When the kitchen remodel work was finished on the house Dan and Conner had been concentrating on for the past two weeks, Conner volunteered to drive over the mountain to Paul’s new office location to pick up the specs for the next job he wanted them to tackle. The trailer sat on the property for the big custom job; the foundation had been poured, the house was framed and huge.
Inside the trailer he found Paul, not in his office but perched on a sawhorse at the big plywood-fashioned table, his laptop and a lot of paper spread out. And the look on his face was, frankly, frustrated. “What’s up, boss?” Conner asked.
“Fixtures, that’s what. I’ve got a big renovation in Clear River and I don’t know how I can make the owner happy and bring it in on budget. They have pictures from Architecture Monthly—top-of-the-line stuff—and I can’t find most of it at builder’s cost anywhere.”
“Let me see,” Conner said.
Paul handed over magazine cutouts.
Ah. This was what Conner did. He sold to custom builders. He looked at the pictures. “Nice. Monticello brass. Tuscan accents. Brushed nickel faucets, I like that. But this brass basin? I’d try to talk them out of that if I were you—pretty, but a godawful pain in the butt to keep from spotting. I don’t like brass around water so much, but I’ll be the first to admit it’s classy. Brass accents is one thing, but… Hmm, and nice lighting—this shouldn’t be hard. You wouldn’t think Italian accents would work in a mountain house, but in thinking about it…perfect. Let me use the laptop a second, I think I know where we can find some of this stuff. Manufacturer prices.”
“Really?” Paul said, turning his computer toward Conner.
“I’ll try. I know some wholesalers who carry some of this stuff, or damn close replicas.” He did a search, and in minutes he found the widespread faucets, the chandeliers, the spigots and showerheads, the cupboard knobs and handles. He scribbled down the order codes and prices. He launched into one item after another, found them, wrote down the specs. Some items were tougher than others—some weren’t available at cost. “Try this alternative on the client—it’s good quality, equal in value and, if you ask me, a fine-looking showerhead. Might even be better—it’s a Koen and comes with a kick-ass lifetime guarantee.” And he went on, through the kitchen and a few bathrooms, finding the actual items or good alternatives at even better prices.
“How’d you do that?” Paul asked.
“Paul, it’s what I do. Kitchens and bathrooms.”
“Yeah, but you do it like a contractor, not a finisher.”
“The boss relied on me a lot. This is the kind of stuff I looked into all the time. Good hardware and contractors’ prices.”
“Thanks,” Paul said, staring at a sheet of paper with lots of prices, order numbers and internet addresses. “Next time I’m not going to waste so much time. I’ll just call you.”
“Absolutely,” Conner said. “I’d be happy to help.”
Paul looked at him a bit oddly. “Sometimes I think there’s more to you than meets the eye.”
Conner laughed. “You have no idea. Do you have the specs for the next kitchen job? Dan and I will get started tomorrow if the owners are ready.”
“Right here,” Paul said, handing over some rolled-up architectural plans. “You’ll tear out the existing kitchen in the next two to three days, get your flooring, raw cabinetry, granite cut to size, hardware and fixtures delivered over the next ten days. Make it happen.”
“Big job,” Conner said, looking through the plans.
“Good bid, too. We want to be on time. If you need help, let me know and I’ll send over extra crew. I want these folks happy. They have a lot of friends.”
“You bet.”
“And, Conner, I wanted to talk to you about something else.”
Conner lifted his eyebrows.
“Leslie,” Paul said. “She’s not here right now. She’s gone to Eureka for supplies for the office. But I wanted to talk to you about her.”
Conner thought for a minute and then said, “Shoot.”
Paul took a breath. Whatever it was, it wasn’t easy for him. “I like you. Brie vouches for you. Dan says you’re a good worker and conscientious. Dan trusts you and he’s a hard sell. I don’t have any reason to doubt you or suspect you, so it’s not about that. But Les has been almost a part of the family for ten years and she’s been through a lot lately. I don’t want her to go through a lot more.”
Conner gave a short nod. Word traveled fast; no surprise there. “Perfectly understandable. But you should talk to her, not me. Tell her what worries you, because I’m not looking to complicate anyone’s life.”
One corner of Paul’s mouth curved. “She seems happy.”
Conner almost smiled. “How about me? Do I seem happy?”
Paul laughed. “I couldn’t read you if my life depended on it.”
“Let me ask you something. Don’t read anything into this, but when you were dating your wife, did a lot of people question you? Have a lot of opinions about your motives and behavior? Your intentions? Before you were even sure yourself?”
That brought a really big laugh out of Paul. “Yeah,” he said. “Everybody and their brother. And have you met my father-in-law?” He shook his head with another laugh. He stood and stuck out a hand. “Good luck, buddy.”
Conner took the hand. “Thanks. I think.”
“Don’t mess her up.”
“She doesn’t seem like the kind of woman who’s real fragile or neurotic. In fact, I think she’s the most normal woman I’ve dated. Ever.”
“I just hope you’re the most normal guy she’s ever dated,” Paul told him. “Because I met the last one, and she’s due a normal guy.”
April disappeared with a shower, and May arrived in the mountains with enough glowing sun to set the roadsides and hills on fire with color as the wildflowers took over. Conner borrowed Luke Riordan’s Harley and took Leslie on a ride through the hills one Sunday afternoon. They rode through the mountains out to the ocean cliffs, through the redwoods and down through vineyards.
They stopped for a while on a hilltop to enjoy a breathtaking view, but the view only occupied them for a little while, and soon they were reclined on the grass, making out like teenagers.
“You’re tempting,” he told her. “I could get you naked right here, but there’d be a risk.”
“Oh?”
“Well, there’s a road for one thing. We could get into each other, like we do, and not hear an approaching car or truck until it’s too late. Or, we could get fire ants in our underwear and really pay.”
“Let’s stop at the grocery, get a couple of filets, two potatoes, some mushrooms and asparagus and go home. You can grill the steak and asparagus and I’ll be in charge of the potatoes and mushrooms.”
“Deal,” he said, standing and helping her up.
Later, when they were enjoying an after-dinner libation—her Merlot and his beer—she said, “I hope this doesn’t scare you, but I can’t remember ever feeling this calm.”
“Why would that scare me?”
“I know you aren’t really into the idea of any kind of permanence. But I feel so much better than I can ever remember feeling.”
The idea of permanence sounded great. It just wasn’t a luxury he could afford at the moment. A lot had to be worked out first. “Why do you suppose that is?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because I’m not dancing as fast as I can. Conner, I seriously didn’t realize how hard I had to work at my relationship with Greg. I was used to people saying marriage was hard work and I bought it. I don’t think I understood what they meant—I think what I didn’t get was that both people were supposed to be working at it, not just one of us.”
Oh, man, am I going to upset her calm world, Conner thought. “All couples are going to have issues,” he said. “We just haven’t had any lately.”
“Somehow I think it’s going to be different with you.”
“Why is that?”
“You seem to enjoy the calm as much as I do.”
He took a swig of beer. “Oh, baby, I do. But that doesn’t mean trouble won’t find me.”
She just shrugged, happily oblivious. “Well, I guess if something comes up, we’ll play the hand we’re dealt.”
I can’t put this off much longer, he found himself thinking. Even though he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone, he knew he could trust Leslie with his life. He couldn’t help it, he’d wait just a little longer. Because the respite from the hard life was just too good to give up prematurely.
Jack Sheridan was wiping down the bar at about three-thirty in the afternoon when a man he’d never seen before came in. Nothing unusual in that—people were passing through all the time. But this guy wasn’t the usual—this guy was not a hunter, camper, fisherman or hiker. Not a mountain guy, but more of a Gentlemen’s Quarterly kind of guy. He wore a starched white shirt, open at the collar with the sleeves rolled up. He had pleated pants, fancy loafers and carried a sports coat or blazer or something.
“Hey,” Jack said amiably.
“Hi.” He jumped up on a stool. “Beer?”
“Absolutely. You have a preference?”
“Not really. Something imported?”
Jack laughed. “Sure thing,” he said, pulling a Heineken out of the cooler and popping the top. “Glass or bottle?”
“Chilled glass, please,” the man said. Then he pulled out his cell phone and thumbed through his panel of selections.
“You’re not going to have a lot of success with that. Our cell reception in town isn’t so good. Down 36 toward Fortuna it gets better. I have a landline, if that would help.”
“Do you mind? I have to call my wife.”
“In the kitchen, help yourself. Don’t let the cook scare you.” The man froze. “Kidding,” Jack said with a wry smile. “He looks a little scary, but he’s a pussycat. Honest.”
With a slight hesitation, he made his way to the kitchen. In just a couple of minutes he was back, and within seconds, Preacher was tailing him standing behind the bar next to Jack. Preacher’s white apron was a mess today, which made him look slightly scarier than usual, plus he was frowning darkly. It took Jack only a few seconds to decide Preacher hadn’t liked what he’d overheard the man saying on the phone or he wouldn’t be here.
Jack poured himself a cup of coffee and a seltzer for Preacher.
“So, I’m Jack. Passing through?”
The man immediately put out his hand, which was very soft and pretty. “Greg,” he said. “Yes, just here for an hour or so.”
“What kind of mission brings a man to Virgin River for an hour? Buying property for someone?” Because, surely not for himself.
“Well, not that it’s any of your business, but I want to talk to my wife. Ex-wife. She lives here. We have a couple of things to discuss and I thought a public place might be more agreeable to her than having me drop in on her. Unannounced.”
“Excellent idea,” Jack said.
Preacher crossed his arms over his chest. He glowered.
“She’ll be stopping by?” Jack asked.
“Hard to say,” Greg said. “We were disconnected.”
“Ah,” Jack said. That was fancy-man talk for she hung up on me. “Anyone I know?”
The man tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. Then he shot a quick glance at Preacher. He cleared his throat. “Leslie Adams.” He cleared his throat again. “Petruso. Leslie Petruso.”
“Ah, Leslie,” Jack said, grinning. “Sure. Good friend of ours, right, Preach?”
Preacher glared at the guy briefly, then turned and went back to the kitchen.
Now Jack wasn’t a genius, but he knew Preacher. This guy, Greg, must have said something ungentlemanly to Leslie to warrant Preacher following him back into the bar. And of course Jack knew this was the guy Leslie had nailed with the fire extinguisher. Jack would’ve paid to see that.
“Leslie’s well liked around here, as you might guess,” Jack said.
“She’s well liked everywhere,” he said. “I’ve been a little worried about her since she’s been down here. Alone.”
“She’s not alone, my friend. Paul Haggerty looks out for her, as do others. She seems to be getting along very well.”
“I heard she’s seeing someone,” Greg said. “I wonder, do you know who that might be?”
Jack decided to lie. “People don’t normally run their romances by me. Couldn’t tell you.”
Greg shook his head solemnly. “I wish she were back home. Where I could look after her better.”
“Unless I misunderstood you, pardner, not only are you divorced, you indicated she has someone new to look out for her now.”
“That’s not a good thing, Jack,” he said. “No one knows Leslie like I do.”
Jack gave the counter a nice, serious wipe-down. “Interesting that the two of you divorced. Sounds like you were pretty close.”
“We’re still close. We’ll always be close. You don’t spend almost ten years with a woman without being extremely bonded. That’s what we are, Jack. Bonded. Leslie needs me. Oh, sometimes she doesn’t want to admit it and I get that—I am remarried. But I know what’s good for Leslie even if she doesn’t.”
Jack was silent for a moment. A long moment. He was thinking about how his wife would make him pay for a comment like that, and they were still married. That wouldn’t float too well at his house. Mel didn’t like being “managed.” “You must be a very insightful man,” Jack said.
“I have my moments,” he said, lifting his beer to his lips.
Yeah, but I don’t think now is one of those moments, Jack thought.
Leslie answered the phone on her desk. “Haggerty Construction, Leslie speaking.”
“Leslie, it’s Greg. We need to talk.”
She took a deep breath. “Has there been a death in the family?” she asked crisply.
“No! Of course not!”
“Have you decided to give me a big pot of the money you hid while we were divorcing?”
“No! I mean, I didn’t—”
“Then we don’t have anything to talk about.”
“Leslie! Wait! Listen, I’ve been visiting with your parents!”
She was struck silent for a moment. “Whatever for?”
“I’ve been checking on them and keeping tabs on you. They tell me you’re seeing someone now. We better talk about that.”
“All right, now listen,” she said sternly. “Who I might be dating is none of your business and I don’t want you pestering my parents. They don’t like you!”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “They’re very nice to me!”
“They’re nice people! You better leave them alone or…or…or I’ll sic Paul on you.”
“Watch that temper, Leslie! There’s no reason to be so defiant, just listen to me a second. I’m here. I’m in Virgin River at that little bar in town and I’m not leaving until you meet me. I thought a public place might suit you better, make you feel less threatened….”
“Make me feel less threatened?” She laughed out loud. “Bullshit, Greg! You think I won’t hurt you in a public place? But you wasted your time. I’m not meeting you. We have nothing to talk about.”
“If you don’t, I’ll find out where you live and come to your house. Seriously, I’m not leaving without seeing you. We have to discuss this man you’re—”
She disconnected the cordless. “Goddamn it,” she muttered. And she wondered how she’d been married to him for so long without realizing what an idiotic pain in the ass he was. She briefly wondered if he had slipped drugs into her tea throughout their marriage.
She did not want to see him, talk to him. She was a little bit afraid that if she didn’t go to Jack’s, Greg was just going to make her life here so much more complicated. She did not want him to upset her relationship with Conner. She was truly happy for the first time in so long. She banged the phone on the top of her desk several times and swore.
Paul was quickly standing in her doorway. “Problem?”
She grabbed her purse and keys. “I have to run out, Paul.” She looked at her watch. “It’s late—I’m not going to make it back here today. I’ll come in early tomorrow….”
“You don’t have to come in early. Something wrong?”
“That man is getting on my last nerve,” she said.
“Conner?”
“God, no. Conner is a gem. Conner is perfect. Greg Adams.”
“What’s he doing now?”
“Waiting for me at Jack’s. Apparently my parents told him I’m seeing someone and he wants to discuss it with me.”
“Why?”
“I don’t have the first idea, but he’s threatening to wait me out or even show up at my house. I better get over there before Jack’s fills up with people and there’s an audience.”
Paul stepped aside so she could pass. “Want me to go with you?”
“Don’t be silly, Paul. I can take him.”
If Jack’s had been an old Western saloon and Leslie had been wearing six-guns on her hips, her entrance would have blended perfectly. She blew in, loaded for bear. By the time she arrived, there were a couple of men at a table by a window sharing a pitcher, but thankfully that was all. Within a half hour, the dinner crowd would begin to arrive.
Greg turned to see her enter. He smiled. She scowled and walked up to the bar, but she didn’t sit down.
“Drink, Les?” Jack asked.
“No. Greg, I don’t want to discuss anything with you unless you’re here to give me a big check. I want you to go home. And I want you to leave my parents and me alone.”
“Leslie, Leslie… Honey, I know this transition is difficult—”
“Don’t call me honey! It is not a transition and it is not difficult. It’s a divorce and I’ve discovered it’s the best thing that ever happened to me. Now, listen to me, please. We’re done. We’re over. You left me! You have a pregnant wife in Grants Pass. You—”
“Pregnant wife?” Jack repeated. Jack being Jack, he wasn’t far from the conversation.
“Don’t you have something to do?” Greg asked him.
“No,” Jack said. “Buddy, you gotta let go….”
“You don’t understand,” Greg said to Jack. He turned to Leslie. “This doesn’t have to be so adversarial, Leslie. I only want to help because I care about you. I just thought maybe we should talk about this guy you’re seeing because, well…” He reached for her hand, and she snatched it away. “Okay, well, this may be hard to hear, but you’re on the rebound. People can make serious mistakes on the rebound.”
“I. Am. Not.”
“It’s not the length of time that’s the deciding factor, Leslie,” he said. “It’s really about the emotional investment. And believe me, I know how hard our divorce was for you.”
“It’s not hard anymore. I feel like you did me a monumental favor. Now go.”
“Just tell me who he is, Leslie. Tell me about him. I don’t want to worry about you.”
“You lost that privilege, Greg. I no longer discuss my personal business with you.”
He shook his head. “Your bitterness speaks for itself. There must be something about this guy that worries you or you wouldn’t be so defensive.”
“There’s something about you that worries me. If you come down here one more time I’m going to call Allison and suggest she have you committed.”
“Seriously,” Jack said. “I’m a little worried about you, too, buddy. You got a bun in the oven up there and you’re still hanging around here, bothering the ex?”
Greg turned sharply toward Jack. “Can you go find something to do?”
Jack shrugged. “I could, but this is fascinating. And it’s my bar.” Then he smiled.
Greg sighed in frustration. He turned back to Leslie. “Let’s get right to it.”
She rested an elbow on the bar and let her head drop into her hand. She groaned. She swore under her breath.
“The fact is, whether you realize it or not, you’ve had a blow to your self-esteem, and you’re in no condition to get involved with some guy you don’t really know. I knew when I made the hard choice to leave that I would have to be prepared to help see you through it, and I will, Leslie. Because I care about you. Because even though I don’t love you as my wife, I love you as my best friend and always will.”
“I am not your best friend. I am not even your casual friend. And my self-esteem has never been healthier.”
“And so even though it’s reasonable for you to be in denial, I know that losing me destroyed you. It was like hitting bottom for you and I don’t want you to reach out to a man who isn’t good for you. Not when I’m prepared to help you through the crisis. We both know you’ve never had a strong self-image, that you’ve always struggled with your perception of yourself. All I want to do is help. You have more potential than you realize, Leslie. Let me help.”
She stared at him in dumb wonder for a minute. The irony was—not only did he believe this to be true, there was a time it actually had been. His leaving had shattered her. Every time she’d seen him with the new pretty, smart, accomplished young woman, it had hurt. He thought he was God’s gift to women, and if he left his wife, she must be devastated.
Oh, how it pissed her off that she had been!
She turned her back on him and stomped away, charging through the swinging door to the kitchen. Preacher looked up from the stove and lifted his eyebrows, wondering what she was doing there.
She looked around. Then she saw it. The fire extinguisher was mounted on the wall in the kitchen by the back door. She rushed to it, snatched it off the brackets that held it and made for the bar.
If Jack hadn’t been following her to see what the devil she was up to, he might not have been in time. He was right near the door as she came back through; she was freeing the hose and positioning her hands on the handle. She was aiming. Preacher was right behind her, but not fast enough.
“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” Jack said, circling her waist with one arm and lifting her clear of the floor. “Hold on there!”
“Did you hear what he said to me?” she ground out angrily. “That his leaving destroyed me? That I now have no self-esteem because he left me?”
“Yeah, I couldn’t miss that. He’s an idiot. I’ll throw him out for you,” Jack said.
“No! This is the only thing he understands!”
“Aw, Les, it’s so messy….”
“It’s not as messy as me killing him!”
Jack smirked. He stole a look at Greg, who was backing away a little nervously, unknowingly making himself a better target.
“You have to help clean up the mess,” Jack said to Leslie.
“Certainly,” she said.
“All right, then.” He let her go.
She ran around the bar and fired. This time there was no warning, no countdown, no compassion. She hit him square in the chest, face, arms, legs and in the back as he ran away, yelling.
“You are an insane fucking bitch!” he screamed, looking a little like a snowman as he ran into the street.
Leslie turned back to the bar. Laughing.
“It wasn’t that messy,” she said. “I got most of it on him. I’ll have that drink now.”
Jack served her up her preferred Merlot and handed her a rag from behind the bar. “He seems to have forgotten his sports coat.”
“Church rummage sale,” she said, lifting it with one finger and handing it over the bar to Jack. She propped the fire extinguisher on the bar stool beside her, as if it was her date. “I don’t think he’ll be back for it. Too bad they’ll never get what it’s worth. I’m sure it’s expensive.”
She turned toward the door just in time to see Conner and Paul enter the bar together, no doubt having seen Greg. She lifted her drink toward them in a little toast.
“She did it again,” Paul said to Conner.
“That’s my girl,” Conner said to Paul.
