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A Timeless Romance Anthology: Spring Vacation Collection (A Timeless Romance Anthology)

Page 7

by Josi S. Kilpack


  He was the top of his law school class. He was smart. No way was he stupid enough to think that she’d stick around like a pathetic puppy, waiting around forever for any scrap of attention or affection he was willing to throw her when it occurred to him.

  Except for the fact that she’d basically proved that she’d always be a puppy, always waiting, always there.

  After wiping her mascara off with a tissue, Tess leaned against the bathroom counter and gazed at her reflection, studying it—really studying it, but this time not for flaws. She tried to be as objective as possible.

  “I’m not ugly,” she whispered, after taking a full inventory. Even with red, puffy eyes and no makeup, she really wasn’t ugly. She was actually quite pretty. Not model gorgeous. Not even beautiful. But pretty. Maybe James was holding out for beauty bombshell.

  Turd.

  What now? Mom, she thought. I have to go see Mom. She’ll know what to do. She’ll let me stay with her while I figure this out. Her mother would make her famous brownies then hold Tess and let her cry it out over cups of Mexican hot chocolate. She could hide from James there at her mother’s place in California. She’d screen her calls and never—ever—answer a call or text from him again.

  Yes. The more she thought about the plan, the better it sounded. She wouldn’t check her e-mail—or better yet, she’d just block his email address from her account. She’d unfriend him on Facebook. Change her relationship status back to single.

  She’d take control of her life. She’d surrendered that control entirely to James for far too long.

  Three years I’ll never get back.

  With the energy of anger and purpose, she pushed away from the counter top and headed back to the living room, where her sister still sat on the couch, now watching a dating reality TV show. The couple was making out in a Jacuzzi. Tess wanted to throw up at the sight—it created new questions for her. Had James fallen for someone else? Had he cheated on her? She’d never have thought so, but before tonight, she’d never thought James was capable of being a jerk, either.

  Hope looked over her shoulder and noticed the look on Tess’s face. She grimaced and punched a button on the remote and changed the show to some mystery series. “Sorry,” she said. “I wasn’t thinking.”

  “It’s okay,” Tess said, collapsing on the couch and pulling a pillow onto her lap. “Do you think Mom’s home right now?”

  Hope’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Probably. Why?” She looked at her watch and added, “I doubt she’s in bed yet. What are you thinking?”

  “Just an idea.” She smiled for the first time since leaving the party, feeling a strange rush, a sense of power.

  I have no intention of letting James ever see me again.

  * * *

  Two hours later, Tess was in her red Mustang convertible, driving west on Interstate 10, headed for Newport Beach. After Tess’s father suddenly died five years ago, her mother had moved there, leasing a house a few blocks from the ocean. It was a place Tess loved to visit. Going to the beach and strolling the pier always cleared her head. There was nothing in the world like the calm, cooling waves and the salty tang of the ocean. Only a six-hour drive from Tempe, yet a world away. Tess had called from her apartment before packing up her car with three suitcases. Her mother had happily agreed to let Tess stay in the guest room.

  “See you tomorrow!” her mother had said before hanging up.

  Tomorrow, yes, but earlier than her mother expected. Tess would drive straight through the night. She’d show up on her mother’s doorstep for breakfast. Tess would collapse in her mother’s arms, cry, then take a long nap, and they’d have those brownies and hot chocolate as she talked about stupid James.

  Tess would be safe from him there. He knew her mother lived out in California, and near a beach, but she was pretty sure he didn’t know exactly where, and California had hundreds of miles of beach. He also didn’t know her mother’s first name, so there wasn’t much chance he could Google her to figure out where Tess was headed—assuming he wanted to find her, which she didn’t dare hope.

  Her gaze sketched over to her phone sitting in a cup holder—he had sent a few texts, none of which told her anything besides the fact that James probably felt guilty. Which he should.

  She’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail so it wouldn’t fly in her eyes then put the convertible top down, letting the warm desert air blow across her face. It was early enough in the year that the sweltering heat of the Arizona summer hadn’t come yet. Instead the night was warm enough for her to enjoy the spring wind whipping her hair. Newport would be cooler; it was a bit early for lying out in sun or taking a dip at the beach. Good thing, too—she’d be able to have her time on the pier in solitude instead of sharing it with the packed beaches of summer. She couldn’t wait to look out at the endless expanse of ocean, listen to the even rolling of the waves as they came in and broke on the shore, always the same yet new, and always reliable. She could fall asleep to the sound, it was so relaxing—and she’d definitely need something powerful to calm her down for the next while, until she decided what to do. Maybe she could move to Newport. Telecommute permanently, and pick up some freelance work. She knew plenty of graphic designers who worked freelance full time.

  Even though Tess wanted to get away from everything, she’d brought along her computer. Only an hour away from Tempe, she was already glad her laptop was on the passenger seat. She hoped her boss, Gary, would be understanding about her sudden absence from the office.

  Yet how would she explain the situation: “Sorry, but I’m having a crisis in my love life; I need some time away”?

  She’d figure something out. And if Gary decided to be a turd like James, she’d find another job or find a way to freelance full time. She was good at graphic design; as long as she had her computer and an Internet connection, she could work. Assuming she could think of something besides James.

  The signs along the freeway said that the exit to Buckeye was coming in up a few miles. She’d fill up her tank to get her over the next several hundred miles of almost nothingness, and while there, send Hope a text so she knew Tess was safe. As the car hummed along the asphalt, its headlights cutting through the darkness, she smiled, cranked up the radio, and sang at the top of her lungs to Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believing.”

  She would survive this. She’d get rid of James. Cut him from her life like the cancer he was. He’d already taken three years. He wouldn’t take one more day. Sometime in the future, she would look back on this spring as the time she escaped that James guy.

  She was free. Yet, until tonight, she’d never wanted to be free of James. Never thought of herself as being imprisoned to him. She’d loved him. Still did. And that’s why it hurt. Tonight was so out of character for him.

  Tonight was out of character for her, too. But it’s his fault. I can’t wait for him. No more stringing me along. It’s over.

  She punched the accelerator and cruised faster through the darkness.

  Chapter Three

  James stood on the platform, confused as he watched Tess run out. Was she sick?

  He had been excited to tell everyone—including Tess—about the internship. Sure, he’d known she’d be disappointed a tad at first, knowing they’d have to put off planning their wedding a little longer. But she’d come around. She always did. She’d understand that this was the chance of a lifetime. She’d been supportive every time he’d taken time away from her, whether it was a law review deadline or a special dinner for his class with a professor.

  I understand, she’d say. It’s temporary, right?

  And each time, he’d assured her that of course it—whatever it was that time—was temporary.

  She’d looked into his eyes with her amber brown ones. I’ll always be here waiting for you when you’re done chasing the law school dream. And when you’re done, we’ll begin our dream life together.

  Had he ignored a sad tone in her voice when she’d said those words? He racke
d his brain but couldn’t remember. He hadn’t paid attention to her reaction, because he’s been so wrapped up in his ambitions, his goals, his life. The thought made his stomach go sour. Those thoughts were broken up by law-school buddies crowding the platform, cheering and thumping him on the back with congratulations. Through the chaos, he glanced at the door again, hoping to see Tess reappear. She never did.

  The party didn’t go late; an hour later, guests were already saying their good-byes. But James had an uneasy feeling the entire time. Whenever he thought no one was looking, he checked his phone to see if Tess had called or texted or emailed. Nothing. He’d have to call as soon as he could to smooth things over. She’d understand when he explained that he couldn’t turn down an opportunity like this. He hadn’t expected to have something amazing dropped in his lap, and she’d always been supportive of anything that would put him ahead. And after the internship, he’d be back. They’d have a bigger, better life because he’d be able to get a job at any firm he applied at, even if nothing opened up at Preston, Carson, and McNeil.

  He checked his phone again. Nothing. He’d called once, but she hadn’t answered—and he couldn’t get himself to leave a message about something this important. He had to talk to her. Half an hour after trying to call her, he’d sent the first of four texts. His first, You okay? was followed by I need to talk to you, then Please reply, and finally, a simple, Please.

  He’d slip out as soon as he could, which wasn’t yet. His mother was a stickler for etiquette and wouldn’t take kindly to the guest of honor leaving early from the party she’d paid for. Rather, that his father had paid for. But it was the same thing. Dad earned the money; Mom spent it. Finally, as the party died down and James felt like he could make an exit without ruffling too many feathers, he gave his mother a hug and a kiss on the cheek then shook his father’s hand.

  “I’m proud of you, son.”

  “Thank you,” James said, suddenly realizing how formal he sounded with his parents. Tess was never like that with her family. When he heard her and her mother talking on the phone, they were casual and thoughtful. They laughed. He couldn’t ever remember laughing with either of his parents.

  “I’d better get your mother home,” his father said he put an arm around her waist. “She needs her rest, you know.” James nodded in response as he removed his mother’s cashmere cardigan from the chair back and draped it over her shoulders.

  “Thank you, dear,” she said, clasping the front of her sweater with one hand and patting his cheek with the other. Looking into his eyes she added, “I’m glad you finally decided that Tess was holding you back. You’re far more worthy of the life New York holds for you than practicing law in a little town with no name.”

  As his parents walked out, James stood there, feet planted to the floor in shock, face immovable. His parents assumed that he was dropping Tess altogether? That he somehow deserved better than Tess?

  Is that why Tess ran away—she thought I was breaking up with her? He raked fingers from both hands through his hair, totally mussing it up. At least his mother wasn’t here to see him ruin his perfectly coiffed hair. Not that he cared anymore. Tess. Oh, no.

  He had to escape, find her and explain that she meant the world to him. Because she did—only now did he realize how much. The thought of the internship turned to ashes in his mind. A fancy life as a high-powered attorney would mean nothing if he didn’t share it with Tess. He’d taken for granted that he’d have both. Maybe he still could.

  He hurried out to his Mercedes and peeled out of the parking lot, speed dialing Tess. After two rings, it went to voice mail. Either her phone was off, or she was screening calls and not answering when she saw his number. Because she hadn’t replied to any of his texts, he guessed the latter. After the beep, he opened his mouth to leave a message, but didn’t know what to say. Too much for a voice message. He had to see her, talk to her face to face.

  He hung up and tossed his phone into a cup holder in the console. What could he say so Tess would understand? He wasn’t breaking up with her. He wanted to be with her.

  But I can’t pass up the internship, can I? It was the opportunity of a lifetime.

  How to make Tess see that? Then it came to him—Tess always listened to her sister. If he could get Hope on his side, he might be able to convince Tess to come back to him.

  Just before you leave her, a voice whispered in his head.

  Yes, but I’m doing it for us, he countered.

  Are you?

  The thoughts were making him crazy. He turned on the radio and cranked it high, not caring what the music was, so long as it was loud enough to drown out his thoughts as he drove straight to Tess’s condo. He’d assumed that she would be home but unwilling to see him, so he’d talk to Hope. But when he got there, her car wasn’t in her spot. Not a good sign. Lights were on in the front room—someone was still awake—so he went up the steps and knocked on the door, hard and loud. Something inside—the television or some music, maybe—stopped suddenly, and feet padded to the door. When it opened, he saw Hope.

  “Is Tess home?” He knew she wasn’t, but he wasn’t thinking clearly.

  Hope, wearing red pajamas with Christmas trees—even though it was April—folded her arms and leaned against the door frame. James shook his head. Why was he noticing something as stupid as Hope’s pajamas?

  “Why should I tell you?” she asked.

  “Where is she?” he demanded, looking over her shoulder in case Tess was inside after all. “Her car’s not here. I’m worried.” Images flashed through his mind of what could have happened. Did she drive around the city until she ran out of gas? Had she been in an accident? He wanted to yell, but he reined in his emotions and spoke calmly. “Just tell me where I can find Tess. I have to talk to her. Please.”

  Hope shrugged as if he didn’t matter. He probably deserved that. “She left. Packed up a couple of bags and drove away.” Her hand waved as if showing how the car had gone off into the distance.

  The blood drained from James’s face. “Drove away? Where?”

  When Hope didn’t answer—just stared him down with one raised eyebrow, as if he was about as pleasant to be around as a slug—he tried again.

  “Look, she won’t answer her phone. I’ve tried texting her too, a lot, but I get no answer.”

  Hope shook her head, lips pursed. “You know, if I’d been treated like crap by my boyfriend on the night he was supposed to propose but then instead, humiliated me in public, I probably wouldn’t answer either.”

  He felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. My big news. She thought... Oh, no. “At least tell me when she’ll be back.”

  “I honestly don’t know. Not that I’d tell you if I did.”

  James ran his fingers through is hair again. At this rate, he’d look like Einstein soon. He tried another tack. “Did she say she was breaking up with me? What did she tell you—exactly?”

  Hope laughed with a snort. “Men really are dense, aren’t they?”

  “Just tell me.” James grabbed his tie and loosened it then undid the top two buttons. His expensive gray suit was already rumpled. He was far more rumpled in spirit.

  She wore a smirk. “And I quote: ‘He’s been straddling the fence for too long. I’m done.’ That clear enough for you? Good night, James. Although I don’t think you deserve even that much. I really don’t hope you have a good night at all.”

  With that, she slammed the door. It banged, followed by the thunk of the deadbolt sliding into place. The sound made the headache behind James’s eyes throb. Instead of leaving, he turned and sat on the step. He gazed at the full moon, thinking about tonight, Hope’s words combined with Tess’s horrified look before she ran out of the room.

  For three years, Tess’s supportive mantra had always been I’ll wait. He’d appreciated it—every day. Yet a niggling thought in the back of his head had sometimes tried to warn him that one of these days, he’d have to be the one who supported her dreams. Come
to think of it, he wasn’t entirely sure what those dreams were. Tess liked to take pictures. Did she want to be a photographer? How sad that after three years, he didn’t know what drove her, besides being with him.

  Am I worth that kind of devotion? He scrubbed a hand across his chin, newly shaved for the evening. His mother wouldn’t have stood a son with a five o’clock shadow at his own soiree. Mother also didn’t think Tess deserved him. Truth was, he didn’t deserve her.

  He looked over his shoulder at the door. He and Tess had stood by it countless times when he picked her up and dropped her off after nights out together. He’d first kissed her here at midnight under the moonlight, her soft lips with their ever-present peach lipstick, were tender and warm beneath his. He remembered her mouth responding eagerly to his.

  He’s been straddling the fence for too long. I’m done.

  Recalling the words Hope quoted suddenly shattered the memory. Maybe he had been straddling the fence, not committing to anything, but not freeing Tess to find happiness either. He’d enjoyed having a devoted girlfriend. She was beautiful and kind—and convenient. He hated admitting the last one, but it was true. He’d enjoyed being single and having fun, no strings attached, when it wasn’t convenient. He’d blown her off many times because of a paper due or a test to study for. He’d never lied to her about his obligations, but maybe he’d let them become a priority when he could have found room for Tess to be in his life along with the other things.

  Suddenly he remembered one of many visiting guest lecturers. Something extra he’d attended. It wasn’t required, but he’d gone anyway, at the expense of dinner with Tess’s mother. He cringed at the memory, knowing he’d gone to the lecture and rubbed shoulders with the speaker afterward, not because he had to, but to impress everyone in the lecture hall. Law school was so much about impressions, about who you kissed up to. He’d done a great job of that. But at what price?

 

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