All or Nothing

He’d talked her into staying.

God, was she even ready to face him today with the memory of everything she’d said right there between them? The thought of him out there, a simple door away, had her so damn confused. She’d all but propositioned him, and he’d turned her down. She’d been so sure she would have to keep him at arm’s length she’d checked into the room on another floor. That seemed petty, and even egotistical, now.

He’d simply wanted the common courtesy of a face-to-face goodbye and he’d been willing to wait three years to get it. The least she could do was behave maturely now. She just had to get through the next forty-eight hours without making a fool of herself over this man again.

Throwing aside the covers, she stood and came face-to-face with her reflection in the mirror. A fright show stared back at her, showcased by the gold-leaf frame. With her tousled hair and dark circles under her eyes, she looked worse than after pulling back-to-back shifts in the E.R.

Pride demanded she shower and change before facing Conrad, who would undoubtedly look hot in whatever he wore. Even bed-head suited him quite well, damn him.

A bracing shower later, she tugged on her favorite black skinny jeans and a poet’s shirt belted at the waist, the best she could do with what little she had in her suitcase. But she’d expected to be traveling back to the States today, divorce papers in hand. At least she’d thought to change her flight and arrange for more time off before going to bed last night.

Nerves went wild in her chest as she opened the door. The sound of clanking silverware echoed down the hallway, the scent of coffee teasing her nose. He’d said they would spend two days finding peace with each other, but as she thought about facing him over breakfast, she felt anything but peaceful.

Still, she’d made a deal with him and she refused to let him see her shake in her shoes—or all but beg him for sex again.

Trailing her fingers down the chair railing in the hall, she made her way through the “man cave” living room and into the dining area. And oh, God, he’d swapped her elegant dining room set for the equivalent of an Irish pub table with a throne at the head. Really?

And where was the barbarian of the hour?

The table had been set for two, but he was nowhere to be seen. A rattle from the kitchen gave her only a second’s warning before a tea cart came rolling in, but not pushed by Conrad.

A strange woman she’d never met before pushed the cart containing a plate of pastries, a bowl of fruit and two steaming carafes. At the moment, food was the last thing on Jayne’s mind. Instead, at the top of the list was discovering the identity of this stranger. This beautiful redheaded stranger who looked very at ease in Conrad’s home, serving breakfast from a familiar tea cart that had somehow survived the “purge of Jayne” from the premises.

Jayne thrust out her hand. “Good morning. I’m Jayne Hughes, and you would be?”

Given the leggy redhead was wearing jeans and a silk blouse, she wasn’t from housekeeping.

“I’m Hillary Donavan. I’m married to Conrad’s friend.”

“Troy Donavan, the computer mogul who went to high school with Conrad.” The pieces fell into place and, good Lord, did she ever feel ridiculous. “I saw your engagement and wedding announcements in the tabloids. You’re even lovelier in person.”

Hillary crinkled her nose. “That’s a very polite way of saying I’m not photogenic. I hate the cameras, and I’m afraid they reciprocate.”

The photos hadn’t done her justice, but by no means could Hillary Donavan ever look anything but lovely—and happy. The newlywed glow radiated from her, leaving Jayne feeling weary and more than a little sad over her own lost dreams.

She forced a smile on her face. “I assume that breakfast is for us?”

“Why yes, it is,” Hillary answered, sweeping the glass cover from the pastries. “Cream cheese filled, which I understand is your favorite, along with chocolate mint tea for you and coffee for me.”

And big fat strawberries. All of her favorites.

She couldn’t help but dig to find out who’d thought to make that happen. “How lovely of the kitchen staff to remember my preferences.”

“Um, actually …” Hillary parked the cart between two chairs and waved for Jayne to sit. “I’m a former event planner so nosy habits die hard. I asked Conrad, and he was wonderfully specific.”

He remembered, all the way down to the flavor of hot tea, when he’d always preferred coffee, black, alongside mounds of food. As she stared at the radically different decor, she wondered how many other times he’d deferred to her wishes and she just hadn’t known.

Jayne touched the gold band around a plate from her wedding china. “I didn’t realize you and your husband live in Monte Carlo now.”

“Actually we flew over for a little unofficial high school reunion to see Malcolm’s charity concert tonight. Word is he’s sold out, set to take the Côte d’Azur by storm.”

They were all going in a group outing? She felt like a girl who thought she’d been asked to the movie only to find out the whole class was going along. How ironic when she’d so often wished they had more married friends.

“I have to confess to having a fan girl moment the first time I met Malcolm Douglas in person.” Hillary poured coffee from the silver carafe, the java scent steaming up all the stronger with reminders of breakfasts with Conrad. “I mean, wow, to have drinks and shoot the breeze with the latest incarnation of Harry Connick, Jr. or Michael Bublé? Pretty cool. Oh, and I’m supposed to tell you that evening gowns are being sent up this afternoon for you to choose from, since you probably packed light and it’s a black-tie charity event. But I’m rambling. Hope you don’t mind that I’m barging in on you.”

“I’m glad for the company. Not many of Conrad’s friends are married.” When Troy had come to visit, she’d wished for a gal pal to hang out with and now she finally had one … too late for it to matter. “And when we were together, none of his classmates had walked down the aisle yet.”

“They’re getting to that age now. Even Elliot Starc got engaged recently.” She shook her head laughing. “Another bad boy with a heart of gold. Did you ever get to meet him?”

“The one who was sent to the military high school after too many arrests for joy riding.” Although according to Conrad, the joy riding had been more like car theft, but Elliot had influential friends. “Now he races cars on the international circuit.”

“That’s the one. Nobody thought he would ever settle down.” Hillary’s farm fresh quality, her uncomplicated friendliness, was infectious. “But then who would have thought my husband, the Robin Hood Hacker, would become Mr. Domesticity?”

The Robin Hood Hacker had infiltrated the Department of Defense’s system, exposing corruption. After which, he’d ended up at North Carolina Military Prep reform school with Conrad. Malcolm Douglas had joined them later, having landed a plea bargain in response to drug charges.

Taking their histories into account, maybe she’d been wrong to think she could tame the bad boy. Was Hillary Donavan in for the same heartbreak down the road?

Shaking her head, Jayne cut into the pastry, cream cheese filling oozing out. “You’re not at all what I expected when I read Troy got married.”

“What did you expect?”

“Someone less … normal.” She’d always felt so alone in Conrad’s billionaire world. She hadn’t imagined finding a friend like the neighbors she’d grown up with. “I seem to be saying all the wrong things. I hope you didn’t take that the wrong way.”

“No offense taken, honestly. Troy is a bit eccentric, and I’m, well, not.” She twisted her diamond and emerald wedding ring, smiling contentedly. “We balance each other.”

Jayne had once thought the same thing about herself and Conrad. She was a romantic, and he was so brooding. Looking back now, she’d assumed because of his high school years he was some sort of tortured soul and her nurse’s spirit yearned to heal him.

Silverware clinked on the china as they ate and the silence stretched. She felt the weight of Hillary’s curious stare and unspoken question.

Jayne lifted her cup of tea. “You can go ahead and ask.”

“Sorry to be rude.” Hillary set aside her fork, a strawberry still speared on the end. “I’m just surprised to see you and Conrad together. I hope this means you’ve patched things up.”

“I’m afraid not. The divorce will be final soon.” How much, if anything, had he shared with his friends about the breakup? “We had some final paperwork to attend to. And while I’m here, I guess we’re both trying to prove we can be civil to each other. Which is crazy since our paths will never cross again.”

“You never know.”

“I do know. Once I leave here, my life and Conrad’s will go in two very different directions.” Jayne folded her napkin and placed it on the table, her appetite gone.

She couldn’t even bring herself to be mad at Hillary for being nice and happy. And Jayne hoped deep in her heart that Troy would be the bad boy who’d changed for the woman he’d married.

She’d been certain Conrad had changed, too, but he’d been so evasive about his travels, refusing to be honest with her when she’d confronted him again and again about his mysterious absences. He didn’t disappear often, but when he did, he didn’t leave a note or contact her. His excuses when he returned were thin at best. She’d wanted to believe he wasn’t like his father … or her father. She still wanted to believe that.

But she couldn’t be a fool. He kept insisting she should trust him. Well, damn it, he should have trusted her. The fact that he didn’t left her with only two conclusions.

He wasn’t the man she’d hoped, and he’d very likely never really loved her at all.

This little fantasy two-day make-nice-a-thon was just that. A fantasy. Thank God, he’d turned her away last night, because had she fallen into bed with him, she would have regretted it fiercely come morning time. Her body and her brain had never been simpatico around her husband.