Текст книги "The Will"

Автор книги: Kristen Ashley

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And even good-looking, at a glance I knew he wished to be just like Jake. He wanted to have that big man commanding presence, the self-confidence, the manner, but this would always be nothing but a desire. To have what Jake had you had to be born the man he became. You couldn’t want it. You simply were going to be it until you were it.

The other thing that happened was that Donna’s eyes came to Jake and I, took us in quickly with back and forth flicks of her gaze (most specifically our arms around each other), and finally settled on Jake.

“Jake,” she greeted.

“Donna,” he returned.

Her gaze came to me just as I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Ethan was sidling close to Jake.

“This is Josie,” Jake introduced me, unnecessarily indicating I was the Josie he was speaking of by giving me a slight shake.

“Yeah, Lydia Malone’s granddaughter,” Donna stated, her gaze moving the length of me.

“Yes,” I confirmed. “And you’re Conner and Amber’s mother. Lovely to meet you.”

The last was a lie.

It was this because she had once had Jake in the way I wanted him and I had to admit I was envious. I wasn’t proud of that emotion but I couldn’t deny I had it.

It was also a lie because she threw Jake away and I read between the lines of what he told me about their end that this had hurt him and I very much didn’t like that.

It was also a lie because neither of her children had mentioned her once and it was clear at the very least that Amber needed her mother and her mother was not available to her.

It was further a lie because neither Conner nor Amber seemed comfortable in her presence and this spoke volumes.

And last, it was a lie because she had procured a trophy boyfriend who she treated precisely thus. This was likely one of the reasons her children were uncomfortable.

Her having her young man mattered not to me. I had the philosophy to each their own.

However, I didn’t have children but if I did, I would care very much what they thought about the people I spent my time with and if those people were important, I would do what I could to communicate that to my children and make them feel at ease in their presence.

This man didn’t say hello. He barely even approached. And she didn’t introduce him to anyone.

He was on display.

He didn’t matter.

And although Donna was very attractive, I didn’t understand why he would allow her to treat him this way.

She nodded to me and murmured, “Yeah. You too.” Her eyes went to Jake. “Heard you two were an item.”

I braced in order to withstand the blow of Jake correcting her and was more than mildly surprised when he didn’t and remained silent.

She looked back to her kids. “Any chance I’ll see you this weekend?”

“Busy, Mom,” Conner said softly.

She accepted this without comment or apparent rancor and looked to Amber, raising her brows in affectionate inquiry

“Seriously?” Amber asked with some sarcasm and also incredulity.

The Taylors closed in on Amber and I again stiffened at what I read in this action.

“Well, yeah,” Donna, not seeming to read her daughter’s tone or demeanor, replied. “We can do a girls night in tomorrow.” She grinned. “A slumber party.”

Amber’s eyes narrowed angrily before she repeated, “Seriously?”

Donna’s face melted to confusion and she also repeated, “Well, yeah.”

“I haven’t seen you in over a month,” Amber informed her.

That was a long time.

I felt my own eyes narrowing.

“Well—” Donna started.

Amber threw her hand out and declared, “We lost Lydie.”

“Honey—” Jake began quietly, his arm around me loosening and I was certain this was because he intended to go to his girl.

Donna’s expression softened and she said gently, “I know, baby girl. I phoned.”

“You phoned,” Amber spat out. “Once.”

“I—” Donna started again.

But Amber kept spitting. “Save it. We lost Lydie but we got Josie. When we had Lydie, we didn’t need you. Now we have Josie and we still don’t need you.”

Donna looked stricken.

“Amber—” Conner said quietly, warningly but also soothingly.

But it was then Jake moved.

As for me, my mind was at war. I found I absolutely adored what she said at the same time I detested it.

“No!” Amber cried as I felt Ethan get close to me after losing his father who was approaching Amber. Amber lifted up her hand to her dad at the same time I curled my fingers around Ethan’s shoulder. “No,” she repeated, dropping her hand when Jake stopped moving. “I’m good. I’m fine. Everything is just fine. It’s always fine because it has to be.”

She then proved it absolutely was not when her face crumbled and she belatedly attempted to hide this by turning and rushing away.

The Taylors rushed after her.

Ellie gave Conner a look, Conner gave Ellie a nod, and Ellie rushed after her too.

Jake turned to Donna then took four strides to the side, getting out of the lane of traffic of exiting spectators that we had, I hadn’t noticed until just then, been forestalling due to our scene.

As he moved, he caught Donna’s forearm and tugged her along with him.

I didn’t know what to do outside of taking the drama out of the main thoroughfare so I shuffled with them, shuffling Ethan with me.

The silent man that belonged to Donna didn’t make a peep as he moved two feet to the side. He also didn’t even look askance at Jake’s hand on Donna’s arm.

And last, Conner moved with us, his eyes sharp on his mother and father.

With one look at Jake’s face, I had the feeling that an emotional situation was about to worsen significantly.

“Not now,” I heard Jake growl, “but when we don’t have an audience, you and me gotta talk.”

“Jake—” she started, looking up at him still appearing stricken but also bemused and I could not imagine how the latter could be.

She had to know that not seeing her daughter for a month was wrong.

“Shut it,” he clipped and looked to Conner. “Take Josie and your brother and find Amber.”

“I got things to say to her too,” Conner replied.

Oh dear.

I put pressure on Ethan’s shoulder in preparation to exit this scenario when Jake demanded, “Get your brother and Josie outta here.”

Conner ignored his father and looked to his mother. “She needs you.”

“Honey—” Donna again began but got nothing out.

Conner interrupted her. “You need to pull your finger outta your ass and soon, Mom, or you’re gonna lose her forever.”

On that, her mouth dropped open but Conner was done. He turned to me and Ethan but his eyes only sliced through me before he looked down at his brother.

“Come on, Eath,” he said, holding out a hand.

Ethan ran to him.

Conner then looked to me. “Stay with Dad,” he ordered rather bossily and then he took his brother’s hand and they were away.

I looked to Jake.

Jake was scowling at Donna.

“I hope he does it for you,” he said in a deadly quiet tone, his head jerking to the man who still had nothing to say. “I really hope he does. ‘Cause what he gives you has got to be worth what you’re losin’ if you don’t fuckin’ clue in and soon.”

She opened her mouth to say something but this time she didn’t even get a word out before Jake prowled to me, claimed me with an arm around my shoulders again and guided me firmly to the now light traffic exiting the stadium.

I gave it some time for Jake’s mood was encasing us in its heated grip and I felt I needed to give him that time to sort through his thoughts.

When his mood didn’t dissipate (in the slightest), I ventured, “Are you all right?”

“She’s a good woman,” he strangely replied. “No joke, Josie. She’s a good woman who loves her kids. I know this. So I don’t get this kick she’s on.”

Cautiously (very cautiously), I reminded him, “You also didn’t get the kick she was on that ended your marriage.”

His arm gave me a squeeze. “Yeah. That’s the God’s honest truth. Fuck, but that woman needs to learn how to communicate. And Con’s right. She also needs to get her finger out of her ass.”

Although I knew very little, from what I’d seen it appeared he and Conner were right.

Therefore, I whispered, “Indeed.”

“My girl’s had a tough night,” he murmured, his voice lower and deeper with feeling.

I looked up at him to see his eyes aimed at something so I looked that way and saw Amber at Jake’s truck surrounded by her brothers and friends.

I was still whispering when I agreed, “She has.”

Jake stopped us some distance away and looked down at me. “Was gonna drop Eath at home seein’ as Amber and the Taylors were gonna hang there tonight after the game. Then I was gonna go hang with you at your place. But I need to be home for my girl.”

I liked that he had intended to hang with me and I had many ideas of what we could do while hanging. Ideas of things we’d never do.

Even so, it would be lovely simply to share a drink and a quiet conversation in the light room again.

But he was right. He needed to be there for his girl.

I nodded.

Then I found myself blurting, “I still have cream puffs.”

Jake’s brows drew together. “Come again?”

“Well,” I began to explain. “You have some experience with women so it’s probably has not been lost on you that often when women face difficulties, food has a calming influence. Food and friends. The Taylors, Conner and his girl, Ethan, you…all of you can come to Lavender House because I have plenty of cream puffs and they’re still delicious.”

At that, Jake’s face gentled, and he stated, “And that way, you can also see to my girl.”

Yes.

And that way, I could also see to Amber.

I said nothing.

He started us moving again, murmuring, “Cream puffs it is, Slick.”

Cream puffs it was.

And as it was, I felt better.

I just hoped cream puffs, friends and family would make Amber feel the same.

Chapter Twelve

Coming Out of My Skin

The next morning, I wandered through the kitchen in my robe and nightie, going straight to the coffeepot. I hit the button to turn it on and heard it immediately start gurgling. I then pulled down a mug, grabbed a packet of sweetener and went to the refrigerator to get the milk.

I set the milk on the counter by the waiting mug, turned my back to the counter and leaned against it, aiming my eyes out to the gray day and stormy sea.

All of this, I did smiling.

I did it smiling because the cream puffs last night had worked.

I found the Taylors had been to Lavender House with Amber (repeatedly) and were glad they had the chance to come back. I’d also found that Ellie had never been and she’d always wanted to see the house (and loved it—her words, her emphasis).

By the end of the evening, with all of us gathered close around Gran’s kitchen table, we’d consumed cream puffs and hot cocoa and everyone, including Amber and Ellie, had ended up laughing, tickled by the absurd conversation led by Ethan, who seemed determined to entertain us. And he did.

I also studied the view smiling because when the night had finally come to an end and I’d walked them all to the door, Jake was the last to leave.

When he hit the door, he’d stopped and dipped his head to me, his smiling lips not brushing my cheek, his rising hand not going to my hair to give my ponytail a tug (as I didn’t have a ponytail, I had my hair up in a chignon at the nape of my neck).

No, instead, his smiling lips had brushed my lips and his hand had risen to cup my jaw when he did so.

Of course, it was just an affectionate brush but it was so lovely, it left my lips tingling in a way that was more pleasant than any kiss I’d ever received. Even far more ardent ones (and it must be said, Dee-Amond was a fabulous kisser and that brush even beat Amond’s kisses).

I’d liked it enough to allow myself one more moment to pretend. Just that one. And I gave myself that moment.

Just that one.

But it was a very, very good one.

When he’d lifted his head, he’d whispered, “Way you took care of my crew tonight, owe you another dinner at The Eaves.”

I’d eat a picnic in Hades with him.

I didn’t share that.

I’d replied, “That’s not necessary, Jake.”

“Oh yeah it is,” he’d returned, giving me a gentle squeeze at my jaw before he released me, murmured, “Later, Slick,” and he was gone.

I’d stood in the open doorway and waved as all the cars drove away.

And I’d gone to bed with hot cocoa and cream puff in my belly, the whisper of Jake’s lips on mine, and I’d slept like a baby.

Now, I had to figure out my day.

The plants in the greenhouse needed tending. I needed to research hiring an accountant, as there were likely inheritance taxes to see to. I also needed to get to a grocery store that was not Wayfarer’s as Ethan’s appetite was such he’d eat me out of house and home and he didn’t really care if his sustenance was gourmet or not.

But before all that, I needed to call Lavon Burkett’s people and procure backstage passes.

And that night, I needed to go watch Jake fight so I needed to find out where the arena was in order to journey there.

On this thought, my phone in my purse on the butcher block rang. I moved to it, dug my phone out of my bag and saw the display heralding the fact that Henry was calling.

I took the call, put the phone to my ear and greeted, “Hello, Henry.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” he replied softly. “How’re you doing?”

“Splendid,” I told him, moving back to the coffee, preparing a cup and resuming my position, back to the counter, eyes to the window, sipping and sharing the events of the day before (sans kiss on the lips from Jake and the way I’d pretended all day).

When I was done, there was a moment of silence before Henry noted, “Seems you’re getting close to this Jake and his kids.”

“They’re all lovely,” I told him as my affirmative.

There was another moment of silence before, cautiously, he asked, “You sure that’s a good idea, honey? Kids can become dependent on someone, especially someone like you and especially if they get someone like you and their mother is absent. When that happens, they don’t need another woman eventually absenting herself, especially a good woman. ”

At Henry’s words, it occurred to me that I hadn’t yet explained the fact that I wanted to slow down and work as often as I could from the light room and thus Jake’s children would have me around more often than not.

But Henry would have me around far less often than usual.

This was not something in my currently content state of mind that I wished to deal with.

So I decided not to.

“Well, it isn’t like communication in a variety of ways is difficult in this day and age, Henry,” I pointed out somewhat misleadingly at the same time leadingly, as in, leading him to understand I could do much for him even if not with him (paving the way for when I decided to broach that subject, that was).

“True,” he murmured.

I changed the subject. “And you? You’re well?”

“You know me,” he replied and I did. This meant he was working a great deal, socializing a great deal and I didn’t ask but it was likely his latest lover had at some point joined him in Italy and thus he was doing other things a great deal.

“You journey to Paris soon,” I noted.

“Yes,” he confirmed.

“And Daniel’s working out?” I asked.

“He’s not you,” Henry answered without really answering although what he said was quite true.

“Indeed,” I agreed just as the house phone rang.

I studied it as I set down my coffee mug, walked to it and asked, “Can you hang on for a moment? Gran’s phone is ringing.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” he answered.

“It’ll probably just be a second,” I assured him. “I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be here,” he said with a strange mixture of gentleness, depth and rigidity that I’d never heard before.

However, my mind was not on Henry but on the ringing phone so I gave it no thought, took my mobile from my ear and grabbed the phone from its cradle on the wall. “Lavender House.”

“Josephine?”

It was Arnold Weaver.

I felt my heart seize for a call from Mr. Weaver could mean anything, and part of that anything could be very bad, and I forced out, “Mr. Weaver. How are you?”

“Arnie, Josephine, I keep telling you, please call me Arnie.”

“Of course,” I murmured.

“Listen, I’ve called the kids and they’re all coming this weekend so Eliza will have quite a bit of company.”

I did not take this as good news.

I also understood what he was saying.

“All right,” I said softly. “I’ll let you and Eliza enjoy your children being home.”

“Thank you, Josephine. I’ll give you a call should…” He paused and it was a long one before he carried on. “I’ll call you later. It’s likely I won’t be going into the office for some time so I can free up your mornings.”

I understood that too.

“Of course. I’ll await your call. Please give Eliza my love.”

“I’ll do that. Enjoy your weekend, Josephine,” he told me and I could hear in his voice that even though his children were arriving, he would not be doing the same.

Still, I wished him, “You do the same, Arnie.”

“Take care, Josephine and”—another weighty pause—“thank you. Eliza looks forward to your visits. It’s just with the kids and grandkids…” he trailed off.

I rushed to assure him, “I understand. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon. ‘Bye, Josephine.”

“Take care, Arnie.”

He disconnected and I put the phone back in its cradle thinking I needed to talk to Jake.

Immediately.

I needed this because I knew Eliza was slipping away and doing it rapidly. I knew that Arnie had called his children to attend her because time was short and thus precious. I knew he was preparing. And I knew that I needed to prepare, and as mad as it sounded, I understood in a way that was absolute that the best way to do that was to hear Jake’s voice.

Alas, I could not beleaguer him with this information. I knew very little of what a boxer had to do to prepare for a fight but I didn’t think it would be good for him to have the knowledge a dying woman was closing in on her passing on his mind, even if he didn’t know her.

I heard Henry calling from my mobile and my head gave a slight jerk.

I’d completely forgotten he was on the line.

I put the phone to my ear. “Henry.”

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

I didn’t want to tell him about Eliza. I didn’t want his reassurances, his compassion, his thoughtfulness, his concern, all of which I knew he’d give to me.

I wanted Jake’s.

“Uh…yes,” I lied. “Just a friend of Gran’s calling.” Luckily, that wasn’t a lie. “Listen, I have to go. I’m still in my nightie and I have some errands to run today.”

“All right, honey,” he replied then asked somewhat strangely, “You’re going to be at Lavender House all weekend?”

“Of course, Henry. Where else would I be?” I responded.

That was, I’d be there (mostly) when I wasn’t at the arena watching Jake (and Mickey) fighting.

I didn’t share that, however.

“Just checking,” he murmured then, louder, “I’ll talk to you later.”

“All right, Henry. Speak with you tomorrow.”

“You will. ’Bye, honey.”

“Good-bye, Henry.”

Without listening to his disconnect, I accomplished my own and immediately scrolled down my phone and hit Jake’s number.

It rang twice before he answered with, “Slick.”

I took in a breath and greeted, “Hello, Jake.”

“How’s your mornin’?” he asked.

“Delightful,” I lied. “How are Amber and Conner?”

“Con’s not up yet,” he told me. “He dropped off Ellie and then they talked probably until two in the morning on the phone. Amber seems fine and this might have to do with the fact that I okayed a sleepover tonight at Taylor’s.”

“Boy Taylor or girl Taylor?” I asked.

“Boy Taylor and the big deal about that is that he’s got a better makeup collection for them to screw around with. Girl Taylor has a better closet of clothes but she’s not Amber’s size so that’s not as fun.”

“Ah,” I murmured with a smile in my voice as one was on my lips.

“That why you called?” he asked.

“Um…no,” I answered.

His voice dropped lower and sweeter when he queried, “Why’d you call, baby?”

“Well, I just wished to tell you to…I don’t know. What do you say to someone prior to a fight? It’s probably not telling them to break a leg.”

I heard his chuckle before, “No. That’s not what you say.”

“Well, whatever you say, I wanted to say that.”

“Kick his ass, mess him up, knock him out, floor him…those are the usuals,” he educated me.

“Well, do all that,” I encouraged.

I got another chuckle before he said, “Good luck also works.”

“Then good luck too,” I stated.

“Can’t not have good luck, you sittin’ ringside watchin’ me fight.”

I blinked at the phone on the wall as warmth swept through me at his words.

And as this warmth spread through me, I realized that as much as I loved how wonderful he was, I was beginning to wish he was a little less wonderful. Jake being so wonderful was making it hard not to pretend I was living in a world where I could experience just how wonderful I actually wanted him to be.

He seemed not to mind my non-response for he went on to inquire, “You headin’ to the Weavers this morning?”

“Well, um…” Drat! Why was I finding it difficult to prevaricate? “Arnie called this morning and asked me not to come. His children are visiting this weekend and therefore Eliza already has a good deal of company and it’s doubtful Arnie will want to go to the office,” I found myself announcing.

This was met with silence.

Then I heard, “Fuck.”

He understood the reason for the Weaver children’s visit.

“I’m sorry, Jake,” I said quietly. “I didn’t wish to tell you. I didn’t want to take your focus off your fight tonight with that kind of news. I know you don’t know them but you worry about me and—”

He interrupted me. “No matter what, babe, it’s on your mind, you need to let it go, you tell me. I don’t give a fuck if I’m set to fight Holyfield, I wanna know.”

Yes, it would be a lot easier if he was less wonderful.

“You doin’ okay with this news?” Jake asked.

“No,” I whispered, again honestly.

“You need company?” he went on.

I didn’t need it. I’d be all right.

That didn’t mean I didn’t want it.

But Jake had a fight so I shouldn’t ask for it.

“No, Jake. I have quite a bit to do today. Once I get started, it’ll take my mind off things. Then I have your event tonight to look forward to. I’m fine.”

“Sure?” he pressed.

“I’m sure,” I told him.

He didn’t respond for a moment then he said, “Okay, baby. You get unsure, you call. Right?”

Oh yes.

It would be much easier if he was less wonderful.

“Right, Jake,” I agreed.

“Shit,” he muttered suddenly then he told me, “Sounds like Con’s up. I wanna have a word with him before he has to get to work. I gotta let you go.”

“That’s fine. I’ll, well…see you tonight.”

“You will, Slick. See you then.”

“Yes, Jake. Good luck and, um…mess him up.”

That got me another chuckle before, “My promise to you, I will, Josie. Later, honey.”

“Later, Jake.”

Unlike Henry, I waited to hear his disconnect before I put down my phone.

I went back to my mug, took a sip of coffee and resolutely turned my eyes to the plants and herbs in Gran’s greenhouse.

I needed to get in there. And I needed to because they did need attention. But I also needed to so I could take my mind off Eliza Weaver, Arnie Weaver and the reason their children were visiting.

But mostly I needed to because I needed to get my mind off just how wonderful Jake Spear was and just how much I needed him to be a little less wonderful.

* * * * *

I was working in the greenhouse when the house phone rang again.

As I’d suspected, I’d managed to procure backstage passes to the Bounce concert in Boston that was to occur two weeks hence. I did this by calling Bounce’s manager and he hadn’t even talked to the band before he said, “No probs, Josephine. We’ll have the Malone party on the list and they’ll be instructed to give you as many passes as you need.”

I’d texted this information to Jake who’d texted back, “Gotcha, Slick.” I’d also texted this information to Amber, telling her to share it with the Taylors so they could confirm with their parents. Her reply was oddly, “SQUEEEEE!!!”

I’d hit the greenhouse and started work but it was no surprise it was not easy to take my mind off Jake. Though I did manage to focus on the less difficult things, such as going to his fight that night and primary to that, what I’d wear.

I’d never been to a fight. I had no idea what attire was appropriate.

It was this that I was thinking when the phone started ringing.

I put down my clippers and headed to the phone, brushing small dead leaves of thyme from my fingers. I grabbed it and put it to my ear.

“Lavender House,” I greeted.

“Josephine?”

“Yes?”

“It’s Reverend Fletcher.”

Slightly surprised, I settled a hip to the counter and said, “Hello, Reverend Fletcher. How are you today?”

“I’m well, Josephine, thank you for asking,” he replied. “I don’t want to take up much of your time but it’s come to my attention you’re looking after Eliza Weaver as well as collecting Ethan Spear from school.”

It was not a surprise that he knew this. Magdalene was a small town but news traveled fast even when one was not in a small town.

What was a surprise was that he phoned and referred to it.

“Yes, Reverend, I am,” I confirmed.

“Does this mean you’re planning to stay in Magdalene for a while?” he went on to query.

“Indeed it does,” I told him.

“That’s lovely news. Ruth and I would enjoy seeing you at services and perhaps you’ll join us for dinner one evening.”

Services would not likely be on my agenda. Although I quite liked the Fletchers and obviously, being Gran’s granddaughter, I believed in God and honored Him (mostly), services tended to occur early. I’d wake up early to work out with Jake but I wouldn’t relish doing it to get dressed up to listen to a sermon.

Dinner would be nice, though.

“That would be lovely,” I said.

“I’m also calling for another reason,” he shared.

“And that would be?” I prompted when he said no more.

“I believe you know Pearl Milshorn?”

“Of course,” I told him. “She’s one of Gran’s closest friends.”

“Yes, well, you also probably know her son is in Portland, her daughter in Bar Harbor and her grandkids are scattered everywhere. She has folks who come in a few times a week to help her with groceries and cleaning and Ruth or one of my parishioners picks her up for church on Sunday mornings but she doesn’t get many visitors. And she walks with that frame so can’t get around easily. I know Lydia visited her once a week if she could, or Pearl came to Lavender House. I’m worried with your grandmother gone she’s getting quite lonely and—”

I interrupted him, feeling terrible I hadn’t thought of this myself. Since I’d been in Magdalene, Pearl had phoned and she’d been one of the few who’d given me a hug at Gran’s funeral. I hadn’t thought of her again since but it was rare when I came to visit Gran that I didn’t see Pearl, even in passing.

I should have thought of her.

Therefore, I interrupted him to say, “I’ll pop by. Look in on her. See if she needs anything and if she’s up for regular visitors.”

I said this but I thought that Ethan seemed rather fond of senior citizens (and pretty much anybody). He might enjoy visiting Pearl and getting to know her and I knew she’d enjoy the same. In fact, being Gran’s dearest friend, he might already know her.

“That would be wonderful, Josephine. Thank you,” Reverend Fletcher said.

“It would be my pleasure. I’ve had many things on my mind, I should have popped by before,” I told him.

“You’re doing it now,” he reminded me.

I was indeed.

“I’ll see you at services tomorrow?” he went on to ask.

This would be doubtful.

Still, I said, “I’ll do my best.”

“Perhaps you can bring Spear and his children,” he suggested.

It seemed he was not only intent on looking after the soul of Pearl Milshorn but perhaps saving one (or several).

“I’ll discuss it with Jake,” I replied, and since I didn’t wish to lie to a pastor, I decided at least to mention it to Jake. If Jake said no, he’d say no but I wouldn’t have committed a sin by lying straight to a man of God.

“Excellent,” he said. “I’ll get Ruth to call you about that dinner. Take care, Josephine.”

“And you, Reverend.”

We rang off and when I put the phone back in the cradle, my mind on finding Pearl’s number and giving her a ring, it jumped straight to Dee-Amond.

And it jumped to Amond for Amond would have the answer to my earlier dilemma.

Therefore, I found Pearl’s number and felt even guiltier at hearing her delight when I greeted her and arranged for a meeting on Tuesday afternoon.

After that, I put the phone in the cradle, moved to my mobile and called Amond.

“Beautiful,” was his greeting.

“Hello, Amond. You’re well?”

“Lagged, girl. Just got to Paris yesterday and that ride kicked my ass,” he answered.

“Sorry,” I murmured, feeling his pain. I’d been jet-lagged so many times it was impossible to count and it was never enjoyable.

“Why’re you callin’?” he asked when I said no more.

“I wanted some advice,” I told him.

There was a moment of silence then, strangely cautiously, he asked, “Advice on what?”

“Well, you see, I’m going to a boxing match tonight,” I shared. This was met with utter silence so I carried on, “And I don’t know what to wear. I’ve heard you mention that you’ve been to the fights and I thought you might be able to advise me on what attire would be appropriate.”

More silence before, “You’re going to a fight?”

“Not one, several. They’ve a league here and the bouts go all day. But I’m hoping to time it so I only have to attend two.”

“You’re going to a fight,” he repeated, not in a question this time.

“Well, yes,” I replied.

This brought more silence before, “And why you goin’ to a fight, beautiful? That’s not exactly your style.”

“I’ve been asked by the fighters,” I shared.

“Fighters…plural?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Both opponents?”

Oh dear.

Neither Jake nor Mickey told me who their opponents would be and they both fought in the heavyweight class.

I hoped they weren’t fighting each other.

Obviously, I’d want Jake to win if this were true. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t want Mickey to lose either. Mostly, I didn’t want to watch them hitting each other.

Yes, I hoped they weren’t fighting together.

“No,” I gave him my hope rather than the true answer, as I didn’t know the true answer. “Just two different fighters.”

To that he murmured, sounding amused, “That’s my Josephine girl, been there a coupla weeks, she’s setting Maine on fire with her ice.”

I felt my brows draw together. “Pardon?”

He didn’t repeat himself or explain, he said curiously, “This is gonna be good.”

“What’s going to be good?” I asked.