Part 12 (2/2)
”What happened?”
”I wasn't enough for him. It's as simple as that.” She gazed out the window, her mind s.h.i.+fting to the past. ”Three years ago, we came up to San Pico for my cla.s.s reunion. I caught him, as you lawyers would say, in flagrante delicto in the backseat of our car with Lisa Doyle.”
Zach's jaw tightened. ”No wonder you freaked out when Carson mentioned her name.”
”I probably shouldn't have told you. But you can see why she isn't my favorite person. Not that it was entirely her fault.”
”Lisa's all for Lisa. She makes no secret about it.”
”But you apparently enjoyed her company.”
”I enjoyed the s.e.x. We used each other. That's about all there was to it.”
All there was to it? She couldn't imagine using a man for s.e.x, as Lisa apparently had. ”So why did you end it?”
”Because I was tired of feeling nothing. I taught myself that, to go through life feeling nothing, letting nothing in. For a while, Lisa was my perfect woman. We saw each other and anyone else we felt like. There were no strings attached. There was also nothing there when I woke up next to her in the morning.”
Elizabeth said nothing more. She liked that he was being so honest, or at least seemed to be. The old Zach would have rattled off some phony line then laughed when she ignored it.
They reached the town of Mason, the county seat of San Pico County. It was just another valley town only bigger, with a Target and a Wal-Mart, and a few more restaurants.
Zach pulled into the parking lot of a place called The Captain's Table. According to the sign, the restaurant specialized in seafood, which she had learned never to order in the valley because it was so hot and the fish came from too far away.
They went in and got settled in a nice private booth. For an instant his gaze touched her face and the gold in his dark eyes seemed to glitter. Zach looked away.
”I've never been here, have you?”
She shook her head. ”I don't come to Mason very often.” But it looked as if the restaurant had been there a while, the red leather booths a little worn, the carpet a little faded. Still, the red gla.s.s candles glowing in the middle of the table gave it a nice kind of old-fas.h.i.+oned intimacy.
They made easy conversation until the waitress finished taking their order, then Zach turned the discussion in the direction she was there for.
”All right, you came out with me tonight so we could talk about the Santiago house. But I have to warn you in advance, I'm not sure I can help.”
Hoping he could, she told him in detail about the eerie night she had spent in the house. ”It was really frightening, Zach. The strange noises, the cold, that G.o.d-awful heavy rose smell. It got so bad, I almost couldn't breathe. It happened to Maria, too. It scared us both, I can tell you. I can't imagine what could cause those kinds of things to happen.”
”To tell you the truth, neither can I. On the phone you mentioned getting someone out there to look at the place. I gather you think they might find some rational explanation?”
”Surely there is one. I don't believe in ghosts.”
”I don't, either. Except for ghosts from our past, of course. Those always seem to haunt us.”
She cast him a sideways glance. ”You aren't talking about that day at Marge's, are you?”
He smiled. ”Not really. But as long as it's taken to get you to go out with me, I could be.”
Her lips lightly curved. ”This isn't really a date. We're here to talk business.”
”Oh, that's right. For a minute there, I forgot.”
Elizabeth fought a smile then fiddled with the red cloth napkin in her lap. She looked up at him, found him watching her with those unusual golden brown eyes. ”Does your past haunt you, Zach?”
He gazed off toward the window, but the red velvet curtains were closed, blocking the last glow of twilight.
”I suppose in a way it does. I lived in the fanciest house in San Pico, but my life was h.e.l.l. I wasn't welcome there. No matter what my father demanded of my mother and brother, they hated me from the moment they found out I existed. My father couldn't change that. Carson and Constance did everything in their power to make my life miserable, and my father was rarely home to do anything about it.”
”No wonder you got into trouble.” She remembered it well, the trial in the summer after her senior year, the sentence Zachary Harcourt received for vehicular a.s.sault and negligent homicide. It had been the talk of the tiny town for weeks.
Zach's mouth edged up and a little s.h.i.+mmer of awareness went through her. G.o.d, he had the s.e.xiest mouth.
”I can't really blame what happened on my parents. It was pure stupidity on my part. I guess I wanted my father's attention. But the worse I behaved, the less I saw of him. We didn't get to be friends until I got out of prison. He was there for me then. As far as I'm concerned, none of the rest of it matters.”
”We all make mistakes, I suppose. We just do the best we can.”
”That's what I tell the kids at Teen Vision. We all make mistakes. The trick is to figure out what you're doing wrong and stop doing it. Turn your life in a different direction.”
Their food arrived, prime rib for Elizabeth, lobster for Zach, and they relaxed and enjoyed their meals. Well, relaxed wasn't exactly the word. She was too aware of him to actually relax. Instead, she found herself watching him, noticing things about him, the long, tapered fingers, the graceful way he moved, how easily he smiled. She couldn't remember ever being so conscious of a man.
And he was interesting, she discovered, well-read, and a good listener. She was attracted to him even more than she had feared.
Which meant he was trouble, plain and simple.
She didn't want to like Zach Harcourt. She knew too much about his past to trust him. After Brian, she didn't trust any man, not completely.
At least, not enough to let down her guard.
Still, by the end of the evening, she felt easier in his company, a little less tense but no less aware of him. They were on the road, heading back to her apartment by the time she got around to the subject they had left unfinished in the restaurant.
”So what do you think about the house? Will you give me your approval for someone to come in and inspect it?”
”I would if I could. But my brother controls the farm. He has since my father's accident. As the oldest son, Carson was named conservator of the estate in my father's will. He's in charge of the ranch and my father's medical care.”
”So Carson has complete control. You're an attorney. Why didn't you go to court, make him give you some kind of say?”
”Because I don't give a d.a.m.n about the farm and never have. Carson can shove the place as far as I'm concerned. I do worry about my father, though. My brother and I never seem to see eye to eye on Dad's health care.”
Elizabeth settled deeper into the car seat. Outside the window, rows and rows of cotton rolled by, the white, open bolls of fiber the only thing visible in the darkness.
”I'll tell you what I'll do,” Zach said. ”You call someone to come out and look at the house. If Carson finds out, you can tell him I said it was okay.” He grinned, a flash of white as bright as the cotton bolls out in the fields. ”Nothing I like better than p.i.s.sing him off, anyway.”
Elizabeth straightened in her seat, wondering if Carson were right and goading his brother was the reason Zach had been pursuing her. ”That's probably not a good idea.”
”Where Carson's concerned, nothing is ever a good idea, but, heyyou want to know what's going on in the house, don't you? Well, this is the way to find out.”
It wasn't exactly on the up-and-up, but then this was Zachary Harcourt talking. He might have changed in some ways but it was obvious he was still a little reckless. She found herself smiling. In a way, she was glad he hadn't changed completely.
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