Next to You (5 page)

“
J
ared
! Wait!”

She broke into a run to keep up with his angry stride.
Shit.
She hadn’t meant to make him mad. How was she supposed to know?

“Damn it, will you stop?” she yelled at his back. His muscles were tight and tense beneath his form fitting tee shirt, rippling with every step he took away from her.
Damn it all!
Why hadn't Cherise told her about his face?

Jared Connor didn’t stop, didn’t pause, didn’t even slow down. Clearly, he couldn’t get away from her fast enough. She followed him right, then left, as he traversed the path through her garden. Her breathing grew heavier. She was so out of shape. No surprise there. She'd spent a substantial chunk of the past year lying in bed, recuperating from one surgery or another.

“I’m sorry,” she wheezed. Her run tapered off to a jog, then she stopped entirely, out of breath. “I understand, Jared.”

That stopped him. He turned around, giving her a good full-on view of his face. The right side was rippled with scars from his hairline all the way down to his neck, where the scars disappeared beneath the cotton of his shirt. The left side of his face was less damaged, though, and Phlox's breath caught in her throat as she saw how handsome he'd once been. Hollywood handsome. Chiseled jaw, straight nose, strong cheekbones. His blonde hair was a little shaggy at the moment, but appealingly highlighted from all the time he spent outside in the sun.

Her eyes dropped to his chest, which looked as hard and ripped as it had felt when he carried her into the house, then to his thighs, the muscles clearly outlined in tension beneath his jeans. He had a perfect body beneath what used to be a perfect face.

It must be hard, she thought, to go from being so incredibly attractive to … this. She looked him in the eye again. She didn’t find him ugly, though. There was a dignity to him even as he stood there, his posture daring her to run away. And she knew he had a tender, caring side. Warmth rushed through her body as she remembered the touch of his calloused hands on her knees, gently cleaning the skin and taping a bandage on each. How had she not noticed his face then? Had she been that close to going into shock? Obviously, she had.

They couldn’t just keep standing there, staring at each other. She had to say something. She wanted him to understand that she knew what it was like to have a face like that.

“I’m sorry, Jared. I didn’t mean to—" Her hand touched her cheek. “I know what it’s—”

His dark eyes flared with anger and she involuntarily took a step back.

“No. You don’t. People like you fucking well do not know what it’s like,” he spit out. His narrowed eyes raked over her from head to toe. “Thank you for the muffins, etcetera. Now leave me alone. I just work here.”  

He turned on his heel and walked away, slamming the cottage door behind him.

I just work here.
Except Phlox and Zee’s employees didn’t “just work” for them. That’s not how they viewed their employees. When needed, back in the early days of the company, Phlox and Zee had gone without paychecks so they could make payroll for everyone else. Even as the company had grown, they still tried to know everyone by name, know something about their lives and families. Employees were important to them … even angry reclusive caretaker employees.

She trudged back to the house, barefoot. She wasn’t even wearing shoes because it was so damn early in the morning. The stack of baskets were still sitting on the porch. She picked them up and carried them into the kitchen, where the pot of coffee was now ready. She looked at the plate of pistachio muffins sitting on the island and her stomach turned at the thought of eating one.

She was getting a little sick of muffins and cookies, not to mention frozen pizzas and supermarket salads. To cook more, though, she would have to use the range. She would have to turn on the gas. Even though she’d been here nearly a week, her heart still raced every time she put her hand on one of the range’s shiny knobs. Intellectually, she knew it wouldn’t happen again. It was more likely that she’d be hit by lightning. But the fear was bone deep. Just standing in front of the range made her muscles go weak and shaky.

She sat down on an island stool and drank her coffee. Jared was wrong. She wasn’t one of the “people like you” who didn’t understand what it was like to have the kind of face most people associated with monsters. Frankenstein. Quasimodo. The Phantom of the Opera. Phlox had lived through that herself, an experience she wouldn’t wish on her worst enemy.

She pressed her fingers to her cheek, then her sternum. Of course, he wouldn’t realize that she had shared that experience. There was no way for him to know that. Phlox had gold-plated insurance and enough money to pay for whatever the insurance hadn’t covered. She’d been able to hire a team of plastic surgeons to fix her right up. It only took thirty-two operations, but now when people passed her on the street, they no longer flinched. It was only Phlox who did a double take, every time she caught a glimpse of her new face reflected in the window of a store or a taxi parked at the curb.

As she poured another cup of coffee, she wondered how Jared had gotten burned and what his care afterward had been like. She picked up her phone and called Cherise.

“Good morning, Phlox. This is your one call.”

Phlox sighed. “I am aware of that.”

“Then what can I do for you on this lovely Friday?”

“Did we extend full benefits to Jared Connor?”

“The caretaker? Of course. He’s a full-time employee.”

“Was he sent a benefits packet?”

“That I don’t know. I can check with HR.”

“Will you do that for me, Cherise? And let me know. Also, can you do me another favor?”

“Sure. What is it?”

“In my apartment, there’s a photo album. It has a black leather cover and it’s in the bottom left drawer of my desk in my home office. Can you overnight that to me? Rye can give you a key.”

Cherise was silent on the other end. Probably pressing some sort of panic button to alert Zee.

“I can do that,” her assistant said finally. “Is everything okay up there?”

“Yes. Did you interview the caretaker in person?”

There was silence on the other end. Then Cherise replied. “Not in person, no. I spoke to him on the phone and his references were glowing. Why? If you don’t like him, I can find someone else.”

“No. It’s fine. He’s doing a terrific job. I just wondered. Call me if you can’t find the photo album.”

She set her phone back down on the island and took another long sip of coffee. She hadn’t looked at that photo album in months and it was the last thing she wanted to look at now. Or ever again, for that matter. It was filled with photographs taken of her in the hospital immediately after the accident, then before and after each surgery. Some were selfies, some were photos she had forced her parents or brother to take. Everyone had questioned the wisdom of it, but Phlox had done it anyway. It was the scientist in her. She had needed some record of the process—documentation of the problem, the hypothesis and the outcome.

She spent the rest of the day monitoring comments online about the A2Z Cream. She was still shaken by the morning’s encounter with the caretaker but working always focused her mind, focused her emotions. Between the two of them, Zee was the people person. Phlox was more comfortable with numbers and results. If Jared Connor could be reduced to a specific quantifiable problem, then Phlox would be able to come up with a solution.

Obviously, he had not received the same kind of medical care that Phlox had after her accident. Plastic surgery at this point might not completely restore his face, but it could help. Maybe enough to make him less self conscious about it. She could check with Dr. Ryan. Insurance wouldn’t cover Dr. Ryan at a hundred percent but Phlox could pick up the difference. As his employer, she could give him the time off he needed to recuperate. She could pay for a therapist. Personally, she hadn’t found her own post-accident therapy sessions to be all that useful but others often did.

She opened up a new file on her computer and began listing all the things needed to help Jared Connor. Then she clicked it closed. In theory, she could help him. But, as Rye was forever pointing out to her, people were not scientific inquiries to be looked into. She barely knew Jared Connor, but she knew enough to realize that he would never let her help him.

J
ared was pulling
weeds in the garden and fuming.

Jared! I understand.
The fuck if she did.

He’d probably be fired by the end of the day, as soon as the owner found out he’d nearly bitten the head off her guest. He shouldn’t have done that. Yes, she was being way too forward and nosy for her own good but that was no excuse for his behavior. Most people just stared in horror at him, gasped and exited his presence as quickly as they could. He should be used to it by now.

Then there was the raging hard-on he had gotten when she had tried to massage his phony leg cramp. He hoped she hadn’t noticed that. No employment reference there, that was for sure.
He was great with the flowers but a bit of a pervert.

He heard the sound of a car door shutting. He walked toward the house, then stopped short at the sight of a sleek black BMW parked in the driveway.
Another guest? Just what I need.
A tall man in a conservatively-cut suit unfolded himself from the car. He looked like an attorney, Jared thought.
I’m about to be fired. Well, can’t say I didn’t earn it.

Just then the front door to the house flew open and the woman raced across the porch and down the steps. He held his breath until her feet were safely on the ground. She was tempting fate, that one. Jared watched as she threw her arms around the man’s neck, beaming up at him, obviously happy to see him.
Maybe not the attorney. Maybe the boyfriend.

Jared retreated quietly back to the garden, picked up his shears and recoiled the hose. So her boyfriend was up for the weekend. Well, they probably wouldn’t want him around, working and preventing them from enjoying the grounds or the pool. Owners and guests generally wanted him out of sight when they were around. Reachable in case they needed something, but otherwise invisible.

Heaven knows, Jared liked to be invisible. He had no problem with that. Things were in good shape around the property. There were still some weeds to trim out on the perimeter but those could wait until next week. He doubted the guests would venture that far out. Probably he should have warned her about the recent black bear sightings.
Mr. Big City will protect her, right?
Jared snorted. He was probably right about the guy being an attorney. She was dating a lawyer. Great. Just his luck.

He stomped the mud from his work boots, harder and louder than necessary—as if he could stomp out the bubble of irritation rising in his chest. Why did he care if her boyfriend was an attorney? He didn’t give a shit. Maybe they would spend all weekend in bed boning each other’s brains out and then leave on Sunday without him seeing either of them again. That would be ideal.

He unlaced his work boots and traded them for hiking boots. Then he grabbed his keys and hopped into the truck. He had no particular destination in mind when he started out but he soon found himself heading northwest toward one of the state parks. Connecticut was surprisingly green and lush; that had surprised him when he moved east after selling the company. The state’s cities were in bad shape but once you got outside those, there were miles of winding country roads, snaking rivers, and rolling hills. Cycling and kayaking were popular pastimes.

Personally, Jared liked to hike. He loved the smell of pine and the softness of wet earth beneath his boots. He liked being surprised by a breathtaking view at the top of a trail. He liked the solitude of it.

He knew all the trails in the park, including the section of the Appalachian Trail that crossed through it. Today, he chose the most difficult trail. There would be fewer people on it, he reasoned, and he liked the little clearing at the top where one could sit and look out over miles and miles of trees. Jared wanted to just zone out for awhile, reset his equilibrium after the stress of the week. He’d founded and built a technology company, then negotiated its sale to Google, but none of that had been more stressful than just being around people. Computers didn’t care what you looked like. Nor did money, for that matter.

The trail made a five-mile loop, with the first half a winding ascent. After the first mile, Jared’s thighs were burning with exertion but the pain felt good. It kept his mind off other things he’d rather not think about. Like what the woman at the house was doing right now. Specifically what she was doing with her boyfriend. If he had to take a wild guess, he’d say she wasn’t baking muffins with him. Her muffins were delicious but—hell—Jared didn’t want to bake muffins with her either.

That was the bitch of it. He found her attractive, and that was a dangerous thing. He couldn’t afford to develop a crush on a woman. He’d allowed that to happen once, in college, and it had ended badly. Really badly, for him anyway. For the woman, she’d won a two hundred dollar bet for sleeping with the disfigured guy. Since then, he had kept his relationships with women inside strictly drawn parameters. When he founded his company, Accendo, he discovered that there were quite a few women willing to go out with a wealthy man no matter what he looked like. It hadn’t been that difficult to find women who would sleep with him in exchange for cars, exotic trips, expensive baubles. Since the company’s sale though, Jared had been staying away from pretty much everyone, women included.

At the top of the trail was a broad, flat boulder warmed by the afternoon sun. Jared collapsed onto it and took a long swig from his water bottle. He turned his face up toward the sky, letting the heat sink into his skin. He closed his eyes and listened to the sound of the woods, birds in the trees, the breeze rustling through the leaves, the trickle of a nearby creek.

I don’t even know her name.

Fuck. Even out here, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. What was that guy doing to her right now? Jared pictured him undressing her, noticing the bandages on her knees, asking how she had injured herself, kissing the scars. Then he would push those lovely thighs apart and …

Jared tugged at his shorts. Damn it all to hell. He was as hard as the boulder he was sitting on. This was no good. There was absolutely no use in thinking about something he couldn’t have. If he was going to do this, he should have stayed back at the cottage and surfed porn for an hour or two.

He pulled his phone out of his shirt pocket, praying for bars. He had two. At least something had gone right today. He tapped Jake’s name in his contact list.

“Jared, what’s up?” his brother answered.

“Not much. Taking a few hours off. There are guests at the house this week. Thought I’d make myself scarce.”

Jake snorted. “How long are you going to do this shit? If you want to mow grass, get some grass of your own to mow.”

“Yeah. I’m thinking this might be the last caretaking gig I do.” By “I’m thinking” Jared meant the thought had literally just occurred to him. Two minutes ago, he’d been considering no such thing.

“You could always start another company,” Jake suggested. “You
are
good at that. Although … we’re looking for a nanny or an au pair. Mina wants to go back to work in the fall. You could come be our manny. Job’s yours if you want it.”

Jared heard muffled laughter on the other end.

“Don’t get an au pair.” Jared and Jake had been cared for by a succession of au pairs when they were young—comely girls with big smiles from Brazil, Bulgaria, Ireland, Denmark. Their father had slept with them all.

“Don’t worry,” Jake said quietly, following Jared’s train of thought. “Mina rules out all the pretty ones. Not that I’d ever …” His voice trailed away.

“I know you wouldn’t, man.”

Jake was a devoted family man, and why not? He had a beautiful wife and two adorable kids. Then again, so had their father.

“Why is Mina going back to work? You can give yourself a raise if you need the money,” Jared said.

“Naw, it’s not that. Although I appreciate the offer, bro. Aidan’s starting kindergarten in the fall and Emma will be in third grade. Mina wants to return to her career, that’s all. We just need someone to watch the kids after school.”

The conversation fell quiet for a moment, then Jared asked the question they always tried to avoid. “Any news?”

He waited for Jake to answer.

“No. He’s on his last appeal. The attorney said he didn’t know when the state would rule on it.”

“Well, he’s lost every other appeal.”

Jared felt bad, again, for saddling his brother with this. Jared paid for the attorney but it was Jake who stayed in touch with the attorney and physically wrote out the checks. Some days—most days, actually—Jared didn’t know why he bothered paying for it. A court-appointed attorney would have had the same outcome.
If you’re waiting for an apology, man, it ain’t gonna happen.
Jake had told him that a million times over the years.

Was that what he wanted? An apology? An apology for ruining their lives by taking away their mother and leaving them orphans for all intents and purposes? For leaving Jared with a twisted wreck of a face? For leaving both of them with the knowledge that their father hadn’t loved them? An apology for not leaving, for not walking away from them and their mother instead?

Why couldn’t he have simply abandoned them? That would have been infinitely better. Even for him. Walking away from one’s family was heinous, a crime of the heart surely, but not a crime in the eyes of the law.

Jared ran his hand through his hair as the sun fell behind a cloud. Yes, he did want an apology. He wanted to hear the man say, just once, that he was sorry. That if he had the chance to do it over again, he would do things differently.

“Are you going to go?” he asked his brother.

“Probably not. Mina thinks it’s a bad idea. And, as you like to tell me, she’s my smarter half.” He sighed audibly on the other end. “You aren’t thinking of going, are you?”

“Don’t know. Maybe.”

“It’s probably not a good idea, Jared. You could end up drawing a lot of attention to it. Maybe if you hadn’t dropped out of the public eye for so long, it wouldn’t matter. But you have.”

The conversation fell into a dead zone again. It always did. Jared was closer to his brother than anyone. Hell, his brother was the only person he was close to. But there were too many things Jared and Jake couldn’t bring themselves to say anymore, not even to each other.

I’m sorry to be making you manage my life, but not sorry enough to do it myself.

Are you going to hide for the rest of your life? Why’d you knock yourself out to build a business and sell it for a bloody fortune if you’re not going to enjoy it?

You have the life I always wanted. Nice house in the ‘burbs, beautiful wife, lovely children.

Thank you for going to get me, for saving my life. I don’t know how to make it up to you. Please tell me how to make it up to you.

I will never regret going to get you. How could I have lived with myself if I hadn’t saved my baby brother?

But you did it and you still can’t live with yourself.

“Hey, got a call on the other line,” Jake said. “Talk to you soon?”

“Yeah. Say hi to Mina and the kids for me.”

“They’d love a visit from their uncle, you know.”

“I’ll work on it. Bye Jake.”

He laid back on the rock and let the heat seep into his muscles. He was thirty-five years old. Fuck, life was long. He couldn’t see himself taking care of other people’s houses and property for the rest of his life. But he also couldn’t see what else he might do. He could take over running the foundation from Jake, but then he’d have to meet with people, be out in public. The public didn’t really want him out. People wanted his money but they’d rather get it from Jake. He didn’t blame people for this. Jake was easier on the eyes. People knew how to behave around Jake. They were never sure what to do around Jared. Look at him? Not look at him? Pretend they don’t even notice? Apologize?

Jake had suggested he start another company. But for what? To make more money? He already had more money than he needed and it multiplied faster than he could give it away. Plus he wasn’t a young buck anymore. It was easier to get away with the face when he was young. Everyone loved a young, smart entrepreneur. Fashion sense limited to hoodies and sneakers? Awkward social skills? Messed up face? If you were going to make people a lot of money, they would forgive you everything else.