Page 64 of Just for Tonight

“Oh.”

“I was in full agreement with you, Mackenzie, until I walked up the drive and saw my car.”

“And then you were mad.”

“I shouldn’t have responded in anger. I know that.”

“But it was your car.” I know, just as anyone who has ever seen Jake with that car, that it is his pride and joy. Someone found the perfect target for their retaliation, and maybe it’s not entirely unjustified that they got a reaction.

“And besides all of that, I wanted to hear your voice,” Jake says.

“Why?”

He takes a breath then speaks quickly, as if he’s embarrassed about his confession. “I could not bear that you were alive in the world and thinking ill of me,” he says, perfectly quoting Pride & Prejudice.

I smile. I can’t help it. I’m glad to hear his voice, too, but I’m not going to tell him that. I stretch out on the couch, thinking about his opening question. “Well, often kindness starts by understanding the other person.”

“That is never going to happen.”

“You’re talking about Candace.”

“Yes.”

“I thought you didn’t care about being kind to her.”

“So did I. Then I did what had to be done, and now I feel like a complete asshole. Thanks for making sure I knew my impressions were on point.”

“But you are an asshole, by your own admission. It’s a point of pride, I think. Why does this incident bother you?”

“I don’t know. It does.” He doesn’t want to talk about that. “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life or even my weekend feeling like this, so I’m asking for advice.” His voice drops lower. “Please, Mackenzie.”

For the record, I think there are few things more appealing than someone admitting that they are or were wrong. Asking for help is even more attractive. And when both come from a man who probably never does either, I’m a goner.

Even better, I probably know something Jake doesn’t.

“Actually, I think you do have something in common with Candace, or you did, once upon a time.”

“I suspect not.”

“You haven’t always had a credit rating.”

There is a beat of silence and I know Jake is connecting the dots. “They were his credit cards,” he says softly. “And she was the secondary person on the account. His credit rating, not hers. Fuck. That changes everything.”

“Yes. Now she can’t access his credit and she doesn’t have a credit rating of her own. She doesn’t have a job. She’s not sitting on a fortune.”

Jake makes the conclusion before I do. “They might not even approve her for a card with a five-hundred-dollar limit.”

“They might not.” I take a breath. “The same thing happened to my mom, and she was a bookkeeper. She never thought about it before my dad died. They held everything jointly, and when my dad died, my mom had to start over again.”

Jake swears softly but I’m not done with him.

“And think about it. Unlike my mom, Candace probably has no experience with paying the bills. She likely never even saw them. She didn’t juggle money around between accounts, or probably even know how much her lifestyle cost. She could tell you the retail price on a certain purse from a certain designer or label, but I’ll guess she has no idea what the annual property taxes are on that house, let alone the monthly hydro bill.”

“I can’t blame her for not knowing something she has never needed to know.”

“Exactly. Feeling any kinder?”

Jake laughs a little. “You know, I am. You’re good at this, Mackenzie.” His voice is warm and I have the urge to curl up against him. To snuggle and maybe a little bit more.