at all, from what you say, but I’m sure they’ll both enjoy the sailing.”
Muscleman. Somehow, she was going to have to convince Jeremy to come along. He was going to be in for a very big surprise.
“All right.”
“All right?” Jordan repeated. He seemed to let out his breath. She was somewhat startled by the expression she caught in his eyes before he blinked, thick sandy lashes seeming to sweep away whatever she had thought she saw. He had really wanted her to come. This hadn’t just been a polite and determined attempt on behalf of their daughters; it was important to him that she be there.
Why?
Their marriage was—had been—indisputably over. He hadn’t been alone, though she had to admit he’d never lived the wild, reckless life she might have expected him to indulge in once he’d gained his freedom. Before Tara Hughes, there had been a voluptuous country-western singer. Not his type—Kathy could have told him so. Before that, he had been seeing a very attractive television weatherwoman and, right after the divorce, the ballet dancer. He certainly hadn’t been pining after her all these years. So what?
There was something very intense about him tonight. But then...
He had become tense after Keith’s death. Sometimes then she had thought she didn’t know him at all. She hadn’t been able to reach him. She had felt...
As if she’d lost him. She had lost him. Lost all the trust, the belief.
She didn’t want to think back. And her first reaction had been the right one—she didn’t want to go back.
But she was doing it.
She was setting herself up for a knife twisted in the heart. The Star Island house had been her home for nearly ten years before she had left it. She knew every nook and cranny of the place, knew the legends about the mobsters who had owned it during the thirties, could picture now the view from the backyard at night—stars in a dark sky and the lights from downtown Miami striking water blackened by into a rippling velvet sea.
Behind the pool where the guest house had been... Even when she had left, the earth had seemed parched and burned there, though the skeletal remnants of the cottage had been blasted and swept away.
Had he rebuilt the guest house?
She wondered as well if Miss April had done any redecorating.
“I’m not sure what good I’ll be to you,” she said suddenly. “I haven’t done anything except sing in the shower in the past ten years. I never really was a musician, I—”
“You wrote the best lyrics,” he told her.
Did he mean it? Or was it a polite way of agreeing that she had never been a musician?
“If you’re really planning a performance—”
“I am.”
“Then you won’t be getting much help from me.”
He shook his head. “I intend to on the second Saturday night. By then, we’ll have had five days of practice, and we’ll do all the old songs we’d have to be dead not to remember. Most of the guys have kept working one way or another. And Shelley has been singing in Las Vegas. It’s a benefit; you haven’t anything to worry about.”
She nodded, knowing he was lying through his teeth! He was worried about something himself.
But as she had realized, she did know Jordan. And she wasn’t going to get anything more out of him tonight.
“All set?” he asked.
She had one shrimp left—his squiggly little oysters were all gone. Well, that was Jordan. He had what he wanted; he was ready to move on.
“Yeah, I’m all set.”
He helped himself to her last shrimp, asked for the check, and paid it. He then politely pulled back her chair and just as politely set a hand at the small of her back to escort her out of the restaurant.
“Is this where you’re staying?” she asked him.
He nodded.
“Well, you don’t have to see me home. This is my city and I’m well over twenty-one—”
“Yeah, I know.”
Great, she thought wryly. He knew her age.
“I can go home alone.”
“Don’t you think the girls will be waiting
Muscleman. Somehow, she was going to have to convince Jeremy to come along. He was going to be in for a very big surprise.
“All right.”
“All right?” Jordan repeated. He seemed to let out his breath. She was somewhat startled by the expression she caught in his eyes before he blinked, thick sandy lashes seeming to sweep away whatever she had thought she saw. He had really wanted her to come. This hadn’t just been a polite and determined attempt on behalf of their daughters; it was important to him that she be there.
Why?
Their marriage was—had been—indisputably over. He hadn’t been alone, though she had to admit he’d never lived the wild, reckless life she might have expected him to indulge in once he’d gained his freedom. Before Tara Hughes, there had been a voluptuous country-western singer. Not his type—Kathy could have told him so. Before that, he had been seeing a very attractive television weatherwoman and, right after the divorce, the ballet dancer. He certainly hadn’t been pining after her all these years. So what?
There was something very intense about him tonight. But then...
He had become tense after Keith’s death. Sometimes then she had thought she didn’t know him at all. She hadn’t been able to reach him. She had felt...
As if she’d lost him. She had lost him. Lost all the trust, the belief.
She didn’t want to think back. And her first reaction had been the right one—she didn’t want to go back.
But she was doing it.
She was setting herself up for a knife twisted in the heart. The Star Island house had been her home for nearly ten years before she had left it. She knew every nook and cranny of the place, knew the legends about the mobsters who had owned it during the thirties, could picture now the view from the backyard at night—stars in a dark sky and the lights from downtown Miami striking water blackened by into a rippling velvet sea.
Behind the pool where the guest house had been... Even when she had left, the earth had seemed parched and burned there, though the skeletal remnants of the cottage had been blasted and swept away.
Had he rebuilt the guest house?
She wondered as well if Miss April had done any redecorating.
“I’m not sure what good I’ll be to you,” she said suddenly. “I haven’t done anything except sing in the shower in the past ten years. I never really was a musician, I—”
“You wrote the best lyrics,” he told her.
Did he mean it? Or was it a polite way of agreeing that she had never been a musician?
“If you’re really planning a performance—”
“I am.”
“Then you won’t be getting much help from me.”
He shook his head. “I intend to on the second Saturday night. By then, we’ll have had five days of practice, and we’ll do all the old songs we’d have to be dead not to remember. Most of the guys have kept working one way or another. And Shelley has been singing in Las Vegas. It’s a benefit; you haven’t anything to worry about.”
She nodded, knowing he was lying through his teeth! He was worried about something himself.
But as she had realized, she did know Jordan. And she wasn’t going to get anything more out of him tonight.
“All set?” he asked.
She had one shrimp left—his squiggly little oysters were all gone. Well, that was Jordan. He had what he wanted; he was ready to move on.
“Yeah, I’m all set.”
He helped himself to her last shrimp, asked for the check, and paid it. He then politely pulled back her chair and just as politely set a hand at the small of her back to escort her out of the restaurant.
“Is this where you’re staying?” she asked him.
He nodded.
“Well, you don’t have to see me home. This is my city and I’m well over twenty-one—”
“Yeah, I know.”
Great, she thought wryly. He knew her age.
“I can go home alone.”
“Don’t you think the girls will be waiting
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