Joss shook her head. “I wish it were that simple. She dumped me, Nance.”
“What? When?”
“This morning. Soon as we flew in.”
“Why?”
Joss twirled the ceramic cup in her hands. “I’m not really sure, except, I think maybe she’s had enough. I mean, considering that I’d made it clear from the start there was no chance of a relationship between us. Guess she thought it was time to bail.”
“You mean to say she didn’t offer you an explanation?”
“She said it hurt too much to continue. Something like that. And that she had to save herself, whatever the hell that meant.”
“I see.” Nancy was quiet for a long moment, joining Joss in staring at the gloomy vista below. “And what about you? How do you feel about it?”
Joss shrugged, trying to convince herself that it was okay, because it had to be okay. She’d had no say in Sarah’s actions, and really, it was all her fault anyway. “I don’t have any choice. That’s the way she wants it.”
“Wait a minute. Are you saying this doesn’t bother you?”
“Look, we had an agreement. A business arrangement. And yes, this past week was more than that. It was fun, it was exciting, but it was meant to be temporary. All of it was meant to be temporary.”
The muscles in Nancy’s jaws clenched, then unclenched. Her dark eyes turned to granite. “You are so full of shit, Joss McNab. This is killing you. Admit it.”
“It’s not killing me. I’m a big girl and so is Sarah. I’m fine, okay? I don’t need a girlfriend. Never have, never will.”
Nancy shook her head. “Good one, Joss. Still trying to convince yourself of that old load of crap?”
Now Joss was getting pissed. She was in no mood to have her relationship—or lack of—psychoanalyzed by her best friend. Things with Sarah were done, over, end of story. It had to end sometime, after all, and while she would have loved to have it last longer, well, it hadn’t. “Leave it alone, all right? It’s best this way.”
“You know what, Joss? Sometimes you are such an egotistical idiot!”
“What the fuck, Nance? I don’t deserve that!”
Nancy took a deep breath, expelled slowly. “All right, I’m sorry. But you are sometimes. You think you’re such an expert on yourself. That you don’t need anybody. That you’re happy going it alone. You’ve convinced yourself that you’d be a shitty girlfriend, which means you deliberately sabotage any relationship before it gets off the ground.”
“You’re wrong.” There should have been more to say in her defense, but Joss couldn’t think straight anymore. Not when it came to Sarah. It was easier to fall back on her old tried and true arguments.
“I’m not wrong. You’re wrong. Honey, listen to me.” Nancy paused, then took Joss’s hand and squeezed it—a rare show of affection between the two friends. It was her wife Jayme who was the more effusive, affectionate one. “Everyone needs somebody sometime in their life. We’re humans. Most of us aren’t meant to be alone. Hell, without Jayme, I’d…Well, I don’t know what, except I’d be miserable most of the time. Look, I know you would make a wonderful girlfriend if you would only give yourself the chance. The problem, my friend, is that you want to be perfect, the best, at everything you do. And there’s no such thing as being a perfect girlfriend or having a perfect relationship. Doesn’t exist. And it especially doesn’t exist while you’re trying to be the perfect doctor.”
Joss shook her head, refusing to admit Nancy was right. “I know what you’re trying to do, but it won’t work, okay? I plan to remain happily single for the rest of my life. Or for at least as long as my career lasts. Because my career is what matters most and always will.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I have a career and a wife.”
“And I’m ecstatic for you.” Joss drained her cup and stood. “But you’re not me, Nance.” What she didn’t bother to point out was that Sarah had already made the decision for them. There was nothing she could do.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Sarah spent the bulk of three straight days holed up in her tiny studio, other than taking a couple of short breaks to visit Roxi in the hospital. She’d not run into Joss again, counting herself lucky in that department. She didn’t want to run into her, not yet, and not while she was so consumed by the sketch she’d made of her, which she’d transferred to a proper canvas and now had decided to turn into an oil painting.
Joss hadn’t asked for a painting of herself. But as Sarah worked on completing the sketch in her studio, she found herself wanting to re-create it in full color. And with the texture of oil. It wasn’t because she was missing Joss, she told herself, though she couldn’t think of any other reason. She was glad in any case for the impetus it provided for getting back to her oils, of being productive in her studio once again. If nothing further came of that, it was fine with her. She’d give the portrait to Madeline once she was satisfied with it.
Sarah studied Joss’s eyes, both in the sketch and in the oil. She took her finest brush, dipped it in the light gold she’d mixed and added the tiniest stroke to the green of Joss’s left eye. She added a matching speck to the other eye. Yes, she thought, satisfied. The sun dancing off the ocean that day had been reflected in Joss’s eyes, enhancing the green of them and infusing them with sparks of gold.
She studied Joss’s eyes again in a slight rush of dizziness. Joss had been looking at her with unmistakable lust that day. Well, most of the days they’d been together, Joss had looked at her the way a starving person looks at a table of food. But there was more, much more in the shining, luminescent depths. There was vulnerability, need, joy too. There was… As Sarah acknowledged what she saw there in front of her, she felt her body sway a little. She sat down, hard, to collect herself. Goddammit, she thought, I knew it. Joss loves me. Is in love with me. It’s so fucking obvious in her eyes. Why didn’t I see it before?
Momentarily stunned, she set her brush down and rubbed her forehead out of exhaustion and frustration. She hadn’t wanted to see it because Joss hadn’t wanted to express it, that was why. It was infuriating. Why couldn’t Joss admit the truth? Why couldn’t she accept what she surely felt inside? She had been so adamant about her inability and unwillingness to commit to a relationship. But this isn’t simply about a relationship, Sarah knew. Or dating. This is about love. About being in love. And about letting your heart rule for a change. The problem with Joss is that she won’t allow herself to love.
She stood and paced the small space, furious again with Joss and her damned fear. Yes, that’s exactly what it is, fear, she thought. Joss is a big fucking coward. It’s that simple. And she won’t even—
Her cell phone rang. She half-hoped it was Joss so that she could give her a piece of her mind.
She barked her greeting into the phone.
“Sarah Young?”
“Yes?” Sarah’s heart plummeted with disappointment. It wasn’t Joss.
“It’s Raina Jenstone. Nathan Sellers’s executive assistant. Well, former executive assistant. How are you?”
It was good news on the other end, she hoped. She could sure use some. “Good, I’m fine. Former, you said?”
“That’s right. As of last week. Look, I know Christmas is only a few days away, so the timing’s not great. But can you meet with me tomorrow?”
The hint of excitement in Raina’s voice heightened Sarah’s hopes. “Of course. Give me the place and time and I’ll be there.”
They met for lunch the next day, not far from the Vanderbilt district, where the restaurants were small and cozy and offered excellent food. Few tourists found their way to the district, which Sarah appreciated. Nashville was a magnet for tourists, loud and often drunken tourists who stumbled along Broadway from bar to bar. Sarah had had her fill of that scene years ago.
“Thank you for meeting me,” Raina said, shaking Sarah’s hand before they sat down. “Lunch is on me, so make it good.” Her smile was friendly, welcoming, and she
was much more relaxed than she had been during their last and only visit in Nathan Sellers’s lavish offices.
“I have good news I hope,” Raina said after a few more pleasantries and lunch was ordered.
Sarah raised a faint smile. “That’s the only kind I’m looking for these days.”
Raina explained that Sellers’s furniture business had amalgamated with—or rather, been overtaken by—a much larger national chain called The Comfort Zone. The company had outlets in every major city in America and was three times the size of Sellers’s company. Raina herself had been not only absorbed into the company but given a promotion. For which, she winked, she was excited.
“That is good news,” Sarah said, unsure how she fit into it all.
Raina’s smile was warm. Inviting. She was a nice-looking woman—a bit older, refined and sophisticated in her manners and dress—and she seemed to appraise Sarah with more than passing interest. She leaned forward. “Sarah, may I be so bold as to ask if you’re single?”
Their food arrived—fish and chips for Sarah, fish tacos for Raina—and it gave Sarah a minute to think about her answer, because the truth was the question confounded her. She chose honesty. “I’m not exactly sure.”
Raina raised an eyebrow but said nothing for a long moment. When she did speak, it was with an acknowledging smile. “Well, the lucky lady who hasn’t quite managed to sweep you off your feet yet needs a swift kick in the backside. Or else you do.”
“You were right on the first count, but I’m afraid a kick probably wouldn’t do it.” A miracle was more like it.
“A pity. And her loss. If you don’t mind talking a little business while we eat, I have a proposal for you.” Raina leaned down and pulled some papers out of the portfolio case that rested against the table leg.
“I’d like to make you an offer,” she continued without seeming to notice Sarah’s fork stalling halfway to her mouth. “The Comfort Zone would like thirty-six of your pieces to display at their stores and for staging homes, with the option of adding more later on. You can also offer to sell any of your paintings through us, though we’d take a twenty percent commission.”
Sarah’s fork clattered to her plate.
“You do have thirty-six paintings?”
“Barely. I mean, I might have to get a couple more done by…by when?” Holy shit!
“Four weeks from now.”
“All right. I can do that.” But only if she hauled ass.
Raina smiled and took a long slow sip of her sweet tea. “Wouldn’t you like to know the financial terms?”
Sarah laughed. “Hell yes, though at this point, I’d almost do it for free if you’re going to help me sell them too.”
“You’re not exactly a hard-boiled salesperson, are you?”
“Are most artists?”
Raina shook her head. “Good point. Concentrate on painting, but do me a favor and get a lawyer to look at the terms, okay?”
She set a handful of papers down on the table beside Sarah. A contract. Sarah couldn’t resist scanning it quickly, her eyes nearly popping out of her head. “Forty-one thousand dollars to lease my paintings for a year?”
“With an option to renew, yes. I hope you’ll find that acceptable.”
Acceptable? Jesus, it was more than acceptable. It was like winning the lottery. “If I’m to be honest, this will allow me to be able to focus nearly full time on my work. Well, with a bit of teaching as well.” It wasn’t lost on her that the money would more than replace what she’d have earned from Joss.
Raina raised her glass in a toast. “That’s exactly what I want to hear, more production from you.” She winked. “Although if you get too famous, we probably won’t be able to afford you.”
Sarah slumped back in her chair. “I would love to have that kind of problem.”
* * *
Joss cinched her coat tighter around her neck to ward off the wind, which was like a cold steel blade against her skin. The weather wasn’t cooperating for such a long walk, but that was fine with her. Wallowing in misery, she wanted the weather to punish her. Wanted the self-flagellation to remind her that she had done absolutely nothing to try to stop Sarah from walking out of her life. Had done zero to try to change her mind, zero to attempt to work out some sort of compromise.
She marched over the footbridge that took tourists and Titans fans from downtown over the Cumberland River toward the stadium. She strode the bank of the river, the only crazy fool out doing so. Tomorrow was Christmas, and she’d never felt more alone. Or at least, more cognizant of being alone.
Her eyes were gritty from lack of sleep. In Florida, she’d never slept so peacefully as she had with Sarah. Now she could barely sleep at all. But Sarah’s absence had affected more than her sleeping habits; it had left her with a physical pain that was becoming harder and harder to bear. It hurt to breathe. Hurt to walk. Hurt to just be. The only thing she could compare it to was the depth of loss she had felt when her father died.
Maybe Nancy was right. That she wouldn’t give herself permission to be someone’s girlfriend because she was afraid to fail. Afraid she wouldn’t be able to be both a good surgeon and a good partner. Oh, she’d thought all her life how brilliantly her father had pulled off both, but now she understood how wrong she’d been. He’d been a crappy husband, only managing to fool people into thinking otherwise because her mother had so willingly and so adeptly gone along with the dutiful wife act.
It was with a shrewd sense of competitiveness that she’d followed him into medicine. She’d been none too shabby in competing with his legend in the medical field so far, but she could never replicate his perfect home life. She couldn’t ask someone to be a carbon copy of her mother—blindly loving and supportive and willing to settle for very little in return. She didn’t even want a woman like that, if she were honest. No. The only kind of woman who appealed to her was the kind of woman who would challenge her, a woman who was her equal in all the ways that mattered. But how on earth could she possibly do justice to her career and a satisfying home life with the kind of woman she wanted to be with?
Joss stopped at the bank of the river, picked up a stone from the ground and tossed it into the muddy water. It entered with a resounding plop and sank out of sight. That was how her heart felt, like it was falling into an abyss, a place that was frightening and lonely and dark. A place where she did not want to spend the rest of her life.
Tomorrow she’d see her mother for Christmas. Maybe Madeline would have some answers to the questions that were caroming around in her head like a pinball. She couldn’t stop thinking about Sarah questioning why she’d become a doctor, why she’d wanted to emulate a man whose shortcomings seemed so obvious to her now. She hadn’t wanted to think too hard about those questions then, but now she couldn’t stop herself. Had she really only gone into medicine to compete for her father’s attention? To do the only thing she could think that would make him proud? The mountain wouldn’t come to her, so she’d gone to the mountain.
Joss kicked a pebble around like it was a miniature soccer ball, then picked up a stick that’d been well chewed by a dog and tossed it into the river.
She’d been a preteen, maybe twelve or so, when she began seriously thinking about medicine. It was true that her science projects, her toy lab set, were the only things her father seemed to take an interest in. Her basketball playing, soccer…he never once showed up at a game. But oh, he couldn’t get to her statewide science fair competition fast enough. And her first-place ribbon, well, he’d acted like the proud father of a kid who’d just saved the world or something. He took her to work one day when she was fourteen, let her watch one of his surgeries a year after that.
Looking back, it was no mystery that her father had strongly encouraged her journey into medicine. It had been the only thing in her life he’d made time for, the only thing that seemed to connect them. And she’d been only too happy to oblige, because his happiness made her happy. But he’d never once asked h
er if it was what she truly wanted.
What about my happiness? What about what makes me happy? Anger—at him, at herself, at her mother—raged inside until she realized that it was a wasted emotion, that it wasn’t helping her decide anything. The life she’d made for herself… It wasn’t so bad. It was good, it was satisfying. Right? But was she happy? Was it enough? Joss felt her eyes filling with tears. Goddamn Sarah and all her goddamn questions!
Chapter Twenty-Six
A Christmas Eve dinner and a gift exchange was tradition at the Youngs. And while Sarah didn’t feel very festive, she needed to see her father and, finally, be honest with him. No matter what the outcome, she would come clean with him. Her newly minted contract with the furniture store giant was exactly the security blanket she needed, although it was Joss who had really started it all. Joss had got her thinking about her father and not in a pleasant way, and it hadn’t taken her long to realize that Joss had been right. That she couldn’t move on with her life, with her career, couldn’t truly begin to believe in herself, until she risked it all and told her father how she felt. It would, she hope, finally set her on the path to success and fulfillment.
Linda greeted her warmly, wrapping her in a hug. The gesture nearly brought Sarah to tears. If she became estranged with her father, of which there was a good likelihood, she vowed to continue her friendship with Linda.
Peter Young’s greeting was starkly different than his wife’s. He offered an awkward handshake instead of a hug. That was so typical of him. Every time he and Sarah met, they circled each other like strangers in a wrestling ring. Why should Christmas be any different? And worse, why had she hoped he might be different this time? His emotional aloofness was a riddle she’d never solved, but she’d always wondered if the reason was because she reminded him of her mother—the woman who’d abandoned him, leaving him with a young daughter to care for. Or maybe it was because she was so intrinsically different from him—her artistic nature, her easy, outgoing demeanor. For nearly as long as Sarah could remember, there’d been a wall between them, and it had only grown higher over the years when, really, they should have been growing closer. She’d never outgrown feeling cheated, not only of a mother but a father too.
By Mutual Consent Page 19