I sipped my beverage and stared at the text messages on my screen. Ten unanswered messages that I desperately wanted to type a response. I wanted to tell him about how much I missed him. I wanted to share the story about my gran helping Mr. Lin when he thought he was going to lose his business. Mostly, I wanted to hold him. I needed him.
Krystle cleared her throat. “Hey, isn’t that your guy, looking all broody and wet in the doorway.”
Following her gaze, my heart thumped out of sync. Jax stood bathed in the lights of the entryway wearing a white t-shirt that clung to his muscles and pair of dark denim jeans. He looked undeniably handsome with his hair slicked back. Was it possible that he’d become even more gorgeous than the last time I saw him? Panic etched visibly on his face and his smoldering blue eyes scanning the crowd, looking for me.
My eyes flicked to his and I steeled my spine. Jax maneuvered his way towards me, sidestepping patrons with effortless precision. My name rolled off his tongue and that familiar feeling took hold, tugging my need for him. Adrenaline coursed through my veins slamming into my heart.
I can do this, I can be cold.
Oh, hello, Mister Hart. I delivered his name in that proper way as if I we hadn’t spent the last months running our tongues all over each other’s bodies.
His eyes widened, looking surprised. “What’s going on?”
“Well, I hear congratulations are in order.” I snapped my fingers. “Krystle, I’m buying the next Governor of Montana a drink. Give the man whatever he wants, on me. Let’s celebrate.”
He planted his arms on either side of the barstool I was sitting on, caging me. The smell of spearmint and cold rain twirled up my nose. “How do you know about that?”
“Carol filled me in on your new journey and I am so happy for you. I hear that you are already looking for commercial space and with the newly acquired residential land it is such an exciting time.”
His face fell, the hurt in his eyes evident. I took a sip of my wine, feeling the pressure from the tears that threatened and worried the dam would burst any second.
“Carol,” he huffed. “Meddling again.”
Krystle’s gaze pinged between the two of us. “What can I get you there, soon to be Governor?”
Jax’s eyes never left mine. “Scotch neat. House is fine.”
Seconds felt like minutes. Krystle slid the glass in front of me and I handed it to Jax. “It seems that everything is falling into place for you, Jackson. Here’s to you.” His fingers grazed mine, and my heart beat at a bruising rhythm against my ribs.
“I was hoping to share the news with you in person.”
I slammed back the rest of my wine—liquid courage. Abandoning all my previously rehearsed speeches I went for the jugular. “And I hope that you find the person who ticks all the boxes—the perfect first lady.”
He pulled back, immediately straightening his posture. “Is that so?”
I nodded, forcing myself to meet his eyes. “It is.”
The pain on his face disappeared, his expression turning to stone. “Fair enough. I’ll be seeing you around the office, Miss Brockman.” He swallowed his drink and then placed the glass in front of me. “Enjoy your evening.”
This is goodbye.
Without another word, Jax turned and walked out. I was on my feet before I could formulate a thought.
Wait. I love you.
I stopped myself from running after him and planted my ass back onto the barstool. I loved him enough to let him go.
“You sure about this?” I heard from behind me, registering Krystle’s voice. “He’s one of the good ones.”
No. I’m not sure.
“Yeah, he is one of the good guys. I’m just not the one he needs.”
I SPENT THE ENTIRE WEEKEND curled up on my new sofa watching Netflix and eating junk food. On the morning of New Year’s Eve, I showered and then ventured out to the market. The island was alive with happy families trekking to the beach for a day of play. I stopped off at the coffee shop on my way back home.
“Any New Year’s Eve plans,” the barista asked.
“I have a hot date with Ryan Seacrest and my couch,” I replied, handing her the cash.
As I left the coffee shop, my phone vibrated in my pocket. My heart stopped, Jax? It was my mom. Swallowing all my sadness, I answered the call with a smile on my face.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Hi, sugar. Happy New Year’s Eve.”
“Same to you.” I settled into the driver’s seat. “How are you?”
“I’m good, just wanted to check in.”
Switching to speaker phone, I balanced my phone on my thigh. “And by good, do you mean that things have gone smoothly with Dad?”
She let out a breath. “Yes, he moved out yesterday. Surprisingly, he seemed to be rather overjoyed to be leaving.”
Not surprised, I rolled my eyes. “That sounds about right. Sorry, Mom.”
“Nothing to be sorry about, this was years in the making. The good news is that he is not contesting the divorce and he’s agreed to give me the house and fifty percent of the earnings from the business, but we’ll let our lawyers hash it out.”
“Well, you did help him build that business, it’s only fair.” I flicked my turn signal and drove down the alley. “And how are things between you and Darlene?”
“Rocky at best. Roger kicked her out and she tried to guilt me into letting her stay here.”
“I hope that you slammed the door in her face.”
She laughed. “No, but I did give her a piece of my mind.”
“Good for you, mom.”
This was the happiest I’d heard her sound in a very long time. She had a lot of new opportunities giving her a ton to look forward to in the new year. As for me, I had some decisions to make about how I wanted the next year to go. The end of our conversation was a blur and I barely remembered putting away the groceries.
Flopping back onto couch, I tore open a bag of chips. My gaze shifted to Megyn’s room, which now sat completely empty. This was what totally alone felt like.
Tears dripped onto my grey cotton t-shirt. I didn’t want to be like this. I was in love with Jax, but I made my choice. It will only hurt for a little while.
I will not be the girl who sits around and cries for the guy. No, I needed to figure out how to face him on Wednesday morning. Instead, I dried my eyes and decided no more.
I changed into my black running shorts and purple Nike tank. My feet hit the pavement, sweat poured down my back on the last mile. “Feel it Still” blasted through my earbuds charging my muscles urging me to keep going.
My mood had improved slightly, shifting from totally wrecked to overwhelmingly sad. At least, I think that was how I felt. I wondered what Jax was doing? Pain radiated in my chest thinking of him sitting alone at the hotel eating by himself.
I thought back to our conversation on Thanksgiving, which felt like a lifetime ago. “And normally holidays are just another day for me.”
The pull to go to Jax was strong, but I reminded myself it had to be this way. Carol was right, which left a bitter taste on my tongue. By the time I made it back to my apartment my stomach was rumbling. After a quick shower, I made a large Caesar salad.
I pulled a fork from the drawer just as my front door flew open with Krystle breezing through like she owned the place. “Happy New Year,” she yelled out, blowing a noise maker.
“Whoo hoo.” I twirled my fork in the air.
“I’m not letting you sit around here being all sad.”
I took in my surroundings. “Does it look like, I’m moping around?” I asked, gesturing around the space.
Krystle walked back onto the porch and returned carrying four shopping bags. “I’ve got all the makings for a non-mopey evening.”
I stabbed at the chicken on my salad. “Well, at least you’re not going to make me go out to a bar.”
“No way in hell, it’s my first New Year’s Eve off in two years.” She tightened
her ponytail and then unpacked the bags. “I am not spending this night anywhere near a bar. My college education begins Wednesday. I’d rather not spend tomorrow hungover.”
“At least we can both agree on that.”
Krystle busied herself with the task of setting up a makeshift bar, cutting up lemons and limes while I rinsed out my bowl placing it into the dishwasher along with my fork. Krystle added some vodka to a mixture of cranberry and orange juice.
“I know you, Stevie, you love him.”
“I do love him. My heart is splitting into a thousand fragments, and I’m trying hard to keep it from breaking completely.”
She handed me the pretty pink drink. “You know, a broken heart is a heart that’s been loved.”
“Bartender therapy or general words of wisdom?” I swiped away the tears sliding down my cheeks.
“Maybe both,” she winked, tossing back a sip. “After a few of these, we’ll stuff our faces with pizza. And if you decide you want to chat about the guy, we will. It’s okay.”
“Okay, but I get to choose the toppings. Can’t trust you and your sweet tooth, you’re liable to put pineapples or banana peppers on the pizza.”
“JACKSON,” CAROL’S VOICE DRIFTED THROUGH my office. “Did you sleep here?”
Sitting up from my leather couch, I pressed my palms to my eyes. “Yeah, I guess I did.”
She began picking up the mess that I had made. Empty bottles lined my desk and dirty plates stacked on top of my coffee table. “You look like hell.”
Ignoring her comment, I reached for the glass of whiskey in front of me, swallowing it down and relishing the burn.
“Hello, Maria, this is Carol, could you send a cleaning crew up to Mister Hart’s office. Discretion is advised. Thank you.”
“What time is it?” My head throbbed with a dull ache.
Her hands fell to her hips. “It’s seventeen minutes past seven. Honestly, Jackson, get your ass into your shower before someone sees you like this.”
Carol was the only person I allowed to speak to me as if I wasn’t the man who signed her paychecks. I guess I had allowed that from Stevie, but she no longer played a dual role in my life.
Convinced that she would show up at my house, I stayed in one place all weekend—camped in front of my television watching every college bowl game. By Sunday afternoon, I was climbing the walls. I picked up my phone at least a thousand times, my fingers hovering over her name. When I didn’t hear from her on New Year’s Eve, I climbed into my Range Rover vacillating between to rehearsed apologies and a grand speech as I drove to her place. As I turned down the street to her apartment I realized that showing up at her place wasn’t going to get me the end result I wanted. And I wanted her. So I’d respect that she needed her space.
Housekeeping arrived, avoiding eye contact with me and tidying up the mess. My tongue was fuzzy and my mind a blur and I finally remembered why I came here. I couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d work.
Carol snapped her fingers and pointed to my bathroom. “Jackson. Shower. Now.”
Tossing a scowl in her direction, I shuffled towards the shower locking the door behind me. Stripping out of my clothes, I then shoved them into my laundry bag. Steam filled the room and I stepped under the hot spray hoping to scrub away a fraction of the pain—physically and emotionally.
Freshly showered and changed, I stepped into executive conference room and Ingrid handed me a cup of coffee. I froze when I saw Stevie sitting between Kenzie and Eric. Laughing at something Eric had mentioned, she didn’t bat an eye in my direction. Her skin was sun-kissed and her blonde hair somehow lighter. Stevie must have spent the last four days at the beach. Irritation shot through me as I sank into my chair wondering if she spent it with another man. The room was too small, too hot. Part of me wanted to cancel this meeting and find a way to get Stevie to hear me out.
Carol kicked things off. “It’s great to see everyone back from the short holiday break. With a new year and the end of the quarter come staff changes. We have a new head caddy, Jake Collins. There have been some changes made to the employee dress code. You will receive a memo regarding those changes today.”
“Can we finally wear jeans?” Kenzie asked.
Stevie laughed and for a moment our eyes met. The conversation shifted and I barely registered Eric recapping the end of year figures. Her brows bent and her eyes dropped to the report in front of her. As the meeting trudged on, exhaustion crept over me. I rubbed at my temples and then sent a text to Ingrid asking if she could please bring me another cup of coffee.
Stevie cleared her throat bringing me out of my zombie like stage. “The Chicago property’s interior design phase is nearly complete. I’ve been working very closely with Roseman Designs over the last few months and,” her voice trailed off.
“You were saying about the Chicago property,” Carol reminded.
“Lost my train of thought, sorry. The Azore Spa is going to be beautiful. I am working on the Valentine’s installation. I should have it completed with a full report to you, Mister Hart, by next week.”
I nodded. “Thank you, Miss Brockman.” It was the first thing I’d said the entire meeting and it left me with an odd sense of relief. I heard Carol speaking, but my eyes stayed locked on Stevie.
“Is there anything else, Mister Hart?” Carol asked.
I felt their stares and my eyes darted around the table. “No, thank you everyone.” When the room cleared out, I slumped further into the chair staring into space and drowning in my own misery.
My feet had a mind of their own and somehow I ended up going in the exact opposite direction of my office. Leave her alone. Don’t go to her. Stopping outside Stevie’s office, I watched her as she stood at her desk with her head bent over the laptop. She moved to her drafting table, opening a binder and flipping through color swatches. Whirling around, she sucked in a sharp breath. “Mister Hart, what can I do for you?”
Pain stabbed at my heart, her tone cold and formal. Her sweater fell low on her shoulder exposing the black lace of her bra reminding me of how her body looked in lingerie. I wanted to take her in my arms and feel her skin against mine.
“I want to talk to you. I want to tell you about what happened in Montana.”
Her expression turned emotionless. “What is there to tell?” she asked, stiffly.
“Stevie, you have to listen to me.”
“Is this about my job?”
I sighed. “No.”
“Does it have anything to do with any of the projects that I am currently working on?”
I shook my head. “Can we just talk? Stevie, have dinner with me. Give me that much, please.”
She walked around to the front of her desk and turned to face me, straightening her shoulders. Needing to feel something, I reached for her, sliding my hand down her arm. When she didn’t push me away I took that as a positive sign.
“I’m trying to say goodbye to you, Jax.”
“Yeah, I gathered that the other night with your first lady jab. Let’s put politics aside for the moment. Why don’t you tell me why you are so upset?”
“I’m not upset, I just realized that you and I want different things in life and it’s best if we part ways now before things become serious.”
“Bullshit,” I snapped. “You think what we have isn’t already serious?”
I watched her, waiting for her to give me something of substance. Something in her eyes said something that words just couldn’t. And then I reached out taking my opening. My thumb brushed down her cheek. “Tell me you miss me.” One step was all I needed to close the gap between us.
She turned away, but I wrapped my arms around her waist. “Stevie, say that you miss me.” Breathing deeply, she relaxed into me. A small victory, her warm body against mine somehow thawing the ice between us.
My lips ghosted over the skin beneath her ear. “Sweetheart, please.”
Hearing her breath shake she twisted out of my arms and turned to face me. “You ne
ed to find someone whose past won’t damage your future.”
My brows pinched together. “What are you talking about?”
Knock. Knock.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Miss Brockman, am I interrupting?” Maria asked from the doorway.
“Not all, Mister Hart and I are finished.”
“For now,” I whispered. “We’ll be continuing this conversation.”
I turned and walked out of her office, but there was no way in hell I was letting Stevie walk out of my life.
RACKED WITH EMOTION, I PUSHED through my meeting with Maria and managed not to crumble into pieces. I told myself I could do this, I could get through the rest of the workday without falling apart but that didn’t happen. My brain was mush and I couldn’t focus on anything. Jax was doors down from me and I wanted to rush to him, but I needed to stay away.
Pushing Ingrid’s extension, I told her I would be working from home for the rest of the afternoon. When three o’clock rolled around, I made a quick and silent exit out of the building. I’d known from a glance at the shared executive calendar that was when Jax would be off the property in a meeting across town.
I collected the mail and walked up the stairs to my apartment.
“Hey, do you live here?” A gruff voice called out. Looking down, the voice belonged to a guy with sandy blond hair carrying a large five gallon bucket.
“Hi, yeah.”
“I’m Joe, we’re doing demo in the restaurant. We had to shut off the water. We’ll have it turned back on by five.”
“Thanks for letting me know.”
With the door to my apartment locked, I slid to the floor bringing my knees to my chest. Tears carved paths down my cheeks. This was becoming a depressing habit.
I pushed myself up off the floor. Plodding towards my bedroom, I deposited my handbag onto the couch. My eyes squinted against the blinding yellow spilling across my wall. Stupid sun.
I fell onto my bed, exhaustion taking hold. Gripping my pillow tightly, my eyes closed.
My head was pounding. Nope the pounding wasn’t my head, it was my door. Blinking, I swung my legs over the side of the bed. The time on the microwave read six forty-five.
Wicked Gentleman Page 21