changed from my parents to me. Looking out for his family right to the end.”
She let out a long steadying breath. “Long story short, Jack, it wasn’t a responsibility. I needed my niece back then, just as much as she needed me. I still do." She shook herself free of the memories. “Ah, well. Sometimes that’s what life is like, right? What about your dad?”
Jack’s eyes stayed on her, searching. For what, she’d no idea. She was about to call him on it when he said, “He’s living in London. Consults for the Department of Transport there, or at least he did when I last talked to him. It’s been awhile.”
“How long?”
This time, it was him who blew out his breath. “About a month after I came out of the tunnels.”
Another question was forming on Lindsay’s lips when the cab driver halted in front of her apartment block. Before Lindsay could rummage through her backpack for her wallet, Jack lifted his butt off the seat and pulled out a wad of bills from his front jeans pocket, paying the cabbie along with a generous tip, though Lindsay could see it almost cleaned him out. She’d make it up to him, whether or not he knew it.
Lindsay waved to the doorman who looked uncertainly at their scruffiness, until he recognized her. Then he looked very curious. Inside the mirror-paneled elevator, she inspected her face.
“My God! There’s even dirt on my eyelashes.”
Jack didn’t look at his reflection.
After passing down a corridor of rich woods, they reached her door. As she inserted her key, she said in sudden nervousness, “You’ll have to excuse the mess. I do my own cleaning, and I’ve kind of let it go the past week.”
Jack said with utmost seriousness, “I think I can handle it.”
Once in the tiled foyer, Lindsay dropped her pack and hung up her jacket. She took a hanger from the hall closet and reached for Jack’s coat. He skittered a look at her leathers and neat row of painful footwear, and sent his parka wordlessly to the floor, his boots soon following. Lindsay grimly returned the empty hanger to the closet rod, determined not to let his opinion of her things get to her.
“Come on in. Make yourself at home.” She led the way into the living room, making a wide, hospitable gesture. He stood at the entrance to the room in his sock feet, his amber eyes scanning her place in silence. She switched on a few lights, including the Christmas tree, casting her home in a soft glow. As she turned to face him, he was watching her with a strange focus. “Your husband die?”
Lindsay felt her jaw drop open. What business was it of his? “No, we’re divorced.”
“Why?”
She was about to tell him that her failed relationship was out-of-bounds when the irony hit her. If she wanted him to open up, maybe she should start with herself. “Dan and I never had one argument. Not even about our decision to break up. That was why we divorced. Our best conversation was when we admitted that we didn’t love each other.”
“You didn’t figure that out before you got married?”
Lindsay shrugged. “There were no sparks, but we had lots in common. He was a director at an architectural firm. Still is. We talked right before Christmas.”
“You two still talk?”
“Sure. He and Seline are good buddies. I haven’t told him about what has happened to her because I know he’ll freak. He remarried and had a baby boy in September. Seline and I went to the baptism.”
Jack stared. “You two still get together? What does his wife think of that?”
It was Lindsay’s turn to stare. “I introduced her to him. After our divorce, she was a client and I thought they were perfect for each other. Turns out I was right. They’re grateful to me.”
Jack seemed to contemplate the floor for a long time. “Your business, Linds. I’m telling you, if you divorced me, I wouldn’t speak to you again.”
The finality of his words stunned her. “Why do you say that?”
“Because I’d marry for love. Why
She let out a long steadying breath. “Long story short, Jack, it wasn’t a responsibility. I needed my niece back then, just as much as she needed me. I still do." She shook herself free of the memories. “Ah, well. Sometimes that’s what life is like, right? What about your dad?”
Jack’s eyes stayed on her, searching. For what, she’d no idea. She was about to call him on it when he said, “He’s living in London. Consults for the Department of Transport there, or at least he did when I last talked to him. It’s been awhile.”
“How long?”
This time, it was him who blew out his breath. “About a month after I came out of the tunnels.”
Another question was forming on Lindsay’s lips when the cab driver halted in front of her apartment block. Before Lindsay could rummage through her backpack for her wallet, Jack lifted his butt off the seat and pulled out a wad of bills from his front jeans pocket, paying the cabbie along with a generous tip, though Lindsay could see it almost cleaned him out. She’d make it up to him, whether or not he knew it.
Lindsay waved to the doorman who looked uncertainly at their scruffiness, until he recognized her. Then he looked very curious. Inside the mirror-paneled elevator, she inspected her face.
“My God! There’s even dirt on my eyelashes.”
Jack didn’t look at his reflection.
After passing down a corridor of rich woods, they reached her door. As she inserted her key, she said in sudden nervousness, “You’ll have to excuse the mess. I do my own cleaning, and I’ve kind of let it go the past week.”
Jack said with utmost seriousness, “I think I can handle it.”
Once in the tiled foyer, Lindsay dropped her pack and hung up her jacket. She took a hanger from the hall closet and reached for Jack’s coat. He skittered a look at her leathers and neat row of painful footwear, and sent his parka wordlessly to the floor, his boots soon following. Lindsay grimly returned the empty hanger to the closet rod, determined not to let his opinion of her things get to her.
“Come on in. Make yourself at home.” She led the way into the living room, making a wide, hospitable gesture. He stood at the entrance to the room in his sock feet, his amber eyes scanning her place in silence. She switched on a few lights, including the Christmas tree, casting her home in a soft glow. As she turned to face him, he was watching her with a strange focus. “Your husband die?”
Lindsay felt her jaw drop open. What business was it of his? “No, we’re divorced.”
“Why?”
She was about to tell him that her failed relationship was out-of-bounds when the irony hit her. If she wanted him to open up, maybe she should start with herself. “Dan and I never had one argument. Not even about our decision to break up. That was why we divorced. Our best conversation was when we admitted that we didn’t love each other.”
“You didn’t figure that out before you got married?”
Lindsay shrugged. “There were no sparks, but we had lots in common. He was a director at an architectural firm. Still is. We talked right before Christmas.”
“You two still talk?”
“Sure. He and Seline are good buddies. I haven’t told him about what has happened to her because I know he’ll freak. He remarried and had a baby boy in September. Seline and I went to the baptism.”
Jack stared. “You two still get together? What does his wife think of that?”
It was Lindsay’s turn to stare. “I introduced her to him. After our divorce, she was a client and I thought they were perfect for each other. Turns out I was right. They’re grateful to me.”
Jack seemed to contemplate the floor for a long time. “Your business, Linds. I’m telling you, if you divorced me, I wouldn’t speak to you again.”
The finality of his words stunned her. “Why do you say that?”
“Because I’d marry for love. Why
Similar Books
