A Deal With the Devil (8 page)

A wave of shame washed over him as he rolled onto his back and gazed up at the huge white flakes drifting down around them. “I’m sorry, Mand.”

“Why?”

Jake turned and studied her, his attention drawn to her stubborn little chin. Then he looked back at the sky. “Does it matter now?” Why revisit ancient history? They’d been over a long time.

“Guess not.” Her tone sounded as frigid as the snow beneath them.

Jake stood and extended a hand to help her up.

She ignored him and struggled to her feet. She brushed the snow off her jeans and then stuck her chin in the air as she marched toward the wood pile. Jake trailed behind and tried to ignore the sting of shame he felt at having one of his lesser moments thrown back in his face. Still, while the break-up hadn’t been his best moment, it had been the right move—for both of them. She must have realized it too. Towards the end, their relationship had devolved into an endless stream of arguments, peppered with less frequent bouts of hot make-up sex. Plus, they’d been over for almost a year so it was time she got over it.

Actually, the fact that they were over was the very thing that made his fake engagement idea so brilliant. He’d thought of little else the night before. He’d barely slept on that hard-as-a-rock excuse for a sofa Kate had chosen for the living room. Or maybe it had been the thought of Amanda asleep upstairs that kept him tossing and turning. Whatever the cause, he’d analyzed his proposal a thousand ways from Sunday and now, he considered the idea a flash of pure genius. So long as they kept their agreement all business, no one would get hurt, he’d get his business started and she’d get to experience the year in Paris she’d always dreamed of. It was the perfect win-win scenario.

He loaded her arms with as many logs as she could carry and then grabbed a stack for himself. As they slogged toward the house, the wind whipped around, slowing their progress. When the porch came into view, Jake eyed the glossy sheen of the stairs with concern. “Mand, watch the step. It looks sli—”

His warning came too late. Amanda’s foot lost traction and skated over the icy surface. She cried out as her body twisted and contorted in what looked like dramatic slow motion. She waved her arms as she struggled to stay on her feet and then collapsed in a heap at the base of the stairs as wood logs rained down around her.

Jake muttered a curse, threw down his stack and rushed to her side. “Are you okay?”

Amanda nodded, her face flushed. He didn’t know if from pain, cold or embarrassment—perhaps all three.

“Here let me help.”

He extended a hand, but she swatted it away. Instead, she grabbed the rail and hauled herself up, wincing as she tried to put weight on her right foot. He reached for her elbow but she pushed his arm away and hobbled up the stairs on her own. She nearly fell again when she stepped onto the porch. Her wobbly legs gave her the look of a new-born colt attempting to walk for the first time, but she managed to stay on her feet.

Jake held the door as she limped across the threshold and a last whoosh of cold air followed them inside as he closed and locked it behind them.

He watched her hop across the living room on one foot and flop onto the sofa. “Tell me,” he said, his mouth twisting into a wry grin. “Do you find it hard to accept help from everyone or just from me in particular?”

* * *

“The correct answer would be B—you in particular.” She grunted as she pulled off her boot. She was done trying to be nice.

Jake kicked off his own boots and tossed his coat and gloves onto a nearby chair. Then he sauntered over and reached out to touch her ankle, but she smacked his hand away.

“You need to do something to stop the swelling.” He stepped back, gazing down at her. “What can I do?”

She glared at him. You could walk back to Chicago. But she kept the thought to herself and turned her attention to her ankle, which indeed looked swollen. She poked at it, wincing as pain shot through to her toes.

“Stop messing with it. You’re making it worse.”

“Stop telling me what to do,” she grumbled. She hadn’t thought the situation could get any worse, but she supposed it would if she couldn’t walk tomorrow. She needed to do something to stop the swelling. Embarrassed to utter her next words after the way she’d teased him the night before, Amanda tipped her head down, causing her curtain of dark hair to swing forward, partially concealing her face. “Can you bring me the frozen peas?”

Jake ambled off to the kitchen, whistling that familiar off key tune. The sound only made her feel worse. He walked up beside her and set the frozen vegetables on her ankle with flourish. “The peas aren’t so funny now, huh? Anything else I can do?”

She lifted her chin and feigned an air of superiority as she said, “Bring me my cell. It’s upstairs on the night stand.”

Jake executed a mock salute and sprinted up the stairs to retrieve her phone. He handed it to her and said, “Will there be anything else, my queen?”

She tossed her hair over a shoulder and avoided his gaze. “I’ll let you know.”

Jake turned away, whistling as he headed toward the kitchen.

She glared at the TV, trying to figure out what she’d done to deserve an injury. He’s the one who’d been collecting bad karma.

A few minutes later, Jake returned and handed her a mug of piping-hot coffee. Then he moved to the fireplace and starting stoking the logs.

“Thank you.” She blew on the steaming beverage while eyeing him with suspicion. She took a sip and her lips curved up as the coffee slid down her throat, warming her from the inside. He’d gotten the mix just right—no small feat since she’d elevated her coffee doctoring skills to the level of fine art. She cast a sideways glance at Jake. “You remembered,” she murmured. She wasn’t sure if she’d said it loudly enough for him to hear and didn’t care.

Jake threw more logs onto the fire and stared straight ahead for a long moment, his expression stoic. Then he said, “One scoop of sugar, one and a quarter shots of milk and a sprinkle of mocha.”

His words warmed her even more than the coffee had, but she checked herself. The perfectly-mixed concoction amounted to little more than attempted bribery; an attempt to seduce her into going along with his fake engagement idea. Well she had news for him. It would take a lot more than a bag of frozen peas and a cup of perfectly mixed coffee to get her to agree to
that
.

Jake threw a last log onto the fire and jabbed at the stack with the iron poker. Sparks shot high into the chimney and with a look of satisfaction; he returned the tool to the stand. “I better get a shower in while there’s still hot water left.” He headed for the stairs. “Hopefully Sam left some clothes. I didn’t exactly come prepared to stay.”

“Save some hot water for me,” she called over her shoulder as he bounded up the stairs, two at a time. She eyed the stairs with concern, wondering how she’d hobble up the stairs with her ankle in such sorry shape. But she’d worry about that later.

When he got to the top, he glanced down at her. “You’re welcome to join me if you’d like.”

She shot a dark glance over her shoulder.

“What?” Jake shrugged, his face composed into a mask of faux innocence. “Who knows how long we’ll be here. We need to conserve hot water.”

Amanda rolled her eyes.

Her cell phone buzzed.

She picked it up and glanced at the display. Rob.
Crap
. She cast a nervous glance over her shoulder. Given their bitter fights about her parenting skills, or lack thereof, the last thing she needed was for Jake to overhear her conversation. So she waited until he closed the bedroom door before she answered.

“Hey,” she said, trying to forget that Rob only called when he wanted something and lately, the something tended to be money.

“I stopped by your place. Where are you?”

“I’m at Sam and Kate’s cabin in Lake Geneva.”

“What’re you doing all the way up there?”

The frown in his voice caused her to tighten her grip on the phone and she tried not to speculate about what he might want. “I needed to get away. We discussed my trip last week, remember?”

“I forgot.” He sounded distracted. “Great timing since we’re about to get dumped with a mountain of snow. Was that the plan?”

“No. Kate convinced me to use the cabin and the snow is worse than I anticipated. Now I’m stuck here.” She didn’t mention Jake. Rob idolized Jake and if he knew he was here, it would lead to too many questions. Questions she didn’t feel like answering.

Rob chuckled. “You should know better than to listen to her. Kate’s always getting you into hot water.”

He’d done a pretty good job with the hot water thing himself the past few months, but she kept the sentiment to herself. She slid a pillow under her ankle and repositioned the peas. Then, she nestled back into the sofa cushions and waited for Rob to get to the point.

She didn’t have to wait long.

“Listen, Mand,” —he hesitated for a moment and then said— “I need another twenty thousand.”

Amanda shot to her feet, the peas plopped to the floor and a stabbing, searing pain blasted through her right leg. She flinched and shifted her weight to her left foot. “Twenty thousand dollars!” Her shout—fueled in part by outrage and part by the pain radiating from her wounded ankle—echoed back from the cabin walls.

The door opened upstairs. Jake poked his head out and called down, “Did you say something?”

Damn! For a second, she’d actually forgotten about Jake. Amanda flopped back onto the sofa and covered the phone so Rob wouldn’t hear her response. “No, sorry,” she called. “I was just playing with the volume on the television.”

Jake closed the door and a few moments later, the shower turned on. Amanda put the phone back to her ear. “Sorry.”

“Who was that? Is someone there with you?”

Amanda groaned inwardly and repeated her lie. “No. I was just playing with the volume on the TV.”

“Then why—”

“Don’t try to change the subject,” she said. “I’d love to know where you think I’d get the money.”

“Yeah, I know it’s sort of a lot.” Rob sounded sheepish.

The lame admission wasn’t enough for Amanda; not after their endless discussions on the subject. “Sort of a lot? I’d say twenty thousand equates to a
hell
of a lot—especially on top of the money I’ve already given you.”

“You know I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t really need it.”

She knew no such thing. She tried to stay calm, but couldn’t mask the undercurrent of anger in her voice as she said, “Rob, I’ve cleaned out my savings
and
taken on a second mortgage. You know there’s nothing left. I recall being quite clear about my financial situation when I gave you the last loan.”

“It’s expensive starting a restaurant. There are unexpected costs.”

Apparently there were a
lot
of unexpected costs; for
her
.

She drew in a long breath and tried to harden herself to his pleas. “What about your partners?”

“Tapped out,” he said. “They’ve put in even more than I have.”

“In that case, you and your partners need to apply for a business loan.”

“It would never get approved. No one wants to loan money to a bunch of guys right out of college.”

She couldn’t have said it better herself. So why had she done it? She’d asked herself the same question hundreds of times the past six months and still couldn’t figure it out.

Almost immediately, guilt stirred and she could hear her mother’s voice, clear as day, reminding her to take care of Rob on his first day of kindergarten. As big sister, her job was to watch over him, to protect him. And since he was all she now had, she took her role very seriously. She didn’t consider it her job to question the wisdom of his hopes and dreams. She needed to be supportive. Her mother would undoubtedly tell her as much if she were still alive. And that—more than any other reason—is why she’d loaned Rob the money. She wanted to be there for him in the way her parents would’ve been.

Still, her financial well had run dry. Any future support would have to come without monetary reinforcement. “You know I don’t have any money, Rob.”

“Will you at least consider it?”

Say no
. She heard Kate’s voice, clear as day, inside her head.

I am saying no. He’s not listening.

She hated how she always felt compelled to justify her actions to Kate—whether in person or when she popped up inside her head as she seemed to do with increasing regularity. Kate’s evil twin—as Amanda liked to think of the disembodied voice—seemed hell-bent on harassing her every time she spoke with her brother and she was tired of it. She got lectured by the real Kate far too often already.

“Please?” Rob prodded her.

Amanda felt her resolve weaken as it always did, which was precisely how she had ended up in this mess. “Sure, I’ll think about it.”

Think about it. Amanda sighed. There was nothing to think about. She could ponder her financial status nonstop for the next three years and the answer would be the same; she had no money. Rob’s tenacious quest for cash seemed akin to a consistent drip of water on the forehead. Eventually you’d cave—if for no other reason, than to get the torture to stop. “I’ll call you when I get back.”