Family Affair (5 page)

Seven

“H
ello, Jack,” Sarah said, recovering first. She didn’t look pleased. Lacey knew their relationship was strained and wished she could help, but she couldn’t think of a way to lessen the tension between them. Jack ignored Mark completely. But then Mark didn’t acknowledge him either.

“How are my two best girls?” Jack asked, disregarding Sarah’s cool welcome. He slid out a chair and sat down without waiting for an invitation.

“Feel free to join us,” Sarah muttered sarcastically.

“Hello, Jack,” Lacey said, her heart reacting in a happy way despite Sarah and Mark’s sour reception. She lowered her gaze abruptly when he focused his eyes on her. She didn’t have any reason to feel guilty, but she did—a little. It wasn’t like she was doing something behind his back.

“Lacey and I were just having a little chat,” Sarah said, after an awkward moment. “That’s what you want to know, isn’t it?”

“I didn’t ask, Sarah. What you and Lacey talk about is none of my business.” Jack ordered a cup of coffee and turned toward Lacey and Sarah, presenting Mark with a view of his back.

“If you must know, we discussed Mark and me,” Sarah said, far more defensively than necessary.

Jack sipped his coffee, giving no outward indication that the topic of conversation troubled him. “Let’s change the subject, shall we?”

“I bet you were hoping Lacey would talk some sense into me,” Sarah said stiffly. “Well, you’re wrong.”

Jack leveled his gaze on his sister, his look wide and disapproving.

“You don’t need to worry,” Sarah continued on the same touchy note. “Lacey has refused to talk to you on our behalf.”

“Mark asked her to?”

“Of course,” Sarah returned belligerently. “What else can he do since you flatly refuse to speak to him?”

“I don’t appreciate your dragging Lacey into this,” Jack said, not bothering to hide his disapproval.

“You don’t need to worry,” Sarah snapped back. “It won’t happen again.”

It upset Lacey to watch the two of them bicker, knowing how deeply they cared for each other. But she was helpless to do anything more than listen.

“How’s Cleo?” Jack looked at Lacey in a clear effort to find a more pleasant topic.

Lacey reached for her coffee. “Getting fat.”

“Good,” he said absently.

“How can you ignore Mark like this?” Sarah demanded. “You act as if he isn’t even here.”

Jack remained stubbornly silent for a moment before asking, “Have you ever asked Mark why I behave toward him the way I do?” He sipped his coffee. “It would be very interesting if he admitted the truth.”

“Let’s get out of here.” Mark stood abruptly and reached for Sarah’s hand. “We don’t need him, Sarah, we never have. Let’s just leave well enough alone.”

“But, Mark—” Sarah looked from her lover to her brother, her eyes bright with indecision.

“Are you coming or not?” Mark demanded irritably, dropping her hand.

“You could try talking to Jack,” Sarah suggested on a tentative note, sounding unsure and pitiful. Lacey’s heart went out to her.

“Do what you want.” Mark turned and started to walk away.

Sarah vacillated, torn with indecision, before sighing heavily. “Mark, wait,” she called, obediently trotting after him.

The silence that followed Sarah’s departure was heavy with tension. Jack’s face darkened with what appeared to be regret before he looked once more to Lacey. It seemed, for an awkward moment, that he had forgotten she was there.

“Jack,” she said softly, touching his hand.

“I’m sorry.” He shook his head as if to clear it. “I hope Sarah and Mark didn’t make pests of themselves.”

“Not in the least,” Lacey assured him. “She’s a delightful young woman, if a bit confused.” Although it wasn’t any of Lacey’s business, she wanted to know. “Why do you actively dislike Mark?”

“There are several reasons,” he said pointedly, “but you don’t need to worry about me and my sister. It’s not your affair.”

“I see,” she answered. She couldn’t help feeling hurt by his abrupt dismissal. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

Jack sighed. “I saw him with another girl soon after Sarah moved in with him. It was clear they were more than casual acquaintances, but when I mentioned it to Sarah she claimed I was lying in an effort to break them up. Naturally Mark denied everything. It’s like my beautiful, intelligent sister has been hypnotized. She can’t seem to see what’s right under her nose.”

“It’s probably the most difficult thing you can do, isn’t it?”

“What?” Jack wanted to know.

Lacey gently squeezed his hand. “Watch her make a mistake and know there’s no way to keep her from making it.”

Jack studied her for a long moment and nodded. “It’s hell. And the worst part is losing the closeness we once shared. I don’t know how she can be so blind.”

“Sarah can’t see what she doesn’t want to see.” It had been the same way with Lacey. The evidence was there, but she’d refused to notice what was apparent to everyone else.

When Lacey returned to the office, her head was filled with Jack and his sister. She wished there were some way she could help but knew it was impossible.

Mr. Sullivan was waiting for her, impatiently pacing the cramped quarters. As she stepped inside, he glanced pointedly at his watch.

“You’re late,” he announced.

“Five minutes,” she said calmly, sitting down at her desk. After all the times she’d come in early and stayed late, she certainly didn’t feel guilty for going five minutes over her lunch hour.

“Were you aware Mrs. Baxter was due this afternoon to go over wallpaper samples?” he asked, with thinly disguised irritation.

“Yes,” Lacey answered, not understanding why her employer was so flustered.

“Well, Mrs. Baxter was in town earlier than she anticipated and stopped in. You weren’t here.” Accusation rang in his voice as clear as church bells. “I was left to deal with her myself, and I don’t mind telling you, Lacey, that woman unnerves me. You should have been here.”

Lacey straightened in her chair, unwilling to accept his censure. “Mr. Sullivan,” she said evenly, refusing to allow him to badger her, “I’m entitled to my lunch hour.”

He pressed his lips together and walked over to his own desk. “You’re the wallpaper expert,” he returned flippantly.

“I am?” If he felt that way, he should pay her accordingly. There would never be a better time to point this out.

“Of course you are,” he snapped. “Whenever customers are interested in wallpaper I refer them to you.”

“How nice,” Lacey said.

He was making this almost easy for her. To her surprise, she wasn’t the least bit nervous.

“How long have I worked for you now, Mr. Sullivan?”

“Ah . . .” He picked up a pencil and figured some numbers on a pad as if her question required several algebraic calculations. “It must be a year or more.”

“Exactly a year. Do you recall that when you hired me we made an agreement?”

“Yes, of course.” He stiffened as if he knew what was coming.

“There was to be a salary evaluation after six months and another at one year. The months have slipped by, and I’ve taken on a good deal of the responsibility of running the business for you, and now you tell me I’m your wallpaper expert! I can assure you no
expert
makes the low wages I do. I believe, Mr. Sullivan, that you owe me a substantial raise, possibly two.” Having said all this in one giant breath, she was winded when she finished.

She’d done it! After all the weeks of moaning and groaning, of complaining and berating herself, she’d actually asked for the raise she deserved. It hadn’t even been hard! She watched her employer and waited for his response.

“I owe you a raise?” Mr. Sullivan sounded shocked, as if the thought had never occurred to him. “I’ll have to check my records. You might very well be right. I’ll look into it and get back to you first thing in the morning.” Having said that, Mr. Sullivan promptly disappeared—something he was doing more frequently of late, leaving her with the burden of dealing with everything herself.

Lacey felt as though a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. It was as if whatever had bound her had fallen away.

The first person she sought out that afternoon was Jack. She went directly from the elevator to his apartment, knocking several times, eager to share her news. To her disappointment, he wasn’t home. She realized how important he’d become to her. It was as if none of this were real until she’d shared it with her neighbor.

Letting herself inside her own apartment, she promptly greeted Cleo and then reached for the phone. Jeanne answered on the second ring.

“I asked Mr. Sullivan for a raise,” she said without so much as a hello. “Jeanne, I’m so happy, I could cry. It just happened. He made some offhand comment about me being his wallpaper expert, and I said if that was the case I should be properly compensated.”

“That’s great, and about time too, girl. Congratulations!”

Lacey knew Jeanne would be pleased for her, if for nothing more than garnering the courage to ask.

“I owe you so much,” Lacey said, the emotion bubbling in her voice. “I really do. Not long ago you claimed if I wanted to be a victim, you couldn’t help me, and I realized you were right. And Jack too, he’s been—” She stopped, thinking how much Jack had helped her. Not in the same way as Jeanne, but by his own gentle understanding, he’d encouraged her and helped her to find herself. She understood for the first time how confronting Mr. Sullivan was tied in with her divorce. She’d come out of her marriage emotionally crippled, carrying a load of grief and insecurity that had burdened her whole life.

“You haven’t mentioned Jack much lately,” Jeanne commented. “How’s it going with you two?”

“I haven’t talked about Jack?” Lacey hedged. “It’s going fine, just fine.”

“
Fine
suggests it’s going great.”

Cleo wove her way around Lacey’s feet, demanding attention. With the tip of her shoe, Lacey booted the catnip toy as a distraction. Cleo raced after it.

“Now,” Jeanne said, heaving a giant breath, “tell me how much of a raise Mr. Sullivan’s giving you.”

“He didn’t say . . . exactly. All he said was that he was going to think about it overnight.”

“Don’t let him weasel out of it,” Jeanne warned.

“Don’t worry,” Lacey said. “He wouldn’t dare.” At the moment she felt invincible, capable of dealing with anything or anyone.

As soon as she was off the phone, Lacey gave Cleo the attention she demanded. “How are you doing, girl?” Lacey asked. “I bet you’re anxious to have those kittens.” She stroked her back and Cleo purred contentedly. “Jack and I will find good homes for your babies,” Lacey assured her. “You don’t have a thing to worry about.”

Jack didn’t get home until after six. The minute she heard movement on the other side of her kitchen wall, she hurried over to his apartment. She tapped out a staccato knock against his door and was cheered to hear him humming on the other side.

“Who is it?” he called out.

“Lacey.”

The door flew open. The minute he appeared, she vaulted into his arms, spreading kisses over his face. He blinked as if he wasn’t sure what was happening.

“Lacey?” His eyes were wide with surprise and delight. “What was that for?”

“A thank-you.” She wove her arms around his neck and kissed him again. “I’m so happy.”

“My guess is something happened after we met at lunch.”

She rewarded his genius, taking more time, savoring the kiss. With every beat of her heart, she thanked God for sending Jack into her lonely, bleak life.

“I’m almost afraid to ask what this is all about. Whatever it is, don’t let me stop you.” He closed the door with his foot and carried her into the living room.

She hugged him tight. His shirt was unfastened. Either he was dressing or undressing, she couldn’t tell which. Her trembling body moved against his.

“Are you going to tell me what we’re celebrating?” he asked her breathlessly.

“A raise,” she said. “And long overdue. You see, I had to ask for it, and doing that was a growing experience for me.” She paused to rub her nose against his. “I realize this probably sounds silly, but I couldn’t make myself ask, and it got to be this really big thing, like a monster, and then I was terrified.”

“But you did it?”

“Yes. I owe it all to you—and to my friend Jeanne. Knowing you has helped me so much, Jack. You’ve given me my confidence back. I’m not sure how you managed it, but since we’ve been . . . neighborly, it seems everything’s turned around for me.”

“I couldn’t be more pleased, and naturally I’ll accept the credit,” he said warmly.

“Mr. Sullivan’s going to think about it overnight, but you see this isn’t about the money. It’s about me.”

“You certainly didn’t have any problem confronting me when Dog stole Cleo’s virginity. As I recall you were ready with a tidy list of demands.”

“That was different. I wasn’t the one affected, it was Cleo. I didn’t have the least bit of trouble sticking up for my cat.”