For a moment they sat in the car looking at each other and Hallie had an almost overwhelming urge to lean forward and kiss him. But then kissing Jamie was a familiar thing to her, as she did it every night.
She almost giggled at the thought of how shocked he’d be if she did kiss him. Smiling, she turned away and got out of the car.
Chapter Nine
“So where do you see yourself in, say, five years?” Jamie asked as he filled Hallie’s wineglass for the second time. He wasn’t drinking. His excuse was that he was the designated driver, but really he knew better than to mix alcohol with the medications he was taking.
Hallie smiled. “You sound like a therapist.” She lowered her voice. “How do you feel about inheriting a house and a jet-setting patient?”
Jamie winced. “I wish Dad hadn’t sent the plane,” he said. “The weight of it has leaked onto me. How are your scallops?”
“Great. Fabulous. Are you trying to get me drunk?”
“Yes,” he said with such a leer that she laughed. “What’s your fantasy of your future?”
“I’m afraid I’m not very creative. I tend to like ordinary.”
“What does that mean?”
She drank more of the wine. The beautiful restaurant, the beautiful man, and the wine were loosening her natural caution. Jamie was eating in silence and waiting for her reply. She’d never seen him in anything other than athletic clothes so his crisp shirt, the jacket that she was willing to bet was made for him, the creased trousers over the brace, made him look like something out of a dream.
She took a breath. “What most women want: a home, a husband and kids, a good job. See? I told you that I’m a very ordinary person.”
“It doesn’t sound ordinary to me. I thought women today wanted to climb the corporate ladder and become CEO of some billion-dollar company.”
“Maybe they do, but it’s never interested me. What about you? What do you want?”
He almost said, To regain myself, but he didn’t. “Pretty much the same thing.”
“Just in a mansion with marble hallways.”
Jamie frowned. “My family isn’t like that. We—” He stopped because he wanted the conversation back on her. “You now own two houses, so what are you going to do with them?”
Hallie groaned. “I don’t know. I haven’t had time to think about the future. I’d give the Boston house to my stepsister, but then she’d just sell it and—” She took a deep drink of her wine. She did not want to talk about Shelly! “Any suggestions?”
“Sell the Boston house and stay here on Nantucket.”
“And support myself how? Besides, the house in Boston is heavily mortgaged. When I got it, it was in bad shape and I needed money to repair it. If I sold it, I’d clear some but not a lot. So how long could I live on the small proceeds and pay taxes on the Nantucket house? And you saw the prices at Bartlett’s. This island is expensive.”
“It sounds like you’ve thought about it a great deal. Surely they have need of physical therapists on this island. Or you could work on clients in the gym.”
“It would take years to build up a private practice and what do I live on in the meantime? Why are you smiling?”
“I’m impressed by how practical you are,” he said, but he was thinking that she was free. “You said you want a husband. Anyone picked out?”
“No, no one,” Hallie said, but she looked away. This afternoon Braden’s mother had called her.
“He’s in a bad way,” Mrs. Westbrook said, happiness in her voice.
“Oh?” Hallie asked. “Has something happened?”
Mrs. Westbrook gleefully told of her son being dumped and his resulting misery. “I’m sending him to you, dear Hallie. I’m hoping…” She didn’t finish her sentence, but they both knew what she meant.
“A penny,” Jamie said and again he was frowning.
Hallie emptied her wineglass and he refilled it. “A small house,” she said. “That’s what I’d want. Not one of those things with a three-story foyer and eight bathrooms. And you?”
“A big farmhouse with a porch where I can sit and watch it rain.”