An Unexpected Attraction (Love Unexpected Book 3)

by Diamond, Delaney

Jay pinched his nose. He didn’t want to go there. Rather than answer truthfully, he asked, “Different how?”

  “I don’t know. Just…different. You know, if you could have loved me the way that I loved you.” She laughed hollowly. “Maybe we could have been happy and still married. Our lives would have certainly been different. A lot of things would have been different. But of course, you can’t make someone love you. Not any more than you can stop loving someone, can you?” That was a loaded question for sure.

  “You enjoy blaming the collapse of our marriage on me, but you’re the one who gave up,” he reminded her. “You’re the one who wouldn’t let me touch you. You’re the one who left.”

  “Why would I let you touch me?” Jenna asked, in a quietly bitter voice. “When you were thinking of someone else?”

  “There was no one else,” he grated. “Saying it doesn’t make it true. I was faithful to you during our marriage. You gave up.”

  “I gave up because I accepted that even though I was your wife and I had given you sons, and you were physically faithful, emotionally you were cheating on me. You didn’t love me. You didn’t have any passion for me. I was a—a substitute for the person you really wanted.”

  His neck muscles tightened under the effort to remain calm. “This is a ridiculous conversation. Did you call to rehash the same old arguments again?”

  “You’ve never denied it!” Jenna screeched. “Not once have you ever denied your heart was elsewhere. Not once have you ever said that you loved me.”

  “I loved you. You know I loved you.”

  “But you weren’t in love with me. Who was she, Jay?”

  He lowered his voice and spoke between clenched teeth. “If you’re so certain there was someone else, why am I still alone?”

  “I can’t answer that question. By choice, maybe. Although you sleep around plenty, so your bed is never empty.”

  He’d much rather wake up next to the same woman every day, but he’d grown accustomed to seeking comfort in the arms of different women. Thanks to her, his ego had taken a bruising during their short marriage, and she damn well knew it.

  “I have to get back to work.” Cutting the conversation short was the best tactic and one he often employed to handle her. Otherwise, they’d end up in a shouting match.

  “Yes, get back to work, Jacopo. Don’t let me keep you from your precious job, which is so much more important than our boring conversation.” She slammed down the phone and he winced from the explosive sound.

  Jay placed the receiver in the cradle and stifled the urge to yell out loud in frustration. Instead, he slammed his fist on top of the desk.

  She’d had an agenda today for sure. She’d wanted to rub his nose in her relationship, but there was something else she wanted to tell him, too. There had been enough hesitation in her voice, an underlying something that made him wonder if she’d said all she intended to.

  A knock came at the door. Another interruption he didn’t need.

  “Come in,” he called.

  Terrence appeared. “Hey Jay, can I talk to you for a minute?”

  Jay waved him in. “Sure, come on in.”

  Terrence took a seat in the guest chair and placed an ankle over his knee. “So, your lady friend from game night—Brenda. Is she seeing anyone?”

  Jay stiffened. “Why do you ask?”

  “Because I’m interested.” He sat forward on the edge of the chair. “She’s funny, sexy, cute, and we had a good conversation at your house. At least I think so. Thought we had chemistry, but I gave her my number and she never called. Then I thought, what if she lost my card? So I figured maybe you could find out—”

  “She’s seeing someone.”

  Terrence straightened. “She is? I could have sworn she was single.”

  Terrence exemplified the type of man Brenda’s mother hoped she’d meet in Atlanta. A good black man.

  “That’s incorrect,” Jay said shortly. He didn’t experience a lick of remorse for lying. “It’s been a while since you’ve seen her, remember? Four, five weeks. Something like that.”

  Terrence looked deflated. “You think it’s serious already?”

  “I don’t know, but it wouldn’t be a very good idea to set up an employee with one of my friends.” His voice dripped ice.

  Terrence’s eyebrows elevated. “Oh, okay. I understand. Huh. Thanks for your time.” He rose from the chair and headed out of the office but paused at the door. “She is just a friend, right?” He walked out without waiting for an answer.

  Jay sat back in the chair and rubbed his jaw. He didn’t give a shit what Terrence thought. He wasn’t the least bit sorry he’d shot him down because he ran an advertising firm. Not a goddamn dating service.

  Chapter Seven

  Cameras flashed and the sound of applause filled the air as Claudine James, actress on the big and small screen, hoisted a glass of champagne in the air and toasted the audience in celebration. Next to Claudine, Chef Bijoux raised her own glass. Both women grinned at each other, brimming with pride at the evening’s outcome.

  Jay secured an invite to the pre-opening event because Omega Advertising helped launch the restaurant, the third in the past two years from a group of investors that placed their celebrity partners out front to garner as much publicity as possible.

  Nestled along a tree-lined street in Midtown, the upscale dining establishment was filled with well-wishers, taking a peek at the business marriage between the famous actress and Chef Bijoux, from the Food Network. Stark white linens covered the tables, and the dark wood-paneled walls in the main dining room lent an intimacy that caused the gathered crowd to speak in hushed tones. The assortment of dishes circulated by the servers was a variation of the Southern comfort food the actress had grown up eating, able to satisfy even the most discerning palate.

  Jay set his empty plate on one of the tables strategically placed around the dining room floor. He’d practically licked it clean. Minutes before the small dish had been filled with fried green tomatoes garnished with goat cheese and a drizzle of basil aioli.

  Now that the festivities were almost over he could leave, confident in the success of another one of their projects. He ambled toward the exit, winding his way between the media people and other invitees, when he caught sight of Brenda over near the wall. He should have known she’d be here.

  His footsteps slowed to a halt and he just stood there, taking her in. Dressed in a pair of charcoal slacks, white ruffled shirt with pearl buttons, and a charcoal blazer, she talked animatedly to one of the food critics for the local newspaper. She made sweeping gestures with her hands and used energetic nods to agree with the man’s comments.

  At one point she laughed, and even though he couldn’t hear her, his stomach clenched just the same because he knew the sound. Relished it. Missed it.

  When her eyes landed on Jay, her expansive movements stopped. After a brief hesitation she acknowledged him with a faint smile. He smiled back and leaned against the wall to wait for her.

  He didn’t have long to wait. A couple of minutes later, she excused herself and walked across the carpeted floor to his side. Her soft, sweet fragrance enveloped him, and he stuffed his hands into his pockets to suppress the sudden urge to pull her into his arms. Last time that didn’t go so well.

  “Don’t tell me, this is you?” She waved in the general direction of the restaurant and guests.

  “We had a hand in the launch, yes. The investors are our clients.”

  “I should have known.”

  “I thought the same thing when I saw you.” Damn, she looked good up close. Nude-colored lipstick made her already full lips appear plumper and moist. Tonight she’d done something to make her hair wavy and combed it back from her face. He liked the new style.

  “I’ve been getting out more now that I’m settled at the magazine. I guess we’ll be seeing each other more often at events around town.”

  “Probably.” Maledizione, they couldn’t even talk to each
other. Their conversation sounded fake and unnatural—nothing like two people who’d known each other for years.

  She clasped her hands in front of her. “Well, it was good to see you. I’d better go.”

  “Brenda,” he said, as she was walking away. She turned back to face him. “Listen, the last time we saw each other…” He sighed. “Do you think we could go somewhere to talk? We’ve known each other a long time, and I—I don’t want to lose your friendship.”

  She eyed him warily, probably suspicious of his intentions. “I don’t want to lose your friendship, either,” she said cautiously. “Where did you have in mind?”

  “There’s a place on Peachtree, not too far from where I work. It’s a little wine bar I visit often to unwind after work. We could go there, have a drink, and talk.”

  “Okay.” She nodded. “That sounds like a good idea.”

  He breathed a little easier. “We could park in the lot near the office.” He took a look at her shoes, black peep-toe pumps. “You’ll be okay walking the three or so blocks to the bar in those?”

  “I’ll be fine,” she said, brushing off his concern with a wave of her hand. “What’s the name of the wine bar?”

  “Vino Luogo,” he answered.

  A hint of a smile appeared at the corners of her luscious mouth. “Surprise, surprise. Of course it’s Italian.”

  “Of course. They have a variety of wines, but you’ll never taste a better selection than what’s available on their Italian list.”

  Brenda groaned, already loosening up. “You Italians and your food and wine bragging. You actually believe you have the best wine in the world, don’t you?”

  He shot her his best appalled look. “That’s because we do.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you,” she teased, “but the best wine I’ve ever had wasn’t Italian. It was a California red—fruity and textured with hints of cedar and cardamom. Delicious.”

  “You must be joking,” he muttered. “You’re unsophisticated American palate doesn’t know any better, so I forgive your blasphemy.”

  Brenda laughed, cute and sexy at the same time. A sound he would never get tired of, even when she was giving him hell. “Oh please. Italian wines are good, don’t get me wrong—but there are so many good ones out there, I have to say that Italian wine is one among many.”

  “You’ll eat those words,” he promised.

  “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.” Their playful banter had recharged him, and the thought of spending time with her tipped his pulse rate forward a little faster.

  “Okay, Mr. Santorini, let’s go.” She walked ahead of him.

  His gaze dropped, admiring the left-right swing of her hips.

  At the door Brenda cast a glance over her shoulder and almost caught him staring at her behind. “This better be some damn good wine.”

  “It is,” he assured her. He opened the door and let her precede him. “Trust me.”

  ****

  If she hadn’t been with Jay, Brenda would have walked right past Vino Luogo, almost hidden in plain sight with a nondescript glass door and nestled between two businesses on either side.

  “Mr. Santorini.” The host, a middle-aged man with a portly build and bushy dark beard greeted Jay.

  “Hello, Joel.”

  “I see you have a guest tonight. Give me a few minutes to find you a table.” He lumbered away.

  “You weren’t kidding,” Brenda murmured to Jay. “You really do come here often.”

  “I’m afraid so,” he said with a small smile.

  Vino Luogo was indeed ‘a little wine bar,’ like Jay said. Dark furniture and dimmed lights created a cozy atmosphere. Shaped like a long rectangle, the dining room contained small tables lining the walls, none able to seat more than four people, the majority accommodating two. A low hum of conversation filled the packed room. If Joel found a free table, it would be a miracle.

  Apparently, miracles do happen. He found a two-top near the back in a semi-quiet corner against the exposed brick wall. Brenda hadn’t planned to eat again, but the small plate menu featured intriguing choices such as edamame hummus and bacon popcorn. She broke down and let Jay suggest a few items for them to nosh on.

  They opted for the bacon popcorn, set in the center for sharing, and a plate of mushroom flatbread for Brenda. Jay chose tomato flatbread with fontina cheese and a drizzle of balsamic reduction. Not long after the food arrived, the waiter poured them each a glass of Nebbiolo wine and set the half-empty carafe on the table.

  Brenda picked up the bowl-shaped stemware.

  “Salute,” Jay said.

  He watched her as she swirled the liquid and lowered her nose to inhale its fragrance. “Mmmm.” She took a sip and allowed the wine to roll over her tongue. Full-bodied with complex flavors and notes of licorice, it was arguably the best red she’d ever tasted.

  Across the table from her, Jay wore a self-satisfied smirk. “I won’t ask what you think because I already have a pretty good idea.”

  He did know wines. “When you’re right, you’re right.” She set the glass on the table.

  He leaned toward her, a glint of amusement in his eye. “You can thank me now.”

  She rolled her eyes and said one of only a handful of Italian words that she knew. “Grazie.”

  Jay watched her with a pleased expression on his face, before lifting his glass and taking a sip.

  She slipped a morsel of cubed flatbread into her mouth, concentrating on the task and the flavor of the caramelized mushrooms. Anything but look across the table at him and the way his mouth closed over the glass.

  “How is your sister?” he asked.

  Her sister Tracey would start her last year of college in the fall. “She’s fine. We spoke last week. Her studies are coming along well.”

  “What’s her major again?”

  “Computer information systems.”

  “Ah yes. Good for her.” He twirled the glass on the table.

  For a long time, neither said a word. Her gaze flitted over the rest of the diners seated at the small tables and the curved, wooden tasting bar. Mostly couples, but there were also small groups of friends, and from the private room a bachelorette party’s cheering and clapping could be heard.

  “I’m sorry,” Jay said.

  Her attention came back to him. She almost missed the quiet apology. Her heart constricted a little, saddened they’d come to this point. “I’m sorry, too. I overreacted.”

  “You didn’t overreact.” He made the statement in a matter-of-fact way and then drank some wine. He set the glass carefully on the table but his eyes remained trained on it. He frowned, as if searching the depths for the answer to a question. “You seeing anyone?” Now, he studied her with the same intensity he had the wine.

  “Uh…n-no, I’m not,” she stuttered. The change in topic threw her. “Not right now.”

  “No broken hearts left behind in Chicago?”

  “Plural? No way?” She laughed, albeit uneasily. Conversations like this, particularly with Jay of all people, always made her uneasy. “There was someone, but he doesn’t have a broken heart, I assure you. We cut ties when I left. It wasn’t very serious.” She picked up a kernel of corn from the bowl in the center of the table and slipped it into her mouth. Jay hadn’t eaten anything since they sat down.

  “Not serious for you.” Not even the hint of a smile was on his face, attentive eyes capturing every word and every movement.

  “Not for either of us.” She wanted to change the subject and avoided his eyes, focusing on a still life painting of wine bottles and grapes on the wall. When she swung her gaze back to Jay, he was staring at her. “What?” she asked sharply.

  “Nothing. Just thinking.”

  “About what?”

  “The past.”

  He looked at her in a way he never had before, or rather in a way she hadn’t seen in a very long time. Her chest felt heavy and she swallowed hard.

  “What are
you thinking about the past?” A dangerous question, and yet she still asked.

  He traced a finger around the rim of his glass. The movement reminded her of an intimate caress, the warm stroke of a lover’s fingertip over heated skin.

  “Thinking about when Nick introduced you to us he was probably halfway in love with you by then. Ti ricordi?”

  She looked down at the table, embarrassed.

  “Yes, I remember,” she answered. “Except for the part about Nick being halfway in love with me.”

  “You like to pretend it’s not true, but he did have feelings for you. Still does.” His voice had dropped lower, almost hypnotizing in its monotony.

  Shrugging, she broke eye contact. The line of conversation about Nick made her uncomfortable.

  “Did you know he talked about you a lot before he introduced you to us? He mentioned this beautiful woman he wanted us to meet.”

  She didn’t know this little bit of information. Nick had approached her in a cafe. She’d been eating lunch alone while reviewing notes for a class, and he’d walked up and introduced himself. She’d shot him down right away, but eventually they exchanged numbers when he convinced her all he wanted was friendship.

  “I don’t understand why we’re talking about this.” Brenda rubbed the back of her neck, wishing she hadn’t inquired about his thoughts after all.

  Jay stopped tracing the rim of the glass. “Then I met you. The night we met, Jenna was with me. Ti ricordi?”

  “Of course I remember. It was really cold that night. I almost canceled but changed my mind because I’d promised Nick I’d go.” They’d met at a popular jazz and blues lounge in Marietta.

  “You wore a black sweater dress, knee-high, black leather boots, and a red scarf. Three inch heels. Big dangly gold earrings with diamond accents. A gold ring on the middle finger of your right hand with the design of a rose on it. Pink nail polish. Red lipstick. Your hair was a little longer then, and you had pulled it back from your face.”

  Brenda swallowed at the amount of detail he recounted.

  A bittersweet smile lined his mouth. “I can’t remember what I wore that night. I can’t remember what Jenna wore. But I remember every detail of your outfit. I remember what your mouth looked like, your eyes, and especially your smile. I even remember the way you smelled. And I remember thinking…” His voice became quieter, husky. She waited, breathing suspended. “Thinking…that I wish I’d met you first.”