Can't Get Enough by Connie Briscoe Page B

legs below her short pink skirt. “I’ve noticed that, too. It’s almost like when we first met and we were just getting to know each other. Remember?”
    “How could I forget? You were only seventeen, pregnant by some dude and frightened out of your wits.”
    “Until you came along.” She gently brushed the tip of her shoe against his pant leg. “It felt like I had suddenly found someone who understood me and could protect me. I still sometimes feel like you’re the only person who really understands me.”
    He shrugged. “We were married for twenty years, Jo. I probably do know you better than anyone else.”
    “But it’s more than that. I feel, you know, like I can be myself around you and you won’t judge me. I never felt that way with my folks or anyone else. And I thank you for giving me that.”
    He smiled. “My pleasure.”
    She took a sip of her drink and he glanced at his watch.
    “I know. I know,” Jolene said. “You have to run. I really wish we had more time to talk about what’s been going on with you. How do you like working as a director in county government since your promotion?”
    He put his glass down on the coffee table, stood, and put on his leather jacket. “So far, so good. Better than working for Bradford Bentley.”
    Jolene cleared her throat and rose with her glass in hand. He
would
have to bring that up. Was he rubbing Bradford in her face because she’d had an affair with him while they were married? Patrick and Bradford even got to exchanging blows at the housewarming party she had thrown shortly after they moved into this house. But all that happened almost a year ago, and she didn’t want to get into it now. That was the quickest way to an argument.
    “Good. I’m glad you’re happy in your new job.”
    “Yeah, I am. So how about you, Jo? How’s your job?”
    “Oh, you know. Same old, same old.”
    “Still kicking butt, huh?”
    She laughed. “You know me.”
    “Don’t I, though? But let me get going. We’ll talk again soon.”
    She touched the lapel on his jacket. “Better yet, Patrick. Why don’t you stay for dinner when you pick Juliette up on Friday for the weekend? She would love that.”
    He shook his head. “I promised Pearl I’d go shopping with her Friday after work. She wants to get a dress for the party Saturday night at that new house up on the hill.”
    Jolene rolled her eyes. Pearl, Pearl, Pearl. She was sick of hearing that name. “Oh,
that
.”
    “You’re not going?” Patrick asked with surprise.
    “I was invited but, no, I don’t think so.”
    “Any particular reason? There was a time when you would never have passed up a big party like that.”
    Yeah, plenty of reasons, she thought. Starting with the fact that everyone in Silver Lake now despised her. “It’s only a party. It’s not that big a deal. No one even knows who lives there, and I have other plans.”
    “Uh-huh.”
    She was lying and Patrick knew it. The only plans she ever had on a Saturday night were to check her lottery tickets. He didn’t know why she was lying, but she could see him trying to figure out why she wasn’t going to a big party. Time to change the subject.
    “So how about next Friday, then?” she asked.
    “You mean for dinner here? I’ll have to think about that. I want to see what Pearl has planned.”
    Dammit. She was going to have to slap him if he uttered that name again. “Oh, just this once. Juliette still blames me for our divorce, and if she saw us getting along better it would go a long way toward helping me patch things up with her.”
    “I’ll have to let you know.”
    He said it with such finality that Jolene decided to drop it. Fine, she thought. Forget the party, forget Patrick, forget every fucking thing. She didn’t need any of it.
    She shut the door behind him and drained her glass. That had been a total failure, just like her life. She walked back into the family room and reached for the martini shaker. She was planning to pour