by Cindi Madsen
I reached into my purse and ran my hand along the bottom, searching for my keys. “I understand that you need to work sometimes, but don’t call and insist we go out if you need to take care of something else.” Finally, I found my keys and unlocked the door.
Jake followed me in. “I wouldn’t have taken the calls if they weren’t important. It’s like when you have to take calls from your boss. You don’t want to answer, but sometimes you have to anyway.”
“But my calls rarely last more than five minutes.” I kicked off my shoes and sighed. “Whatever. I don’t want to have a big thing about it. I’m just tired and done with today.” I ran a hand through my hair. “This is the crappy relationship stuff that I hate.”
“I guess it’s good thing we’re not in a relationship, then,” he said sarcastically.
“I guess so.”
The muscles along his jaw tensed as he stared at me. He took a deep breath and blew it out. “I’ve got a lot going on right now. I shouldn’t have gone out tonight, but I was worried you’d be upset about last night, and then I ended up making you more upset, which is the complete opposite of what I was going for.”
My eyes burned as I tried to keep the tears from coming. I can’t have a breakdown now. Not in front of him. “I’m going to bed. I’ll see you later.”
Jake ran his hand down my arm and slipped his fingers between mine. “Darby, come on. We’re going to have disagreements from time to time.” His phone rang and he swore. He glanced at the display. “It’s the restaurant. I’ve got to take it.”
“I understand. I really do. You’ve got to take that and I’ve got to get to bed early so I can deal with tomorrow.” I opened the door and motioned for him to go.
He kissed me on the cheek as he brushed past. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
I closed the door behind him and double-checked my locks.
What a shitty night. Why’d I have to run into Porter the same day Jake and I have our first fight?
Rest was what I needed. I was sure that everything would look better tomorrow morning. I washed my face, brushed my teeth, changed into my pajamas, and crawled into bed.
But I couldn’t fall asleep.
…
I finished typing up the options for the flooring and e-mailed the information to Patricia. I give her ten minutes to call me and ask me about this, even though I already sent it to her.
The phone on my desk rang. I saw it was from the front desk and hit the speaker button. “What’s up?”
“You have a Mr. Porter Montgomery here to see you,” Kathy said.
My throat went dry. Seeing Porter last night had stirred up issues I thought I was over. All night long I’d replayed my relationship with him, then my sort-of relationship with Jake. Everything was a big, confusing mess. And it looked like it was about to get messier.
“Go ahead and send him back.”
I sat back, trying to act casual even though it felt like a swarm of bees had taken up residence in my stomach.
Porter walked through my open doorway and flashed his million-dollar smile. It brought out the cleft in his chin and lit up his eyes.
“Come on in,” I said, annoyed at the way my voice wavered.
Porter closed the door behind him. He strode up to my desk, his eyes never leaving mine. “You know, when I first got to New York I missed you like crazy. In fact, I was crushed you decided not to move there with me. Before long, though, I was busy, met other people, and stopped thinking about you.”
I thought of the months I’d missed him. Of how I’d reviewed my case studies and entered him in with the rest of my exes, every keystroke breaking my heart a little more. “Wow. I’m so glad you stopped by to tell me that.”
Porter placed his palms on my desk and leaned toward me. “But ever since I saw you last night, you’re all I can think about. The guy you were with, the guy who ignored you all night, tell me he’s not your boyfriend.”
I didn’t know what to say about Jake. Especially after our discussion last night. He’d made it clear we weren’t in a relationship. “We’re sort of…undefined.”
“Let me take you out, then. Surely he can handle a little competition.” Porter’s expression—cocky grin, one eyebrow higher than the other—said he didn’t think he’d have a problem taking out the competition.
Most of Jake’s calls last night had been about opening another Blue in Salt Lake. With him leaving for months, and our whatever-it-was starting to crack, I wasn’t sure what his and my future held. Or if we even had a future. My chest tightened and a lump rose in my throat. I worked to shove those emotions down and looked at Porter, trying to think objectively about the current mess I’d gotten myself into. After all, there’d been a point in my life when I’d thought Porter was “the one.”
The phone on my desk rang, scattering my thoughts. “I’m really busy right now. Patricia’s got me working on this project, and things are crazy.”
Porter came around my desk, grabbed a Post-it and a pen, and wrote down his name and number. “Call me later.” He stuck the Post-it on my computer monitor, bent down and kissed my cheek, then walked out of my office.
I answered the phone—it was Patricia, demanding I go to the contractors to look over the new plans. After I hung up, I stared at Porter’s number, my heart catching at the familiar writing. Then I thought about Jake and our time together, beginning to end, and the pain in my chest deepened.
If Jake weren’t leaving for months, the answer would be easy.
I shut down my computer and stood. Last minute, I turned back and ripped the Post-it off my computer screen.
…
As soon as I got out of the meeting with the contractors, I picked up my phone and called an emergency get-together with Stephanie. Full-on wedding mode or not, I needed my best friend. By the time I arrived at her place, my emotions were coiled so tightly I thought I might explode. Stephanie waved me inside the home she and Anthony shared. “Come on back. I’m just packing a few things for the honeymoon.”
I followed her to her bedroom and watched her consult her bullet-pointed list.
“So what’s up?” she said.
“I ran into Porter last night,” I said.
Steph whipped toward me, eyes wide.
“Then Jake and I had our first fight.”
Steph set her pile of clothes on the bed. “Okay, this is a sit-down conversation. Let’s go get something to drink and talk it out.”
We went back out to the living room. I sat on the couch; Steph disappeared into the kitchen and came back with two cans of Sprite. “Sorry. This is all I’ve got.”
I took a can from her. “That’s okay. I don’t mind starting with the hard stuff.”
She popped the top of her soda and sat on the couch facing me. “Start with the fight.”
“Jake was thirty minutes late to dinner last night, then he spent the entire time on his phone. I sat there having dinner with myself, so I was annoyed, and when he walked me home we had this big stupid thing over it.”
“You wouldn’t be fighting if you didn’t care. I just read this article about how if you never fight, one of you isn’t speaking up. It compared a good fight to getting an oil change for your car. You have to clear the gunk out to keep the ride going smoothly.”
Steph and all her articles that had the answers to everything. If only they really did. I blew out my breath. “So how do you know the difference between an oil change and something that will ruin your car forever?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t think one bad dinner’s enough.” She took a swig of her soda. “Get to the part with Porter, and we’ll come back to Jake.”
When I told her about Porter’s visit to my office, Stephanie slammed her soda can on the coffee table with a clink and shook her head. “That’s so Porter. To just show up, make a grand gesture, and think he can get his way.” When I didn’t say anything, her eyes widened. “You’re not seriously thinking of… Darby, no.” She put her hand on my k
nee. “I know you loved Porter, and that since you two only broke up because he moved, you never really got closure. But he didn’t offer to visit back and forth. He never even called after he moved. He blew his chance. I think you should work things out with Jake.”
I slumped back against her couch. “Honestly, after I took Jake to the ranch, I decided I wanted to do the relationship thing with him. Then I found out he’s thinking about opening a restaurant in Salt Lake. He’ll be gone for months.” Saying it aloud sent a sharp pang through my chest.
“Maybe he won’t go if you tell him how much you care about him.”
“I’m not going to ask him to choose me over his job,” I said, shaking my head. “That’s what he was on the phone about all last night and I could tell it’s a big deal to him. I swear, it’s like Porter all over again.” I rubbed my forehead, my eyes burning from trying to hold back tears. “Gil, too. All the good ones always move away.” I cracked open my soda and took a big gulp, enjoying the way the fizzy bubbles burned on the way down. “I don’t know what to do about anything anymore.”
Stephanie’s eyes lit up and I could practically see the lightbulb blinking on over her head. “I’ve got just the thing.” She walked over to the entertainment center and dug through her CDs. “The breakup mix we made after Gil left for school and I broke up with Paul.”
Music I hadn’t heard in years blasted through the room. It didn’t take long for Steph and me to belt out the lyrics to “Don’t Speak” along with No Doubt.
“‘Good Riddance’ by Green Day is coming up next,” Steph said over the music.
“And how exactly is listening to this old music supposed to help?”
Steph shrugged. “We sit back and wait for inspiration to hit.”
Each song produced a sea of memories—some good, some bad. Old relationships, days in the apartment with Steph, hours spent cramming for school. I leaned against Stephanie’s shoulder. “Sometimes I wish we could go back to those college years when you and I lived in that tiny apartment with so few responsibilities. Then I remember Allen, Boone, Evan—you and your string of bad boyfriends. The studying, eating nothing but ramen, and our crappy, run-down apartment, and I think where I’m at isn’t so bad.”
“We’ve done pretty well for ourselves,” Steph said. “And I’m getting married to an amazing man in a little more than a week.”
“You’re going to be the best, most beautiful bride. I’m happy for you, Steph. I know I don’t say it enough.”
A huge smile spread across her face. “Thanks. That means a lot to me.” She leaned her head onto mine. We sat there like that, listening as The Verve’s “Bitter Sweet Symphony” replaced Christina Aguilera.
When the last track on the CD ended, Stephanie sat up and twisted to face me. “Promise me you’ll at least talk to Jake. He deserves a face-to-face conversation.”
“And what am I supposed to say to him?”
“Hello’s always a good place to start.”
Chapter Thirty-one
I should’ve gone back to the office—I had more than enough work to do—but I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to know where Jake and I stood. I’d gotten in the habit of spouting off reasons to not be together, and now I needed to switch gears and have a real discussion about staying together and whether that was even an option.
The fading rays of sunlight peeked between the buildings, striping the sidewalk in front of me. Even with the sun setting, the heat of the day remained. Walking only made me hotter. And sweatier, which wasn’t exactly the look I’d been hoping for.
Blue’s navy awning came into view, sending a panicky feeling through my chest. I wish I could just fast forward to later when this part is over and I already know how it went.
Still, underneath those nerves was a glimmer of hope. After our swim, Jake had talked about good things taking work and a little risk, and it’d never felt truer than now. The fact that he might leave for several months scared me, but there had to be a way to make it work. That was as optimistic as I got, and it felt scary and awesome at the same time.
My heart picked up speed as I pulled open the door to Blue. Several people stood in the lobby, waiting to be seated. Looking down the walkway gave me a good view of the main dining area. The place was busy but not packed. Butterflies filled my stomach when I saw Jake at a table near the back—even after our fight last night, all I wanted was to be in his arms again.
I can do this, I thought, taking long strides toward him, ready to spill my heart out and ask him to take me despite my issues.
Then I noticed he wasn’t alone.
The woman seated across from him had strawberry-blond hair, and they seemed to be having an intense conversation. Okay, don’t jump to any conclusions. Maybe it’s his sister. In the movies, it’s always the sister.
Then I remembered his sister had dark hair.
Maybe she dyed her hair. Or it’s a cousin.
Or just someone who comes into the restaurant all the time. It’s okay for him to have female friends.
But then he looked up at me and this guilty expression crossed his face.
He held up a finger to the woman and then stood, placing himself between her and me. “Hey. I thought you had to work late.”
I answered on autopilot, a creeping sense of foreboding rising in me. “I needed to take care of a few other things, so I took off early. So…what’re you doing?” I gave a pointed look to the blonde sitting there, poorly concealing the fact that she was staring at us.
“Darby…it’s not… I meant to tell you—”
I turned, throwing a hand up. This couldn’t be happening.
He caught my arm, and I whipped around. “Who is she?” My breaths were coming too fast, my pulse pounded through my head, and the room started to spin. The past few days had been a roller coaster. I always puke after roller coasters, and I felt like puking now. How could he be one of the bad ones?
“She’s my ex…fiancée.”
The words stabbed me in the chest, every syllable radiating pain. I tried to jerk away, but he kept hold of my arm. “Look, I can explain. Just come to my office so we don’t have to do this in front of everyone in the entire restaurant.”
Tears formed in my eyes, threatening to break free. “It’s my fault. I played with fire and I got burned.” I jabbed a finger in his chest. “I thought you were different, so I let you swoop in and change my mind, just like I swore I’d never do again.”
“I’ll be right back,” Jake said over his shoulder, and then he nudged me toward his office. I wanted to fight him, to head in the other direction, but I was so numb that I just let him blindly lead me inside the room that had caused us to meet. That we’d later made out in.
“Look, I swear I was going to tell you about Shannon, but it never seemed like a good time. I was finally starting to get through to you and I knew you’d freak out. You’d use it to prove your theory about relationships.”
“I love it when liars make it sound like it’s all your fault instead of theirs. I don’t know whether to be more mad about the fact you lied or about how you preached on and on about commitment and making things work.”
“Hey, you were the one with the rules about no talking about the past. No mentioning anything that would freak you out. Those were your rules and now you’re getting mad that I didn’t break them?”
“You’re right, okay? My rules make no sense, and it’s all my fault that you’re still meeting with your ex.” Crying was something I hated doing in front of people. Usually, I could stop the tears, but I felt one roll down my cheek. “Good-bye, Jake. You were always destined to be another case study anyway. I ran out of princes, so I’ll just have to smoosh you into the Cinderella case with the other Prince Charming.”
I sniffed and started for the door.
Jake was faster.
He blocked the exit. “I’m not letting you leave until you allow me to explain a few things.”
“I’m sure your explanation will be char
ming and full of crap. So no thanks.”
Jake crossed his arms, not moving from his spot in the doorway. “Shannon and I had only been engaged a few months when I decided to leave my dad’s company and open the restaurant. She moved to Denver with me, but she missed New York, her friends, and her family. We started fighting about everything. From how to load the dishwasher, to coasters under glasses, to how loud I was in the morning. I couldn’t do anything right.”
Jake ran a hand through his hair. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying it was all her fault. I was putting everything into opening the restaurant, gone all the time, and she and I grew apart. The little bit of time we spent together, we hardly talked. I always had to guess what she was thinking, because she wouldn’t just tell me, and when I couldn’t figure it out, she’d get even angrier.”
He reached out and squeezed my shoulder. “That’s why I like that you tell me how you feel. When we fought about my being on the phone last night, I was frustrated, but you were right. Sometimes I get so focused on work, I neglect everything else in my life. I don’t want to do it again.” He ran his hand down my arm. “Not with you.”
“So you’re telling me that it doesn’t matter that you called off your engagement because it just wasn’t right?”
“It wasn’t right. It’s lucky we realized that before we committed to spending the rest of our lives together.”
A mirthless laugh escaped my lips. “That’s the thing. People think everything will magically work out with someone else. But it’s the same, no matter who you’re with. Passion fades, problems arise, the world gets in the way, or you meet someone else new and exciting. Then everyone justifies that they tried, making it okay to cheat or to walk away.”
“Don’t you think it’s a little hypocritical to lecture me on commitment when you have a problem with it, too? How many failed relationships have you had?”
“None that ever went as far as engagement,” I shot back.
“And with all the walls you throw up, you never will.”
