Despite the headache he’d given me, I did love him. I didn’t want to lose him. I didn’t want to push him away. I wanted him to understand.
I went to him and took his hand in mine. “Of course, I love you. I really do. But JC, be real. The only thing we really have between us is sex. I hope—” That isn’t the right word. “No, I know that we have potential for more. For so much more. But that’s going to take time to create and work out. We can’t get married on the basis of physical compatibility and emotional potential. That’s not how you build a great marriage.”
He brushed a hand across my cheek. “You’re thinking with your head, Gwen. Stop thinking with your head and listen to your heart.”
I closed my eyes and tried to understand how we’d gotten to this point. Our entire relationship had been unorthodox, but this was way off course. He was so desperate, like he thought he’d lose me. Had I made him feel like I wasn’t going to stick around? Or had something happened to—
It was the phone call. Jesus, of course it was. I’d been so stunned by the proposal I’d almost forgotten the connection. That had been what triggered this…this…whatever this was. Who on earth had he been talking to? And what the hell could inspire this much panic?
I opened my eyes and searched his. “Right now my heart is telling me that there’s something else going on, JC, and that you’re reacting to it by pulling this crap.”
“This isn’t crap. This is me saying I want to give my life to you.”
His touch on my skin, the affection in his voice—what if he really did just love me that much? Was that the most absurd thing in the world?
Yes. It was absurd. And I was losing patience.
I dropped his hand and backed away. “You had a phone call that upset you—upset you enough to punch a freaking hole in the wall—a phone call that you can’t tell me anything about but it led you to propose. There’s something going on. This is not just a whimsical romantic notion.”
His posture changed as he assumed a new tactic. “Marry me, Gwen. And I’ll tell you everything. All of it. Every single secret I have.”
I suddenly went cold. “That’s a pretty shitty ultimatum.” Hot rage blew in across my icy veins. “You think I’d marry you just to ease my curiosity?” I hadn’t pressed him. I hadn’t pressured him in any way to tell me anything, and he came back with this?
He was quick to amend. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to sound like that. It’s not an ultimatum. It’s just…it’s just how it has to be. I wish it were different and it’s just not. Because I had obligations. And a road I was taking before I ever met you. I’m bound and it’s killing me. You have to hear me—it’s killing me. I need you. I want you. I love you. So I’m not suggesting you’d marry me to ease your curiosity, but I wanted you to know that I wouldn’t be a husband with secrets.”
He pulled me back into his arms. Back into his heaven. “Marry me, Gwen. Marry me and let me make you feel good. Let me bring you coffee in bed. Let me push your body and show you how beautiful you are. Let me cover you everywhere with love. Let me take care of you and adore you and be with you.”
If there were warmer words in the dictionary, I didn’t know them. If there were other phrases and sentiments that were capable of melting the most frozen parts of me, I’d never come across them. I’d accepted my role in life. I knew who I was and what my purpose was. I hadn’t been made to be noticed or adored. And this man—this man not only noticed and adored, but he worshipped.
And he knew how to make me believe that he’d worship me forever.
I let myself kiss him. I let myself feel his urgency and his sincere need for me through the movement of his lips and tongue. I let myself feel worthy of his devotion.
Then I stepped away—out of his heaven, out of his peace. And I prayed that one day, paradise could really be mine. “N-no,” I said, my voice catching. “I’m sorry. But I know I’m not wrong. It has to be no.”
His whole body fell in defeat.
Like a good dream that fades upon waking, I tried to cling to it, tried to bring some of it back. “Look, we need to spend more time together. Move in, maybe.” He was in L.A. more than half the week anyway. It was a compromise that I could agree to, though I had a feeling there wasn’t anything that could appease him at this point. He had his mind stuck on this one thing, for some reason, and there was nothing I could do to unstick him.
All animation was gone from his features now. He’d given up. “That won’t work. I don’t even know when I’ll be back in New York.”
“Because I won’t marry you?” My throat felt like it was closing, and my emotions were warring. Was I pissed at the emotional blackmail? Or was I worried that I was losing him entirely? Maybe a little bit of both.
“No. Because it’s not safe.”
“It’s not safe? Why is it not safe?”
He waved his hand. “Forget that.” He gathered himself, reigning in all expression. “Please don’t ask me to say more. This is how things are right now and I can’t change them. I don’t know if I’ll be able to be back here for a while.”
I thought he might have made a slip of some sort, but now I was focused on his last words. I don’t know if I’ll be back here for a while.
He delivered it with such stoicism, and I had to be—something—in response. Something that would counterbalance the complete impassiveness that he’d adopted after his stunning display of passion only a moment before.
Had to be something, so I chose pissed. “Okay, let me get this straight. You were going to marry me then abandon me?”
He put a palm up in the air as if he could stop my train of thought with the flash of his hand. “I was going to ask you to come with me.” Like that fixed everything. Like that made all the difference.
Like hell it fixed everything. The only difference it made was to make me more irked. “You mean, you were going to ask me to pick up and just leave everything? For you don’t know how long?”
His answer came in the form of a guilty smirk.
“Why would you think I’d do that? I can’t do that. I have a life here. A job. A sister. I can’t just leave.” My voice was getting higher and with it probably my blood pressure. I threw my head back like a Pez dispenser, but instead of letting out candy, I was letting out frustration. I couldn’t figure out why a normally rational person would be so unreasonable all of a sudden.
Unless I was fooling myself, and I really didn’t know enough about JC to know that he was normally rational.
Or maybe…
The comment about safety came back and my head popped back down in place. “JC, are you in trouble?”
He’d been pounding his fist against his forehead but stopped and met my eyes. “Not the kind of trouble you’re thinking.”
“I’m not thinking anything! I don’t have enough information from you to form any sort of thinking at all!”
My phone started ringing in my hand. I ignored it for two rings. Then, cursing under my breath, I glanced down and saw Norma’s name as well as the low battery flashing. It wasn’t the most appropriate time to take her call, but I needed to talk to her. And I needed a break from the conversation with JC. I needed a moment of levity.
I angled away from him and answered. “Hello?”
“Did I catch you at a good time?”
I stole a glance at JC. “Not really. But my phone’s going to die, so go ahead and talk.”
“Got it.” She was walking as she talked. I could hear her heels clipping along tiled floor. She almost never made a phone call while she was sitting still. It was a waste of time. She was more efficient than that. “Are you doing okay this morning?”
Honestly, I wasn’t sure. “That’s not really an easy question to answer.”
“I understand.” She didn’t, but I let her believe she did. “I’m sorry to make you do this, but I need to see you.”
I’d expected this. She’d need me to fill out my report and to sign it and whatever else the law r
equired to file a charge against him. “Okay. When?”
“Now. I can have a car pick you up in fifteen minutes.”
Another glance at JC. I didn’t want to leave him this way. There was too much tension between us. “Can we make it a little later?”
“No. We’re meeting with an officer from the NYPD. He just called and this is when he’s available. We need to get your testimony and that security tape. He needs to see your face. Is it bruised?” She was so matter-of-fact about it. I’d always loved that about her. She wasn’t too precious or overly warm. She got things done. She took care of the details.
“Yeah. It’s pretty black-and-blue. He got me with his knuckles.”
“We’ll need to photograph that.”
“Right.” I took a deep breath in then blew it out. “Okay, then. I’ll be ready.”
“Four Seasons, right?”
“Yep.”
“The car will be there in fifteen.”
I held the phone to my ear a few seconds after she’d hung up. My gut had already been in knots about JC. I wasn’t ready to deal with my father too. All I really wanted to do was climb back into bed and start the day over again. Better yet, climb back into bed and repeat the night before—making love and whispering sweet nothings into the darkness.
But the sun was up and a car was on its way.
I turned back toward JC. “My sister,” I said. He’d watched me the entire call, his face even. “She needs me so we can file the charges against my father. She’s picking me up in fifteen. So.”
He nodded. Then he closed his eyes and ran his hand roughly across his forehead. He looked lost. Alone.
It broke parts of me that I didn’t know I had. I wanted to run to him, wanted to wrap him in my arms and make it better. Wanted to convince him that whatever he was wrestling couldn’t defeat him.
But I didn’t know that was true. I didn’t know anything about him at all, really.
I shook my head, not knowing how to deal with the situation, and definitely not having time for it. “I want to talk about this more later,” I said as I gathered my clothes from around the room. “We’ll work everything out.”
“Uh hmm.” He didn’t look at me, his thoughts elsewhere.
In the bathroom, I gave myself ten seconds to examine the colorful souvenir my father had given me, then forced myself to ignore it. I cleaned up in the sink and used some of JC’s deodorant before trading his shirt for the clothes I’d worn the day before. I brushed my teeth with my finger and his toothpaste. My hair took longer to deal with. It was a tangle of knots again, evidence of having been fucked well all night. Luckily, I found a ponytail holder on the bathroom counter from another visit and was able to fasten a messy bun.
When I came out, JC was dressed and sitting at the front room desk, working on his laptop.
“I’m going now,” I said, awkwardly.
He stood and crossed to me. “I heard what you said, Gwen. I want you to know that. But if you change your mind—I booked a room at the Trump Hotel in Vegas. There’s a flight at twelve-fifteen out of LaGuardia. I bought my ticket under Alex Mader, and I have another seat on hold for you. You could join me.”
My head was spinning. “Alex Mader? Is that your real name?”
“No. It’s the name I’m using to travel. Join me.”
His words started to hit me with comprehension. He was leaving. He was really leaving. Now. I had to go deal with my fucking father, and the man that I loved was fucking leaving and he didn’t know when he’d be back.
I started to tell him not to leave or to wait until I got back from seeing Norma, but he cut me off, pulling me into a tight embrace. “Don’t say anything. You have to go. I have to go right now too. I really don’t want to go without you. So think about joining me. Please.”
He kissed me. Like a last kiss, tasting of all the flavors of goodbye. Longing and sorrow. Melancholy and anguish. Desperation and regret. Finality.
When he broke away, he placed one more kiss on the tip of my nose. “Change your mind, Gwen. Change your mind.”
Chapter Eighteen
The car was waiting for me when I got downstairs. It wasn’t the usual black generic company car that Norma used on occasion. It was rich and expensive looking. More plush. Had to belong to Hudson Pierce.
Which meant she’d involved him in my drama. Great. How awesome to have random important people know that no matter how strong I appeared on the outside, I was really just a punching bag.
Despite my humiliation, I managed to smile at the driver—a middle-aged white guy with an overzealous moustache and a full head of brown hair. He was new too. His Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts were definitely not standard uniform. For some reason, the change in routine made me feel even more off-balance.
I climbed into the backseat with a sigh.
Luckily, after he told me where we were headed—to a coffee shop near Pierce Industries—Mr. Moustache didn’t try to chat me up. I was grateful. I needed the quiet. I needed peace. What I really needed was a tumbler of bourbon and a few hours of mindless television, but since that wasn’t happening anytime soon, I’d take the silence.
My mind was overactive, though, and wouldn’t let me rest. Combined with the storm of emotions going on inside me, I felt like a volatile mess. If only JC’s farewell hadn’t been so cryptic, I wouldn’t feel so unsettled. He said he was leaving, and I believed him. But did he really not know when he’d return, or was that a bluff to get me to agree to his ridiculous proposal?
When he’d said it, I’d been mad. Mad that he’d planned to abandon me. Then mad that he wanted to take me away from my life. After that, Norma had called, and I had to leave and it was only now that I was really realizing that he might actually be leaving me. That his invitation to join him at the airport might be my last chance to be with him.
But why on earth would that be true? He acted like he didn’t have a say in when he returned to New York City. Did he have a project that had gone awry? Something that would require more of his time and attention? If that was the case, then why did he want to marry me first? So that I’d be tied to him?
The longer we drove, the heavier the ball of dread in my stomach became. The more I believed that JC was actually in trouble. He had to be. It was the only thing that made sense. Was the trouble so bad that he had to run? Did he think that if I knew what it was that I’d not love him anymore? Was that why he wanted to make sure I said I do before he told me what the situation was?
Regret began to creep in. I should have told him that I didn’t care what he’d done. I should have told him that I’d never judge him for his past. He’d been so amazing about letting me feel loved no matter what. I obviously hadn’t done the same.
Why the hell hadn’t I done the same?
And was it too late to try?
I tried to check my phone for the time but found it dead. I’d left the hotel around ten. It couldn’t be any later than ten-fifteen. If I told the driver to go to the airport right now, I’d make it with plenty of time. He’d probably say no. He got his orders from Norma, not me. But maybe, as soon as I hopped out, I could hail a cab and head straight there. Did I dare bail on my sister like that?
I did dare. Norma and the charges against my father could wait. So I’d inconvenience a police officer. That didn’t really bother me too much. I wouldn’t have felt the same urgency only six months before, but I was a different person now. A person who cared enough about her happiness to try to do something about it. If this was my only shot with JC, I had to take it. I had to give him another chance to open up to me.
I prepared myself mentally for the rest of the ride, and as we approached Pierce Industries, I was already looking for a place I could hail a cab.
Except, the car stopped at Pierce Industries and not at the coffee shop down the block. And not just at Pierce Industries, but in the valet section of the garage. Before I asked, the driver explained as he handed his keys over. “There’s no parking at the shop, s
o we’ll walk from here.”
We’ll walk? He was coming with me? Why wasn’t he just dropping me off and leaving?
I got out of the car, confused, and followed the driver out to the sidewalk.
“It’s at the end of the block to the right.” Ah! Maybe he is leaving me. “I’ll let you lead the way.”
Or maybe not.
I took a few tentative steps toward the coffee shop to see if he would follow, all the while keeping my eyes peeled for a taxi. When I was certain he was coming too, I turned back to him. “I can get there from here by myself, thank you. I appreciate you taking me this far.”
“I apologize, Ms. Anders, but I’ve been instructed to escort you directly to your sister.”
My body went rigid. “Have I done something wrong? Am I in trouble?”
“Nah. Nothing like that.” His eyes scanned everywhere, I realized, without his head moving an inch. “Your sister’s concerned for your safety, that’s all.”
If my levelheaded sister was concerned for my safety, then there was something I didn’t know about going on. Something serious.
I stopped looking for a cab.
Norma was easy to spot inside the coffee shop. She was sitting with three men—one in a police uniform, one I didn’t recognize, and another with his back to me. Despite what my driver—not only my driver, it seemed, but also security detail—had said, I was still cautious as I walked over to join her. He let me go alone, getting in line to get something at the register. It was nice to have my space, but even though my sister hadn’t seen me yet, I no longer had any inclination to go anywhere but directly to her.
“Hey,” I said, when I reached their table. Then, when I saw the face of the third man, I screamed.
He shot up out of his chair and pulled me into his arms. “Hey yourself, big sister.”
Ben, Ben. I nuzzled into his shirt and held onto him with my life. Held onto him tight enough to hide any wayward tears. So many things I wanted to say, but no words came. I thought them extra hard, hoping he’d hear them anyway. I’ve missed you. I love you. I’m so glad you’re here. Why are you here?
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