Aunt Erica.
Hearing those words should have unsettled her, but oddly enough they hadn’t.
Reflecting on that, she stripped off the rest of her clothes and slid into the bath. The heat warmed her frozen limbs. If playing in the snow was going to be a more frequent occurrence, then she needed to rethink her wardrobe. So far, she hadn’t given any thought to what happened beyond the end of this week.
It seemed strange to think that only a few days before she’d been planning to leave without ever even introducing herself to Hattie. She’d been longing to get back to her uncomplicated life in Manhattan, but she no longer felt that way, although she still had to figure out what should happen next.
Aunt Erica.
She grinned and added more hot water to the tub. She had no idea how to be an aunt. So far, she’d followed all Delphi’s leads, but she should probably try to do better. There had to be books on the subject, surely? Was an aunt supposed to be fun and do all the things a mother would frown at, or was she supposed to be firm and a disciplinarian?
She stepped out of the bath, wrapped herself in a large towel and stared at her phone.
The urge to call Jack was almost overwhelming. Should she invent a function she wanted him to attend with her? Think of a different excuse?
No. This was ridiculous. She was forty. Too old to play games. Jack was a straight talker and so was she. If she wanted to call him, she should simply call him.
And say what? That she was regretting not letting him stay that last time they’d been together?
Impatient with herself, she walked back into the bedroom and dressed for dinner.
She took time over her hair and makeup and then took a deep breath and picked up the phone.
He answered almost immediately. “Erica?”
Hearing his voice made her stomach flutter and sent a slow warmth through her veins.
“Hi.”
“How’s your week with your friends? Are you painting each other’s toenails and having midnight feasts?”
The image made her smile. “Is that what you imagine we’re doing?”
“I have no idea what you’re doing, but I’m having fun picturing you lounging around in your underwear, so don’t ruin my day by telling me you’re wearing a ski jacket zipped to the neck.”
She’d forgotten how much she enjoyed talking to him. There were few people she felt so comfortable with.
“I’m sorry to break it to you, but a few hours ago I was wearing a ski jacket zipped to the neck. Also, I went on a sled. And no, I’m not joking.”
There was a pause. “Why would I think you were joking?”
“Because we both know I’m not a sled type of person. I doubt I would have agreed to it if the person I was with hadn’t been so persuasive, but they were, so I did. And I had fun.” She walked across the room and chose a pair of boots for the evening. “Are you surprised?”
“That you’re capable of letting go and enjoying the moment? Not at all. I’ve always known you have hidden layers.” He paused. “Tell me more about the person who persuaded you to get in touch with your inner child—is he a six-foot-four ski bum with overdeveloped shoulders and bulging arms? I want a description of my rival. Would I win in a fight?”
Her skin tingled. The word rival suggested that she and Jack enjoyed an intimate relationship. She was surprised how much she liked the sound of that.
“That depends.” She pulled on her boots. “What’s your weapon?”
“A laptop and a fountain pen. I slay with both. Also a photographic memory and words. I win with words.”
She imagined him in his office, seated behind a large desk with acres of glass behind him and the whole city spread beneath. His shirt would be crisply ironed, and his jacket would fit his shoulders perfectly. Jack was always immaculate. When he walked into a room people noticed, although he had a gift for putting them at ease. He was always calm and in control. She couldn’t imagine him being wiped out on a sled or threatened by a rival.
“My companion is five years old. Unless you happen to know a lot about sharks or dinosaurs, you won’t win in the conversation stakes.”
“I happen to have an encyclopedic knowledge of dinosaurs, and I am confident I would be able to hold my own in an interrogation on the Jurassic era. So, Ms. Chapman, what’s your favorite dinosaur?”
“Excuse me?”
“Your favorite dinosaur. Everyone has one.”
She walked to the window, smiling. “They do? In that case, tell me yours.”
“Velociraptor.” He didn’t hesitate. “They’re smart, quick on their feet and not afraid to kill.”
“You mean they are the lawyers of the dinosaur world.”
Jack laughed. “Maybe. Now it’s your turn.”
“I don’t know. I’m new to this. Help me out. The only one I know is a T. rex, but it’s a savage meat eater, which is frankly gross, and I’ve always been put off by tiny arms.”
“No tiny arms. Noted. I’m going straight to the gym after this conversation. Hold on a moment—” There was a pause and she could hear voices in the background and then the click of a door closing. “Sorry about that. There are people who think I’m here practicing law, so I have to keep up the pretense. Where were we? Oh yes, dinosaurs. I think you’d like the diplodocus.”
“Is that a savage meat eater?”
“No, it’s a herbivore. Intimidating on the outside, but gentle on the inside. A bit like you.”
“You find me intimidating?”
“You’re forgetting I’ve seen you naked. No one is intimidating when they’re naked.”
She hadn’t forgotten. In fact, she’d thought about it a great deal more than she would have liked.
“I had no idea you were a dinosaur expert.”
“If you’d asked me when I was seven I could have told you anything you wanted to know. I wanted to be a paleontologist for a short time, until I realized that the ratio of digging versus drama was heavily loaded toward the former.”
Their conversation was still light, but they both knew they were dancing around something much more serious.
“So—” He broke the silence. “I assume you called for a reason. Give me the date.”
“The date?”
“Of the event you want me to attend. Black tie?”
She was invited to so many things, most of which she didn’t accept. It would be easy to pick one and use it as an excuse to get together.
But she didn’t want to make an excuse.
“I don’t have a specific event in mind. That wasn’t why I called.”
“Then why don’t you tell me why you called?” His voice was like a caress, and she pressed her fingers to her neck, imagining the brush of his mouth against her skin.
“The last time we saw each other—” She paused, swallowed. “I’ve been thinking about it.”
“Mmm?”
She stared out the window, wondering why she was finding this so hard. “I was thinking that next time we get together, you could leave a few things at my place. A toothbrush. Whatever.”
There was silence, and for a moment she wondered if he’d heard her.