He was busy, she knew.And if nothing else, if he didn’t answer, she’d take it as a sign and move on.
Ring.
Ring.
“Naomi…happy new year?”
She didn’t know what she was doing, except within two seconds of hearing his voice, she lost it.Phone against her ear, she sobbed.
“Where are you?”
She sent him the address against her better judgment; not because she didn’t want him there, but because she didn’t want to drag him away from his party, the one he’d wanted to go to, the one he’d talked about attending for weeks.
If she were being honest about the situation, she’d admit only to herself, that she’d agreed to attend the party thrown by her college friend because Jason had secured a sought-after invite to the New York Jewish Culinary Association’s New Year’s Eve Gala…and she didn’t want to distract him.
“You’re not far,” he said, his voice bringing her back to reality and comforting her in ways she didn’t want to think about.“Wait for me.”
“I…”don’t want to be alone.Not that she’d ever tell him that, but slightly inebriated, convinced her cousin’s wedding to his best friend was going to fall apart, was the closest she’d gotten…until the words got stuck.“I’m alone,” she finally continued, hoping he’d get the message.
“I’ll stay on the line as long as I can,” he said.“I’ll be there soon.I promise I won’t hang up.”
She nodded, moving under a streetlamp close to the bar and the partying going on outside…
*
“Hi,” he said.“I’m here.”
Jason Greenblatt was unmistakable.
Dark brown eyes, a huge fluffy curl to his hair when he let it go, strong shoulders.A strong jaw.
And arms she’d always seen as a safe place.
“Jason,” she managed, the words sounding strange to her own ears.“I’m…”
Instead of trying to speak further, Naomi relaxed into the arms Jason held out for her.The warmth of his embrace started to defrost the fear that had settled into the depths of her stomach.“I don’t know what to do,” she half whispered into his chest.
He held her closer, and she could feel the outline of his chest through his winter coat by touch.“Come on,” he said.“Let me take you somewhere.”
She nodded; she didn’t tell him she’d follow him anywhere.
*
Naomi Nachman.
One call from her and he raced to her side.
He’d always come when she called.Especially when she sounded like this.Defeated, her voice scratchy from tears this superwoman never cried.She was beautiful; long dark hair, hazel eyes that called him home, and a body that he considered a work of art.
But even in the light of the dying streetlamp, he could see she’d been crying; if he hadn’t heard the evidence, seeing her eyes all red and the dark smudges from her ruined makeup, drove the point home.
Seeing Naomi like this—defeated, upset, disheveled—wrenched Jason into pieces.She was one of the strongest people he knew, the rock he could count on in his darkest hours.She’d been his shoulder so many times that he’d almost forgotten who he leaned on before that fateful day five years before.
What could he do?How could he bring her comfort aside from continuing to hold her?
And then he knew.Naomi needed to be fed to distraction.That meant a place she hadn’t tried yet, where she’d be fascinated enough with the food in a way that would let her discuss what was making her hurt so badly.
And cry.