by Mia Moore
“Now wait a goddamn minute-”
“YOU WAIT! You've spun me bullshit since Friday night, and you're trying to spin more right here!” She pointed her finger in his face. "You LIED to me!" She let that hang in the air, and continued. "I may not have a PhD, but I can sure tell when someone's been hurt, Craig.
Don't you think that I've been hurt? You think my boyfriend’s screwing around on me didn't hurt? Didn't cause me to lose trust in men for a long time? Guess what Craig, that's life!”
“I just need some space! Is that too much to ask?”
“I'll give you all the space you want! Don't you worry!” Tears started to run down her face.
He watched her silently. A part of him wanted to take her in his arms and never let go. Another part pushed her far away.
“I’m twenty-six Craig. I don’t have time or patience for this. I want to be with you. But it’s your choice. You’ve got to figure this out. Do you want to take a chance on happiness? Or is the risk of hurt too big?
“Y’know I’ve dated a lot of guys. But I’ve never been touched by them as you’ve touched me. I love being with you. I can’t promise that we’d never go through some rough spots but one thing I CAN say is that I don’t need you Craig. I have a pretty decent life. I make good money; I have friends and family and pretty much do as I please. If I’m with you, it’s because I CHOOSE to be with you.”
Craig's stony silence was both aggravating and heartbreaking for her. Damn this poor guy anyway!
“Craig, you’ve got to figure out what you want. Because this come to me and then push me away thing, isn’t fair to anyone – me, you or any other woman you may consider being with. Think about it. Take the week. I want to know by next Sunday. No- I am GOING to know by next Sunday, one way or another!”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes! Really! Let me ask you a question- how long did you take to decide to buy this townhouse?”
“About an hour.”
“That was a pretty big decision.”
“Yeah? So?”
“This is a bigger decision, I think. It is for me. And I'm giving YOU a week. Next Sunday night. By midnight- not seven AM Monday, not 12:05 AM either, for that matter. If you can't figure out just how damn special we are for each other by midnight of NEXT week, then we're not special.
It would have been MY mistake for thinking we were.”
“Jessica I’m sorry…I just don’t know if I can do this…”
“Well you know where I stand. Call me in a week if you decide to take a chance on us. I'll let myself out.”
Craig watched her leave.
Heartbroken, she climbed in the taxi which was still waiting.
“So, it didn't work out, huh?” Danny said.
“I don't know, Master of The Universe,” she replied sullenly.
“Call me Danny, doll, I was messin' with ya.”
“Just messin' back Danny.” She sighed.
“Where to?”
Jessica gave him her home address, and he flicked on the meter. She saw the twenty tucked under it.
“You didn't run your meter?”
“Naw… I just put myself back on duty. If I got a call, I'd tell 'em I just picked up a fare off the street, and THEN I'd start the meter. You were fair wit' me, and I just returned the respect, see?”
He sounds like he just left the set of The Soprano's. He sure doesn’t have a Toronto accent. Nevermind.
“So, not too good for you and your guy, huh?”
“How'd you know it was a guy?” Jessica teased.
“That's Mike Evan's house, I read his books. And he tips pretty good too.” Danny eyed her in the mirror.
“Oh. Well, not so good maybe… I'll know in a week.”
“Gonna be a tough week for ya then, huh doll?”
Jessica nodded silently.
“Well, I got some cabbie wisdom for ya then.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. TWO weeks from now, next week's pain in the ass will be a memory, see?”
She thought about that for a moment. He was right. Life would go on.
“Thanks, Danny.”
“Don't mention it.” And he drove her home.
Chapter 15
Craig felt his heart sink as he watched her leave. He went into his living room and flopped down into his favorite chair, thinking about their conversation. She was right about one thing he admitted to himself, the situation wasn’t fair to either of them. Not to Jessica. She deserved better than he had given her. Not to himself.
Faces of the women who had been in his life flashed before his eyes- Mom, Maureen, Heather and Josee. All had left him. And now Jessica was gone. How had he let her slip through to touch his heart? And he knew. She wasn’t like other women he had dated, even Josee. There was no agenda on her part; she was just Jessica. Smart, funny, and sexy as hell. Isn't that what they'd call a good woman?
Why can’t we just be friends? Why is she putting this pressure on me, demanding an answer in a week? What the hell! Who does she think she is?
The phone rang and he rushed to get it, thinking it was Jessica apologizing. He sighed when call display showed that it was Bob. Craig turned and walked back into the kitchen to get a beer.
Let him leave a message. I’ll call him later when I feel like talking. He knew that Bob was probably calling to firm up plans for their trip to New York the following day. They were to fly out at nine in the morning, to be there for the afternoon meeting with Doubleday.
Craig finished his beer and went upstairs to pack for his trip.
***
Early the next morning, Craig pulled up in front of Bob’s house and parked his car. He had offered to give Bob a lift to the airport since it was on the way. The front door of the two story brick home opened and Craig saw Bob and Marie walking hand in hand down the walkway towards him.
For what had to be the hundredth time, Craig checked out Marie. She was about two inches taller than Bob, and that was when she was wearing sneakers. Where Bob was portly, Marie was 'healthy'. Five decades of life and two children had taken their toll. She was generous' in the hip department, her tummy had matured into a little belly, and Craig could see age spots on her hands. Her once firm facial features had lined and softened.
As they walked to the car, Marie was rubbing Bob's forearm. Craig knew she detested Bob's business trips. There weren't many, especially since he had become an editor over ten years ago and since Craig had met Bob's family. She was going to miss him, and he was going to be home tomorrow! Wouldn't she just like a break or something?
Finishing their quiet conversation they approached the car. “Okay, record it, and we'll watch it tomorrow, okay?” Bob said.
“Sure, hon,” Marie replied.
Craig got out of the car to hug Marie as Bob opened the door and tossed his laptop and overnight bag into the back seat beside Craig's luggage.
“Hi Marie. How are you? I haven’t seen you for way too long!”
Marie looked up at him and said “I keep asking Bob about you. Bugging him to ask you for dinner.”
“Oh Marie, he’s the swinging bachelor. Too busy for old married farts like us.” Bob said as he kissed Marie goodbye.
“Not true. I love seeing you guys. It’s his fault. He’s the slave driver, cracking the whip.” Craig replied.
“Be careful you two and good luck with Doubleday” she said as the men got into the car.
Craig looked over at Bob after he pulled away from the curb. “How’d an ugly guy like you land such a great gal?”
“I’m great in the sack.”
“No, I mean it- how the hell did it happen, and how the hell has it lasted for you?”
“It was weird” Bob said. “She was pissed off at me when it started.”
“What? You kidding?”
“No. I was just a stringer for The Star, fresh out of school when I landed the job. I was working days teaching English as a second language. At night I did the police beat for the Metro
section. There was a bad drunk driving accident- kids after their high school formal. I went to the hospital where they took the survivors. It was pretty bad.
"Marie was charge nurse for the ER and kicked me out! All I needed was a list of names and ages and I could go on my way. She chewed me out and tossed me. I was embarrassed but the cops saw her ream me out and they wouldn't give me nothing either. They backed her up. I wasn't going to argue with men with guns and blood on THEIR uniforms, you know what I mean?”
“Good call. Get to the point, bro.”
“I was pissed off, man,” Bob continued, “But I hung back for a couple of minutes and got her off to the side when the kids were stable. I tried the whole 'Public and the right to know' crap with her, and she shot that down fast. Then she told me to grow a pair of balls. Write how kids being stupid cared more what their friends would think, than how their Mom could grieve when they got in a car with a drunk driver. Oh God she was pissed. 'Why don't you try to teach instead of report?' she said.
That hit a nerve.
We went back and forth, and I got her to let me back into the ER. There was a mother whose daughter was going to live, who spoke to me. The kid's face was all torn up, but she was alive, and the Mom was heartbroken. Not for her kid, but for her kid's best friend's mother. Those two women had bounced back and forth to each other's houses for more than ten years- birthday parties, trips to the zoo, crap like that.
Except the best friend's mom was at the morgue, getting her daughter's body.”
Bob stopped, reliving the scene.
“So I took some notes and left. It was tough Mike. I just wanted to write some crap about drinking and driving, you know, 250 word blurb kind of thing.
I went back to my place- hell, my parent's place, I was a kid still, y'know?- and wrote 2,500 words about that Mom.
Submitted it, fought with MY editor, and he ran it.
The next night, I went back to that ER to ask Marie out. She looked at me like I crawled out from under a rock.
I handed her the paper my article was in. It was on the front page. I told her to read it.
She said she was too busy.
I told her I'd wait, and went to the waiting room.
The ER was jumping, but two hours later- yeah, I waited, she's good looking now, Mike, but oh man, I'd have spent the entire night on those crappy chairs if I had to.
Eventually she came out, holding the paper. She had tears in her eyes. She said I understood.
I told her, she taught me.
She's been teaching me ever since, man.
That night she taught me how to be a reporter.
I got a promotion to staff writer, when we started dating. It was because of that article and also because I believed in that article and stood up for it to a veteran editor for it. I got some balls too, y'know. Bob laughed.
I got promoted to editor, and asked her to marry me.”
Bob looked off. “When she's pissed, I listen up, I guess.”
He turned back to Craig. “So- how's your love life, Mike?”
“Jessica's pissed at me.”
“Face to face or did she leave you a note like that other woman did?”
“Face to face. Oh boy, face to face.”
Bob stayed silent. He and Marie were from a different time, twenty years ago. Mike was just a kid, and this Jessica chick was even younger. They'd have to figure it out, and he didn't feel comfortable talking to Mike about this woman. That Josee girl had seemed great, and look what happened. They arrived at the airport shooting the breeze about sports.
They spent the flight to New York firming up their strategy for the Doubleday meeting.
***
It was late in the afternoon when Craig and Bob finished their meeting. They stood on the sidewalk outside the Doubleday office building congratulating themselves on how well they had done. A contract had been signed for Craig’s new book, and Bob was still his editor, working under the Doubleday banner.
Bob flagged a cab to take him to the airport. The meeting had gone well and he was able to change his flight to surprise Marie with the news. Bob was excited as a kid at Christmas- the move to Doubleday was enough of a pay bump that they could do a family vacation this summer as well as lock up their daughters’ education expenses.
He wished Mike the best of luck with the Times the following day. They shook hands and pounded each other's back before Bob jumped into the cab. He couldn't wait to get back home to his family.
Craig decided he needed some fresh air and exercise and walked the four blocks to his hotel, the St. Moritz. His stomach was rumbling with hunger as he strode along the sidewalk. When he entered the lobby, he headed for the restaurant before checking in. He had a couple of beers with a ‘Noo Yawk’ Pastrami on Rye. He wolfed his sandwich down- his appetite was returning; the last few days had been rough.
From his seat at the bar, nursing a Bailey's and coffee he noticed a woman enter. She was a tall attractive blond wearing a close fitting red dress that hugged her hips and ignored most of her shapely thighs. Her eyes glanced around the bar and she smiled when her eyes met Craig’s.
She walked slowly to him. “Do you mind if I join you?” Not waiting for an answer she slid onto the barstool next to him. “Mmm, that looks good! What are you drinking?”
“Just coffee and Bailey’s, and yes it is good.” He thought for a moment and said, “Oh what the hell- would you like one?”
“Thanks.” She smiled at Craig and gently squeezed his hand. “Just what the doctor ordered. You must be a doctor, are you?”
“No, and I bet you aren’t a nurse.”
“Nahh…just a lonely lady lookin’ for a good time. I bet you’d like a good time” she said, keeping her hand on his.
“Yeah, for a price, right?”
“Well, nothing’s free in this life, sugar.” Her other hand had dropped down to his lap and began to glide up and down the fabric of his slacks, each stroke a tantalizing hint of things to come. “And I'm worth every dollar,” she murmured.
“Isn't the phrase worth every penny?”
The pressure on his thigh grew stronger. “This is New York, baby- go big or go home. And how big are you?” Her hand crept over.
Craig took her wrist from his lap before she crossed into ‘Oh Man's’ land and placed it on the bar.
“Hey!” She said.
Craig appraised her silently. She was attractive, no doubt about that. Money wasn’t a concern either- he had done very well on the book advance. Maybe blow off some steam- celebrate today’s success?
He stood up, threw some bills on the bar and picked up his bags.
The woman began to stand up as well, and Craig put his hand on her shoulder, stopping her.
“Sorry Miss, not tonight; I have a headache.” He left her in the bar, checked in at the front desk and went to his room.
He tossed his bags on his bed. Headache? Yeah right.
Heartache was more accurate. He knew that with a flick of his finger, that hot sex machine downstairs could have been with him right then. And she'd be busy at work doing ANY and EVERYTHING TO and FOR him right this minute. And he was completely and totally uninterested.
“Crap.” He went into the bathroom and took a cold shower.
He decided he'd celebrate his book deal alright. He'd have a pizza brought up! Yeah. With extra cheese. Yeah! And with anchovies! He hated anchovies, but they were expensive as hell, so why not.
And beer. Yeah. European beer. No! European micro brewery beer. He'd find out from room service what was the most expensive beer they had, and order six! Yeah!
And he'd watch TV! No! He'd rent a movie! Yeah! And what the hell about their price gouging for a cable movie in the hotel- he has a book deal! Yeah!
He spent the evening pampering his solitary self, and that was just goddamn fine dammit. Honest.
***
Jessica did not go to work on Monday. The kind and considerate Jessica Rogers had been kidnapped by aliens and w
as replaced with THE DRAGON LADY.
She had a lousy night’s sleep and woke late. The alarm clock (which she had forgotten to set) hadn’t gone off. Shit.
Scurrying around her apartment to get ready for work, she didn’t have time for coffee. And on a morning that she really needed COFFEE. Shit again.
She emerged from her apartment building in time to see the bus she normally took, pulling away from the stop. She’d missed it! SHIT.
After waiting ten minutes for another, she arrived at her office building, now a full hour late. And Jessica was one of the most punctual people she knew, for God’s sake. SHIT AGAIN.
The elevator to her floor was, as always, late. When it finally arrived, she squeezed herself into the crowded space and bitched aloud about its perpetual tardiness.
An innocent in the back of the crowded elevator foolishly muttered. “Someone has a real bad case of the Mondays.”
The Dragon Lady snarled. “Oh! Doctor Phil! I didn't see you there! Can you fix the elevator please?”
Finally, deposited on her floor, she elbowed her way out and stomped to her office, passing silently by Brenda who chirped “Good Morning.”
Jessica opened her office door, muttering, “What’s good about it?”
She entered, slammed the door shut and tossed her laptop on the desk. She hung up her coat and then flopped down in her chair.
There was a soft tap at her door.
“WHAT!”
The door opened a crack, and a wide eyed Brenda poked her head around. “Hey, Jessica…”
“What?”
“That's what I'm wondering. What are you doing here?”
“What? What are you-”
Oh shit. I booked today off!
Closing her eyes, she recalled her original plan. If the weekend went well, she was going to join Craig in New York! When he had gone to Vancouver for his Honorary PhD, he had asked her to join him but she had to beg off. She was going to surprise him on Saturday.
I completely forgot because of his bullshit! Arrrgh!
A tear escaped her eye. She was going to treat him to a horse drawn carriage ride in Central Park… She was going to kiss him at The Empire State Building… just like the movie… They were going to…