by Sarah Morgan
“You’re only allowed to pick one,” Paige reminded her. “One each.”
“While You Were Sleeping,” Eva said, and Frankie looked horrified.
“That’s a Christmas movie. This is summer.”
“It’s romantic. And optimistic. Sandra Bullock is adorable and the bit where the guy gives her the ring at the end is the Best Proposal Ever.”
“It’s the Most Unbelievable Proposal Ever.”
“Not true.”
“The guy is in a coma!”
“That’s the brother. You need to pay attention. What’s your pick?”
“The Silence of the Lambs.”
“That’s a horror movie.”
“I know, but Hannibal Lecter is really into Jodi Foster.”
“He’s a serial killer! He wants to eat her! We’re not watching that one. Paige?”
Paige realized she hadn’t even heard what they were saying. Something about the best proposal. In her book any proposal would have worked. “Er—Best Proposal Ever has to be Richard Gere climbing up the fire escape with flowers in his teeth.”
Eva sniffed. “Now that is unrealistic.”
“It’s all unrealistic.” Frankie put her spoon down. “Expecting happy ever after is unrealistic.”
Paige was inclined to agree. No, she wasn’t going to do that. She wasn’t going to pretend that Jake’s fear of relationships extended to all men. She knew it didn’t. “Pick a movie, Frankie. No horror.”
“Crazy Stupid Love,” Frankie muttered. “Because at least the title is honest. And I get to see Ryan Gosling naked from the waist up. That’s always a bonus.”
Paige rummaged in her brain for something. Anything. “When Harry Met Sally.”
“And you’ve picked that one because Billy Crystal makes you laugh, right?” Frankie pushed her hair away from her face and gave her a fierce look. “Not because he’s a commitment phobic guy who sees the light in the end?”
“I picked it because the dialogue makes me smile.” And because she really didn’t care what the hell she watched. “Those two have chemistry.”
“Good. As long as you know real life isn’t like a movie, and Jake isn’t going to show up here on a white charger waving his sword.”
“I know that.” And she felt as if a heavy weight was crushing her chest. A few weeks ago Paige would have pinned on her Brave Face but now she didn’t bother. She missed him. She wasn’t sure how she was going to get through the next few hours, let alone the days and weeks ahead.
Matt was looking at her. “We’re going to distract you. In time, you’ll get over him.”
“Maybe you could just knock me unconscious and wake me up when that time comes. Alternatively you could knock Jake unconscious and hope when he wakes up he sees sense.”
“I thought you didn’t want me to hit him?”
“I don’t.” Paige sighed. “Ignore me. I’m a sorry mess.”
“The most comfortable place to be a sorry mess is up on the roof terrace watching movies and drinking tequila.” Matt walked to the door. “Call me if you need me. Not that I’d give you advice or anything, but I could listen.”
He closed the door and Frankie stared after him.
“Considering he’s a man, your brother isn’t awful.”
* * *
JAKE HAD A sleepless night.
He couldn’t remember a time when he’d felt this bad.
Or maybe he could.
He’d been six years old, waiting for his mother to come home. The sun had set, the sky was inky dark and still there was no sign of her, and he’d known, deep in his gut, that she’d gone for good. He’d sat there, wondering what he’d done. What he’d said, feeling a bone-deep emptiness and an aching sense of loss.
He felt the same way now.
As the first bright shards of sunlight shone through the windows of his apartment, he gave up on sleep and got up, thinking about the last thing Matt had said before he’d left the night before.
My sister offered you the best thing money can’t buy. Maybe you ought to think about that before you turn it down.
Sweat beaded on the back of his neck.
Maybe for some people love was the best thing, but he knew it could also be the worst.
Love was a lottery.
Sometimes it worked. Sometimes it didn’t.
In his experience, the odds weren’t good. And the more it mattered, the more it hurt.
And Paige mattered.
He paced, trying to work out how to get rid of the ache in his chest, and in the end he did what he always did when life got rough. He rode his bike to Brooklyn to see Maria.
She was the one person who would understand what he was feeling.
She’d give him sympathy, and right now he needed it, because Paige had made him feel like a jerk and Matt had made him feel like a jerk.
Maria definitely wouldn’t make him feel like a jerk.
And she’d make him breakfast.
* * *
DESPITE THE FACT that it was still early, the restaurant was already busy, the morning crowd lingering over their coffee at tables dappled by warm sunlight.
Jake walked straight around the back and found his mother in the kitchen, chopping tomatoes.
It felt familiar and comforting. The smells of roasted garlic and fresh oregano took him straight back to his childhood.
Maria took one look at his face and put the knife down. Without saying a word, she made him a strong coffee and ushered him to the nearest table.
“What’s wrong?”
It was a measure of how well she knew him that she could tell instantly that something was wrong.
“Why does something have to be wrong? I’m hungry. I decided I needed to start my day with granita and brioche. And coffee, of course.”
“You travel across the Brooklyn Bridge for granita and brioche when you have more fancy restaurants where you are than stray cats, there’s something wrong. I assume it’s a woman.” Her voice was as soothing as warm honey, and he knew he’d been right to come.
He gave up the pretense. “It’s a woman.”
She nodded, waiting. “And?”
“It’s Paige. I’ve been seeing Paige.”
There was a smile, but no surprise. “I’ve hoped for that for a long time. When I saw the two of you together the other night, I wondered. I sensed things had changed. I’m happy for you. You’re perfect together.”
It wasn’t the reaction he’d expected. “We’ve been seeing each other awhile. We were having fun.”
“Of course you were. You always do. She cares about you.” She sat across from him, watching patiently as he drank the coffee and tried to decide how much to tell her.
“She said she loves me.” Remembering made his heart race. “But those words mean nothing.”
His mother looked at him steadily. “To a woman like Paige, those words mean everything. She isn’t the sort to give her love lightly. She’s a strong woman and she has the biggest heart. Whatever the problem is, you’ll sort this out.”
He noticed she said you, not the two of you, which meant she didn’t think the fault lay with Paige.
“It’s too late. I ended it.”
“You’d been seeing each other for a while, you were enjoying each other’s company—so you ended it?”
“I can’t give her what she wants. I can’t be what she needs. And I don’t want what she’s offering.”
Maria looked at him steadily. “If I’ve understood you correctly, she’s offering you unconditional love, a lifetime of loyalty, friendship, support, encouragement, humor and, I presume, great sex. Why would you not want that, Jake?”
He opened his mouth to reply, but nothing sensible came to mind so he closed it again.
She made him feel like a jerk.
That was three times in fewer than twelve hours, and he felt a rush of something that could have been frustration or desperation.
“I thought you’d understand.”
“I un
derstand that you’re scared of love. That you don’t trust the emotion. But just because we’re scared of something and we don’t trust it doesn’t mean we don’t feel it. You love her, Jake.”
His palms felt clammy. “I’m not sure that—”
“It was a statement, not a question. You’ve always loved her. I’ve known it from the first moment you brought her here. The first moment I saw you together. You sat at what was to become your usual table, all five of you, and you watched over her like a bodyguard. I remember being pleased that Matt didn’t need to spend so much time worrying about his sister, because he was able to share the load with you.”
“We argued all the time.”
“Jake—” Maria was patient “—we both know why that was.”
Jake was beginning to wish he’d stopped at some random restaurant for breakfast and not come home. Tension pricked across the back of his neck. “I was fond of her back then, that’s true, but—”
“You protected her. And you carried on protecting her. That’s what we do when we love someone.”
“Unless you’re my mother.” The words fell out of his mouth without encouragement, and he cursed softly. “Forget I said that. I meant my biological mother. You’re my real mother. You know I think of you that way. I always have.”
“I know. And you don’t have to explain or excuse anything with me, Jake. She was your biological mother.” She reached out and took his hand. “And your mother didn’t leave because she didn’t love you. She left because she didn’t think she could give you what you needed. He’s smart, Maria, she used to say to me. He needs more than I can give him. And I told her that what a child really needed was love, but she didn’t see it that way. All she saw was all the things she wouldn’t be able to give you. The things she couldn’t buy and the education she couldn’t afford. She thought she was doing what was best for you.” She paused. “In the same way you think you’re doing what’s best for Paige.”
“It’s not the same thing.”
“Isn’t it? Does Paige want your protection? Has she asked for it?”
“She hates it.” He inhaled deeply. “She needs permanence, and we both know that in love there is no permanence. Love is a risk.”
“And why do people choose to take a risk?” Maria squeezed his hand. “Paige took the risk because she loves you. Because she believes that what you share is worth that risk. She put her heart on the line and laid out her feelings, even though she must have known there was a good chance you’d stomp all over them.”
Jake winced, because he’d done exactly that.
She’d laid her feelings out and he’d stomped.
Maria let go of his hands. “She made her choice, and now you have to make yours. You have to decide whether you love her enough to take the risk. Are you willing to do whatever it takes? Is she worth it, or would you rather go through life without her?”
“Without her? Who said anything about being without her?” Jake stood up abruptly, wishing he’d found a quiet corner to lick his wounds in private instead of coming to see Maria. “I won’t be without her. We’ll still be friends. We’ll still see each other. She’s Matt’s sister, for God’s sake.”
“Yes, you’ll still be friends. Until she meets someone. How will you feel when she eventually meets a man who doesn’t have your fear of love? Because that’s what’s going to happen, Jake. A woman like Paige—she’ll meet someone else. And knowing the sort of woman she is, loyal and loving, it won’t be the sort of relationship that’s flimsy and easily broken like the ones you prefer to have.”
The thought of Paige with another man made him want to drive his fist through the wall. “What is this? Attack Jake day?”
Maria’s expression softened, but she didn’t back down. “I think it’s probably ‘try and persuade Jake to see sense day.’ How will you feel when Paige stops crying over you and finds someone else?”
He didn’t want to think of her crying over him. And he didn’t want to think about walking into the restaurant and seeing her with some guy next to her. Holding her hand. Making her laugh. Snuggling up to her at night.
Sweat cooled the back of his neck.
“If you think you’re protecting Paige by staying away from her, then you’re deluding yourself. She doesn’t want to be protected, Jake—she never did. She wants to live her life, every minute of it. She’ll take the laughs and she’ll take the blows, because she knows that’s what living is all about. Ups and downs. Laughter and tears. You need to decide if you want to be part of that life or not. And you need to make that decision. Your mother made hers. Now you need to make yours, but most of all you need to stop connecting those two things.”
“I came here thinking you’d give me a hug, feed me and make it all better.”
“I’ll give you a hug and I’ll feed you, but the only person who can make it better is you. In the end we make our own choices.” Maria sighed. “Do you think I like seeing you suffer like this? It kills me. But you’re my son, and when a mother sees her son doing something stupid, she says so. It’s a duty. Now go and talk to Paige.”
“She probably won’t talk to me.”
“She doesn’t need to talk. She’s already said everything she wants to say. Now she needs to hear you doing some talking. And you’d better make sure you use the right words.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Happy endings aren’t only for fairy tales.
—Eva
ONE OF THE MANY good things about running your own business, Paige reflected, was that you could work whenever you wanted to, including the middle of the night and on Saturdays.
Work anesthetized the pain in her heart.
Eva was upstairs in their apartment testing a recipe and updating her blog, and Paige and Frankie had chosen to work on Frankie’s kitchen table rather than go to the office.
Her phone rang.
Because she knew it wasn’t a client, Paige ignored it.
Frankie glanced across and saw the number. “It’s Jake. Again. Fifth time. Want me to tell him where to go?”
“No.” Her fingers shook on the keypad. “Let it go to voice mail.”
“Are you sure? The guy obviously has something to tell you.”
“He can tell it to my voice mail. I’ll speak to him when I feel ready.” And that would be when she was sure she could do it without making a fool of herself. She tapped her tablet screen and brought up her to-do list. “Did you get that request about surprise flowers for a wedding anniversary?”
“I did. Came through the app, which, by the way, is genius. It’s handled and they’re going to be the happiest couple in Manhattan.”
The app was genius, but she didn’t want to think about the app, because thinking about the app made her think about Jake and she was trying not to do that. “One of our clients put in a request for their roof garden to be maintained.”
“I’m going over there Monday to talk to them, and I’m taking Poppy, who I’ve worked with a million times.”
“Poppy? British Poppy with the cute accent and the smile like a lightbulb?”
“That’s her. She needs the work and she’s good.”
“Why does she need the work?”
“Because she wants to stay in New York. I guess she wants to keep a large ocean between her and the rat boyfriend who slept with her friend.”
“Enough said. The work is hers.” Paige went back to her list and Frankie hesitated.
“Did you get any sleep last night?”
“Not a lot. I spent the night rehearsing what I’ll say to Jake next time I see him. I need to order a new lipstick to give me confidence.”
“I might be able to help with that.” Frankie thrust a package at her and Paige took it.
“You bought me lipstick?”
“It always seems to cheer you up.” Frankie played it down. “I don’t get it myself, but hey—whatever works for you. Eva and I went through your makeup drawer to try and find a color you didn’t have. Most people
have a bag, by the way. You and Eva are the only people I know who need an entire drawer.”
Touched, Paige opened the bag. “When did you buy this?”
“I was banging on the door of Saks the moment they opened.”
“You hate Saks.”
“Yeah, but I love you.” Frankie’s tone was rough, and Paige felt warmth rush through her.
“You’re the best,” she murmured. “I have the best friends.” She examined the lipstick. “I love it. It’s perfect. And now I feel almost ready to talk to Jake.”
She’d rehearsed the meeting in her mind and knew exactly how she was going to behave when she saw him. He’d be expecting tears. There wouldn’t be tears. He’d be expecting her to be bruised and wounded. She’d be strong. All wounds would be kept firmly on the inside, held together from bleeding with lashings of willpower and female fortitude.
Her priority was to make sure that this hiccup didn’t interfere with their friendship.
That was the most important thing now. More important than her own feelings. Those would heal in time. And if they didn’t heal, she’d learn to live with a little more damage to her heart. Another scar, only this one wouldn’t be visible.
The next time her phone rang it was a client and she took that call and gave it all her attention. And the same for the next one.
She’d get through this, a call at a time. A minute at a time. A day at a time.
And the next call that came thrilled all of them.
Eva rushed into the apartment, her phone in her hand. “Matilda is getting married—she wants us to organize it!”
“She wants us to organize it?” Paige closed the document she was working on. “We’ve never done a wedding.”
“It’s no different to any other event.” Frankie reached for her can of drink. “Food, drink, guests, music, flowers and a big mess to clear up at the end. At least this time it’s for a friend. Of course we can do it. Unless you’d find it difficult?”
“Of course not. Why would I find it difficult?”
“Because she’s getting married and that means romantic mush and Jake will probably be there—”
“And I’ll be too busy to notice the guests. Say yes. Of course we’ll do it.”