“Michigan,” corrected Jill as she took a sip of her margarita. “Tam went to medical school in Michigan. And I actually hear from her once in awhile. She finished med school in three years, of course, by going to summer school every year and piling on the classes. She’s an intern now at some hospital in Virginia.”
Shoshana nodded. “I’m not surprised. She always was way too focused on school and staying one step ahead of her sister.”
Jill chuckled. “Well, she’s several steps ahead of her twin now. Apparently her sister fell in love, ditched medical school to get married, and now she’s expecting a baby. You’d think Tam would have been happy about all of that, but she’s actually ticked off. After all, you can’t continue to compete with someone when the other party bows out of the game. Not to mention the fact that her sister’s husband is from some serious money, which means Tam feels the need to succeed more than ever.”
Casey shrugged and took a much more generous gulp of her margarita than Jill’s dainty sip had been. “Life’s too damned short to worry about all that crap, you know? If I learned one thing during my nearly four years of hell living in L.A. it’s that there’s more important stuff than being successful and having tons of money. Not, of course, that I was either successful or rich. Just the opposite, in fact. But that was always the goal, as you guys know. Too bad I just wasted four years of my life chasing a dream that was never going to happen.”
“Hey,” protested Shoshana, giving Casey’s hand an encouraging squeeze. “Don’t think of it as wasting time. You learned some hard lessons, learned that it’s almost impossible to break into your chosen field, and now you’ve decided to pursue a different career. You really think everyone who graduates from college remains in their field of study for their entire life? Hell, I’ve met people at the office who’ve had three or four different careers, and they aren’t even forty years old yet.”
“Besides,” chimed in Jill cheerfully, “now you and Sho are roomies again, and I can see both of you on a regular basis. So there are a lot of positives about switching jobs and moving up here. For one thing, your commute is bound to be a whole lot shorter.”
“You’ve got that right,” grimaced Casey. “L.A. drivers are all nuts. I was nuts to be one of them for so long. And while the traffic in the Bay Area isn’t the greatest, at least I’ll only have a five mile drive to and from work.”
Shoshana elbowed her roommate playfully in the ribs. “I’m trying to convince Case to start biking to and from work. I’ve lost almost twenty pounds since I started doing the same.”
“You look fantastic, Sho,” Jill told her warmly. “Love the new haircut, too.”
Shoshana had in fact slimmed down considerably since college, thanks to a mostly low-carb, lean protein diet, cycling ten miles every day to and from her job, and doing longer rides on the weekend. She’d joined a cycling club, and was dating one of the men she’d met there.
“He’s even Jewish, if you can believe that,” she’d told Jill. “Mostly non-observant like I am these days, but it made my mother happy when I told her his last name was Kauffman. And since I haven’t managed to make my mother happy about much of anything since I left home, I guess that should count for something.”
Shoshana fluffed her new, short hairdo. It was still curly, of course, but the shorter length made it look neater and was much more flattering to her round face.
“Thanks. It’s a breeze to take care of now. I just slick some gel stuff in it and let it air dry and do what it wants. Easier to stick under my bike helmet, too. Speaking of which.”
Casey glared. “I haven’t plopped my arse on a bike since I was fourteen years old, so it’s not likely to happen now. I swear you’re like a reformed addict, or one of those born-again Christians, Sho, trying to convert everyone over to your side. I’m perfectly happy with my five mile drive, thank you very much. And since you volunteered to drive tonight, I’m pouring myself another margarita. These are definitely kickass.”
The three friends were having dinner at a Mexican restaurant located about halfway between Jill’s place in San Francisco, and the two-bedroom condo Shoshana and Casey were sharing in San Jose. Jill, who still didn’t own a car, had grabbed an Uber to the Peninsula restaurant. It was the first time the three of them had been able to get together since Casey’s very recent move from southern California, where she’d finally given up on her dreams of breaking into the highly competitive digital arts industry. After working at what had amounted to a dead-end job, enduring a hellish commute five days a week, and getting tired of barely making ends meet with her paltry salary, Casey had finally taken Shoshana up on her offer to move into her spare bedroom. She was also making a major career change, having accepted a job in catering and event sales at one of the big hotels in downtown San Jose.
“They loved my Aussie accent,” she’d told Jill during a recent phone call. “Not quite as posh as a British one, of course, but they probably think it’ll impress the guests or something. All I know is that I’ll be making more money than I did at the film studio, working regular hours, and actually qualify for medical benefits. Plus, I’ll be with my two best girls again. That’s the best part, after all.”
Casey had moved to San Jose just a scant three weeks ago, but already she looked much happier and far less stressed than the last time Jill had seen her. The rainbow-hued streaks she’d put in her dirty blonde hair last summer had thankfully faded away now, and she’d clipped her shoulder length tresses back into a neat ponytail. She was dressed more appropriately for her new job as well, wearing a tailored black pantsuit, white silk blouse, and low-heeled black pumps instead of the ripped jeans, low-cut tank tops, and flip-flops she had favored while living in Los Angeles.
“You look like an actual grown-up these days,” teased Jill. “Welcome to adulthood.”
Casey grimaced. “Don’t remind me. But, yeah, I’ll be saving my cut-offs and sundresses for the weekends. At least when it’s finally summer up here. The one positive thing about living in L.A. was that the weather was warm and sunny almost year round. I think it’s rained nearly every day since I moved up here.”
“It will get better,” assured Shoshana. “Summers in San Jose are pretty warm, in the eighties just about every day. And it doesn’t rain here anywhere near as much as it did in Seattle. Right, Jill?”
“Absolutely,” agreed Jill. “And on the rare occasions I get a little tired of the fog in San Francisco I just think back to those hot, humid summers in South Carolina and realize how much better I have it out here. In a lot of ways.”
The waiter arrived with their meals just then, and all three women dug into their food hungrily. Jill realized that once again she’d sort of skipped lunch, unless a slice of birthday cake for one of her co-workers counted as a meal. She never intentionally forgot to eat, of course. Rather, it was simply a matter of getting so wrapped up in whatever project she was currently involved in that she tended to lose all track of time.
“You’ve never been tempted to go back home for a visit?” inquired Casey. “You know, to lord it over all of those bitchy girls who shunned you in high school. I’ll bet most of them got married at twenty, already have a couple of kids, and are stuck at home all day while their husband works some dead-end job.”
Jill couldn’t help smiling at her friend’s all-too-accurate description of the sort of lifestyle many of those girls probably had. “No, I’ve never been tempted. Not even once. I mean, it’s not like I have friends or family to visit there. And it’s such a small, sleepy little town, hardly anything to do or see. The most exciting thing that happens is when the Dairy Queen gets a new Blizzard flavor on their menu.”
Shoshana snickered. “Yeah, I totally get why visiting the old hometown wouldn’t be a high priority. Unfortunately, I don’t have any excuses for not going back to Chicago at least twice a year. If my mother had her way, I’d be visiting once a month. Or worse, moving back there permanently. So not happening, by
the way. Ever. I’m a California girl now, and I’m never, ever spending another winter enduring snow and blizzards and sub-zero temperatures.”
Casey raised her margarita glass. “Here’s to the three of us - a Jewish girl from Chicago, an Aussie, and a Southern belle. And as different as we all are, somehow we found each other in Seattle and became the best of friends. Life is funny sometimes, isn’t it?”
Jill and Shoshana clinked glasses with Casey before digging back into their dinners. Jill chewed her bottom lip uncertainly for a moment before blurting out, “Speaking of life being funny sometimes, you guys will never guess who I saw again earlier this week.”
“Who?” asked Shoshana around a mouthful of steak fajitas.
“You know how crap I am with guessing games,” grumbled Casey. “I’m never, ever close to the right answer. So just tell us already.”
Jill took another swig of her margarita for courage before replying, already bracing herself for her friends’ reaction. “It’s Max,” she replied rather meekly. “Max Wainwright. You know, the guy I knew in Seattle who - ”
“Who used you, tossed you aside when he decided it was time to call it quits, and broke your fucking heart in the process?” asked Shoshana incredulously. “Jill, you swore to me up and down when you decided to take the job in San Francisco that you’d go out of your way to avoid that bastard. So why in hell - ”
“We ran into each other by chance, Sho,” interrupted Jill. “Honestly. In the almost two years I’ve lived in the city I have never set foot in the Financial District where his office is located. I’ve even avoided any restaurants that seem like they’d be his style. My boss hired Max to evaluate the company before he makes a final decision about expansion. It was strictly a coincidence is all.”
“Or really shitty bad luck, depending on your perspective,” commented Casey. “Did the rat bastard know you worked there?”
“No. He admitted that he hadn’t done all of his usual preliminary research before taking the job since it seemed like such an easy assignment. In fact, the whole assessment will probably only take him a week, week and a half at most. So he was as surprised as I was on Monday when my boss introduced him to the team,” explained Jill somewhat nervously, well aware of Shoshana’s scowl being directed her way.
“Yeah, I’ll just bet he was,” muttered Shoshana darkly. “What else did the fucker have to say for himself?”
Jill gave a casual shrug, already regretting her decision to share the information with her friends. “Not a whole lot. We, um, had a glass of wine together after work on Monday to, er, let’s call it smooth over the awkwardness. We agreed to not talk about what happened in Seattle, get through this week, and not let it impact the work we had to get done.”
“You’ve had to work with him?” shrieked Casey. “Seriously, Jillie? How could you even stand being in the same building with him and not want to punch his lights out? After the way he treated you, and how upset you were for months after he up and left.”
“Of course I’ve had to work with him,” replied Jill patiently. “I’m the company’s Chief Financial Officer, after all, and if the purpose of hiring Max is to review our finances then it stands to reason he’d have to spend time with me going over stuff.”
“How much time?” demanded Shoshana. “And why did you wait until now to tell me about this?”
Jill rolled her eyes at her friend’s seriously overprotective attitude. “Really, Sho? Today is only Thursday, you know, and Max’s first day at the office was on Monday. And it’s not a big deal, honestly. I spent most of the day with him yesterday, and a few hours this morning. That’s probably going to be the extent of it, I’m guessing.”
“Not a big deal?” Shoshana’s eyes were practically bulging out of their sockets. “Sweetie, do we need to remind you what a total wreck you were after that asshole walked out? You barely ate, barely slept, hardly ever smiled, and walked around like a ghost for months. There were a few times Casey and I considered shoving you into the car, telling you we were going to the movies, but taking you to see a therapist instead.”
“More than a few times,” chimed in Casey as she bit into her burrito. “Like, twice a week at least. Though Tam’s idea was actually less extreme. She was positive she could convince one of her professors to write a prescription for an anti-depressant, and then we’d just slip it into your coffee or something.”
Jill wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Thank God you were able to talk her out of it.”
“We weren’t,” replied Shoshana matter-of-factly. “She actually got the prescription and had it filled, believe it or not. But in the end Case and I were too chicken to actually give you the pills. We ended up flushing them down the toilet when we moved out.”
Jill stared at her friends in disbelief. “You two were seriously going to drug me? Without my consent?”
Casey drained her margarita glass before pouring herself another drink from the pitcher they had ordered. “Well, frankly, sweetie, we were getting damned tired of seeing you mope around the house every day. We had to do something. Fortunately you started showing signs of life just in time. And I don’t know why you seem so pissed off about it. We would have only done it as a last resort, Jillie.”
“Well, I’m glad it didn’t come to that,” retorted Jill. “You two should have known better. I told you about my mother, after all, that she was an addict. And while I’m positive she used stuff a whole lot stronger than anti-depressants, I’m still totally anti-drug of any kind. You guys knew that, and would have gone against my wishes anyway.”
Shoshana reached over and gave her a hug. “We were really worried about you, Jill,” she admitted. “And were getting sort of desperate to snap you out of the funk you’d sunk into. I’m sorry for even thinking about something so dumb. But please, please don’t give us reason to worry that you’re going to get depressed all over again. The minute you saw that bastard in your office you should have walked out the door. Or at least refused to give him the time of day.”
Jill threw up her hands in frustration. “And just what kind of excuse was I supposed to give my boss for that sort of reaction? You know, I’m sorry I even mentioned his name to you guys. Can we just forget that I did and move on?”
“Hah!” scoffed Shoshana. “As if we’re just going to ignore a bombshell like that!”
“At the very least you need to tell us what his reaction was,” insisted Casey. “Well, that and if the bloke still looks as yummy as he did four years ago.”
Jill sighed as she admitted reluctantly, “Yummier. He hasn’t aged a bit, not even a single gray hair, or the teeniest hint of flab anywhere on his body. Not,” she added hastily, “that I’ve spent a lot of time checking him out. Just assuming from outward appearances is all.”
Casey winked at her slyly. “Of course. It’s been all business, hasn’t it, Jillie? Just hours spent talking about boring old financial stuff, whatever it is exactly that you do for a living. Not a single referral to Seattle, hmm?”
Jill’s cheeks flushed in reaction. “Just that first time, like I told you. And even then we mostly talked about business. He - he seems really, well, sorry for what he did, I guess you’d say. He even apologized, told me he regretted what he’d done.”
That was as much as she was willing to confess to her friends, no matter how close they might be to her. The other, far more personal things Max had told her outside of the wine bar, how leaving her had been the single biggest regret of his life - well, that wasn’t something she was prepared to repeat to anyone. She’d been startled - no, more like shocked - to hear those words on his lips, to see the sorrow in his eyes, and hear the anguished tone of his voice. She had been tempted, oh, so tempted, to send the Uber on its way, slide into Max’s taxi, and demand that he expound further on what he had just told her.
But she’d lost her nerve, too afraid to probe further into his telling statement, and terrified that she was only setting herself up to hav
e her heart broken again. When she’d seen Max at the office the next day, he had acted as though nothing had happened, had been as polite and professional as ever.
Every minute she’d had to spend with him, though, had been pure torture for her. She had made sure to keep a respectable distance between them when they had worked together, with Max giving her a knowing little smile when she’d declined his offer to pull up a chair next to his. But a distance of a few feet wasn’t nearly enough to prevent her from reacting to the sound of his voice - that deep, precise British accent that still made her feel like swooning. Or to stop the little shimmers of awareness that rippled up and down her spine whenever she caught a whiff of that slightly spicy masculine scent of his, that same combination of soap, aftershave, and warm male skin that had never failed to intoxicate her.
But as difficult as it had been to keep things strictly business between them, Jill had stubbornly persisted in doing just that. Not for the world would she allow herself to succumb to the lethal charm of Max Wainwright ever again. Been there, done that, she’d reminded herself, and barely survived the aftermath. She was older, wiser, more sophisticated, and had finally gotten over him, had learned her lesson well. Not to mention the fact that she was in love with a wonderful man, a man who would never in a million years hurt her the way Max had done. Tyler was so easy to be with, to talk to, and she adored spending time with his big, often rowdy family who’d made her feel like one of them since the first time Tyler had brought her to his parents’ house.
And if she’d never once experienced quite the same physical reactions around Tyler as she continued to feel when Max was near - well, that was just her stupid hormones or something, she’d reasoned. There was a whole lot more to love and relationships than just the physical stuff, the sex. Tyler was an open book when it came to discussing his feelings, or about sharing his life stories and experiences. She still knew next to nothing about Max, and had reluctantly accepted the fact that he would likely never be the sort of man who found it easy to talk about such things.
The One Real Regret Page 32
