by Nancy Toback
“Right. It’ll be good for my—”
“Career?” Her voice was flat. Fiddling with the chain on her purse, her gaze lowered, her dark lashes hid her eyes from him. “How long have you known?”
Tom raked his fingers through his hair and shrugged. “I got the memo a couple of weeks back.”
“And did you have to take it?” Her gaze snapped to his. A glint of anger seemed to flash in her eyes. “Didn’t they give you a choice?”
“I had the option of staying here.” But this is killing me. “I thought of all the reasons not to go, like—”
“Like inheriting your parents’ rent-controlled apartment? Now there’s a rare commodity in Manhattan.”
Tom nodded. “That was one incentive.” He drew another long breath. “But you were my biggest incentive to stay.” And to go.
“Me?” Jess pointed to herself, eyes wide with mock surprise. “Your mathematical mind really factored me in?”
“Is that sarcasm?” Tom snorted a mild laugh. “For your information, our sixteen-year friendship did weigh heavily on my mind.” If only she knew how heavily.
“And you concluded you can actually live without me?” Jess straightened her shoulders and batted her lashes, feigning indignation. “Where are you going?”
Tom brushed back a windblown strand of hair from her cheek. At least he’d leave guilt-free. Her reaction, though shocking, told him he was a lot more dispensable to her than he cared to admit. “San Diego.”
“That far?” Jess nodded slowly. “Well, now you can finally go sailing. Remember the—”
“Boat I gave you? Yeah, I remember.” Tom stood and extended his hand to her. Jess reached out, lacing her fingers with his, and got to her feet. He cleared his throat. “I’ll be here for a couple more weeks. We’ll plan a trip to Atlantic Beach maybe. What do you say?”
“Sure, that would be great.” With her face raised to his, her sweet breath feathered his mouth. He stifled his impulse to plant one long, lingering kiss on her lips and cupped his hands loosely around her wrists.
Jess gave a shaky smile, which disappeared quickly. “I have to tell you something.” Not a hint of playfulness remained in her voice. “But I don’t know if this is bad timing—or what.”
With his gaze still fastened on hers, Tom squared his shoulders. “Do you want to pray on it first?” Struck again by the same feeling that had hit him in the truck, his heart slammed against his ribs. He tightened his hands around her wrists, shoving away hope, yet still hoping. He had stood in this place too many times—waiting for a cue from Jess—a phrase, a look, a smile, anything to hang his heart onto.
“I–I don’t think I need to pray on this.”
Slipping his hands up her arms, he drew her closer. “Then tell me, Jess.” He gave her a mild shake. “I thought we could tell each other anything.”
A pang of guilt hit. Anything—except what he’d been carrying around in his heart all these years.
Sixteen
Tom’s steady gaze burned a wildfire through her. She had to tell him now. The thickness in her throat threatened to cut off her air. What would he think? After all these years as friends, Tom says he’s moving and suddenly she says, “I love you”? He might see it as her last-ditch effort to hang onto him.
A tremor started in the pit of her stomach, rattling every nerve ending in her body. “Tom—” Jess closed her eyes, opened them. “It’s what I–I was going to tell you in the truck.”
Tom put more pressure on her arms, sending heat through her skin. “I’m listening, Jess.”
“But you have to promise”—reaching up, she rested both her hands atop his solid shoulders—“you won’t laugh.”
A strand of brown hair fell forward on his forehead. His brows pulled together, emphasizing his dark eyes. The words stuck at the back of her throat. “I’m not laughing, Jess.”
“I know. I know you’re not.” She drew a shaky breath. “Tom. . .what if I’ve. . .well, what if I’ve fallen in love. . .with you?”
Tom’s gaze flashed from her eyes to her lips, making her heart drum harder. Jess lowered her lids, her eyes burning as she fought a tide of emotions, waiting for his response. Waiting. . .
She felt the pressure of Tom’s fingers under her chin as he raised her face to his. “This isn’t one of our guessing games? Is it, Jess?” Tom’s brown-sugar gaze moved over her face slowly, melting her heart.
Her pulse sped up so quickly that she thought she might faint—or die—but she froze. “Do you want it to be? A guessing game?”
A solemn shadow passed over his eyes.
Jess felt herself trembling. “No—no, it’s not a guessing game.”
A hint of a smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Are you saying you’re in love with me, Jess?”
Heat crawled up her neck, shooting into her cheeks, setting her aflame with embarrassment. But it was now or never. Tom was leaving. “Yes, that’s what I’m—”
Her last word was swallowed in his kiss. Drinking in the warmth of his long-awaited kiss, Jess sank into his embrace, clutching his jacket. She’d always belonged in his arms.
“I’ll stay, Jess.” Tom’s soft lips brushed against hers as he spoke. Raising his mouth from hers, he gazed into her eyes. “I only wanted to go to California to get—”
“Wait!” A dizzying current ran through her. Jess stiffened; her breaths came faster. She pressed her palms flat against his solid chest, putting distance between them. Oh, but it couldn’t be true. Surely she was mistaken. Tom would never deceive her. Words tumbled through her head—California. . .TC. . .West Coast. . . . The horrid flashes of memory sucked the strength from her legs. “Tom, am I paranoid, or—” Please, Lord, let me be mistaken. He’d never trick me, never make a fool of me.
“What?” Frowning, Tom shook his head. “What is—”
“You don’t, by any chance, use the handle TCTwo on—”
“Oh, I, um. . .” Tom nodded.
Jess gasped and broke free of his embrace. Her spine snapped straight.
“Jess.” Tom raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Please don’t get upset. I can explain—”
“Oh, no—no.” She felt the color siphon from her face. “You wouldn’t. You didn’t.” She spun, half walking, half running to the park’s exit, leaving her dignity behind.
Jess heard his footsteps behind her. Tom closed the gap between them quickly and grasped her arm. “Jess, it was a mistake. I wrote—”
Wresting her arm free from his grip, she twisted and glared at him. “Are you going to lie to me again? I told you my handle was Loves God.” Licking her lips, she still tasted his kiss. The lingering warmth sent an ache to her heart. “You manipulated me, pretending to be my friend.” She pushed her wayward hair from her face, turned, and scanned the avenue for a taxi. “You pretended to be my friend in E-mail and”—she waved her hands, hailing the cab—“and in person.”
Tom slipped in front of her and took hold of her wrist. “Will you give me a chance to explain? Please, Jess, I—”
She drew back her hand, panting now. “Don’t say another word. Don’t!” Her lip trembled. What had she written in those E-mails? Forcing the memory made her stomach churn. How could he? The one man she’d trusted other than her father.
Jess opened the car door, dove into the waiting cab, and slammed it shut. She looked straight ahead, ignoring Tom standing at the curb, and sputtered her address to the cab driver.
Jess gritted her teeth as the car sped off. The day Tom left New York wouldn’t come soon enough.
❧
Tom scanned the financials Frank dropped in front of him. His eyes read figures, but his mind registered nothing. “I’ll have to look these over later.” He snapped the folder shut and tossed it on the desk.
“Come on—let’s have it.” Frank dropped into the chair in front of his desk.
Tom lifted his gaze to him, studying his relaxed pose, as his blood pumped hot lava through his veins. Frank couldn’t possibly po
ssess the unmitigated gall to expect a tell-all. “How’d your week’s vacation go?”
Frank studied his fingernails for a second, looked up, and smiled. “Great. Fantastic.” Leaning back in his chair, he ran his hand down his tie. “I saw Jess a couple of times.” A smug grin curled his lips. “I’m telling you—I feel so much better since she and I had a heart-to-heart.”
Tom stood and scrubbed his hand across his jaw. “Is that right?” Gritting his teeth, he shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Definitely.” Smiling, Frank nodded slowly.
Hardly breathing, his gaze met the bold challenge in Frank’s eyes. The guy was pushing for a conversation about Jess. But he wouldn’t give him one—give him the opportunity to gloat.
“I’m transferring to California.” Tom scanned the office he’d worn like a home away from home for the past eight years. He’d miss it, but—
“Whoa.” Frank raised his hands in a familiar gesture that usually made him laugh. But since last week, nothing brought a smile to his face. A solid week and a day, and his phone messages to Jess had gone unanswered. He wasn’t about to walk into Flavors and risk a scene at her place of work. “Anyway, I recommended you to Elliot for the promotion. Not that you’re qualified, but you always liked the view in here.”
Frank gave him a half-smile. “You know you’re running, right?”
Tom snorted a laugh. “Nah, there’s nothing to run from anymore.” He shrugged, sat down, and opened the folder. “I’d better get started on these before I have no job.”
“Which office are you transferring to?”
“Didn’t Jess tell you?” Tom cleared his throat. Of course, he wouldn’t be the topic of discussion at their little powwows. He had lived a whole minute believing Jess was in love with him. But she had easily fallen out of love with him. Not real love, Jess. “San Diego.”
“Man.” Looking down, he wagged his head. And for a second he thought he read disappointment in Frank’s demeanor. But his discernment left quite a bit to be desired.
“How long before you leave?”
Tom rocked back in his chair. “A couple of weeks. Mid-June maybe.”
“Much as I love the view in this office,” Frank stood abruptly and puffed out a breath, “and I thank you for your recommendation, by the way, I don’t want to see you go, Buddy.”
Tom tapped his fingers on the desktop. “Do me a favor. If you—when you see, Jess—” He pulled in a breath. Just the right man to deliver the message. “Never mind. I’ve got to look at these now.” He flipped open the folder, dismissing Frank with the motion. Mercifully, his coworker took the cue and strode across the room.
He waited until he heard the snap of the door behind Frank, then grabbed the phone. He had two things to accomplish—a request that Elliot get him out of New York as soon as possible—and an apology to Jess.
Tom punched his boss’s extension. There was enough in Jess’s background to give her reason to distrust, but he’d not be another cog in the wheel of suspicion, pushing her to be even more wary.
If Jess continued to ignore his calls, there was always E-mail or a letter. But in either case she could delete it or tear it to shreds.
One way or another, he had to speak to her once more, face-to-face. And then he would go.
❧
Jess looked down at her battle-scarred hands. Three cuts and two burns in ten days. That had to be a record. She slanted a glance at Juan, who was dusting flour off his hands. “You’ve been such a big help this week.”
“Nah, nothing. What about the bad weeks I had—when Maria left? You did triple duty to cover for me.” He winked. “Juan doesn’t forget.”
Jess managed a smile. “I’m not judging, Juan, but how could Maria have left you?” She hung the last pan on the hook above the stove and untied her apron.
“It’s not her fault. I took Maria for granted.” Juan swiped his heavy key chain off the counter and shook his head. “Some of us don’t know what we have till we lose it.”
A pang of sadness jabbed her heart. “Well, I’m just sorry you two lost each other.” Jess shrugged. There were no answers. Only questions. “You two seemed perfect for one another.”
“Aha, like you and Tom,” Juan said before exiting the kitchen.
Jess snapped off the lights and followed him into the dining room. Juan didn’t understand all she’d been through. She had risked saying “I love you” to the one man on earth she trusted with her heart. “We’re not friends anymore, Juan.”
Jess stepped outside behind him, inhaling the rain-scented air, and closed and locked the door to Flavors.
“You were friends?” Juan’s tanned face broke into a smile. “You were never friends.” He took a few steps backward, saluted, and said, “Adios.”
Jess stared after him. She opened her mouth to call his name. Of course Tom had been her friend. Just because she’d caught Tom in a lie—an awful lie—it didn’t negate what they had before. Or did it? Perhaps this wasn’t the first time Tom had seen fit to pretend he was somebody he was not.
Jess walked slowly past the darkened storefronts. What was Juan insinuating with that comment? Had he seen or heard something more about Tom that she was unaware of? Not that it mattered. One lie was one too many.
Turning the corner, Jess shuddered in midstep as she nearly crashed into Frank.
Seventeen
Tom zipped his suitcase, hefted it off the bed, and carried it into the living room. He dropped the bag on the floor beside the packed cartons of his other worldly possessions and groaned.
Too bad Elliot hadn’t agreed to let him leave for the West Coast earlier. It would’ve given him a valid excuse not to attend Corinne’s wedding. Much as he was happy for Rick and Corinne, he’d be forced to see Jess tomorrow, something he’d realized wasn’t best.
Cupping his hand to the back of his aching neck, he shook his head. Jess would avoid him like the plague at the reception. But by now Corinne might know the score and see the wisdom of not seating them together—he hoped.
Tom strode into the kitchen, grabbed a can of iced tea from the refrigerator and sat at the table for a much-needed break. He gazed out the window, looking out onto the maze of steel skyscrapers that was Manhattan. He shouldn’t miss the mayhem of the concrete jungle—but he would. And he’d miss Jess. But his heart had hit rock bottom. He could only go up from there.
Days ago he’d decided to stop phoning Jess, stop leaving messages of apology. It was hopeless, he knew. She wouldn’t forgive him. Not because he’d committed the unforgivable sin, but because she’d allowed herself to cross a dangerous commitment line, and she needed to step back, run away. He could do nothing more. Only the Lord could change her heart.
And yet Jess trusted Frank enough to continue seeing him. Tom drummed his fingers on the tabletop. His colleague enjoyed rubbing that fact in his face. According to Jess’s E-mail, she feared he wanted to deck Frank when he’d seen them together in Flavors. She should’ve seen him yesterday, his fists clenched and his desire full-blown.
Tom sighed. Since when did the wrath of man produce the righteousness of God? Would decking Frank bring Jess to her senses? No, his relationship with the Lord was far more important than satisfying his fleshly desires.
He shook his head, switched his gaze to the laptop, and hit the key to close the financial document he’d been working on this morning. Maybe he’d write one last E-mail to Jess. If he changed his mind about sending it, there was always the DELETE button.
Tom typed in his password. This time he would use his real identity, though the chances of Jess actually opening and reading his message were minuscule. “Give me the words, Lord.”
Dear Jess,
I’m writing this even knowing you’ll probably never read it. I’m sorry you’ve chosen to ignore my phone messages and sorrier that you’ve chosen not to forgive me.
I realize you had it tough growing up without a mom and that you struggle with trust issues. Again, I’m w
ithout excuse for having deceived you in E-mail. (I did, however, use my real initials. My middle name is Christopher, same as my dad’s, though you wouldn’t know that since I’d never before used it.) But, Jess, please know my motives were pure. I don’t want to go off to California feeling I’ve added to your burden in any way.
The first time I e-mailed Loves God, I had no idea it was you. Do you remember, Jess? You gave me your handle after the fact. I realize that doesn’t absolve me from what took place once you told me you were Loves God, but at least try to understand my motive. You sounded down, and I only wanted to help.
There is one thing I’ve kept hidden from you for the past sixteen years. You accused me of lying with regard to the “TC” situation, and if the omission of truth constitutes a lie, I’m afraid I stand accused. And here it is, Jess.
I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you. Something happened to my heart that first day of class in junior year. (If this sounds pathetic to you, imagine me, carrying this around for so long, trying to deny it.) I knew right then and there you were the only one for me. But I’ve finally tossed all my defense mechanisms into the trash. And that’s what makes it okay for me to stay single. The Lord knows it, I know it, and if you bother to read this, you’ll know it too.
That’s all the truth I have to tell. Except when you said in the park, “What if I’ve fallen in love with you?” I was about to ask you to marry me. I love you. I doubt there’ll come a day when I stop loving you. Even Linda saw it that day in Flavors when you were with Jim. I guess Linda read it on my face, like so many others have—yet you’ve been blind to it all these years. In retrospect, I realize I needed to hide behind TC to find the courage to tell you.
I know what you think of me, Jess, but please don’t allow my behavior to color your future. You have a great future. God’s plans for you are good. You’ll have a husband, and children, and even a white-picket fence, because you deserve those things. I guess you were right about me. I had it easy growing up. My parents thought I was God’s gift to humankind, and my sisters—need I say more? So I don’t know what it’s like to have been abandoned by a parent, but losing you has taught me a lot. I’ll never again waste time worrying about my ego—too afraid to say what’s on my heart for fear of the other person’s response.
