The Last Time We Kissed
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Anna James
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24
Chapter One
Jax Rawlins stood in the corner of the Manhattan gallery, studying the people milling about the space. It seemed more people were gazing out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the gorgeous skyline than viewing the images that hung on the wall.
That wasn’t good.
His cell buzzed. Jax extracted it from the pocket of his trousers and glanced at the caller ID. His mother. Again. He couldn’t deal with her right now. He had more important issues that needed his immediate attention—the sales, or lack thereof, of his photographs at this show. He declined the call.
As he lowered his hand to return the phone to his pocket, it buzzed again.
This time his dad’s number flashed across the screen. Dammit. It was bad enough that they were arguing—again—but why did they each insist he take their side in the dispute of the day? Why couldn’t they just leave him out of it?
Not that they’d ever been able to do that. They’d dragged him into their disagreements for as long as he could remember.
Jax ignored the call and shoved the phone in his pocket. Something he could do with a couple of hundred miles between his loft here in Manhattan and his parents’ home in New Suffolk, Massachusetts.
Cate Endsley, his agent, approached with a tight smile. “Would you just shut the damned thing off,” she growled in a hushed voice.
Hell, she must have noticed him fiddling with his cell.
“You need to focus on what’s important,” Cate continued. “The turnout tonight is...disappointing. Again.”
“Sorry.” Cate was right. Tonight’s crowd was definitely not what he’d hoped for. “Maybe people are just running late?” Oh, who was he kidding? Not Cate, if the look on her face was anything to go by. Jax’s shoulders slumped. They were two hours into this evening’s event, and he’d seen maybe fifty people, tops, come through the gallery. A far cry from the hundreds who usually attended one of his shows.
People loved to see the images he captured of the struggles of wild animals in their natural habitats. At least, they used to, but lately...all he had to do was look at this small gathering to see how the winds had changed.
His phone buzzed again. He reached in his pocket and grabbed the device.
“Leave it,” Cate demanded. “Your flavor of the week is just going to have to wait until after the show to talk to you.”
“You wound me.” Jax gave a soft chuckle and pressed a hand to his heart. “You know you’re my one and only.”
Cate rolled her eyes skyward. “You’re not my type.” She eyed him up and down. “You’re the wrong gender, for one thing. But even if you were someone I found attractive, I’d stay as far away from you as possible.” Cate let out something between a snort and a laugh. “Your reputation with the ladies precedes you.”
So he wasn’t ready to settle down yet. He was only thirty. Way too young to be tied down. Like Dad had been when he met Mom.
Jax wasn’t interested in until death do us part.
His phone buzzed yet again. Definitely not interested in forever. No way. No how. All anyone needed to do was look at his parents to see why. Married thirty-one years and miserable for each and every one of them. Lord only knew why they didn’t just divorce. It was as if they’d rather be miserable together than happy apart. Like that makes any sense.
Cate shook her head. “Seriously?”
He held his hands up in front of him. “You asked me to leave it and I will.”
His parents would just have to learn how to communicate with each other. He wouldn’t take sides in whatever war they were waging against each other today.
“Go mingle,” Cate demanded. “You need to drum up more interest in the photos on display.” She gestured to the number of prints still hanging on the wall.
He nodded and walked over to a thirtysomething couple standing a few feet away, in front of his portrait of a lone wolf.
“It’s the same thing over and over.” The woman gave a discreet gesture with her hand that encompassed several images hanging on the wall in front of them. “An animal, cold and alone. Struggling to survive.”
Yes. It’s what people expected from a Jax Rawlins photo.
“Agreed.” The man nodded his head. “It’s rather depressing, if you ask me.”
Jax’s jaw nearly hit the ground. No one had ever described his photos as depressing before. Edgy. Raw. Fascinating. Those were words he was used to hearing.
“Maybe it’s some kind of metaphor? You know, individuals struggling to survive in this crazy world we live in?” the woman suggested.
The man chuckled. “Maybe.”
The woman turned to Jax. “What do you think?” She didn’t seem to recognize him.
“Art is subjective.” Jax made sure to keep his tone conversational. People were entitled to their own opinions. “The same image speaks to people in different ways.”
“Still, I’d love to know what inspired the photographer to capture the wolf at this particular moment in time.” The man gestured to the picture in front of them.
Jax wasn’t thinking about society norms, that’s for sure.
“I see stark vulnerability in the wolf’s eyes,” the woman said. “She’d rather be part of the pack than alone.”
Jax smiled. “It’s what resonates with you.”
“Shall I have this put aside for you?” Cate appeared by his side.
“Not right now.” The woman offered a polite smile. “I want to see the rest of this collection.” She tugged on the man’s arm, and they moved on.
“They’ve already viewed the rest of your images,” Cate said under her breath.
Jax exhaled sharply. “I know.” He’d seen them milling about the room for some time now. What the hell was going on? A few short months ago, everything had been going great. He scrubbed his palms over his face.
“I think it’s time to face facts. This subject matter isn’t cutting it anymore. You need to move in a different direction.”
That was easier said than done. His head started to throb. He’d spent the last ten years honing this direction. It’s what worked—he peered around the room again at the dwindling crowd and the number of photos still hanging on the wall—at least, it had until recently. What had happened to change things?
“There’s something else you should know.” Cate sounded...worried.
“What’s that?” He tried to keep his tone light. Conversational. But inside, bile roiled around in his gut.
She exhaled a heavy sigh. “The show you have booked for this weekend is canceled.”
He jerked his attention to her, and his mouth fell open. “When did this happen?”
“This afternoon,” Cate admitted.
“Why?” he asked.
“The gallery said they needed to close for the week to make some minor repairs,” Cate said.
“That’s not so bad.” Why was she making such a big deal of it? Jax wasn’t thrilled with the delay, but he didn’t see a problem with it.
“The cancelation is not the bad part.”
Jax’s brow furrowed. “Then what is?”
“They declined to rebook.”
Jax shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense. I’ve done dozens of exhibits at the Arte Loft over the years. They always beg me to come back.”
Cate ran her fingers through her hair. “I don’t know what to say.”
The fact that she didn’t spoke volumes.
Jax rubbed at his temples. “It’s not like Arte Loft is the Breitenberg gallery.” He could almost understand the rejection if it were. Almost, because he still didn’t understand why Gunter Breitenberg wasn’t interested in his work. Jax had exhibited at some of the most prominent galleries around the globe.
“Forget Breitenberg,” Cate said.
He gawked at her. “Are you kidding? That’s been the ultimate goal all along.” Ever since he’d started his career. “It’s one of the most prestigious galleries in the world. An exhibition there would be a major coup for us. You said so yourself.”
“If an establishment who loves your work is no longer interested in showcasing your photos anymore, what hope do we have for a gallery that’s never been on board?” Her frustration came through loud and clear, and her blunt—as always—tone drove home her message with stunning clarity.
Jax’s stomach pitched and rolled.
“You need to find something that will captivate people again.”
Something...but what?
He wasn’t sure, but he needed to figure it out. Fast.
Jax walked into his loft shortly after midnight. He shrugged off the jacket he was wearing and draped it over one of the leather club chairs in his living room.
He walked into the kitchen, then opened the fridge and grabbed a beer off the shelf.
He needed one after tonight. The evening never improved and he was sure that Cate would get an earful from the gallery owner regarding the lack of sales.
He removed the twist-off top and walked back to the living room while he drank.
Jax dropped down on the sofa. He set the beer on a glass-and-chrome side table, and pulled out his phone to check his messages.
Scrolling, he saw a bunch of notifications filling the screen. Including more calls from his parents. Maybe he should deal with them later?
No, he might as well get this over with.
He opened the calls in visual voice mail. After such a crappy night, he wasn’t up for hearing their voices.
He read a message from Dad, who was complaining about an argument he’d had with Jax’s mother and how Dad was right and Mom was wrong.
He ignored it and scrolled to the next. Mom’s rebuttal on the argument.
Next.
Mom: You know, you really disappointed me, Jackie, when you didn’t show up at my last book club meeting. I was hurt and embarrassed.
Jax’s hands curled into tight fists. He’d told her he couldn’t make her meeting. He’d been in Madagascar on a photo shoot, for crying out loud.
Hurt and disappointed. How many of his elementary school performances and art shows had she missed over the years? He could count the number of times she did attend on one hand. And she hadn’t even had a good excuse for missing them. She’d been busy with golf and lunches with friends at the club. How pathetic was that?
Dad wasn’t any better when it came to attending school functions, but he’d had work as an excuse.
At least Pops had been there for him. His former neighbor wasn’t blood-related, but he was the closest thing to a grandparent that Jax had.
He adored the man. Would do anything for him.
Jax scrolled to the next message.
Jackie, I forgot to tell you, Mom began.
His hand fisted around his phone. He hated when she called him Jackie. Why did she continue when she knew how much it bothered him?
He sucked in some much-needed oxygen and read the rest of her message.
I’ve already told the group you’ll be at the next meeting, in two weeks. Don’t let me down again.
His jaw tightened. She’d committed him to attending a meeting that was two hours away, with no traffic, in the middle of the week without bothering to check with him. Did she really expect him to be at her beck and call.
Obviously, she did.
Stop it. Why are you letting this get to you? The behavior is nothing new.
Jax closed his eyes and focused on slow, deep breaths.
A few minutes later, he opened his eyes and rose from the sofa.
He had other priorities to deal with right now. He needed a plan to salvage his career before it completely tanked and he became yesterdays’ news.
Jax strode into his study. He powered up his computer and got to work.
A few hours later, a loud noise startled Jax awake. His eyes darted around the room, trying to focus. His study. And he was still sitting in the leather chair in front of his desk. Had he fallen asleep going through his unpublished pictures from his last shoot? Jax glanced at his computer. Yeah. That’s exactly what he’d done.
What time was it? He glanced at the Mission mantel clock he and Pops had made together when Jax was a kid. Seven in the morning. Jax scrubbed his hands over his face. Lord, he needed a coffee. Standing, he was about to head into the kitchen when his cell buzzed. That must have been what woke him in the first place.
Who the hell was calling him this early in the morning?
His brain snapped to the tirade of angry messages left by his parents last night. Grabbing the phone off the desk, Jax was about to decline the call, but stopped when his best friend’s number flashed across the screen.
He connected the call. “What’s wrong?” Something must be, for Shane Kavanaugh to call this early.
“Got a 911 call this morning. Duncan Cruz and I responded. It’s Alex Papadopoulos,” Shane said.
His heart hammered so hard Jax thought he might crack a rib. What had happened to his beloved Pops? What if... No. He couldn’t even imagine such an outcome.
“He fell down the stairs this morning.” Shane’s voice pulled him from his dark thoughts.
Jax exhaled a sharp breath. “How bad?”
“Hit his head pretty hard. Messed up his right leg some, but I don’t think it’s broken. We brought him to the hospital. Doctor’s examining him now. I thought you’d want to know.”
He dragged his free hand through his hair. “I do. Thanks. Any idea how long he’ll be there?”
“Not sure, but I’m guessing they’ll want to keep him overnight for observation. Like I said, he smacked his head pretty hard.”
Bile roiled in his gut. “Okay. I’ll head to New Suffolk as soon as I can.” He’d planned to spend the day reviewing more of his unpublished photos, but that would have to wait. “Thanks again for calling me.”
“You’re welcome. Talk soon. Bye.” Shane disconnected the call.
Jax headed for the shower. He needed to get on the road quickly—and get to Pops as fast as he could.
Jax arrived at New Suffolk General Hospital five hours later. He’d made great time, considering he’d hit rush hour traffic.
After a quick stop at the information desk, he took the elevator to the eighth floor and strode to Pops’s room. When he arrived, the door was partially closed, but he could hear voices inside.
“Please, Mr. Papadopoulos. You have to listen to reason,” a very frustrated female voice said.
“Hello?” Jax knocked on the door and pushed it open at the same time.
“Jax.” Pops gave him a warm smile. “What are you doing here?” To the young woman dressed in light blue hospital scrubs, he said, “This is my grandson. He’s single. Very handsome, too—right?” He winked.
Jax chuckled. At least he didn’t have to worry about Pops having a concussion. His brain was one hundred percent engaged to come up with that.
The woman flashed a charming smile at him. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Rena, your grandfather’s nurse.”
He shook her outstretched hand. “Jax Rawlins. It’s nice to meet you, too.” Turning his attention to Pops, he added, “Shane called me. He was one of the paramedics who answered your 911 call.”
“I thought I recognized him. You two are still friendly?”
Jax smiled. “Have been since kindergarten.” Like Pops, Shane’s friendship had been one of the constants in his life. Even if they couldn’t get together all the time, when they did, it was like old times. “I see you’re feeling better after your little spill this morning.”
“I’m right as rain,” Pops said. “I’m going home tomorrow.”
“That’s not a good idea, Mr. Papadopoulos,” Rena said. “You dislocated your right shoulder, and your right ankle is badly sprained. You need to stay off it for at least four weeks. Doctor’s orders.”
Pops pulled a face and waved off her concern. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”
Jax stepped closer to the bed. “You should do what the doctor says.”
Pops crossed his arms over his chest. “They want to send me to some rehab facility. It’s bad enough I have to stay here today. I just want to go home.”
“You need help, Mr. Papadopoulos,” Rena insisted. “You just told me you live alone. A rehabilitation facility is your best option. Your insurance should cover most of the cost.”
Pops glared at his nurse. “I’m going home. I can take care of myself.”
Rena looked at Jax as if to say, Please talk some sense into this man.
The trouble was, Pops was stubborn, and he wouldn’t do anything he didn’t want to. They needed an alternative. One that worked for Pops and provided the care the doctor had ordered. “What about home care?”
“Yes,” Alex blurted before Rena could reply. “I want to stay in my own house.”
Rena cocked her head to the side. “It’s an option, but it’s expensive, and insurance won’t cover the full cost.”
“Let’s not worry about that now.” He’d cover the extra cost, if Pops couldn’t. It was the least he could do after everything Pops had done for him. The man had opened his heart and his home to Jax. He’d been the family Jax had desperately wanted—desperately needed—when he was younger. “What else do we need to consider to make home care work?”
“He’ll need round the clock help for the duration of his recovery,” Rena said. “Are you prepared for that kind of commitment?”
Jax’s eyes widened. He hadn’t planned on staying more than a day or two at the most. He certainly couldn’t stay in New Suffolk for the next month. “I’d need to hire someone.” He turned his attention to Pops. “Would that be okay with you? They’d have to live with you temporarily.”
The older man nodded. “As long as I get to stay in my house.”
“Is the home set up for first-floor living?” Rena asked. “That includes a bathroom and a place to sleep. It would be difficult, if not impossible, for your grandfather to navigate stairs in his current condition.”
A mutinous expression crossed Pops’s face. “I can navigate the stairs just fine,” he insisted.
“First-floor living won’t be an issue,” Jax said to Rena. Turning to Pops, he added, “You can use the downstairs spare bedroom and main bath.” Before Pops could protest further, he said, “It’s only for a month. You’re going to have to make some compromises if you want to recuperate at home.”
Pops narrowed his gaze. “Fine. I’ll stay downstairs.”
Jax squeezed Pops’s hand. “Good.” He turned to Rena. “When can we set this up?”
“I’ll contact the patient advocate and have her come in and discuss some options with you later today.” Rena headed toward the door.
“Perfect.” With any luck, he’d have the care Pops needed in place in a day or two. Then Jax could return to Manhattan.
Mia Kavanaugh stood in the upstairs hall of her home and watched the plumber who squatted over the pipe where her toilet once stood. “I had the septic tank emptied last week, but we’re still having issues.”
Please don’t say I need a new septic system. Please don’t say I need a new septic system. No way did she have the fifteen thousand dollars required for a new install lying around. She’d just replaced the air-conditioning unit last month, and her savings account was in the red.
“Mommy, Mommy, I gotta go, and Aurora is in the bathroom downstairs.” Brooke, her seven-year-old daughter, raced up the stairs with a pained expression on her face. “When is the man going to be done?”
“Use my bathroom,” Mia pointed across the hall to her bedroom with the en suite.
“I get to use Mommy’s bathroom,” Brooke gloated to her younger sister, Kiera.
“That’s not fair,” Kiera protested. “You said we’re not allowed to use yours.”
“This is an emergency,” Brooke said.
Kiera started arguing and Brooke continued to gloat, which meant Brooke’s need wasn’t as dire as Mia had assumed.
“Stop it, girls,” Mia commanded.
Her daughters continued as if Mia hadn’t spoken.
She rubbed at her temples. Mia heard the muffled snicker of the plumber. She so didn’t need this right now. “Both of you.” She pointed to each of her daughters. “To your room. Stay there until I say you can come out.”
Kiera stuck her tongue out at Brooke and marched down the hall.
“But, Mommy,” Brooke protested. “I still gotta go.”
Mia flashed her don’t-mess-with-me glare at Brooke and pointed to her bedroom. “You have two minutes. Then go to your room.”
The plumber turned to her a moment later holding a small wet Sqishmallow. “Here’s your problem, ma’am.”
Mia wasn’t sure what she was more annoyed with: the fact that one of her girls had flushed a toy down the toilet, or the fact that the plumber had just called her ma’am. At thirty-one, she wasn’t old enough to be considered a ma’am. Her mother...yes, but not her. Right?
Mia pulled a face when the plumber tried to hand her the toy. “You can toss it in there.” She pointed to the trash. She wasn’t going to try to save it.
He pressed the lid open on the small silver canister and tossed the Sqishmallow in. The lid closed with a loud clang. “I’ll have this put back together for you in a few minutes. Just gotta grab a new wax ring for the toilet from my truck. Be back in a jiffy.”
She stepped aside to allow him room to exit.
Mia breathed out a sigh of relief. She wouldn’t need a new septic in the foreseeable future. Thank God for small mercies. The roof, however, was a different story. She’d need to replace it within the next four months—before winter hit—for sure.
It’s not like she didn’t know the house had problems—those issues had made it possible to buy her ex out when they split four months ago, instead of having to sell the place and uproot the girls—but she hadn’t expected to replace everything at once. She was going to need another job to earn the extra cash. Her salary as an elementary school teacher wasn’t going to cut it.
“Mommy. Daddy is on the phone.” Aurora, her oldest, handed Mia her cell.
“Thanks, sweetie.” Mia pressed the mute button. “Tell the plumber I’ll be right back.”
Aurora smiled. “Okay, Mom.”
Mia unmuted the call. “Hello, Kyle.” Stepping into her bedroom, she shut the door. “You’d better not be calling to cancel on me.” As he’d done three times in the last month. “The girls are looking forward to seeing you.”
“I’m not going to cancel,” Kyle said.
Relief flooded through her. She was sick and tired of explaining to their daughters why Daddy couldn’t come and see them when he was supposed to.
“As a matter of fact, I’m calling to see if I can pick them up a little early. I’m taking them to Chuck E. Cheese tonight for dinner, and I wanted to give them time to play at the arcade for a while before the place gets slammed.”
“Sure. No problem.” The truth was, she could use the respite. Being a single mom with three active kids was challenging, to say the least. Soccer practice, piano lessons, swim lessons. That was just Aurora’s schedule. Add in Brooke and Kiera and the Mom taxi ran from first thing in the morning until just before bed most days, transporting her daughters to their various activities.
“What time are you coming?” she asked.
“I’m leaving work now. I should be there in fifteen minutes.”
“Okay. I’ll have them ready.”
“Mia,” Kyle began.
“Yes?”
“One more thing.”
Her brow furrowed. What more could her ex possibly want? “What is it?”
“Would you like to join us tonight?” Kyle asked.
Mia’s jaw dropped. No. She couldn’t have heard him right. “Could you repeat that, please?”
Kyle chuckled. “I thought it would be nice if we took the girls out together. Like old times. It’ll be fun for them to have us both there.”
None of what he said made sense. He didn’t want to be with her anymore. It’s why he’d left. “I don’t think Oriana would appreciate me coming.”
“That won’t be a problem. We’re, ah...not together anymore.”
No surprise there. The shocker was that they’d stayed together after Oriana had declined Kyle’s marriage proposal a few months ago.
“So, did you want to join us?” Kyle asked again.
Her mind whirled. “Forgive me, but why are you asking? You must see that this has come as a huge surprise to me given everything you’ve said and done over the last couple of years.” He’d made it abundantly clear he wasn’t interested in working through their problems.
“It’s not that big a deal.” Kyle sounded frustrated. “I just thought we could show a united front to the girls, that’s all.”
Okay. That made sense, and it would be good for the girls if they could do as he suggested. If he was willing to make the effort, she would, too. “I can’t tonight. I already have plans.” Today was her last day of school for the year, and she planned to celebrate. It had been a long year. The New Suffolk public school would still hold classes, but the private school she taught at was D. O. N. E. Hallelujah. “Maybe next time.”
“You have other plans?”
Mia couldn’t miss the hint of disapproval in Kyle’s voice. She sucked in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “Yes. I’m going out with my sister and some other friends.” Not that she needed to explain.
“I would think your daughters’ welfare would be a priority for you.”
Was he kidding? Aurora, Brooke and Kiera were her top priority. How dare he challenge her on that. He’d ditched the girls three weeks in a row, for goodness’ sake. “I think we’re done here. The girls will be ready when you arrive. No need to get out of your car.” She didn’t want to see him. “I’ll send them out.”
“Wait. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you that way. I know how important the girls’ well-being is to you. And of course your sister and your friends are important, too.”
Damned straight. Mia didn’t know what she’d do without all of them. Their friendship and support had gotten her through her divorce. And Piper... Her baby sister meant the world to her.
“I should never have implied otherwise. Can you forgive me?” Kyle sounded genuinely sorry.
Mia lowered the phone and stared at it. Who are you and what have you done with my ex? She raised the phone to her ear again. “Fine.” She didn’t want to fight anymore. They’d done enough of that, especially over the last two years. “I’ll see you when you get here.” Mia didn’t wait for his response before ending the call.
Shoving her phone into the back pocket of her shorts, she stepped out into the hall.
“You’re all set.” The plumber handed her an invoice. “I take cash or credit.” He grinned.
Mia glanced at the paper in her hand. Her eyes bugged out at the figure she owed at the bottom of the page.
Crap. More debt, and not enough money to cover it. Her shoulders slumped.
She needed that second job. Fast.
