When You Were Mine [Second Chances 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) (4 page)

His heart sank a little when he read her reply. “I don’t think I’m equipped for anything right now other than friendship.”

“Then I’d very much like to be your friend,” he responded.

There was a lengthy pause before his phone buzzed again. He picked it up and read, “I’d like that. It was great to see you tonight. I hadn’t realized how much I missed you.”

“I’m back for good, now. So we can remedy that anytime you’d like,” he typed.

There was another long pause before she said, “Then let’s grab lunch some day this week? And shouldn’t you be unpacking? You’re procrastinating, aren’t you?”

He snorted as he read her reply and then typed back, “Lunch sounds good. Let me know when. As for the unpacking, I’m transparent. What can I say? I’m going to go finish, since you called me out. It’s just principle now. Talk to you soon.”

“Night :),” she responded back.

It hadn’t been the exact outcome he’d hoped for, but he could work with that. And, even if he couldn’t work with that, at least they could be friends. It was something.

He plugged the phone back into the base of the stereo and started the music again. He’d unpack the rest of these damned boxes if it killed him.

* * * *

Around eleven the next morning, his phone rang insistently, waking him from a very nice dream. He picked it up, bleary-eyed and didn’t recognize the number. He fumbled with the button, then sent it to voicemail.

Jamie pulled the blanket back up and slammed the pillow down over his eyes to block out the light that streamed into his bedroom. Fuck being awake. There was time for that later. Much later.

He finally surfaced around two in the afternoon. He wasn’t normally this lazy but he’d decided to unpack everything. He hadn’t gotten to bed until almost five in the morning. It was done though. All he needed to do was to hang some shelves and pictures.

By the time he was showered and dressed, it was almost three. His stomach growled loudly. As he checked his messages, he contemplated what he was going to do to fix that.

He had one text from Evan asking how the walk down to the car had gone. Nosy bastard. Jamie shook his head and ignored it. Also, one voicemail from the unknown number.

Curious, he dialed and listened. A voice came over the line and said, “Hey, Jamie. Steve Lutz. Ran into your brother Michael a little bit ago and he gave me your contact info. Gimme a call now that you’re back in town. Let’s grab lunch or something.”

A grin on his face, he thumbed through the missed call log and dialed.

A few rings later, Steve picked up and said, “Jamie Connolly. Holy shit. How are you, buddy?”

“Not too shabby. Glad to be home. How about you? Shit. It’s been ages!”

Another half hour passed before he managed to get off the phone. Steve had been officially invited to poker and he needed to run to the grocery store immediately. Everyone would be here in less than two hours and he had four beers, some cold cuts, and a half-eaten pizza in his apartment.

The pizza solved one problem, though, he realized. He grabbed a slice out of the box and took a bite as he searched for his keys.

After a quick trip to the grocery store, he was armed with snacks, drinks, and some actual food for the coming week. He was balancing the last load of bags against the door when he heard a familiar voice say, “Hey. Let me grab that for you.”

Steve walked up and grabbed one of the six-packs that was perilously close to sliding out of his grasp.

“Thanks, man. Should’ve gotten a place with an elevator,” he said as he turned the key and opened the door. “Come on in. Thanks for coming over.”

Steve laughed and said, “You said free food and poker. I’m easy.”

Jamie shook his head as he stashed the beer in the fridge and said, “Good to know. So catch me up. What’s been going on? Still repairing computers out of your mom’s garage?”

“Christ no! Do you have any idea how hard it is to get laid when you’re twenty-three and living with your mom?”

“Thankfully no. I stayed in the dorms during school and there was no way I was going back to live with my folks after that.”

Jamie put away the rest of the cold stuff, then grabbed a beer for himself. He looked up at Steve, who was perched on a barstool and said, “Want one?”

He waved a hand and said, “Nah. Sober three years.”

“Oh. Okay. Is this gonna bother you?” Jamie asked.

“Nope. Have at it, brother.”

“If you’re sure,” Jamie said. Then he asked, “Want water? A soda?”

“Water’s good.”

A second later, he grabbed the bottle and passed it over. Taking a swig of his beer, he said, “Let’s move into the living room. Those stools suck.”

Steve snorted and said, “Yeah. I didn’t wanna say anything but my ass is kinda numb already.”

“In my defense, the one in the store was much more comfortable than those are.”

“Yeah. That’s how they lure you in. It’s been broken in by a million asses before you sit in it. When you get it home and take it out of the box, it’s hard as a rock and wobbly,” Steve said.

“Ah, so you shop at Davison’s too, then,” Jamie said with a smirk.

“I’ve got the same fucking stools,” he said with a laugh.

When they had settled in the living room, Jamie said, “So shit. Catch me up. What have you been doing since I last saw you?”

Steve sat in the overstuffed chair and ran a hand through his wildly curly hair. “Hm. Let’s see. I sold cars for a while. That worked out for me. Too well. When you’ve got a shit ton of disposable income and you’re not entirely happy, you spend it on a lot of dumb stuff. Hence the sobriety. I was married. Got divorced. Quit the car sales, went back to school, and started an accounting firm. It’s not the most exciting job but it’s going pretty well for me. Enough money to live on, more clients than I can handle. Adulthood, I guess.”

“I’m glad you were able to get it together. Some people never do,” Jamie said, still surprised. The Steve that he remembered had been a casual drinker. It was hard to reconcile all of this in his brain. A lot had changed since they’d hung out last, he supposed.

“What about you? I’m glad to see you didn’t turn into some yuppie,” Steve said, his lip curled in disgust.

Jamie laughed and said, “Didn’t have time to spend any of that money. I was working, like ninety-hour weeks most of the time. Got tired of being fucking tired all the time, and I hated New York. Decided it was time to come home. I missed my family.”

“I get that. Couldn’t leave my mom,” Steve said. After a moment he added, “But it’s cool that you did. I’m not judging. It isn’t like she didn’t have several backup children.”

Snorting, Jamie said, “Thanks. I think?”

Steve grinned unrepentantly at him. Ignoring the obvious sarcasm, he said, “You’re welcome, buddy. Here to help.”

When there was a knock on his door, Jamie stood up and said, “And there’s one of the backup children now. Who will it be?”

“Evan,” Steve guessed. “He was always habitually early.”

Jamie opened the door to find Evan standing there with a casserole under one arm, and a six-pack in his other hand.

“Hey. Come on in, Ev. Should I take those?” Jamie asked.

“I’ve got the beer, but the casserole is a little warm. Be careful,” Evan said as he walked through the door.

Jamie said, “Thank your wife for me profusely, please. You remember Steve Lutz, right?”

Evan zeroed in on the man sitting the overstuffed chair and said, “Hey Steve! Long time. How the hell are you?”

Over the next few hours the rest of his brothers arrived and then settled in for a lengthy game of poker. Between the eating and the bullshitting, the game didn’t wrap up until almost ten. Jamie grinned smugly as he collected the winnings and said, “I am victorious!”

Evan and Steve rolled their eyes as he had cleaned them both out with the last hand. Donnie, Bruce and Michael had all lost earlier in the evening and had taken off when the game started to drag on.

Evan made a face and admitted, “Your poker face has gotten better.”

Jamie grinned and said, “Several years being a corporate shill will do that to a man.”

“It got you to where you are today,” Steve joked. “Now you get to hire underlings to be your corporate shill. Speaking of work, I have an early day. You owe me a re-match, Connolly.”

“Fair enough, buddy,” Jamie said, pulling him into a one-armed man hug. “Don’t be a stranger.”

After Steve left, Evan said, “So…”

Jamie said, “Out with it, you nosy bastard. I know what’s coming.”

“How’d the walk downstairs go? You guys seemed pretty cozy,” Evan asked.

“We were for a minute, but then she kind of shut down on me. I didn’t think I’d feel the same as I always did but seeing her again hit me like a freight train. I figured we’d make awkward conversation and then move on. She’s a little more guarded than I remember. I get the impression that’s not entirely my fault though,” Jamie finished, subtly fishing for information.

“It’s not.”

“Could you be a bit more specific?”

“Not without breaking my word to Taryn,” he said.

“Shit.”

“Sorry. Wife,” he answered.

Jamie ran a hand through his hair and said, “I get it. I get it. I can’t ask you to do that.”

“However,” Evan continued as if Jamie hadn’t spoken. “If a man were to do an internet search for her name, I’m thinking he could get the general idea.”

“The internet?” Jamie asked, confused.

Evan nodded and said, “Very public, and very gruesome. On that note, I’m going to head home. Do me a favor and drop off that casserole dish when you’re done with it. Taryn will kick my ass if you don’t return it.”

“Will do.” Jamie hesitated a moment before adding, “Taryn’s a little scary when she’s pregnant. I feel like she could probably take you if she tried.”

“You’re probably right,” Evan said, grinning. “God, I love that woman, though.”

“I know you do. Thank her profusely for me, please and tell her I’ll bring her dish back later this week,” Jamie said as he walked with Evan toward the door.

As soon as Evan had gone, Jamie moved over to his laptop. Pulling up a web browser he did a quick search for Cora’s name. Several
L.A. Chronicle
articles topped the listing. Unable to stop himself, Jamie clicked on the first link and his eyes widened.

“Mayoral Candidate Bryce Wallace Caught in Cheating Scandal.”

He skimmed the article and slowly exhaled. Cora had been engaged to a complete asshole, apparently. He’d been caught fucking two women at the same time. Neither of which had been Cora. The papers had turned it into a huge story, complete with artfully blurred-out pictures.

They’d tried to interview her about it, but he hadn’t seen any direct quotes from her in the two articles he’d read. He suspected that she’d told them to go to hell.

They had painted her as a scorned, jilted lover. In the pictures that they had taken of her, and there had been more than a few, she’d always seemed more embarrassed than anything. It was clear to see it on her face, knowing her like he had, but the press had written whatever seemed the most interesting.

Jamie couldn’t even imagine what that had been like to have kind of public humiliation splattered all over the papers. Cora had always been a very open person, but it must have been
brutal
. No wonder she wasn’t equipped for anything other than friendship.

His eyes moved up the page as he took in the date. Shit. Six months ago.

He continued to skim some of the articles about her. Some were dated as recently as last month. They talked about her putting on a brave face and moving on. There were pictures of her trying to dodge them as she got into her car in front of what looked like a house, too. Jesus. Had they been camping on her lawn?

Jamie shook his head and closed the browser window in disgust. He stood up, deciding he couldn’t stomach any more and set the open laptop on the coffee table. He moved into his kitchen then began to throw away the bottles, cans, and pack away yet another semi-cold pizza. Between the casserole and all this pizza, he wouldn’t be running out of food any time soon.

Once he had cleaned up, he slumped in the armchair with his lap top in tow again. Donnie had mentioned earlier that Patty had sent him an e-mail with several properties to look at for the business. He was able to research them online and see some photos. He discarded a few right out of the gate. Some were too big, some were too small. One was in an area he wouldn’t want to park his car, let alone send clients to.

That left five offices to look at. One in particular looked promising. It was a smaller sized office complex with abundant parking. The walls could use some paint, but otherwise it was perfect. There was a small office, a larger area that could be used as a conference room, a bathroom, and a small kitchenette area.

Cora sat on the warm metal bleachers alongside Taryn as they watched her oldest, CJ, at tee-ball practice. She idly checked her phone for texts again, then set it down next to her.