off, but when she started to close the door, he said, “Leave the door open, please.”
“I’d prefer it closed.”
“I insist that it stays open.”
“But—”
“Your choice…either the door stays open or I sleep in your room.”
She left the door open.
She wouldn’t cry anymore. Not tonight. Not unless she hid in the bathroom so no one could possibly hear her. As she lay in bed, the musical snow globe resting on her stomach, Peggy Jo wondered why she’d obeyed Jack Parker’s orders. When he’d given her a choice of either keeping the door open or him sleeping in her room, why hadn’t she reminded him that she was his boss, not the other way around? Answer that! she demanded of herself. Because you knew the man wasn’t bluffing. And you knew he was right.
She lifted the snow globe, turned it over and wound the musical mechanism. The theme from the old movie, Love Story, played softly, sweetly, reminding her of her mother. It had been her mother’s favorite song. When Peggy Jo had left home at seventeen, fleeing from her angry, jealous stepmother and her weak-willed father, she had taken only a suitcase of clothes and this one precious item—Marjorie Riley McNair’s treasured snow globe. Over the years this one possession of her mother’s had become a symbol of security and love, just as taking her mother’s maiden name had been a tribute to her mother’s memory. If only her mother hadn’t died when Peggy Jo was seven. If only her father hadn’t married Agnes when Peggy Jo was fourteen. If only her father hadn’t allowed his new wife to make life a living hell for the teenage Peggy Jo. If only Vernon McNair had given his own daughter half the love and attention he’d given his new wife and stepson. But years ago Peggy Jo had realized the uselessness of wasting too much time thinking if only. She seldom allowed herself to look back, to think about what might have been. Only on rare occasions when she wallowed in self-pity. She had so many regrets that she could spend a week just naming all of them. Of course, the biggest mistake she’d ever made was marrying Buck Forbes.
Don’t think about Buck! You have enough to worry about without reliving the three and a half miserable years you were married to that bastard!
She set the globe on the nightstand to her right, turned off the lamp and pulled the covers up to her neck. As she tossed and turned, adjusting and readjusting to find the most comfortable position for sleep, she started thinking about Jack Parker. And no matter how hard she tried to dismiss the man from her mind, she couldn’t. She shut her eyes tight and started silently chanting the words to the theme song of her TV show. Suddenly an image of Jack flashed through her mind. His wide, sexy smile. His broad shoulders. His big hands. His big feet. His big gun!
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