“Let’s reign in the fantasy, Diane. I am not a goddess. What I am is Vice President of Mergers and Acquisitions, and as such I’d better get my mortal butt in gear and work on mergers and acquisitions.”
She nodded her head and went to the door. She paused with her hand on the knob. She bit her lip then blurted out, “I’m sorry, Eve. I know you liked him. And I was really hoping he was the one to make you happy.” She went out and shut the door behind her.
Yes, I’d been hoping that same thing. Now that I’d dismissed the possibility, I could be honest with myself and admit that I had liked Jack. A lot. And I’d hoped for a long-term relationship. One with lots of kissing. Possibly one that involved babies with big dark eyes and curly hair. But now that I knew that was not a possibility, I had to dismiss Jack Garcia from my mind and move on.
Ting.
I glanced and saw that it was Jack. Again. I hadn’t acknowledged his earlier text, which was probably his usual morning gif, so he was trying again.
Try all you want, PRTY boy, we are done. And I deleted the text without opening it.
The week was stuffed with work meetings, one-on-ones with reps, follow-ups with customers, and mountains of paperwork. And texts. Mainly from Jack. He texted literally morning, noon, and night. And I deleted them all, unopened.
Thursday morning, as I walked in to work, Diane was just answering the phone. “Duvier International, the office of Eve Lambert. How may I help you?”
Her eyes went wide and as she saw me, she started gesturing at the phone. I knew what she meant. I knew who it was. I shook my head firmly and walked toward my office door. Diane’s professional tones followed me. “I’m sorry. Miss Lambert is unavailable at this time. May I take a message?”
I shut the door on the conversation. I was done. Jack just wasn’t used to hearing the word no. I’d just have to ignore him for a few more days and he’d go away, on to easier pickings. I felt no guilt for shutting him out. He was the one who’d told me that he only wanted to use me for “a good time.” That was not happening.
I put my phone on silent so I could more easily ignore the text that I knew would follow the call, then pulled out my laptop and sat down to work. That insistent, niggling feeling at the back of my brain would go away, too, once I concentrated on work. That’s what I’d always done to silence the unpleasant thoughts. It had worked fine so far, so I’d just keep doing what I was good at.
Chapter 19
I worked hard all day, eating at my desk, and I made significant progress on a new venture proposal that Mr. Frank had asked me to put together. It would involve more travel and a serious amount of negotiating. I was proud of the trust he put in me and worked hard to earn it.
In the evening, as I walked toward the front door of my apartment building, I was feeling ready to kick off my shoes, have a glass of wine, and possibly dive face first into a carton of ice cream. A figure separated itself from the shadows and my first thought was how to get at the can of mace I knew was at the bottom of my bag. I had very little cash on me, but I’d be screwed if they took my laptop.
“Eve, what’s going on?” My heart tumbled down to my ankles, hearing that voice. The pain I’d been carefully holding at bay threatened to drown me. Why was he here? Couldn’t he take a hint? We were done.
“Here, let me help you with your bags.” He reached to take my briefcase. Fool. That would make it easier for me to get to the mace.
“I’m fine, Jack,” I said, stiffly. “I am capable of carrying my own bags.”
“I know you are, hon, I just wanted to…to help. I don’t know what happened. What’s going on, Eve?” His voice broke as he asked the question.
I looked at him for the first time. The pain I saw in his eyes mirrored my own.
“Can I come in? Can we talk? Please? I feel like someone cancelled us and I didn’t get the memo. Please? Can I come in?” His voice quavered with a pleading note.
I didn’t want to hurt him. He hadn’t set out to hurt me. He was just being himself. And I guessed I owed it to him to explain that that was not enough for me.
I sighed and gave a small nod as I turned and walked into the building. Jack held my bags for me as I pulled out my keys to open my apartment door. I resisted the urge to use the mace. I’d let him talk first. There was always time for mace later.
I walked in and Jack followed, closing the door behind him. I put my bag on the entryway table and dropped my briefcase beside it. I hung up my coat, then turned to the kitchen. Jack followed. I didn’t care what his agenda was, I had promised myself a glass of wine and I was going to keep my promise.
I pulled a bottle of red out from under the counter, angrily stabbed the cork with the corkscrew, removed the cork and poured myself a generous glass. I wanted to be a cold selfish bitch, but I could almost feel Grandmère smacking my hand. “Would you like some wine, Jack?” I offered in a chilly tone.
“Yes, please.”
I took down a glass for him and poured. Not as much as mine. Yes, I could be petty like that. I handed it to him and, leaning back against the counter, I asked, “Well? What did you want to talk about?”
“Can we sit down, please?” he asked.
I heaved a large sigh and said, “Fine.” I led him to the kitchen table, and we sat. Awkwardly.
“Eve, I feel so much hostility from you, and I have no idea why. What did I do? One minute we were having an amazing time and the next you ran away. What did I do to make you hate me like this?”
I took a long sip of wine, letting it roll over my tongue, savoring the flavor. It would be better with cheese. And bread. I set my glass down, got up, and started to prepare a cheese plate. I knew I was avoiding the difficult conversation.
