Until now.
TEN
No matter how Colin measured it, the launch party was a success. Zhorg’s landscapes were projected against the walls of the room, and a dragon with an eight-foot wingspan hovered overhead. Models—both male and female—hired from a local agency roamed the room in costume, posing for pictures. Caitlyn Reese-Marshall, the actress who’d voiced one of the characters, signed autographs and charmed the press, while the developers demonstrated highlights from the game at stations around the room.
The food was fantastic, everyone seemed to be having a good time and being duly impressed by Zhorg’s graphics and interface, and they were definitely going to get good press from the event.
And Jamie had been right: he’d gotten many compliments on his suit.
Only she wasn’t here to gloat about that.
He’d finally accepted the fact that Jamie wasn’t coming. Part of him had held onto the hope that she’d calm down overnight and show up anyway, but after two hours of watching the door with one eye while shaking hands and schmoozing with people, he’d realized that wasn’t going to happen. He had to assume that she’d had the last word when she walked out last night.
Not that he understood why she was so mad. And not that he should be all that surprised that she’d overreacted so spectacularly—he’d conveniently forgotten the way she could swing to extremes—and that she had no problem just disappearing whenever it suited her.
But that still didn’t keep him from wanting her here—if for no other reason than it showcased how successful he and Rainstorm Games were. It might not be on the same level as a pro ball player’s party, but it wasn’t exactly the minor leagues, either.
For God’s sake, why on earth was he mooning over Jamie not being here? This was a big night—for him, for Eric and for Rainstorm—and even if he wasn’t enjoying it, he damn well needed to be working it.
He’d told Callie weeks ago when she started this whole business with Jamie that he didn’t have time for it, that his Cinderella would just have to be a footnote in this biography one day. Had she listened? No, of course not. The woman who constantly wanted him to butt out of her life had shamelessly butted herself right into his. He had the urge to go unleash something nasty into her computer’s hard drive.
It wouldn’t change anything, but it would make him feel better.
And at least that was something.
* * *
Jamie kept one eye on the TV as she loaded clothes into bags. She was sorry to see some of them go—especially that adorable Hugo Boss tweed skirt—but her new lack of a diet and the fabulous New Orleans food had added several pounds to her frame, and she couldn’t get it zipped anymore. That skirt was almost cute enough to make her reconsider and go back on a diet, but the truth was she liked her new curves. She also liked not worrying about her weight or going to Pilates classes four days a week, so sacrifices had to be made.
Plus, the manager at the women’s shelter had told her that they could sell the clothes through a consignment shop and use the money instead. Jamie was fine with that. She hadn’t paid for any of her wardrobe, so she didn’t feel comfortable consigning them herself. She didn’t need the money that badly, and the shelter could do good things with the cash.
And no one needed that many clothes anyway. She wasn’t in any danger of having to go naked any time soon.
Plus, her wardrobe needs were pretty basic at the moment. She worked; she came home. In a way, she’d backslid in her progress, and while she loved her job, she was just as lonely as she’d been when she first arrived in town. It wasn’t that she didn’t know people—her circle of acquaintances grew each day—but the one person she wanted to spend time with was off-limits.
God, she missed him.
But she was staying strong and not giving in to the urge to call him. Time might have given her perspective on what had happened, but she couldn’t get past the fact Colin had lied to her and gone behind her back—for whatever reason.
He didn’t trust her. And she couldn’t trust him.
So it was for the best. She knew all too well how painful important lessons were to learn, but she was learning. And it wasn’t as though she hadn’t been in this position before.
Jeez, how many times would she have to hit the reset button on her life before she got it right?
Finally, the TV station cut away from the talking heads to a table with a single microphone. Jamie grabbed the remote and turned up the volume. Joey’s press conference would be starting any second.
All in all, Joey was going to get off lightly. According to yesterday’s newspaper, investigators hadn’t been able to find enough proof to continue pursuing the possibility of illegal activity. They’d all but said they believed him to be guilty of much more only they couldn’t find evidence to support it.
Because while Joey can be an idiot, he’s not that stupid.
They had him on the smaller things, even though those were more immoral than illegal.
So a fine, a short suspension...yeah, Joey was one lucky guy. She had no idea how many of his endorsement deals had dropped him or how much his career might suffer in the future, but he was going to walk away from this with far less than he deserved.
Joey had done a lot of damage and now she wanted to see him apologize. And that was the only reason she was going to watch his press conference.
When Joey took the microphone, she was surprised to see how tired he looked. No one else would notice, but she knew him too well. He also had a bandage wrapped around his thumb, another sure sign of the stress he’d been feeling, but also another detail no one else would notice, because she was probably the only person who knew Joey would chew his thumbnail until it bled when he was upset over something. But to the average, casual observer, he looked fit, healthy and confident.
After the expected denials, weasel words and evasions, he looked straight at the camera. “And to everyone I’ve hurt—my friends, my fans, my teammates and my loved ones—I’m sorry. Please believe that and believe me when I say I’m going to work to be a better person from now on. I hope you’ll give me the chance to prove that to you.”
Oddly, she didn’t get any satisfaction from seeing him humbled like that. She’d watched so she could close the door on all of it, but when she didn’t feel any different, she realized she already had.
Turning off the TV, she grabbed her bags and drove to the women’s shelter, singing along to a CD instead of listening to the rehash of the press conference on the radio.
The manager of the shelter met her in the lobby to help off-load the bags. “This is very kind of you.”
“It’s my pleasure. I’m going to need a receipt, please.”
As another woman went to get the receipt, Jamie saw the manager reach down and pull out the blue bag sitting on top and remove the small box inside. There might as well have been a sign on top of it that said Very Expensive Jewelry. “Did you mean for this to be in here?”
“Yes. He doesn’t want it back and I can’t keep it. Like the clothes, I’d feel uncomfortable selling it and keeping the money myself. I’d rather you did something worthwhile with what you can get for it.”
“Do you mind if I take a look?”
“Of course not.”
Jamie heard her gasp as she opened the top. She’d made a similar noise when Joey had handed her that box years ago. It was a gaspworthy ring, but it was too ostentatious for her taste and she’d always felt awkward wearing it. “Oh, my. Are you sure?”
“Very sure. All the paperwork on the diamonds is in the bag, so you should be able to sell it to a reputable jeweler without any problems.” The other woman arrived with the receipt and gasped as well when she saw the ring. Jamie quickly filled it out and stuck it in an envelope with Joey’s name and address on the outside. “Thank you and have a great day.�
��
“Ms. Vincent, can I—just so that I know when I take it in and can negotiate properly with the jeweler—can I ask if you know the approximate value of the ring?”
Jamie stopped with one hand on the door. She had to think for a minute. To her, it was worthless. “About sixty, sixty-five thousand.”
At the woman’s wide-eyed gawk, Jamie bit back a smile. This was the most pleasure she’d gotten from that ring in a long time.
Outside the shelter’s office, she dropped the envelope with the donation receipt for Joey into the mailbox. He could choose to write it off on his taxes or not.
She was one hundred percent done with all of it.
Life started now.
* * *
Life after the launch was busy for Colin and Rainstorm. There was the public stuff—follow-up requests from the media, gaming forums to keep an eye on, advertising campaigns to tweak—and then there was the inside stuff, like hackers to thwart, bots to squash, servers to monitor, bugs to fix.
Once upon a time, he’d thrived on this. Twelve-and sixteen-hour days used to slide by quickly, making things like sleep and food unnecessary. He wished he had that kind of focus and ability to get lost in the work now.
Colin had forgotten what not having a life was like. Funny how lack of a life hadn’t bothered him until he’d tasted how the other half lived, and now he found his existence less than gratifying. Sadly, he didn’t have a reason anymore to escape. His place would be just as disappointing, only with the added depressive knowledge of what it used to be like.
And to top it all off, Eric had a date tonight, a fact he’d all but crowed about until Colin had been ready to punch him.
So when his phone rang and Callie’s number popped up on the screen, he answered it happily, grateful for the distraction. “What’s up?”
“Did you fall and hit your head recently?”
Okay. “What? No. Why?”
“Because you’re acting pretty damn dumb for a genius and that’s the only explanation I can come up with.”
Now he remembered why he shouldn’t have answered the phone. Callie wasn’t just a distraction, she was a frustration. And he wasn’t in the mood for it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m on the sidewalk outside your office. Come let me in and I’ll explain it in small words and simple sentences.”
Good thing Elise had locked the door when she’d left for the evening about an hour ago, or else Callie would have been able to barge right in. “I’m working.”
“Colin Eliot Raine...”
“Fine.” He sighed and went through the lobby to flip the lock on the double glass doors. “Lovely to see you, Callie, so glad you could drop by,” he said with sarcastic cheerfulness.
“How did you manage to screw up so royally with Jamie?”
At least Callie wasn’t one to beat around the bush. He found that trait to be rather annoying. “It didn’t work out. These things happen.”
“Really? It just happened. You didn’t act like a royal ass or anything.” Sarcasm dripped off each word.
“Jamie is the one who overreacted to basically everything and walked out on me.”
“I don’t blame her.”
Great. “So Jamie came to you to spill her guts.”
Callie dropped dramatically onto one of the sofas in the reception area. “She didn’t have to. I read the blog post she wrote for tomorrow.”
“What? Jamie wrote a blog post about me?”
“Not by name, no. But since I know you, I can read between the lines. It’s not that hard to figure out. So what did you do?”
“Beats the hell out of me.”
Callie sighed and rolled her eyes. “Try again.”
He shrugged. Without knowing what Jamie had written, he went with the easiest explanation. “I looked her up on the internet. It’s a common thing.”
“Oh, I can only imagine how well that went over when she found out.”
Maybe Callie could provide insight into the female mind and explain why the hell Jamie was so bent out of shape. “To listen to her, though, you’d think I hacked into her computer and read her diary instead of gathering what is essentially public information.”
“Let me guess—you didn’t tell her you knew all this info about her. I looked her up, too—probably before you did, so I know what you found. I can only imagine how embarrassed she was.”
He shook his head. “She wasn’t embarrassed. She was pissed.”
“Trust me, it’s all in the same category.” She motioned for him to come sit next to her. “How would you like it if I’d told Jamie embarrassing stories about you from high school?”
That stopped him short. “Did you?” He might have to kill her.
“No, but that’s not the point. When you did find out, you’d wonder if she’d been secretly laughing at you behind your back or judging you based upon that information. I’ll forgive you the search. But you should have told her. Asked her about it, at least.”
“I apologized.”
Callie snorted. “Hopefully not in the same defensive way you just acted when I brought it up.”
Damn it, she had a point.
“My question, though, is what else did you do?”
He shrugged again. “I sent an email to Kate Roth when Jamie was interviewing with her.”
She rubbed her hands over her face. “Jesus, Colin, will you never learn?”
“I was trying to help. Why is that a bad thing?”
She leveled a look at him. “Did she ask you to?”
“No.” Because Jamie wasn’t Callie, who had an old bone to pick.
Callie rolled her eyes and sighed. “Then why did you do it?”
“I knew she wanted the job, and I wanted to put in a good word for her.”
“So why is she mad at you?”
Finally. He felt vindicated. “That’s exactly my point. She’s overreacting.”
Patting his arm, she shook her head. “Um, let me rephrase, because I wasn’t agreeing with you. My question for you is why did that make her angry?”
“She says she wanted to get the job herself. Without help.”
“I can’t really fault her on that. Especially knowing what she’s been through, I can see why that would be important to her.”
“But I didn’t know about her ex and all that trauma when I did it.”
“That doesn’t matter, honey. My point is, you should have asked her first if she wanted your help.”
He couldn’t really rebut that, considering the current situation he was in. “I meant well. Doesn’t that count for something?”
“Of course. But here’s a news flash for you, Colin. You don’t always know what’s best for people. They don’t always need you to swoop in and save the day. It’s sweet and all, but it’s also really annoying. And sometimes it makes things worse. You have to learn to let people ask for help. Or at least offer first and give them the opportunity to decline the assistance.”
“So I’m supposed to stand there and watch them fall on their asses.”
“Sometimes that’s what you have to do. I know it’s hard, but that’s how some people learn. Sometimes they want—or need—that experience. I know I did.”
“You failed pretty spectacularly.”
Callie’s mouth twisted. “Yes, and thank you for the reminder. But the thing is, life is messy and chaotic. People screw up and make mistakes and you can’t always stop them. And you can’t always save them either. But everyone who knows you knows that they can count on you. And that’s awesome.”
Mollified and feeling less like the bad guy, he patted her leg. “Thank you.”
She smacked him in return. “But that doesn’t make it less annoying when you cross that lin
e. And it certainly doesn’t put you in the right when you do it, either. Jamie has every reason to be pissed at you.”
He should have known that was too good to last. “Well, she did the same thing you did when I crossed that line. She dumped me.”
“Yeah, but you refused to apologize to me. That didn’t help.”
“I’ve already apologized to her. It didn’t help.”
“Then apologize again. Sincerely. Explain—without getting huffy—why you did it and ask her to forgive you. I have a feeling she wants to.”
He looked at her sideways and snorted. “And exactly how do you know that?”
“Because I read her blog entry. Maybe you should, too.” After another of those slightly condescending pats, she stood and put her bag over her shoulder. “I came here as a friend, because I think Jamie makes you happy, and I really want you to be happy. But this is on you to fix. Maybe fix is the wrong word,” she corrected. “This is on you because you were in the wrong. Take responsibility for that. You can’t change what happened, but you can apologize, and promise to do better from now on. So do that.” With that, Callie smiled encouragingly and let herself out.
He locked the door behind her and went back to his office. There were still bots and scripts and hackers needing his attention, but he ignored them for the moment. He had a lot to think about.
It was interesting that Callie hadn’t asked him the same question he hadn’t asked himself: Did he want Jamie back in his life?
Callie obviously assumed the answer was yes, otherwise she wouldn’t have offered him advice on how to go about it.
He was miserable, but he’d blamed lack of sex and too much work—mainly because he didn’t want to think about Jamie. Because the truth was, he missed her terribly.
He respected the way Jamie had taken control of her life, walking away from what she knew and starting over from scratch. And while it had made her a little crazy, she’d had good reason to be. She’d faced the fear and the uncertainty and gotten through it without ever losing faith in herself.
No Time Like Mardi Gras Page 15