sales end of things. Once you get your license and some training, you can work anywhere.”
Scowling, she said, “Cole, don’t do this if—”
“Everyone needs a little help sooner or later, Jackie. When I came to Reno, there was a man who helped me get my start in real estate.” His mentor. The one person who’d buoyed him up when he thought he’d drowned in responsibility. “I’m just passing on the favor. Besides, this isn’t a handout. You’ll work for your money. The position pays twenty-five hundred a month plus benefits. Can you get by on that?”
She nodded eagerly. “When do you want me to start?”
“Tomorrow, if you can.”
A smile curved her lips. With hair falling from her ponytail in wispy strands, and hope and relief lighting her eyes, she looked incredibly attractive. She sure hadn’t changed much since high school. Deep down Cole feared neither of them had changed enough. She no longer made his palms sweat, but she did strange things to his chest and caused a strong response in regions a little lower.
“I’ll be there,” she promised, then surprised him by standing on tiptoe to give him a quick hug. “Thanks, Cole. I’ll do a good job for you,” she murmured.
At least, that was what he thought she said. All he knew was that suddenly his nostrils were full of the scent of her, and his arms were full of the feel of her, and he could no longer regret hiring her.
He even thought about giving her a raise.
CHAPTER FOUR
THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING,not on my first day! Jaclyn glanced at her watch, cringed when she saw she had only ten minutes until she was supposed to report at Perrini Homes, and frantically pumped the gas pedal of her Mercury Sable.
Come on, baby, start. Start!
The engine whined and chugged more slowly than before, then fell completely silent. Another turn of the ignition key caused nothing but a clicking sound. Her battery was dead. She’d have to go to the neighbor’s and ask for a jump.
“Of all the blasted times,” she muttered, getting out and trudging to Mr. Alder’s next door. Careful to protect her best suit from the automatic sprinklers watering his lawn, she kept to the far side of the concrete walkway until she reached the porch, then gave his front door a hearty knock.
No one answered. She pounded two more times and had nearly given up in favor of Mrs. Lavender’s across the street, when Mr. Alder finally opened up, wearing a tattered terry-cloth robe. He gazed at her in surprise, his white hair sticking up on all sides, the pattern of crumpled bedding imprinted on one whiskery cheek.
“Is it garbage day?” he asked.
Jaclyn cleared her throat, feeling a twinge of guilt for having dragged him from his bed to ask a favor. Retired for nearly eight years and a widower besides, he spent his time tinkering around his property. His days were probably long enough already. And it wasn’t as though he particularly liked Jaclyn or her children. When they were home, Mackenzie, Alex and Alyssa disrupted the silence of the neighborhood, left their trikes and scooters in the road, sometimes picked his flowers as presents for her and generally pestered him at every opportunity. They considered any man over sixty a potential grandpa and were determined to win him over. But so far their efforts had done more to alienate than endear. Jaclyn had only chosen him as her savior today because she thought he’d be more mechanical than the little old lady across the street.
“I’m sorry to wake you,” she said, “but I’m in a tight spot. I’m supposed to be at work in—” she checked her watch again and stifled a groan “—five minutes, and my car won’t start. Is there any chance you could give me a jump?”
He angled his head to see her car sitting in her driveway with the hood up, and harrumphed. Then he muttered that he’d be right back and disappeared into the house. When he returned, he was dressed in his customary polyester slacks, short-sleeved, button-up shirt and wing-tipped shoes. A pair of jumper cables was clutched in one gnarled hand.
Jaclyn kept a vigilant but despairing eye on the time, while Mr. Alder moved his car alongside hers and hooked the jumper cables to both batteries. It was eight o’clock. She was late already. What was she going to tell Cole? Her tardiness might make him believe Joanna’s was justified in firing her. She thought of going inside to call him, but didn’t want to start her first day offering excuses. With Mr. Alder’s help, she should be there soon.
Trying to keep calm, she climbed into her car, waited for Mr. Alder’s signal and turned on the ignition. To her relief, the engine roared to life.
“Thanks,” she called, as he removed the cables. “I’ll bake you an apple pie this weekend, if you’d like one. Or maybe you’d prefer some strawberry jam. I make great strawberry jam.”
“Just tell your children to leave the rocks along the side of my yard alone,” he said, his voice as gruff and cross as ever.
The rocks? What could her children possibly do to hurt some ugly old lava rocks? “I’ll tell them,” Jaclyn said, sighing as she shifted into reverse and backed down the drive. Mr. Alder’s patent disapproval was starting to get the best of her, but she’d have to deal with that later. She had more important things to worry about right now—like turning a seven-or eight-minute drive into no more than two or three.
Unfortunately, rush-hour traffic worked against her. By the time she arrived at Cole’s office, it was nearly eight-twenty, and Cole wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Neither was his brother, Chad. But the man she’d passed as she was leaving last time sat in the front office, talking on the phone. He lifted a finger to indicate he’d be with her in a minute, then bowed his head and jumped back into the conversation he’d been having when she entered.
“…I’m telling you we need those Sheetrockers there tomorrow. This house doesn’t close by the fifteenth, it ain’t gonna close, you know what I’m saying? Right, and in order to do that, we gotta get rid of these last few stragglers…No, that’s not good enough. The bank’s watchin’ us closely, wondering whether or not to plunk down another few mil. We need to convince them that their money’s perfectly safe with us, and sales are the only way to do that. We have to close some escrows…That’s right…Cole wanted it to happen yesterday…okay, see that it does…you got it…take