"Did I come at a bad time?"
"No. Come in. Sorry."
He held the door open while she climbed the stairs up and into the trailer.
"Am I interrupting?" She smoothed loose tendrils of hair back from her face, then took a quick glance at his desk. Papers and blueprints were spread out everywhere, and lots of other paperwork--crumpled up and tossed--littered the floor of the trailer.
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"No. I'm just dealing with some...stuff today."
"Bad stuff?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
Obviously. "I brought lunch." She tried again for a smile.
"Uh, I already ate."
Again, her smile died. "Oh. I'm sorry. I should have called first. I just thought you might enjoy a little break."
"Like I said. It's a bad day, Lucy. I don't have much time for a break."
Heat rose up her neck and cheeks. She snatched up the lunch bag and crushed it between her hands. "I'm really sorry, Jake. I should have called. I just assumed..."
"Well, call next time, okay?"
Oh, God. This hurt. It was like being dismissed by her father all over again. That taciturn look of disapproval, like she was bothering him when all she wanted was a little attention.
You are so needy, Lucille Fairchild. When are you going to get over that?
Never.
The throb of hurt swelled through her body. She wanted to crumple right there, but she couldn't, refused to do it. She'd never let Jake see that he'd hurt her. It was such a silly thing, really. He'd never understand. It wasn't his fault. It was hers.
Tears welled and she had to get out of there before she made an utter fool of herself.
"Of course. I only had a few minutes, anyway. I need to go."
"Lucy..."
"No, really." She already had the door open. "I'll talk to you later, Jake." Just a few steps down and she could make her escape.
"Lucy, wait."
Please, please don't follow me. She felt stupid already. She pulled the door shut behind her and nearly flew down the stairs, grateful she'd worn a pantsuit and flats today.
She made quick time across the gravel yard and onto the sidewalk, hurrying back to the office. Thankfully it was the lunch hour and no one was about. She tucked herself into 116
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her office and shut the door, leaving a message for her secretary that she didn't want to take any calls for the rest of the afternoon. She pulled off her jacket and fell into her chair, tossing the lunch bag on her desk with a grimace.
She grabbed a tissue and wiped away her foolish tears, then leaned back in her chair.
Stupid idea, anyway. What was she thinking? That one weekend of sex and she and Jake were now a couple? That she could just show up on his jobsite and interrupt his day?
He was busy. Just like she was. Instead of mooning over her all day long, Jake was actually doing his job. Which was exactly what she should have been doing today.
Instead, she'd spent the morning thinking about Jake, about their weekend, about the time they'd spent in bed together.
Ugh. She was such a...woman.
Damn estrogen anyway.
They weren't a couple. They weren't even dating, for God's sake. She'd helped him out with his party. They had chemistry together, so they'd made a mutually agreeable decision and had sex. They were both mature, consenting adults who could do what they want. There was no commitment, no relationship.
They had nothing together.
And she thought she was in love with Jake.
She had to grow up, had to stop living out this fantasy where she could find the perfect guy who would swoop in and take all the hurt away.
That kind of guy didn't exist. Not in her world. Maybe he didn't exist at all.
She really needed to get out more. She'd already invested too much of her heart in a man who clearly didn't want the same things.
It was time for her to move on, before she really got hurt.
She spent the rest of the day deeply involved in work projects, which helped to rid her mind of anything and everything having to do with Jake. By the time she got home that night, she felt immensely better.
That is, until she'd changed clothes and went in search of her father, hoping spending the evening with him would be a nice distraction.
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She found her father in the library.
With Alex.
Ugh. As if the day hadn't already been a disaster. She plastered on a polite smile and walked in.
"Alex."
"Lucy. You look lovely, as usual."
"Thank you. What a...surprise to see you here." She couldn't bring herself to call it a nice surprise.
"I had a case to go over with your father, and he kindly invited me over for cocktails."
"I see." She smelled setup. She slanted a glance at her father, who beamed a smile like he was the father of the bride and today was her wedding day.
In your dreams, Daddy.
"We were just finishing up, Lucille," her father said. "I was hoping you'd come home in time."
Lucy arched a brow. "In time for what?"
"To go out to dinner with me," Alex said.
Setup. She knew it. "I'm exhausted, Alex. It's been a really long day."
Alex took her hand and slid it in the crook of his arm. "Nonsense. A nice quiet dinner at an out-of-the-way place, a glass of wine to relax you, and I'll have you home in a couple hours. It's only seven thirty."
Dammit. Why couldn't she be bitchy and just tell him she didn't like him, that she'd rather eat dinner with the servants than share a meal at a fancy restaurant with him? The servants were better company, and infinitely more fun to talk to.
Because she was terrible at saying no. And her father knew it, because he had that knowing smile on his face that said he'd already won.
Besides, what else would she do tonight? Eat with her father, who would no doubt lecture her? Or she could spend the evening in her room moping about Jake and feeling sorry for herself.
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At least spending a couple hours with Alex would take her mind off her own problems. Alex was famous for talking about himself. He'd keep her thoughts occupied by steering the conversation around to all things Alex. And she'd be utterly bored to exhaustion and could then come home and fall into a coma.
Perfect.
"Uh, sure. Why not? But we have to make an early evening of it. I have to be in court first thing in the morning."
"Of course." Alex was already leading her toward the door. "Good night, Ray."
"Good night, Alex, Lucille. You two have fun and don't worry about staying out too late. I'll be fine here."
Oh, sure. He was fine when she went out with Alex, but near dying whenever she was with Jake. Honestly. The man was as transparent as tape.
Alex drove them into the city, one of the newer restaurants serving California food, which meant high-priced meals, very little food on the plate. Lucy would have preferred a cheeseburger. Or maybe barbecue.
Don't think of Jake. Though it was difficult not to, considering Alex droned on and on with talk of himself, his job, his successes, his new car, the house he was buying.
He ordered the very best wine on the menu, the highest price food, then presumed to order her dinner like she was some blithering idiot who couldn't read the menu and decide for herself. Before she could complain about that, he launched into the case he'd won today as if he were the best attorney in the city. He never bothered to ask about her day, her week, her month, anything about her life or how she was doing.
Did everything have to be about him? He could be at the table by himself--or with anyone, frankly--and it wouldn't matter. The man was completely narcissistic and a pretentious snob. She had nothing
in common with him, and the thought of ever marrying a man like Alex nauseated her.
Being with Alex made her miserable.
Surely somewhere out there was the right guy for her.
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No, that wasn't quite right. She had already met the right guy for her. Sitting here having to endure this miserable night with Alex cemented that fact.
She missed Jake. Jake was the right guy for her, dammit.
Where had she gone wrong? It sucked when you cared about someone and they didn't return your feelings.
She counted the hours until this farce of an evening with Alex was over. Tomorrow, she was going to make an attempt to talk to Jake again. She was an attorney, a fighter. A Fairchild never gave up that easy, especially when it really counted.
She hadn't been mistaken about her feelings for Jake. Or for his. So he'd had a bad day. She'd made too much of his mood and let her own feelings of inadequacy guide her.
She wasn't ready to give up yet.
Jake pulled up in front of Lucy's house, knowing this wasn't going to be easy. She was either going to answer the door, and he was going to have to explain his behavior earlier today, or her father was going to answer the door.
Neither situation was going to be pleasant.
He walked up and rang the doorbell. Time to man up and face the consequences.
He'd acted like an ass earlier today. Worse than an ass. So he had a million things on his mind, so several things hadn't gone his way. So he'd been in a bad mood.
His lady had showed up with lunch. He should have dropped everything and paid attention to her. He should have had the decency to at least be grateful.
Instead, he'd been surly, ungracious, and all but slammed the door in her face.
What the hell had been wrong with him, anyway?
Fear, that's what it was. She'd showed up at his trailer, beautiful, smiling, and the first thing he thought was...she was his.
He wanted Lucy in his life, and not just today. He could see having lunch with her every damn day for the rest of his life. And breakfast. And dinner.
Frankly, that had scared the hell out of him.
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Yeah, he'd had a bad morning, but that didn't excuse his actions. He'd deliberately pushed her away because she scared him. His feelings for her scared him. She'd been beautiful, bright and smiling like a woman in love, and she'd scared the shit out of him.
So he'd acted like an asshole.
She should slam the door right in his face. He'd been so rude to her today. It was unforgiveable.
Unfortunately, Lucy didn't open the front door. Raymond Fairchild arched a brow and offered up a distasteful expression.
"Mr. Dalton."
"Mr. Fairchild. Is Lucy home?"
"As a matter of fact, she is not. She's out for the evening with her fiance."
"Excuse me?"
"She went out with Alex tonight."
Not this again. "They're not engaged."
"I beg to differ, Mr. Dalton. She might have dallied with you, but Lucille has since come to her senses and has agreed to marry Alex Sheldon. They're off right now planning their wedding."
Jake crossed his arms. He didn't believe Raymond Fairchild for one minute. "Uh huh. Just tell Lucy I came by."
Waste of time. Her father wouldn't deliver the message. Jake knew that. "On second thought, never mind. I'll call her tomorrow."
Fairchild just smiled, his grin slimy as a snake's. "They're at La Chateau on Market Street if you'd like to check it out for yourself. Good night, Mr. Dalton."
Lucy's father closed the door. Jake turned on his heel and went back to his truck, having no intention of checking out the restaurant where Lucy was allegedly having dinner with Alex. But he found himself jumping on the freeway and doing just that, pulling into an empty spot on the street right in front of the restaurant. Trendy, modern, with glass windows that showed everything going on inside.
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As luck would have it, he spotted Lucy and Alex with the best seat in the house, right next to the front window. Drinking wine and having dinner. Smiling. Talking together.
They made a nice couple. Jake's stomach tightened.
Alex picked up Lucy's hand and pressed his lips to it. Lucy's lips parted, her eyes wide. With pleasure, maybe?
Jake didn't need to see more than that. He pulled away from the curb, realizing he'd been all wrong about Lucy. He might have thrown her out of his trailer today, but it didn't take her long to run back into Alex's arms.
Hell, maybe that's why she'd brought him lunch today--to sit down and break things off with him. Publicly, at his place of work so he wouldn't cause a scene.
Yeah, he was an idiot. Just because you slept with a woman didn't mean she cared about you. Just because you might be falling in love with her didn't mean she returned your feelings.
He had a lot of things to learn about the rich folk.
He should have never taken that walk on the other side of the tracks. He knew where he belonged.
From now on, he'd stay there.
The three hours Lucy had spent in Alex's company were the longest in her entire life. When he'd picked up her hand and kissed it at the restaurant, she thought she might lose her dinner. Really, his attempts at seduction were revolting and something out of a nonfiction book on how to seduce women--blatantly obvious.
She'd sat there, utterly appalled for a few seconds while he pressed his mouth to her hand, then slid his tongue out--yes, he actually licked her. Ew. Shocked, she'd been momentarily stunned and unable to move or utter a word, afraid she'd either scream at him or burst out laughing. She'd finally recovered enough to jerk her hand away and wipe the back of it with the napkin in her lap. When he'd followed up with his best attempt at a smoldering, seductive, look, she'd snorted and masked it by faking a cough.
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The rest of the evening had pretty much gone downhill. Alex had reiterated what a great "match" they'd make together, using words like "partnership" and "merger" until she finally rolled her eyes and told him point blank that she wasn't the least bit interested in him, romantically or otherwise. Then she'd stared out her window the entire ride home, refusing to let Alex walk her to the door. She'd practically run to her front door and hurried inside, locked the deadbolt behind her and peeked out the peephole to be certain Alex wouldn't try to come inside.
Hopefully she'd made her feelings more than clear to him.
"Where's Alex?"
Lucy jumped and let out a squeal at her father's voice right behind her. She pivoted and placed her hands on her hips.
"Good Lord, Father. You scared me. Quit lurking."
"I wanted to see how your date went."
She brushed past him and went into the library, sliding onto one of the leather chairs so she could kick off her shoes. "It wasn't a date. And it was horrible. Alex is a pompous moron. Spending any time alone with him is torture. I don't like him, have nothing in common with him, and if you try to foist him on me again I'll move out. Is that clear?"
Her father glared at her. "Really, Lucille. You've hardly given Alex a chance."
Lucy sighed and leaned forward, wishing she could make her father see reality. "I don't have feelings for Alex."
Raymond snorted. "What do feelings have to do with anything? You two are a good match on paper."
She rolled her eyes. "I want someone to love, Father. How difficult is that to comprehend?"
"Love means you're not thinking with your head. Who do you want, Lucille? That rough construction worker Jake Dalton?"
Yes. "I want someone to love me. I want a relationship based on emotions, not balance sheets."
"Love is messy."
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"Love is perfect." It was like talking to the wall. He'd never understand.
"He was here tonight, you know."
Lucy's head shot up. "Who was here tonight? Jake?"
"Yes. I set him straight though."
Dread dropped her stomach to her feet. She gripped the edge of the chair. "What did you do?"
"I told him you had finally come to your senses and decided to marry Alex, of course. Which is what I thought was going to happen tonight."
She sank back into the chair. "Oh, Father. How could you do that? I'm not at all interested in Alex."
Her father tsked. She really hated when he did that.
"I only want what's best for you, Lucille."
Anger made her shoot to her feet. "No, you want what's best for you. You aren't thinking of me at all. You never do. You don't care about me and what I want. You don't think about me being happy. You think about the firm. You always have."
"You're being ridiculous, Lucille."
"Am I? When did you become so heartless? Was it after Mother died, or have you always been this way?"
Anger mottled her father's face. "Do not speak to me that way. Who is it that you think you want? That lowlife Jake Dalton?"
"He isn't a lowlife. He's built a solid business from the ground up. He works hard and he's successful."
"He's not at all the type of man for you. He's beneath you...beneath us. You could do much better."
Disdain dripped off her father's words. And prejudice. Maybe she'd avoided seeing it all these years, but there it was, plain as day.
"You're a snob, Daddy. You don't even know Jake. You haven't even given him a chance."
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Her father lifted his chin. "Nor do I intend to. It would be a waste of my time. Just as he's a waste of yours."
Tears threatened, and she hated that. Having any further conversation with her father would be useless. She knew she needed to leave before she said something irreparable, something that would tear the fabric of her relationship with her father. She turned and fled from the room and went to her own wing, shutting and locking the door. She threw herself on her bed, feeling like the princess locked in the tower.
Okay, maybe she was being melodramatic, but her father's interference had to stop.
Jake had been right when he'd told her she was too old to be living with her father. She hadn't counted on him manipulating her life to this extent.