Just a Whisper Away. Lauren Nichols
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gave him another of her tickled-pink looks as he walked around his desk to stand beside the door. “I’ll just do that.”
The polished pine hall beyond the door wasn’t long, but when Abbie appeared a moment later, Jace still had time for a good look. Topped by a long, snow-white knitted scarf, her knee-length black-and-gray herringbone coat hung open, and beneath it she wore black wool slacks and a pearl-gray turtleneck. Parted in the middle, her long auburn hair curved around her forehead and high cheekbones, then fell sleek and shiny on either side of her upturned collar. She looked expensive. And very beautiful.
“Hi,” she said quietly, and Jace decided she’d come bearing white doves and an olive branch.
“Hello, Abbie.” When she’d stepped inside, he closed that always open door.
“The place looks good, Jace. Bigger, more organized. I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks. We’re doing all right.” Even when he’d worked here as a logger, the company had been a viable business. Now, with all the improvements and newly erected kilns, Rogan was quickly becoming one of the most respected logging and lumber companies in Northwest Pennsylvania. And, thank God, profits were good. Between Ty’s talent for finding new customers, and a cherry-, oak-and maple-hungry public, they’d never had a problem meeting their mortgage payments.
But he’d bet their new skidder she wasn’t here to check out the place.
“What’s on your mind?” Her dark eyes looked a little tired, and considering the night he’d spent, Jace felt a run of satisfaction.
“You know why I’m here. That business last night was awkward.”
“If you want an apology because I used you to get to your father, you’re not going to get one. I figure we’re even now. You used me, I used you; quid pro quo.” He returned to his desk, then nodded toward the chair and the white mug on her side of it. “Have a seat if you want. The coffee’s yours. Ida brought it in.”
“Thank you, but I won’t be here long enough to drink it. I came to apologize for a very stupid thing I did well over a decade ago. I tried to explain then, but you wouldn’t hear me out.”
“Abbie, it’s been way too long to get into all of this again.”
Her soft tone nearly got to him. Nearly. “Has it? It didn’t seem that way last night. It’s time we put this thing behind us.”
Jace felt his nerves knot. He thought he had put it behind him. Then he’d seen her father’s smugly approving smile as she’d danced with an acceptable suitor, and his old outcast status had risen up and grabbed him where he lived.
“Whatever. I don’t feel the need to go into it, but if you have something to say, the floor’s yours.”
Frustration lined her face for a second, then she let it go and moistened her lips. “You know what a control freak my dad’s been since my mother died.”
He nodded, thinking that was putting it mildly.
“I needed some space from that. I know raising a daughter alone had to have been an enormous responsibility. But I was just so tired of being told what to think, what to say and who I could and couldn’t see that I had to make it clear to him that I was an adult now—and I was going to live my life in my own way.”
“So you decided to bed me in your gazebo and wait for your dad to come home.”
“No! Maybe I did coax you back to the house so he’d find us together. But not consciously, and not in the scheming, conniving way you think. I cared about you, Jace. I wouldn’t have slept with you just to spite my father. In fact, once we started making lo—” She halted before she finished the word. “Well,” she said, dropping her voice, “my father was the furthest thing from my mind.” She glanced down at the black leather gloves she held, then met his eyes again. “And, if you’ll recall, I only suggested that we take a swim.”
Yes, that’s what she’d said that night. She’d said there were spare swim trunks in the cabana—that he didn’t even have to go home to get his. Then she’d given him the tour of the picnic grotto and gazebo behind the Winslow’s fancy estate, and they’d never made it to the pool.
His intercom buzzed. Holding her gaze, Jace depressed the button. “Yes, Ida?”
“I wouldn’t have disturbed the two of you for the world, honey, but there’s a lawyer on the phone.”
“Our attorney?”
“No, one of those personal injury lawyers. It’s about the accident.”
Jace swore softly. “Get his number and tell him I’ll call him back.”
Abbie watched him break the connection, then briefly massage the tension over his eyes. “Trouble?”
“Maybe. One of our men was hurt yesterday, and it looks like he’ll be laid up for a few months. The thing is, we’re friends. It’s not like him to latch on to an ambulance chaser.”
Abbie let the reference slide. By now, she was used to snide remarks and lawyer jokes. “If you’re covering his medical expenses, and the equipment he was using wasn’t faulty, you probably don’t have much to worry ab—” She stopped herself. “Sorry, occupational hazard. You have your own attorney. It’s not my place to comment.”
“That’s right,” he said glibly, “it isn’t. God knows I wouldn’t want you to do anything unethical.” But despite his words, the implication was that she had. Fourteen years ago. And to her chagrin, it hurt.
Abbie drew a breath and let it out silently. All right, she’d tried. Now it was time to go. He still believed she’d orchestrated that awful night, but with all the turmoil in her life now, she had to take her own advice and let it go, no matter how much she wanted to resolve this. She just didn’t have the energy to fight wars on two emotional fronts.
Clearing her throat, she buttoned her coat and pulled on her gloves. “Know what?” she murmured. “I should have my head examined for coming here. Lately, everything I do with the greater good in mind backfires badly. Goodbye, Jace.”
Jace watched her open the door and walk to the front of the building. Then the illogical urge to follow her pushed him out of his chair. He still didn’t believe her story, but he could’ve treated her better.
Ida buzzed him again as he rounded his desk. He jabbed the intercom button.
“It’s that lawyer again, Jace. He wants the name of the company’s attorney. He said he doesn’t have time to sit on his hands waiting.”
“Tell him I’ll call him back in ten minutes,” he returned impatiently. “If he gets nasty, hang up on him, and if he phones again, don’t pick up. Check the caller ID before you answer.” Then he strode out to the reception area, and stood at one of their new plate-glass windows.
Outside, two six-foot-high, carved-wood grizzlies flanked the door. The wind gusted around them, picking up clouds of snow and nearly obscuring the mammoth steel buildings housing the kilns and sawmill. Then taillights flashed red in the grainy mist and Jace knew he’d missed her.
Swearing under his breath, he retraced his steps, picking up curious looks from their staff forester and a couple of guys from the mill.
“Ida,” he said, approaching her desk, “get our new friend on the phone for me, please. Then track down Ty. If he’s not at his place, he’s probably with the girl from last night.”
“Ginger.”
“Yeah, her,” he said, annoyed with Ty’s cavalier lifestyle and wondering why his equipment hadn’t fallen off yet. “I know this is his late day, but tell him I need him now. Playtime’s over.”
You’re just ticked off because it’s been six months since you got laid.
Probably, he decided, entering the rear office and dropping into