She dismissed this. Jake was proceeding with his divorce – that was all the proof she needed. As for her, unless she met with Otis she couldn’t know how she felt – about anything. As she stared at her phone, she knew what she had to do.
Hi Otis. How about dinner next Friday at 8pm?
You choose the restaurant. Bea x
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
W New York Hotel lobby, Lexington Avenue
Jake walked through impressive entrance doors into a sumptuous hotel lobby, feeling anything but comfortable. He still wasn’t sure why he’d agreed to come, debating his decision during the entire cab journey from his office to Lexington Avenue.
One meeting should have been enough. Why come back for more?
That one meeting had led to his agreeing to another was a source of frustration and bewilderment to him. How had he let Jessica talk him into this? He thought back to their conversation in the coffee shop below her lawyer’s office. Jessica had broken down as soon as they found a table, her sudden emotion taking Jake completely by surprise.
‘I miss you. And I didn’t think I would, you know? I thought I needed my own life: no marriage, no responsibilities. I managed for a while and I thought I was happy. But then Don asked me to write that list of assets I wanted and suddenly it hit me, staring at our whole life itemised on one sheet of paper. I knew then it wasn’t what I wanted. Because I wanted you …’
A waiter passed Jake and laid a porcelain tray on a low table for a businessman sitting on one of the elegant brown velvet couches. Jake noted the designer coffee cup and cafetiere, carefully placed as if by a feng shui expert, tiny indents in the tray holding everything in place. It was the kind of attention to detail Jessica loved and the reason why the ultra-stylish W Hotel was the obvious choice for her to stay in New York. It was too contrived for Jake. The lobby seating, which was designed to look luxuriously comfortable in hotel photographs, seemed to be cluttered by the people trying to be comfortable on them. Jake felt as if he was spoiling the aesthetics just by being there. His house in San Francisco had been decorated in the same way by Jess, causing more than one argument if Jake dared to put his coat in the wrong place or drink coffee without ensuring he had a coaster nearby to put it down on.
These were the tiny annoyances that had joined and spread, like hairline cracks across the surface of their marriage. If they were so easy for him to remember, why did he think seeing her again would achieve anything?
Jessica was waiting for him on a pale grey couch in the centre of the lobby and Jake ground to a halt when he saw her. She had her back to him, but it was unmistakably Jess: the straightness of her spine; the flawlessly smooth blonde mane; the proud tilt of her head. No matter where she sat, she appeared to have been placed by a photographer in order to achieve the greatest effect. And even though he should have been able to walk straight up to his wife and address her as an equal, Jake found himself battling the same adolescent hesitance, hating the way his pulse still raced and his palms still sweated at the sight of her.
I’m still in love with Jess.
The realisation sat heavily on his shoulders as he dragged his unwilling frame towards her. It had been so easy to cover his feelings with anger and determination when she was in a different state, but now he was sharing the same space he knew his heart was far from fixed. He kicked himself for making such a fundamental mistake in thinking he was over her. He was far from over Jess. And she would know it the moment she saw him …
He arrived at her side. ‘Hi.’
She stood and they shared a brief embrace. He was acutely aware of her pink pepper and magnolia scent: a personalised present from her father last Christmas. Nothing was too much for Mr Martin’s little princess and Jake had quickly learned that if Jess couldn’t get what she wanted from him, Daddy was always waiting in the wings to make it happen.
That’s it: keep remembering the bad stuff, Steinmann. It’s the only way to get through this …
Jessica sat a respectable distance away from him, managing to look completely relaxed on the not-designed-for-comfort lobby couches. She looked over her shoulder and raised a slender hand to summon the waiter. ‘Could I get coffee here, please? And perhaps a basket of pastries – Jake, are you hungry?’
‘I’m good, thanks.’
‘Oh. Well, bring them anyway. He might change his mind.’
Jake stared at her as the waiter left. Was that how easy Jess thought this would be? That his mind could be swayed over the divorce as simply as it could over a mid-morning snack?
Jessica beamed at him. ‘You might be hungry later.’
‘I said, I’m fine.’
Her gaze flickered. ‘OK, then.’ She looked around the large hotel lobby. ‘I love this place. When I knew I was coming to New York I had to stay here. I’ll go home with so much inspiration for next season.’ She smiled at him. ‘And I’m happy you’re here. I wasn’t sure after – well, you know. I made a fool of myself in that coffee shop.’
‘No you didn’t.’
‘Oh, I did! But I wanted to show you how serious I am about this, Jakey. I know I hurt you. And I’m sorry. I was just – confused.’
Jake nursed his coffee cup, aware that he was subconsciously using it as a barrier. ‘You filed for divorce, Jess. You made me leave San Francisco. That can’t be undone with a few tears over coffee.’
‘I know it can’t. But I hoped it was a start …’
What was she playing at? Was this some scheme cooked up with her lawyer to persuade Jake to accede to her demands? ‘A start for what?’
Jessica’s smile faded. ‘I thought I made that obvious last time.’
‘No, Jess, you didn’t. Which, probably, is why I agreed to see you again.’
‘Probably?’ She appeared to be offended by the word.
‘Just tell me what you want and we can move on.’
‘I want us to halt the divorce. Get back together.’
Her words hit Jake like a wrecking ball. It was as if everything around him froze, Jessica’s words hanging in the air like shards of suspended glass. Jake was aware of his breathing which drowned out the music and buzz of the hotel lobby; the steady beat of the pulse in his wrists.
Jessica was watching him for a reaction. ‘Jake – please say something.’
Slowly, Jake stood, every movement requiring an unbelievable amount of mental effort. ‘I should go.’
‘No!’ Casting a glance around her, Jessica lowered her voice. ‘Stay. Let’s talk about this.’
‘There’s nothing to say.’
‘There’s too much we haven’t said. And I’m not leaving this city until you listen to me.’
Jake grabbed his coat. ‘Have a nice stay.’
He didn’t listen to her protests as he walked out of the hotel: he didn’t hear anything but the furious words raging in his own head. She could have said many things to him today that he would have been prepared to listen to, but this? She had told him at their first meeting that she missed him, that she regretted hurting his feelings, but he’d assumed she was laying the groundwork for some kind of civility as the divorce proceedings began in earnest. He never thought she would ask for reconciliation.
And, actually, how dare she think she could call the shots on their future? Announcing the end of their marriage, filing for divorce and never once fighting Jake when he moved out of their home and across the USA to start again had all been on her terms. What right did she have to ask for it all to be reversed?
Jake marched on, fuelled by fury, the buildings of New York becoming a blur around him. There was no way he was giving up everything he had worked so hard to build in this city, just because Jess didn’t want to let him go. So what if she wanted Jake back? More fool her for realising what she’d had after she had tossed it in the trash!
He was livid with her for even suggesting they reconcile, but behind it all one question remained unanswered: why now?
Was this a case of Princess Jessica altering her dem
ands on a whim? If that were true, it had been an expensive whim already. She had filed for divorce and Don Sheehan’s services were far from cheap. Add to that the cost of renovations she had already begun at Jake’s former home and the considerable cost of a suite at the expensive Lexington Avenue hotel. Jess had never been one to appreciate the value of money – having a multi-millionaire for a father and a considerable personal fortune of her own had seen to that – but even by her standards, this was extravagant.
What had changed her mind? And how serious was she about repairing their marriage? Was this her father’s suggestion to protect the precious lifestyle of his only daughter? But what about her tears? Jake had seen Jess use her emotions to win arguments before, but her tears in the coffee shop last week had been different. They didn’t appear to be calculated then – they had certainly been uncontrolled; and that was remarkable as Jess could be a master of control. It had been that observation alone which had prompted Jake’s agreement to meet her again today.
Far beneath his fury, a tiny voice suggested a different reason: maybe she still loves me.
Jake stopped walking. He had no idea where he was; his anger had powered his steps away from the hotel, causing him to lose all sense of direction. Breathing hard, he looked around for street names or familiar landmarks. A lump of raw emotion lodged in his chest and he had to fight the urge to cry. The last time he’d cried was while he was packing up his life on the West Coast, the emptiness of his home crushing him. How dare Jess pull this on him now?
Seeing a sign at an intersection for East 59th Street, he headed towards it, an idea forming in his mind. He followed it over Park Avenue and onwards, until the red, gold and brown flash of Central Park trees appeared ahead. Crossing the street, he walked down a path he had followed before, a few months ago. His heart was a muddle of emotion as he wound his way around curved paths beneath black iron lampposts until the Pond came into view. It was quieter today than it had been when he and Bea visited in the summer, the few people scattered around the benches wrapped up against the late October temperatures. The bridge was framed by flaming red and gold leaf clouds and chilly-looking ducks moved slowly across the water. Jake found a spare bench and sat down, wrapping his coat around his body to keep out the worst of the autumn breezes.
He wasn’t sure why he had come here, but he felt calmer looking out across the water. It was strange that in all the time he had lived in New York City, he’d hardly ever come to this corner of Central Park: it had taken a woman born thousands of miles away in England to show it to him. Bea had made him appreciate a great deal about his home city. He wondered if her influence had played a large part in helping him resettle here. Certainly Williamsburg didn’t feel as alien now that he knew her neighbourhood was close to his.
The red leaves made him think of her auburn hair and he found himself wanting to see her again. Finding his phone, he called her number.
‘Hey, Bea.’
‘Jake! Um, hi …’
‘Are you busy?’
‘No busier than usual. How have you been?’
He smiled against the phone. ‘Busy – of course.’
‘Those pesky lawyers aren’t giving you grief, are they?’
‘Well, you know lawyers. Always pulling surprises …’ Jake flinched a little, the mention of lawyers bringing back the events of this morning. ‘But I’m fine. Actually, I’m in Central Park right now. At the Pond.’
There was a pause as Bea took this in. ‘The Pond? How come?’
‘I was in the neighbourhood and, you know, I just thought I’d see what it looks like in the fall.’
‘It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?’
‘Pretty impressive, yeah. I was thinking, it’s been too long since we last explored this great city of ours. And I believe it’s your turn to choose somewhere for our next visit. So how about we pick up where we left off – say, Saturday?’
‘This Saturday?’
‘Mm-hmm. If you’re free.’
‘Um, yes, I’m free. But …’
‘Yes?’
‘No, don’t worry. Saturday’s great.’
Her voice sounded a little tense: had she felt ambushed by his call? ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes. Absolutely. I’m just a little distracted by work.’
‘Of course, forgive me. So, Saturday at eleven a.m. outside my apartment building?’
‘I’ll look forward to it. Bye!’
The call ended abruptly. Jake pocketed his phone and turned his attention back to the autumnal view. He would sit for a while longer, he decided. He’d rescheduled his morning clients and so, for the next hour at least, he could try to make sense of his thoughts. Pushing Jessica’s bombshell to one side, he began to think about the woman who made him smile today: the one with whom any kind of future was utterly impossible.
Welcome to your life, Jake Steinmann. Now what?
CHAPTER FORTY
Imelda’s apartment, 7th Avenue, Brooklyn
‘You look incredible.’
‘I look a mess.’
Imelda playfully slapped Bea’s hand. ‘You’re panicking.’
‘I’m not. It’s just dinner with my ex. What’s to panic about?’
‘I don’t think I’m the one you should be asking.’
Bea looked at her reflection in the mirrored door of Imelda’s closet. ‘Why am I getting so nervous about this, Immi? Otis means nothing to me now. I’m over all of the heartache he put me through and I’m finally happy with my life – apart from the Russ thing …’
‘And the Jake thing,’ Imelda added, a wicked glint in her eyes. ‘Will you be this wound up when you see him tomorrow?’
‘Oh, I hope not. I’ll be a nervous wreck by Sunday. I should have told him this weekend wasn’t possible.’
Imelda pinned up the last of Bea’s hair and took a step back to admire her work. ‘Why? You’ve missed seeing him, that much I know.’
‘Yes, I have. But his timing sucks.’
‘That’s men for you. Never expect them to do anything but at inopportune moments. Anyway, why not see tomorrow as your reward for surviving tonight? Let’s face it, with Otis Greene you need something to look forward to.’ She took a can of hairspray from her dressing table and sprayed a fine mist over Bea’s hair. ‘Are you worried he’ll stand you up again?’
The thought hadn’t even occurred to Bea: she had been preoccupied with what on earth she would say to him. Now, as she considered the possibility of an Otis Greene no-show, her nerves threatened to take over completely. ‘What will I do if that happens? I don’t think I could bear it …’
‘OK, that’s enough.’ Imelda grabbed Bea’s hand and marched her through to her living room, depositing her friend on the sofa and pouring a large glass of wine. She forced it into Bea’s hands. ‘Drink that. It will help.’
Bea obeyed, the warm glow of alcohol hitting her nerves head-on. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as the wine went down. ‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome. And hey, look at it this way: if Otis doesn’t show up, you could always catch a cab to Jake Steinmann’s apartment and tell him you love him.’ She grinned as she saw Bea’s shock at her suggestion. ‘Tell him this pact thing is absurd and that you would drop your side of the bargain like a hot bolt if he wanted to be with you.’
Bea couldn’t believe Imelda had chosen this moment to bring up her wildly unfounded Jake theory. ‘You’ve got this completely wrong. Jake and I are friends.’
‘So you’ve told me a million times.’
‘Because that’s the truth! Why does everybody assume I secretly want a relationship when I say I’m done with them? You, Stew, Celia – even Russ, back when he was speaking to me …’
Imelda relented. ‘OK, I’m sorry. I’m just telling you what I see. I’m not saying I’m right.’
The alcohol was working its way into Bea’s bloodstream and she felt a little woozy. Leaning back against the cushions she scrutinised her newly painted nails. ‘I n
ever wanted to be in this situation. I wanted to be able to walk away from Otis and rubbish relationships and just enjoy life. Why has this come back to haunt me?’
Her friend draped a peacock blue pashmina around her shoulders. ‘Because you guys have unfinished business. Neither of you dealt with the issues in your relationship when you broke up: you need to do that to get the closure you want. Get through tonight, be honest with Otis about the issues you had and don’t let him off the hook. Deal with it, once and for all. Then you’ll be free to get on with however you want to live your life.’ She hugged her. ‘And now you’re ready to go.’
In the taxi heading to the restaurant, Bea bumped her head against the window. Her nerves were getting the better of her, not helped by once again having to justify her friendship with Jake. This was not how she wanted to be. She had to pull herself together and return to the emotional high she had been so happy in when she wrote to Grandma Dot proclaiming her new life decision to be a roaring success.
‘You been to this restaurant before?’ the cab driver asked, parking outside a small restaurant lit by a canopy of white fairy lights.
‘No. A friend suggested it.’
‘You’ll like it. It’s my wife’s favourite place.’
Bea smiled. ‘Great.’
‘And my wife has excellent taste.’
‘I’m sure she has.’
‘Plus, it’s cheap. That’s why I like it.’
Sounds about right for Otis. Bea paid the driver and walked inside.
The interior of O’Jay’s was a little old-fashioned but welcoming with a family restaurant feel. Several large groups of families were enjoying home-style food such as chicken fried steaks, racks of sticky ribs, Philly cheese steak sandwiches with mountains of fries in red plastic baskets and huge pitchers of beer and iced tea. It was less threatening than a more expensive, more intimate restaurant would be and Bea was relieved that Otis had chosen such a venue for their dinner discussion.
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