Authors: Mary Whitney
More Than Rivals
More Than Rivals
By
Mary Whitney
eBook Edition
Copyright 2013 by Mary Whitney
Cover Design by Jada D'Lee
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
To learn more about this author and her writing visit
www.WordyMary.com
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“Triple shot latte,” the barista called from behind the counter.
Jack glanced up only long enough to see where his cup had been placed. As he walked toward the counter, his attention turned back to his talking points. There were nine hours before the next day’s first campaign event, and he still needed to memorize his speech, send out a slew of fundraising emails, and read a briefing paper on federal transit funding. At some point, he needed to sleep, though for a while.
When his fingers touched the cup, he startled, but it wasn’t due to the hot milk. A soft hand also laid claim to the drink. “I’m sorry, but I believe this is mine,” a voice said to his right.
He looked over and spotted a petite woman wearing a large sweatshirt with “University of California San Francisco” across the chest. A dark blonde ponytail and the wet tendrils around her neck suggested she’d just come from the gym. He thought he recognized her from somewhere, but he couldn’t place her face. He was too taken by her pretty smile.
“Are you sure?” He chuckled and removed his hand. “It’s a triple shot latte. Not many people order them at ten o’clock at night.”
“Yeah.” She sighed. “Unfortunately, that is what I ordered.”
“No need to fight. I got another one right here,” said the barista, placing another cup on the counter.
John gestured to the two cups. “Ladies first.”
“Thanks. I’ll take this one.”
“Okay.” His eyes drifted down to her legs, bare and toned beneath a pair of running shorts. It was late, and he was busy, but he still wanted to talk to her. “So are you in med school? Is that what makes you have three shots of espresso this late at night?”
“No. I’m a little old for med school, though I am a nurse.” She pointed at her shirt. “And I did go to UCSF.”
“Impressive. That’s a great school.”
“Thanks.” She shrugged with a smile. “It was hard, but fun.”
“Do you work around here?”
“Uh.” She paused. “No. I commute into San Francisco. I work in the ICU at California Pacific.”
“Wow.” He gazed at her for a moment as curiosity took hold of him. Everything about her left him wanting to know more. She was attractive with an interesting job, and the ponytail gave her an air of fun. He nodded toward the door. “They’re about to kick us out of here, but do you want to drink your coffee on the bench outside?”
Her mouth dropped open for a second as if she was debating herself.
“Or…maybe you’re pressed for time?” He extended his hand. “I’m Jack, by the way.”
“Oh.” She glanced around like she was evaluating the situation. After a second, she nodded in approval. “Okay. I’m Lily.”
“Nice to meet you, Lily. Come on. Let’s get some air.”
The August night had begun to cool as he led her to the bench facing Petaluma Boulevard. Lily sat first and stretched her legs out as she sipped her drink. Before he took his seat, he picked up the folded
New York Times
abandoned on the bench. He held it up to her. “Should I recycle this or would you like to read it?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I read it this morning.”
His question wasn’t meant to be a test, but her answer aced it. Considering the town he was in and what she looked like, he wondered if she was telling the truth.
“Really?”
“Well, I didn’t read it
thoroughly
.” She smiled. “I live with my parents. They’re retired. We get four newspapers every morning, so I skim them.”
“Four newspapers?” he asked as he set the paper at his feet.
“Yeah.
The New York Times
,
Wall Street Journal
,
Financial Times
, and
The San Francisco Chronicle
.” She shrugged. “My dad says he needs to keep up, or he’ll lose his wits.”
“You just said you were too old for med school, but you can’t be that old if you still live with your parents.”
“I…uh.” She licked her lips like she was about to make an announcement. “I’m a single mom. I have a son. It’s good to live with my parents.”
Jack wanted to close his eyes in embarrassment. Instead he winced. “I’m really sorry. That was rude and presumptuous of me.”
“Oh, don’t worry.” She waved her hand, tossing his remark aside. “I’m thirty-three and living with
my parents. You can imagine what that can be like at times.”
“Yeah, I live a couple of miles away from mine, and that can be too close.” He smiled, but his eyes lingered on hers. He noticed they were almost black in color. He didn’t know any single mothers, and he certainly wouldn’t have expected one to be like her. She was so pretty and smart.
What man would leave her? Or his kid?
She held his gaze for a moment before taking a long drink. He guessed he’d made her uncomfortable and she wanted to leave. Looking down, he grasped for something to keep her there. He spotted her running shoes and pointed to them. “So you’re a runner?”
“I try.” She patted the back of her hair and touched the dampness. “I just finished a run. I’m kind of a mess.”
“You look great. Especially for coming off a run.” He chuckled, but his voice became more serious. “You’re very pretty.”
“Thanks,” she said, as she looked down and took another sip.
He smiled, hoping he’d made some headway with her. “I used to do a couple of triathlons a year, but I haven’t in a while.”
“What happened? Did you get injured?”
“No. I can’t find the time to train anymore.”
“Oh, that’s too bad, but I understand. I only get out a few times a week.”
“At night? Like this?”
“Well, it’s usually dark.” She laughed. “But sometimes it’s before dawn.”
“Sounds like me.”
“Do you run nearby?”
“No…I don’t live around here.” He pulled his leg up so his left ankle rested on his thigh, and he fiddled with his shoe laces. “I live in San Francisco. I’m here for work.”
“What brings you to Petaluma for work?” She smiled. “I’m guessing it’s not the outlet mall or the grain elevator.”
“Now, why would you say that?” He grinned, easing back on the bench.
“Well, you don’t look like a farmer, and—”
“And you don’t think I work retail?”
She smirked and pointed to his baseball cap. “That glaring ‘S’ on your hat means you probably don’t work at the outlet mall.”
“Glaring?
Glaring
?” He laughed.
“Sorry. I went to Cal.”
“Of course. Berkeley cares about that rivalry so much more than Stanford does.”
“Oh, please. You pretend like you don’t care, but you do.”
“Okay. Maybe I do. I’m a football fan.”
“See.” She had a self-satisfied grin. “So what was your major?”
“History. And you?”
“Poli sci and biology.”
“That’s an unusual combination.”
“Yeah. It’s kind of schizo. I know.”
“Then you went to UCSF?”
She nodded. “And did you go to grad school for whatever it is that brings you to Petaluma?”
“I went to Stanford for both undergrad and law school.”
“Ah,” she said in surprise. “You’re a lawyer? That’s what brings you here.”
He didn’t reply as quickly as he should have. It was the perfect time to tell Lily who he was—the local state senator, now running for Congress, but it would ruin everything. Normally, if he was interested in woman, he’d tell her about his career the moment he had an opportunity. He didn’t want to do that with Lily because he had a feeling she wouldn’t be impressed. In fact, it might have the opposite effect with her. But more than any other reason, he didn’t want to be
that
guy around her. So he decided to simply answer her question. “Yup. I’m a lawyer.”
“I thought about going to law school after undergrad.”
Jack breathed a sigh of relief, knowing he’d done the right thing. She might have rolled her eyes if he’d launched into his resume. He chuckled. “Skipping law school can be a smart move. What made you decide not to?”
“I knew I wanted to do something to help people. I thought if I became a nurse, I could always go to law school. It would even be an asset that I’d had a medical career. But it wouldn’t really work vice versa. I mean, really, what medical profession cares if you were once a lawyer?”
“That makes a lot of sense.”
“Anyway, I may go back to school one day.” She shrugged and smiled. “We’ll see how things play out.”
“Huh.” He lifted his cap and absentmindedly ran his hand through his hair. “I can’t imagine going back to school at this point. I’d be horrible at it.”
As he turned to her again, he wanted to flirt and say she’d probably be a wiz at school. He thought better of it when he noticed her staring him down. “Is something wrong?” he asked and looked behind him.
“Nothing,” she said with a gulp. “You just look different without the baseball cap.”
“Oh. Yeah.” He eyed her wondering if maybe she’d recognized him, but he doubted it. She seemed like a forthright person who would say something if she knew who he was. He lowered the hat closer to his ears. “I probably have hat head.”
“No. Not at all,” she said quickly. “You look…good.”
“Good?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Good. I mean…really good.” Her lips turned up into a self-conscious smile. She waited a moment and added, “I don’t know if you’re fishing for a compliment or trying to make me blush.”
“I seem to be doing a good job of both.”
“Damn it,” she whispered and suppressed a smile.
He shook his head because she was too damn cute. “So you went for a run, and now you’re drinking caffeine. What’s keeping you up this late?”
“Just busy,” she squeaked. She pulled at her sleeve and glanced at her bare wrist. “Do you know what time it is? I don’t have a watch on.”
“It’s ten-thirty,” he said checking his watch.
“I should get going.”
“I guess it is getting late.” He twisted his mouth wondering what would be the best way to ask for her number, but she interrupted his thought.
“Time for me to run home.” She rose from the bench and offered a handshake. “Nice talking to you, Jack. Have a good night.”
“Wait.” Ignoring her hand, he stood up. “Don’t just run off. I’d like to see you again.”
“I don’t really have time.” Her expression saddened. “And what free time I have I spend with my son.”
“I understand. That’s important.” He smiled. “But you run. Maybe we could go for a run some time?”
“I don’t think so.” Her eyes darted around the street like she was on watch for something.
The rejection cut at him because he thought they’d connected. It hadn’t felt one-sided, and even as they stood there, he sensed an awkward energy coming from her. He decided to lay things on the line. “Come on. You’re the prettiest, most interesting woman I’ve met in a long time. Let me see you again.” He smiled. “I promise I won’t wear my Stanford cap.”
A bashful smile spread across her face as she touched the necklace peeking out from her sweatshirt. “Well, that’s a start. I’d like to see you again, too. And it’s been years...” Her face became grim, and she shook her head. “But we can’t. You’ll understand.”