Every black skirt Rebecca Peters owned lay spread out on her bed as she stood in the closet trying to decide between a sexy little camisole and a more conservative sweater. She was seriously leaning toward conservative when the phone rang.
Still clutching the tops, she glanced at the caller ID on the phone on the nightstand a second before she snatched up the handset.
âJack. Hi,â she said, holding the phone with her shoulder while she held up her two choices for her date with him. âI was just thinking about you. Did you decide where you want to go for dinner?
âJack?â she asked after five seconds of dead silence.
âIâm here,â Jack Lever finally replied, hesitation heavy in his tone. âI came by to see you a while ago, but you werenât home.â
âI was at the printerâs. They didnât have my copies ready, so I had to wait.â
âYeah, well, itâs probably better this way, anyhow.â
It was her turn to hesitate. âWhatâs better?
The faint rushing sound on the other end of the line sounded suspiciously like an uneasy expulsion of breath.
âJack. Youâre a lawyer.â He was also the stepson of the man she thought was her father, which was why sheâd wanted to get to know him in the first place. Jack didnât know that, though. No one did. But her reason for having come to Rosewood was beside the point at the moment. âWords are your business.â Now uneasy herself, she sank to the edge of the bed. âWhat are you trying to say?â
âThat I donât think itâs fair of me to waste your time,â he finally admitted. âYouâre a great girl, Rebecca. But Iâve got a lot going on with work and my kidsââ
ââand you donât have time for a relationship,â she concluded for him. At least, not a relationship with her.
She heard him draw a breath. âYeah,â came his relieved reply.
She couldnât believe this was happening. She had only asked the other women on Danbury Way about the widowed father of two because sheâd wanted to confirm his background. Never had she intended for Jack to misconstrue her interest and ask her out. Not on a date date, anyway. But one dinner had led to another and now here he was breaking up with her when she hadnât planned on being attracted to him that way to begin with. All sheâd wanted was to get to know him to seek his help meeting Russell Lever, his stepfather. Russell was the reason sheâd come to Rosewood. He was her father. At least, she thought he was. Yet, not only had she not met Russell, she was being dumped. Again.
She was back on her feet. âNot a problem.â She absolutely refused to let him know that what he was doing mattered to her in any way. If she possessed any talent at all, it was her ability to appear unfazed by what wounded her. âYou take care. Okay?â
âYeah. Sure. You, too.â
ââBye, Jack.â
Punching End Call before he could say goodbye himself, she stuck the handset back in its base and turned to gather her clothes.
She didnât head for her closet, though. Once sheâd snatched up everything, she simply stood there, hugging her skirts while hurt slowly spread through her.
For all her bravado, she didnât feel unfazed at all.
In the front yard of her leased house on Danbury Way, Rebecca took another swipe at the leaves with her rake. She had no idea how many leaves an oak tree could produce, but the one gracing this particular patch of lawn was shedding them by the ton.
She was so not into yard work, but the job had to be done. It also gave her something to do while she forced herself to accept that she, Rebecca Anne Peters, a still-single, twenty-eight-year-old freelance fashion writer who possessed excellent taste in clothes and hideous taste in men, was never going to find the security and happiness all of her friends had found. Most of them, anyway. Angela Schumacherâs life was a bit of a struggle. But her best friends in New York were all now married, engaged or seriously involved and none of those options was ever going to be available to her. What had happened with Jack a few days ago had proved that in spades.
It wasnât as if sheâd fallen in love with the guy, she reminded herself as she attacked the leaves. Sheâd only liked him. So at least sheâd been spared having her heart ripped out and handed back to her. Still, sheâd been left feeling totally embarrassed and rejected.
The awful sensation seemed all too familiar. It also brought back the numb, hurt and sick feeling sheâd been left to cope with after Jason Cargill had broken up with her six months ago. Sheâd spent two years dreaming of a future with that man only to have him inform her on their way home from a movie that they were over. Two months to the day heâd said he had never really loved her, he had married someone else.