Love Online (Truly Yours Digital Editions)

by Nancy Toback

  I’m in my early thirties, live in Manhattan, and, like you, my career keeps me too busy to socialize on a regular basis. I haven’t posted my photo and probably won’t, but I’m slender, tall, have dark hair and blue eyes. (If you’re thinking Liz Hurley, think again, but I’m attractive on a different level.)

  Tom leaned back in his chair and caught his breath. She could’ve been describing Jess. Shaking his head, he groaned. “None of that stuff.” As Frank said, “Get over it already!” He refocused on the remainder of her message.

  More important than looks, hobbies, career, etc., I want to meet a man who loves the Lord and puts Him first in his life. If you’re still interested in communicating, I’d like to hear from you.

  Sincerely, L

  Raising his brows, Tom pressed the REPLY button. “Okay, Lab-seven-eleven. . .” Her interests and priorities were definitely similar to his. Why not?

  Tom crossed his arms while composing a reply in his head, then set his fingers to the keyboard. He didn’t have to meet her face-to-face until, and unless, he felt ready, but the sooner he started his journey in a new direction, the better.

  At the shrill of the phone, Tom glanced up at the clock and decided to let the machine get it. Instead of the hang-up from a telemarketer he’d anticipated, he heard Heather Webster’s soft voice. He stood, went to the living room, and approached the voice machine hesitantly.

  “I know it’s Saturday,” Heather uttered apologetically, “but I’d love it if you could take some time this afternoon to meet with me before I leave town. I need clarity on the finer points of the financial analysis you did for us, and—”

  Tom rubbed his hand across his jaw. Pick up? She’s a client. She needs help. He expelled a breath and grabbed the cordless. “Hello, Heather.”

  “Wonderful! I caught you in!”

  Where else would he be at eight in the morning on his day off? “Yeah, I was planning on a jog in the park, but afterward we can—”

  “Sounds tempting. Mind if I join you?”

  “On my jog?” Tom cupped his hand to the back of his neck. Business and pleasure were usually a sour mix. He cleared his throat. “I thought you wanted me to look over the reports.”

  “I do, but I can afford to work off a few extra pounds before we get to it.” Heather laughed. “Plus I need your signature on something. It’s sort of a recommendation. Long story.”

  Tom smiled. If only Jess heard the overweight comment coming from rail-thin Heather, she’d say, “She’s fishing for compliments.” Much as he wanted to give her one, he thought better of baiting his client. “I’m leaving in about fifteen minutes.” That should discourage her.

  “Sounds good. I’m staying at the Beverly, a couple of blocks from you if I’m reading your business card correctly.”

  Great! Tom dragged his hand through his hair. No polite way to squirm out of it. “I’ll be waiting downstairs then.”

  After hanging up, he went to the kitchen and snapped off the computer. Out of necessity, his new life would have to be put on hold for awhile longer.

  ❧

  “Get your feet off that sofa right now!” Marilyn sprinted around the wooden coffee table while her three year old skillfully dodged her grasping hand.

  Jess pressed her fingers to her lips to hide her grin from the precocious toddler. “It’s an old sofa, Marilyn. Don’t worry about it.”

  “He has to learn to listen,” she said between gasps. With her curly blond hair popping loose from her ponytail holder, Marilyn scooped her chubby son under one arm and dropped to the sofa. “On my lap, Mister, till you learn to behave.” She puffed out a breath. “So what’s that you were saying about your biological clock?”

  Jess laughed. “What a workout.” Sitting in the armchair across from her closest female friend, she tucked her legs under her and smiled at Nathan—red-faced and squirming his protest. “I was saying I never wanted marriage and children more than I do right now.”

  Brushing her fingers through Nathan’s dark hair, Marilyn rocked him into a slightly calmer state. “You really did it, huh?” She shook her head, her curls bobbing. “I’d never figure you for online dating. You’re the one who always had men chasing after you goo-goo eyed.”

  Jess waved her hand. “That means nothing—you know that. Unfortunately, no one I want to catch me ever chases me.”

  “Don’t be so hasty, Girl.” Marilyn eased Nathan off her lap and onto the sofa and continued stroking his hair. “Oh, please take a nap. That’ll be two down.” Her big brown eyes motioned toward her younger son, Paul, curled up on a blanket on the carpet, his thumb working in his mouth. “You had options, Jess. You always had options.”

  “Not with my dad.” Jess laughed, but a familiar stab of mixed emotion accompanied the mention of her father. “I loved Daddy so much, but I’ll always wonder what he was trying to protect me from. Some of his advice made me scared to walk out the door in the morning.”

  “Double duty.” Marilyn tilted her head thoughtfully. “I saw it a lot when I was teaching. One parent struggling to be both. Without your mother around—”

  Jess gave a mild snort. “What mother? Unless you count the fact that she gave birth to me.” She shrugged. There was no sense living in the land of regrets. “Anyway, you had options too.”

  Marilyn smirked. “Let’s put it this way: I never had a friend like Tom Winters squiring me around town.”

  Jess shook her head. “You know Tom and I are friends. For real, just friends.”

  Marilyn rolled her gaze heavenward. “If you say so.”

  “Okay, you’ve managed to do it again.” Jess folded her arms. “You’re making me feel guilty—as if I’m hiding something, and I’m not.”

  “That’s good news,” she shot back too cheerfully. “Just friends means it won’t phase you in the least when you see Tom with another woman, right?”

  Jess fluffed her long hair and switched her gaze to the living room window. “You mean jealousy?” What was that ugly twinge she felt when she saw Heather Webster sitting beside Tom, her eyes flashing interest? “I have no right to be jealous. I’ll be happy for Tom when he meets the right woman. As long as he chooses well. That’s part of my job as his friend, to protect him, you know.” She gave Marilyn a sideways glance, preferring not to meet her doubtful grin head-on. “Why doesn’t anybody get it that men and women can be friends?”

  Marilyn lifted her hands in surrender. “Okay, I confess—I don’t get it.” She leaned back against the cushions, grabbed a pillow, and hugged it to her. “You guys spend every free waking moment together—go to movies, dinner, even grab lunch when you can squeeze it in. You sit side-by-side in church like all the married couples. And, worst of all, you laugh at each other’s stupid jokes—humor nobody else understands.”

  “Oh, come on!” Jess tried, unsuccessfully, to restrain a smile. “Tom is funny, isn’t he?”

  “There!” Marilyn pointed an accusing finger. “See! You can’t even talk about him without your face lighting up.”

  “Oh, please.” Jess got to her feet. “I’ll get us some tea.” She started toward the kitchen. “I made chocolate mousse,” she said with her back to her friend.

  “Yeah, that’s right. Ignore me.”

  Standing at the counter and grateful to be out from under Marilyn’s probing gaze, she tried to untangle fact from fiction. She loved Tom. No doubt about it. But that didn’t mean they should be setting a marriage date. Not that Tom had ever asked. And not that she’d say yes. Crazy! Love and in love were two entirely different emotions.

  Jess took the dessert bowls from the refrigerator. Marilyn had a way of making her question her own reality. She’d do well to keep in mind that her dear friend had a flair for the dramatic at times. “Are you watching your waistline again?” she called, whipped cream canister poised over the dessert.

  “No, I’m pregnant.”

  Very funny. Paul wasn’t even walking yet. Jess squirted cream on the mousse, set the sugar bow
l, spoons, teacups, and napkins on the tray, and carried it out into the living room. “Pregnant.” She placed the serving tray on the oval table. “You’re a regular comedienne today.”

  “What?” Staring, straight-faced, Marilyn picked up a bowl and spoon. “I’m pregnant. I’m not kidding.”

  Jess dropped to the carpet and scooted closer to the coffee table. She fought back the despair tearing at her heart. Not only was she always the bridesmaid, but she was also always the aunt. Never the mother. Was there anyone for her? “Congratulations. That’s great. It really is.”

  “I’m sorry.” Sliding to the edge of the sofa, Marilyn dipped the spoon into the mousse. “This looks positively sinful.”

  “Sorry? For what?” Jess took a sip of tea. Her friend could read her too well. She should know better than to try to fool Marilyn—or Tom.

  “Delicious.” Marilyn closed her eyes and licked her lips.

  “I’m thrilled for you. It’s just that a ridiculous thought struck me. I’ll never catch up now.” Jess laughed. “Talk about putting the horse before the cart.”

  “If you haven’t met Mr. Right already, you will.”

  Spooning the dessert into her mouth, she chose not to acknowledge Marilyn’s not-so-veiled reference to Tom. “Why don’t we go for a walk in Central Park when we’re through? Maybe stop by the zoo with the kids?”

  “Great idea.” Marilyn averted her gaze to Nathan’s sleeping form. “I miss Keith when he goes off to these conferences.”

  “Not easy being a minister’s wife, I guess. But God sure is blessing you for the sacrifices you make. Look at these gorgeous kids.” Her life, by comparison, seemed empty and shallow. “And to think—it all started with dating online.”

  Scraping the bottom of the dessert bowl, Marilyn’s eyes widened. “Uh-uh! Surely you’ve forgotten my Twilight Zone experiences before I met Keith!”

  “Well, there were a few rotten apples in the bunch, but—”

  “What? A few?” Marilyn set aside her cup and wriggled her fingers. “Eight in a row!”

  Jess bit her lip. She’d made the decision to quit at five. Five online disaster dates and she’d throw in the towel. “Yes, I do remember now. There was the guy who took you to the expensive restaurant, didn’t let you know till the check came that—”

  “I had to pay my own way,” Marilyn said nodding. “His last name was Singer—just in case he’s still out there. You’ll want to avoid him like the plague.”

  “I’ll say.” Memories of Marilyn’s ordeals tumbled through her mind. “What about the guy who asked you what he should do about his stinky feet problem?” Jess shuddered.

  Marilyn laughed so loud that Nathan jumped. “Yeah, and he went into so much detail that”—her shoulders shook with laughter—“I lost my appetite.” Wiping a tear from her eye, she held up her hand and took a breath. “I’m going to have to pray none of this happens to you, dear friend. You’re such a delicate flower compared to me.”

  “I need all the prayer I can get.” Jess hastened to her feet, leaving but a spoonful of her dessert untouched. She’d never been sensitive, but lately. . . “I’ll clean up, and then we’ll get going.”

  “I bet it’s my fault”—Marilyn stood and stretched—“that you missed your jog in the park with Tom this morning.”

  “Actually, Tom didn’t call to ask.” Jess glanced at her watch. “It’s almost ten, and he leaves early. It’s not your fault in any case.” She turned and padded into the kitchen.

  She had made a point of trying to convince Marilyn that she and Tom were just friends, but the tumult in her heart told her she missed Tom more than any friend should. Rinsing the dishes, Jess turned at the sound of approaching footsteps.

  “Are you sure you’re up to running around Central Park with two screaming kids?” Marilyn’s eyes narrowed. “Or are you just feeling sorry for me?”

  Jess laughed. “Aren’t you the pitiful one?” She shook her head. “Believe it or not, I want to go to the Central Park Zoo with two screaming kids.”

  And if Tom happened to be there, all the better. She wouldn’t mind a bit the sight of the easy smile she’d come to depend on whenever she saw him.

  Though despite Marilyn’s inferences, a dating relationship would destroy their solid-like-a-rock friendship. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t witnessed the carnage of other male-female friendships gone down the tubes in the name of love.

  Jess dried her hands on the dish towel. She could never afford to lose Tom as a friend. In reality, Tom was the only family she had left. But why was he avoiding her?

  Four

  Tom rounded the curve toward the finish line, his Nikes flapping hard against the pavement. He decelerated slowly, leaned forward, and clasped his hands to his knees. So much for showing off to keep pace with stick-thin, fresh-out-of-grad-school Heather. Straightening, he took a deep breath.

  Heather fake-punched him in the arm. “That was quite a workout.” Jogging in place with her hands on her hips, she laughed. Barely a drop of sweat tarnished the smooth terrain of her forehead.

  Tom uncapped his water bottle. Quite a workout. Half the speed and distance would’ve sent him and Jessica slumping to the grass in a heap. After glugging a long drink of water, he scanned the busy park.

  In-line skaters sped in impatient zigzags around leisurely strolling pedestrians. A smile tugged at his mouth. He and Jess liked to make a game of guessing which were tourists and which couples were dating or married. He could just hear Jess’s comments about Heather and her perfectly coordinated running outfit. He stifled a grin and pushed the thought aside.

  “I’m going back to my place.” Tom grabbed the corners of the towel around his neck and swabbed his face. He glanced at his watch. “How about we meet up in an hour?”

  Heather’s lips twitched in an expression between wounded and determined. “I thought we could get right to it.”

  Tom nodded. If only he had a clue what she was talking about. He dropped to the park bench, his rapid pulse reminding him of the perils of chasing a twenty-something around the park. He made a mental note to add a comment to his Love Online profile: Only fast walkers need apply.

  Heather tilted her blond head. “Well?”

  Apparently there was a correct response, but he’d forgotten the question. “What do you want to do?” Pulling in another breath, he rested his elbows on his thighs and studied the black tar path. “That was quite a workout.”

  Heather propped herself beside him, crossed her bare legs, and swung her pink-and-white–sneakered foot back and forth. Wearing white shorts and a sleeveless tennis blouse, she appeared oddly underdressed, considering the snappy north wind coming off the river. But enough with the cynicism—and the comparisons.

  “I thought we’d grab brunch in the park.” Heather poked her face into his line of vision. “I don’t have to go back to the hotel for the paperwork. Everything I want to discuss with you is in here.” She pointed her pink manicured nail to her head.

  No doubt Heather’s mind rivaled her quick sprint, or she wouldn’t be representing Goldman Enterprises. He touched his back pocket. Good thing he had the foresight to carry his wallet. “What are you in the mood to eat?”

  She smoothed her hand over her flat stomach. “Nothing fattening.” A small worry line formed between her brows, creasing her flawless skin. “You’re looking sort of flushed.”

  “Am I?” Tom’s pulse kicked up. No, he wouldn’t indulge in a bout of hypochondria and lose a potential multimillion-dollar account. “I’m great.” He got to his feet, if only to prove he could.

  Heather sprang up, then looped her arm through his. Before he could conjure up a polite way to extricate himself from her iron grip, they were walking arm-in-arm. “There’s a café in the park. We could sit outside.” Tom slipped his hands into the pockets of his black jogging pants. Instead of loosening her grip, Heather moved in closer, then coquettishly pulled away a bit.

  He had to admit she was charming. If only hi
s mind—and his heart—would let go of Jess. There had to be something wrong with a man who wanted to play hero to a woman who looked beyond him to find a husband.

  “Sounds good then,” Heather said, lifting her smiling face up to his. “I’m loving New York. This is my second time here, but the first was strictly business.”

  This is too, Tom wanted to counter. Somehow he’d gotten roped into this situation this morning, but even pretty Heather couldn’t change his mind about mixing business with pleasure.

  “I think you should know”—Heather bit her lip, arching her brows—“I’m considering moving to New York.”

  “Why?” Tom smiled in an effort to cover the disappointment in his voice. “I mean, I thought you loved Boston. Why New York?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe it’s the energy here.” Heather looked skyward. “Even the traffic, the noises, all the craziness.” Squeezing his arm, she laughed. “And the people. Thanks to you, I had an unforgettable week.”

  “You’re welcome, but—” The entertainment came with his job description. Any savvy businesswoman should know that. “What about your career at Goldman?” Passing the frankfurter stand, Tom’s stomach grumbled at the scent of boiling hot dogs wafting on the air. He acknowledged the vendor with a wave. “Hey, Chuck.”

  “Two with sauerkraut?” Chuck’s gaze darted to Heather, but the ex-Vietnam vet had been around the park too long to let his face give away any questions. He had to be wondering what happened to “Sunshine”—his pet name for Jess.

  “No, not today,” Tom said, feeling his companion straining at his side. He gave her a sidelong glance and headed toward the café, the burden of what to do with Heather growing with every step.

  “I called my boss last night, and this is the part I was telling you about on the phone. He wants to open a New York office. He’ll let me head the place, as long as I get a couple of our big clients to give me their seal of approval.”