Hit the Spot Page 84

I stood inside the house watching through the slider as he lit cigarettes two and then three. I couldn’t take it. I turned and prowled toward the fridge.

He said he didn’t want to eat, but maybe if I didn’t present Jamie with a choice, he’d sit and talk to me. I could probably whip something up in thirty minutes, depending on what was on hand. That might be enough alone time for him anyway. I might not even have to initiate conversation.

Right. Decision made. Let’s see what he had.

I opened the fridge first, examining his leftovers and hoping for some sort of protein I could salvage. No such luck. But Jamie did have tomatoes, an onion, and a couple cloves of garlic. I could make a sauce.

Meat. I needed meat.

I supposed I could always thaw something out in the microwave if I had to. That might have to do right now, unless I made a run to the store. And I really didn’t want to leave him.

Closing the fridge, I straightened up and checked the freezer next. My mouth fell open as the air cooled my face. I felt my eyes widen. It was as if Rivera Frozen Foods had purchased Jamie’s freezer as an advertisement space.

It. Was. Filled.

“Oh, my God,” I whispered, taking in the sight.

Top to bottom, side to side, stuffed with bags of vegetables, fruits, rice blends, pasta dishes. Everything we made and one of each, it seemed. My little childhood face was everywhere … in his freezer, which was kind of weird, but still, God, so, so sweet. There was no other brand. Just my family’s. I couldn’t believe it.

I started breathing faster. My heart started jumping around and going crazy inside my chest. Jamie had gone to the aisle he never ventures to and purchased enough frozen food to feed himself for an entire year.

I’d never checked Jamie’s freezer before. I had no idea how long these had been in here, but I had a feeling…He went shopping after I flashed him. The day he found out about my family’s business. I just knew he had.

And he didn’t do it because he loved frozen vegetables or quick and ready meals. He did it because this meant something to me, it meant something to my family, and Jamie cared about anything and everything attached to his woman.

That was me. I was his woman. I was his woman even then. Right at the start of that damn bet.

And finally, finally, standing there and staring at that sight, at that gesture that might’ve been insignificant to everyone else in Dogwood Beach, in the state of North Carolina, hell, everywhere, just not to me. To me it was everything. And looking at it all, it clicked.

I knew what I could do to help.

My hand reached for my back pocket where I had my phone. I pulled it out.

Then I dialed up my father.

* * *

Ten minutes later, I stepped outside and found Jamie on one of the sun loungers, head tipped back with his hands interlocked behind it, eyes closed, knees bent, and feet resting on the wood on either side of the chair.

Despite his relaxed position and the fact that he was no longer smoking, I knew he was anything but relaxed. I was hoping to change that.

“Hey,” I said, claiming the lounger beside him and stretching out. The cushion was warm beneath my calves. I looked over at Jamie, sharing, “I just got off the phone with my dad.”

Hearing that, Jamie’s eyes slid open and his head turned. He pinned me with a look of concern, asking, “He good?”

I gave him a soft smile. God … All he had going on in his head, and he was thinking about my family. Ready to put everything else aside if something was wrong.

My man was amazing.

“He’s good,” I assured him. “Hating that he’s having to eat healthier, but he’s doing it. Mom’s making him mind. Dad said he’s already feeling a lot better.”

“That’s great, babe,” Jamie said gently. “He needs anything, he knows to call Travis. If he can’t get a hold of him, he knows to call me. I’ll get a hold of him.”

Jamie was wearing a look now that read he’d drive the three hours or so to Travis’s doorstep and personally deliver him to my father if he had to. And I knew he meant it.

A word greater than amazing. For sure.

I sighed and dropped the side of my head against the cushion. Jamie watched me do that, then he turned his head so it was tipped toward the sky again and closed his eyes.

It was time to give him my last truth.

“After I got my MBA from Duke, I applied for a position at Rivera Frozen Foods,” I began, and immediately Jamie’s eyes were flashing open and he was looking back over at me. Once I had him, I went on. “I wanted something in advertising,” I continued. “I had an internship where I focused on that and really liked it. I knew I could be good at it. So I checked online. There were two jobs posted. A low entry-level one and then one for senior management. I applied for the first, figuring I could work my way up. The head of marketing interviewed me—Walt. Sweet older man I’ve known since I was a kid. I didn’t even tell my dad I interviewed for it. He had no idea I’d even applied.”

“Why didn’t you tell him?” Jamie asked.

I laughed a little. “’Cause I wanted to do it on my own. But looking back, it wouldn’t have mattered either way.”

Jamie’s brow furrowed.

I turned my head and pressed it back against the cushion, staring up at the sky above the railing. “I was hired for the position in senior management, which was crazy, but given my degree and the experience I had interning, Walt was confident I was fit for the position. My dad agreed after he found out. He was really proud of me.”

“I bet. That’s fuckin’ awesome.”

“He was also pissed I didn’t come to him about a job, but I didn’t want that, you know?” I turned to look at Jamie again. “I didn’t want anybody thinking that I used my name to get where I was. That was important to me. I wanted to earn it.”

“Sounds like you did,” Jamie offered. “Hired you for a reason, babe.”

“Yeah, well, not everyone thought that.” I looked away again and drew my knees up, staring at the tops of them while I picked at my cuticle. “I was brand-new and fresh out of business school, and all of a sudden I was a boss. I had people under me. People who had to report to me and answer to me. Who were older than me. They hated it. These women who had bachelor’s degrees or who were working toward graduating, they looked at me as if I’d done terrible things to them. They hated me. And when women hate women, it’s bad, Jamie. It’s really bad.”

I glanced over at movement. Jamie was sitting up and throwing one leg over the cushion and planting his feet on the wood between our chairs. Then he leaned forward and dropped his elbows to his knees.

“How bad?” he asked. His voice was sharper. Jamie was getting tense. He was growing worried and I didn’t want that. He had enough on his mind.

“It wasn’t like I was getting beat up or anything,” I explained, hoping to quickly settle him. “They would just … talk.” I shrugged. “Say things behind my back. Sometimes not behind my back. They didn’t think I earned the position I had. They said I wasn’t qualified.”

“They were talkin’ shit,” he threw out.

I nodded.

Jamie leaned closer, adding, “They were cunts, babe.”

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