Needing Nicole (The Cantrelle Family Trilogy Book 2) (12 page)

But Nicole had her doubts that Julianne would ever be named a senior partner. No woman had ever made senior partner in the firm’s one-hundred-and-sixty-four-year history.

“He
did
say,” Julianne added with a grimace, “that the situation was only temporary. That as soon as the hiring freeze is lifted, they’ll get someone else to do Sylvester’s secretarial work.” She sighed. “And I guess I
will
have to use Francesca more.” She made a face, and Nicole couldn’t help laughing. Francesca Lamont, the paralegal Julianne shared with another of the junior partners, was the office joke. “Perhaps you could teach her how to file,” was Julianne’s parting shot.

Nicole laughed again, resigned to her fate. She knew that if Julianne hadn’t been able to budge Mr. Villac, no one could, because even though Mr. Villac might not vote for a partnership for Julianne, it was obvious to everyone in the firm that he had a soft spot in his heart for her.

Besides, there was a silver lining to Nicole’s overloaded schedule. Because she was so busy, she hadn’t had much time to think about Jack.

She hadn’t seen him in nine days—since the previous Tuesday—although they’d talked several times by phone. He had spent the previous week following up leads connected with the fourteen attorneys whose names she’d provided him, and he’d just gotten back to New Orleans the previous evening. She and Aimee had been snuggled up together on one of the love seats when Jack had called to let her know he was back and to report on his progress.

“So it was another dead end?” Nicole asked, trying to ignore the pleasure she felt at hearing his voice.

“Yeah. It turns out this guy
did
have a daughter, but the ages don’t match up. If he would have only agreed to talk to me on the phone, I could’ve spared myself a trip to Shreveport.”

Nicole could hear the weariness in his voice. “You’re discouraged, aren’t you?”

“It’s hard not to be. The thing is, I can’t spend much more time on this. My leave is technically up on Monday, although I called my boss earlier today and told him I wouldn’t be back to work until after Thanksgiving.”

Nicole’s heart plummeted at his words. She tried to keep her dismay from showing in her voice. “So you’ll be going back to Houston,” she said quietly, admitting to herself for the first time since she’d said she wanted a ‘strictly business’ relationship, that there had always been a glimmer of hope that somehow, something would happen to allow her to explore her growing feelings for Jack.

“What... what are you planning to do tomorrow?” she said.

“I still have five attorneys to check out. I’ll get back on that.”

For a moment they both fell silent. Then Jack said, “Well, I guess I should let you go. You’re probably busy.” There was a note of wistfulness in his voice, Nicole thought, or was that just wishful thinking on her part?

“I was reading to Aimee,” she admitted, reluctant to say goodbye, “but I was almost finished.”

There was an awkward silence. Then he cleared his throat and said, “I’ve missed seeing you.”

Nicole’s heart contracted.
Oh, Jack, I’ve missed you, too.
Good resolutions forgotten, she said, “You sound like a man in need of company.” Ignoring her inner voice, which was telling her she’d be sorry, she plunged on. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow? I don’t know. Nothing, I guess.”

“Julianne—my boss—and I are planning to go to a favorite haunt of mine—a Cajun restaurant-dance hall called Michaul’s. It’s a great place with great food. Would you like to go with us?”

“That sounds like fun. But I don’t dance.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s fun to watch. There’re a lot of regulars who go, and they can really dance. Do you like Cajun music?”

“I love it.”

Nicole smiled, glad she’d asked him. He needed to relax and have some fun and forget about everything. She was a big girl. She could handle one evening in his company. There was no harm in being kind to him. Besides, she told herself, Julianne would get a kick out of meeting him.

“What time do you want me to pick you up?” he asked.

“Oh, you don’t have to come out here to get me. We’ll meet you there.”

“It’s no trouble.”

Nicole gave in with no further argument. She ignored the small voice inside that said,
now, this isn’t a good idea.
She refused to examine her real motives. She was just being a friend. Jack was lonely. He was discouraged. He didn’t know anyone else in New Orleans. She’d do the same for anyone.

But after they’d hung up, and she’d gone back to Aimee and the Dr. Seuss book she’d been reading to her, Nicole admitted that even though all those reasons she’d given herself were true, there was another, more compelling reason she’d invited Jack to go out with them the following evening.

She couldn’t stand the thought of never seeing him again.

* * *

Friday dragged.

Barry Sylvester, who was turning out to be a real pain-in-the-neck with his eager-beaver, who-can-I-impress mentality and his supreme confidence that his law degree made him at least twice as intelligent as Nicole, drove her crazy the entire morning.

He hovered over her desk, asked her five times if she’d finished the Houghton brief and made her redo a letter three times—because he changed his mind about what he wanted to say. The last time he had told her she would have to redo the letter “because I’ve made some corrections”—and made it sound as if
she
was the one who had made a mistake—she nearly hit him.

Finally, just before noon, Nicole marched into Julianne’s office, shut the door firmly and said through gritted teeth, ‘If someone doesn’t get Barry off my back, I may kill him.”

Julianne pursed her lips, studied Nicole’s furious expression for a few seconds, then stood. She sighed. “Okay. Tell him I want to see him.”

Five minutes later, a red-faced Barry emerged from Julianne’s office. He sent Nicole a murderous look, but she didn’t care. Barry was a jerk. He had a lot of growing up to do.

Five minutes after that episode, Guy D’Amato entered Nicole’s cubicle and leaned over her desk. “Hi.” He smiled.

Oh, dear,
she thought.
Not today.
“Hi, Guy,” she said with a sigh.

“How’s it going today?”

Nicole made a face. “I’ve had better days.”

“Oh?” His gray eyes clouded with concern, and he pushed his glasses up on his nose.

Why did Guy have to be so nice? she wondered. She would have taken great pleasure in brushing off someone like Barry, but Guy was another story. She inclined her head toward Barry’s alcove and muttered, “I’m having problems with the new associate.”

“Oh. Well, he’ll learn.”

“Yeah, but will I live long enough?” She grinned. “Actually, will
he
live long enough? If he doesn’t straighten out his act soon, I’ll probably poison him.”

Guy gave an appreciative laugh. “Not you. You’re too nice.”

That’s exactly what I was thinking about you.

He cleared his throat. “Uh, I was hoping you’d have some time for me this weekend.”

“Oh, Guy, I’m sor—”

“Don’t say no again, Nicole. I’ve hardly seen you for two weeks.”

Nicole bit her bottom lip, remembering she’d half promised him the previous Friday, when she’d pleaded exhaustion, that she’d try to clear time for him this weekend.

“First you went home for the weekend, then last weekend you were too tired because of all the overtime…” His voice trailed off.

Why did he remind her of a dog who just wants someone to pat him on the head and tell him they like him? Why couldn’t Guy produce tingles and shivers and butterflies and all those symptoms that made a woman
want
to go out with a man? A vivid image of Jack—suntanned face, blue, blue eyes, and irresistible grin—flashed through her mind.

She could hardly believe only two weeks had gone by since she’d met Jack. He was already more important to her than Guy could ever be. The knowledge saddened her. “Guy,” she said gently. “I really am sorry, but it doesn’t look good for this weekend, either. I.. .I have a friend in town, and I’m going to be tied up.”

His face filled with disappointment.

Oh, God. She hated to hurt him. She hated to hurt anyone. “I’m sorry,” she said again.

His eyes were filled with a hurt he didn’t even try to disguise. He shrugged, the gesture poignant and resigned.

“I...”
Oh, shoot.
“Maybe we can get together Sunday night.” The minute she made the offer, she was sorry. “I can’t promise anything, but give me a call Sunday afternoon, okay?”

His hopeful expression made her feel terrible.

After he walked away, she knew she was going to have to do something about Guy... and soon. It wasn’t fair to him to let him think there could ever be anything between them. At one time, she might have kidded herself into thinking she’d come to care for him. But now that she’d met Jack and realized that what she was looking for actually existed, she knew there’d never be any hope for her and Guy.

The trouble was, there wasn’t any hope for her and Jack, either.

* * *

Jack had really missed Nicole more than he’d ever thought possible. He didn’t know how it had happened, but she had, in a short space of time, become important to him. He knew it was probably foolish to have accepted her invitation for the evening, but he couldn’t help being glad she’d invited him to tag along with her and her boss.

He didn’t know what people wore to a Cajun restaurant where they played zydeco music and danced, but he didn’t really have much choice. All he’d brought with him was one suit—which he darned sure knew he shouldn’t wear—and casual clothes. He figured in the unlikely event he needed anything dressier, he could buy it. So far he hadn’t felt the need to go shopping.

After looking through his meager supply of clothing, Jack decided on one of his newer pairs of jeans and a royal blue crewneck sweater. He checked himself out in the mirror, decided he didn’t look bad and picked up his jacket and keys.

It didn’t take long at all to get to Nicole’s, and he ended up being fifteen minutes early. It was only six forty-five. He parked the car in the driveway, noticed that except for the back porch light, no lights shone at the Reed-Douglas house.

He walked along the back path to Nicole’s cottage. He rang the bell, a nice feeling of expectation firing his gut.

Nicole opened the door and smiled, a smile that socked him in the solar plexus. “Hi,” she said brightly. “You’re early. Come on in. The sitter’s not here yet, but she should be any minute. She just lives up the street.” She stood aside.

He walked past her, then turned. When he got his first full look at her, he thought his heart would give out.

Lord have mercy, he thought. There ought to be a law or something.

She looked incredible. Sassy. Sexy. Stunning. He couldn’t think of any word that did her justice. He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.

She was wearing a short black leather skirt that ended midthigh, paired with black tights that hugged her long, lovely legs. On her feet were patent leather shoes with tiny heels.

Clinging to her torso like a second skin was a long-sleeved, round-necked, black knit top studded with silver bangles and sequins. The delectable curves of her full breasts were outlined in breathtaking clarity.

Slowly, his gaze traveled up, past the enticing arch of her slender neck to her faintly flushed cheeks and bright eyes. Her hair tumbled around her face in wild curls, and long, sparkly silver-and-crystal earrings dusted her shoulders. She knew he was inspecting her. She probably knew exactly what reaction he was experiencing.

Their gazes met. She lifted her chin, dark eyes flashing.

Jack decided she was magnificent.

He loved her outfit.

And he knew she knew he loved it.

In a voice not quite steady, he said, “You look great.”

“Thanks. These are my dancin’ clothes.” She grinned.

She walked ahead of him into the living room, and Jack wiped his suddenly clammy hands against his jeans.

To cover his agitation, he sat down on a love seat and crossed his legs. To his relief, Aimee came racing into the room a second or so later. She looked adorable in pink bunny-footed pajamas, her cheeks a matching shade. Her blond curls were still damp from her bath. She grinned when she saw him. “Jack Rabbit!”

“I think you’re the rabbit tonight,” he said, grinning at her, thinking if he could be sure he’d have a child like Aimee, he might not mind having children. He pointed at her feet.

She giggled, the sound warm and wonderful. She peeked at him through her long lashes. She was definitely going to be a charmer. Rather like her mother, he thought, giving Nicole a glance over Aimee’s head.

He was disconcerted by the expression in Nicole’s eyes, an expression she quickly covered by saying brightly, “Did you brush your teeth, sugar?”

“Uh-huh,” Aimee said with a nod. She grinned at Jack again.

He grinned back, wondering what that expression had been. Could it have been wistful? And if so, what had it meant?

Just then there was a knock on the door, and Nicole stood and walked over to answer it. As she passed by Jack, he caught a whiff of her perfume—something that smelled like sandalwood and jasmine.

“Hi, Heather! You’re right on time,” Nicole said.

A pretty red-headed teenager walked into the room, and Aimee shouted, “Heather!”

“Hi, Aimee,” the girl said. She gave Jack a shy look.

Nicole introduced them, then proceeded to give Heather some instructions. “Don’t let her stay up past eight o’clock. She can have some ice cream, but she’ll have to brush her teeth again if she does. The ice cream is in the freezer. And help yourself to soft drinks or chips or whatever you want. You know where everything is.”

Heather nodded.

“And we’ll be at Michaul’s in case of an emergency. I wrote the number down by the phone,” Nicole continued. “Oh, and the Reed-Douglases will be home by ten or so, so if you should need them—”

“I know. Don’t worry.”

Within minutes, they were on their way. Jack had never been as aware of anyone as he was of Nicole sitting so close to him in his two-seater car. Her scent filled his senses. She hadn’t put her jacket on, and the sequins and bangles on her shirt glittered in the darkness. Jack wanted to touch her more than he’d wanted anything in a long time. She reminded him of the North Star, so radiant and so beautiful it overshadowed everything in its realm.