Part 8 (1/2)

”What are you talking about? No one yelled at Bobby, and no one ever abused him. I don't have a 'latest fling' or a 'flavor of the week' as you so gallantly put it.”

”Zack.”

He couldn't be serious. ”What does Zack”

”You may be screwin' your old flame, but I will not allow that somb.i.t.c.h anywhere near my son. You got that?” Jake looked Tracy over from head to toe. She was dressed in jeans and a baggy t-s.h.i.+rt, nothing remotely s.e.xy, but his eyes flared with a l.u.s.t that disgusted her. Giving her a slow grin, he said, ”You know if it's just s.e.x you want, I'm always available.”

”d.a.m.n it, Jake, we're divorced. We can't stand each other.”

He moved close enough for her to kiss him if the thought didn't make her gag. ”Don't worry.” His voice was low and husky. ”I'm not talking about a walk down the aisle again. But the s.e.x was always good.”

Huffing, Tracy smiled as smugly as she could muster. ”Not always. Believe me, I've had better.” She enjoyed the irritated narrowing of his eyes way too much. ”I had blinders on. I believed your bulls.h.i.+t and fell for your charm. Not again, Jake. Now, let's talk about your constantly making me out to be the heavy where Bobby is concerned.”

”Ah, yes, I was never as good as dear old Zack Cartwright.” He spoke in a low hiss. ”I heard that either the Marines or his beauty queen wife neutered him. Glad to hear that was all vicious lies.”

”Goodbye, Jake.” She turned away and headed back to her car.

”Does Zack know you screwed me over for his brother?”

She jerked to a stop and spun around. ”I never slept with Logan and you know it. He helped me get away from you. Without him, I probably never would have. He helped me see your true colors and how you cheated me out of the life I really wanted. He's my friend, nothing more.”

”If I remember correctly, that's all you considered me when you f.u.c.ked me for the first time.” He moved toward her and smiled. ”I remember that first time, Tracy. I remember how you came on to me after the roundup at the McPherson place. You couldn't even wait until we got off the ranch. You told me to pull into the pasture, and we went at it on the bed of my truck.”

Tracy flinched and took a step back. ”You manipulated me into thinking the man I loved was cheating on me. You were supposed to be his best friend. In my stupid, naive way of thinking, I was getting back at him. Not to mention you had me believing you actually loved me. I just didn't realize, until much too late, I was no more than a p.a.w.n in some sick game.”

She glared at him and snarled as she fisted her hands. G.o.d, she wished she could punch that c.o.c.ky gleam out of his eyes. ”If there is a chance for Zack and me to find what we've lost, it is none of your d.a.m.ned business. But you will not use my son in your games.”

”I'll raise my son any d.a.m.ned way I see fit. But I will not allow Sheriff GI Joe to verbally bully him.”

Tracy pulled into her full height, putting herself a good two inches taller than him, which she knew infuriated him more than her words. ”Zack didn't yell at Bobby. He needs someone to show him some authority and that he can't get everything he wants just because he wants it. Bobby didn't like being reminded he's a kid and the world doesn't always turn at his will. G.o.d knows he would never learn that from you. In the end, Bobby had fun, and if you were to ask him, I'd bet he'd even say he enjoyed being part of his uncle's special day instead of going to see his favorite baseball team lose.”

Jake snorted and leaned back on his heels. His s.h.i.+rt tightened across his shoulders when he folded his arms over his chest. Clenching his fists, he sneered. ”Zack Cartwright is not the boss of my son, Tracy.”

As she reached for the handle of her car door, Jake's next words halted her. ”Do you know why I'm suing you for full custody?”

”Because you're a royal jacka.s.s?”

”Not any more than you're a two-bit wh.o.r.e.”

She spun on him.

”The company you keep has become increasingly bad news. The men you parade in and out of your bed have gone from bad to worse. Not to mention having your alcoholic, suicidal brother living with you in your small apartment. Exposing Bobby to his craziness.”

”Dylan was never suicidal and he isn't crazy.”

Jake shrugged. ”Post-traumatic stress disorder. Google it. One of the symptoms is suicidal thoughts. So is violence. I heard he put Brenda's new husband in a chokehold in the Longhorn back in March,” he said, referring to Dylan's ex-wife, her husband, and an incident that happened before he started working for Charli.

”You can't be serious. What was I supposed to do, Jake? He's my brother. Dylan was never suicidal or dangerous and you know it!”

Jake looked at his watch. ”My lawyer sees things differently.”

He turned away and headed toward the open garage bay.

Dear G.o.d, what was she going to do?

When the bell jingled above the door, Tracy glanced up from the reception desk and smiled at the woman standing inside the entry. ”Melissa?”

The pet.i.te woman tentatively returned Tracy's smile and pushed golden blond hair behind an ear. She held out a small hand and nodded. ”Hi. Yes, I'm Melissa Blackwell. You must be Tracy.”

Tracy stood to shake the small hand. She towered over the shorter woman by almost a foot. Heading around the desk, Tracy gestured toward the couch by the double window. ”Please sit. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea? Soda?”

Melissa s.h.i.+fted the strap of her bag from her shoulder. She was dressed in black slacks and a white clingy sweater, which did everything to emphasize her curves. ”Coffee would be fine.”

Tracy went to the commercial coffee maker on an old sideboard and poured them each a cup. After she settled on the wingchair next to the couch, she took a deep breath and clutched her cup between her hands. She'd never conducted an interview before and hadn't had time to prepare as well as she'd have liked.

Melissa appeared to be nearly as nervous as she was. She sipped her coffee as she looked around. ”This is a really nice place.”

”Thank you. I'm sorry to hear about your dad.”

”He's not doing well. Although he doesn't let on he's as bad off as he is.” She looked down into the cup between her hands. ”I wish I'd known how sick he was sooner. I would've been here before now.”

At a loss for what else to say, Tracy asked, ”So, how long have you been in Colton?”

Melissa shrugged. ”About a week.” A sheepish smile touched her full lips. ”I'll admit I'm not sure how long I'll be in town.” She lost a smile and took a quick sip of her coffee. ”It's a lot different than LA.”

Tracy laughed. ”I can't disagree with that. I've lived all over the world. But I wouldn't want to live anywhere but here.”

”Colton has its own kind of charm.” She glanced around again. ”Sometimes I wonder if it's because it's...”

”It's home.”

Melissa's eyes sparkled. ”Yes. I guess that's it. I mean, I'm living in the same house my great-great-grandfather built.”

”I understand perfectly.”

They shared a smile. She and Melissa would get along perfectly.

The rest of the interview went smoothly. Tracy was impressed with Melissa's education and her work history. After a quick tour around the salon, they returned to the reception area.

”How would you like to start tomorrow?” Tracy held out her hand.

Melissa's smile dazzled as she took Tracy's hand and squeezed. ”Sure! I'd love to. Thank you.”

”Then we have a deal. I'll see you tomorrow at ten.”

At the door, Melissa tilted her head to look up at Tracy, again reminding her of the difference in their height. ”Is Logan Cartwright still in town?”

Logan? ”Ah... He actually lives in Dallas, but hangs out at one of the smaller houses on the CW when he's in town, which is a lot.”