Part 9 (1/2)

”And you...” She was glaring at him now so Jack set down his empty tumbler on the counter.

”Ella-”

”It's Miss Ella to you Jack Simon. I've got at least forty years on you, and that demands a certain amount of respect. It also means that I've got some advice to hand out, and you're going to listen.”

Jack shrugged. ”Go ahead, Miss Ella. I'm all ears.” He knew she wouldn't stop until she said her piece, she'd been like that from the day he moved in.

”I know you think I'm just some strange old lady with no family or friends, and well, you'd be right about that. I'm coming up on eighty years, and I'm alone. My son hasn't talked to me in nearly twenty-five years. I have a great grandchild, a little boy who I've never met.”

Miss Ella stared down at the half eaten apple in her hands, and Jack noticed that they were trembling. He watched her closely, unsure of what the h.e.l.l was happening. First off he had no idea she had a son, and secondly, he'd never seen this side of her. She'd been a pain in his b.u.t.t for years now, but they'd never had a conversation like this.

”I wasn't always this way,” she said slowly. She glanced up at him, her faded blue eyes gla.s.sy. ”Everyone has a story, James. Mine's pretty much done but you have so much time.” Her voice trailed off leaving only silence.

”Miss Ella,” he said gently.

But again she ignored him.

”Do you love that there Donovan James?”

Like a wash of cold water, any empathy he felt fled as soon as he heard her name.

”No.”

”I don't believe you.”

Jack was done. ”This is going to sound harsh Miss Ella, but I don't particularly care whether you believe me or not.”

”I guess that's your prerogative,” she said walking over to sink and tossing her apple core into the trash. She mumbled something under her breath, grabbed the rose from her hair and tossed it into the garbage as well.

”Everyone has a story,” she said once more. ”Sometimes we need to listen for the words. We need to hear them even if they're unspoken.” She was quiet for a few moments and then squared her shoulders, before pointing at Coco. ”I'd appreciate it if you'd keep your dog out of my gardens.”

She slipped past him, and a few moments later he heard the back door squeak shut.

What. The. h.e.l.l. She really was the weirdest old lady he'd ever known.

Jack frowned and reached for the scotch. He planned on finis.h.i.+ng the entire bottle, because it was that d.a.m.ned good. It would help him sleep. His PA had him booked on an early flight to New York where Donovan was scheduled to perform on one of the late night shows.

She had no idea he was coming after her. And no it wasn't about love. It was about retribution. Payback. Balance. There was no love involved. That was long gone. Dead and buried. l.u.s.t did not equate love.

He took another sip of scotch and stared into the amber liquid, swirling it around slowly.

That was his story. He had no idea how it was going to end, but he was guessing he was going to find out.

Chapter Twelve.

”And now, let's talk about your personal life.”

Donovan kept her fake smile in place as she gazed up at the man behind the desk. Not hard to do-she'd been practicing it for years now. She was in a studio taping a segment for Later Tonight with Hugh Dexler, and the ten minute segment was the longest one she'd done in ages. The guy was funny as h.e.l.l, but he wasn't following the d.a.m.n script. She'd made it more than clear that she wasn't talking about her personal life. This appearance was all about promoting an independent film she'd written music for.

Note to self. Never agree to appear on Hugh's show again.

Maverick Simon was off stage, and he smiled, giving her the thumbs up because he knew that if she could jump over the desk and strangle Hugh Dexler, she would.

d.a.m.n Simons. She couldn't cut them out of her life if she wanted to. This project was Maverick's baby, one he was working on with his cousin Beau, and she hadn't been able to refuse him when he'd asked her to write some music for it. In fact, the songs she'd written for this particular project had pretty much gotten her through the last twelve months.

In a year that had been chaotic at best, this one thing had been her salvation. The fact that the ride was over was unsettling.

And Donovan hated that feeling. She liked to know what was coming around the bend, which was why the whole thing with Jack was so screwed up. He was a roadblock she couldn't tangle with.

s.h.i.+t. Focus.

The crowd was laughing so she a.s.sumed her response to whatever idiotic question Hugh had just posed was spot on. Gathering her wits about her, she kept that stupid fake smile in place and listened.

”Can we talk about the late night visit in Miami with none other than the hottest politician on the planet?” Hugh pushed his gla.s.ses back a bit and smiled down at her.

Sweet Jesus. Mary. And Joseph.

She needed the strength of the trifecta, because she was going to reach over and do some harm to the overly tanned and overly botoxed face that stared back at her in glee. Why hadn't she ever noticed that? She didn't trust the botox. Sure a little bit here and there was fine, but when your entire face didn't move, well, that was a problem. It meant that you were hiding something or running from something and in Donovan's books, that meant you couldn't be trusted.

Donovan kept her game face on. ”We could.”

Hugh leaned closer. G.o.d, his teeth were too white.

”But then I'd have to kill you.”

The audience laughed and Hugh shook his head, grinning into the camera. ”There you have it my friends. If I don't wake up tomorrow, you all know that Donovan James had something to do with it.” He winked. ”And that would mean that I finally managed to get the scoop on Jack Simon. Of course I wouldn't be able to share it with all of you, but I'd die a happy man because that man right there, is the s.e.xiest man alive. I really don't care what People Magazine says. Um, Brad Pitt who?”

Again more audience laughter, and it took all she had to make it through that segment to the musical guest spot.

Donovan got through her live performance with Rick, otherwise known as Maverick, and less than forty-five minutes later, she was in a limo with him.

”Sorry about that,” Maverick said. ”He's had a thing for Jack for years. He should just come out of the closet already.”

”Hugh Dexler is gay?” she asked, her face deadpan, her sarcasm deep.

Maverick chuckled. He was her best friend and knew everything about her sad, pathetic life. But even he didn't know all the details about what had happened with Derek. That was her shame. She hadn't seen Rick since before the fundraiser and until now hadn't realized how much she missed him. She leaned back in her seat and sighed.

”So, Grace pulled a fast one.”

He was staring out the window and turned when she spoke. ”What was that?”

”Grace. She broke up with Liam.”

”Not surprised.”

”Really?” She arched an eyebrow.