Floyd hesitated. “I’m pretty sure. When I told her I was moving out, she didn’t say a word to stop me. The way I figure it, if she really loved me, she would’ve asked me to stay.”
“What if she assumed that if you really loved her, you’d never want to move?”
Floyd stared at her. “You think that’s what she might’ve thought?”
“I don’t know, but it’s worth asking, don’t you think?”
“Yeah… I do,” Floyd said, his voice revealing the first enthusiasm she’d heard all evening. He raised his car window, then quickly lowered it again. “Jamie?”
“Yes?” She was halfway toward the outside stairs that led to her second-floor condominium.
“Would you mind if I used your phone? My cell’s dead, and I’d like to give Carolyn a call to see if she wants to talk.”
“Sure.” Smiling, she opened her purse and took out her key. If she’d mentioned this earlier she thought wryly, she might’ve been home two hours ago.
Floyd parked his car, then hurried up the stairs with her. He resembled a young boy, he was so eager. She unlocked the door and flipped on the light switch. Floyd immediately headed for her phone.
Jamie made herself scarce for a couple of minutes, going into her bedroom to remove her shoes. She hung up her jacket and eased her gray blouse from her waistband. Before leaving her bedroom, she slipped her feet into her fuzzy open-toed slippers. Then she went into the kitchen and put the kettle on the burner. As soon as Floyd was gone, she planned to relax with a cup of herbal tea.
“Carolyn agrees we should talk,” Floyd announced triumphantly as he replaced the telephone receiver. “She sounded pleased to hear from me. Do you think she’s lonely? I doubt it,” he answered his own question before Jamie had a chance. “Carolyn always did have lots of friends, and she isn’t one to sit home and cry in her soup, if you know what I mean.”
Jamie nodded. “I hope this works out for you.”
“Me, too. I’ll be heading out now,” Floyd said. “She’s getting a sitter for the kids and she’s going to meet me for a cup of coffee.”
The doorbell chimed then, in long impatient bursts. Floyd’s gaze swung to Jamie. She couldn’t imagine who’d be arriving this late.
She walked past Floyd and opened her door. No sooner had she turned the lock than Rich raced in as though he was there to put out a fire.
“Where the hell have you been?” he demanded. “I’ve been half out of my—” He stopped midstep and midsentence when he caught sight of Floyd and the color drained from his face. His eyes widened with shock, disbelief and…could it be pain? Slowly he turned toward Jamie.
“Floyd, this is Rich Manning,” she said, gesturing from one to the other. “Rich, Floyd Bacon.”
Floyd held out his hand, and for a moment, Jamie feared Rich wasn’t going to take it. He did so, but with ill grace. “I take it Jamie didn’t mention me,” he said sarcastically.
“Ah…no,” Floyd said, rubbing his palms together. He eyed the front door. “Listen, I was just leaving.”
“No need to rush,” Rich said, sitting down on the sofa and crossing his long legs. He stretched his arm against the back of the cushions, giving the impression that he had plenty of time to sit and chat. “I’m interested in hearing how the two of you spent the evening.” His smile lacked warmth or welcome.
“Rich,” Jamie said, stepping forward. She’d never seen him like this, so sarcastic and ill-mannered.
One look from him cut her to the quick. Rarely had anyone looked at her with such…disdain. He studied her, from her slippers to the blouse she’d pulled free from her skirt, and his eyes narrowed, damning her.
“Jamie’s an old friend,” Floyd explained. “I was in the bank this afternoon and…well, you see, my wife and I have separated, and Jamie—”
“So you’re married, too.”
“Too?” Frowning, Floyd turned to Jamie for an explanation.
“Yes,” Rich said in a deceptively calm voice. “Jamie and I’ve been married…what is it now, darling, a month?”
“Rich,” she warned him under her breath. He might be her legal husband, a man she’d known and respected for more than a decade, but seeing him behave like this, talk like this, he seemed like a total stranger.
“Jamie. My goodness,” Floyd said, sounding astonished. “You didn’t say a word about being married. Congratulations! I wish you’d said something earlier.”
“So do I,” Rich added caustically.
Once again Floyd glanced at the door. “I’d like to stay and chat, but I really should leave. My wife and I are going to meet and talk… Jamie was the one who suggested it. Well, actually, I came up with the idea of calling Carolyn, but Jamie helped me see that it was the right thing to do.” He spoke rapidly, the words coming out so fast they tumbled over one another. “I’ll see you later.”
Jamie held the door for him. “Thanks for dinner,” she said as graciously as the circumstances allowed.
“Thanks for dinner,” Rich mimicked derisively as Floyd went out the door.
Jamie felt a storm threatening. One of anger and frustration. The thundercloud was sitting directly behind her, and she did her best to restrain her indignation. After taking a moment to compose herself, she turned around. “Is something bothering you, Rich?” she asked in a level voice.
He leapt off the sofa as though he’d been sitting on a giant spring. “Is something bothering me?” he repeated coldly. “What do you think you’re doing, dating that joker?”
“It wasn’t a date.”
“I heard you thank him for dinner.” He spat out the words as though to have to say them was a detestable task. “At least you could’ve returned my phone calls.”