Big Bad Wolf (19 page)

Unexpected amusement rose in him.
The woman could run circles around him and tie him in knots with the speed she changed subjects.
Part of the reason why he was so attracted to her was precisely the way she could delve into things without asking questions.
By changing topics and circling around, she always managed to get what she wanted.
A true businesswoman, he grudgingly admitted, and a worthy evasive expert, even if she didn’t know it.
Curious about this secret of hers, and wanting to know all he could about her, he didn’t say anything any more, following her deeper into the woods.

“We’re now on the neighboring property,” Jaymee told him, about twenty minutes later.
“It isn’t as big as my dad’s and it’s pretty overgrown.
Once we get out of these woods, you still won’t see much because of the huge bushes and tall weeds.”

Pine trees and sabal palms rustled in the wind as they made their way.
“Did you run back home to meet me from here the other day?” Nick asked, recalling how she was out of breath.

“Yes.
It’s usually an easy jog when it’s dry, and the shade keeps out the heat.”
She pointed ahead.
“There it is.”

‘It’ was a two-storied weather-beaten ranch house sitting forlornly on a neglected lot.
Overgrown bushes grew over cracked cement paths and long branches criss-crossed too closely to the house.
It was obviously in need of work, judging from the peeling paint, rotten overhangs, to the dirty, cracked window
panes.
Nick tested his weight on each of the front wooden steps before walking onto the porch.

“Don’t worry, the wood is fine there,” assured Jaymee.
“It’s rotten in the back porch, though.”

Taking out a key from her pocket, she opened the surprisingly large door.
Once inside, Nick noticed the house had been swept and cleaned out.
It was in various stages of remodeling.
The carpet had been stripped from the floor, revealing old terraso tiles.
Tools were scattered all over, as well as cleaners and polish.

“What do you think?” she asked, standing in the middle of the mayhem.

He looked around, dumbfounded.
“This is your other job?”
Would the woman ever cease to surprise him?

“Uh-huh.
I’m working on the floor now.
They carpeted over these tiles, can you believe it?
It’s in pretty good shape, so I’m going to clean it up.
Then I’m going to take out the old trim and replace it with something fancy.”
She kicked at the connecting doors between the rooms.
“The doors are next, although I kind of like them.
They are the old heavy oak, not the cheap hollow junk they sell at the House Depot these days.”

Jaymee knew she was babbling, but she couldn’t help it.
This had been her secret for such a long time, and now she had someone with her, she wanted to show off.
She was very proud of all her work, even though she still had a long way to go.

The glow of pride radiating from her did funny things to Nick’s insides.
“Do you plan to live here?” he asked, wondering why that would be a secret.

“No, of course not.”

“You said it had something to do with your future.”

“Remind me not to talk to you when I’m about to fall asleep, OK?” she said crossly, and sat down on a small stool.

Nick grinned crookedly.
“That’s the only time, it seems, you can be cajoled to answer my questions.
Either that, or it’s because you liked what I did to you before.”
He loved making her blush, still couldn’t get over such shyness at her age.
Joining her on the floor, he stretched out his long legs, leaning against the wall.
“OK.
I see a big house in need of major work.
I know you work here in the evenings.
You don’t plan to live in it, so being the businesswoman I know you are, I assume you’re going to sell it and make some kind of profit.”
He blinked, suddenly understanding.
“Money for that debt about which I keep hearing?
Money for your future?”

Jaymee unwrapped a stick of gum and popped it into her mouth, studying him thoughtfully as she chewed.
“A detective, right?
It’s Nick Sherlock Holmes Langley, isn’t it?”

He shook his head and didn’t offer any clue.
Instead, he took one of her hands and laced his fingers through hers.
Bringing it to his mouth, he kissed her knuckles one by one.
Feeling her heart beating faster again, she told him, “Oh no, you don’t.
Don’t even try distracting me.”

“Why do you work so hard, Jaymee?”
His breath was warm against her skin.
“Tell me about the debt. How much do you owe, and why?”

Jaymee stared at their intertwined hands.
He didn’t know how hard those questions were to answer.
They would bring back painful memories.
She was afraid of the usual accompanying pain and loneliness.

His grip tightened.
“Trust me,” he said.

She jerked away sharply.
“Don’t say that! He said
it
too.
Those were his exact words that got me here.”

God, it had started, the awful torrent of memories pushed into her consciousness, and as always, she felt helpless against the onslaught of those hateful emotions—shame, guilt, hopelessness.

But Nick just prodded on, wanting to know everything.
“Who?
Your old boyfriend, Danny?”
When she refused to answer, he pulled at the hand he held until she reluctantly fell into his lap.
He held her close and although he was gentle, the tone of his voice was that of someone who was used to giving orders.
“You’d better not even try to compare me with that guy.
Do you think about him when I kiss you?
When I make love to you?”
The thought
made him angry as hell.

Jaymee was startled at the notion.
“Of course not!
I haven’t thought of Danny like that in years.”

That calmed him down a little.
“But he’s still playing you like a puppet, isn’t he?”

“What do you mean?”
It was difficult to concentrate when he was so close.
She breathed in his scent and she wanted to kiss him again.

“Jaymee, baby, much as it pleases me you haven’t had another lover after that scumbag, it also tells me why you’ve been rejecting men for so many years.”
Her head jerked back and he calmly met her glare.
“Danny was a huge mistake.
Not only did he betray your trust, but he also used you and stole more than money.
And worse, you had no one to turn to, what with your father blaming you and losing your mother.
You’re afraid of being hurt again, so you hide behind your work.
You continue letting your father bully you...”

“Stop right there,” she cut in.
She poked a finger at his chest.
“You have no right to judge me.
You don’t know anything about me.”

She jumped off his lap and walked to look out of a dingy window.
Staring unseeing at the dirt streaks across the panes, she took a deep breath, then exhaled.
She needed to gather her scattered thoughts, if she were to tell him about Danny.
She wanted to tell a clear story, to explain why she was the way she was.
It dawned on her she needed to face her past, not run from it all every time it’s mentioned.
Why not now, when she stood there in the place that represented a new life to her, with the man who already dominated her thoughts more than any past love?

“Have you ever seen a path so strewn with flowers, so lit up by stars, that made you so sure you couldn’t possibly get lost on it, because it could only lead to paradise?”

The words tumbled out haltingly, and her voice sounded far away, cool and flat, at war with the beautiful image she evoked.
Nick wanted to walk to her, but found himself caught by the need to hear more.
He knew without a doubt this very private woman had decided to show him herself at her most vulnerable, and he felt humbled by her trust.
She didn’t know it, of course, but she was essentially giving the Programmer the switch to her operating system.
He could stop her because he didn’t like her vulnerable to him, but he kept quiet.
He would deal with the guilt later.
The need to understand her overtook everything else.

“I guess I was a hopeless romantic,” Jaymee continued, in the same faraway voice.
“I was so sure of myself back then, and Danny was...”
Her shoulders slumped.
“...well, Danny turned out to be a snake in my paradise.
We met at college, and Mom and Dad were captivated by him.
He was suave, handsome, smart, and talked passionately about making it big.
Dad sang his praises to me, and I didn’t need much encouragement.
He was Mr. Perfect, you know?
I was a roofer’s daughter and had no idea about life.

“My dad loved talking to him.
Danny had such great plans, telling my dad he could expand his business if he’d only invest in roofing materials, keep them in a rented warehouse, and stock the roofs himself.
Labor didn’t make enough profit, he said, but materials, now that’s where big money could be made.
He drew plans and showed Dad five-year projections of how much his company could grow, even bigger than Gregg’s Roofing, the biggest company in town.”

Jaymee stopped, unable to go on.
The hard part was next.
She was a different person now—tougher, stronger, wiser—yet she felt like some creature that lived in a shell about to be exposed to danger.
Suddenly, she felt Nick’s presence behind her, his warmth comforting and reassuring.
His hands were gentle on her shoulders, massaging the tense muscles.

“Continue,” he encouraged.
“Were his calculations wrong?”

Jaymee laughed bitterly.
“Oh no, that wasn’t it.
I backed up his projections, showing my dad all the calculations from my business classes.”
She blinked hard several times.
“See, Dad, I had proudly said, Danny was right.
Most large companies made their money from materials because they could buy wholesale and sell at retail.
Blahblahblahblah.
Macro economics.
Business theories.
My dad loved it.
Meanwhile, Danny and I got engaged and the plan grew out of sight.
Dad was suddenly seeing himself bigger than Gregg’s, no longer working in the sun, just living off the company run by his son-in-law.”

She leaned back, her head against his chest.
Nick’s arms crossed in front of her, holding her securely.
She listened to the steady thud of his heartbeat.
It felt like home.
“Dad gave Danny down payment for shingles and to set up the warehouse.
Then Danny suggested buying a highlift so we could stock the roofs.”
A soft sigh escaped her.
“Dad borrowed heavily against the business and the new house he’d just built for Mom.”

Nick had seen enough greed and evil in his profession to know the conclusion of this tale was the kind that destroyed lives.
“He gave cash to Danny,” he said grimly.

It never failed to hurt.
No matter how many years had gone by, the pain would still be there, waiting.
Jaymee choked down a lump in her throat.
“Yes.”

“No materials.
No highlift.”
Nick felt her pain, understood how difficult it was for her to face that kind of failure.
He could only imagine the young woman she had been when she lost everything—her love, her security, her pride.

“Yes,” she repeated.
She tried to move out of the circle of his arms, but he wouldn’t let her.
After a brief struggle, she gave up and let his warm embrace seep through the cold mantle that always settled on her whenever she thought about Danny and what he did.
“He...didn’t come back from out of town.
Never answered my calls.
Dad had a stroke not long after.
Mom...well, Mom had always been weak, and the idea of losing her house....She loved her house.
It was her everything, sitting in that back porch and watching the sun set.
Dad blamed me for her death.
The drinking started then.”

“This is the same house you live in now?”
Nick wanted to kill the long-gone Danny for the havoc he’d wrought on Jaymee and her family.

Jaymee clenched her hands into fists.
“Mom had insurance and...do you know why Dad hates me?
She willed it to me, and instead of using the money to pay off his company’s debts, I paid off the house instead, so Mom will always have it.
Does it make sense?
She can sit on that porch in spirit, as long as she wants to.”