“Don’t answer it,” Jack said.
She reached for a towel to dry her hands and strode toward the phone.
“Alice! Don’t answer it.”
Who was he to give her orders? He was on his way to Japan and out of her life. She picked up the phone, tapped the button, and held it to her ear. “Hey, Sebastian,” she said, staring straight at Jack.
“Hello, gorgeous. Can I take you out to dinner?”
The phone wasn’t on speaker, but given the furious look from Jack, he overheard.
“Sorry, I’ve already eaten.”
Jack grabbed the phone and hung up the call.
“You had no right to do that,” she sputtered.
“Yes, I did.”
She stormed over to the globe in the corner and whirled it to show Japan. “There!” she said, landing her finger on the country that was literally on the other side of the world. “You just saidyou can’t wait to go to Japan, so I don’t see any reason I can’t speak with a man whose friendship I value and who actually wants to be with me.”
“He’s a drug addict and always will be.”
“He’s an imperfect human being, and aren’t we all.”
Jack scoffed. “You’renot,” he taunted. “Look at this place. Jane Austen would feel right at home here with your lace doilies and homemade jam, all tied up with a neat little bow. Life isn’t a Jane Austen novel, and I’m not one of her buttoned-up heroes. I’m a flesh-and-blood man, Alice, not some fantasy figure in a cravat.”
Alice flinched. What was so wrong in striving to be perfect? Striving for a life above the crass behavior and loose morals of the day? Anger boiled over and she couldn’t contain it any longer.
“Oh shut up! I’m done listening to your insults. The door is over there—you can leave.”
Jack scooped up the signet ring and stormed from the room, slamming the door on his way out.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Jack arrived at the construction site before dawn. His flight to Japan was in five days and he couldn’t wait to get out of town. The golf course was ready to go, and sticking around to oversee the resurrection of the Roost was the only thing holding him back from leaving immediately and putting Alice behind him forever.
The security guard at the base of the road was already in place. Jack slowed his truck and rolled down the window. “If Sebastian Bell shows up, tell him he can’t get in.”
“Got it,” the guard said, and Jack felt a guilty thrill from giving the order. He owned the Roost and the land it sat on, which meant he got to set the rules. No Sebastian Bell. Heck, he couldban Alice if he wanted. After last night, he had zero desire to endure another round of her holier-than-thou pronouncements. He’d been nothing but honest with her, and now she was pecking him to death with a list of demands to fix himself.
He met with Zeke, the lead contractor, at the concrete foundation that would soon support the new addition to the Roost. The stub-out pipes stuck up from the concrete like sentinels, ready for the plumbing and electrical systems.
“Have we got all the electrical permits done?”
Zeke nodded. “The state guy came by yesterday and confirmed everything is in order.”
“Good,” Jack said. “I want to get everything squared away for the next stage of construction before I leave. With luck, I’ll be out of here on Friday. Do you see any problems with that?”
“Nope,” Zeke said. “So long as you answer your cell phone, I can keep you in the loop no matter where you are.”
It was exactly what he wanted to hear. He spent the next twenty minutes walking through the construction site, inspecting the stakes for the future terraced gardens, the meandering walkways, and the wooden balcony that would someday overlook Saint Helga’s Spring. At the Roost, the final stage of prying up the original floorboards was underway. The air was filled with the sounds of clattering hammers, squeaks of old wood, and pings from hand-forged nails being collected in a tin can. Those old nails couldn’t be reused, but Alice planned to put them on display in clear glass jars in the tavern.
Alice’s blue Prius slowly turned onto the parking lot. He turned away and sighed, wishing she hadn’t come. Everything about seeing Alice hurt, but he owed her too much to let last night fester any longer. He rubbed the back of his neck, jaw tight. He wasn’t good at this. Never had been. But he owed her something—maybe not an apology, but a clean ending. He squared his shoulders and walked to meet her.
“Hey, Jack,” she said in her eternally soft and kind voice when she got out of her car.
He nodded but didn’t look at her. “What’s up, Alice? Is there anything you need my help with? I’m working over at the golf course today, so I don’t have much time.” The words came out colder than he intended, but he didn’t take them back. Better to draw the line cleanly.
