Chapter 8
J.T. awoke out of a deep sleep to hear his phone buzzing. Caroline mumbled in her sleep and rolled onto her stomach as he left the bed to grab it, stooping to pick up his pants on the way out. They’d stayed awake for most of the night, talking and making love, and he couldn’t blame her for being tired. He was feeling it himself although he couldn’t complain. It had been one of the best nights of his life.
“Trev, you’d better have a good reason for calling me,” he said as he closed the bedroom door.
“You know I do,” his brother replied. “I decided to do a little reconnoitering to confirm some suspicions. Interested in hearing who Cynthia is meeting with right now for breakfast?”
Holding the phone against his ear with his shoulder, he pulled on his pants and eyed the clock. It was after nine. “I should take you to task for the spy work, but hell yes, I’m interested.”
He walked down the hallway and took the stairs back to the kitchen. He might need a cup of coffee to get him through this call.
“You aren’t going to like it. Hell, I don’t like it, and you know I’ve had some pretty dark thoughts toward her.”
His siblings all loathed Cynthia for treating him as she had. He appreciated their concern and certainly understood such thoughts. He’d been okay if suddenly a piano fell on her, after all.
“Give it to me straight,” he said, looking in Caroline’s cabinets for coffee.
“She’s meeting with the new president of the university,” Trev said.
He almost dropped the phone. “What? Shit!”
“Yeah,” Trev said. “Right in The Grand Hotel’s restaurant. It’s like she wanted you to know.”
His mind spun. He’d suspected she’d go for the lawyer route again. It wouldn’t have been easy now that the papers were signed, but it certainly would have been aggravating.
“You’re right. She would have been discreet otherwise. You think she’s planning on talking him out of the museum? I mean, can she? The board approved it—even if he wasn’t president at the time.”
“Seems like the horse I’d bet on,” Trev said. “It’s total bullshit, but that won’t stop her. The question is how she plans to do it.”
Now that made his belly churn. Cynthia would know he had all the I’s dotted and the T’s crossed. What was her play? Cause more havoc in his life? Delay the process? Talk badly about him to his new partners of sorts?
“President Matthau doesn’t know me well, and he’s—”
“Young and ambitious,” Trev said. “Who knew universities could be such political hotbeds?”
“Maybe that’s why Dad resigned from the board when we were kids.”
J.T. had hoped to regain their family’s connection to the university his great grandfather had started.
“I suppose I’d better make up an excuse and call Matthau then,” J.T. said. “We need to head Cynthia off.”
Trev snorted. “You can’t head off Calypso.”
An apt comparison, J.T. thought. In the Greek myth, Calypso detained Odysseus for seven years on her island, hoping he’d become her immortal husband.
“What do you think she’s up to?” J.T. asked. “We’ve been playing the Cynthia guessing game for three years now, and you’re a pro.”
There was a pause. “What you said. Smear you and maybe our family. We’ll have to see. Of course, she might be volunteering her fundraising for all we know. She does have a hell of a track record at it, but I can’t imagine why she’d volunteer to help with the museum. She’s never had a day job, and I doubt she wants to stay in Dare Valley for longer than it takes to torment you. Besides, it would look really weird if the university let that happen. She’s your ex-wife for God’s sake.”
“She likes to circle around and wait for the right moment to attack,” J.T. said.
“Pisses me off,” Trev said, his voice rising. “All right, I’m getting worked up. I won’t give my power away like that. Neither should you.”
“No, she’s controlled way too many of my moods in the past three years,” J.T. said. “Last night, I turned a new corner in creating the life I want. I’m not going to let Cynthia fuck that up.”
“Good,” Trev said. “Are you still with Caroline?”
“Yes,” he said, “but she doesn’t seem to have any coffee.”
“You should dump her right now,” Trev said without missing a beat. “I mean, your children might end up liking tea instead.”
The thought gave him a jolt. He wasn’t ready to think about kids. Hell, even the M word made him break out in hives after what he’d been through. He hadn’t lied to Uncle Arthur. He wasn’t sure he ever wanted to get married again. People in Europe lived together all their lives without traipsing down the aisle and bringing in all the legal shit. He was leaning that way.
“Tea’s not so bad.”
“Right,” Trev said. “But you’ll only drink the kind that doesn’t come in bags. You’re a beverage snob, but I love you. Don’t come back here right away. I’ll keep my eyes and ears out. Do you want to call Uncle Arthur and get his sources working for us?”
He thought again of what Uncle Arthur had told him the previous day. The Hales had a bead on everything that happened in Dare Valley—they were the best allies he could have. “Good idea.”
“That’s why I’m watching over you, little brother. Have fun with Caroline. And remember. Don’t let Sin City get to you. See ya when I see ya.”
“Unless I see you first,” J.T. said, making Trev laugh before they ended the call.
He set the phone down and leaned back against the counter, trying not to let himself worry. He’d done everything he could to ensure the museum was safe. But clearly Cynthia had a plan, and he had little choice but to wait for her next move. God, he was so tired of this shit.
Once, and only once, he’d asked her what it would take to make her stop. They’d just crossed into year two of the proceedings with no end in sight. Her response had devastated him. You can come back. On your knees. He’d hung up immediately and gotten drunk. It wasn’t an option, and after all her subterfuge, he couldn’t believe a word she said.
“Good morning,” he heard Caroline say in a jovial voice. “Were you talking to someone?”
He turned to her, and a new calm settled over him, almost like a cool wave in the ocean on a hot day. “God, you’re beautiful in the morning. I should have expected it.”
She ducked her head. “Thanks. My sisters tease me about it. What can I say? My hair stays in place.”
Yeah, the dark brown curls rested on her shoulders, an array that would have made Da Vinci rush to his easel, but it wasn’t only that. Her skin was luminous without makeup, and sure enough, her lips were a little red and swollen from all their kissing last night.
“Sorry if I woke you,” he said, crossing to take her in his arms.
She laid a hand on his chest and lifted her face. Last night had changed things between them, and he wanted her to know just how much. He cupped her cheek and kissed her slowly, as if the outside world didn’t exist, something he very much wanted to believe right now.
Her sigh was audible when she laid her head on his bare chest. “I’m so glad it’s not weird between us.”
Yeah, he’d had those mornings too. “No way. Caroline…I’ve never felt like I did last night.”
“Me either. J.T., I know this is early, but I need to tell you…I might be in love with you.”
Everything inside him seemed to still. His heart expanded, and he wanted to punch the air and yell yes to the heavens. Maybe the gods or whoever was up there were looking out for him, after all.
“That’s music to my ears,” he said. “I might be in love with you too.”
She beamed, and his heart grew larger yet—until the remaining walls he’d built around it tumbled. Filled with awe and gratitude, all he could do was stare at her, like she was the moon or a supernova or something even more beautiful and spectacular.
“Actually, no it’s not a might or maybe,” he said, his voice becoming stronger with each word. “I have…complete certainty about this.”
He’d never been one for half measures. She was blinking at him, and he finally smiled at her.
“I felt…something huge for you in Rome, but I didn’t want to say anything. I had…baggage. I didn’t completely trust myself. I mean, we barely knew each other, and I didn’t want to…”
He trailed off when he realized he was babbling.
She touched his cheek, as though trying to tell him it was okay.
Then he caught sight of his phone lying on the counter. He still had baggage, he realized, in care of his ex-wife, who was meeting with the president of the university where he’d planned to stake his future.
Caroline’s future was at risk too.
Then he looked into her eyes again, and the love he felt for her helped settle the seething feelings. She loved him and he loved her. Uncle Arthur was right.
They would face whatever came together.