At least that’s what she kept telling herself.
She adjusted her skirt on the bar stool and glanced around the bar to see if Jackson had arrived. No sign of him yet.
He’d continued to call her, leave messages for her, and generally grovel to her until she’d agreed to meet him for a drink during lunch. His familiar voice had been such a welcome contrast to the reporters’ calls, she couldn’t resist.
If nothing else, she figured she could confirm to herself that she and Jackson were finished.
And if not…If there was still something there, then she’d know. She might be willing to give him another chance.
After all, if there was anything she’d learned from Zane, it was that great sex did not make a relationship. She’d already invested a year in building something with Jackson, and a small part of her wanted to salvage that investment.
A few minutes later, she spotted him sitting at a window table. He must have missed her at the bar and gotten a table. When their eyes met, he flashed a tentative smile.
This was the newly chastened Jackson, the one who’d kept calling even though she’d never returned his calls, the one who’d figured out Naomi was a girl worth begging for.
She couldn’t quite decide how she felt about him now. Should she give him a second chance? Did she want to? Or did she just want to get even?
She swallowed her doubt and headed across the room.
The thing about casual flings, Naomi had learned the hard way, was that she wasn’t cut out for them. She just didn’t have the constitution to fling, apparently.
Since saying goodbye to Zane, she’d lost all enthusiasm for her plan to get even with Jackson by sleeping with him one last time to remind him what he was missing. But she also didn’t like to leave loose ends untied, so when he’d called again yesterday, she’d seen it as an opportunity to tie a nice, tidy bow.
Or maybe she’d just lost her freaking mind.
Jackson stood and flashed a wide grin, then gave her a warm kiss on the cheek.
She didn’t recoil in disgust, so that had to be some kind of small progress.
“You look amazing,” he said as they sat.
“Thanks. I guess being single suits me,” she said on impulse.
His smile disappeared. “I’m glad you finally agreed to talk to me. I feel bad about the way we left things, and I’ve been worried about you since the news hit about your dad.”
“I know. I heard your messages.”
“I just want to say in person that I’m sorry. I behaved like an ass, and I absolutely deserved what I got. Will you accept my apology?”
Naomi smiled and relaxed a bit. “Yes.”
“I ordered your favorite,” he said as a waitress set a white wine on the table in front of Naomi.
“Thanks.”
His assumption felt so homey and comfortable, and he had known exactly what she’d want to drink. Maybe he did deserve a second chance….
“I just opened up my new office right across the street,” he said, referring to his architecture business.
He’d been working with another firm for years and had finally gone solo.
“Wow, congratulations. I’d love to see it.”
He smiled. “I was hoping you’d say that. So what’s been going on with you?”
“I picked up a few new clients, one of them pretty high-profile,” she said, feeling vaguely nauseous to talk about Zane. “And I’ve been getting lots of calls in the past few days.”
Naomi examined her physical reaction to Jackson after not having seen him for a while. She didn’t exactly want to climb over the table and attack him, but then again she never had. He looked good, with his blond hair clipped short and his designer work clothes selected with care. The first thing that had attracted her to him was his ability to dress well. He’d had style, and she’d liked that he was one person in her life she didn’t have to worry about improving.
“You know, there’s some extra space in my building. Maybe you should consider opening an office there so you can have a proper place to meet with clients.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I doubt I could afford the overhead.”
“Actually, I’m already paying rent on the space—it’s just an extra office that came with the property I’m renting, so I could give it to you at a bargain price.”
Naomi shrugged, her practical-about-love side warring with her practical-about-money side. “Well…I’ll take a look.”
If she and Jackson could be strictly friends, then maybe his cheap office space in such a prime business location would be a great opportunity for her. But if they were going to give it another go…Better not to play what-if games right now.
She listened as Jackson launched into the details of a library project for the city he’d just taken on, and she felt as if they’d never been apart. It was as though their breakup hadn’t even happened, as though she’d never stumbled on Jackson having his late-night rendezvous with her computer. She wasn’t sure if she liked the comfortable rhythm of their relationship, or if she found it stifling.
Fifteen minutes later, they’d finished their drinks, and they left the bar to cross the street to Jackson’s new office. He led her up a set of stairs and into the gleaming work space that he’d just finished setting up.
“Wow, it looks great in here. Did you hire someone to decorate?”
He shrugged. “No, I just remembered the tips you gave me to improve my last office space, and I implemented them here.”
He closed the distance between them and reached out tentatively for her hand. Naomi let him take it, but she stood her ground when he tried to pull her closer.
“What are you doing?”
“Can we pick up where we left off?” he said. “I’ve missed you like crazy.”
She swallowed a lump in her throat.
Did she want to go back to him? Maybe Jackson really was her Mr. Right, and she’d never know for sure unless she gave him another chance.
Maybe Zane had been the catalyst she needed to really let loose with a man who was ready for a commitment. Maybe now Jackson could pleasure her in a way he couldn’t have before.
Or maybe this was the chance she’d imagined, the chance to show him what he was missing with her, and then dump him cold.
She looked down at his large hand holding hers, his thumb caressing her skin, and she felt…nothing.
Revenge wasn’t worth humiliating herself for. And Jackson wasn’t worth wasting another second of her life with.
Their relationship was never going to work, not after she’d felt the kind of intensity that Zane had shown her.
“No, I’m sorry,” she finally said. “There’s just no way. The office space, us—none of it will ever work.”
“But—”
She twisted her hand out of his grasp and edged toward the door. Feeling freer than she had in a long time, certain in the knowledge that if she had to choose between having no relationship and having the kind of tepid one she’d shared with Jackson, she’d take the first option any day.
“I’ve got to go,” she said.
Jackson stared dumbfounded at her, his face registering confusion. “What’s wrong?”
“Us. This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have met you for drinks, and I shouldn’t have come here.”
“Then why did you?”
“I thought maybe I wanted to make this work with you, but I see now I was wrong.”
“What is this—some kind of punishment for me? You let me think we could get back together, and then you turn cold and bitchy?”
“We’re just not right for each other. I’m sorry,” she said as she reached the office door and opened it.
“Don’t leave without talking,” he said, raking his hand through his hair.
“Don’t call me anymore. There’s nothing else to say except goodbye.”
NAOMI SAT AT HER DESK in her favorite purple satin pj’s, eating doughnuts and feeling sorry for herself. She clicked the play bu
tton on her monitor and watched the Internet video clip of Zane’s old news report for what must have been the twentieth time. His cocky attitude, his wild hair, his old leather jacket—she loved it all. She was sorry she’d ever changed a hair of his appearance.
In the week since her meeting with Jackson, she’d started to realize how special what she and Zane had was, and how much she was throwing away by not giving them the chance she’d set out to give them the night she’d broken into his apartment.
When her phone rang, the sound startled her out her trance, and she clicked Pause on the video. She answered the cordless on her desk, and from thousands of miles away, her mother’s voice had the same effect on her it always had—instant calming.
“Hi, Mom. How are you?” she said, relief washing over her. She hadn’t realized how badly she needed to talk to someone who knew her heart.
“Doing better than you, apparently. You sound like you just lost your favorite pair of shoes or something.”
Even on the other side of the world, her mother could read her.
“Not exactly.”
“Boy trouble?”
It was just like her mother to try distracting Naomi from ugly truths. She’d never want to talk to Naomi about her father’s affairs, but things needed to be said.
“Mom, we need to talk.”
“I know, sweetie. I know.” Her tone had changed from caring concern to something else. Resignation, maybe.
“I know why you left now. Why you decided to go away on your mission.” And if she’d known years ago, it would have made her mother not seem like such an unreliable element of her life.
“I heard, from your father. I’m sorry you had to find out that way. It should have come from one of us.”
“It’s not really your fault.”
Her mother sighed. “I abandoned you there. That’s how you feel about my absence, isn’t it?”
Tears welled up in Naomi’s eyes, and she felt like a big idiot. By-product of being an only child, she supposed. Her mother could transform her into a little girl with one simple question.
“No,” she lied. “Well, maybe…Sort of.”
“I’m sorry. I should have made it clear it had nothing to do with you.”
“I knew that.”
“But you needed to hear it from me. I was just so desperate to get away and find myself….”
“Have you? Found yourself, I mean?”
“I think so.”
She could see her mother’s crooked smile, the one that managed to be sweet and self-deprecating at the same time.
“I miss you,” Naomi said.
“I miss you, too. But you know, I’m not the same woman I used to be.”
Naomi had seen little changes on her mother’s visits home, changes she’d assumed were a natural part of living in a developing country. “I assumed.”
“I’m not the perfect political wife anymore. I’m pretty lousy at dutifully smiling and nodding these days.”
“What about you and Dad?” Naomi held her breath, dreading and expecting the answer.
“I don’t know, sweetie. We’ve got some work to do.”
“But you’re staying together?”
“I don’t believe divorce would do us much good.”
Naomi didn’t understand her parents’ marriage, and she didn’t envy it, but she breathed a sigh of relief to know it would still be there. Selfish, but true.
“I hope things get better between you,” she said.
“I want to hear what’s got you sounding so down in the dumps.”
“It’s a guy. I’m in love with him, and I don’t know how to tell him.”
“You just say it, my dear. It’s really very simple.”
“But what if he doesn’t love me back?”
“Then he’s crazy and not worth your time.”
Naomi laughed. Sometimes simple wisdom really was the best. “Thanks, Mom.”
“The real reason I called is because I want to tell you myself that I’m coming home for good soon.”
“Because of the scandal?”
“Because it’s time.”
“That’s great.” And it was. Her mother coming home was the best news she’d heard in a long time, Naomi realized. They might never have been close before, but she wanted to see if they could have a better relationship now.
Her mother promised to send an e-mail soon with more details, and they said their goodbyes. When Naomi hung up the phone, she sat staring at Zane’s video image frozen on her computer screen.
Zane. Her big looming problem.
Zane, who didn’t know the crazy truth—that she’d fallen in love with him.
He was everything she’d ever wanted and more. He went beyond the guy of her dreams and showed her how limited her imagination had been when it came to men and sex. She hadn’t known how good it could be until she’d been with Zane.
And now she didn’t want anyone else.
What if he loved her, too?
What if he didn’t?
If he didn’t, she’d die. Or she’d join a convent, or maybe sign on for an Antarctic expedition.
One thing was clear. She was a mess. She’d canceled all her appointments for the week, and she’d developed an obsession with watching the news, hoping to catch a glimpse of Zane.
She couldn’t keep doing this.
She couldn’t keep living her life without knowing how he felt. Without knowing if she really was crazy to love him, or if they had a chance at happiness together.
But she’d tried calling Zane’s apartment, and there’d been no answer for days.
She had to tell him she forgave him for the story—that she knew he had his reasons for reporting it, and that she respected them. And more importantly, she had to tell him how she felt, before she developed a serious case of doughnut ass.
Naomi flipped through her business-card file until she came to Jack Hiller’s card. She picked up the phone and dialed his number. After a couple of rings he answered.
“Hi, it’s Naomi Tyler. I’m actually trying to get in touch with Zane. I was hoping you know where he is.”
“Naomi, hi. He’s in Rome right now and won’t be back for at least another week.”
Rome. For at least another week.
She couldn’t wait another week to see Zane.
“Any chance you have his contact information?” she asked, her crazy heart thudding erratically in her chest as a ridiculous notion formed in her head.
“Actually, I do. Let me find it here for you.”
Naomi listened to the sound of papers rustling, her whole body tense now, ready to spring into action. Ready to fly to Rome, if that’s what she had to do.
16
Rome, Italy
NAOMI HELD ON to the cracked vinyl door handle as her cab weaved and raced along the crowded streets of Rome, swerving to miss pedestrians and mopeds on every block, only occasionally observing traffic signs. She tried to relax and take in the sights of the ancient city for the first time, but the cab ride was making relaxation impossible.
Instead, she focused on the street signs, trying to figure out if they were getting close to Zane’s hotel, only to find herself baffled that every street seemed to change names after a handful of blocks.
Finally the cab came to a halt at the curb in front of a hotel on a busy street, and the address matched the one Jack Hiller had given her. She climbed out and handed the driver the amount of euro displayed on the LCD in the front of the cab, adding a few extra bills for good measure, and gave the driver her best “Grazie.”
She turned and looked up at the hotel where Zane was supposedly staying. Here she was, only moments away from possible humiliation, but she couldn’t turn back now.
She glanced around at the Italians passing on the street, most clad in spring fashions so up-to-date she hadn’t seen them yet in the U.S., and she took a deep breath—a failed attempt to calm the butterflies in her stomach.
She’d definitely lost her mi
nd. She’d started losing it the first time she met Zane, and she could now say with confidence that she was certifiable.
She stepped into the rotating hotel door and found herself in an Old World-elegant lobby, warmly lit by a huge chandelier. She looked at her information about Zane’s location, scrawled on a Post-it note, memorized his room number, and headed for the elevator.
A few minutes later, she was standing in front of Zane’s door. She knocked and waited. No answer. She knocked again. Still no answer.
She glanced down at the room number on the paper and up at the number on the door to confirm she was in the right place. She was, but apparently, Zane wasn’t.
Damn it.
Her visions of a romantic hotel reunion were fading by the second, quickly being replaced by visions of herself alone in Rome feeling like a complete idiot.
Naomi crumpled the paper in her hand and headed back to the lobby. At the reception desk, she made a feeble attempt at asking, “Parla inglese?” And the woman at the reception desk did, quite well.
“How can I help you?” the woman said with a smile.
“I’m looking for one of your guests, Zane Underwood? He’s not in his room, and I was wondering if you have any idea where he might be.”
“Ah, yes. The handsome American.”
She flashed a smile that made Naomi wonder if Zane had already worked his bedroom charms on her. A glance at the woman’s gold-band-clad ring finger assured her, though, that she already had a guy of her own.
“Have you seen him tonight?”
“He asked me just a short time ago where I would recommend he have dinner. I told him the trattoria on the corner is very good.”
She pointed Naomi in the right direction, and Naomi thanked her, then hurried out the door.
Outside again, she wove her way along the crowded sidewalk. Up ahead, she could see a restaurant on the corner, its outdoor tables filled with customers having drinks and people-watching. She scanned the tables, looking for Zane.
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