It was obvious the gossip-hungry waitress was dying to know far more than a mere name, so Jess added, “Evan is an old college friend of mine.”
Evan shot Jess a hard frown.
“Graham.” Marian pursed her too-red lips, which deepened the wrinkles around her mouth. “I don’t believe we have any Grahams in Dove Pond.”
Evan said, “There’s one. She—”
“He’s staying at my motel,” Jess said. “His car broke down so he’s stuck here until it’s fixed, which will be soon.”
Marian eyed Evan with new appreciation. “You must drive that Jag sitting in front of the Parker Garage. I saw it on my way into work today.”
“That’s mine.” Evan smiled politely as he spoke but Jess could tell that his mind was elsewhere, probably mentally rehearsing what he was going to say once Marian left.
That was the thing about Evan. He was an expert in getting people to see things his way, and he rarely spoke unless he’d planned every word and already knew the answer to any possible objection. It was that skill, along with a certain dimple and her heart’s tendency to soften whenever he was around, that had made their marriage uneven in some places, and downright unfair in others.
Jess had learned a lot about herself when she’d started rehabbing houses, mainly that she was a savvy negotiator and an excellent communicator. Sadly, she’d been neither of those in her married life. When it came to personal matters, she couldn’t seem to untangle her thoughts from her emotions long enough to say what she really meant.
When the time came, her ineptitude at expressing herself, coupled with Evan’s tendency to approach every aspect of his life as if he were in a high-powered negotiation, meant that she’d lost almost every argument they’d ever had. Not once in their entire marriage had he ever stumbled or hesitated to say what he thought. Meanwhile, over that same time, she’d forgotten how to do just that.
But no more, she told herself firmly.
She realized the waitress was looking at her expectantly.
Evan leaned forward. “She asked if your motel was open yet.”
“Oh. Sorry. I was just thinking about—” She caught herself just in time. Face warm, she added quickly, “The motel’s not open yet. I made an exception for Mr. Graham as he was stuck, but he’s only staying one night.”
Marian said kindly, “Well, I hear you’re doing wonderful things with that place.”
“She is.” Evan closed his menu and slid it back into its holder. “I’ll have the meatloaf special, too, but with fries and a coffee instead of mashed potatoes and iced tea.”
Marian wrote down his order and then slid the pad and pen back into her uniform pocket. “I’ll bring your drinks right out.” With a last curious glance, she left.
Evan’s gaze locked on Jess. “So now I’m just an old college friend.”
“That’s true.”
His eyebrows lowered. “I was more than that and you know it. Come on. Stop this.” He leaned across the table and captured her hand where it rested beside her mason jar water glass.
A hot jolt rippled up her hand to her arm and beyond. Fighting a gasp, Jess pulled her hand free.
He frowned. “Darn it, Jess. I love you.”
“If love was enough, I’d still be living in Atlanta. But love isn’t enough, Evan. You know that.” She tucked her hands in her lap and leaned back, away from him. “Why are you here?”
“Because I don’t want this divorce. I thought I’d made that clear.”
“What part of our divorce don’t you want? Is it about the money or—”
“No! Nothing like that.” He scowled, looking a little hurt that she’d even suggested such a thing. “Although I don’t like the idea of selling one of our homes.”
Part of their divorce agreement had involved selling one of their three houses. She wanted nothing from her old life. That Jess was gone.
“It’s going to take a while to sell the house.” His blue gaze never moved from her face. “It could take months.”
She sighed. “Brad was right. He told me I should have just asked for the monetary equivalency, as having to wait for property sales could slow down our divorce.”
Evan’s expression froze. “You talked to Brad about our divorce?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” She shrugged. “He didn’t have a lot to say, except that he wasn’t surprised.” She’d known Brad since the year she and Evan had married. During their early years, it had often just been Evan, Brad, and her working into the early hours of the morning, making the most of the business opportunities Evan was so gifted in drumming up. After she’d left the company, she and Brad had stayed friends. They’d met at company events at least every other month, and always spent the time catching up. They also texted each other on birthdays and holidays, and randomly sent each other funny memes. Brad’s offbeat sense of humor reminded her of her oldest brother Jay, who could always make her laugh, even on her darkest days.
Evan’s gaze dropped to his water glass, which he was absently turning in a circle. “Did Brad mention work?”
That was an odd question. “No. Why?”
Evan sighed and leaned back. “I guess I might as well tell you. I’m sure Brad’ll do it the next time he calls. He resigned, Jess. He’s no longer with the company.”
“What?”
Evan winced. “I was shocked, too.”
“When did he leave?”
“Last Friday. And Jess, he went to McTavish.”
“That’s your biggest competitor!”
“I know,” Evan said glumly. “I should have seen it coming; he was upset about a lot of things. Someone at McTavish must have gotten wind of it, because they called him and offered three times what he was making.”
“You didn’t match their offer?”
“I would have, but he didn’t give me the opportunity.”
This time there was no mistaking the hurt she saw in Evan’s eyes. “Ouch,” she said softly.
He flashed a crooked, rueful smile that was more grimace than anything else. “It’s been rough,” he admitted. “He was like a brother to me.”
“You’ve known him a long time. What was Brad upset about?”
“He didn’t say anything when you spoke to him?”
“We didn’t talk very long. He called to ask for that risotto recipe I made at Christmas. I told him about the divorce and he got super quiet.” She shrugged. “He likes both of us, so it put him in a bad spot. He asked what I was going to do and if I had enough money, and then he offered to look through the divorce papers for me, if I felt I needed it. That’s it.”
Evan sighed. “I thought he might have mentioned that he was thinking about leaving the company.”
“Not a word. What happened?”
“A few days before he resigned, he—"
“Here you go!” Marian set down an iced tea for Jess and a cup of coffee and a small bowl of creamers for Evan. “I’ll be back with your meal. Need anything else right now?”
“No, thank you.” Jess barely waited for Marian to head to another table before saying to Evan, “Go on.”
Evan opened three creamers and poured them into his coffee. “Brad and I have been on the outs recently about promotions, new contracts, client expectations—a lot of things. Last week, we finally had it out and he said some things he probably shouldn’t have, and then I said some things I probably shouldn’t have. You know how it goes. But before I could apologize, he left for McTavish.” Evan’s regret was obvious. “I haven’t seen him since.”
Oh no. “I’m sure you’ve tried to call him.”
“At least a dozen times. He doesn’t want to talk to me.” Evan shrugged, although nothing on his face echoed that dismissive gesture.
Jess had to fight the urge to reach across the table and hold his hand. “You miss him.”
Evan’s stiff expression softened, his eyes darkening. “Of course I miss him. He was—is—my best friend.” Evan pulled his coffee forward, cupping it with both h
ands as if savoring the warmth. “Brad said some ugly but true things. But it wasn’t what he said about me or the company that hurt so much; it was what he said about you. He said I never should have let you go. That it was the biggest mistake I’d ever made.” Evan’s mouth thinned.
“He wouldn’t leave the company because of that.”
“There was more to it than that. He said I’d lost my focus. That I was getting too caught up chasing acquisitions, and that the board had become my ‘Little House of Pawns’ and weren’t doing their due diligence. Among other things, he thinks I’ve been spreading our assets too far.”
“You do love a good acquisition.”
“Of course I do,” Evan said impatiently. “That’s what’s made us so successful. And it’s not like I’ve been making those decisions myself. Every time we do an acquisition, I run it by the board and they—”
“—always say yes because they’ve decided you’re some sort of financial wizard who turns everything you touch into gold.”
He scowled. “It’s not like that.”
“They’re yes-men, Evan. Every one of them.”
“They are not,” he shot back, his face reddening. “Our Board of Directors has been lauded for their independence. You know that.”
A few months ago, if Evan had gotten upset or displeased by something she’d said, Jess would have promptly swallowed her own opinion and turned to a more soothing, less controversial topic of conversation. But that was the old Jess.
The new Jess, the one wearing the power dress and who owned her own business, put down her iced tea, letting the mason jar thump on the table with such satisfying firmness that tea sloshed over the lip. “Brad was right about it all, wasn’t he? That’s why you got so mad at him.”
Evan’s expression darkened, but as he opened his mouth to speak, Marian appeared at their table, a tray balanced on one hand. “Two meatloaf specials!” Her bright gaze told Jess that the waitress knew she’d interrupted an argument and was dying to know more.
The waitress set a plate in front of Jess. “Garlic mashed potatoes. And for the gentleman, French fries.” She put Evan’s plate on the table, near but not in front of him. “I see the iced tea is holding up. More coffee?”
“I’m good for now,” Evan said impatiently.
Marian’s eyebrows rose, but she stayed where she was. She put her hand on the bottle of Dot’s Hot Sauce that peeked out of her apron pocket. “Maybe some hot sauce or—”
“We’re fine,” Evan replied tersely, sliding his plate in front of him.
Jess forced a smile. “I’ll have some hot sauce. Thanks, Marian.”
“You’re welcome.” Marian put the bottle on the table as she said pointedly to Jess, “I’ll come back to see if you need anything else.”
“Thank you.”
The waitress looked at Evan, said “Humph!”, turned on her heel, and left.
Evan reached past the hot sauce for the ketchup bottle that was already on the table. He slid the bottle to Jess.
She took the ketchup, opened it, and tilted it over her meatloaf. As she waited for it to pour out, she caught him watching her. “I know, I know. Me and my ketchup.”
“You’ve poured ketchup over every beef dish we’ve ever had, even in Paris.”
“And you hated it.”
“I used to.” His blue gaze met hers. “After you left, every time I opened the fridge, your ketchup was right there in the door where it belonged, waiting for you.”
Darn it, she’d looked into his eyes. This is how I lose. She ripped her gaze from his and locked her attention on her plate, her heart beating so fast her throat felt tight.
“Jess, the ketchup is still in the fridge. It’ll be there when you come home.”
Home. Her heart lurched and she was inundated with memory after memory of her life in Atlanta, of the early years and the good times she and Evan had had. Without trying, she could remember dozens. But all of them are a long time ago. I can’t remember a single one in the last two years.
Not one. “Throw that ketchup away. It’s going to expire.”
His gaze darkened. “I’m leaving it.” He picked up his fork and listlessly took a bite of his meatloaf. Almost like magic an expression of surprised bliss settled on his face. “Oh wow.”
Relieved the conversation had moved to a painless topic like meatloaf, she gave a knowing nod. “Ambrosia, isn’t it?”
He dug in, and she had to admit that it was satisfying to see her opinion validated.
They were quiet for a few minutes as they enjoyed their meal, although the tension between them never lessened. Every once in a while, she could feel his gaze on her, but she kept her attention on her plate.
He finally broke the silence. “Why did you choose to stay in the motel, instead of finding a place closer to your family?”
“They’re not that far away.”
“Staying out of the hot zone, are you?” His smile flickered as he spoke, that damnable dimple as beguiling as ever.
“Barely, but yes.” She dropped her gaze back to her plate and wished she’d never agreed to have dinner with him. It was every bit as painful and awkward as she’d feared it would be.
Silence soon fell again. After several, too-long quiet minutes, Evan put down his fork, the metal clanging against the heavy china. “This is ridiculous. Jess, I didn’t just come here to talk. I brought you something.” He reached into his pocket.
“Evan, don’t—”
His phone rang and he grimaced as he reached into his other pocket instead. His gaze locked on his phone as he silenced the ring, murmuring an absent, “Sorry.”
And there it was. That instant pull he felt whenever someone from the office reached out to him, an almost insatiable desire to swoop in and control every last aspect of his company.
“You should get that.” The words were thick in her throat as she turned her attention to her plate.
“I won’t be long, I promise. I sent a contract back to the office with some comments, and I bet Ash just read them and has a question.”
Jess waved her fork. “Go ahead.” She took a bite of her meatloaf even though she’d lost her appetite the second he’d reached for his phone. Here she sat, waiting on him, just as she’d waited all of those other times.
Darn it, she’d sworn to herself that she wouldn’t be in this position again, and yet here she was—
She suddenly realized Evan wasn’t talking. She peeped up at him.
He was watching her, the phone blinking from where it rested on the table beside his plate.
“I thought you were going to get that.”
“I was going to, but then I saw your face.” He looked at his phone, a deep crease between his brows. “I work too much.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Do you, now?”
He flushed. “I know, I know. We’ve talked about this before. But I have responsibilities, people who count on me. And you know I’m competitive. I’ve always been that way.”
“It’s not bad, being competitive. It was the imbalance of our lives that I hated. When it came down to the company or us, it was always the company.”
“Not always. Damn, Jess. You make it sound as if things were horrible. I’ll admit the last few years weren’t as good as they could have been, but they weren’t terrible.”
But they were terrible. Terribly sad. Terribly lonely. Terribly the same. “Things were good early on, sure. But then two things happened. First, you got too caught up in your work, and second, I stopped telling you what I thought.”
He looked surprised. “You’ve always been honest with me.”
“I was always nice to you. Always polite to you. But I wasn’t always honest.”
“About what?”
“About how angry it made me when you put work before us. Angry, Evan. Really angry.” Her voice quivered with her feelings. “I still get furious every time that stupid phone rings.”
He looked stunned. “Jess…I had no idea it bothered y
ou that much. You should have let me know.”
“I might not have been clear about how angry it made me, but I repeatedly asked you to leave your work at the office, and the answer was always the same.” She lowered her voice and did her best impression of him. “I can’t. I have responsibilities. I’ll only be a moment.”
His eyebrows lowered. “I should have noticed how upset you were.”
“And I should have been more honest. By the time I figured out what was happening to us, the marriage was already gone.”
“Gone? No! What we have isn’t gone. It’s damaged, sure. I messed up, but I can fix this. I’ll change things, Jess. I promise I will.”
Right. And she was a unicorn.
Her disbelief must have shown, because his expression grew dark before he suddenly straightened. “Look.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a box marked Cartier and a heavy cream-colored envelope that bore the logo of their favorite travel agent. “I brought these. I wanted to show you how serious I am about us, about our marriage. We’ll go away, just the two of us. And I promise, there will be no phone, no laptop. Nothing like that.”
She looked at the box and the envelope but didn’t move. Really? He thought he could just throw some bling her way and suddenly everything would be okay? And it wasn’t as if she hadn’t heard this particular promise before, either.
Evan muttered something under his breath, reached over, and opened the box, and then placed it in front of her. A gorgeous sapphire and diamond bracelet twinkled up at her, heavy and luxurious, like something a real princess might wear.
“And look.” He opened the envelope and pulled out two first class tickets, placing them beside the bracelet so she could read the destination. “Paris, Jess. You’ve always loved Paris.” He watched her, his expression so earnest that her heart ached.
This was so hard. She knew he loved her, and she loved him, too. But love wasn’t enough. She’d had that, and it had left her hollow and empty.
She tightened her grip on her fork, and her gaze moved from the gifts to his phone, which even now sat on the table beside his plate. The gifts were lovely, but she hadn’t left him because there weren’t enough gifts or planned vacations. She suddenly realized he was doing with their marriage what he did at work—when there was a problem, he negotiated in the direction he wanted things to go, pushed and pulled until he had what he wanted, and if that didn’t work, then he threw money at it.
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