“If?”
Oh, she’d call, all right. And unless he was mistaken, it would be to discuss the money she owed him. In his mind, the balance was zero. He’d written it off ages ago. But...
“Anything’s possible,” he told Whitney, quickly adding, “Can we change the subject, please?”
When he pulled into her driveway, she sat, still and silent, staring through the windshield. It seemed like a full ten minutes before she said, “Would you mind very much if we skipped Sabatino’s tonight?”
“Why?” As if you don’t know.
She unbuckled her seat belt. “It’s just... This has been a long week. I just need a good night’s sleep.”
He could have pointed out that it was only Thursday. That neither of them had worked today. But since she’d said it all without looking in his direction...
Jase felt like a heel. She was so uncomfortable she couldn’t even make eye contact. He needed to take care from here on out. He didn’t want to hurt her.
“I didn’t mean for that to come out all mean and grouchy.”
The look she gave him said “Oh, really.” But she said, “Can you come in for a few minutes?”
He wanted to say no. That he was tired, too. What if that brief encounter with Lillie had made her add two and two...and come up with three’s a crowd?
“Sure,” he said, turning off the truck, taking his time while removing the keys from the ignition. “I’d like that.”
“Leave the front door open,” she said as he stepped into the foyer. “It’s a gorgeous day, and the breeze will feel good.”
The gray sky and the scent of impending rain didn’t agree.
Whitney poured two glasses of iced tea and sat at the kitchen table. The instant he was situated, she said, “I guess that was really hard. Seeing her after all this time, I mean.”
“Not really.”
“You can be honest with me, Jason. No need to tiptoe around my feelings. I know that what you two had is over.”
Jason. Again. Would she ever figure out how he felt about that?
“So you’re okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
She looked at him as though he’d grown a big hairy mole in the middle of his forehead.
“From what I’ve gathered, the breakup wasn’t easy on you.”
Jase had intentionally avoided talking about Lillie, as much to spare his feelings as hers. Because yes, the split had been difficult, for him and for Lillie.
“Who told you that?” he wanted to know.
“Your mom. And Dora.”
He found it hard to believe his mother would bring the subject up. And even though Whitney worked at the same firm as his brother, his sister-in-law, too. He suspected Dora hadn’t talked about it either. But why would Whitney make that up?
He swallowed a gulp of the tea. Concentrated on sounding cool and calm and completely in control. “How’d Lillie’s name come up?”
Head tilted toward the ceiling and eyes closed, she groaned. “We... It just did, okay? Dora and Drew and I were having lunch one day. Drew admitted he was frustrated at how long it’s taking to make partner, said the board’s lack of commitment to the associates was getting on his last nerve. One thing led to another, and before I knew it, the conversation went from work, to family loyalty, to Drew and Dora’s upcoming anniversary. And all of a sudden, Drew left the room.”
Jase pretended not to have heard the family loyalty thing. “Seven years this summer.” He was half joking when he added, “Drew isn’t worried about the seven-year itch, I hope.”
“No, no. At least, I don’t think so. While we were alone, Dora told me that your mom keeps asking why she and Drew hadn’t started a family yet. Dora said she’d grown super tired of answering the question. She said—and I quote—‘I told her that my name isn’t Lillie. Living the white-picket-fence life isn’t for me.’ I asked how your mother reacted. Dora said, ‘Same as always. Colette just shrugged it off, said everything happens for a reason, and how lucky Jase was that Lillie’s problems prevented the picket-fence life.’”
Whitney sipped her tea. “I think maybe your mother was right.”
“Really.” Jase stiffened. He didn’t like being the focus of a conversation like that. Didn’t like the way Whitney appeared to enjoy his mother’s feelings toward Lillie either.
“It’s easy to see why she feels that way. She probably knows how tough it would have been for you, raising a child alone, while Lillie was off...well, you know...”
Jase did his best to reel in the resentment broiling in his gut. Whitney had no right, making assumptions about her! Yeah, he did know Lillie. Probably better than she knew herself. If they had married and had a baby before the accident, she never would have grown dependent on drugs, no matter how bad the pain got. Devotion to her child would have assured it. It hurt more than he cared to admit that her devotion to him hadn’t been enough to keep Lillie from—
“When I saw you with her today,” Whitney said, picking at her burlap place mat before turning her gaze to him, “I realized I needed to let you know...I’d never hurt you that way. Never.” Jase bristled slightly under her intense scrutiny. Was she gearing up to say she loved him? He hoped not. They’d been seeing each other for nearly three months, and while he cared for Whitney, he wasn’t anywhere ready to say those words.
Jase blanketed her hands with his own. “You look really pretty today. Did I tell you that?”
A myriad of emotions flickered across her face. Confusion. Disappointment. Hurt. To her credit, Whitney got hold of herself quickly.
“Only four or five times,” she said. “But what girl doesn’t like hearing her guy thinks she looks good!”
Lillie didn’t. She’d waved off every word of praise that came her way, whether about her good looks or her vocal and artistic talents. “I can’t take credit for any of that,” she’d say. “It’s built into my DNA. My parents and grandparents should be hearing the compliments, not me!”
“You sure you don’t want to go to Sabatino’s? We still have the reservation.”
“Yeah, okay,” she said, echoing his earlier words. “I’d like that.”
He squeezed her hands, then let go as she stood.
“Just give me a few minutes to freshen up.”
While she was gone, he walked from the kitchen to the living room, where she’d arranged sleek, modern furnishings on a white shag rug. Tall narrow black figurines stood on the marble mantel, and heavy swirled-glass bowls decorated the teak coffee table. He could see storm clouds through the sheer white curtains.
“You about ready, Whit? Looks like we’re in for some rain...”
“Just two more minutes, hon,” he heard her say from the bathroom doorway.
Hon. If anyone else had said it, Jase would have chalked it up to a “Baltimore-ism.” But Whitney had never been one to imitate others.
Unlike Lillie, who loved colloquialisms and spouted them every chance she got.
He caught himself smiling, and didn’t like it one bit. Jase ground a fist into a palm. He’d worked hard to get her out of his system, to get on with life, without her. And he’d succeeded. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—let her destroy that!
* * *
“IT’S