by Mimi Grace
She rolled her body where it lay sprawled across Jason’s and peeked at the olive-green cocktail dress. “Yeah, it came in yesterday. I’m wearing it to an art exhibit opening for a friend from college. And probably to my client’s launch party at the end of the month.” She had to donate some of her more fancy evening outfits she owned because they no longer fit, and she was in the midst of replacing them whilst trying not to offend her bank account.
“How’s looking into opening up your own business going, by the way?”
“I haven’t done anything beyond Pintresting what I think would be nice wallpaper. So pretty much just the fun stuff.”
“Why?”
“Why I’m just doing the fun stuff and not the serious logistics?”
She felt him nod.
“I don’t know. I’m busy with this campaign, and it’s going to move me up in the company if I do well on it. For now, that’s what I’m focusing on. Maybe in a few years I’ll actually take the plunge.”
They lay there quiet for a few moments. Jolene got so uncomfortable when she had to think about opening her own PR firm. It was something she’d always wanted to do once she understood that she enjoyed working in PR, but she had this recurring thought that she might meet epic financial and career failure if she tried. And any hopes of one day spearheading campaigns for major beauty companies and fashion shows were just fairy tales. It’s why nobody knew about her dream except for Jason. She didn’t know why her dreams felt safe when she discussed them with him. She hadn’t known him nearly as long as she had Yvonne or even her sister.
“I couldn’t do your job,” he said.
“Why?”
“You have to attend too many events. I’d rather stay home and—”
“And watch boring documentaries,” she finished for him.
He playfully squeezed her waist. “For your information, I also enjoy completing five-thousand-piece puzzles.”
“It’s a wonder how your mom and aunt get you gallivanting around the city attending all sorts of public events and activities.”
He made a dismissive sound.
She chuckled. “Speaking of your mom, she invited me to your birthday dinner. The big five-oh, right?”
He swatted her backside.
“Hey,” she said as she smiled. She’d been thrilled when Ms. Nadine had texted her about the dinner. She didn’t immediately accept, deciding to run it by Jason beforehand, but she couldn’t temper down the thrill she felt about sharing this little moment with him and those he cared about the most.
“She’s convinced herself that we’re dating.”
“Well, I’d rather her think that than know what we’re actually doing. So, should I RSVP?”
He was silent for too long, and Jolene frowned. Was she being too forward? Maybe this crossed the bounds of their relationship. It made her antsy that he might be trying to find a nice way to let her know that it did.
“I share a birthday with my dad,” he finally said.
She felt her heart jerk.
“I understand if you’d prefer to spend it with just your family.”
“No, I want you to come.”
“Okay,” she said, kissing his hand before propping her chin on his chest to look at him. “Tell me about him.”
He looked at her, and she thought he might decline or change the subject, but he said, “He was the perfect complement to my mom. You see how vibrant and energetic she is? He was the same. He was funny and goofy. He would come home for work, and I would be doing my homework at the kitchen table, and without fail, he would kiss my mom and then give me this huge bear hug like he’d not seen me in weeks.”
Tenderness rumbled through her.
“He liked rugby.” He laughed a little bit. “A lot. He’d promised we’d play a full-contact game once I grew bigger.”
She couldn’t imagine how it must feel to lose a father that young. The need to wrap her arms around him and take that pain away was so strong that it shocked her. She didn’t know if he wanted to be smothered in all that affection, so she clenched her fists to prevent herself from doing just that.
“It almost killed my mom losing him. Probably would’ve if I hadn’t been there depending on her.”
Jolene stroked his chest. He was far away now. But she stayed there, not really pulling him out of his thoughts.
“I should go,” he abruptly said after several minutes had passed. He got up from her bed.
“Oh, okay.”
“I know we had plans to watch that Netflix comedy special, but I forget I had something to do. Maybe some other time?”
He had already started to put his clothes back on. Jolene had to force herself not to ask him what it was, because Jason wasn’t the type to just “forget” something he had to do. She kicked herself for bringing up memories that were painful for him. This thing they had going on was supposed to be fun and convenient, not an emotion excavation. He made his way to the door like the devil chased him, and she trailed behind him with her bed sheet wrapped around her body.
He got to the door and turned. “I’m sorry.” He kissed her.
“Don’t apologize. We’ll talk later.”
He walked toward the elevators. “See you,” he said.
“Love—” She coughed, trying to distort what had almost escaped her mouth. She slammed the door shut and leaned heavily against it, not waiting to see if Jason had registered her flub.
Crap.
In the past, Jolene’s instincts would’ve been to ignore the possible consequences and jump in feet first. Her ex-husband had been the same way. That’s what drew them to each other. Their magnetic pull didn’t give them a chance, however, to see the relationship for what it was: an ill-fated union between two people who might’ve cared for each other but whose passions greatly diverged. Toby had wanted to live out of a suitcase and never stay in one place for long, but Jolene had been determined to finish college and explore her own interests. To make the relationship work would’ve meant one of them abandoning their goals.
Now, Jolene couldn’t stand the thought of destroying what she had with Jason because she once again got caught up in the beautiful details instead of acknowledging the bigger picture. She had grown to like Jason as a person, more than she could have thought possible. But regardless of the words that had wanted to spring forth so easily from her lips, she wasn’t in love with him. He’d just finished pouring out little pieces of his heart, so of course she would feel somewhat emotional.
Satisfied that she wasn’t really in love with Jason, she pushed herself off the door and headed to get into the shower. Thankfully, she hadn’t had the opportunity to ask him to attend her friend’s solo art exhibit in a few days. She needed the space, if only to further clear her mind.
Chapter 21
Jolene quickly swiped another delicious hors d’oeuvre from a server passing by. The gallery was full, and people were mingling and pensively commenting on her friend Mary’s work that decorated the high expansive walls. Jolene shuffled along, realizing regrettably that her heels were too high for her.
“It’s quite remarkable how Miss Garcia’s paintings are so suggestive but simultaneously intimate,” one fellow patron standing beside her said.
Jolene wasn’t sure if the man directed the comment at her, but she nodded and pursed her lips. She tilted her head to the side and studied the array of colors and bold lines. One might assume Jolene was the artist with the way she smiled every time she overheard someone say something positive about the paintings. The obvious artistry impressed Jolene, even though she couldn’t articulate exactly what she looked at or why it rivaled the best.
She briefly wished that Jason were here, if only to have someone to rave to about the really tasty food floating around the room. However, she had reduced how much she contacted Jason in the past few days, determined to create some distance. But the mental fortitude it took not to text him made her brain itch and her skin feel tight. She had too many screenshots in her c
amera roll that she’d hoarded trying to space out the time between her texts, and she also attempted not to dwell on how infrequently he messaged her as well. He was probably busy with work.
Jolene spotted her friend in the corner talking to an older woman. She pushed thoughts of Jason to the back of her mind and slowly slinked her way toward the pair. Mary’s blond hair, fashioned into some oversize beehive, stood out amongst the crowd.
“Jojo,” Mary said as she turned away from the older woman she spoke with to hug Jolene. “Thank you for coming.”
“It’s no problem, you’re so talented. And your work is beautiful.”
Mary gave her a charming pout and hugged her again. “Come meet my friend, Greta.”
The older woman had stood there patiently as the two had greeted one another.
“Greta, this is my dear friend from college, Jolene Baxter. She’s a fantastic PR manager; she actually introduced me to my fabulous web designer.”
Greta nodded.
“And Jolene this is Greta Delaney, editor-in-chief of Cashmere & Pearls magazine.”
Jolene was a little professionally awestruck. The woman was legendary in the world of media and entertainment. Greta had worked several jobs early-on in her career: radio, television, and editorial work, before making a leap into starting her own very successful and prestigious magazine.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Ms. Delaney,” Jolene said, trying to keep herself from fawning over the poor woman.
“Yes, and please call me Greta.”
God. It was as if she’d stepped into someone else’s life. The three women talked about the artwork surrounding them before naturally transitioning into talking about trends they’d all been seeing in their respective industries in terms of the digital space.
“I require all my clients to get social media,” Jolene said. “I think it’s something businesses can’t discount because, if used correctly, it can be a game changer.”
“Do you get pushback?” Greta asked.
“Not usually. However, I sometimes get resistance—”
“Hello, ladies.”
A voice that had come to be synonymous with irritation pummeled through the women’s conversation. Jolene had to curb the instinct to swat at Mark who had snuck up on their trio. The other two women turned to him, and it became clear neither one of them knew who Mark was.
She contemplated pretending not to know the man either, but he had other plans.
“Jolene, it’s nice to see you. Will you introduce me to your friends?”
Annoyed but unwilling to make a scene in front of a legend in the magazine industry and mar Mary’s special night, Jolene said, “Mark Timothy, Greta Delaney and Mary Garcia.”
“Oh, Mark Timothy like Denis Timothy’s son?” Greta asked.
“Yes. The one and the same,” Mark replied as he threw his shoulders back.
“Your father was so generous renting out this space to me so last minute.”
“It’s a wonderful exhibit. More than worthy of this locale,” Mark said.
Mary beamed at him, and Jolene wanted to throw up. Of course, it wasn’t her fault, she didn’t know what a tool Mark was.
“Yes, Cashmere & Pearls did a profile on your father a few years ago. Interesting man,” Greta added.
The conversation lulled then, and Jolene opened her mouth to excuse herself when Mark said, “It’s so good to see successful women supporting one another.”
The women murmured their agreement.
“Sometimes I get jealous over how friendly you girls are with one another. No room for the guys,” Mark continued, bumping his shoulder into Jolene’s. “Isn’t that right, Jojo?”
He delivered the words teasingly, but Jolene almost sneered. She held herself together by taking a swig of her champagne. Greta and Mary exchanged uncomfortable looks.
“How do you two know each other?” Greta asked. Her eyes lost the warmth they had when Jolene first met her.
“Friends and work associates,” Mark said.
Maybe because the champagne was hitting her just right, Jolene said, “Yes, friends. If your definition of a friend is a person who doesn’t know or respect your boundaries.”
Mark let out a hearty laugh and patted her on the back like she was choking on something. None of the women laughed.
“I’d like you to leave,” Mary said to Mark.
And Jolene felt the air get stuck in her throat.
Mark looked amused but didn’t argue. He straightened his cuffs and turned to walk to another group that congregated in front of one of Mary’s pieces.
“No, Mr. Timothy,” Mary called out to him. “I mean, I’d like you to leave the event.” Jolene’s eyes widened, and she couldn’t really feel her feet on the ground.
Mark approached the trio once more. “Are you serious, Miss Garcia?”
“Yes. Very. I can even call security to escort you out, if you want.”
In that moment Jolene didn’t know what Mark would do, but as the poster boy for charm and nice teeth, she should’ve known he wouldn’t be caught acting an obvious fool in public.
Before he made his final turn to leave the gallery, he leaned heavily into Jolene’s side and said, “Consider your access to my show revoked.”
Jolene gave him a phony smile, raised her champagne glass, and made a toast. “To no longer being work associates.”
He left the venue then, leaving the women in his wake. They didn’t speak on the matter further, and half a dozen other people joined them. Small talk and artsy-fartsy conversations ensued.
The interaction with Mark had left Jolene feeling drained. After only an hour, she sent a quick text to an otherwise engaged Mary, thanking her again for the invite and getting rid of Mark. She said her goodbyes to the people around her and headed outside to wait for an Uber.
“Miss Baxter,” Greta said, catching up to Jolene. “It was very nice meeting you.”
“Yes, it was so nice meeting you too.”
Greta offered her hand with a business card between her fingers. “Please reach out when you have a client you think would fit the Cashmere & Pearls brand. That’s my personal phone number and email.”
A little shocked, she took the business card. “Thank you, Greta.”
The woman nodded and walked back into the throng of people like some guardian angel.
Take that, Fuck Face Mark.
“Which brand of pasta sauce do you prefer?” Jolene asked as she stared at the assortment of jars.
Jason had invited her over to his place to make up for how he’d abandoned her two weekends ago when all his feelings bubbled to the surface. The feelings he only let surface with his therapist and occasionally with his family. There was no reason to open up so thoroughly to someone who couldn’t be in his life in that capacity for too much longer.
He’d been silent for a while when Jolene held up two options of generic pasta sauces to his face.
His lips turned downward in mild distaste. “No, we’ll get some fresh tomatoes, oregano, Italian seasoning, fennel seeds, some garlic cloves—”
“All right, Chef Bobby Flay,” she said, putting the jars back in their place. “I’m just used to dumping the cheapest jar of pasta sauce over overdone pasta after I come home from work. I meant no offense.”
He chuckled and relaxed a little. He’d been concerned that she might be cold or annoyed with him for not texting her throughout the week in addition to bailing on her.
“How has work been?” he asked.
“Oh, oh, oh. You know how I met Greta Delaney last weekend. Well, I emailed her to thank her again and tell her it was nice meeting her. I didn’t think she’d reply, but she did and asked if I wanted to get coffee in the near future and cc’d her assistant to set up a date.”
“Hey now”—he lifted his hand for her to high-five—“that’s a great contact you can use when you start your business.”
She rolled her eyes but returned his high-five. “That won’t be for many y
ears.”
She brushed off his interest in her career aspirations a lot. He previously thought it was because they weren’t close like that, but the more he got to know Jolene, the more he suspected she did it because she actually didn’t like the vulnerability that came with sharing lofty goals.
“You’ll be a success.” He, of course, didn’t know this for certain, and he wasn’t in the habit of making empty reassurances, but it nevertheless left his mouth. And it had the desired effect when her previously tense expression softened.
Jason led them down the frozen food aisle, searching for vegetables that wouldn’t look anemic once steamed.
“I hope so. Also, I can start building my own connections that don’t rely on the Able & Quinn name to get me in. I can be selective and not work with people like Mark.”
“Wait, has he been causing you more problems?”
“Oh, has he ever.”
She casually ran down confrontations she’d had with Mark and injected her usual humor and flippancy, but he couldn’t tell if it was authentic or one that she adopted because she wanted to dispel his concerns.
“Does he know where you live?” he asked gruffly.
She looked a little taken aback by his question. “No, but I’m ninety percent sure he’s the vindictive type that makes working life hellish as opposed to the type that cuts people up into small pieces.”
He let out a harsh breath. “If you even feel a hint of fear, can you at least let me know?”
“Okay.”
The way she bit her lip, Jason could tell that she resisted the urge to tease him. Which was a good thing because he was on the verge of suggesting she move into another place.
Like mine.
Wait, no, not his. The last time he’d lived with anyone was in college and that had been a nightmare. He did well in his own space and liked the control he had over the cleanliness and food in his apartment.
“So, tell me how it makes sense that you insist on homemade pasta sauce, but frozen vegetables are all right?” Jolene asked as she stared at the frozen packets he’d placed in their cart.
