‘Just the heart?’ His arousal was already obvious as he thought of her long, lean body lying on the bed, blonde hair splayed across her shoulders. All legs and a smoking hot body, Reese always eased away his troubles.
‘Yes.’
‘I’ll be over when I can,’ he groaned.
He hung up, splashed cold water across his face to calm himself down, and when he emerged from the bathroom he bypassed the festivities and went to the kitchen instead. He didn’t need to be sandwiched between Fern, who was getting more touchy-feely by the minute, and Derek, a pleasant man but the firm’s accountant and arguably one of the dullest men he’d ever met, for any longer than necessary. Jack sometimes wondered whether he should bring a date to these events to prevent him from being bored senseless. But that would invite questions about his life, assumptions that he was in a relationship when he felt much happier cruising along under his own steam.
Nicole smiled when he appeared in the kitchen. She knew his tolerance for these occasions. He plucked a leftover potato from the roasting pan and popped it into his mouth.
‘Didn’t you eat enough tonight?’
He shrugged. ‘I could never eat enough of your food.’
‘Jackson, flattery will get you nowhere.’
‘You’ll make me fat if you’re not careful.’
‘Nonsense, you never sit still for five minutes.’
Already he was looking forward to the walk tonight from his father’s townhouse over to Reese’s apartment. His cummerbund was feeling tighter by the second and they still had dessert to go yet. The high life definitely made the waistline pay if you weren’t careful.
‘How long has she been coming here?’ he asked, spotting the foil container perched at the side of the countertop as Nicole cut the Ginger Snap Pumpkin Pie into slices.
She ignored his question but didn’t miss the direction of his gaze. ‘It’s leftovers, Jackson.’
‘I know. For you?’
She hooked a chestnut curl that had escaped her updo behind her ear. ‘Does it really matter?’
‘Not to me, but it will to my father. Has the woman really gone?’
‘Oh yes.’ He heard the anger in her voice. ‘I don’t think she’ll ever come near here again. Your father made his feelings quite clear tonight.’
He stepped closer as she moved onto slicing the Cranberry and apple cake. ‘Can you understand why?’
‘Not really.’ She shrugged.
She was holding something back. ‘Come on, out with it. You have more to say, I can tell.’
She stopped slicing. ‘Do you know how many people there are, homeless on the streets of New York?’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Oh forget it! I thought you’d have a little common decency, Jackson, that’s all.’
‘What?’
She harrumphed, shook her head again. ‘You’ve led a charmed life.’
‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’
‘You’ve never wanted for anything.’
‘I think we both know that’s not true.’ His mom not dying was top of his list.
Her face softened, her voice evened out as she realised what she’d said. ‘What I meant to say is that you’ve never wanted for anything financially.’ She finished slicing the desserts and wiped the cake knife before setting it beside the pre-sliced pieces.
‘How long has the woman been coming to you for help?’
He got his answer this time. ‘I’ve seen her at the shelter regularly for a while now, at least a few weeks,’ she admitted.
‘Please say it’s only the blanket and the food you’ve been giving her tonight.’
