A Man to Believe In (16 page)

“I’m thinking of starting. Last night I decided I need a hobby that’s safer than having sex with my husband. Something that doesn’t result in nine
straight months of fat days and twenty hours of mind-numbing labor pains,”

“Ohmigod!” Cori sat up and squeezed Jake’s arm. “You had your baby, didn’t you? How are you doing? How is the baby? Oh, Marsha, why didn’t you call me?”

“I
am
calling you.”

“Last night. I could have come to the hospital. Why didn’t you call me
last night
?”

“I was too busy calling everyone who works in the delivery room nasty names, that’s why.”

The image of Marsha cussing out the nurses and doctors made Cori smile. “I’ll bet you came up with some real doozies.”

“Yep. Kevin was appalled.”

Jake signaled for Cori to let him talk.

“Hang on, Marsha. Jake wants to speak to you.” She handed him the phone after he sat up.

“Congratulations, Marsha. I heard the good news.… Uh-huh, that’s wonderful. When are the visiting hours?… Okay, then Cori should be able to stop by this afternoon. Hold on a second. Cori’s making funny signs with her hands.” He pressed the handset against his thigh. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

“I can’t go this afternoon. I still have too much to do here.”

“Well, how about I take care of whatever else needs to be done, and you can go see Marsha.” At Cori’s nod, he put the phone back to his ear. “She’ll be over in an hour or so. Take care.” He hung up the phone.

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” she asked. “I don’t want to stick you with all the stuff left to do.”

Jake bent over and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was short, over with in a flash. When he lifted his head, he was grinning. “Just make me a list, and I’ll get everything done while you visit your friend. It’s no big deal. Besides, I was going to have to figure out a way to get you out of here this afternoon anyway. This just makes my job easier.”

“Get me out of here? What for?”

“A surprise.”

“I hate surprises, remember?”

“Trust me. You’re gonna love this one.”

She stared at him, worrying about what he had up his sleeve this time, but before she could question him further, he kissed her again, this time laying on a long, soul-searching humdinger that sent tingles to her toes and made her forget her worries.

It was dark by the time Cori returned to the store that night. A pale yellow light, barely discernible, peeked through the window blinds. For a second she thought no one was there, and she wondered if she’d misunderstood Jake’s instructions. He’d told her to have a long visit with Marsha, then go straight home. She was to indulge in the most luxuriant bubble bath she could scare up, take a long nap, and then slip into some sexy piece of nothing designed to drive him wild.

Taking a deep breath, she fished her keys from her purse and, remembering his promise of a you’re-gonna-love-it
surprise, unlocked the deadbolt and stepped inside, closing the door behind her.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Candles were responsible for the subdued lighting she’d seen when she pulled into the parking lot. A couple of dozen of them, maybe more, lined the windowsills, the checkout counter, anywhere there was a flat surface, the flames casting flickering shadows on the walls. Jake had polished the counters and woodwork with lemon oil, and they gleamed in the candlelight.

The dump bins were assembled, stocked, and placed strategically throughout the store, according to the floor plan she’d designed. Even the signs she’d made—fiction, nonfiction, and all the rest—had been posted above the appropriate sections.

The place was spotlessly clean, ready for business.

A loud pop startled her, and she turned to see Jake standing behind her, holding a bottle of champagne and two glasses. His mouth curved into a masculine smile of approval as his eyes skimmed over her pale pink camisole and the flowered skirt that allowed a sexy silhouette of her legs to show through the gauzy material. She noted he’d taken the time to dress for the occasion as well, choosing a gray herringbone sportcoat, a pink oxford-cloth shirt, and dark gray trousers. He looked handsome, she decided, incredibly handsome.

“Surprise.” He poured the foaming liquid into a champagne flute and held it out to her. Accepting the glass, she waited until he’d poured one for himself. “I’d like to propose a toast,” he said, holding
his glass high. “To Cori McLaughlin, sole proprietor of Buy the Book. May she have immediate and long-lasting success.”

They clinked glasses. Tears welled up in her eyes as she drank the toast. “You got everything done. I’m amazed.”

“Hey, you had doubts?” he asked with mock seriousness.

Smiling, she took another sip of champagne. “One or two.”

“Well”—he drew his arm in a wide circle that took in the entire store—“what do you think? Isn’t the place great?”

She looked around, not bothering to hold back the tears. She walked over and set her glass on the counter, then returned to Jake and put her arms around him. She raised her mouth to his and whispered, “It’s wonderful. I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Oh, we’ll think of a way,” he said, lowering his mouth to hers. A knock on the door kept him from giving her the hint he had in mind. “Don’t go away.”

He rushed to the door and ushered in a man.

The fellow wheeled in a small table, then proceeded to lay out dinner for two—complete with starched white tablecloth, gleaming silverware, and spotless china—before slipping back out the door.

“Nice surprise. But how’d you know I’d be hungry?” she asked with a mischievous smile, remembering the way they’d spent their lunch hour.

He pulled out her chair. “Just a hunch.”

As they ate, Jake refilled their champagne glasses from time to time from the bottle nestled in the ice bucket beside the table. Finally, they decided they couldn’t eat another bite, and pushed their plates to the side.

Looking totally satisfied, Cori sat back in her chair, lazily lifting her hair off the back of her neck and holding it in a haphazard fashion on top of her head.

Jake noted the way the candlelight sparkled over her red-gold tresses, highlighting a strand here, a strand there, and thought he’d be content to spend the rest of his life doing what he was doing right then—watching the woman he loved. More than anything, he wished he didn’t have to disappoint her. Refilling their glasses, he decided to put it off for another minute or two.

“One more toast,” he said, holding up his champagne flute. “To the future.”

Cori clinked her glass with his and took a sip of champagne. “To the future,” she repeated. “To my grand opening, to the store being a success, to … oh, to everything.” She set her glass back on the table, then clasped her hands in front of her and closed her eyes for a brief second. “I’m so excited. I just know I’m going to do well with this, and if I do, I want to open up a second store over in Pasadena, then maybe another in Arcadia or the Valley. Who knows,” she said, throwing her arms wide, “in the next five years I could become the Mrs. Fields of books.”

Jake listened to the excitement in her voice, noted the way her eyes sparkled when she described her dreams for the future, dreams that included no mention of a home, a husband, children. He wondered how long it would be before she remembered that Mrs. Fields wasn’t simply a successful businesswoman, but a wife and mother as well.

“Sounds like you’re going to be pretty busy.”

“Incredibly. Starting tomorrow, I’ll be working twelve to fifteen hours a day minimum, right through until Christmas. I’ll be so busy, I won’t be able to think straight.”

Jake leaned back in his chair. “Too busy to miss me?”

Cori sat up straight and frowned. “What do you mean?”

He took a deep breath, hoping his news didn’t burst her bubble completely. “When I went home today, I checked for messages at the office and there was one from a client. Sam Kennedy. You remember my talking about him?”

She nodded. “He’s the one with the project in San Diego, the one who’s been giving you a lot of trouble lately.”

“That’s right. He’s scheduled a conference to settle on the changes we’ve been discussing.” He paused and took a deep breath. “Tomorrow.”

“Are you saying—”

“If there was any way I could get out of this, I would, but if I put this meeting off even for one day, we’re going to have to shut down the project, and I’ll
be forced to lay off a hundred men. I can’t do that. Not if I can avoid it.”

It took a minute for the full impact of his message to hit her, but when it did, she felt as though someone had kicked her in the stomach.

Jake was going to miss her grand opening
.

She put her napkin on the table and stood up, then went over to the window and twisted the wand on the blinds so she could peek out, hoping the activity would distract her enough to keep her from making a fool of herself by crying in front of Jake. She didn’t want him to know how disappointed she was, couldn’t let him see she’d been counting on his being there with her.

Dammit, she wanted to shout. It shouldn’t matter so much that he was going to miss her big day. This was her store. She shouldn’t need him standing by her side all day, holding her hand, telling her how great it was going. And she never should have assumed he would be.

He had responsibilities of his own, to his clients, his construction company, to a
hundred
men and their families. She’d already monopolized every waking moment of his time for the past two weeks. It had been totally selfish of her not to realize he might be neglecting his own business to help with hers.

Of course he would go to San Diego tomorrow. And she’d be just fine without him.

A chair scraped on the floor, and she heard the click of his heels as he crossed the floor and approached the window. With a determined smile on her face, she turned around.

“I didn’t really expect you’d be here for the opening,” she told him, forcing the cheerful tone that came out with her words. “You’ve spent so much time here these last couple of weeks, and I appreciate all the help you’ve given me, but I was beginning to wonder if you’d forgotten all about Tanner Construction.”

Frowning, Jake stared down at Cori. All afternoon he’d worried that his announcement would put a damper on the evening. But she’d taken the news well. So well, in fact, that her downright cheerful reaction surprised the hell out of him.

They’d worked side by side every day for two solid weeks, done everything together getting things ready for her big day. He’d expected her to be, at the very least, disappointed that he had to go out of town and be forced to miss the biggest celebration of all.

“Sweetheart, I know how much tomorrow means to you, and I wish—” She silenced him with a kiss. He tasted wine on her lips, wine from their earlier celebration.

“Hush,” she said. “Not another word about it. You go to your meeting, get things straightened out so you can keep the job on schedule. I understand. Besides, you said it yourself—I’m Cori McLaughlin, sole proprietor of Buy the Book. I’ll be fine. Really.”

I’ll be fine
, she repeated silently, blinking back the tears that threatened to expose her lie.

Cori placed the twenty-dollar bill in the cash drawer and withdrew the change, then counted it back to the customer standing on the other side of the counter.

“I hope you enjoy the book,” she said, then slipped the novel into a bag and handed it to him.

“I’m sure I will,” he said, smiling as he tucked his package under his arm.

At that moment Max leapt up onto the counter. He strolled along the ledge, taking his time—no doubt for effect—until he was directly in front of the man. Drawing his hind feet beneath him, he sat, staring up at him.

“What’s this? Another customer?” the gentleman asked, chuckling as he reached out to give Max a brisk scratch behind his ears. Max instantly began
to purr. “He probably came by to get a copy of Cleveland Amory’s
The Christmas Cat
.”

Cori smiled at the man, shaking her head at how successful Max was with such a transparent ploy for attention, knowing he was having the time of his life.

“Well, gotta run. Good luck with your store. You’ve done a nice job with the place,” he said, and pointed to the wall behind her, to the print that Jake had suggested she hang where everyone who came into the store could see it. “I’ve always loved that picture. It’s one of my favorites.”

“Mine too,” she mumbled to herself as the man closed the door behind him.

Suddenly exhausted, she glanced at the clock on the wall. No wonder she felt as though she’d run out of steam. It was after nine, time to bring her first official day of business to a close. Things had been so hectic, she hadn’t noticed it had gotten so late. But she wasn’t complaining. Her opening had gone well, and if today was any indication, she was headed for rip-roaring success.

The advertisements she’d placed in local papers had paid off better than she’d dared to hope, providing her with such a steady stream of customers that she was thankful she’d gone ahead and hired a couple of part-time employees right away. And the number of friends and fellow merchants who’d stopped by to lend moral support and wish her luck in her new venture was astonishing.

Kevin Simpson stopped by on his way to the hospital to see Marsha and the baby. Sean was only
two days old, but Kevin insisted it wasn’t too early to start reading to him, and purchased a half-dozen storybooks—Cori’s very first sale.

A short time later a huge bouquet of flowers arrived, courtesy of the ladies she’d worked with at the library. Mrs. Wilson, her former boss, dropped in on her lunch hour, full of encouragement and eager to share her advice on how to keep employees from taking overly long coffee breaks. Even Harriet, her favorite waitress at Butch’s Barbecue Pit, had stopped off on her way to work.

Alone for the first time in hours, she locked the door and closed the blinds, flipped off most of the lights, then crossed to the center of the store and sank down into one of the plump easy chairs. With immense satisfaction she discovered that the seating area—designed to provide a comfortable place to flip through books—was equally useful after a long, hard day of work. Slipping her shoes off, she let her toes curl into the rug.