“Can I help you two?” a short man asked. He peered over the bed curiously as if he didn’t understand why we were there.
“Yeah,” James said, swinging his legs over the side to sit up right. “We’ll take this bedroom set.” The clerk’s face changed from impatient to pleasant. I guess money talks.
That night, James and I sprawled out across my ivory nail button upholstered bed. A favorite place of mine. It was sad that in the coming weeks I’d have to give up my queen size Tempur-Pedic for a king-size-who-knows.
“I need to go to sleep,” I told James as he lay behind me, stroking my shoulder.
“But you look so cute,” he grabbed me and sucked me into his embrace, my limbs tangled up with his. I wanted it to be the kind of tangle that turned into a one of those impossible to get out knots, like a chain that lays in the bottom of a jewelry box and slowly, over time clusters into a little ball of gold. “Do you have to leave tomorrow?” He kissed the back of my neck, the warmth of his breath tickled my neck.
“Yes, I’ve been looking forward to it all year,” I said.
“I know, you’re right. I’m just gonna miss you,” he said, loosening his grip. I turned to face him.
“I’ll miss you too,” I said, lying on my side as we looked at each other with one eye showing, the other buried in our pillows. “Now, go to sleep.” I smiled and shut my eyes.
“Okay,” he whispered. Moments later, he was out while I lay awake for a good hour, anxious about my morning flight.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Jack is Back
San Diego was one of my favorite cities and there were times that I wished I’d gone to grad school there versus bitter cold Boston. Palm trees and canyons grew larger as we landed on the tarmac. True, the conference didn’t start until the afternoon, but I wanted to get in some pool time considering that it was almost ten degrees warmer and I was missing the southern heat of Mexico.
On my way to the Hilton, I watched the passing palms that lined Harbor Island Park and the blue water that bordered it. The scent of the ocean filled the shuttle as we drove along. The moment I checked in, I declared it bathing suit time. After slathering my skin with the sweet smelling Hawaiian Tropic, I took my teeny-weeny black bikini to the pool. As much as I enjoyed the solitude of lounging in the sun with nothing but my iPod and a magazine, I missed James. For a moment, I imagined that he was lounging next to me in a sexy pair of swim shorts and sunglasses. A fresh memory from the weekend.
He was probably with a patient, but I called him anyway. Yep, voicemail.
“Hey, you,” I said. “I’m here, wish you were too. The weather is gorgeous. Maybe one day we can take highway one all the way here. Anyway, I’ll call you tonight after the dinner reception. I love you, hope you’re having a good day.”
After a couple hours in the sun, I was ready for a bite to eat. As I walked back through the hotel sporting flip-flops and a floral jersey dress with water spots over my breasts and around my hips, I saw him. Even after ten years, I’d recognize that right dimple anywhere. It was Jack.
Jack Ashbury, my med school boyfriend, and I dated for only a year. At the time, I was convinced he was the love of my life. Medical school wasn’t for me, so I ended up pursuing another field at a university on the opposite coast. He promised we could get through anything, including a long distance relationship, but he was wrong. A few months later, he admitted feelings for someone else. I was absolutely devastated. We hadn’t spoken since.
For years, I’d fantasized about running into him somewhere. He’d be slightly overweight, strapped with a few kids and a ditzy, over tanned wife who didn’t age as well as promised. I’d be fabulous looking of course, and he’d see me and regret the day he let me go. A day that he played over and over in his head and asked himself every day, what if?
My current scenario wasn’t in the least reminiscent of my ideal. No, in this scenario, his suit fit his sexy physique. His dark hair had grown out and curled behind his ears like a Hollywood heartthrob. Jack smiled with his perfect bleached teeth. God, that dimple was cute. My heart raced as I wiped the beads of sweat off my nose and tried to remember if I’d put on deodorant before going to the pool. I wanted so badly to run a brush through my hair, but I resisted the urge to touch it. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction if he knew anything about body language.
“Oh, my God, Marin, is it really you?” he asked in his unique brogue. While he spent his early childhood in England, he’d lived in the states since the age of twelve and his elegant accent became slightly more American.
I grinned as he gawked at me. Was he just as surprised? “Yeah, Jack, Hi.”
“It’s been ages,” he said, inviting me in for a hug.
“I just got back from the pool,” I said, demonstrating my wet clothes.
“Who cares,” he said, wrapping his arms around me. “You look amazing.”
I surrendered to his hug and inhaled his scent. It all came back to me, every second that I spent totally, hopelessly, crazy in love with the man. When he released me, I shrugged it off like a bad nostalgia trip.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, grinning with apparent wonder.
“Um, I’m here for a conference,” I said, and pushed loose hair behind my ear. Dammit, why couldn’t I stop touching my hair?
“Me too! Which one?”
“It’s a women’s health educational conference.”
“Oh, great. Is that why you were at the pool?” he asked, his hands on his hips. I shook my head and looked away shamefully. “I’m here for the Aesthetic Symposium.”
“Are you a derm now?” I asked.
“A cosmetic surgeon, but I do work with cosmetic dermatologists.” His chest welled with pride. Great, his chemically peeled skin hadn’t aged a day, while I was using department store cream under my eyes. I didn’t know why I used it, it didn’t make a difference.
“Don’t worry, I wore sunscreen,” I said with a nervous laugh, he nodded politely. Holy shit, I needed to get out of there. As if Jack was the slightest bit worried about the amount of sun exposure I got. “Anyway, I should get going.”
“Are you staying here?” he asked.
“Mmhmm,” I said.
“We should have dinner later.”
My mouth gapped for a moment too long. “Can’t. I’ve got this dinner reception thing as part of the conference.”
“How about a drink afterward? I haven’t seen you since Stanford. I’d love to catch up. See what’s going on in Marin’s world.” He flashed me a persuasive smile, one I couldn’t remember turning down. Not much had changed.
“Sure, I’ll meet you at the bar at say . . . eight?” Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea. Did I mention it was a bad idea?
“Okay, love. See you then.” He tapped my arm and walked away with a debonair stride. What were the fucking odds? In all the places in the world, why did his conference have to be here on this day? And he called me “love.” Ugh. Did he not remember what happened? That he broke my heart into a million little pieces and that I spent YEARS getting over him. Now he wanted to swoop in and have a drink and call me “love” as if it never happened. Had he been wearing a wedding ring? Damn. I hadn’t looked. That was probably a good sign. I only looked for rings when I was interested, which I hadn’t been interested in anyone since James.
James. Would James care if I went for a drink with my ex-boyfriend? Would I care if James had a drink with his ex? Not if he brought me along. I’d have to tell him, and if he didn’t want me to go, I’d cancel, no problem. Then again, maybe this would be a good opportunity for closure. I had a lot of unanswered questions with Jack, questions I eventually stopped asking. Did I really want to dredge up that part of my life when I somehow found a way out?
I couldn’t help but be curious. Maybe he was single and miserable or divorced and miserable with a huge alimony payment. Maybe the alimony was so high that I had to pay for drinks. Yeah, who’d have the upper hand then? I could handle it. Just
two mature adults having a catch up drink. In a couple days I’d be back in San Fran and he’d go back to wherever he’d come from and that would be it. I could dust my hands of him.
During the meeting later that afternoon, I could hardly focus on the speaker and my note page was desolate. Seeing Jack brought back a slew of memories. As I tried to focus on a subject I was anxious to hear about, I felt as though something had changed. It was like I was twenty-three again. While I longed for fewer lines around my eyes, twenty-three was not a place I wanted to return to. I didn’t know myself very well then, which is why I’d ended up in medical school in the first place. I lacked clarity in many areas, but back then, Jack felt like a sure thing.
Everything made sense when he was around. Jack was the one who really encouraged me to leave because he knew it wasn’t me. After I had left, he dumped me anyway. I believed that he took advantage of the situation and sent me packing. I used to imagine that he’d show up on my doorstep with flowers and a ring in the rain or snow and tell me he made a huge mistake, that I was the best thing that ever happened to him, and he was miserable without me. I was miserable without him. Eventually that passed, at least I thought it’d passed.
Later at the reception, I was in the middle of talking with a doctor from Phoenix when my ringing phone interrupted the conversation.
“Excuse me,” I said and picked up the call.
“Hey, how’s your conference?” James asked.
“So far so good. I’m at the reception now. How was work?”
“Good. You want to call me back after the reception?” he asked.
“No, it’s okay, I can talk now. Actually, something kinda crazy happened.” I stepped outside, dusk was falling and a cool breeze chilled my skin. “I ran into an old friend here. It was totally random.”
“Yeah? Who was it?” he asked.
“Jack from Stanford,” I said casually even though James knew the whole story. He knew everything about me.
“Jack, your ex-boyfriend?”
“Mmhmm,” I said.
“Oh, what’s he doing down there?” James’ tone turned curious, the jealous kind. I had to say I didn’t hate it.
“I don’t know, some meeting. Crazy, huh?” I didn’t want to fuel any suspicions in case he had any. He wasn’t the jealous type, which I appreciated most of the time, but every now and then, I liked to see him get a little possessive. Show the world that I was his. “Anyway, we’re meeting for a quick drink after this. Is that cool?” I asked.
“Sure, have fun,” he said.
I couldn’t tell if he was really okay with it or just acting like he was okay with it. Probably the former. James wasn’t the passive aggressive type.
“Okay, I’ll tell you all about it later.”
“Sounds good, I’ll call you tomorrow. I love you.”
“I love you too,” I said and hung up. Why was he so cool with it? If James was out of town and had a drink with his ex-girlfriend, I’d be bonkers. Then again, he really had nothing to worry about. I wished I could be as secure. I had nothing to worry about either.
Only fifteen minutes to eight, so I went upstairs to freshen up my makeup. I wasn’t trying to lure Jack in by any stretch, but I wanted him to know that I was much more put together than a sweaty girl in a wet dress that smelled like chlorine. The decision to arrive early, on time, or late weighed on my mind while I puckered my lips for fresh gloss. Early would give the impression that I was anxious, on time said I had nothing better going on, and late would show him I really couldn’t care less. I could only imagine what not showing up would say. Hmm, wasn’t the worst idea.
No, that would be rude and cruel, and unlike him, I wasn’t a mean person. I’d show up five minutes late, have one drink, and say goodbye forever. Besides, after tomorrow we wouldn’t even be in the same city.
“There she is,” Jack said as I arrived. He sat next to an empty seat and invited me to sit, but not before he planted a welcoming kiss on my cheek. I wiped my sweaty palm on my skirt and smiled, my lips trembling slightly. The bartender asked for my order and before I could answer Jack suggested, “Malibu Bay Breeze?” How did he remember my favorite cocktail? We hardly ever drank together, too busy studying for exams, and when we weren’t studying, we were naked. Sex with Jack was always a stimulating experience. At least that’s how I remembered it. But who knows, back then I was twenty-three and sexually inexperienced.
I smiled and ordered a glass of reisling.
“You’re a wine drinker now, are you?” he asked.
“I suppose living near the best wineries in the country will do that to you.”
“And where might that be?” He turned his seat toward mine and rested his hand on my chair, a little closer than I would have liked, but I tried to ignore it.
“San Francisco,” I said.
“Really?” He seemed happily surprised. “I would have thought I lost you to the east coast for good.”
“Nope, I’m a California girl at heart.”
“So am I apparently. California boy at heart, that is.”
“Have you been here since med school?” I asked and sipped my chilled white wine.
“Yep. I was in L.A. for a long time,” he started.
“I can’t picture you there,” I said. Jack was charming, stylish, and pretentious at times, but he wasn’t the vapid L.A. cosmetic doctor type at all. Not the Jack I knew anyway. Maybe that’s what he’d become.
“Me either.”
“Are you back in England now?” I asked, remembering that he always talked about going back. I used to imagine us there with a house in the suburbs and two little twin boys who would call me mum instead of mom, and I’d be the girl with the interesting accent.
“No, I live in San Francisco now, like you.”
I choked on his news and my wine, which sent me into a coughing fit.
“Are you all right, love?” he asked as he rubbed my back. I tried to smile politely through my coughs, but there was no way to make it a poised moment. “Can we get some water please?” he asked, and the bartender filled the glass.
“Drink this,” he advised. As I did, the coughing soothed, but my eyes had watered badly.
“Sorry.” I coughed once more. “Wrong pipe.” I took another long sip then composed myself. Finally. “Sorry, did you say you live in Frisco now?”
He nodded. “My partners and I are expanding the practice, so I moved there to get it going.”
“So the move is temporary?” I asked.
“For now,” he said. “But who knows. I think I might like living in San Francisco.” His eyes twinkled and I was caught for a moment. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t think, I may have stopped breathing. It reminded me of the first moment I saw him wandering the campus just before school started. I was reading a book on a bench when he walked by and asked me if I knew where Green Library was. After I showed him the way, we were inseparable the rest of the year. “So, we’ve talked all about me. What about you? What brought you to San Francisco?”
“I did my internship there after grad school.”
“For what?” he asked.
“Therapy. I’m in private practice with two other doctors.”
“That’s great! How’s Holly? Have you seen her lately?”
“She’s great. Works for an environmental organization in the city. I see her all the time.”
“So are you married, divorced, boyfriend?” He sounded eager for me to answer and so I did slowly.
“Boyfriend,” I boasted.
“I’m surprised. I would’ve thought you’d be married by now.”
You and me both, my friend.
“Is it serious?”
“Yeah, we just bought a house. We close escrow in a month.”
“Congratulations,” he said and lifted his glass to mine. I thanked him and asked about his relationship status in a way that was polite but not the least bit curious.
“Single. Just ended things with my girlfriend in Los Angeles.”
“That’s too bad. I would’ve thought it would be you who was married with two kids.”
“Me? No, I don’t want children. I work too much. That’s probably why I’m still single.”
Since when didn’t he want to have children? Once upon a time, he and I had often talked about getting married and having kids. It was strange having a reunion drink with the man I once thought of as “the one.” Life had a funny way of unfolding to prove you wrong.
We went on to talk about what we’d missed those ten years, classmates from Stanford, and best places to eat in San Francisco. There was this sense of familiarity, which never seemed to leave us. When I realized that it felt like we were back on our school campus, I decided it was time to leave. I took my last sip of wine and set my glass gently on the bar.
“Well, Jack. It was great running in to you. Maybe I’ll see you around.” I hopped off the bar stool and tucked my clutch under my arm.
“Where are you going? We’ve only just sat down.” He looked disappointed.
“I’ve got an early morning.”
“Well, how about dinner tomorrow night?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not? We’re both here. We’ve got to eat . . . I run into you after ten years in a random city, at a random conference. Don’t you think that’s strange?”
“Yeah,” I agreed nonchalantly. Of course it was strange. It took everything that I had not to believe it was some kind of great gesture from the universe. I wanted to believe it meant nothing. That it was, like he said, random.
“If you change your mind, I’ll be having dinner in the hotel at seven.”
“Okay,” I said. “Thanks for the drink.” I left before he could say another word, trying to get out of there as quickly as possible before his magnetic pull sucked me in forever.
The Commitment Test (The Marin Test Series Book 2) Page 14
