Nobody's Fool (3 page)

Jolie sat in the swing on the front porch waiting for Chip to take her to Jenny Johnston’s pool party, and there Court was, hands shoved in his pockets. His hair, as usual, seemed to be going in six directions at once, and his glasses obscured the majority of his face.

She patted the seat next to her and he sat.

“I brought you something,” he said, and he handed her the small box wrapped in shiny red paper with a tiny white bow on top.

“Oh, Court. That’s so sweet.”

She opened the little box and withdrew the locket on its fine gold chain. “How pretty.” She gave Court her best, brightest smile of appreciation. She was leaving tomorrow. She could afford that much. The front of the locket was engraved with the word
Friends
in swirling script.

“Open it,” he suggested.

She did. She saw the beaming faces of those two eight-year-olds.

“It’s us,” he explained. “When we were in third grade.”

“Yes, I know.” She closed the locket and turned it over, rubbing her thumb across the inscription on the back.
Forever
. She chanced a quick look at Court again. What she saw in his eyes left no doubt as to what “forever” meant to him.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said. “I could apply to some schools in New York.” So he could be closer to her. That’s what he wasn’t saying.

She panicked. Despite appearances Courtney Harrison was a million miles ahead of her in so many ways. He seemed to know things. He was sure of himself, of his direction in life. He was sure of her, too. Sure they belonged together. All she could think was,
No, I’m not who you think I am. I can’t be what you want me to be.

What Court didn’t know was that the appeal of design school in New York, far away from everyone and everything familiar, was to let her reinvent herself. To be the Jolie she longed to be. Smart. Successful. Secure. But it wasn’t without risk. It could all fall apart like a house of cards. She didn’t want to be responsible for someone else’s life decisions when the ones she was making for herself seemed precarious at best.

A horn honked. At the curb Chip swerved to a stop in a shiny red Jeep and saved her from an even more awkward moment.

She hastily stuffed the locket back in the box and dropped both on the swing cushion before she hopped up. “There’s Chip.”

Court stood as well. He seemed about to say something.

“Let’s go, baby,” Chip hollered. He revved the Jeep’s engine and she practically ran to the driveway, looking over her shoulder only once to wave. “Thanks for the locket, Courtney. I’ll see you.”

She’d left Court standing there, hands in his pockets, hurt and disappointment written all over him.

After Jenny’s party she broke up with Chip. She’d come home to find the locket right where she’d left it. She buried it in her jewelry box, just as she’d buried her feelings for Court.

She closed the locket and turned it over. She opened the clasp and fastened the chain around her neck. Forever was a long time. But it didn’t seem quite so long as it had ten years ago.

Chapter Four

“Ready to go, Princess?”

Court grinned and Jolie felt her knees go weak. He leaned against the doorjamb, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit. Armani, if she wasn’t mistaken. She wondered if he’d ever considered modeling. He had the physique for it, the hair and the killer smile. Even the way he adjusted his cuffs right now looked like he was posing for the camera.

Courtney Harrison, male model. She shook her head at the thought. Who’d have thought someone as geeky as he’d been would turn into such a hunk?

“I’m not surprised,” Court said as he crossed the threshold.

Was he psychic, too? “You mean you always knew you’d turn out this way?”
Then why didn’t you tell me?

Court cocked his head as if she were speaking a foreign language. He glanced at his watch. “Have you already had a few? I meant I wasn’t surprised that you aren’t ready yet.”

“What do you mean? Of course I’m ready.” She pirouetted for his inspection. What more could she possibly do? She’d bathed, shaved, exfoliated and moisturized. She’d painstakingly arranged her hair in an elegant upsweep and taken forever getting her make-up just right. The little black dress from Calvin Klein and the dainty Badgley Mischka high heels were sure to make the local heads turn. She doubted Oak Ridge had ever seen such high fashion within the city limits. She picked up her Chanel evening bag.

“Okay, then, let’s go,” Court said.

“Ah, ah! Not before I get a picture of the two of you.” Her mother appeared, holding a camera high. “Hello, Court. Don’t you look handsome this evening?”

“Hi, Mrs. Kramer. Thanks.”

“Come on, you two. For old times’ sake. Let me get a couple of shots before you leave.”

“Mother—” Jolie began, hoping to thwart her mother’s intentions.

“Where would you like us, Mrs. Kramer?” Court asked.

“How about right here, in front of the stairs?”

Jolie sighed, not inaudibly. She wished her mother would stop acting like this was prom night again.

She stood next to Court, clutching her bag. She didn’t want to get too close. She didn’t trust herself around him.

Her mother squinted at the camera’s small screen. “Oh, come on, you two. You can do better than that. You’ve known each other forever. You could at least act like it.” She waved Court closer to Jolie and he obliged.

He slid his arm around her waist and she stopped breathing. Her smile froze in place and the flash blinded her.

“Okay, one more.”

“Sure.” Court moved behind Jolie and looped his arms around her shoulders, his head next to hers. She swore she could feel him grin at the camera. Maybe he was a male model after all. The flash went off again.

“Perfect.”

“I didn’t mess up your hair or anything, did I, Princess?” Court asked. He winked at Mrs. Kramer.

“Here, why don’t you take the camera and use it at the party? I’m sure you’ll want pictures of all your old high school pals.”

She handed the camera to Court and he slid it into his pocket. “Thanks, Mrs. Kramer. I’ll try to get a few shots suitable for framing. If Princess here will oblige.”

Her mother tittered and made some inane comment in reply. Jolie wasn’t listening, glowering at both of them, but especially at Court. Her mother seemed entirely too fond of him.

He escorted her out the door to a black BMW parked by the curb. Jolie was impressed but she’d be damned if she’d act like it. She loved sports cars. Especially expensive black ones with good-looking men at the wheel.

Court made no attempt to impress her with flashy maneuvers or excessive speed. It was almost disappointing given the power under the hood. She had a hard time keeping her eyes off his hands. Every time he touched the gearshift it made her think of him touching her. His fingers curled around the steering wheel made her think of those fingers curled in her hair. While he kissed her. Slowly. Lavishly.

Her mind flashed back to his comment about his tongue and cream-filled donuts, and got stuck there.

“Cat got your tongue?”

He
was
psychic.

“Tongue? No, I was just thinking, that’s all.”

“Nervous?”

“No. Why should I be?”

Court slid her a sideways glance. “I don’t know. ’Cause you’re going to see all your old boyfriends, maybe?”

“Ha. They’re the ones who should be nervous.”

“Why’s that?”

Why was that? Why had she said that? In that particular tone of voice?

“Think they’ll all be eating their hearts out when they see you, huh?” Court asked. He sounded amused.

That was exactly what she’d been thinking. Sort of. But she’d be damned if she’d admit it. She was supposed to be here to fix the past, not gloat.

“No. I don’t know what I meant. Maybe I’m just nervous.” Now. Thanks to Court. “What about you? Are you nervous?”

“Not really. I’ve kept in touch with quite a few of the kids I hung out with in high school.”

“You didn’t stay in touch with me,” Jolie pointed out.

“No, I didn’t.”

Jolie wanted to ask why, but she was afraid she already knew the answer. She’d given Court no reason to believe she wanted anything to do with him once they’d graduated and gone their separate ways. A vague sense of disappointment settled over her.

What had he said to her that day he’d given her the locket? She tried to recall his exact words but couldn’t. Something about how he’d always be there for her.

The memory she’d buried most deeply, the one she wished she could forget now was the look on Court’s face when she’d glanced back as she and Chip drove away.

Thank goodness he no longer had a crush on her. He no longer cared about her as anything other than an old friend he hadn’t seen in ten years. She couldn’t hurt him any more and that was a good thing, wasn’t it?

Of course it was.

The Sunset View Supper Club was what passed for an upscale restaurant in Oak Ridge. The place did an imitation of class, but after spending much of her time in LA and living in the Big Apple, Jolie knew it fell short of the real deal.

Still, it was the place she remembered from earliest childhood where special occasions were celebrated. The food was good, if unremarkable. The furnishings were dated, but the linens were clean, the staff experienced.

Court allowed a teenage boy masquerading as a valet to park his car. Hadn’t he noticed the kid’s awe over a chance to get behind the wheel? He’d probably take it for a joy ride while they were inside, like in
Ferris Bueller’s Day Off
.

“I can’t believe you let that kid park your car,” Jolie told him as they approached the restaurant.

“Why?”

“How can you trust him?”

“It’s just a car, Jolie.”

“Just a car? What planet are you from? It’s an M3. A fifty-thousand-dollar car. Most men I know wouldn’t let a kid like that get anywhere near it.”

“That says something about most of the men you know, doesn’t it? The car was a gift from a grateful client. I’m not overly attached to it.”

He opened the door and Jolie had to clench her jaw to keep it from dropping. How could Court be so nonchalant about such an expensive car? What sort of grateful client gave BMWs as gifts?

They approached the registration table where two vaguely familiar women were seated.

“Court,” they cried in unison, abandoning their posts to give him heartfelt hugs. Jolie hung back, feeling a bit left out. She thought one of them might be Erin Miller. Had Erin been drum majorette or captain of the dance team? Her features were animated, her smile genuine as she chatted it up with Court.

The other woman, who Jolie couldn’t place, was no less thrilled to see Court. Newcomers pressed up behind Jolie before the pair returned to the business of handing out nametags and checking guests off their lists.

Court peeled the adhesive back off his nametag. “You have one there for Jolie Kramer, don’t you? You remember Jolie.”

He tugged her forward. Jolie could see Erin’s nametag now. She gave Jolie a smile considerably less warm than the one she’d given Court. “Of course. Jolie Kramer. Good to see you again.”

Liar
, Jolie thought.

Open hostility radiated from the other woman’s eyes. When Jolie saw her nametag she knew why. Sarah Carter. Jolie winced at the memory of her and her friends giggling at the then considerably overweight Sarah during PE class. The back seam of Sarah’s shorts had split open during aerobics. Jolie could still remember Sarah’s embarrassment as she waddled to the locker room, the cruel remarks from those in her group and Sarah’s glare of resentment. Jolie hadn’t said anything, but she hadn’t discouraged the others either.

“Hi, Sarah. I didn’t recognize you at first.”

“Really?” Sarah glared up at her. “I recognized you the minute you walked in. In fact, I’d be willing to bet you haven’t changed a bit.”

Jolie was taken aback by Sarah’s hostility. She picked up her nametag and followed Court to the bar. Tears pricked at her eyes. Maybe the reunion was a mistake. Right now, her whole life felt like a mistake. Court turned and smiled at her. “What would you like?”

At least he was still her friend. At least he didn’t hate her. “White wine, please.”

Several other reunion attendees were gathered along the bar and around the buffet tables. She thought she detected a few glances her way, but no one came forward to greet her. There were more vaguely familiar faces. Names flitted through her mind, but she had trouble attaching them to the individuals. It occurred to her that she hadn’t been close to anyone. The only person she knew at all was Court.

He turned and handed her a glass of wine and a cocktail napkin. She studied his smile, his eyes. He wasn’t Courtney, the boy next door anymore. He was Court, the man, sure of himself and in control. She wished she felt half as confident about this evening as he seemed to.

He hoisted his own glass filled with amber liquid—what did he drink anyway? Bourbon? Scotch?—in a silent toast. “Shall we mingle?” He took her elbow and steered her toward a group near the bar.

“Court, I’m having trouble remembering anyone. Did we really go to high school with these people?”

“Probably not all of them. Some are spouses, you know. You can’t expect to remember everyone.”

But I don’t remember anybody
, Jolie thought. How could that be? She’d had friends in high school, hadn’t she? She’d had boyfriends. Surely she’d not only remember them but recognize them.

“Jolie? Jolie Kramer?” A blond, blue-eyed man who would have been more attractive if not for the extra fifty pounds hanging round his middle, broke off his conversation to address her.

Jolie stopped, scrambling for a name, any indication of who he was.

“Don’t break my heart by saying you don’t remember me,” he warned her with a jovial grin.

Jolie stared, shock temporarily immobilizing her tongue.

“Chip Sobeleski, I thought that was you.” Court stuck out his hand and Chip took it, clearly having no clue who Court was. “Court Harrison. You probably don’t remember me.”

Chip reluctantly dragged his gaze away from Jolie. “Sure I do. You managed the football equipment. Weren’t you kind of a geek back then?”

“That’s me,” Court supplied cheerfully.

“He wasn’t a geek.” Jolie felt she owed Court for bailing her out. She still couldn’t believe this guy was Oak Ridge High’s star quarterback. She’d dated him the last half of her senior year and yet she hardly recognized him.

“Sure he was,” Chip said cheerfully. “But look at him now. He outgrew it. Not me. I’m still the same dumb jock I always was. ’Cept I traded in my football helmet for a bowling glove.” He jabbed Court in the ribs with his elbow and guffawed at his own joke.

His gaze returned to Jolie and he sobered a bit. “You’re sure a sight for sore eyes, Jolie. Still as pretty as you were in high school.”

Jolie felt a stab of pity for Chip. “Thanks, Chip. It’s wonderful to see you.” She stepped forward with the intention of kissing his cheek. But Chip had other ideas. He grabbed her in a bear hug causing her wine glass to tip dangerously.

“I see I was right about you. You haven’t changed a bit,” came a venom-filled voice from behind them. Chip set Jolie away from him, and she saw Sarah turn a thunderous gaze on Chip. “And neither have you.”

Chip immediately turned repentant. “Now, Sarah, honey, we were just saying hello. I can’t help it if Jolie still can’t keep her hands off me.”

“Chip!” Jolie squawked.

“If you’ll excuse us,” Court broke in. “I think we’ll go say hello to some of the others.”

He led her away and like a zombie she followed, glancing back only once to see Chip and Sarah in a heated exchange. Instead of joining another group, Court positioned her in a quiet corner.

“You okay?” he asked without looking at her. He smiled and lifted his drink in acknowledgment to someone who waved from across the room.

“I’m fine.” Her gaze darted back to Chip and Sarah. They were standing rigidly next to each other. Chip’s cheeks were red. Even from that distance, Sarah’s eyes shot daggers at her. “I can’t believe they’re together. Who would have thought? Chip and Sarah.”

“They got married the year Chip got his AA degree from the community college.”

“She lost fifty pounds and he gained it,” Jolie said almost without thinking.

Court shot her a disappointed look. He probably thought that was a catty remark to make, and perhaps it was. It was also the truth.

“He drives a delivery truck for the local beer distributor. Sarah teaches kindergarten,” Court informed her. “They’ve got two kids.”

“Sarah and Chip,” Jolie repeated. “Who would have thought?”

“We can go mingle some more if you promise to behave.”

“I didn’t come on to Chip and you know it. He was the one who—” She stopped herself when she saw the twinkle in Court’s eyes. He was teasing her. How long had it been since anyone had teased her that way? She giggled. “Let’s go.” After Chip and Sarah, she was sure nothing about her former classmates would shock her.

Two hours later, she and Court were facing each other across a Formica tabletop in a cozy booth at Mel’s Diner.