Free Coming Undone by Susan Andersen Page A

normally smooth facade, he pulled himself up short. Drawing in a calming breath, he ordered himself to picture the Rocky Mountains. He was a glacier peak, impregnable and remote. He did not lose control.
    Calmer, he felt a bite of satisfaction at how composed and patient he sounded when he said, “Look, is Esme around? That’s the reason I called.”
    “Aw, sweetie,” she said in a voice so understanding that for a moment it endangered his hard-won composure. “Hang on a second. I’ll see if I can find her.”
    The telephone went on hold, and Jared pictured his sister in her attic studio tracking Esme down via the intercom system wired into every room of her and Rocket’s big, rambling Denver home.
    Then the line opened up again and his niece’s voice said, “Hullo, Uncle Jared!”
    “Hey, pipsqueak. Or should I say college graduate pipsqueak? Congratulations, kid. I’m sorry I missed the ceremony, but a gift is in the mail.”
    “Lovely. But as it happens, you didn’t miss a thing.” Traces of her first six years in England colored her voice. “I didn’t graduate.”
    “What?” He took his eyes off the road for an instant to give the phone a blank look. “What happened?”
    “Turns out my high school French classes don’t count toward my foreign language obligation because I failed the competency test I took for college entry. Only no one bothered to tell me that until just now, which I think is complete and utter bollocks. Regardless, I’m stuck taking a French class summer quarter.”
    “Sorry to hear it, Es.” He waited a beat, then said, “Send me back my prez.”
    “You wanker!” She laughed. “Just try to get it back. You always give great gifts.”
    “So you’re taking one class this summer. That sounds cushy enough. What are you doing the rest of the time, lounging by a pool?”
    “I wish. I’m working part time at Daddy’s.”
    “He’s letting you muck around at Semper Fi?” He injected the proper horror into his voice. “A girl who couldn’t even graduate college? What are the chances of there being a business to come back to when I’m finished with this job?”
    “Pretty decent, considering Gert doesn’t let me do a damn thing without supervision. Shouldn’t she be retired by now? She must be eighty years old.”
    “Seventy-four. And retire to do what? Crochet doilies?”
    “You sound just like her.” Amusement laced her voice. “And I have to admit, the woman’s a machine. I’m running my arse off just trying to keep up with her.”
    “She keeps us all slapped into shape,” he agreed. “Well, listen, kid. I’m running into traffic and it looks like there’s some road construction ahead, so I’d better hang up and pay attention. Keep your nose to the grindstone and I’ll see you when we get to Denver.”
    “Mum got us tickets to Priscilla Jayne’s concert. She said I met her once, but I don’t remember. I’ve listened to her new CD, though, and it’s actually good.”
    He grinned. “I’ll be sure to pass on your effusive praise.”
    “That didn’t come out right. I guess I just thought all country music was twangy, but hers isn’t. I really like her voice and her songs tell great stories. I’m looking forward to hearing her in concert.”
    “She puts on a helluva show,” he said, thinking of her energy knocking them dead in honky-tonks across three states. “I’ll see if I can’t get you backstage passes.”
    “Sweet.”
    When they disconnected a minute later, Jared emptied his mind of everything but the need to concentrate on the sudden backup on a stretch of freeway that moments ago had been nearly empty.
    Once traffic opened up again, however, his mind went straight back to the subject it had been worrying since the wee hours of the morning. He was like some damn hamster on a wheel, he thought with disgust, running his ass off to get nowhere. He had to knock it off.
    One thing was certain, though. He was glad the tour was finally