Charmed (Contemporary Romance) (10 page)

“For me? Have you lost your mind?”

“Try it on!” Isabella pushed Jamie toward the dress.

“Are you all nuts? Where in the world would I wear it? To pick up the kids? Field hockey practice, maybe? Oh, the grocery store, that’s where — ”

“Pleeeease, Aunt Jamie, try it on,” Hannah pleaded.

“You know you want to,” Isabella taunted.

Jamie shrugged. Okay, so her mother was right, she really did want to try it on. She took the dress and followed Liz into the dressing room, knowing she rarely liked a dress exactly the way it was. As much fun as she and her mom always had sewing together when she was younger, she’d also driven her mother crazy, always wanting the sleeve of one dress, the skirt of another, and the bodice of a third. She would find something wrong with the dress once she tried it on.

But a couple of minutes later, as she stood in front of the dressing room mirror and stared at herself, she decided she wouldn’t change one detail of the dress. She turned around a few times, knowing exactly how Liz had felt moments before. It had been a really long time since Jamie had felt pretty. The strapless dress did wonders for her neck and shoulders, made her curves seem softer, and her almost nonexistent cleavage appear full. It was a miracle dress sent from the gods to mock her.

“Wow — Aunt Jamie!” Hannah’s eyes were wide. Jamie frowned.

“What’s wrong, Jamie?” Liz came up behind her and put her chin on Jamie’s bare shoulder.

Jamie shook her head and smiled. “Nothing. I just miss having something to dress up for.”

“You can wear it to the hospital’s fundraising ball! Justin and I would love it if you come with us. You can dress up and enjoy a night out with adults.”

“Thanks, Liz, but I’d only feel like a third wheel, and I wouldn’t know anyone there.”

“Do you know how many single doctors and male nurses go to that? You’ll have men falling over themselves to dance with you, I’m sure of it.”

“No way, Liz, seriously. That’s what most women always hope will happen, and it never does.”

“Aunt Jamie, you look
hot
— you will
so
get asked to dance.” A hopeful smile played on Hannah’s lips.

Jamie shook her head at Hannah’s middle-school take on things. “No, really.” She went back into the dressing room, and changed back into the real Jamie.

But when she came back out, her mother was watching her with such a sad expression on her face that Jamie’s heart ached. “Jamie, we all want to help you out more, but you just won’t ask. Your father and I would be so thrilled to have the kids just to ourselves for a night! And we would all love to see you look like the princess you are for an evening.”

Hannah held the dress up, a hopeful look on her face. Jamie took a deep breath. She’d tolerate the evening for Liz, Justin, and her parents. Until that moment, she hadn’t been aware they were that worried about her.

“Fine, I’ll buy the dress. I’ll go,” Jamie said, however unconvincingly. Hannah squealed and handed her the dress.

“Okay, so, what do we do now?” Hannah asked.

“We embarrass you by breaking into ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’ as we tear through the mall looking for shoes,” Jamie replied.

“I’d actually like to see that — go ahead,” Hannah challenged her.

“
Or
we can have dinner at the Terrace upstairs,” Isabella suggested. “I’m starving.”

A short while later, Hannah and Isabella were making their way through the salad bar, and Liz and Jamie were seated in front of their dinner, when Jamie spotted Celine walking out of the restaurant. Celine acknowledged Liz with a slight nod.

“Do you know her?” Jamie turned to Liz.

“Know who?”

“The woman you just waved to — Celine Bliss.”

“Kind of. Her ex-husband is on the hospital’s board of directors. They just got divorced this past summer, so I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“Is she … bitchy?” Jamie asked, taking a bite of her food.

Liz leaned in, conspiratorially, and Jamie got ready for what she thought would be some information. Instead, Liz lowered her voice and said, “No one uses ‘bitch’ anymore, it’s ‘beeotch’ now.”

“Really? Beotch?” Jamie tried it out. It didn’t sound right to her. “How do you spell it?”

“How am I supposed to know? I just hear the teenagers in the waiting room say it. And it’s beeeotch,” Liz enunciated. “You kind of have to elongate the eee sound.”

“Beeeotch,” Jamie tried. “It still doesn’t sound right, and anyway, you haven’t answered my question.”

“Celine is a total beeeotch. She has major entitlement issues.”

Jamie laughed and then quickly sobered. “You know, I saw her with Nick that time I ran into him downtown, and there are a few rumors about them. I wonder if there’s anything going on between them.” Jamie looked down at her food and began picking at it, feeling funny. She remembered Nick saying kids could throw your world out of whack, but he hadn’t really said anything against relationships.

It occurred to her that the funny sensation in her stomach was jealousy.

“Are you okay?” Liz asked, just when Isabella and Hannah joined them.

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.” Isabella studied her. “Maybe you’re coming down with something.”

“She was asking about Nick Grey and this woman I know before she got that sick look,” Liz said knowingly.

“That’s not true. Why would you tell them that, Liz?”

“Because Timmy and Michael happily informed Justin that Nick spent last Saturday at your house. We’ve been waiting for you to say something, but you haven’t. And now you act all funny when you mention him. What’s going on, Jamie? We thought you didn’t even like him. You know you can tell us anything.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t mention it, but it was nothing. He offered to put the kids’ swing set up because I helped him out when he had car trouble. And though he did come off as a jerk the first time we met, he’s not that bad.”

“Jamie.” Isabella put down her fork. “I can’t take this. You used to tell me everything. Do you have feelings for Nicholas Grey or not?”

Jamie sighed. “No, I don’t have
feelings
for him. I’m just having a pubescent reaction to him. That’s all, I promise.”

“A wha — ?” Hannah paused with her fork halfway to her mouth.

“A crush, Hannah. Your Aunt Jamie has a crush on Nick Grey.”

“So I was right that time?” Hannah asked, all smug.

“No. I wouldn’t label it a crush. Apparently, my chemistry likes the way his chemistry smells. That’s all it is. I looked it up. It’s complicated, yet pretty simple at the same time.”

Liz laughed. “Enlighten us, Jamie. And listen up, Hannah, ’cause your Aunt Jamie, of all people, is going to give us a science lesson.”

“Fine. Jot this down, Hannah. Chemistry 101. It all starts with these hormones called pheromones that are triggered by another person’s scent. The pheromones get together with other hormones and they all start working together, sending signals, triggering reactions, and causing all sorts of havoc,” Jamie explained, quite impressed with herself.

“Describe the havoc in
detail
,” Isabella requested.

“Well, according to the article, your blood heats up and sweeps through your bloodstream, straight to your brain where it burns oxygen. Liz is the pediatrician — she can explain it better than I can.”

“It’s what turns your knees to jelly and brain to mush.”

“Sounds like a crush to me.” Hannah giggled.

“You know, I do remember the havoc. So involuntary, too, just sweeping through you, like you say, making you feel like you’re about to melt,” Isabella sighed happily.

“Well, I agree the key word here is involuntary. Now, what’re you going to do when you see Nick at school, surrounded by teachers, parents, and
your children
— and those pesky pheromones decide to kick in? All that havoc might be a little bit of an inconvenience when you’re holding your kids’ hands and carrying backpacks and lunchboxes,” Liz said.

“I’ll just avoid him. He’s leaving in two months. It shouldn’t be hard to avoid him for two months.”

“Or you can just enjoy crushing on him. A crush can be fun — you need some fun, Aunt Jamie.”

“If only I were twelve … ” Jamie mussed Hannah’s hair.

“No! Hannah’s right. Have fun with it,” Isabella agreed. “You have so many responsibilities,
mamita
. You’re always saying the kids need this, the house needs that, this client this, that client that. Maybe you need the perspective of a twelve-year-old for this. Enjoy these harmless feelings — you’re not just a mother and businessperson, you know. You’re also a woman.”

Jamie considered her mother’s words and was surprised to discover she hadn’t thought of herself as womanly in a long time.

“Like you said, Jamie, he’s leaving for a whole year in two months. What’s the harm of enjoying a little havoc for such a short while? The havoc can be a lot of fun … ” Liz’s eyes glittered.

Jamie smiled. It
was
fun, she admitted, and a younger perspective
did
lighten the load. “I guess it’s not like I have much of a choice. I mean, have you seen him? I swear some of the moms who hang around him look like they’re about to drool. I’m sure I won’t be the only one daydreaming about those eyes and those arms. And there are no emotional hassles in daydreams,” Jamie added, turning just in time to see her mother and Liz exchange a somber look; a look Jamie decided to ignore.

Jamie was well acquainted with emotional hassles. But lately, she was making her way back to a place where she could be an older, wiser version of someone she’d liked being. Enjoying Nick’s presence and smiles would satiate the starved female in her.

She was now looking forward to him coming by to pick up his tools. If he even remembered, that was.

Nick was thoughtful as he made his way home from a hockey meeting Saturday night. The different teams that played against each other were now serious about starting an official league, and he would’ve loved to be a part of the process. After all, he and Justin had started the first two teams, years ago. But he was leaving in a couple of months, and it wouldn’t make sense for him to start something he couldn’t finish. He rounded a bend, and Jamie’s house came into view.

He decided to stop by for just a moment, stay at the door, pick up his tools, and leave. It was nine, and the kids were probably asleep, so he parked at the end of her driveway instead of pulling all the way up.

As he made his way up to her door, he could see she was in the kitchen, pouring some batter into a bowl. He was about to knock, but stopped short when he saw her pour what he was sure was Bailey’s Irish Cream into the bowl, too. He knocked.

“Nick?” Jamie seemed surprised to see him when she opened the door a minute later. Her hair was pulled back, she wasn’t wearing any makeup, and he was caught by her fresh face and pretty smile. It was mid-October, and the night air was cool. She wrapped her arms around her chest and said, “Um, come in.”

“I just stopped by to pick up my tools and see how you were.” He peered into her face. “Last time I saw you, you were looking a little pale.”

“Oh. Well, your tools are right over there.” She pointed to a corner in the family room and rushed back into the kitchen. “Sorry, I’m making pancakes. And if you’re talking about Friday afternoon’s little scene with Timmy, I’m fine now. You handled that very well.”

“Good. And are you aware that it’s not breakfast time?”

“It’s comfort food. I get in the mood for it once in a while.”

“And you put alcohol into your comfort food?”

“I like a shot of comfort liquor on the side.”

“Jamie, I saw you pour it
into
the bowl — which reminds me, you should close the drapes at night.”

“I’m up on a hill, and you can’t see inside unless you’re
sneaking
up the driveway.” She looked at him pointedly.

“I wasn’t sneaking up the driveway, I just didn’t want to wake the kids, and you should close them anyway.” Nick looked out the window, the thought of some weirdo watching her bothering him. “Seriously, Jamie, you should close them. You never know who could be hiding behind those pine trees out front.”

Nick walked back over to her door and studied the locks. Three of them, he nodded in approval. He then walked over to the windows and made sure they were all locked before closing the drapes. A picture of Scott Sullivan on an end table made him stop for a moment — it seemed like Scott was glaring at him.
Hey, you should thank me, I’m just keeping your wife and kids safe, and I’m leaving now,
Nick silently defended himself.

Jamie watched him, her dark eyes sparkling. “Are you about done now?”

“Yes, I’ll leave you and your intriguing spiked pancakes to yourselves in a moment.” Looking around one more time, he saw a picture of Justin on the buffet table. It was easy to forget Jamie was Justin’s sister. He waited for her to turn around before picking the picture up and placing it face down, not wanting Justin’s ugly face staring at him in disapproval.

“You know, if you want some pancakes, all you have to do is ask,” she called from the kitchen just as he picked up his tools.

“That sounds like an invitation.”

“It sounds like you were fishing for one. But you’ve got to help. Get me another plate. They’re above the sink, second cabinet to the left.”

“Yes, ma’am.” It wasn’t like anybody was waiting for him at home. Evenings had been especially boring since Emma had gone off to college. Nick strode over to the kitchen and handed her the second plate. She flipped the second pancake, waited a bit, flipped it again, and then slipped it onto a plate.

Nick reached around her to pick up both plates, just as she turned around, and he thought she leaned in to him a little and breathed in, but her motions were so quick and fluid as she went under his arm to lead them to the small breakfast bar, that he thought he must’ve imagined it.

They sat down and Nick took a bite, smiling in appreciation. “You may be on to something here. You should sell the recipe to a few local bars.”