Girl of Mine (3 page)

“No. I can’t,” Jill said again, unable to put together a complete sentence. She needed some alone time before seeing Luke again, time to pull herself together.

“Life can be filled with regret. Don’t make this one of those moments.”

“I can’t see him right now, Mom. I can’t face him yet.” Her limbs still tingled from shock. She’d probably take one look at him and fall into a dead faint. How embarrassing.

“His time is limited, Jill. He only has four days.”

“Later. I’ll see him later.”
Much, much later.
When she’d come to terms with seeing him again.

Her mother seemed disappointed, but accepted her decision.

“Please, Mom, I . . .”

Linda Barrett sensed her daughter’s despair. “I know, sweetheart, and I do understand. I’ll tell him.”

Forever thankful for her mama bear of a mother, Jill collapsed onto the bed, knowing Lucas Graham would absolutely not be allowed into her inner sanctum.

Perhaps she was being childish in refusing to see him, but she wasn’t sure her heart could survive it. The thought that he might want to restart their relationship already lingered in her mind. One visit from Lucas Graham and she instantaneously saw them back together again.

Pathetic.

Besides, how could she face him when she was engaged to another man?

It was ten minutes later when Jill heard the defeated rumble of Luke’s truck as he left. It made her wonder what they’d talked about for those ten minutes.

“You okay?” her mom asked as she peeked her head into the room.

Jill nodded. They both knew she wasn’t okay. Sometimes pretending everything was fine and dandy was so much easier than being sad. The wrinkle between her mother’s eyebrows told her how worried she was about her and she felt bad for causing her so much anxiety. It was time to pick up the pieces of her life and return to her own apartment. It was still stacked with all the paraphernalia needed to prepare for a wedding and Jill hadn’t wanted to face it. Hiding out at her mom’s house, living in the guestroom, had given her permission to cry like a baby and act like a child. Knowing her mother was always there to ground her when her emotions swung out of control had been a huge comfort.

Now it was time to be an adult again. But she couldn’t succeed if baby steps were all she allowed herself to take. Her life had turned into a game of “Mother, May I?” Only it had nothing to do with asking her mother for permission. It had to do with progress. It was time for giant steps. Going back to work had been the first giant step. Now it was time to face her abandoned apartment—that ought to account for four huge giant steps at least. It would definitely be a step in the right direction.

But Luke had the power to send her back to the starting line. And she wasn’t going back.

Feeling somewhat bemused, Jill tried to regain some semblance of normalcy for the day. She walked on the treadmill, ate breakfast, showered, paid a few bills, and dressed for work. Although an elephant now resided in the living room, she didn’t mention Luke’s visit and neither did her mother.

Even though she had sixteen missed calls from Luke.

Every time her cell chimed through the house, her mother’s eyebrows flew halfway up her forehead and she shot Jill an expectant look.

Jill couldn’t bring herself to answer and promptly placed her phone on silent and buried the annoying device under a couch pillow. Then she stared out the living room window for an hour, lost in thought, feeling as though acid was burning a hole in her stomach.
Why are you back, Luke? What do you want from me?
She wanted to see him so much, people on the street began to resemble him. Like something out of a
Twilight Zone
episode, every face suddenly boasted Lucas Graham’s handsome mug. Jill shook her head, moved away from the window, and flipped on the TV in an attempt to distract herself. She was losing it. Their postman wasn’t Luke. Nor was the UPS man. And the teenage boy on a skateboard wearing baggy jeans definitely wasn’t Luke. As for the elderly man walking his dog, he was much too old to be Luke.

When Luke appeared on the TV trying to sell her detergent that would make her dishes sparkle, she gave up and flicked the TV off. His face was haunting her.

However, as she drove to work through the downtown streets of Dallas, she spotted Luke’s truck in her rearview mirror—directly behind her. Unless she was hallucinating, he sat in the driver’s seat and was tailing her. What in the world did he think he was doing?

Jill glanced at the driver next to her. It was a total stranger. Only the one behind her looked like Luke. It was really him. At least she wasn’t seeing things.

He couldn’t follow her into the private parking garage, but as she made her way to the elevator, she saw him lurking outside the gate, watching her.

“Jill!” she heard him say. Her heart stopped in her chest at the sound.

“I’m late for work,” Jill yelled and hurried inside, never giving Luke a chance to speak. Quickly, she changed into her chef uniform. First rule of the kitchen: chefs do not travel to and from work in their chef coat. Culinary school had drilled that much into her.

By then her hands were visibly shaking, not exactly ideal conditions for wielding a razor sharp chef’s knife. Somehow she made it through the afternoon, in spite of ruining nearly everything she touched.

“Jill, keep it together, will ya?” the head chef hollered. “You’re off your game tonight.”

“Yes, Chef.”

TV viewers thought
Hell’s Kitchen
was dramatized. It wasn’t. Eric, the head chef, one-upped Mr. Ramsay on every level. The man didn’t know how to speak quietly. He spent his life yelling. Sometimes Jill pictured him hugging his wife while shouting, “I LOVE YOU.”

Kitchen work tended to be an abrasive culture, but in real life no one cared and didn’t take it personally. Everyone just wanted to get the job done as quickly and efficiently as possible.

“Jill, no
knives
in the sink.
Hands
go in the sink!” Eric hollered again. It was one of his pet peeves.

“Yes, Chef.” She knew better. Her mind was elsewhere tonight.

Jill had worked the
garde manger
station for two years now. Normally it was considered an entry level position in a kitchen. But she enjoyed the station so much, she’d never moved on. It took two to man the station, but on her shift Jill took it over and it was her territory and hers alone. No assistant needed.
Chateau
was a five-star restaurant, pricey and elegant. Telling people she was the
garde manger
chef did not sound impressive. After all, she was in charge of the appetizers and the salads. Nothing special, right?

Wrong. Unlike many
garde manger
positions, she spent her time at
Chateau
preparing classical dishes. Her favorite was charcuterie, making such things with ground meat as guinea hen pâté with raisin marmalade or various terrines. Terrines were similar to pâtés
,
but the ingredients were much more coarsely chopped than in a traditional pâté.

Each night it was her job to come up with something amazing to offer as the amuse-bouche for the evening’s service. Everything in the kitchen was made from scratch, right down to the salad dressings. If Jill made a pâté that went well with crackers, she made the crackers. She didn’t put together simple salads, she created amazing dishes like a braised endive salad which included endives featured three different ways, raw, braised, and poached. She made lemon confit as a garnish for other foods; she made butternut pate au choux, a small puff pastry filled with a squash puree. She put together shrimp rolls stuffed with crab and topped with a mango relish. Every dish required her creativity and she loved the challenge.

“Hey Jill, good job on the amuse-bouche tonight,” Eric’s booming voice shouted from across the kitchen. “Several customers are mentioning it.” Eric went on to say it was delicious; a rare compliment.

Jill patted herself on the back for getting something right this evening. She’d made a french onion custard. She’d caramelized the onions and baked them with custard, then topped it off with a bordelaise sauce.

All at once, Kaaren, the pastry chef, pulled her aside. “I didn’t know Luke was home. Why didn’t you tell me?” Her face was slightly flushed with excitement.

“Wait. Did you see him?”

“He’s in the restaurant, sitting at a corner table, lingering over his dinner,” Kaaren whispered as if Luke’s presence was a secret.

“Right now?”

“Yes, right now. The wait staff said he’s been at his table for the last two hours. He’s in no hurry to leave. Tell me everything. Is he waiting for you to get off work or something?”

Yes, he was waiting for her. Jill knew it without a doubt. After quickly filling Kaaren in on the events of the day, she hugged her tightly.

“I hope everything works out between you two, Jill.”

Jill hoped so too. But getting her hopes up seemed like a really bad idea. She took a short break to compose herself while Kaaren scurried back to work. She snacked on a few crackers that tasted like cardboard in her dry mouth.

This was crazy. Luke was acting like a stalker and she was acting like his victim, when they were anything but. Jill decided to sneak a quick peek. Surely Luke had left by now. He knew she worked late into the evening. He couldn’t possibly think it was a good idea to wait until her shift was over, did he? It would be late and they’d both be tired and . . . Jill cut off the excuses reverberating through her numb brain. Clearly, he wasn’t concerned about the time of day.

Cautiously, Jill stepped outside the kitchen doors. As her eyes wandered, she noticed Luke sitting very still at a corner table, eyeing her with a brooding stare. He nodded slightly. Shivering from the intensity of his gaze, she lost her composure and ducked back inside the relative safety of the kitchen.

Paige, one of the wait staff, whizzed past her. “He just ordered dessert, Jill,” she said coolly. “He’s certainly taking his time.”

Jill couldn’t dawdle around any longer or she’d give Eric another reason to be on her case tonight.

As the evening wore on, Paige informed her that Luke was still lingering over herb tea.

Clearly, he had no plans to leave without her.

At the end of her shift, Jill realized Luke was sitting in his idling truck just outside the parking garage, waiting for her to leave. She panicked and asked Kaaren for a ride home, ditching Luke. Jill cowered in Kaaren’s backseat, hidden from view. They laughed over their duplicity . . . until Jill arrived home, where she plummeted and cried herself to sleep, only awakening when Kaaren called to let her know she and Paige had dropped Jill’s car off at her mom’s house.

“No sign of the man with cold feet,” Kaaren joked.

And Jill laughed a little too loudly, when really she was dying inside. What did he want? And why was it vitally important?

Now that the shock of his unexpected return was fading, Jill knew she needed to see him. In all truth, she wanted to see him.

Of course she did.

3

Luke and Jill
April 2003

Present Day

At Jill’s silence, Luke flicked on the radio. Sheryl Crow busted out the words,
“If it makes you happy, then why the hell are you so sad?”

Good question. Luke had made her happy once upon a time. She should feel happy right now, being forced to spend time with him. She should be saying, “Darn, alone time with Luke? It’s gonna be tough, but someone’s gotta do it.” Then she’d laugh, throw her arms around him and kiss him.

Instead she sat there wondering why the hell she was so sad.

Luke was not an unkind man. She knew she wasn’t in any danger. Luke would never hurt her. She’d known that from the moment she’d seen his face in the Walmart parking lot.

It wasn’t physical danger she worried about.

Emotionally, he had the power to tear her apart at the seams and for that reason and that reason alone, he was dangerous. Not just dangerous . . . lethal.

Hearing what he had to say would leave her vulnerable and Jill wasn’t sure she was prepared to face those emotions quite yet.

Still, why the over-the-top tactics? Stealing her out of a parking lot and handcuffing her to the car? Seriously? What on earth was he thinking? She shouldn’t have ignored him yesterday. How could she have known it would lead him to desperate measures?

It was time to reason with him, logically and rationally.

“Luke, my mother will be worried when I don’t arrive home.”

“Your mother knows you’re with me.”

“You spoke with my mother about this?”

“Yes, I did.”

“She is gonna be furious when she finds out what you’ve done.”

“I doubt that.”

“You underestimate her. She’s quite protective when it comes to me.”

“Yes, she is. That’s why she packed a suitcase for you. She didn’t want you to ‘go without’ during our weekend together.”

Weekend? An entire weekend with Luke? “What?”

“Look behind you.”

Jill turned and there, sitting on the backseat, was her never-been-used floral luggage set, the one her mother had purchased for her honeymoon—the honeymoon with Luke that had never happened. It had once been filled with dainty lingerie, chosen and purchased with Luke in mind.