The kiss went on for a long, long time. He put his hands on her waist. She put her hands everywhere. I squeezed my eyes shut. I took deep breaths. I put my head between my knees. I locked my hands together and knotted my ankles together, because if I didn’t, I was going to spring up out of my hiding place, spider or no spider, and haul Rhonda off him the way you tweezed ticks off a dog.
Not that I was jealous. I didn’t have any right to be jealous. Labeck was a free man after all. He could kiss anyone he wanted. We’d been broken up for six weeks now. We’d broken up practically before we were even together.
I’d moved in with Ben Labeck the day I’d been released from prison. We’d spent most of our first weekend together in bed, and then it was Monday morning and Labeck had to go back to work. I spent my days job hunting, scouring the Internet for job openings, registering with employment agencies, and checking the want ads. Nothing turned up until I answered the CRS ad.
Fate is a prankster. Fate gives with one hand and takes with the other.
Because on the same day that Rhonda Cromwell offered me a job, the opportunity of a lifetime opened up for Labeck. NBC offered him a temporary assignment with a crew filming a controversial oil-fracking operation in Montana. They wanted him to start immediately, because the cameraman who’d originally been scheduled had gotten sick.
“That’s wonderful,” I told Ben when he came home, practically vibrating with excitement, picking me up and whirling me around. “I’m so proud of you.”
“You’re coming, too. I’ve arranged everything. It’ll be at least a month.”
I stepped out of his arms. “I can’t. I just got hired at CRS. I’m supposed to start a mystery-shopping job tomorrow.”
“You’re turning down the chance to go to Montana with me so you can be a mystery shopper ? What the hell is that, anyway? It sounds like spying.”
“It’s not spying !” I was starting to get annoyed. I was happy about Labeck’s newjob; why couldn’t he be happy for me? “I’m going to be evaluating businesses. What does it say about my work ethic if I go flying off to Montana ten minutes after I get hired?”
“We’re not flying, we’re driving.”
“What’s this we business? I wasn’t consulted.”
“I thought you’d be thrilled.”
“Of course I’m thrilled. I’d love to go. But I need this job. It’s not great, but it’s at least the first stepping-stone in my career.”
“Mazie, you don’t need a career. I can take care of you.”
“So you bring home the bacon and I fry it up in a pan?”
Ben Labeck had been raised in a home where his dad, who ran a cabinetmaking business out of a home workshop, made the meals, scrubbed the floors, and chauffeured the kids around, while his mom taught at the local college. So where had the liberated Labecks’ only son acquired the notion that I didn’t need a career because he could take care of me?
Ben scowled. “It’s not like that.”
“That’s exactly what it’s like. You’re trying to run my life.”
“Wanting to take care of you is running your life?”
“There’s a line between caring for someone and controlling them, and you keep stepping over that line.”
His mouth hardened. This was our first serious disagreement and neither of us knew how to deal with it. We’d barely sketched out the rudiments of our relationship. Ben Labeck was smart, kind, brave, and daring, but—perhaps because he was used to bossing around three younger sisters—he also possessed a streak of overprotectiveness that bordered on chauvinism. Now I’d insulted him and wounded his pride. He reacted by closing down. I hated when guys did that. It meant they knew that if they continued the argument they were going to lose, so they were cutting their losses to save face. Ben went to the bedroom, hauled out a suitcase, and started packing.
I wanted to go to Ben and wrap my arms around him, but there was
Not that I was jealous. I didn’t have any right to be jealous. Labeck was a free man after all. He could kiss anyone he wanted. We’d been broken up for six weeks now. We’d broken up practically before we were even together.
I’d moved in with Ben Labeck the day I’d been released from prison. We’d spent most of our first weekend together in bed, and then it was Monday morning and Labeck had to go back to work. I spent my days job hunting, scouring the Internet for job openings, registering with employment agencies, and checking the want ads. Nothing turned up until I answered the CRS ad.
Fate is a prankster. Fate gives with one hand and takes with the other.
Because on the same day that Rhonda Cromwell offered me a job, the opportunity of a lifetime opened up for Labeck. NBC offered him a temporary assignment with a crew filming a controversial oil-fracking operation in Montana. They wanted him to start immediately, because the cameraman who’d originally been scheduled had gotten sick.
“That’s wonderful,” I told Ben when he came home, practically vibrating with excitement, picking me up and whirling me around. “I’m so proud of you.”
“You’re coming, too. I’ve arranged everything. It’ll be at least a month.”
I stepped out of his arms. “I can’t. I just got hired at CRS. I’m supposed to start a mystery-shopping job tomorrow.”
“You’re turning down the chance to go to Montana with me so you can be a mystery shopper ? What the hell is that, anyway? It sounds like spying.”
“It’s not spying !” I was starting to get annoyed. I was happy about Labeck’s newjob; why couldn’t he be happy for me? “I’m going to be evaluating businesses. What does it say about my work ethic if I go flying off to Montana ten minutes after I get hired?”
“We’re not flying, we’re driving.”
“What’s this we business? I wasn’t consulted.”
“I thought you’d be thrilled.”
“Of course I’m thrilled. I’d love to go. But I need this job. It’s not great, but it’s at least the first stepping-stone in my career.”
“Mazie, you don’t need a career. I can take care of you.”
“So you bring home the bacon and I fry it up in a pan?”
Ben Labeck had been raised in a home where his dad, who ran a cabinetmaking business out of a home workshop, made the meals, scrubbed the floors, and chauffeured the kids around, while his mom taught at the local college. So where had the liberated Labecks’ only son acquired the notion that I didn’t need a career because he could take care of me?
Ben scowled. “It’s not like that.”
“That’s exactly what it’s like. You’re trying to run my life.”
“Wanting to take care of you is running your life?”
“There’s a line between caring for someone and controlling them, and you keep stepping over that line.”
His mouth hardened. This was our first serious disagreement and neither of us knew how to deal with it. We’d barely sketched out the rudiments of our relationship. Ben Labeck was smart, kind, brave, and daring, but—perhaps because he was used to bossing around three younger sisters—he also possessed a streak of overprotectiveness that bordered on chauvinism. Now I’d insulted him and wounded his pride. He reacted by closing down. I hated when guys did that. It meant they knew that if they continued the argument they were going to lose, so they were cutting their losses to save face. Ben went to the bedroom, hauled out a suitcase, and started packing.
I wanted to go to Ben and wrap my arms around him, but there was
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