A Marriage Between Friends (13 page)

Vince peered at the crossed-out label. “It says ‘storyteller stage.’ And ‘dancers dressing room.’”

“Like I said, Edda Mae turned us down.” Arnie lasted about five more seconds before cracking under Vince’s hard stare. “We assumed she’d want her storytelling to benefit the tribe. Jill obviously had other plans.”

“You were going to have dancers on stage with Edda Mae?” Vince visualized Edda Mae in traditional Native American costume and topless dancers behind her.

Arnie shrugged. “Edda Mae has been our tribe’s storyteller for years. I thought we could do something tasteful like they do at Hawaiian luaus with all the dancers fully clothed. We wouldn’t need to book lounge acts if Edda Mae agreed to work with us.”

Since it sounded like something his grandfather would do, Vince could understand the idea, but that didn’t mean he was going to put up with Arnie hounding Jill or Edda Mae. “It’s not going to happen. Tell me about your permits.”

“The paperwork is filled out and waiting funding approval.” Arnie nodded. “I estimated a year for construction.”

A year? There’s where the overconfidence of the amateur came in. The tribe could never pull off a job like this in a year. Such bravado meant weakness. Arnie had played right into Vince’s hands. Vince named the amount, totaling several millions, he was willing to put up for the project—Arnie’s eyes lit up—and then Vince told him the percentage of the profits he’d want his grandfather’s company to receive—Arnie’s expression sobered.

“That’s more than we budgeted,” Arnie said. “I’m counting on the casino to help my people. That leaves us barely enough to pave the roads in and out of town. It’ll make it hard to garner the support of local businesses.”

“You’re asking me to invest without any up-front incentives. You’ve got to give me something.” Vince laughed, but it was a hollow sound. It was too much to hope that Arnie would turn down such a lucrative offer. “Besides, the jobs created will help supplement improvements in the community through increased taxes, just like you said.”

“I’ll have to run this by the tribal council.” Arnie clenched his jaw.

“Of course.”

“They may not buy it.” Arnie tried once more to pressure Vince.

Vince shrugged. “Just in case they do, I’ll have my lawyers draw up the contracts. You’ll have them by the end of the week.”

“You know,” Arnie said, rolling up the plans, “we’ll be needing a CEO.”

“I assumed that would be you.”

“We’d benefit from hiring someone with casino-management experience. Someone with a local, vested interest….” Arnie raised his eyebrows and glanced back toward the kitchen.

“Me?” Vince laughed. “I’m a Vegas boy, bright lights, big city, lots of action. Railroad Stop is…” Vince searched for the right word. It was sleepy and exciting, laid back and fast-paced, welcoming and annoying—the contrasts all provided by Jill and Teddy. But he couldn’t imagine living here year-round, owning a four-wheel drive that you actually needed, going without cell service and not wearing a shirt and tie to keep people at a distance.

“It never hurts to ask,” Arnie said when Vince couldn’t complete his sentence. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be staying or not. I’ll look for those contracts, but don’t be surprised if we don’t sign.”

So they’d counter-offer. That was normal. This feeling that Arnie was poaching on Vince’s turf was not. “You know, Arnie, Jill and I have been married a long time.”

“And yet you didn’t know she was the mayor.” Arnie tapped the rolled-up plans back against his palm. “I have a feeling that things are going to change around here.”

“Not everything.” Vince flexed his fingers on his coffee cup.

Arnie laughed. “Jill’s in over her head. And with you leaving…”

“Jill doesn’t like you,” Vince said coldly. “And the moment your casino begins to become a reality, she’ll hate your guts.”

“Jill’s going to need someone in Railroad Stop, someone who’s patient enough to outlast her tantrums and bad decisions, someone local who’s willing to take on a package deal.”

Vince would have bet serious money that Arnie’s ideal package consisted of Jill and Shady Oak, not Jill and Teddy. Vince struggled to keep his voice even. “She’s my
wife.
Stay away from her if you want this deal to go through.”

“Funny.” Arnie gave Vince a speculative look. “You haven’t warned me off because you love her.”

The problem was, Vince cared too much for Jill to let her fall in love with him.

Vince turned away before he threw a punch he wasn’t sure he’d regret. As Arnie left the porch, Vince drew his BlackBerry from his belt clip and typed out an e-mail to his grandfather and their lawyer with the project details. With the offer made, Vince could return home and leave the negotiations to someone else.

When Vince pressed the “send” button, he got the hourglass icon. No signal. Of course.

Vince considered running upstairs to use Jill’s landline, but Teddy was still there pouting. There was plenty of time later to send the message.

W
HILE
E
DDA
M
AE
finished her packing, Jill went into the dining hall with a tray to bus tables. She was surprised to see Arnie mingling with her guests, the word
casino
drifting to her ears as he munched on a piece of bacon.

“I think it would be fun to come up here and be able to gamble in the evenings. There’s only so much peace and quiet a guy can take.” It was Mr. I-Think-I’m-a-Blond-Stud doing the head bob with Arnie.

“Gambling is a great team-building exercise,” another guest piped in, too cheerful by far. “The team that loses together all shows up to work the next morning.”

Everyone had a hearty chuckle at that one.

“Can I help you?” Jill knew Arnie would recognize her smile to be one hundred percent phony. She wanted to pinch his ear and drag him out of the dining hall.

“Jill, may I have a moment?” Arnie made to take Jill’s arm, but she’d had years to learn men’s tricks, so she saw it coming and danced ahead of him toward the kitchen.

Jill waited for the door to swing closed behind Arnie, keeping the tray in front of her chest like a shield. “I’m not running a coffee shop. You can’t just drop in here and talk to my guests.”

Arnie held up his hands. “I’m sorry. A man gets pretty desperate when a deal is about to slip through his fingers.”

He was up to something, but Jill just wasn’t sure what.

“You’ve done a fantastic job out here, Jill. Our businesses could have complemented each other.”

Could have?
Jill looked out the pass-through to the dining-room windows, but the porch was empty. Vince wouldn’t have backed out, not when he wanted so badly to patch up his relationship with his grandfather.

Arnie smiled ruefully as he made his way out the door, leaving Jill to wonder if Vince had changed his mind. Had she convinced Vince to bail?

“A
ND SO ALL THE ANIMALS
copied each other and the hunters who came upon them were confused.” Edda Mae stood before the fireplace in the dining room. “Owls purring? Panthers hooting? Snakes squeaking? The hunters didn’t know which animals were friends and which to kill for food.”

Vince had come back to the kitchen after packing his few things. His job in Railroad Stop was done. He needed to hit the road. So why was he dragging his feet?

“This is the best part.” Teddy sidled next to Vince and slipped his small hand into Vince’s larger one, the morning’s drama forgotten.

This was why.
Teddy had carved a spot for himself in a corner of Vince’s heart, right next to Jill.

“So the hunters killed them all,” Edda Mae said. “Every one of those animals died because they were too scared to be who they really were. And that is the story of Animal Envy.”

The room was hushed for several seconds and then the audience broke out in applause. Edda Mae waved once before exiting through the back door.

Jill stood at the fireplace. Her hair was down, framing her face. She looked confident in her blue jeans and untucked polo shirt with the Shady Oak logo. “As you plan the rest of your day,” she said, “I hope you’ll have time to get some fresh air. There’s a trail that leads to a bluff with a fantastic view, a place considered by local Native American tribes to be holy ground. It takes about forty-five minutes to walk there. Later this morning I’ll be bringing you fresh coffee and coffee cake. Lunch is promptly at noon. Have a good meeting.” Jill turned the floor over to one of her guests, looking as if she was exactly where she wanted to be.

Vince drew a deep breath. He’d come to Railroad Stop hoping everything would fall easily into place. He’d known what he had to do and, more importantly, who he was supposed to be. He wasn’t sure about anything anymore.

“Where’s everybody gone?” he asked Jill. Teddy had disappeared, along with Edda Mae.

“Edda Mae’s going to drop Teddy off at school on her way to Fresno.”

Now would be the perfect time to tell Jill he was leaving, too.

Jill’s gaze bounced around the kitchen. “I need to say goodbye to Edda Mae and get started on the cottages.” But she didn’t leave and Vince said nothing.

And Vince did have something to say. He wanted to tell Jill that he was recommending his grandfather finance Arnie’s casino.

Instead, he found himself outside, struggling to find a way to say goodbye to Teddy that didn’t sound too sappy or too cold.

“You know we’re friends, right?” Vince hooked his fingers onto the lip of the open truck window where Teddy sat.
Friends.
Part of him wanted so much more than that. But what right did he have? He hadn’t given Teddy life, just his name. “I have to leave today.”

Chin thrust out, eyes straight ahead, Teddy nodded once.

“Here’s my number. You can call me anytime.” When Teddy didn’t take Vince’s business card, Vince laid it on the dashboard to the tune of Moonbeam’s rumbling growl. “Spiderman forever, dude.” Disregarding Moonbeam’s displeasure from her spot in the middle of the bench seat, Vince held out his fist, ready to bang it against Teddy’s, but Teddy’s hands remained clasped in his lap.

“You think about what I said the other night,” Edda Mae said, her gaze piercing.

After a curt nod from Vince, Edda Mae put the truck in gear. Vince watched them roll down the gravel driveway, perhaps imagining that Teddy’s eyes caught his in the side-view mirror, one flash of blue before the boy disappeared down the hill with Edda Mae.

The pressure was off. He should feel relieved. Arnie had handed him a perfect set of plans and a deal that could help people in Railroad Stop, including Jill, if she’d only see it. His grandfather would be pleased with the terms.

Jill would be crushed.

The click of the door to his left told him that Jill had gone inside, probably to check on her guests. He looked up at the sky, but it wasn’t the clear blue it had been the past two days. Instead, low gray clouds hung above the trees. He had no more reason to stay.

Vince entered the kitchen. “I need to tell you something.”

“You’re leaving,” Jill said calmly.

Maybe Jill saw in his eyes some of the panic and urgency he was feeling. Maybe she just thought he was talking too loud and her guests might hear him. Maybe she needed to hold his hand as much as he wanted to hold hers. Whatever the reason, Jill took Vince by the hand and led him outside. But she didn’t let go once the door closed behind them. She continued to tug him gently along and he followed as docile as a lap dog.

Jill stopped at a boulder on the trail they’d taken the other morning when he’d first kissed her. With both hands, Jill gently urged Vince to sit down and then pinned him with her bright blue gaze as she sat on a smaller rock at his feet. Vince opened his mouth to explain to Jill why he was leaving, but nothing came out.

“Why don’t you tell me how you got this?” Jill touched Vince’s right sleeve.

“It’s nothing.”

She shrugged. “If that’s the case, you won’t mind talking about it. You won’t mind showing—”

As Jill reached for his wrist, Vince jerked away. “No.”

“Edda Mae says Shady Oak is about finding the truth, forging a new path.”

“Save it for a bunch of credit-union managers,” Vince scoffed.

“Some people like to get away. Clear the air. Make some space. Figure things out without a lot of background noise.”

“I get the picture,
wife.
”

“I’m not sure you do,” she murmured.

They stared at each other. Vince imagined his expression was just as stubborn as hers.

Finally Jill’s face fell in disappointment. “This path leads to the top of the mountain. Sacred ground. Edda Mae says you can shout your anger at the world up there and only the gods will hear you. Take a walk past cabin number nine. You might find what you’re looking for, if you’re ready to face the truth.” With a shrug, Jill turned to go.

Vince raised a hand to stop Jill as she walked away, but she was out of reach and he had no truths to tell. And yet he couldn’t let Jill leave him. “Wait.”

She hesitated.

“The things you want to know about me, the things you deserve to know about your husband…they aren’t pretty.” And could turn Jill against him forever.

“If you’re concerned with appearing perfect, you don’t understand anything.”

“I understand how the world works and how others see me,” Vince whispered as he watched Jill walk away.

H
E’S NOT MY RESPONSIBILITY
.

If he wanted to jump at every loud noise, far be it from Jill to stand in his way. She just thought if he talked about it, he’d feel better. Vince was just too stubborn.

He’s not my responsibility.

Jill had cleaned rooms all morning, repeating the litany in her head. Now as she prepared a deli tray, sliced rolls and tossed a salad, as she slid a tray of brownies into the oven, she was still trying to convince herself. Vince wasn’t her husband, not in the ways that counted. They had nothing in common. He was scheming and self-centered.

But he’d helped her let go of the past, of the bitterness that Craig had marked her with. Oh, it wasn’t all gone. Jill was still jittery when men came too close or when Arnie acted like he could control her with sexual innuendo. But she’d kissed Vince, not once but twice.

And she wanted to kiss him again.

That wasn’t quite right. She wanted to take Vince up on the offer he’d made Saturday night. Who else would she be able to feel safe having almost-sex with? The more she thought about it, the more she trusted Vince to back down if she asked him to.

Why shouldn’t she use Vince when he’d tried to use her?

Because it wasn’t fair to either of them to get that close without knowing each other’s secrets. Sex was scary. Making love was…not so much. But she wasn’t in love with Vince. She was in love with her fantasy husband.

Jill overheard Spencer give instructions for the group to complete one more assignment and then break for lunch. She had no more time to daydream.

V
INCE WAS DOWN
to his last set of loafers. So why was he hiking up a mountain on a fool’s errand in fine Italian leather?

Clearly, he was a fool. His actions so far this morning kept pointing toward that fact.

He should be gone by now. Instead, he’d trudged around Jill’s property for an hour, until he’d had nothing left to do but throw his suitcase in the Porsche and leave. He’d even put the key in the ignition. But he couldn’t start the car. So he’d shed his jacket and taken a hike.

He continued up the steep slope, ignoring the increasing pressure on his lungs. Not that he was out of shape. He had to be approaching three thousand feet above sea level. This was no stroll, but he continued to climb because there was nothing else he could do.

Well, that wasn’t true. He could turn around, drive into Railroad Stop and send the details of the deal to his grandfather. He could gas up and point his Porsche back to Vegas. In nine or ten hours he could be home again. Or at least in the house that Jill’s parents had given them as a wedding gift.

But Jill wouldn’t be there. She’d be here battling it out with Arnie.

It shouldn’t matter. It wasn’t his problem. What should count was that Vince’s grandfather would welcome him back, hopefully with open arms and Vince could return to the business of running his grandfather’s casino, dining at fine restaurants every night and hanging out with Sam.

Well, maybe not hanging out with Sam. Since Sam had married Annie earlier in the year and adopted her daughter, Maddy, Sam had turned into a bit of a homebody. Although Vince had become fond of Sam’s family, he’d never understood the appeal of staying home until he’d met Teddy.

Part of knowing who you are is knowing what you want.
Edda Mae’s words returned. Vince did know what he wanted. He wanted it all—the job, the girl, the family. But that wasn’t in the cards for him. The fact remained, aside from his grandmother, Vince had let down everyone who’d ever cared for him. He’d never been good enough for his father to love. Sam pitied him. His grandfather didn’t trust him. Teddy thought he was a jerk. And Jill was scared of him physically.

Be honest.
Edda Mae was full of advice, but sometimes you had to lie to others to protect them.

The incline got steeper. The rocks became more like boulders, the trees farther apart. The sun broke through the clouds and beat down on Vince’s shoulders. A bird sang happily in the distance. And the path dwindled to more of a goat trail. Vince knew about goat trails because he hadn’t spent all his time in Iraq in Baghdad.

“This path leads to the top of the mountain,” Vince quipped irritably, affecting Jill’s casual tone. “I suppose she considers this a Sunday walk.”

Vince was scrambling over rocks nearly the size of his car. He stopped to loosen his tie. He hated ties, but they were an occupational hazard of wearing dress shirts. Instead of yanking an inch or two out of the Windsor knot, Vince slid the tie off and stuffed it into his pocket. The cuffs of his shirt were filthy. At the top of the next boulder he removed his cuff links and rolled up his sleeves.

Vince reached the summit. From here he looked out over the valley to the south where Railroad Stop had been built, although he could only make out one rooftop. The rest were hidden behind a forest of pines. And if he faced west, he could see the undulating terrain stretching out to the central valley of California, shrouded in the distance by a thin layer of brown smog. The views were grand, making Vince feel insignificant.

Self-respect. Friendship. Love. Who was he to want so much out of life?

His BlackBerry started coming alive at his hip. Apparently he’d climbed high enough to get a signal.

There was a flapping of wings as a bald eagle flew twenty feet above Vince.

E-mails came in. He checked his inbox. His grandfather’s response was short. “Contracts in process.” No congratulations. No “job well done.” Nothing Vince had done these past few months had won his grandfather’s approval. Nothing ever would.

Vince sat down on a rock overlooking the broad vista, determined to stay until he had answers to his questions. He stared out over the landscape. He felt the bumps of scarred skin beneath his shirtsleeve. He waited. And, of course, no answers came, so he sat and waited some more.

And discovered he didn’t like silence.

“Argh!” he shouted.

He had to face facts. His grandfather didn’t love him. Jill didn’t love him. Even Teddy didn’t love him. And the deal that had been almost a sure thing was most likely going to be a bust. Railroad Stop was a dead end.

And then a doe poked her head above the undergrowth to his left. She leaped onto the plateau with Vince, walking across it as if she had no fear of him. Her eyes were huge and trusting, the arch to her neck strong and graceful. For several minutes Vince watched her roam the summit.

A noise froze the doe in place. Laughter. Her ears swiveled as she tried to home in on it.

“Hide,” Vince urged. He didn’t want to share the deer with anyone else, and he suspected Jill had sent her clients to hike the
path.
“Hide,” he repeated when the deer still hadn’t moved.

Someone laughed again. The doe bounded past Vince down the west side of the mountaintop just as two of the credit-union managers reached the rise on the north side.

Vince tugged down his sleeves. “How did you get up here?” he asked. “I had to climb from the south.”

“Jill told us to look for the trailhead at the split tree,” the man explained, taking in Vince’s ruined clothes.

“Ah, she must have forgotten to explain that to me.”
Forgot, my eye.
Vince bid the newcomers farewell and headed back down the trail.

Edda Mae had been wrong. It didn’t matter who you were. You had to know what you wanted, accept what you could get and then hedge all your bets.

Vince stopped and sent an e-mail to his lawyer about that divorce Jill wanted.