Save The Date Part 36

"I can do friendly," Jack said. "Very friendly."

He stalked back into the living room. Zoey was stretched out on the sofa, with Shaz perched at her feet. She gave Jack a playful wink. "Was that your new squeeze? Did you tell her about me?"

"None of your business," he said, looking around the room. "By the way, where the h.e.l.l are your clothes?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Gross. The health department people who met us at the port told us we should make sure and like, sanitize everything. So we don't spread the virus. Or get it again. G.o.d forbid. As soon as I got here, I threw everything into the washing machine."

"Everything? What were you planning to wear in the meantime?"

She arched one eyebrow. "I wasn't planning to wear anything. Actually, you kind of spoiled my surprise, coming in the back door the way you did. I had this big welcome back to Jack all planned out."

"Yeah. I remember the last surprise you planned for me. I came home to an empty house, and a puppy who'd peed all over the floor. I'm pretty much over your surprises, Zoey."

She stood up, stretched, and reached her arms out toward him. "It's different this time, Jackie."

"Forget it," he said, deftly stepping sideways. "Not interested."

Zoey was not to be deterred. "I'm not contagious."

"No," Jack said, deadpan. "You're not. Whatever you've got, I'm finally immune to it. I'm gonna take a shower now, then I'm going out for a while. While I'm gone, I suggest you finish up your laundry, get dressed, and move along down the road."

"What? You're kicking me out? Just like that?"

"Just like that," he agreed. He headed for the shower. "Why don't you check the washing machine? I bet your stuff is clean by now."

He'd just stepped into the shower when he heard the bathroom doork.n.o.b turn. And then turn again. Jack chuckled and turned his face up to the nozzle, letting the water stream over his face.

Zoey pounded on the door. "You locked the door?" she hollered. "a.s.shole! What if I need to pee?"

"Take it outside," he called back. He reached for the soap and frowned when he saw the familiar silver and pink bottles of shampoo and conditioner on the window ledge. She'd already begun the process of moving in again. This time, though, the process would stop. Tonight.

When he'd toweled off and put on clean clothes, he walked out to the living room to find Zoey still reclining on the leather sofa. Thankfully, she'd gotten dressed, and was wearing an oversized blue-and-white-striped shirt and jeans. She'd combed her hair and twisted it back from her face and was looking semihuman again.

"Is that my shirt?" he asked.

She shrugged. "You never wear this shirt, so I didn't think you'd mind. My stuff's still in the dryer. I found a pair of my old jeans in the laundry room. You look nice. Where are you off to?"

"Out."

"Like, out to dinner? Not that you've asked, but I haven't had anything to eat. Not in hours and hours. And there's nothing in the fridge. I checked."

"Maybe you should go find yourself something then. Right after you pack up your stuff. I'm not taking you to dinner. And you can't stay here, Zoey."

"Where would you suggest I go? This was my home too, Jack. I can't believe you're being like this."

"Believe it," he said. "Call up one of your girlfriends. Or go to a motel."

She sat up then and crossed one long, lithe leg over the other. "The thing is, I'm sort of short of funds right at the minute. We only get paid every two weeks. I gave the cruise line this address, and they're supposed to forward my final check week after next."

Zoey gave him a sad little smile. "See? You just have to put up with me for two more weeks. Then I'll get out of your hair. If that's what you really want."

"Oh no." He shook his head emphatically. "Oh, h.e.l.l, to the no. You're not pulling that broke and helpless c.r.a.p on me again. You've been living on a cruise ship for what, three, four months? Your room and food was free, you had no living expenses. If you're broke, that's your problem. Not mine."

She turned on the tears again. "I can't believe you're being like this. I told you I was sorry."

"Actually, you never once said you were sorry," he pointed out. "Not that I care. Here's the deal, Zoey. I'm leaving now." He reached into his pocket, pulled out a money clip, and peeled off five twenty-dollar bills. "This is my parting gift to you. Buy yourself some dinner, get a room somewhere, whatever. Just make sure you're gone by the time I get back here tonight."

Zoey looked at the bills with obvious disbelief. "A hundred lousy bucks? That's it?"

"Yup." He grabbed the leash from the hook by the front door and whistled. "Shaz! Come."

The dog looked up at Zoey, and then at Jack.

"Shaz!"

She trotted over and Jack hooked the leash to her collar. "Let's go girl." He picked up his truck keys and headed for the back door.

"You can't take my dog," Zoey said, running after him. "I bought her. She's mine. You didn't even want a puppy."

Jack kept walking. "She grew on me. Anyway, possession is nine-tenths of the law."

"You can't keep her," Zoey called. "As soon as I get my check, I'm taking her with me."

Jack stopped dead in his tracks and turned around. "That reminds me." He held out his hand, palm side up.

"What?" she said sullenly.

"My house key. I'd like it back. You can just push the thumb lock when you leave."

She stalked out of the room and returned a minute later. She flipped the key, and he caught it in midair.

He was almost out the back door when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a beer can go sailing past his head before banging against the wall. Beer dripped down the door casing. He needed to paint anyway.

"a.s.shole!" she screamed.

47.

Cara stepped out the front door just as Jack was pressing the doorbell.

"I brought Shaz. I thought she and Poppy could hang out together," Jack said.

"Good idea." They took Shaz outside, where Poppy seemed ecstatic at the prospect of company, and made sure both dogs had water and toys before heading back out to the street.

"You look nice," Cara said, as Jack leaned in to kiss her. "And you smell nice too."

"You clean up pretty good yourself," he said, his lips lingering on hers. "And you smell way better than me."

"Girls are supposed to smell better than boys," she said, then gestured down at her own capris and sheer cotton flower-printed tunic. "Am I underdressed? Where are we going?"

"You're not underdressed at all. I thought we'd go to Guale, over on Drayton Street. Does that sound all right?"

"I've seen Guale written up in magazines, but I've never been. Isn't it pretty fancy?"

"Not really. The food's great, but I've gone in there wearing jeans before, and n.o.body even looks twice. Parking's a pain though. Is it too hot to walk over there?"

"Walking's good." She lifted her right foot to show off her Kelly-green sandals. "I've even got on flats."

It was dusk now, and the streetlights had come on, and the faintest damp breeze ruffled the fronds of a palm tree on the corner. As they were crossing Whitaker Street, Jack casually reached over and clasped Cara's hand. And he didn't let go when they'd reached the other side. She flashed him a smile and kept walking.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing."

"Tell me."

"You'll think I'm being ridiculous."

"Probably. Tell me anyway?"

"I don't know. This just ... it feels so nice. And normal. Walking down the street holding hands with a cute boy..."

"A boy? You make it sound like we're teenagers."

"All of a sudden, I feel like a teenager. I've truly had the most appalling day in a most appalling week, and then Jack Finnerty shows up at my door, wearing a starched dress shirt and polished loafers, and smelling like aftershave. And he's taking me to dinner ... and for a few minutes there, it made me forget my troubles. It made me remember what it's like to have somebody to care about." She blushed. "I told you it was silly."

"C'mere," Jack said. He pulled her into the darkened lane between Charlton and Jones and pressed her back against the wall of a pink stucco town house. "I'll make you feel like a teenager." He ran his hands beneath her shirt and slipped his tongue in her mouth.

Cara gave a very small, very feeble squeak of protest. She kissed him back, twined her arms around his neck, pulled him closer. Emboldened, he worked his thumbs under the band of her bra, teasing her nipples until she gasped and gave him a gentle backward shove.

"I am not having s.e.x with you in an alley," she said, smoothing down her rumpled tunic.

He chuckled and kissed her again. "We don't call them alleys in Savannah. We call them lanes. Anyway, you're the one who said you liked feeling like a teenager."

"I didn't say I liked being felt up like a teenager in public," Cara countered. "There's a time and a place for everything."

Jack sighed and straightened his own shirt. "Same old story I used to get in high school."

They'd just given the waiter their dinner order when Jack's cell phone buzzed. He took it from his pocket, read the text message, and gave a loud grunt of exasperation before putting it away again.

Cara raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Zoey. I'm not answering her because I don't want to encourage her."

"Just out of curiosity, what does she want?"

"She claims her car won't start. Wants me to come give her a jump. Okay, poor choice of words. Her battery is dead. Or so she claims. It's all a ruse."

Cara leaned forward. "Can I ask you something? What's Zoey like? How did the two of you end up together in the first place?"

"How does anybody end up together? Dumb luck. I was dumb, she was lucky. Or the other way around. How about we talk about something else? Anything else? You said you'd had a bad day? Tell me about that."

Cara looked around the dining room. She was glad they had come here tonight. This was good. A nice distraction. The tablecloth was pale yellow linen. There was a candle in a gla.s.s jar, and a small clear bud vase held a stem of pink alstroemeria that was a day past its prime. Perhaps she should talk to the owners about doing flowers for them. Her eyes rested on Jack. With a start she realized she might never get tired of looking at him. He had a tiny spatter of white paint on his left earlobe. His sunburnt nose was peeling. She looked at his big hands. His left hand was resting on the tabletop and he was clutching a gla.s.s of red wine in his right hand, and she noticed his thumbnail was blackened.

Her day?

"Where do I start? The Colonel continues to hound me about my bad debt and bad business decisions. Also, another contractor showed up at the shop this morning, all set to come in and look around on behalf of Cullen Kane."

"That guy," Jack said.

"And on top of everything else, I fired Bert."

"For real?"

"He left me no choice. He's been coming in late, leaving early, just generally slacking off. I figured he had some new boyfriend, but he kept pushing the limits. And this thing with Lillian Fanning's missing epergne, he kept acting as though I was the one accusing him of stealing it. I never accused him. Whatever else he might be, Bert is no thief. Finally, today, I'd had it. I told him if he left early he could stay gone. So he did."

"Nothing else you could do," Jack said.

"Not long after that the second contractor showed up. He had a key to my place. He let himself in the back gate. That was the final straw. I was so mad, Jack, I couldn't even see straight. Who the h.e.l.l does this guy think he is?

"I drove over to his shop--I mean, excuse me, Cullen Kane Floral Design Studio. And you'll never guess who was working as Cullen's new receptionist. Bert. My Bert!"

"Kane hired him that quickly?"

"Cullen Kane is Bert's new boyfriend. That's who Bert's been sneaking around with all these weeks now. And that's how Cullen found out my landlady died. Bert 'just happened to mention' to Kane that Bernice Bradley had died, and that Sylvia Bradley was refusing to fix my air-conditioning."

"Bert was spying on you for Cullen Kane? I thought the guy was practically your best friend."

"I thought so too," Cara said sadly. "Bert was probably planning to quit and go to work for Cullen all along. And he didn't even have the decency to feel guilty about betraying me. He just sat at that stupid desk wearing that stupid Cullen Kane T-shirt, smirking at me. He even had the nerve to ask me if I wanted a bottle of Perrier, or some champagne!"

"Did you let him have it?"

"I did. And then I went barreling to the back room to let his boss have it too."

"I'd like to have heard that."

"No you wouldn't have. You would have been ashamed of me. I'm such a spineless jellyfish. I ended up groveling at his feet-begging him to give me a new lease and let me stay in my building."