Trouble in High Heels

Chapter Five

“You’re headstrong and you won’t compromise,” Jackson continued, infuriating her even further.

“What you mean to say is I won’t cave to instructions just because they’re given to me by a man. I’m trying to remember the last time someone working for me said something so rude to me.”

His eyes darkened. “Don’t pull rank, Lori. You’ve turned this into a circus, and I’m just trying to keep it within three rings. Part of the success of my assignment will be based on your expectations. If you don’t know what your expectations are, then you need to figure them out and tell me.”

But that was the problem, she thought, balling one of her fists and swallowing the urge to shriek. She’d already figured out she didn’t want to overthink this. She just wanted to do it. “I want a polite, discreet, and clean man who will sign an agreement to be married to me for six years, who will accept a settlement of divorce and then get out of my life.” She refused to talk about it anymore. The intense discussion was upsetting her stomach, or maybe it was the expression in Jackson ’s eyes. “And stop judging me. You’ve never walked in my shoes.”

He glanced down her legs at her high heels and his lips twitched. “I can’t disagree with that.”

“Hallelujah, have we actually found something we agree on?” she said more to herself than him. He unnerved her. She’d been in his presence only a little longer than ten minutes, and she was already feeling restless. “Okay, I think you have enough to get started. Let me know when you have some prospects for me.” She bit back the urge to say Now shoo. Jackson didn’t strike her as the kind of man to accept shoo-ing.

“Thank you for coming,” she said, reluctantly extending her hand but figuring it was the most polite way to dismiss him.

His large hand swallowed hers the same way his whole persona seemed to dwarf hers. The strength in his clasp was appealing, and while his confidence in himself made her all too aware of her lack of it, she couldn’t fight a grudging admiration. What she wouldn’t give to have that kind of confidence. She wondered how he had gotten it and suspected it hadn’t been the easiest path. Rock solid, so sure. The qualities were so attractive to her. But she knew he was a man who would only marry a submissive, agreeable woman-someone he could control. Not her, she told herself, and she gave his hand a firm shake.

Just as she had for the last few nights, Lori nixed social outings in favor of reading letters from her mother. There were so many it was going to take a while to read all of them. Her mother’s letters were full of warmth and her distinctive wisdom. The early letters, filled with news about Katie and the pets Lori had left behind, made her stomach clutch with emotion.

She glanced around her room, now redecorated in soft tones of mauve and blue, and remembered how when she’d first arrived here she’d been afraid the big bed would swallow her up in the dark.

The doorbell interrupted her reverie and she frowned, glancing at the clock. Nine o’clock. Curious, she rose from her bed with the letter still in one hand and her glass of champagne in the other. She was limiting herself to one glass so she wouldn’t make a fool of herself in front of Jackson again. She walked down the hall and had partway descended the steps when she stopped at the sound of a male voice.

“Speak of the devil,” she murmured to herself, when Mabel allowed Jackson inside the door.

He was dressed in jeans and a dark T-shirt that accented his biceps and the exaggerated V shape of his body. His hair was the same, his face was the same. He was even holding a folder in one of those large hands of his. Without a suit, he seemed even more masculine to her.

As if he felt her studying him, he glanced up at her, and she felt his quick but thorough survey. She wore shorts and a summery tank top. His gaze lingered on the bare sliver of belly the shirt revealed, and she fought the urge to cover herself. Silly, she told herself. She wasn’t naked. She just felt as if she was.

“I have a few prospects for you to look over,” he said.

Surprise rushed through her. “Already?”

“You gave the impression you didn’t want to drag your feet,” he said. “And based on your spending, we need to get moving.”

“Okay,” she said, feeling anything but okay. Nodding, she walked down the rest of the stairs.

He lifted a brow at the sight of her champagne glass and the letter she held. “What did I interrupt?”

“I wasn’t getting drunk,” she assured him. “Just reading some old letters.”

He nodded, studying her face. “From your father?”

She shook her head. “No. My mother. My father-” She stopped, feeling a sharp jab of hurt and anger all over again. “My father kept them from me until he passed away.”

Jackson ’s mouth rounded in a low-voiced “Oh.” He was silent for a long moment that felt thick and full of emotion for Lori. “I could see where that might piss you off.”

She gave a rough laugh. “That would be an understatement.”

“Just how old are those letters?”

“This one’s about eighteen years old.”

He gave a whistle. “And your mom is-”

“Dead,” she finished for him. “He didn’t tell me about that until she had been gone, either. Nor did he tell me about my half brother.” She felt her anger building. When she’d first found out about her mother’s death and her half brother, she’d been angry, but her concern over her father’s heart condition had kept her from letting him have it. Now that he was gone and she was left to deal with his controlling ways, she was having a tougher time forgiving him so easily.

“Well, that puts a different spin on things,” Jackson finally said in a thoughtful voice.

For once, he wasn’t looking at her in disapproval. The knowledge made something inside her loosen and sigh. Confused, she swallowed a sip of champagne. “It’s all pretty complicated.”

He nodded and glanced at the folder in his hand, then the letter in her hand. “What’d your momma say?”

She smiled. “She told me how my kitty cat was doing and how much she and Priss and Delilah missed me.”

“Priss and Delilah?”

“Half sisters. We all had different fathers,” she added. “My mother was always looking for the knight in shining armor to rescue her. She was gorgeous, and men were crazy for her. At least temporarily.” She grimaced, recalling some of the stories her sisters had told her. “Unfortunately, she was a little blinded by her hope in eternal love.”

“And you’re not,” he said.

She shook her head. She couldn’t help feeling a pinch of longing when she looked at her sisters’ happy marriages, but Lori had the strong sense that since she’d had the good life during her childhood, it would be too much to hope for that she would experience eternal love as an adult.

Sure, she’d been obsessed with those singers from the short-lived rock group Extreme, and she’d fantasized about Luke Perry from Beverly Hills, 90210, but she’d never lost her heart to a man. Of course, the fact that her father had threatened every guy she ever dated with his life hadn’t helped matters.

“It’s not that I don’t think it’s possible,” she said. “For other people,” she added. “I just get the impression I might have better odds on a slot machine in Vegas.”

“Lucky with the slots?” he asked, his dark eyes amused. Something about his easy manner quieted her, made her feel less frantic.

She shook her head. “Not at all.”

“Ever thought you might just need some time to figure out what you want for yourself, let alone in a man?” he asked.

Lori didn’t want to go there. She didn’t even want to consider the possibility. “Due to my dearly departed father, I don’t have the luxury of time right now.” She sighed. “I know I want to make this money work for good, and I don’t want to wait.”

He nodded and handed her the folder. “We’re back to square one. Here are your first two prospects. I’ll have more by the end of the week.”

“Thanks.”

He paused a moment. “Don’t drink too much champagne.”

She smiled. She supposed she’d earned his cautionary comment, since he’d witnessed the worst hangover of her life. “I won’t. One glass, two Oreos, and as many letters as I can read.”

“Aren’t those letters depressing?”

Lori laughed. “Depressing letters from Sunny Collins?” She shook her head. “My momma was a firecracker.”

He narrowed his eyes in speculation.

She couldn’t resist prodding him. “What? What are you thinking?”

“Maybe that firecracker gene is hereditary, and maybe your daddy was scared to death of it.”

“Maybe,” she said, remembering her father’s overly protective ways. She’d spent so much of her life not wanting to hurt him that she’d resisted any urge to rebel, with the exception of visiting her sisters and brother once they’d reunited several years ago.

He glanced at the folder. “Those guys have no idea what they’re in for. Be gentle with them.”

Impatience hissed through her. “There’s nothing to worry about. I was raised well. I’ve always been described as well-mannered and polite.”

“That was when Harlan was watching every step you took. Now that you have the opportunity, you may want to-” He paused as if he was searching for the right word and dropped his hand to rest on his hip. “Experiment.”

Distracted by his large hand on his lean hip, she felt herself grow warmer. She dragged her gaze up from his hips, taking in his muscular chest. She’d bet he looked great without a shirt on. She bit her lip in surprise at herself. Her sex switch had been turned to the permanently off position so long, she’d begun to wonder if she was abnormal. And now she was getting turned on by her accountant? How wack was that?

She muffled a sound of strangled frustration. “You’re talking about sex again, aren’t you? I’m starting to wonder if I had you all wrong and if you aren’t obsessed with it. I don’t foresee that I’m going to suddenly go wild, but if I do, don’t worry, I’ll use protection.” She desperately searched for a way to diffuse her strange attraction to Jackson. “Auntie,” she added impulsively.

His eyebrows shot upward. “Auntie?” he echoed.

“Yes. You remind me of a nanny I had for several years. Auntie Pauline.” This was a stretch. “She left just before I started driving, and the last three years, all she did was warn me about boys and sex.”

Scrubbing his forehead with one of his big hands as if her logic was too much for him, he shook his head. “Whatever. You’ve been warned. You’re of age, even if you don’t always act like it. That’ll have to be good enough for me. Let me know what you think of the contenders. I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he said and opened the door.

“Thanks,” she said.

“Just doing my job,” he said, then shot her a dry sideways glance. “Such as it is.”

The following day, Jackson arrived with information on three more contenders. He noticed Lori fidgeted as she reviewed the file contents. She tapped her bare foot on the floor. Her dog, seeming to sense her unrest, trotted restlessly around her feet.

“What do you think?” Jackson asked.

“I don’t know,” she said with a frown. “There’s something missing.”

“What’s missing? You have photographs, family history, health history, education, and financial status.”

She sighed and shrugged. “It just seems like a bunch of facts and numbers. What about their personalities? Their interests?”

The woman was a moving target, and Jackson hated moving targets. “I thought you said since this was going to be a business relationship, their personalities and interests wouldn’t matter.”

“Technically, I guess they don’t. But I would just feel better if I knew a little more about their interests before I see them. Can you do that?”

“Yes. Are you interested in seeing any of them?”

“Not until I have a little more information about their personalities.”

“Anything that you know is a dealbreaker up front?” he asked.

“He needs to be kind. Now that I think about it, even though I’m not going to be emotionally involved with this man, I don’t want to live with someone who isn’t kind.”

“Define kind,” he said.

She gave him a blank look. “Oh, I can see why you would need a definition. Kind means somewhat compassionate, not nasty or sarcastic in a mean way. Kind means polite. Kind means not making a joke at someone else’s expense or being happy at someone else’s failures. Oh, and he needs to be nice to animals. If he’s not nice to animals, then he’s got to be a total loser.” She picked up her Pomeranian and nuzzled his neck. “Right, Kenny?”

Jackson squeezed the bridge of his nose and resisted the urge to run screaming out the door. “I’ll do my best, but some people are experts at covering up a lot of nastiness.”

“True,” she murmured. “Maybe you could get a character reference or two, and if I get serious about one of them, you could do a deeper personal review.”

“Okay, I’ll take care of it this afternoon, give you the results, and maybe we can get a face-to-face tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” she said, her voice filled with uncertainty.

Jackson was ready to toss his notebook on the ground and say to hell with it. “You need to make up your mind. Are you ready to do this or not? If you’re serious about pursuing marriage, you need to get on with it. Don’t get me wrong. I still think it’s a crazy idea and you would be much better off just living by a budget-it would be a maturing experience for you.”

“So will marriage,” she said and took a deep breath. “I’ll be ready to begin tomorrow.”

Two days later, Jackson introduced prospect number one, Allan Sunday, to Lori. He stayed long enough to encourage pleasantries, although pleasantries were difficult because Lori’s dog, Kenny, barked throughout the exchange. As soon as Lori led Allan to the living room, Jackson excused himself.

He stepped into his car, loosened his tie, and shook his head. So, this was what his life had come to? Finding a temporary husband for a kooky heiress. Swearing under his breath, he turned up the volume on the radio, allowing Eminem to express his rage for him.

He hoped Allan would work out. He seemed like a nice enough guy, although a bit on the geeky side. He’d graduated from college several years ago and wanted to start his own business. He had no history of drug abuse, he wasn’t a Romeo, and his record was so clean it squeaked.

Jackson pulled into his new parking space at work and felt a surge of optimism as he opened the glass doors and strode toward his office. Allan met all of Lori’s qualifications. There was no reason prospect number one shouldn’t become Lori’s groom.

“Mr. James, Miss Granger is waiting on line one,” the receptionist told him.

Jackson ’s stomach fell. A call from Lori this soon wasn’t a good sign. “I’ll take it in my office.”

He pulled the door closed behind him and picked up the phone. “Jackson James.”

“Hi, Jackson, this is Lori.”

“I know. Is Allan still there? Did you already reach an agreement?”

She gave a nervous-sounding laugh. “I guess you could say that.”

Jackson felt an itchy irritation climb the back of his neck. “What kind of agreement?”

“Well, Allan had a little problem, and we’re just not going to be able to live together.”

“What could be wrong with him? The guy is perfect. No record, no bad habits.”

“He’s allergic to dogs.”

Jackson groaned.

“It’s a problem. It doesn’t seem like it should be that big a deal, but I keep Kenny with me all the time, and Allan is very allergic. I couldn’t put him through six years of asthmatic reactions. That would be too cruel.”

“Have you considered confining Kenny to part of the house so Allan could have a dog-free zone?”

Silence followed. “Kenny is going to be around a lot longer than any husband.”