A Moment's Indiscretion Read online

  A Moment's Indiscretion

  Unlucky in love, advertising executive Jackie Knovac has had more than her share of

  unfaithful and unstable lovers. Unwilling to let down her guard, she vows never to let

  another woman get close enough to love her… or to hurt her. Though many have tried,

  no one could break through Jackie's emotional barriers – no one that is, until Valerie

  Dennison.

  From the moment beautiful young Valerie walks into her office, Jackie is torn between

  better judgment and the overwhelming attraction she feels. Despite her resolve – and

  the fact that she knows little about the woman’s mysterious past – Jackie's fears

  begin to vanish in the power of Valerie's sensuous charm. But if she dares to trust

  again, will Jackie be opening herself up to a world of hope and passion… or a

  nightmare of betrayal and shattered dreams?

  PART 1

  Jackie

  Chapter One

  Jackie set her briefcase down and fumbled with the keys. With the porch light not

  working, she couldn't really see anything. She stuffed the pile of mail under her arm and

  searched for the lock in the dark. Having to call this place home for another month

  irritated her all over again. She nudged the door with her shoulder and finally got it open,

  but not without sending the mail flying in all directions.

  "Wonderful," she mumbled.

  Once inside she took off her heels and draped her jacket over the back of the sofa. As she

  switched on a lamp near the recliner, Jackie remembered that the light on the ceiling fan

  didn't work either. Glancing up at the cathedral-like peak in the middle of the living room,

  she sighed heavily and then decided it would take a ladder attached to a fire truck to

  reach the bulb up there. So much needed fixing in this place that even the thought of

  having to do it was overwhelming.

  It had been a mistake not to rent out her father's house after his death five years earlier,

  but at the time Jackie hadn't wanted to deal with it. There were too many memories of him

  here as he suffered through the final stages of lung cancer. It had been easier to just lock

  the place up and forgot about it until taxes were due. And now that the house had been

  vacant for so long, the whole thing was falling down around her ears. There never seemed

  to be time for anything, and all she really wanted to do was get it fixed up enough to unload on someone else. At some point in the future she hoped to build another house, but she

  couldn't imagine a break in her schedule long enough to take care of the details.

  She noticed her answering machine blinking in the corner and listened to her messages.

  Jackie laughed when she heard her friend Carla's voice.

  "Before I leave for my Sex Without Partners support group meeting," Carla announced, "I thought I'd cal and see if you could pencil me in for dinner on Thursday. Sevenish would be

  good. Call me with a yes or no."

  The other messages were either work related or clever telephone solicitors hoping she

  wouldn't notice who they were. Jackie scribbled down what she needed from each message

  and then returned Carla's cal .

  "Sevenish on Thursday is good," she said when Carla answered. "Maybe Chinese this time."

  "What's for dinner tonight?"

  Jackie spied her briefcase on the sofa. "Work. The usual."

  "Could you spare me thirty minutes?" Carla asked. "I'll pick up a pizza. Next week's my birthday and you promised to throw me a big bash, remember? I'm sure you've got it

  planned already."

  "Jesus, that's right." She glanced around her sparsely furnished living room with a renewed sense of distaste. Maybe she could get a few more things out of storage.

  "A medium with everything, right?" Carla said. "I'll pick up some beer on the way."

  Jackie scanned the room full of women and realized that she probably knew fewer than

  three people in attendance. Beer cans and empty cups were everywhere, and the majority

  of the food had disappeared hours ago. Most of the women were younger, but they seemed

  to be well acquainted with Carla. Where the hell does she find them, Jackie wondered. By

  two o'clock in the morning, she reached her limit. She kissed Carla on the cheek, wished

  her a happy birthday, and left her in the kitchen with two women.

  "I'm going to bed," Jackie said sleepily on her way down the hall. "Either let yourselves out when you're finished or crash somewhere. And keep the noise down, okay?"

  "It's still early," Carla protested.

  "Tell me all about it tomorrow. I'm outta here."

  Jackie woke up to the sun poking through the broken slats in the blinds at what appeared

  to be much too early already. I wonder if the party’s over yet, was her first conscious

  thought. She woke up. She hadn't drunk anything the night before, but she felt as though

  she had. She stumbled over more empty beer cans and paper plates piled everywhere once

  she was downstairs. The kitchen was one big disaster as well.

  With the coffee started, she began roaming through the house and filling a trash bag. In

  the living room she noticed various articles of clothing making a trail to one of the

  downstairs bedrooms where the door was open about halfway. Jackie dragged the trash

  bag along behind her and peeked in, finding Carla asleep and wrapped in a naked embrace

  around some as-yet-unidentified woman. The linen from the bed was scrambled evidence of

  their passion; Jackie shook her head and closed the door. A full trash bag later, Carla

  wandered into the kitchen with a sheet draped around her and short, dishwater-blond hair

  sticking out in all directions.

  "Do I smell coffee?" Carla croaked. "Christ, I've got a headache."

  "Who's your friend?"

  "D.J.," Carla said. She took the cup Jackie handed to her. "Or is it Amy?" She blew on the coffee and then slurped at it loudly. "Amy or D.J. I don't remember which one got pissed and left." Carla glanced around the kitchen with half-opened eyes. "You cleaned already."

  They both looked up as Carla’s bedmate appeared in the doorway, now fully dressed in

  yesterday's clothes—tight gray jeans, a black tank top, and black leather boots. Her short,

  dark hair was neatly combed, and her teenage-boy's body looked very comfortable in her

  clothes. She was tall and had two endearing dimples that softened her face. Jackie decided

  that early twenties would be a generous estimate of her age.

  "Good morning," the kid said as she leaned against the doorjamb. "You got a wrench or something?" she asked Jackie. "There's a bad leak in the bathroom sink."

  Jackie eyed her for a moment to see if she was serious. "This whole house leaks."

  "Water's a valuable resource," the kid said. "It shouldn't be wasted that way. Leaky faucets are a pet peeve of mine. If you've got the tools, I'll see what I can do."

  "In the back," Jackie said, tossing a thumb over her shoulder. "There's an old workshop out there. Could be anything in it."

  Jackie and Carla watched her leave through the back door. Carla leaned over and whispered

  urgently, "Which one is she? D.J. or Amy?"

  "You're asking me? She's your friend."

  "Shit. What good are you?" Carla hurried to the kitchen sink, still clutching the sheet around her nude body, and peered on tiptoe through the window. "She came with some

  friends of mine. I'd never met her before last night, but she's great in bed whoever she

  is."

  Jackie chuckled and shook her head. "How can you sleep with someone and not even know

  her name?"

  "I do know her name. It's either D.J. or Amy. Shhh! Here she comes!" Carla scurried back to the table and sat down.

  "She looks like a D.J.," Jackie whispered as she pushed a lock of auburn hair away from her face. "Amy's one of those fluffy names. This one's out looking for a wrench, for crissakes."

  "Shhh!"

  The door opened, and the young woman came in carrying a large toolbox. "I found

  everything I'll need," she said. "I turned the water off outside. It shouldn't take long to fix."

  "You want some coffee?" Jackie asked. This is free labor, she thought. Be nice to it.

  "What's your name by the way?" From her peripheral vision, Jackie could see Carla's sigh of relief.

  "D.J. Roberts." She held the toolbox easily at her side, causing a nice bulge on her upper arm. Jackie knew for a fact that the toolbox was heavy because she'd attempted to move

  it off the dryer once. When the dryer was working, she reminded herself.

  "Your back door sticks," D.J. said, "and the glass is broken out of a window in the workshop."

  Jackie looked at her and mentally added sticky back door and broken window in workshop

  to the long list of repairs to be made. "My toilets run constantly, every faucet, tub, and showerhead has a steady stream, and two-thirds of the lights in this place don't work,"

  Jackie said. "And those are just the things I know about."

  D.J. laughed and then nodded. "Let me s
ee what I can do with the leaks first, then we'l

  talk, okay?"

  Jackie and Carla watched her amble down the hallway in the direction of the downstairs

  bathroom. They fixed another pot of coffee and shared some cinnamon toast. Jackie

  pointed at the sheet still securely wrapped around Carla's nude body and asked, "Were you planning on getting dressed today?"

  "Eventually. Where's the aspirin?"

  An hour later the water was back on and Jackie was given a tour of her new leak-free

  fixtures. She was impressed beyond words and beamed her appreciation. They returned to

  the kitchen where D.J. pulled out a chair and sat down at the table across from Carla, who

  was now also dressed in yesterday’s clothes.

  "Great party last night," D.J. said. "One I'll never forget."

  Jackie noticed that Carla blushed appropriately.

  "There's a lot of work that needs to be done around here," D.J. continued, "and I enjoy doing this type of thing. It just so happens that I'm having roommate problems right now

  and need a place to stay for a while." She tapped clean, squared nails rhythmically on the table and leaned back in her chair. "I noticed that the little workshop out back has a bed and a tiny bathroom. There's also a refrigerator in it. I'd like to suggest a deal for you."

  "I'm not sure any of that stuff works," Jackie said. "It's probably been ten years since anyone's lived out there."

  "Then let me fix that up, too," D.J. said, now leaning forward in the chair. "You need repairs, and I need a place to stay. It's as simple as that. We can give it a week and see

  what you think."

  "Do you have a job?" Jackie asked bluntly. "A regular source of income?"

  "A friend has a landscaping business. When she has work, I have work."

  Jackie didn't have to think about it too long. A week's worth of free labor sounded like a

  damn good deal to her.

  Jackie pulled into the driveway late Wednesday evening and noticed that the porch light

  was on. My little handy person's been earning her keep, she thought with a smile. She

  collected her mail and unlocked the door without having to jiggle the key. The first thing

  that popped in her head once she set her briefcase down was that the living room light

  perched on the ceiling fan thirty feet in the air was working. Jackie kicked off her shoes

  and flipped the switch, instantly bathing the room in light. She sat down on the sofa and

  marveled at the difference it made in the room. D.J. Roberts had come through above and

  beyond already, and her week wasn't even up yet.

  In the kitchen Jackie found a list of repairs that had been done that day. Receipts from

  the hardware store for parts were propped up next to the coffeepot. She totaled the

  receipts and wrote out a check, knowing that D.J. would pick it up in the morning. They

  seldom saw each other, but notes and daily transactions were successfully carried out this

  way. Jackie's eyes had already been trained to go directly to the coffeepot for some sort

  of correspondence every time she entered the kitchen.

  The doorbell rang, and Jackie chuckled at the nice sound it made. She couldn't remember

  it ever working before.

  Assuming that it was Carla at the door, Jackie answered it without preamble, ready to sing

  D.J.'s praises. But instead of Carla, it was Phyllis, Jackie's psychotic ex-lover, standing on the porch. Seeing her again sent a rush of panic coursing through Jackie's body. A string

  of police reports and a restraining order against her apparently weren't much of a

  deterrent any longer.

  "I need a place to stay tonight and some money," Phyllis said as she nudged her way through the door. Jackie stood there stupidly holding it open for her, but once she got her

  wits together, she went directly to the telephone to call the police.

  "What the hel are you doing?" Phyllis snapped as she yanked the phone away from her and hung it up again.

  "Get out."

  "I need a place to stay," Phyllis said. She moved closer and slowly backed Jackie into a wall.

  "Are you gonna help me or not?"

  "How did you find me?"

  There was that sick little smile—the smile that always made Jackie's blood run cold.

  Instant fear gripped her whole being.

  "I followed you from work, sweetheart." Phyllis placed her hand on the wall beside Jackie's head and leaned into her. Their faces were only inches apart, and Jackie could smell the

  whiskey on her breath. "Did you actually think I couldn't find you if I wanted to?"

  Jackie felt nauseous as panic surfaced. She heard a noise in the kitchen and wondered if

  Phyllis had brought someone with her.

  "Is there a problem here?" Jackie heard D.J. say from the hallway near the kitchen.

  Jackie took a deep breath and tried to keep from shaking. "She's just leaving," she whispered.

  "You finally fuckin' somebody new?" Phyllis queried with that wicked smile as she dropped her hand from the wall. "She doesn't look like your type, Jackie old girl."

  "Get out," Jackie said.

  Phyllis didn't move until D.J.'s menacing voice uttered, "The lady said get out."

  Phyllis slowly backed away, never taking her wild, green eyes off of her, and to Jackie's

  relief and surprise, Phyllis left quietly. After a moment D.J. asked if Jackie was okay.

  "Yeah." Now that Phyllis was gone, she started to tremble uncontrollably.

  "You sure?"

  "I'm fine," she said, a little more gruffly than she'd intended. "Thanks. Really. I'm okay."

  She fumbled with the lock and then leaned her head against the front door. She followed

  you from work, you dumb shit!

  "Who was that?"

  Jackie turned around and rubbed her arms to keep from shaking even more. "A one-night

  stand that wouldn't go home. It's a long, stupid story." She went to the sofa and collapsed, propping her feet on the coffee table. "Thanks for showing up when you did. She's crazy as hell."

  "You're afraid of her. Why'd you let her in?"

  "I thought it was Carla."

  "You're too trusting," D.J. said gently. "You should be more careful."

  "Thanks for the hindsight. Now please leave me alone so I can get hysterical in private."

  She heard the back door close as D.J. left, and Jackie leaned her head against the sofa.

  Later in bed that night, she jumped at every creak and pop that the old house teased her

  with. It was a long time before she fell asleep.

  The next day, for the first time in two months, Jackie arrived home early from work. It

  was strange seeing the house in the daylight—she usually left every morning in the dark

  and didn't get home until very late. She found D.J. staining the outside of the privacy

  fence near the driveway. She had a Walkman clipped to her belt and earphones in place.

  They nodded to each other.

  Carla called a bit later to see if Jackie wanted to go out for dinner, but even though Jackie had got home early, she still brought tons of work from the office.

  "I've got too much to do," Jackie said. "Pick something up and come on over. I can spare you thirty minutes, I guess."

  Carla unpacked cartons of potato salad and coleslaw before going to the sink to look out

  the kitchen window.

  "She left already," Jackie said.

  "Who?"

  Jackie chuckled. "Who, my butt. D.J. Who else?"

  "Do you think she's too young for me?"

  "Not at all. As long as it's something you both want." Halfway through dinner Jackie asked how old D.J. was.

  "Twenty-four," Carla said with a crinkled nose. "I checked her driver's license the other night."

  "You've got fifteen years on her," Jackie said. "That sounds like a lot, huh?"

  "You think so?"

  Jackie laughed again. "I'm kidding."

  "You and I are about the same age," Carla said. "You think she's too young for you?"

  "They're all too young for me, no matter how old they are."

  Jackie heard a car pull up in the driveway and watched Carla hurry to the kitchen window

  again. "Is she alone?" Jackie asked.

  Carla turned around with wide eyes. "Has she been taking other women back there?"

  Jackie looked at her with raised eyebrows. "I'm kidding again. Jesus, Carla. Lighten up!"