Next to You

by Julia Gabriel

  The sommelier, a young woman in a blue and yellow floral sundress that practically matched the tablecloths, appeared at David’s table as if out of thin air.

  “Mr. Cook. Lovely to see you this evening.”

  David tipped his head toward her. “Simone. How about the Connor Cellars pinot gris?”

  “Very well, Mr. Cook.”

  Simone disappeared as quickly as she had appeared. “Down home cooking with a sommelier?”

  David shrugged and smiled. “Customers still expect a certain level of service, regardless of the cuisine.”

  Simone returned quickly and poured their wine. That was one of the perks of ownership, obviously. No waiting for anything—not a table or wine or even a waiter. David slipped his phone from his jacket pocket.

  “What would you like?”

  Another perk of ownership—David and his guests were never limited to the menu. Nonetheless, Phlox peered down at the first floor tables below, trying to see what other diners were having. She had never understood the point of going to a restaurant and then ignoring what the chef had decided to serve.

  “What do you recommend?” she asked. “How can I brag that I got into one of your restaurants if I didn’t experience the menu?” She smiled at David. Flattery might soften what she planned to tell him over dinner.

  “Well, the Amish chicken with spiced apple rings and cabbage casserole is popular at the moment.”

  “Sounds fattening.”

  He shrugged apologetically.

  “I’ll try it. Zee tells me I need to gain a little weight anyway.”

  David’s eyes dropped to her chest before he could catch himself.

  “Probably no way to direct the calories there,” she said. She and David had seen each other only twice—and even then just briefly—since the accident. She doubted that her brother had explained the full extent of her transformation to him.

  David blushed. “I ah … didn’t mean that … you look fine, Phlox. Gorgeous.” He fumbled with his phone, texting their orders back to the chef. “Different, that’s all. I guess I wasn’t expecting—”

  “Prettier face but the boobs are gone.”

  He put the phone away, a look of chagrin on his handsome face. “That’s not what I meant. And you can always get implants, right? Everyone does that these days.”

  Apparently, that was exactly what he meant.

  “I’m done with surgery for the time being. Sorry.”

  He changed the subject to her business and although the last thing she wanted to do was discuss her business problems over dinner, it was preferable to discussing her lack of cleavage.

  Her Amish chicken was delicious, as of course it would be. There was a reason why David’s restaurants were so successful. A busboy materialized as discreetly as had Simone and whisked away their plates. Simone herself returned with two coffees.

  David swirled cream into his, obviously gathering his thoughts. At last, he looked up at her. “Phlox, I want to apologize for … for not being there for you.” He reached across the table and covered her hand firmly with his. “I was a coward. I didn’t think I could go through all that.”

  Coward. Cad. Her mental dictionary was tossing out all sorts of words.

  “But I’ve missed you. God, I’ve missed you, Phlox. And I want to make it up to you. I know now is not the best time and you’re busy with—”

  “I’ve met someone,” she interrupted what was clearly a carefully-rehearsed speech.

  “Who?”

  “Just someone. You don’t know him.”

  “What’s the lucky guy’s name?”

  Phlox hesitated a moment, then answered, swayed by David’s seeming magnanimity. “Jared.”

  “Jared what?”

  “Jared Connor.”

  David’s eyebrows lifted. “Jared Connor? No one’s seen that guy in years.”

  “Huh?”

  David lifted the now empty bottle of wine from its chiller. “Connor Cellars. See? You didn’t know he owned this? How the hell did you meet Jared Connor? You know what his nickname is?” David chuckled, not waiting for her reply. “Bruce Wayne. Reclusive billionaire and all that.”

  “Uh, I think we’re talking about two different people. I’m definitely not dating a billionaire.” She laughed a little nervously, wishing she could end this conversation gracefully. “Not even close.”

  David looked disappointed and it occurred to her that maybe he’d been hoping for an introduction to a billionaire. “Ah that’s too bad. But hey, at least I’m not losing out to Batman, right?”

  Chapter 25

  Jared stood in his midtown Manhattan penthouse apartment, looking down at the street seventy stories below. From up here, the cars and taxis were just streaks of red tail lights in the dark and everything was blissfully quiet. It had been months since Jared had been back in the city. Not since he’d taken the job with Phlox, as a matter of fact. And now it was Phlox who had brought him back here. After last night, he just wanted to see her. Needed to see her.

  He had it bad, and that was bad.

  Not least because of what he was seeing. He had waited across the street from her office building, a baseball cap pulled down low on his head, pretending to peruse magazines at a newsstand. It was early evening, an hour at which he had hoped she would leave the office. And leave she had, but not alone. She’d been with a man whose arm had been draped casually across her shoulder, too casually to be a colleague or business acquaintance. The guy’s black suit was clearly bespoke. No other way to get a suit to fit that well. Not that Jared was opposed to immaculate tailoring. He had a dozen bespoke suits stashed away in his closet here in New York. Been years since he’d worn one, though.

  The sight of Phlox and another man together had only half surprised him. This was her real life. She had a business here, friends. She’d told him she wasn’t seeing anyone but what else would you say when you’re in bed with someone?

  But the other half of him was completely, painfully surprised. Especially after last night. He’d been so overwhelmed with missing her that he had confessed to loving her. Which he did, so much so that his heart was about to burst.

  Maybe being back in the city had helped her see things in a different light. See him in a different light. See him for the way he really looked. He’d told her she would have men lined up outside her door. He had predicted it himself.

  But did it have to hurt so damn much?

  Jared had followed them, at a discreet distance, until they disappeared into a restaurant. He ended his stalking activities at that point and headed home to nurse a few glasses of whiskey and fight the urge to call her, text her, march down to that restaurant and toss that other dweeb into the street. The thought of her going home with the guy made Jared want to punch something. Hard.

  At nine o’clock, he was lying in bed watching bad reality television and trying not to think about what Phlox was doing right now. Was she doing a sexy striptease for her date in his apartment? Peeling off that prim and proper business suit? Showing him her lovely little body, her map of scars? Letting him kiss her where Jared had kissed her?

  Fuck, this hurt too much. Why had he let himself get involved with her? Let his heart get involved? Why couldn’t he just have screwed her and walked away? He’d even taken her to meet his family. Great. Now Jake was going to know that he’d fallen in love and gotten dumped.

  He was reaching for the glass of whiskey on the nightstand when the phone rang. He let it ring a few times, debating the wisdom of answering it. One of these times it was going to be Jake with the final news. There had been years—many years, in fact—when Jared had looked forward to that moment. The closer it got, though, the more he was dreading it.

  The phone was on the next to last ring when he finally decided to pick it up. His heart slammed into his chest at the sight of Phlox’s name on the screen. He quickly tapped it before her call rolled over to voice mail.

  “Hey,” she said softly. “How are you?”


  Could be better. “Fine,” he answered, listening acutely for the sound of someone in the background. “You still at work?”

  “No. I’m at home.”

  “No fab events to go to tonight?”

  She laughed—almost bitterly, he thought.

  “Don’t expect we’ll get invited to much for awhile. At least Zee’s mother hasn’t rescinded the invitation to her premiere. Not yet, anyway. What are you up to?”

  “Just watching TV.”

  “Anything good?”

  “Nope. Just one of those shows where they dump a group of people into the middle of a jungle somewhere to see if they survive.”

  “The one where they’re all naked?”

  He laughed.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I watched a lot of TV when I was having all my—” Her voice trailed away. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. Just tired.”

  “You sound out of sorts.”

  “Nah. I’m fine.”

  “How are Jake and Mina? And the kids?”

  “They’re fine.”

  Yeah, he was angry about her date, even as he felt awful about being angry—because, hell, he was the one who didn’t want to go out in public with her. What right did he have to expect her to sit at home when he wasn’t willing to date her openly? But the anger was there all the same, most of it directed at himself for being so bloody stupid to fall for a woman.

  “I miss you, Jared.”

  “I miss you too, hon.”

  “I wish you would come to the city. You could just stay in my apartment and …”

  “Hide?”

  “I didn’t say that, Jared.”

  “Well, I have to stay here. The contractors think they might be able to start work on your hot tub next week.” Lying came so easily to him these days, he realized with a start. That wasn’t good. What he wouldn’t give to go back in time and unravel some of those lies, not take a job at her country home under false pretenses. It was good she was dating and moving on, because he’d never be able to explain all those lies. And they weren’t sustainable over the long term. What had he been thinking? That he could just be her caretaker and her lover forever? At some point, she’d learn who he really was.

  “Oh. Okay then. Do I need to put any deposits down on the work?”

  “No. They’re good for now.”

  “Okay. Well, send the bills to Cherise when they arrive. Or have the contractors send them directly.”

  “Will do.”

  Fuck. He did not want to talk about this with her, about the hot tub or money or anything even remotely connected to his employment with her. But this had been inevitable when she returned to the city, hadn’t it? Whatever they had between them could only exist in Connecticut. Now that she was in New York again he had turned back into a pumpkin.

  * * *

  The sound of his phone ringing woke him from a restless, troubled sleep. He swatted the surface of the nightstand, trying to find it without having to open his eyes. He knocked the empty whiskey glass onto the floor, where it shattered.

  “Jared.” It was Jake.

  “What time is it?” Jared mumbled, opening his eyes just enough to see whether it was light out yet. Nope, still dark.

  “It’s four-thirty. Sorry to wake you. Are you alone?”

  “Of course I’m alone.” Unless you count dear old Jack. Daniels, that is.

  “The attorney just called. It’s going to be today.”

  “Shit.” He was wide awake now. “Don’t they give more notice than that?”

  He heard Jake’s labored breathing on the other end. “They set the date last week apparently.” Jake was quiet for a long moment. “The attorney didn’t call earlier so that we wouldn’t have enough time to fly out to California. The attorney said that he requested that we not be there.”

  Fuck. It would have been gruesome in the extreme to attend his father’s execution. But a tiny part of him had held out hope that Jackson Connor would want to see his sons again before he died. One last time. He and Jake hadn’t seen their father since the night of the fire. That was twenty-five years ago now.

  It’s time to let it go. His wiser and younger brother had been telling him that for years. Easier said than done, though.

  “Do you want to come up here?” Jake issued the invitation hesitantly.

  “No. I don’t know if I’ll … You wouldn’t want the kids to know anything’s wrong.” He sensed Jake’s relief on the other end.

  “Well, maybe you can come in a few days or something. Mina and the kids want you to bring Phlox again.”

  “I don’t know. I think she might be back with her old boyfriend.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Saw them together.”

  Jake was silent for a minute. “She brought him to the house?”

  “No. I’m in New York.”

  “What are you doing there? Following her around?” Jared could hear the gears turning in Jake’s head. “You are, aren’t you? Does she know you’re there?”

  “No.”

  “Jared, I don’t know her very well but she seemed like a nice person. The kids loved her and they’ve got pretty good bullshit meters. If you don’t want her, I believe Aidan is next in line.”

  “I don’t want to fuck up her life.”

  “How do you know you will? Why not give her the opportunity to decide whether you will or not?”

  “Brother, it is too fucking early in the morning to have this conversation again. I’m sure we’ll be in touch later in the day.” With that, Jared hung up and crashed back into his restless sleep.

  At ten o’clock, he gave up on sleep. He brewed a pot of coffee—double strength—and toasted a bagel, then sat down to watch CNN and check the Google alerts he had set up for his father. He poured a second cup of coffee, dosing this one with a generous shot of whiskey. If ever there was a day to get stinking drunk, this was it. And he fully intended to be falling-down-shit-faced-drunk by nightfall. Or mid-afternoon, whichever came first.

  At noon, there was still no word. He kept CNN running in the background while he occupied himself with other distractions. He googled Phlox Beauty and read every last search result, no matter how small or how old. Hey, he was a shareholder. He googled the restaurant she had gone to the previous night. So she was dating a restaurateur and the guy had taken her to one of his own restaurants. Kind of like a busman’s holiday there, he thought. Not to mention kind of cheap. Presumably the guy didn’t have to pay for meals at his own restaurant.

  I would fly her to Paris for dinner.

  By three, he was stir-crazy and remembering why he spent so little time in New York. He longed to be back in Connecticut, where he could at least be outside and alone, taking care of the gardens for the woman he loved. Working on the hot tub he had lied about earlier to the woman he loved.

  He had never worried about his lies catching up to him until now. No one looked at a caretaker all that closely. And if someone were to discover that he wasn’t who he said he was, well, they would be a person he didn’t really care about anyway. Falling in love hadn’t crossed his mind when he had concocted this scheme.

  Jake was wrong though. It would fuck up her life. Oh, not the dating-a-billionaire part. But dating the son of a condemned killer? Yeah, that part. Not a great addition to the Phlox Beauty brand. And thanks to his face, it was not information anyone could ever forget. Every time he stepped out with Phlox, it would be “Phlox Miller with her billionaire boyfriend, Jared Connor. Mr. Connor, who was burned in a fire set by his father …”

  He loved her too much to do that to her.

  At four o’clock, Jared had fanned out his sizable collection of delivery menus on the coffee table. What would it be tonight? Chinese? Indian? Burgers? He wondered what his father had ordered for his last meal. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what it might have been, so little did he know his own father. With a start, he realized he didn’t even know what his father looked like now. In hi
s memories, his parents were always young, the way they had been when he’d gone to bed that night. But his father was in his sixties now. Was he grey? Bald? Wrinkled? Jared had no idea.

  At four-fifteen, his phone buzzed with a text. Over was all it said. He put his ruined face into his hands and wept.

  Chapter 26

  Phlox stood in her apartment’s kitchen, methodically chopping vegetables for a dinner salad and running through all the things she had to do before she and Zee flew out to Ginger Moon’s movie premiere in two weeks. Set up a meeting with her marketing director to brainstorm naming ideas for the burn care line. Finish the performance review for Cherise. Buy a gown for the premiere. None of the gowns she owned fit her any longer. She and Zee had to look great at the premiere. No, they had to look perfect—not like the owners of a business struggling to weather a crisis.

  And maybe try to get up to Connecticut to see Jared.

  She missed him. She’d known she would but the intensity of her longing for him shocked her. They hadn’t known each other long but being with him just felt right.

  Outside, the sun was setting on Manhattan, the last rays of light glinting off windows and skyscrapers up and down the block. Her small television played in the living room, tuned to CNN, but Phlox paid it little mind. The newscaster was talking about a death row inmate who had been executed in California. She set down her knife and padded over to the television in her bare feet. She had enough bad news in her life. She didn’t need to hear more. She lifted the remote control from the coffee table and pointed it at the screen, her thumb poised over the power button.

  The female newscaster struggled to maintain her composure while she read the story from the teleprompter. "Jackson Connor stabbed his wife, Maria, to death while she was sleeping, then set fire to the house with their two young children asleep in their beds. The children, Jared and Jacob Connor, managed to escape from the house.”