Free The Aries Libra Connection (Opposites In Love Book 1) by Janet Lane-Walters Page B

Jenessa said. “Can anyone help me?”
    “Count me in,” Simone said.
    Drew grinned. “On Friday just before we leave, I’ll call my neighbor. He’s a reporter for the News.”
    Jenessa gathered her papers and slung her jacket over her shoulder. “See you guys.” She headed to the door.
    “Jen, wait.” Simone caught up with her at the curb. “What time should I come?”
    “Eleven. I have to buy supplies.”
    The black nurse smiled. “I’ll bring leftovers from the buffet for lunch. Why don’t you come with me now? We could pig out and dream up slogans.”
    “I’m meeting Eric.”
    “He’s a good man.”
    “I know.” She shook her head. “It’s not what you think. We’re friends.” She got into the car and drove away.
    Eric was a good man, but he was also administration. Tonight, she’d managed to delay the call for a strike vote, but if the Board continued to stonewall the nurses, the uneasy truce would end. In that situation, even a friendship of years could be destroyed. She and Eric were too new to survive.
    She parked on the street across from the restaurant. Inside, she ordered coffee and sat where she could see the street. What was she going to do about Eric? He made her feel as though she was hovering on the rim of an active volcano. His kisses held promises and forced her to confront her husband’s death and the guilt she’d tried to bury.
    Part of the problem was that she wasn’t sure her marriage would have lasted. The closeness she and Chuck had shared through their childhood and teen years had been consumed by his passion for his camera. If her rival had been another woman, she could have fought. Instead, photography had claimed more of his heart than she had.
    She pulled moments of the past into view. She drifted from childhood games to teenage courtship rituals, to the excitement of the first few months of marriage. Their love-making had been like athletic contests with both fighting for control.
    The restaurant door opened. The courthouse clock chimed the hour. Ten already. Where was Eric? Had the Board meeting turned into a battle? She grabbed the check, paid and stepped into the crisp autumn night.
    A short time later, she parked her car in the apartment lot and ran across the street to the hospital. The guard seated at the desk looked up. “Forget something?”
    “Is the Board still meeting?”
    “They finished around eight.”
    That meant no contract offer. A slow burn of anger flowed through her veins. Bishop had changed the agenda. Hardly a surprise.
    Where was Eric? Had he been afraid to tell her? That was hardly an excuse for standing her up. “Thanks.” She ran across the street and headed to Eric’s apartment. She rang the bell, waited and rang again. When there was no answer, she walked away.
    Sparks of anger collided with embers of disappointment. She rode the elevator to three. “Megan,” she called.
    A note from her roommate, propped against the phone, caught her eye. “Meet me at the Cove. Call Dru’s.”
    She tapped her fingers on the table. Call Dru? Why? She had left there less than an hour before. She rewound the answering machine tape. Eric hadn’t called. The Cove. She shrugged. Why not?
     
    * * *
     
    Eric stood in the storage room of The Pirate’s Cove and opened another box. “Bingo!” Eric’s exclamation echoed the one Sam had made outside the Board room. “Last Will and Testament of Grace Eastlake.” He placed the will in the carton containing the past five year’s minutes of the Board.
    As he dusted off his gray slacks, he wished the tapes had been available. How could he be sure the typist had included every statement made at a meeting? Especially if there’d been a heated discussion?
    He carried the box to Sam’s office and left it on the secretary’s desk. “Pick this up later. Eric.” He taped the note to the box. After a stop in the men’s room to wash his hands, he strode into the restaurant.
    The hum of conversations and