We Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus. Brenda Novak
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as though he’d press the issue, but a glance at Cole’s superior size and build seemed to convince him. Throwing a twenty on the table, he grabbed his companion by the arm and stalked out, pulling her along with him.
Before Jaclyn could say anything, Rudy appeared.
“What’s goin’ on here, Jaclyn?”
Jaclyn watched the door close behind the couple, then picked up the money and the bill. “Nothing, why?”
Rudy glanced doubtfully at Cole, who smiled and shrugged.
“That guy was an old friend of mine,” he said, then made his way back to his seat.
WHAT WAS JACKIE RASMUSSEN—Jaclyn Wentworth—doing here, waiting tables?
Cole went through the motions of eating and tried to make a halfway-decent pitch for the funding to do the Sparks project, but he couldn’t concentrate. Seeing Jaclyn brought back the most painful years of his life—memories that crept in between each sentence he spoke, wove through the whole conversation like an invisible thread. For the first time in eight years, he couldn’t shut out Feld and the stifling, hot trailer he’d lived in there, the cloying smell of illness, his poor mother, pale and dwindling, his hungry brothers and absent father. And Rochelle. God, Rochelle. Just the thought of her made his throat feel as if it were closing up.
In a quick, desperate gesture, he loosened the knot of his tie and undid the top button of his shirt.
Larry glanced up at him in surprise. “Somethin’ wrong, Cole?”
“No.” Cole took a deep breath and a drink of water. He was free. Feld was history. Rochelle was on her own. His mother and father were gone…
“Would you like dessert?”
Jackie stood next to him, waiting with her pad. She’d left Feld, too, even though he never dreamed she would. He’d thought she would shackle herself to Terry and live under Burt Wentworth’s thumb forever, or at least until she and Terry inherited his land and his money. All the girls in school had wanted Terry, and the family name and bank account that stood behind him. They’d wanted everything Jackie had just walked away from—for this. Who would have thought it?
“I’ll just have a cup of coffee,” Larry said.
“I’ll have the same,” Cole added, and Jackie soon returned with two steaming cups.
“Will there be anything else?”
Cole shook his head. He couldn’t look at her anymore. When he saw her face, he saw Feld and the desert, and felt things he didn’t want to feel.
“It was good to see you again, Cole,” she said, slipping the check onto the table.
Cole wished he could say the same. “You look great, Jackie,” he said, searching for some scrap of truth to offer.
She smiled, but it was only a ghost of the smile he remembered from high school. “Thanks,” she said. “You always did have a way with the ladies.”
Cole couldn’t tell by the tone of her voice if she meant it as a compliment. But she walked away then, and he was free to pay his bill and go—and pretend he’d never seen her.
JACLYN WATCHED Cole leave and was glad to have him gone. She needed no reminders that her life had turned out far differently from everyone’s expectations, including her own. She faced that fact every day when she put on her uniform, when she had to leave her children with Holly Smith, a young mother who lived down the street, when she wrote a check and knew it would barely clear her account.
Why did I have to run into him here? she asked herself, clearing off his table. Joanna’s patrons paid at the cash register, but Jaclyn could see the edge of a crisp bill—her tip—stuck under Cole’s plate. She slid the money out, expecting ten, maybe even twenty dollars, but found fifty, instead.
She stared at the 5-0 on the bill, amazed and sickened by what it meant. Fifty dollars was pure charity. Cole understood her situation—and he pitied her.
Damn. She was once the prom queen of Feld High. No one had doubted she’d marry Terry and live happily ever after. But she’d achieved no fairy-tale ending. She was divorced with three children and nearly penniless, her situation pathetic enough to make old friends feel obligated to give her money when they saw her.
Tears burned behind Jaclyn’s eyes, and she began to wonder if she’d been crazy to try to escape Terry. She could have continued as his wife—but what kind of life would that have been? She had a right to fight for something better, didn’t she? She longed to go back to school and become a nurse or a schoolteacher, something professional, to prove to herself and others that she could pull out of the tailspin of divorce and loss and regret.
If only she had the time and the money. She had four mouths to feed and bills that couldn’t wait until she graduated from anything. Heck, she had bills that couldn’t wait until payday.
Jaclyn shoved the money in her apron and finished stacking the dishes. Forget Cole, she told herself. He didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except survival. So what if she felt as if the world were closing in on her and she was trying to run through quicksand to escape. She certainly wasn’t the first woman to feel this way.
“Jaclyn?”
Turning at the sound of Rudy’s voice, she found her manager standing at her elbow. At five feet five inches, he was just tall enough to look her straight in the eye.
“Yeah?”
He gave her an insincere smile, revealing eyeteeth that stuck out like fangs. It was her first indication of trouble. His words were the second. “I just had a gentleman call me. He claims a friend of yours threatened him with bodily harm when he was here just a few minutes ago. Can I see you in my office?”
The table next to them stopped eating to watch, but Jaclyn ignored them. Too much fear prickled down her spine to worry about embarrassment now. “That’s not true,” she said.
Rudy nodded his greasy, dark head toward the kitchen. “In my office,” he said, turning away.
And Jaclyn had no choice but to follow.
CHAPTER TWO
“I’M AFRAID I’m going to have to let you go.”
Rudy sat behind his desk, gazing up at her with small eyes that were mere slits in his brown, fleshy face. His belly rested in his lap, and Jaclyn’s personnel file was spread out in front of him.
Jaclyn stood near the open door, leaning against the wall for support, nearly leveled by shock, and horror, and myriad other emotions evoked by the injustice of his actions. “B-but you can’t,” she stammered.
He smiled, proving what Jaclyn had suspected all along. He was enjoying this. This was the moment he’d been waiting for ever since the last time she’d rebuffed him when he’d tried to talk her into coming over to his place after work.
“Actually, I can,” he said, rocking back and steepling his fingers. “I’m the boss, in case you’ve forgotten. And the complaint I just received requires serious action.”
“Serious action?” Jaclyn echoed weakly. “I’ve been a model employee ever since I started almost a year ago.”
“A model employee doesn’t threaten patrons.”
“You know I didn’t threaten anyone. And neither did—”
He held up a hand for her to stop. “A model employee shows up for all her shifts.”
“I’ve never left you hanging—”
“It’s all right here.” He tapped her personnel file. “On August fourth, you didn’t appear for work—”
“I had strep throat, and I called you—”
“You