“If you ever feel like you’re in real danger, call 911 or go to a shelter.”
She nodded her head. He wanted to make her promise, but he knew there was no point.
“Go easy on the make-up,” Jake said from outside Violet’s bathroom door on Saturday. “Unlike your television station, I want to bring out your natural beauty.”
She opened the door. “Are you saying you don’t like how I look when I’m working?” She knew he didn’t find her unattractive at home, because she often caught his appreciative glances as she was doing things with Daisy.
He grinned. “Violet, you’re a beautiful woman. But there’s more than one type of beauty.”
“Are a little blush and some lipstick appropriate for the type of beauty you want?”
“Perfect. Most of the shoot will be in black-and-white anyway.”
She closed the door and turned back to her mirror. Jake had originally suggested they do some “tasteful” shots with Violet and the baby both naked, or appearing to be, but she was so shocked he immediately backed down. Instead she was wearing white spandex shorts and a tank top to reveal her “long and slender” arms and legs, and the baby would wear a diaper.
Her sessions with the trainer had gotten rid of most of the pregnancy weight, and the spandex hid what was left. Best of all, her face was no longer puffy and tired-looking. She’d relented and allowed Jake to do the morning feeding, and she was now as energetic as she’d been a year ago. She went to work each day knowing her baby was happy and safe in Jake’s care. Of course, come fall all of that could change, but she was confident she had time to work out a good childcare solution. She refused to think about whether or not Daisy might be old enough to miss her father when he left.
When Daisy woke from her afternoon nap, Violet fed and changed her, then strapped her into her car seat. Jake had gone on ahead to get his friend’s studio set up.
“We’re going to take pictures here against the plain backdrop, and then I have a surprise for you.” He led her into the center of the circle of lights and made adjustments while she sat on the floor and undressed the baby.
“We’re ready, but what are we supposed to do?” To her horror, the nervous laugh she’d worked so hard to banish had reappeared. She was used to cameras and photo sessions, but not while wearing snug, revealing clothing and holding her baby. Or with a man she’d slept with as the photographer.
“Just play with Daisy. Act natural.”
Nothing about the situation felt natural, but she picked Daisy up under her arms and held her up in front of her with their faces inches apart. “I feel silly, kiddo, how about you?” She was rewarded with a burst of laughter, which never failed to make her laugh, too.
“That’s it, you’re loosening up. Whatever you do, keep making eye contact with her.”
Although she loved Daisy and being a mother, playing did not come naturally to Violet. She had no younger siblings, and she’d never babysat. When she saw how comfortable Jake was making silly faces at Daisy or bouncing and nuzzling her, she was jealous. But she tried doing the things she saw him do, and the baby’s response egged her on. After a few minutes she forgot all about Jake and his camera.
“Okay, we don’t want to wear her out,” he said after about fifteen minutes. “I think I got some great shots.” He put his camera down and took Daisy from her. “Are you ready for the surprise?”
“Jake, you should probably know this about me. I hate surprises.”
He laughed. “You know, I guessed that about you. But there’s nothing to be afraid of. Just relax and trust me.”
“The last time I did that …”
“You got the best surprise of all.” He kissed Daisy’s plump cheek. “Now go into the dressing room and change.”
“Into what?” She pulled the curtain aside and saw he’d brought her favorite summer sundress. It was airy and sleeveless, with an allover floral print inspired by the paintings of Monet. Whenever she wore it, she felt beautiful and happy. “I don’t suppose you brought shoes?”
He handed her a plastic bag. Inside were her matching lilac peep-toe sandals. “You won’t need them once we get there, but you can’t drive barefoot.”
“Jake, are you going to tell me where we’re going?”
He put Daisy on a table and began to dress her in a bright pink romper he pulled from another bag, a shower gift from her mother. “Violet, can’t you ever just be spontaneous?”
“Spontaneous?” Jake had said the magic word. She remembered the night of the party, and her resolve to loosen up. There had been few opportunities in the past year, but maybe it was time to give it another try. “All right. I can be ready in two minutes.”
He had Violet drive a few blocks and pull into the driveway of a venerable Boston homestead. She turned and stared at him. “Are we having high tea with the mayor?”
“The head of the garden society lives here, and we have permission to use her garden.”
A uniformed maid led them behind the house to an enclosed garden that was a riot of colors and aromas. Violet, holding Daisy, headed for the mounds of roses, every shade from the palest pink to the richest crimson, and inhaled deeply. “I didn’t think roses had such a strong scent.”
“The ones you get from a florist don’t.” Jake was snapping off shots as Violet moved from one section of the garden to another.
“Sit in the grass over there, by the irises.”
She laughed. “In spite of my name, I don’t know much about flowers. That’s my mother’s arena.” She moved to the spot he indicated, and settled on the ground with Daisy on her lap.
Jake stooped down and pulled off her sandals, then spread her skirt out around her. He used both hands to tuck her hair behind her ears, then let his hands trail down the sides of her neck. She shivered. An instant later he was taking pictures again as though nothing had happened. Had the touch been accidental?
After ten minutes and two changes of position, Daisy started to get fidgety. Jake was working hard to coax a smile out of her when his cell phone rang. He frowned at the display.
“I have to take this.”
He walked several feet away, but Violet overheard some of the conversation.
“If it has to be today, then it does. We’ll make it work.” Then he turned away and she couldn’t make out the words. As he walked back in her direction, she heard, “he won’t find out, trust me.”
By the time he snapped the phone shut and returned it to his pocket, Daisy was crying.
“I think she’s overstimulated,” she said to Jake.
He shrugged. “I think we’re done here. Something has come up that I have to handle. What time is your date tonight?”
He said the word “date” in a mocking way that Violet didn’t care for. “Seven-thirty, but I’ll need to get ready. If you could be back by seven …”
“No problem.” He was packing away the cameras, his mind already someplace else.
She slid her shoes on. “Jake, is something wrong? Is it your uncle?”
He glanced over at her, but seemed not to notice she was having difficulty getting up off the ground while holding Daisy. “Everything’s fine.” He hoisted his camera bag over his shoulder and headed for the car, leaving her to straggle behind him with the crying baby.
• • •
At seven o’clock that evening, Violet was giving Daisy her bottle in the living room and wondering who would show up first, Jake or Richard. It would take her at least half an hour to dress, although she knew Richard wouldn’t complain if he had to wait. She just didn’t like leaving the two men alone together to butt heads like two bulls in a pen.
What was that all about, anyway? She knew Richard was jealous because he was in love with her, and saw Jake as a threat. But why was Jake so territorial? The obvious answer was Daisy. He didn’t even know his child existed a month ago, but now that he did, he didn’t want to share her. His caveman behavior didn’t have anything to do with
her
. Or did it?
She remembered the way his fingers had touched her neck earlier, almost a caress, and how her heart had threatened to beat its way out of her chest. But then he ran off, with no explanation. Now he was late, which wasn’t like him. In the week he’d been Daisy’s nanny — she supposed it would be more accurate to say they were co-parenting her — she’d come to rely on his calm and competence. Which she knew was a mistake. Very soon he would be calm and competent halfway across the world.
A key turned in the lock, and Jake rushed in without warning. “Sorry, sorry, but I’m only a few minutes late, right?”
Daisy spit the nipple out of her mouth and lifted her head to smile at Jake.
“Here, let me give her the rest.” He took the baby from her. “I’m sure you’ll want to go put on a lot of make-up for your date with Rayburn … I mean, Richard.”
Violet glared at him, then headed upstairs. When she got to her bedroom she realized she still had the burp cloth slung over her shoulder, and hadn’t told him the baby should be burped before she got the rest of the bottle. Oh well, he was a natural at this baby stuff. He’d figure it out, right?
Wrong. She returned to the living room just in time to watch as he took the bottle away from Daisy and began to lift her to his shoulder. As soon as her head was upright, the baby burped and released the last couple ounces of formula all over the front of Jake’s sky-blue polo shirt.
“Thank you, Daisy.” She smiled back at him as though he’d meant it, and Violet had to admire his low-key reaction. “I’m not crazy about this formula,” he said to her.
“I know, I think we might need to make a switch.” Daisy had rarely spit up the breast milk, but they’d been getting baptized with the sour-smelling formula regularly for the past few days. She took the baby from him and set her down on the play mat. “Give me your shirt. I have a basket full of her things that are almost as nasty, and I’ll throw in a load.”
He removed the shirt by rolling it up from the bottom, already an old pro at handling messes. While the shirt was over his head and he couldn’t see her, she let her gaze linger on his chest, the muscles rippling with his movement. She had no idea what Richard’s chest and abs were like, and unfortunately, she had no interest in finding out.
When she returned her attention to his face, his wry expression and raised eyebrow told her he’d caught her staring. “I thought you might have gotten some on you,” she explained, taking the shirt from him and walking away before he could see her blush.
In the laundry room she dumped detergent and a pile of Daisy’s minuscule clothes into the washer, then gingerly turned Jake’s shirt right-side out. As she was about to toss it in with the rest of the load, she noticed a folded sheet of paper in the breast pocket. Pink and thin, she thought it was a duplicate copy or a receipt. Although she planned to give it to him, she couldn’t resist opening the folds and taking a peek first. It was a receipt from a hotel, dated today.
“I think I have a clean shirt in here …” Jake said from the doorway.
It was too late to hide what she was doing. Their eyes met and the doorbell rang at the same moment.
“This must be yours,” she said, holding out the receipt. As though there could be another explanation for its presence in his pocket.
He took it without a word, grabbed a clean T-shirt, and left.
When she returned to the living room, Jake, still shirtless, was opening the door for Richard. He held out his hand to the new arrival, who grimaced like he was being offered a dead fish to hold.
“Don’t let me keep you from … dressing, old man.” Richard’s eyes scanned Violet as though he was checking to see if she might have also been undressed a moment before.
“Just let me say goodbye to Daisy.” Violet lifted the baby from the play mat but was careful not to jostle her. “As soon as Jake is ready, we can go.”
“All set.” Jake finished straightening his shirt and took the baby from her. “You two have a good time.”
“Thanks.” She picked up her purse off the table in the foyer and took Richard’s arm. “I plan to have a
very
good time.”
Richard’s fervent puppy-dog expression when he opened the passenger door of his Lexus for her told her she’d gone too far baiting Jake. Her “date” reminded her of Brandon Gillette the night of the Junior Prom, leering at her as soon as they were alone, letting her know he expected to get lucky. Richard had about as much chance as Brandon did, no matter how angry she was at Jake.
“I made reservations at À La Mode,” Richard told her as the car hummed to life.
“Lovely.” She leaned her head back against the plush headrest. Much classier than taking her to some no-tell motel on the outskirts of town for a quickie.
But what did it matter to her how or where Jake scratched his sexual itches? Or with whom? It would be laughable to imagine he hadn’t had another sex partner in the past year, just because
she
hadn’t. Perhaps that was the problem. Remembering the way he’d touched her neck earlier, she could almost feel it burn. The reason was simple, now that she thought about it. Her sex drive was returning after the pregnancy, and Jake was an attractive man who she happened to know was very skilled at pleasing a woman.
He was always around her house, usually wearing cargo shorts that revealed his powerful legs, and with all the shirt changing, his naked chest was on display half a dozen times a day. If she thought he had romantic feelings for her, or even just sexual ones, it was wishful thinking brought about by surging hormones. He, obviously, had other outlets for his urges.
Well, so did she. Right at this moment she was on her way to Boston’s best French restaurant with a handsome, sophisticated, and educated man. Just because there hadn’t been chemistry between them in the past didn’t mean it couldn’t develop, did it?
Richard placed his hand on hers and made her jump. “You’re quiet tonight. Worried about Daisy?”
“Not at all. Jake is extremely competent. When Daisy had her cold, I would have had no idea what to do if he hadn’t been there.”
Richard frowned, casting a quick glance at her before returning his gaze to the road. “Violet, give me a break. Something as simple as a cold wouldn’t have been a problem for you. I’ve seen you interview slimy welfare defrauders and make them cry.”