An Irresistible Bachelor(21)
The very place he'd told her he was surprised she'd even have a work studio in.
Christ, he wished he could take that little zinger back.
"Come on, Arthur," he said, going to the door.
The dog looked over at Callie and then back at him with a discerning eye.
"Here, boy," Jack said, patting his thigh.
The dog lowered his butt to the floor and Jack measured the defection with a grin. "He likes you."
"I like him."
Callie looked down at the dog with nothing but warmth in her face. There was no not-so-subtle caution. No closure. Just a small, secret smile meant only for Arthur.
No wonder the beast had fallen in love with her, Jack thought. Man or dog would be enchanted with such a look.
"Good night, then," he said.
"Good night." She was still smiling at Arthur as he shut the door.
Standing in the hallway, he hung his head and looked down at his wing tips. He should not be interested in another woman's smile.
Hell, he shouldn't even be noticing another woman's smile.
He shook his head. At least he hadn't had any more of those dreams. Since Callie had agreed to come to Boston, his subconscious had stopped running the Playboy Channel.
But it was a damn shame his memory was so good.
The sound of the front door being shut brought his head up. It had to be his mother, home from the symphony. As he headed downstairs, his mouth was set in a grim line.
She was just taking off her coat when she saw him.
"Jackson, darling, how was your day? I saw the Carradines—”
"Why the hell did you put her in the staff quarters?"
His mother's eyes rounded in surprise. "You mean the conservationist? Darling, she's here to work, isn't she? She's not a guest."
"She's here at my invitation. She's staying in the Red Room."
Mercedes paused as she measured him and then resumed putting her coat away. "As you wish. It was never my intention to upset you."
"You didn't upset me, you insulted my guest and pissed me off."
Jack turned to go back upstairs, thinking it was better for them both that he get away from her. He really didn't appreciate her games and he was feeling particularly protective of Callie.
Probably because she'd handled his mother's affront with such grace.
"Jackson, don't be angry," Mercedes called up after him. "How was I to know? I mean, she doesn't exactly look like a guest of ours, does she?"
Jack paused and glanced over his shoulder. "She is a guest of mine. Staying in my house. So she's going to be treated properly."
His mother lost a bit of her bravado. "Jack, I had no idea she was so important."
He turned and kept going, not trusting himself to respond.
After his father died, it had seemed a little much to kick her out of the house she'd lived in for some forty years. At the time he'd also figured keeping her at Buona Fortuna would save him the cost of funding yet another household. With no money of her own, and no skills to offer in the workplace, she couldn't support herself and it wasn't as if she could sponge off her other son. Nate wasn't making the kind of income that could maintain the lifestyle she'd become accustomed to. Jack was her meal ticket and all three of them knew it.
He shook his head. She was a perfect example of where beauty and brains could take a person. Unlike Nathaniel Six, she hadn't come from wealth. For all her haughty airs, his mother had started her life in the fishing town of Gloucester, the fourth child out of six in a family of Portuguese fishermen. Her one goal was to get out into the big world so at fifteen, she'd changed her name from Myrna to Mercedes and vowed to find her destiny somewhere far away from her roots. When she was accepted to Smith College on a scholarship, she'd been ready to make her mark.
Or put her mark on an eligible man, as was the case.
Jack's father had fit the bill nicely, coming from much wealth and being of the Walker name and legacy. They'd met through friends when Nathaniel Six came over from Harvard one fine, spring weekend of his senior year. Her beauty caught his eye and her aggressive nature had ensured he didn't have the opportunity to stray. Three months later, she dropped out of college and they were married discreetly at the Episcopal church in Osterville on Cape Cod.
It had proven to be a good match, Jack supposed. His father hadn't been bothered in the slightest by her background. In fact, he'd been more than happy to have her on his arm while he taught her what she didn't know. And, like the outstanding student she was, Mercedes soaked up the lessons in better living and then exceeded all expectations. By her thirties, she'd firmly established herself in Boston's social set. In her forties and fifties, she joined the right nonprofit boards and became respected for her civic contributions. Now, in her early seventies, she was held in esteem by the WASP establishment, courted by climbers, and generally regarded as the arbiter of taste when it came to judging which holiday parties were worth going to.