“I’m not sure if Harvey—” Marc began.
“Of course,” Rebecca said, cutting him off. “Marc will settle the terms with Harvey. Harvey has a lot riding on this production and is as eager to get started as Marc, so he’ll want to agree. And we’ll also allow your lawyer to work out the details. After you and Melanie have had a chance to discuss it, of course.” She stood and approached me with her arms outstretched. She clasped both of my hands in hers. “I’m so glad we’re family.”
Jack pulled himself away from the desk and moved to put himself out of Rebecca’s arm range. “I think I’m going to subscribe to ancestry.com to confirm that.”
Rebecca laughed. “Because I’m so petite and blond and Melanie . . . isn’t? Oh, don’t be silly. We’re from Charleston. Our family tree is practically tattooed on our chests the moment we’re born.” She sobered. “Not that we have tattoos, of course.”
“Of course not,” Jack said, his eyes frosty.
Jack and I escorted Marc and Rebecca to the door. “We’ll be in touch,” I said as they moved into the corridor.
“How soon?” Marc asked, a note of panic detectable in his voice.
“Good-bye,” Jack said in response, shutting the door firmly in Marc’s face.
There was a long silence from the other side of the door and then the sound of slow footsteps retreating down the hallway.
I looked at Jack, realizing my nose was almost touching his chin. He didn’t step back and I couldn’t move at all.
“So, what do you think?” he asked, his voice low. I thought it also sounded sultry, but that could have been just my wishful thinking.
I cleared my throat a couple of times and swallowed. “I think you agreed to think about it too easily. It’s nice that you would consider my feelings about helping family, but you and I both know my feelings don’t extend to Marc. Which makes me think you’re working on your own plan.”
He smiled lazily. “You know that saying about keeping your friends close and your enemies closer? Let’s just say that I see an opportunity here that Marc isn’t aware of. I just might finally have a chance to beat him at his own game.” He looked at his watch. “And I’ll tell you all about it later. Right now I’ve got to run.”
“Chest waxing?”
Jack chuckled. “Not exactly. Yvonne Craig needs my help moving boxes for her garage sale,” he said, referring to the octogenarian and long-term research librarian. His gaze turned serious. “If we agree, it will mean having a film crew in the house while you’re living in it. But there’s no way we can allow Marc free run of our house.”
I nodded, my eyes trying not to focus on his mouth. “I know.”
“And more bumps in the night from all the extra activity.”
“Yes. But you’ll at least get paid for your story. There’s some justice there, don’t you think? Even if it’s only fifty percent and not the one hundred percent that you deserve. But it’s something. And we won’t have to spend the children’s education funds on a lawsuit.” My voice sounded almost as husky as his.
His eyes drifted down to my lips, and I found myself leaning forward, my eyes closing, my heart racing, a brief worry that I might still have whipped cream on my face.
Jack’s hands gently gripped my arms, my puckered lips touching only empty air.
“Are you all right, Mellie? It looked like you were about to fall.”
“Sorry.” I stepped back, flustered.
His eyes darkened, reassuring me that he’d felt the pull, too. He zipped up his jacket and headed for the door. “Thanks, Mellie. We’ll talk later, all right? And as soon as you and I agree on terms, I’m going to give Harvey Beckner exactly one week to agree or the deal’s off. He already took care of the necessary permits back in December, so there’s no reason why he can’t begin filming as soon as the ink’s dry on the contract.”
“Sounds good.” I forced a smile, watching him walk out the door and close it behind him. I still hadn’t moved when he opened it again.
“Mellie?”
“Yes?”
“That was almost kiss number what?” he said, referring to the running joke we’d had before we were married.
“I don’t remember.” I straightened. “Maybe we can start over. Make it almost kiss number one.”
He smiled sadly. “I’ll have to think about it. I don’t really believe in do-overs.” He shut the door behind him again, and I listened as his footsteps faded down the corridor.
I stared at the closed door for a long time before I sat at my desk again and emptied out my pencil cup, rearranging all of the pencils and pens by size and color. My concerns over how quickly Jack had agreed to consider Marc’s proposal were overtaken by the replay in my head of Jack’s words when he’d referred to me as his wife, reassuring me that despite everything, he hadn’t forgotten.
CHAPTER 5
A week later, I found myself driving down Queen Street, more than half an hour early for a house showing nearby. Catherine Jimenez had shown pity on me and handed me the client since she was overwhelmed with business. I was too grateful to lie and say I was too busy juggling enough of my own clients to accept her castoffs.
I slowed the car in front of Veronica’s house after I made a last-minute decision to stop. A clutter of construction vehicles prevented me from parking nearby, and I had to walk two blocks back to Veronica’s yellow Victorian. As I walked, I smiled to myself as I took in all the noise and commotion of construction, happy to acknowledge that at least one of my plans was actually working.