“Ditto!”
“What?”
“Ditto, you piss me off too,” she replied sulkily.
“I didn’t say you piss me off. I said your petulant swearing pisses me off, but for the record I am now pissed off with you too, so congratulations. Now, for the final time, I have no interest in either of the Carter women. I love and want you, just you, but carry on if you must and then maybe I could call Laine and the three of us could meet up and you could thank her for all that she did for me, which equates to some of the things I do for you, do you remember?” he asked coldly.
Tasha was unsure what to say or do. Everything he said was believable, she did believe it and yet she couldn’t, wouldn’t back down from the bone of contention that was him not telling her about receiving their number. A sharp shard of guilt stabbed her as she briefly remembered that she was the one who had kissed Gerry, but it hadn’t meant anything. She focused on that fact and pushed it from her mind, returning her attention to Jim and the Carter women. He hadn’t kissed either of the Carter women, of that she was certain.
He watched her, expectantly, waiting for her response to his suggestion, not that she believed it really was a genuine one. She knew he would never follow through with meeting up or calling the other woman to thank her because as much as he gained some pleasure from her embarrassment and discomfort he never sought to humiliate her and would never subject her to it in front of or by others.
“Would you like that, Tasha? Should I call her?” he asked, obviously enjoying her uneasiness that was allowing him to regain control of the situation.
“No.”
“Then shall we agree that this conversation is over?”
“Yes,” she almost grunted.
“I still think that attitude needs a slight adjustment and I know just how to do that for you,” It was obvious that she need not reply or comment further.
“Can we just go home? I am sure it must be very bad manners to leave house guests to be entertained by the housekeeper.” Tasha pushed her almost untouched plate away.
“Please eat your dinner and then we’ll go, if that’s what you want,” Jim assured her.
“I’m not hungry.” She was suddenly pouting again. Her mood taking another swing back into uncertainty and insecurity.
“For God’s sake, Tasha. Just eat your lunch and don’t be so childish.”
She looked up, wondering if she found angry eyes looking back at her but that wasn’t what she discovered. He looked frustrated, slightly irked but mainly he looked and sounded exasperated by her and still she chose to push a little more.
“Childish? Why? Because I object to my fiancé accepting numbers from former girlfriends? It’s not even that, it’s the fact that he didn’t even bother to tell me about it. So, where is Sally’s number now?”
The waiter appeared at her shoulder.
“Is everything okay with your meal, madam? I can get you something else if you would rather.” He sounded concerned at her possible displeasure, but looked embarrassed by the obvious atmosphere at the table.
“The food was fine, thank you. I’ve just lost my appetite.” Without any more words or looking at Jim, Tasha got to her feet and headed for the exit.
She found herself outside and considered heading into a nearby shop or in the opposite direction of the car to avoid Jim, but as he appeared she thought that might not be possible. When she looked at his face she wasn’t entirely sure whether running in the opposite direction was still the best option.
“I wasn’t sure whether you’d still be here after your little display in there,” Jim said quietly, but obviously furious at the scene he felt they’d been part of.
“I just want to go home. I do not want to dothiswith an audience,” she replied calmly, hoping it would be reciprocated.
“There is nothisto do, Tasha, only in your head,” he spat. “Now, come on.” He walked off alone towards the car leaving her to follow in his steps.
They were almost home before either of them spoke again.
“You said earlier that you trust me, Tasha. Prove it. You have been cheated on before and I have cheated, but I don’t think I’ve ever given you any real reason to be suspicious of me, have I?” He was calm again, something he hoped would rub off on Tasha because he was done with the shouting, pouting and drama.
“No.” Tasha spoke softly, knowing he’d never done anything to truly make her suspicious. She realised she was overreacting, although she was sorely tempted to throw Mickie into the mix too, but then reasoned that she absolutely believed his account of what had happened between them and had no suspicion of anything more anymore. She wondered whether she should tell him about the kiss she and Gerry had shared, but very quickly pushed that idea from her mind; it was nothing and Jim didn’t need to know because he would undoubtedly consider it to be something.
“Forget about Sally and Laine. You know who and what they were and it was all a very long time ago and they, well, Sally at least was winding you up, baby, and you let her. And look where we’re at now.”
“I know. Sorry. It wasn’t so much that she’d sent you her number, but that you hadn’t even mentioned it. Why is that?”
Jim had just pulled up on the drive in front of the house. “I don’t know, but I had no intention of ever using Sally’s number. Let’s go in.” He got out of the car and looked at her across the roof of the car. “I can’t promise to tell you everything that happens during my day, Tasha, but if it’s important I will. This thing with the telephone number wasn’t important, it amused Bobby, but from him giving it to me I never gave it another thought.”
