“No lie?” Girt asked, clearly impressed.
“No lie,” Jake said, his chest still puffed about that stupid bowling game.
Girt shifted her gaze to Robin. “I take it you don't bowl much.”
“I don't get the opportunity,” she lied, unconsciously brushing a curl from her temple.
Girt started toward the building. “That's what we do in Burdette,” she called over her shoulder. “You might think about that if you're serious about buying this place.”
That remark caught Robin off guard—she had never mentioned purchase to Girt. “What makes you think I want to buy?” she asked, hurrying to catch up.
“Mr. Iverson told me. He's called down here twice now.”
Robin stopped in mid-stride, trying to grasp the notion that Evan had called Eldagirt Wirt, confused as to why he had, and moreover, why he hadn't told her.
Girt held the door open for them. “You coming in?” she asked before disappearing inside.
“I see what you mean about not being able to trust anyone,” Jake said as he put his hand on her back and gave her a gentle push forward. Confused, Robin stumbled forward.
Wirt Supplies and Packing was a much larger warehouse than Peerless, but without the fuss of offices up front. There were only two that she could see, each with two desks and stacks of papers piled high on the floor, the filing cabinets, and the desks.
“Hope you'll forgive the mess,” Girt said and proceeded to show them through her operation. She explained where the packing materials were made and stored, the various types of bags, plastics, and boxes they made and sold, the different strappings, the wooden pallets, the storage units, the cushion products.
It was plain Girt was proud of her operation. She said that her father had started the company, that she had bought him out when he got sick with cancer. Bob helped her manage the operation, they employed thirty-two people, most of whom were longtime employees.
“That's quite an accomplishment,” Jake observed.
Girt beamed at him. “We pride ourselves in being good to our employees. That's one thing I'd have to know, that my people were going to be taken care of.”
“Does your father get involved anymore?” Robin asked.
“Oh, he died,” Girt said matter-of-factly. “He's been gone two years now.”
The casual way she said it was like a fist to Robin's gut; unconsciously, she put a hand to her stomach. Jake quietly took her hand and held it.
They moved through the last warehouse where the cushioning products were prepared for shipping, but Robin wasn't paying much attention. She was too engrossed in the number of similarities between her and Girt. When they finished the tour, Girt invited them up front for a soda. On the way, Robin asked why she would consider selling a business of which she was so obviously proud.
“Not sure I will,” she admitted. "But you people and
American Motorfreight—they've made noises about buying me out, too—it's just all made me think about things a little different."
“Like life?” Jake asked.
“Yeah,” Girt said with a laugh. “Like life. I'm a single mom, you know, and I have to think of my son.”
“But can't you keep this and look after him?” Robin asked, suddenly and strangely convinced she did not want Girt to sell.
Girt laughed as they walked up to the main office. “Not really,” she said and motioned for Robin to precede her. “Meet my son, David,” she said as Robin stepped across the threshold.
Seated in a wheelchair, his head strapped to some godawful contraption and his arms and legs horribly twisted at odd angles, David grinned at her. Next to him, Bob was mixing something up in a Slurpee cup.
“David's got cerebral palsy,” Girt said and walked over to her son, ran her hand along the top of his head. “If I sell Wirt, I'll never have to worry about taking care of him again. I keep thinking about that.”
“Oh God,” Jake murmured softly, and Robin silently echoed his plea.
They had lifted off, en route to Houston ; Robin was still lost in thought about Burdette and Eldagirt Wirt and her son. She looked at Jake sitting across from her, his legs crossed, his sandy brown hair wildly disarranged by his tour of Burdette from the back of a pickup truck, reading a local paper from a convenience store. Amazing, how easily he seemed to fit with people from all walks of life. She couldn't seem to do that. Why? Why couldn't she befriend Reba and Sue and Sylvia right off the bat? Because you 're arrogant.
“What are you thinking?” Jake asked without looking up from his paper.
Startled that he had sensed her retreat, Robin shifted uneasily in her seat. “Nothing.”
“You're awfully quiet,” he said, looking up. “That's so unlike you.”
“Very funny.” She grinned, looked at her hands. “I was just thinking about Girt.”
“She's good people,” Jake observed, putting aside his paper.
“Yeah, but I didn't think so before today. I assumed all sorts of things about her.”
“That's just human nature. You get impressions of people over the phone or e-mail that get blown out of the water when you actually meet them.”
“But it's more than that. I don't know… I don't understand how you can walk into a room and be so easy, but I can walk into the same room and feel like… like my back is against the wall. Like I am surrounded by the enemy.” She winced at that, glanced out the window. “I think Dad is right. I think I really am arrogant.”
Whatever she expected Jake to say, she did not expect him to laugh. He moved forward, braced his arms on his thighs. “Robin. I don't know what kind of trip your old man has laid on you, but you are not arrogant. You are strong-willed and you know what you want. And you're aloof; you have a tendency to hold yourself out. But you're confusing fear with arrogance.”
“Fear? I'm not afraid!”
“Like hell you're not. You were afraid to ride in that truck today. When we walked into that bowling alley, you stiffened up like an old dead cow.”
“Well, not because I was afraid of anyone,” she argued. “I just don't get along with people like you do. I don't seem to connect like you do.”
“Are you nuts? Look how you treat my nephew when no one in my family can stand the kid. And Zaney—God knows Zaney can be a pain in the ass, but you don't seem to mind him. And what about Lucy? And Elmer—”
“You can't count him, he's my grandpa.”
“The point is, you get along fine with anyone you allow past that wall you put up.”
“What wall?” she snorted.
“You know, the rich princess in the tower routine. You can be a little standoffish—that wall.”
His remark, surprisingly, did not offend her. She knew exactly what he meant. “See? I'm arrogant, not afraid.”
“You're afraid.”
“Okay, Certified Genius, what am I so afraid of?”
“That they won't like you.”
His answer stunned her—she'd never thought of it, but knew instantly that it was true.
“But you are in luck, sweetheart, because I'm going to help you conquer your fear,” he said with a devilish grin and moved across the small aisle toward her.
“Oh really? And just how are you going to do that?” she asked, putting her hand on his chest as he braced his arms on either side of her to kiss her forehead.
“I am going to take you to meet my mom on Easter Sunday.”
Robin laughed. “I'm not afraid of your mom!”
“You should be,” he said lazily, kissing her lips. “Hey, by the way… you're not afraid of flying, are you?” he asked, kissing her again. “I mean, really flying?”
Robin giggled. “Are you kidding?” she asked and welcomed Jake as the charter member in her mile-high club.
They spent that evening in her bed, languidly making love, watching TV, and eating popcorn, the only food Robin had in the house. Jake made a point of not leaving, and on Sunday, when he left to go get Cole, Robin called her dad in New York .
“I'm doing fine!” he said gruffly when she asked. “Stop worrying about me!” But Mom told her that Dad was going to have to go for more radiation. They hadn't quite gotten it all.
“What does that mean? Why didn't they get it all?”
“It's a very aggressive type of cancer. But we're still very hopeful.”
Robin closed her eyes. “Mom, how are you holding up after all these weeks?”
Mom laughed. “Well, he's as impossible as he ever was… but he needs me.”
It must be nice, Robin thought. He certainly didn't need her.
That afternoon, she treated Jake and Cole to an Astros game from box seats, courtesy LTI. They ended the day with pizza and Cole talking about how much he hated algebra. Jake seemed fascinated, and the two of them had a legitimate, civilized, conversation. And for some reason, algebra
made Robin think of the work she was doing.
The next morning, she phoned Evan in Dallas .
“Robin!” he said, surprised to hear her voice.
“How's it going, Evan?”
“Great! Just great!”
“I was in Burdette this weekend. Girt said you called her.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Why did you call her? I thought you were going to let me handle this.”
“I am, kid! I tried to get hold of you. When I got back to Dallas Friday, I ran into the sales manager at American Motorfreight. He mentioned in passing that they were thinking of acquiring Wirt. When I couldn't get hold of you, I called down there, told her not to make a hasty decision, that we wanted to talk to her, too.”
Robin pondered that—it sounded reasonable. It was true she had been out of pocket Friday afternoon, and Girt had confirmed American Motorfreight's interest.
“So what did you find out?” he asked.
“Well, she's got a larger operation than Lou Harvey, which we knew. And it's definitely more diverse, which I like. Lou's deal bothers me because it looks like he's been losing money the last couple of years.”
“Right. I saw that, too,” Evan agreed.
“But I don't know if I understand everything I see with Lou's operation. On the other hand, Girt says she hasn't seen a huge increase in profit, but she's been steadily growing.”
“That's right. Let me tell you a couple of things to look for,” Evan said and proceeded to list things Robin could check as crews began to trickle in to work on her house. He confirmed her instincts about Peerless and Wirt, which both surprised and pleased Robin. She had not reached the point where she actually trusted herself; it helped that Evan seemed to think she was right on target.
They were talking about the Wirt profit-loss statements when Jake came in. He grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips, then, with a wink, disappeared into the kitchen.
When he returned, Robin was still on the line, laughing about the infamous office politics in New York and one particularly notorious secretary. Carrying a circular saw, Jake paused to put it down as Robin laughed at Evan's telling of the secretary's latest escapades, picturing the whole scene in her mind.
“Okay, well, look, I'm going to be in Houston next week. I'm pretty booked, but maybe we can get together for dinner and talk about Wirt, all right?”
“Sure,” Robin said and switched her computer screen to her calendar. “Wednesday night would be great.”
“Okay, got you down. Take care and I'll see you next week.”
Robin put down the phone, put Evan on her calendar, and looked up. Jake hadn't moved. He was standing there, looking at her with an odd expression. She held up a magazine she had been reading. “Hey,” she said cheerfully, “I found the perfect place for your house—Retro Hardware. I'm going over there this afternoon to look at the stained glass. Have you thought about what you want?”
Jake had thought about what he wanted, all right. Had thought about it pretty much for the last month. One thing he knew for certain, as he walked over to see the pictures Robin was poring over, was that he didn't want Iverson in her life or anywhere near her.
He was not a jealous man by nature, and in fact, he rarely allowed himself to get involved deeply enough to have cause for jealousy. But there was something about Robin that appealed to the deepest parts of him, and there was something about Slick Evan he instinctively did not trust. Evan had a thing for Robin. He could tell just by the way the dude looked at her. At the same time, Jake recognized Evan's role in LTI, understood the interaction with Robin was inevitable. He just had to figure out how to handle it if he was going to pursue something meaningful with Robin, which certainly was his intent.
And as the next few weeks unfurled, Jake spent as much time with Robin as he could, trying to balance school, Cole, and his work with the very real need to be with her. His
reaction to her, both physical and emotional, overpowered all normal operating procedures. Somehow, she was pushing him from the shallows into the deep, so deep that he felt he was treading water when they were apart. He could feel her when she wasn't with him, could feel her hair on his face, her breath on his chest.
That was exhilarating, but it was plenty disturbing, too. He didn't want to feel that. He never wanted to get used to any kind of happiness because it never lasted, and he felt safe in that assumption. This was a silly dream he was living, and while it was one thing to have silly dreams, it was much worse to actually believe they were attainable.
Yeah, something amazing was happening to him. Funny little dreams of fulfillment were beginning to creep into his thoughts, dreams that practically had a white picket fence around them, dreams that included a degree, Robin in his house and his bed, and even Cole, flourishing in high school, preparing for college.
But okay, he wasn't so far gone that he didn't know their evolving relationship wasn't entirely a bed of roses. He was never sure of Robin's feelings, for one thing, didn't know if when the job ended, her feelings wouldn't end right along with it. And while he could feel her affection, there were also certain barriers between them. Like money.
That was an aspect that deeply bothered Jake—he couldn't abide her shopping habits. Robin had no concept of money. She would go to the grocery store and come back with a bag full of shoes. Like one day, when he happened to see the price tag on the end of a shoebox and almost had a coronary—up until that point, he hadn't known it was possible to mortgage a pair of shoes. 'That's insane!“ he had blurted. ”There are people starving in this world and you are paying that for shoes?"