Authors: Celeste O. Norfleet
“Every time I come here it reminds me of her. This was her sanctuary. Everything in here was once a part of her. She worked so hard on this place. Now everything's gone.”
“The memories we keep forever,” she said.
He nodded.
“You miss her a lot?” Samantha asked quietly.
“Yeah, I wish you could have met her,” Jackson said, then paused, hearing his father's latest acquaintance giggle riotously. They both turned, and saw her wiggling a suggestive dance as Marcus applauded. “In more ways than one.”
She looked up at the back of the house. Every light was on, making the massive estate look like a virtual palace. “So which of the twelve bedrooms is yours?” she asked.
“
Was
mine,” he corrected, then looked up at the structure and pointed. “That one over there in the corner, second floor by the old oak tree.”
“Convenient, so you could sneak out of the house by shimmying down the drainpipe and climbing down the tree,” she joked.
“No,” he said, then took her hand to change the subject. “Tell me you're not still going when this is over.”
“Live and let go, right?”
“Would you consider staying?” he asked.
She slipped her hand from his. “I should never have let it happen, we're getting too close.” She turned away and looked out at the pristine landscape. “Yes, Jackson, I'm leaving as soon as all this is over.”
He touched her shoulder, then slowly let his hand drift down her bare back. The touch relit the fire always simmering. “Might you reconsider?”
“I can't,” she said, turning to him and looking into his eyes. “When this is over, I'm gone.” She walked away quickly, knowing that if she stayed she'd surely change her mind.
Jackson looked after her as she walked back into the house, passing Marcus as he came outside.
Marcus walked over to the railing surrounding the terrace and patio. Jackson watched as his father observed Samantha eagerly. “Interesting young woman,” he said, standing by Jackson's side.
Jackson glanced at Samantha as she stood by Pamela, who was laughing hysterically at nothing in particular. “I think so.”
“Where'd you find her?”
“We found each other.”
“I expected you to come alone,” Marcus said, implying his persistent interest in having Shauna in his life. “Ms. Lee is nice enough, I'm sure. And no doubt she is beautiful and whatever her assets, I'll be the first to encourage you to take full advantage of them, but this is business. Have her on the side, set her up someplace out of the way, all that's fine. As a mistress she's perfect, but you need someone of quality.”
“Someone like Shauna Cooperman, I assume.”
“Someone
exactly
like Shauna Cooperman,” Marcus said.
“Good night, Dad, thanks for dinner,” Jackson said before walking away.
“Jackson,” Marcus called out. Jackson turned to him. “Understand, we need this. I did it. Now it's your turn.”
J
ackson and Samantha drove back to the beach in relative silence, each deep in thought, considering the evening. Samantha stared straight ahead as her mind whirled in the mists of doubt and confusion. The crystal-clear precision she'd once had had faded. She was losing her perspective. Her emotions had gotten tangled with her reasoning, and seeing Eric had only muddied the waters. It wasn't that she wanted him back but that she saw more clearly the man she did want: Jackson. Her feelings for him had escalated. She wanted to be with him now more than ever. But she knew she couldn't be. And the pain of that realization tore at her.
Never let your emotions get involved. She remembered Jefferson saying that over and over again. Unfortunately, she had and they were. Now she needed to breathe through the hesitation and clear her mind. There was no way she could tell Jackson what was really going on without him hating her, so silence was best and distance was even better. She had gotten too close and had lost her focus, Now she needed to step away if she was going to finish this and make it right.
She nodded then in the quiet darkness. Distance, she decided ardently, yes, distance. But her smile faded as quickly as it came. How do you distance a breaking heart? She was an amateur in more ways than one.
“Are you okay?” Jackson asked softly as he glanced at her, then back to the highway.
“Yes,” she said quickly. “Just a little tired.” How could she finish this and walk away when all she wanted to do was be swallowed up in his arms?
Moments later, Jackson pulled into his driveway and turned off the ignition. “Thanks for coming with me,” he said, still sitting in the car.
She nodded, afraid her voice would give her away. Then she opened the door and got out. He followed her to the front door and opened it. She walked inside and immediately headed toward the stairs. He followed, and she paused. “Thank you for this evening, Jackson, I had a good time,” she said, turning to him as he stood too close behind her.
“You're welcome. Samantha, weâ”
“Don't worry, everything will work out perfectly. You'll have your company and life back just as it was.”
“What if I don't want it back the way it was? Samantha, weâ”
“Good night,” she said quickly before he continued, then turned to walk away. Knowing this moment would come, she decided that a swift retreat was her best option. Anything more would tear her apart as the memory of their time together stayed in her thoughts all evening. She wanted him. Her body ached for him. But her heart couldn't handle walking away forever. She teetered on the verge of falling in love. Foreign but sure, she knew that the emotion would never let her go.
Jackson grabbed her arm before she climbed the stairs. She turned. Their eyes met and everything they felt poured out. In a nonverbal nuance, their hearts met. He pulled her into his arms and for a brief moment they were connected on a higher level. Staring, hearts pounding, their breath mingling they were as one.
She bit at her lower lip nervously as he licked his own lips. Slow and seductive, the intimate acts pushed them beyond the tease. He leaned in closer. She met him halfway. They stopped, afraid that if they kissed it would be their undoing.
“We can't do this,” she whispered in heartfelt remorse, then leaned away.
“Samantha⦔ he began.
“We can't do this,” she repeated. “I can't do this.”
“You're all I think about,” he said, then smiled miserably. “My once very comfortable world is falling apart all around me, and all I can think about is being with you. Your eyes, your mouth, your smileâyou haunt me. And I don't know what to do about it. I don't understand it. My family's reputation, my business, my life, everything I know, everything I am, nothing matters when I see you⦔ His voice trailed off to a faint whisper.
“Jackson, don't do this.”
“All I want to do is touch you, love you, make love to you.”
Her insides melted. “Jackson,” she uttered and looked away. Looking into his eyes was tearing her apart inside. “Iâ¦I feelâ¦if weâ¦if you only knew.” She shook her head. “Live and let go, remember? That's what we said, that's what we promised,” she stated firmly and eased from his hold and turned back to the stairs.
“That was before,” he said.
“We can't change it now.”
“We can do anything we want.”
“Jackson,” she said, “it's complicated.”
“No, it's not complicated, it's just us and whatever we want it to be. Just let go, Samantha. Whatever it is you're holding on to, let go and take a chance with me.” She didn't respond but continued walking. “Is this about seeing Eric again?” he asked, knowing that it wasn't and that the remark would stop her in her tracks.
“No, of course not,” she said adamantly.
“Then let me love you,” he whispered. Her heart stopped and the raging torment inside erupted. How do you fight love? He had her and she was helpless to refuse.
“Turn around,” he said.
She didn't move.
“Turn around,” he repeated.
She did.
Looking into his eyes she saw the same heartfelt emotion surging inside her. A battle raged. But the reassurance of her actions gave her strength. “I'm doing this for you. You'll understand later,” she said, then hurried up the stairs for distance.
Jackson watched her go. He stood at the bottom of the stairs debating whether or not to go after her, then decided against it as her last words echoed in his thoughts.
I'm doing this for you. You'll understand later.
The meaning was unclear but the feeling behind it wasn't. She wanted him as much as he wanted her, but something held her back.
He needed Samantha to trust him. But he had no idea how to reach her. Frustrated, he moved to the sliding glass doors leading onto the deck. Opening them, he walked outside and stood at the rail looking out at the ocean view. The night was still. The full moon had crested above and the water glistened below as waves splashed against the surf.
She'd come into his life wearing stiletto heels and Chanel perfume, and just like that, in a sudden splash, everything he thought he knew was different. Tame and safe she certainly wasn't, and he liked it.
Sure of himself for the moment, he walked back into the darkened living room and stood looking around at nothing in particular. He turned on the fireplace, then walked over to the wet bar and poured himself a glass of brandy. In almost slow motion he replaced the decanter stopper, then picked up the glass and unconsciously swirled it beneath his nose. Instantly the vibrant, pungent aroma of the amber liquid pierced his nostrils, sending a rush of life back into him.
I'm doing this for you. You'll understand later.
Surrounded by darkness, he turned around and stared up at the illuminated upstairs. He took a slow easy sip of the brandy, feeling the heated lava burn down his throat. After another halfhearted sip he walked over to the sofa and sat down, holding the glass up to stare into the cracked and fractured hues of the amber liquid reflecting the gas-fired logs.
His life was just as fractured as the crystal goblet he held. He relaxed back on the sofa, letting his neck arch to stare up at the high ceiling above. The evening played out in his mind like a slow-moving picture show. For obvious reasons his father had chosen to turn a simple family dinner into a business opportunity. It was apparent that his whole evening was just an excuse to reintroduce him to George and to hopefully stir interest in Shauna. Neither worked, to his father's chagrin.
Jackson smiled.
His father hadn't expected him to bring Samantha. And she was too good to be true, taking him completely by surprise. As a matter of fact, she'd taken everyone by surprise. Seeing Eric's face when he walked in and saw her was worth the evening's annoyance. Jackson glanced up at the second floor again.
Samantha and Eric had talked privately on the terrace for some time before he interrupted them. He wondered what they'd talked about. He loosened his tie and took another sip of brandy as a tiny sliver of suspicion crept through. Just as he raised his glass to take another sip, car lights beaming through the front window caught his attention.
Curious as to who would be visiting this late, he placed his drink on the coffee table and went to open the door. As soon as he opened it, Shauna turned around.
“Hi,” she said, smiling. “I didn't think you were at home yet.” He glanced behind her seeing that she'd parked right next to him. She licked her ruby-red lips as she tossed her long auburn hair over her shoulder nervously.
“Shauna, what are you doing here? It's late.”
“I could say that I was doing some shopping at a boutique near here and thought I'd stop by to say hello, but we'd both know that would be a lie.”
“Shauna, this really isn't aâ”
“Look, before you say anything about tonight, I know things were messed up before and we⦔ She paused and looked around, then behind him into the house. “May I come in at least?”
“Uh, sure,” Jackson said, stepping aside. A sweet whisper of perfume drifted behind her as she passed. Jackson closed the door and followed her.
She walked through the foyer, catching a brief glance at her passing image in the large gilded mirror. She smiled, satisfied with the results. She'd changed clothes and it had taken her an hour to choose the perfect outfit. Something that looked casual enough to be elegant, and elegant enough to be casual. Her navy blue silk suit with matching stiletto sandals and purse was the perfect choice.
Impeccably cut and tailored, the silk designer suit fit her body perfectly. The skirt was short, showing her long legs, and the jacket was cut low, exposing her bountiful surgically enhanced overflow. Blue was Jackson's favorite color, and with her red hair and golden-blond highlights she was irresistible.
She walked into the living room and stopped, looking around. It had been a long time, but it was just as she remembered. Jackson stood waiting for her to continue. When she didn't, he moved closer. “Shauna?”
She took a deep breath and turned to face him. “Jackson, all I'm saying is that I know things weren't real great between us. I know our fathers wanted us to be together and I tried, butâ¦Look, maybe some of that was my fault. I wasn't ready. But I've changed, things are different.”
“Shauna, that was a long time ago. It's late and weâ”
“No, wait, before you say anything, hear me out. I want you in my life, Jackson,” she said, walking to stand in front of him. She reached up and fingered the loose tie still open at his neck. “Whatever or whoever you have going on right now doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is that I want you back. We could be good together. And when our fathers combine the companies, it will be ours.”
“Shauna, this isn't gonna happen.”
“What isn't?” she asked, unbuttoning her jacket and opening it to expose the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra and her gainful endowment nearly overflowed. She looked up into his eyes, seeing that he hadn't looked at her offered attributes but was instead focused on her eyes. “All I'm saying is that I miss you and after this evening, I know that you've missed me, too. The feelings are still there, Jackson. I saw the love in your eyes. You want me. Here I am. We could go right back to what we had before.”
She tipped up to kiss him. Then as he leaned his head back she realized they weren't alone. She stopped and glared over his shoulder at Samantha standing in the doorway smiling. Jackson turned to see what caught her attention.
“Samantha,” Jackson said.
“I'm sorry, I didn't realize you had company,” Samantha said standing in the doorway like a deer in oncoming headlights.
Shauna's eyes burned with fire and surprise. “Samantha, I didn't realize you'd be here.”
An awkward silence permeated the room as Shauna casually walked back over to the sofa and sat down, obviously expecting Samantha to leave the room. “If you'll excuse me,” Samantha said as she turned and went back upstairs.
Shauna watched as Samantha climbed the stairs to the second floor. “Jackson, I'd like a drink please. Tequila.”
“Aren't you still doing the program?” he asked.
She shot a hard stare. “I don't need that anymore.” Seeing that Jackson hadn't moved, she walked over and poured herself a tall drink. She took a sip, then turned back to him. “So, she lives here now, this friend of your family?”
“For the moment,” Jackson said, moving and handing her her purse from the table.
“If she's such a friend of the family, why isn't she staying with your sister? That would make more sense, wouldn't it?” Jackson didn't answer. “Or maybe she's just a friend of yours. What exactly do you know about her? I mean, she just shows up out of nowhere and attaches herself to your life. She says she's a friend of your mother's. What exactly does that even mean? For all you know, she could beâ”
“I'm sure you didn't drive all the way over here just to get involved in my personal life and things that don't concern you. What I do and whom I see doesn't concern you.”