by Lila James
“Yes. Absolutely. And no, I am not in love with him,” I said, putting emphasis on the in.
Thankfully, Douglas accepted that. We were then able to have a snag-free dinner, even kissing during dessert as several other onlookers shot us annoyed looks. Douglas dropped me off at Liz’s apartment, kissing me before I headed inside. I decided not to spend the night at his apartment again. Not just yet. Since this could possibly become a real relationship after all, I wanted to slow down on all the physical stuff. And to my delight, Douglas agreed.
As I inserted my key into Liz’s apartment door, I heard Stewart’s panicked voice shriek:
“Liz! What the hell has gotten into you?”
I hesitated. If they were having a fight, I didn’t want to interrupt. But if there was anything physical going on, I had to intervene. Not that I thought Stewart would do anything to hurt Liz … especially since he was the one who sounded so panicked. In any case, I decided to enter.
And I immediately regretted my decision. Stewart ran around the living room, stark naked, with the exception of leather chaps around his thighs and midsection. Liz, clad in a skimpy robe, chased him around the couch. I could now see that Stewart looked more amused than terrified, and Liz was laughing as she chased him around the room. They both froze when I entered.
“Adrian,” Liz said, blinking rapidly. “I thought you’d be staying over at Douglas’s place.”
I stood, mouth agape, watching as Stewart uselessly tried to cover himself.
“I didn’t realize your apartment was an S and M parlor,” I finally managed. “But I can go.”
“No, no, no. Sorry,” Liz said quickly as Stewart fled into the privacy of Liz’s bedroom.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, of course. Have a good night.”
Liz escaped to her room before I could say anything further. I stared after her, baffled. Just when you think you know someone, I thought as I headed into my room.
*
A couple of days later, I entered the coffee shop that was serving as Jackson’s and my de facto office while we worked on the article. I was determined to act as if the almost-kiss that we shared in the cab had never happened. Not that I was thinking about it.
Jackson sat hunched over a stack of papers, sipping a cup of coffee, looking handsomely disheveled. Disheveled, I mean. Just disheveled. He barely looked up as I approached.
“Good morning,” I said, determined to be cool yet professional.
“Hey,” Jackson said, looking up from his papers. “Did you get my message?”
“No. I just came right here. Did you call my cell phone?”
“Your office. I already have the couples in place we can talk to. I was going to suggest divide and conquer. You tackle one couple; I tackle the other two. One couple can talk to us today.”
“You already set up the interviews? I thought we were coauthoring this?”
“They were contacts I had left over from my book. I thought I’d save us the work. How about this? You can conduct the interviews.”
“I’m not prepared. I had no idea we were conducting an interview today. This is something you could have brought up the other night, by the way.” I instantly regretted bringing up the other night. The almost-kiss night. Jackson, however, seemed to have suffered from a complete memory wipe because he just shrugged his shoulders.
“You’re right. But it’s spilled milk. How about you take on the other two interviews?”
“Thank you so much, Jackson. I appreciate you letting me have some input in this article.”
Jackson only grinned, getting to his feet as he shrugged into his jacket.
“Are we going now?”
“Yup. Come on. It’s in Queens. There’s this great Greek diner around the corner from their house. We can have lunch there afterward.”
“Queens. Fun,” I said, shrugging back into my jacket.
“You are a regular bundle of sunshine. Let me help,” Jackson said, reaching out to hold my jacket as I slid my arms into the sleeves.
His hands briefly brushed against my shoulders, and I couldn’t suppress the rush of heat I felt at his touch. Forcing myself to think of Douglas, I turned and gave him a quick smile as a thank you.
“Off we go on our field trip,” Jackson said, beaming.
Forty-five minutes later, I was holding onto the rails of the third bus we had gotten on since emerging from the subway.
“I thought you said we were just going to Queens,” I said as the bus made yet another stop.
“We are. It’s just a tad far out, that’s all.”
“How far? Canada?”
“Close,” Jackson replied, the corners of his mouth twitching in a smile.
The bus finally pulled up to a quiet, tree-lined residential street that was as suburban as you could possibly get. Jackson got off, and I followed, eyeing my surroundings. The thing about living in Manhattan for years and years on end is that when you are thrust into a place where you can see trees and sky, you feel as if you are in a parallel universe. Jackson, seeming to sense my discomfort, gave me a bemused look.
“We’re not on Mars. Manhattan is only a few miles away.”
“I know,” I said, nearly walking into a mailbox that was perched on the edge of one of the lawns.
“Jackson! You’re early!” a cheerful male voice called out.
I looked up. Another Jackson strode across the lawn, holding a baby girl, a wide smile on his handsome face. Terrified, I turned to make sure the original Jackson stood next to me. He was, and he watched the other Jackson approach with a big grin. Dear God. What was happening?
“She looks terrified, Jackson,” Jackson Two said with a chuckle as he approached, looking at Jackson One. “You didn’t tell her I was your twin?”
Oh. That made sense. Of course. I knew that. But my shoulders slumped in visible relief, causing both Jackson One and Jackson Two to laugh.
“Adrian,” Jackson One said, still grinning. “This is my brother, Daniel. And this lovely young lady is Samantha. Daniel, Samantha. Meet Adrian Lexley.”
*
As peeved as I was at Jackson for not telling me the interview subjects were members of his own family, I found myself having a good time. Daniel’s wife, Emma, was warm and kind, and when she gazed into Daniel’s eyes, I could feel the genuine connection between them.
“This is going to sound gross. Completely and wholeheartedly disgusting,” Emma said, slipping her hand through Daniel’s. “But my heart stopped when I met Danny. God, I know this is so cheesy. But I just knew he was the One. In my gut. I just knew. And I felt all this glee. No more bad dates, no more frantically checking my cell phone to see if he called, no more wondering if I would ever settle down. Because there he was. Standing right in front of me.”
“Wow,” I whispered. I definitely didn’t have such a eureka moment when I met Marcus.
Jackson arched a cynical eyebrow.
“You’re right. That was disgusting, Emma,” he said with a grin.
Emma stuck her tongue out at Jackson, reaching over to Daniel and swinging Samantha into her arms. She leaned back, looking expectantly at Daniel.
“How did you feel when you first met me, Danny? Like your world was rattled? As if nothing would ever be the same?”
“I thought you had a nice rack,” Daniel replied, ducking as Emma tossed a pillow at his head.
“Be serious!” she chided.
“Remember when you were a little kid—eight, nine years old—on Christmas morning? That glee and anticipation you felt when you ran downstairs, hoping that one gift you wanted was down there? And not only is that one red fire truck down there, but there are also several other things you didn’t even think you’d get? That’s how I felt when I laid eyes on this woman.”
Both Emma and I stared at Daniel, battling tears. Jackson groaned, rolling his eyes.
“Oh God. Back to our article. And please, ease up on the sugary stuff. You’re talking to two cynical New York
ers here.”
“One cynical New Yorker,” I said, shooting Jackson a look as I wiped away a stray tear. “That was sweet.”
“I’m a lucky girl,” Emma said, winking at Daniel.
I was surprised that I didn’t feel the annoyance I usually felt around couples lately. Instead, I just felt comforted being around Daniel and Emma. It was the same comfort I felt when I heard about a couple who had been married for twenty years or fifty years and were still going strong. After all, I was the daughter of bitterly divorced parents and I had been jilted at the altar. I needed a little hope.
I slid a glance toward Jackson, who rummaged through his notes, his brow furrowed in concentration. Now I could see tiny differences between Jackson and Daniel. Jackson had slight worry lines around his eyes, while Daniel had laugh lines. Jackson held himself more rigidly than I’d previously noticed, and Daniel was more relaxed. Hmm.
“Are you going to keep staring at me, or do you want to ask some questions for our article?” Jackson asked pointedly, looking up from his notes.
I flushed but Emma and Daniel only laughed.
“I don’t blame you. He’s a handsome guy. But I am biased,” Daniel said.
“I w-wasn’t staring,” I stammered. “I was just wondering if you were going to ask a question or not.”
“We can tag team. You ask. I ask.”
“That works,” I said, facing my new favorite couple. “How exactly did you two meet?”
“Work, actually,” Emma said. “We both work in advertising, and both of our companies were doing a joint campaign for the launch of a new book line. Danny and I were on the same team.”
“My office has a glass-paned door, so a lot of times it’s hard to tell whether or not anything’s there or not,” Daniel said, trying to stifle his laughter. “Emma walked right into the door, fell onto her ass. When I helped her to her feet, there were all those Christmas morning feelings.”
“In my defense, that glass door really looked like air. No handle or anything,” Emma interjected, but her shoulders shook with laughter.
Jackson and I asked Daniel and Emma some more questions until Samantha began to get restless, and I noticed it was well past lunchtime. But I was reluctant to leave. I really liked being in Daniel and Emma’s presence.
“I do believe we’ve worn out our welcome,” Jackson said.
“Oh, come on, Mr. Workaholic. At least stay for a late lunch,” Daniel coaxed.
“No, little Sam’s exhausted. And I get the feeling Adrian goes through withdrawal if I keep her out of Manhattan for too long,” Jackson said, looking at me with a wink.
“I don’t mind. I’m kind of hungry, actually. A late lunch would be great,” I said before I could stop myself. Daniel and Emma looked delighted.
“It’s three to one, then, Jackson,” Daniel said. “It’s settled. And you’re helping me cook.”
“You sure, Adrian?” Jackson asked, looking more and more hesitant by the second.
“Absolutely,” I said, beaming at Daniel and Emma. “And please, let me help.”
“Out of the question. You’re the guest. Jackson’s family,” Emma said, shifting Samantha’s tiny weight in her arms as she got to her feet. “While the boys slave away in the kitchen, how about you and I have girl talk?”
“Sounds like a plan,” I said, thoroughly enjoying Jackson’s nervous look as I followed Emma out of the living room.
Emma and I headed into Samantha’s nursery. I watched as Emma placed her daughter in the crib, resting her hand on Samantha’s small head. Emma stared down at her baby for a long moment.
“It’s amazing how much I love this kid,” she whispered.
“She’s beautiful,” I said, smiling down at her tiny sleeping form.
“Do you want kids?” Emma asked as we headed out of the nursery.
“I don’t know,” I replied.
Marcus and I had only discussed having children in passing, and neither of us were really certain whether we wanted them or not. We’d decided to wait a few years before we determined what we really wanted. I was starting to see how little we would have been prepared for married life.
“I was the same way a few years ago. I wasn’t sure. And then, not too long after I met Daniel, I don’t know. It seemed right. God, listen to me. I’m one of those women,” Emma said.
“Hardly,” I said, grinning. My friend crush on her was growing.
We settled on the back porch as we listened to Daniel and Jackson joking around in the kitchen.
“How are you enjoying working with my brother-in-law?” Emma asked.
“It’s … interesting,” I hedged as Emma burst into laughter.
“You can be honest with me. I won’t tell.”
“Um,” I said, watching Jackson through the kitchen window. “He’s a bit overly confident. But he’s a nice guy.”
“Oh, please. You don’t have to butter me up. I thought he was arrogant when I first met him. But I can assure you, it’s all a front. He’s kind and he has a very big heart. Since he’s still in the midst of his fifteen minutes of fame with the book, his cocky persona has been sort of a shield for him. Because God forbid the world knows the real Jackson.”
I glanced back over at the window to where Jackson was stirring something in a pot. He looked up at me and gave me a flirtatious wink. A front? I doubted it. The man seemed to be in love with his own shadow.
“It just takes time for him to open up to people,” Emma said, as if reading my mind. “That’s all.”
Thirty minutes later, we were all gathered around a small table in the kitchen, eating lunch. Usually when I ate over at a stranger’s house, I was compelled to be super well mannered and repeatedly compliment the host on the food (every time I went to Marcus’s parents’ home in New Jersey, for instance). But with Daniel and Emma, I felt as if I were snuggled on my own couch with a bag of Doritos and wine.
The atmosphere changed when Daniel was in the midst of telling a humorous story about a celebrity who came into his advertising agency a couple of weeks prior.
“He’s this big action star, you know, and all the women are getting weak-kneed and light-headed. And I’m thinking I can handle his presence because I’m a guy. But as soon as he walked by my office, I started feeling faint. And I usually don’t feel faint. I mean, the last time I felt faint was at Jackson’s wedding.”
Daniel instantly stopped himself. Emma looked down at her plate. Jackson’s face flamed with irritation. And I couldn’t help it—my morbid curiosity needed to be satisfied.
“Jackson was married?” I asked.
Now both Emma and Daniel looked at Jackson, as if waiting to see how he would proceed.
“Is married?” I continued, both nosily and recklessly, I must admit, but my curiosity over Jackson’s romantic past was killing me.
“For someone who doesn’t want to discuss her broken engagement, you’re awfully nosy, Adrian,” Jackson said, throwing down his napkin as he stood up. And now it was my turn to fight back anger as Daniel and Emma both turned sympathetic looks in my direction.
“Jackson. Please sit down. Danny didn’t mean to bring all that up,” Emma said.
“No, it’s fine. I think I should go,” I said, still hurt over Jackson’s biting remark.
“Both of you. Sit down. Please. You’re our guests. We insist that you stay. Please,” Daniel pleaded, looking back and forth between our tense faces.
Jackson and I did manage to finish our meal, albeit in uncomfortable silence. As angry as I was at Jackson for bringing up my engagement, curiosity still plagued me. Had Jackson also been jilted at the altar? Was he still married? Divorced? Separated? Widowed? And why was he so determined not to bring it up? What was the big deal?
“It looks like Adrian’s head is about to explode with unanswered questions, so I suppose we should head out,” Jackson said, using his uncanny ability to read my mind.
“I’m thinking about another article I have to finish tomorrow, actually,
” I lied, smiling at Daniel and Emma.
“Right. Well, thank you two for the interview and the meal. We’ll be heading out,” Jackson said, not falling for my lie.
“It was our pleasure.” Daniel rose to his feet. “And I’m sorry for—”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” Jackson interrupted. “Adrian? Are you ready?”
We said our goodbyes and left. We ended up taking a long and ultimately silent cab ride back into the city.
“You know, if you just tell me what happened, we can drop it and go on with our lives,” I blurted as the cab approached Liz’s apartment building.
“Would you like to go into detail about what Marcus told you minutes before your wedding, right before you fled from the church?” Jackson returned.
“Point taken,” I muttered, closing my eyes to stave off the painful memory. “And I really wish you would stop bringing that up.”
As we pulled up to Liz’s building, Jackson took out his phone, smiling at something on the screen. I saw that it was a message from Katerina, and my stomach tightened.
“I’ll talk to Jean,” Jackson said, still smiling over the message as he looked up to meet my eyes.
“Talk to Jean? About what?” I asked, my hand on the door handle.
“About us working separately. I don’t really think there’s any need for us to continue working in person together. Do you? I mean, it can be like you initially suggested. E-mail, phone, all that. You can tackle an interview, I tackle another one. How’s that sound?”
“That sounds great,” I said, forcing a smile.
“We’ll talk next week about the remainder of the interviews and the article. But I think I have it pretty much covered,” Jackson said, raising his phone to his ear. “Hi, sweetheart. No, I got caught up. I’m on my way.”
I got out and didn’t even bother to watch as the cab pulled away, feeling oddly desolate, but I didn’t know why. I mean, I’d no longer have to deal with the smug, arrogant, secretive, hurtful Jackson Taylor. This was actually great news. Terrific, even. I tried to summon up relief. Contentment. Happiness. Now I could move on with my life in peace.