by Louise Bay
We pulled up in front of Nicola’s building just before midnight and I cut the engine.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come in? I could do with a little company,” she said.
Part of me wanted to spend the night with her. To lose myself for a couple of hours, to get a break from having a head full of Haven, but I couldn’t do that to Nicola. I’d had a really nice evening and genuinely enjoyed myself, but before I started something new I needed to clear some space in my head.
“Another time? You’re great but—”
“Your head’s somewhere else?” she suggested.
I nodded. Had she guessed I was distracted by another woman? I couldn’t imagine it happened to her very often. She was beautiful, clever, funny. She just wasn’t Haven. “I had a really great time,” I said.
She leaned across and kissed me on the cheek. I watched as she made her way into her building. When the door closed behind her, I pulled out my phone. Still no response from Haven. She and Gerald had left the restaurant before us. Should I call her? Just to check she was okay? I dialed.
“Jake, what is it?” I hadn’t expected her to pick up. It was the first time she had since the weekend after Paris.
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay, and to offer you a ride home.” Jesus, I sounded like a douche.
“Thanks. Of course I’m fine, I don’t need a lift.” Her voice was softer with me than it had been when we’d first arrived at the restaurant. Was that the alcohol? Was she drunk? Was Gerald still there?
“Are you sure? It would be no trouble.” I wanted her to tell me she was at home already, or in a cab on her own.
“I’m sure—and you don’t want to be rude to your date,” she said.
“I just dropped Nicola at home,” I said. “So, you’re not in a ditch?”
“I’m not in a ditch,” she replied, giving me nothing.
“Are you at home?” I asked.
“Where else would I be?” She hung up the phone.
I grinned as I slung my cell onto the dash. Had she deliberately used my proper name? Something in my gut fluttered. I’d missed our jousting.
“How was it?” Beth asked as I joined her on the sofa. “I wasn’t sure if you would be back.”
“Yeah, good. Nicola’s great but my head is spinning at the moment. I need to work some stuff out,” I said. “How was your date with Saturday night TV? Have you ever thought you should go out, like with a real-life person?” I asked her. “I mean, things have been good for a while now. Do you want me to set you up?” Beth had been sober for over two years and she seemed happy, but I was worried that she had shut down after what had happened with her ex-boyfriend.
Beth scowled at me. “No, you weird brother slash pimp.”
I tapped her foot with my knee. “I’m not expecting you to have sex with my friends for money.” I rolled my eyes at her. “I just know some good guys who periodically tell me you’re hot. I punch them in their face when they say it, obviously, but, you should think about maybe going on a date or something.”
She took a breath. “I’m not ready,” she said softly, concentrating on the television.
“What does your sponsor say? She must have mentioned it. It’s been nearly three years.”
“Can you drop it? I said I’m not in that place yet. And anyway, you’re hardly a glowing recommendation for dating. Have you ever made it past three months?”
“I’m a guy. What can I say?” I said, trying to brush over her point.
“You can say that you’re a commitment-phobe with bad taste in women.” Beth was always needling me about not being able to get past the three-month mark. Wasn’t I just living most guys’ fantasies?
“So what’s the problem—my taste in women, or my inability to commit?”
“Both.”
I threw a pillow at her.
“I like Haven,” she said. “I know I’ve only met her briefly, but she seemed different from those other girls you date. And I like how tied up she’s got you.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond. Haven was different, that was for sure. “I’m not sure she’s got me tied up.”
Beth raised her eyebrows. “And before you tell me she doesn’t like you and that she’s moved on or whatever excuse you’re formulating, she does like you. I could tell at the gallery and it doesn’t matter what shit’s happened. If she’s the right girl for you, then fight for her. Stop making excuses.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Well, you see, I think it is. You can make it that simple. You’re good at that, Jake. You’re good at getting things you want.”
“Things yes, but not people. If I was, we’d still be a family.” A wave of regret swept over me when I thought about what we didn’t have back in Chicago. At one time, we’d been the archetypal American family.
“How did you work that out? You can’t control people. You weren’t responsible for Mom getting shot any more than I was, and you’re not in control of the fact Dad finds it all too difficult to handle and doesn’t know how to be with us. We are a family, Jake. It might be just you and me, but we’re still a family and you made that happen.”
“Beth,” I warned. She knew I didn’t want to get into this. I never did. It was too painful.
“What, you can start pushing me on dating, but I can’t call you on your shit? I mean it. I think you deliberately pick women you know it’s not going to work out with so you don’t have to feel responsible for anyone else.”
I let Beth’s words sink in. Was she right? I knew I picked women who didn’t require much emotional investment from me, but I’d never really thought about why. “Jesus, I need a drink. Why the fuck don’t we have a single bit of booze in this apartment?” I asked, grinning at her.
“Because I’m an alcoholic, dickhead.”
“Oh yeah. That must be it.” We both laughed. “Wow, we can joke about it. Who’d have thought?”
I stood, ruffled her hair and headed to bed. I’d never connected my short-term relationships with anything other than being a guy. Was Beth onto something? Perhaps I held off on anything I couldn’t control.
Maybe I’d given up on Haven too easily.
Eighteen
Haven
“Morning, Haven,” Jake said as he sat down opposite me for our usual Monday morning meeting.
“Hi Ja—Harry.” I’d lost track of what I should be calling him and why. He was Jake to me, but somehow that felt too intimate to say.
“Have a good evening on Saturday?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you. Did you?” Did you kiss her, touch her, take her to bed?
“Yes, very enjoyable,” he replied.
“I’m sure,” I mumbled. Jake grinned and I couldn’t bear to think about what had caused his smile. I tried to catch my breath, to push down the panic in my chest. He wasn’t hers . . .
“When’s your next date?”
“Tomorrow night, if you’re free, and the final one on Thursday.” I tried to sound breezy. I wanted to get this over with. Dating with Jake hovering just made my feelings for him refresh. I needed distance from him.
“You’re packing them in.”
“It’s work, Harry.” For some reason I wanted to reassure him these weren’t proper dates—even if he seemed relaxed, as if we had never been anything, part of me wanted him to understand that I could never be so casual, I could never move on so quickly.
“And when’s the super date?” he asked.
“Saturday. I need to write it up on Sunday. Our big celeb feature for next week has pulled out and Robert asked me to move this up.” Finishing off this article so quickly would be a challenge, but I was excited that Robert had trusted me. I wanted to be the one he could rely on to get him out of a hole. The more he felt that, the better my chances of promotion. “I might just see if Gerald is free, then if he can’t make it, choose one of the others.”
“You liked Gerald then?”
I shrugged, trying to keep my eyes
on my to-do list. How did he switch into friends mode so easily with me? Asking about my dates as if we were nothing to each other. As though we had never had anything.
Robert took his seat between Jake and me.
“Great job on the Sandy Fox piece, you two. Did Haven tell you the first part is running next week?”
“No, she didn’t. I’m glad you’re pleased with it, but Haven did all the hard work,” Jake replied.
“I wouldn’t have got the story if you hadn’t been there, Harry, we both know it,” I said.
“Well, it’s an excellent job. If you ever want to give up making millions to come and be a full-time staff photographer, consider yourself hired.”
Jake laughed. “Thanks, I’ll bear it in mind, but no promises. In fact, I’m out from the end of next week, I’m afraid. I’ve got to fly to Palo Alto again, and then all my attention has to be focused on Elemental Energy.”
I swallowed at Jake’s announcement. I’d known it was coming. The new guy was about to start. But now the time had arrived and I didn’t feel prepared. There would be no reason for me to see Jake once he left Rallegra. My heart was thundering through my chest. Confronted with the reality of Jake being gone, I realized that it was the last thing I wanted. My mind started racing, trying to find reasons to make him stay, for excuses to see him. Perhaps he would have another exhibition I could go to? My breath became shorter as my panic increased. This was all my fault. I’d pushed him away, blamed him for things that he wasn’t responsible for. I needed to find a solution, to convince him to be in my life in some way. I’d never experienced anything like I had with Jake and I’d just ended things assuming I would be okay and life would move on. But I couldn’t imagine anyone ever knowing me like he seemed to.
I dared a glance up at him to find him looking at me. I tried to blank my thoughts, concerned he could read my anxiety. I couldn’t seem to look away, scared that if I did, he would disappear. The corners of his mouth turned up and I remembered what his lips could do to my body, how his tongue elicited sounds from me I didn’t know I could make, how he seemed to free a part of me with his touch. I squirmed in my seat and his grin deepened. It was as if he could see what I was thinking. A familiar warmth spread across my cheeks. I dug my fingers into my hair, pulling strands out of the pins. I needed to think, to breathe.
I stumbled out of the meeting, desperate for air and needing a plan.
“Jake, I mean Harry,” I called as he passed my cubicle, wanting time with him before he left for good.
“I want you to call me Jake,” he replied as he leaned against the entrance of my work area. I wondered why he wore his shirts like that, without a tie, open, and hinting at the hard body beneath the fabric. A body I’d seen in all its glory in Paris. A body that made my body sing.
“That was before, you know . . .”
“No, it’s forever. Call me Jake.” Forever.
I had no answer to that. “I just wondered if you wanted to see the Sandy article mocked up?”
“Sure.” He came toward me and put a hand on the back of my seat. He leaned over me, placing his other hand on my desk. He was just inches from me and I was hyperaware of every last molecule of him. He smelled delicious—a mixture of clean laundry and an unmistakable scent of warmth and passion. I tried to concentrate and brought up the Sandy article for him.
He leaned farther forward, and his arm brushed against my shoulder. I froze, desperate to feel more of him, terrified he’d see what I was thinking. Was he doing this on purpose? Tiny flickers of energy buzzed in my stomach. I inched away so there was a little more room between us. The man would swallow me whole if I wasn’t careful.
I looked up at him. He was scanning the screen, obviously interested in what he was reading. It reminded me of the way he’d examined the sculptures in the Rodin Museum. My heart ached. Was there any way back for us?
“I like the way you write,” he said. “It’s funny and quirky—irreverent even. It’s the Haven I know. Not the Rallegra Haven.”
I closed my eyes. What he said hurt—it showed me again how wrong I’d been to push him away. He saw me. His observation was something Ash had said to me before. I twisted my mouth to hide the smile pushing through my pain. I liked that he saw the difference, that he knew that side of me. I hated that I’d messed things up between us so badly.
“Your photographs are excellent, Jake. Thank you for giving up your time.”
“It was my pleasure,” he said. He stood up, removing his hands and his body from almost touching me. A physical loss gripped me in my stomach. “So, tomorrow is the next date. Do you want me to come over first and do the pre-date photos like last time?”
“Actually, no, I don’t think we need to this time.” I couldn’t live through that again. It was just too difficult to have him in my apartment when we weren’t together. Too intimate. It had me mentally running through what could have been. “I’ll text you to let you know where we’re going to meet.”
“Okay. Well, you know where I am,” he said.
“Thanks,” I said.
Don’t leave me.
Tuesday’s date was with Louis Romano. I had left it to Paula to pick out my dates, but from his application, he didn’t seem anything close to my type. He was older and shorter than what I typically found attractive. But it didn’t matter. This was work. Gerald wasn’t available this Saturday and I was on a deadline, so I was hoping that Louis or my date on Thursday would be bearable enough to have a second date with.
Louis had wanted to pick me up, but I had insisted I meet him at our venue. He had mysteriously said that he would see me at the bottom of the London Eye.
As my cab pulled up at the drop-off point for the huge Ferris wheel at the edge of the Thames, Jake was waiting. He took photographs of me stepping out of the cab.
“Hey, how did you know I’d be here? Or are you meeting your date for the evening?”
“This is the drop-off point, so call me a genius but I guessed this was where you’d be dropped off. You look beautiful as ever,” he said.
I’d let my hair down and decided on a dress that Ash convinced me to buy three months ago. I’d never worn it because it had an abstract print on it that seemed a bit too much, but I’d thought Jake would like the color.
“So, have you arranged for your date to meet you here again?” I asked.
“Nope.” Jake grinned at me as if he had a secret he wasn’t sharing.
What was he thinking? I pulled my eyes from him and headed toward the Eye, a towering white spider’s web that looked as if it had captured the London skyline as its next meal. There was a chill in the spring air as the sun started to go down. I shivered.
As we neared the Eye, I could see Louis. He was even shorter than I’d expected and the photograph I’d seen was clearly taken a few years ago.
“Louis Romano is your date?” Jake asked.
“Yes.” I snapped my head around to look at him. “Why, do you know him?”
“The guy is a gold-plated asshole.” Jake was obviously tense, something I’d never seen before. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes narrowed in my date’s direction.
“I’m sure he’s fine,” I said, trying to say something that would calm him.
“Seriously, I don’t think you should do this . . .”
Before Jake could elaborate, we arrived.
“Haven Daniels, I presume. You look even more beautiful than in your photograph.” Louis grasped my hand and leaned forward to kiss my knuckles as if we had time-warped back a hundred years. It was uncomfortable, and I took my hand back as soon as I was able.
“Pleased to meet you, Louis. Let me introduce our photographer, Harry.”
“Ahhh, but we need no introduction. Mr. Harrison and I are old friends.”
“We’re not friends, Romano. I had no idea Haven’s date was with you, or I would never have allowed it.”
“Jake! You don’t get a say. Please don’t be rude or I’ll have to ask you to leave.” T
his was a Jake that I’d never seen before. Where was it coming from? It wasn’t like him. Even if he were jealous, which seemed highly unlikely, there was no need for his reaction.
“Can I have a word?” Jake asked me.
I looked to Louis, who put his hands up in defeat.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I will just be a second.” I marched away from Louis and heard Jake follow. I stopped and then I turned to him.
“Jake, you’re behaving like the gold-plated arsehole at the moment. This is work, as I keep telling you. What is your problem?” I was furious. I couldn’t risk Louis giving up and leaving. I was on a deadline and Paula had confirmed he was available on Saturday if I wanted a follow-up date with him. Was he deliberately trying to hurt me? Trying to pay me back for not forgiving him?
“I know this guy. He’s bad news. He’s mixed up in all sorts of things that I don’t want you to be a part of. I don’t trust him.”
“What sort of things?” I asked. What had Jake so concerned? And how could they affect me?
“I . . . I can’t tell you. I just—” Stuttering replaced Jake’s confidence. It felt so unlike him.
“It’s one evening,” I said.
“But if you knew—”
“Stop. Please don’t bring your personal issues into this. What is your problem? Anyone would think you were jealous or something?” I desperately wanted him to be.
“No, that’s not it. Well, maybe I am, but that’s not the reason I want you away from Romano. I wouldn’t want anyone I cared about going anywhere near this guy. He’s bad news. He’s hurt people close to me.”
I shouldn’t have been concentrating on the bit where he said he cared about me, but those were the words that were chasing each other round my head. How did he care about me? As a friend? As something more? I glanced over at Romano. I didn’t want to upset Jake, but I wasn’t going to walk away from this article.
“I don’t know what to say, Jake.” I had no real reason to believe Jake would overreact unnecessarily, but Romano and I weren’t getting involved, we were just spending an evening together. There was nothing to be upset about. “I can’t just ditch him and this article because you don’t like him.” With that, I turned and walked back to my date.