“You really ought to keep this locked,” he told her.
From the kitchen doorway she blinked in her ex’s direction, remembering any number of mornings when he had started her day with advice. CJ was a born advisor, always certain he was right, and unfortunately, far too often right about that, as well.
“No duh.” She turned back to the counter and pushed the requisite buttons before she faced him again. “If I’d locked the door, you’d still be on the other side.”
“You always were cutest in the morning.”
She was wearing knit boxers and a tank top, and CJ had seen her in less, of course. Still, she wished she’d pulled on a robe. CJ was too smart to actually stare, but his eyes were definitely not riveted on her face. Something stirred inside her, and she felt herself flush.
“So you noticed I was cute when?” she asked. “Between phone calls to the office? Or maybe between telling me what I ought to wear and whose friendship I should cultivate?”
“You were a work in progress. I couldn’t resist.”
“I wasn’t progressing one bit. It took our divorce to jump-start that.” She leaned against the counter, arms folded protectively across her breasts. “So why are you up so early. I’m assuming not just to stare at my legs.”
“I was hoping for a cup of coffee.”
“I have regular and decaf.” She gestured to the coffeemaker. “I bet you can figure this out. Make your own while I change.”
She grabbed her cup and took it into the bathroom with her. Unfortunately, with the cup came an image of a morning early in their marriage when CJ had followed her into a much more luxurious bathroom, and they’d taken a shower that had tested even the state-of-the-art water heater in their Bel-Air home.
After one cool shower, a minimal amount of primping and a silent reminder that old intimacies were best forgotten, she came back into the kitchen wearing jeans and a blue Palmetto Grove Rec Center polo shirt with her name and Staff embroidered on the pocket. CJ had not only made himself coffee, he’d produced toast with butter and jam for both of them.
He held up her plate. “When do you leave?”
“In a little while. I usually run first, but apparently not today. You still haven’t said why you’re here.”
“To make sure you eat breakfast.”
“One minute you tell me I’ve gained weight, the next you’re fattening me up.” She took the toast and bit into it without sitting down. “I was married to you, remember? What I eat and when never concerned you one bit.”
“Food becomes important when you lose the freedom to choose what you’re eating and when.”
She wasn’t sure it was the words or the way he said them that momentarily pushed past her defenses. “I guess prison wasn’t much fun.”
“It was a year-long root canal. Without Novocaine.”
“Why did you let it get to that point? You’re a smart guy. You must have known the good guys were closing in. Why didn’t you just get out of town?”
“I was positive I was going to beat the whole thing. I underestimated how badly they wanted to take me down.”
She was starting to feel sympathy, a bad sign. She set her plate and half-eaten toast on the counter. “Is the chitchat over? I really need to get moving.”
“I’m actually here to give you a list of the problems I found.”
“Did you talk to any of my neighbors while you were sneaking around their houses?”
“You mean did I blacken your name with your friends? No, I was discreet. I waited until people were gone.”
She said a silent thank-you. She had announced CJ’s return to her incredulous friends, who had for the most part been startled into silence. She had taken that rare occurrence as a sign and fled, and avoided them since. She had little stomach for what they might say. She would have to introduce him sooner or later, but later sounded better.
CJ took a small pad from the inside pocket of his sport coat. “You’ve got issues with the cottages that are still standing—”
“Tell me about it. I was on a first name basis with Handy Hubby until they moved out of the area last month. Unfortunately for them, people are walking away from their houses, not fixing them up.”
CJ pulled several sheets of paper off the pad and handed them to her. “Well, that’s lucky for you. There’ll be a bunch of unemployed guys dying to do