“You should have invited me in,” he said. “That was your first error in judgment. Insisting on a public meeting place was your second. Oh, there was the phone threat. I almost forgot that. I’ve got to tell you that if you back up now, you’ll completely give yourself away. It’s still there, isn’t it? You and me. You’d like me to believe you’re afraid of me, but that isn’t it at all. You’re afraid of yourself.”
When she didn’t reply, he flashed his devastating grin, pivoted smartly, and began walking away. He was at the foot of the driveway when she thought of a comeback that didn’t involve shooting him in the ass, although too much time had elapsed to make her retort witty or snappy. She stayed where she was. The light eventually went out and she welcomed the dark as she watched him get into his car. He fiddled with the seatbelt and the radio before he slipped the Audi into gear and gave it gas. The car rolled away almost silently, which was decent of him given the lateness of the hour and the proximity of her neighbors, but she wasn’t surprised when he tooted his horn two shorts and a long before he reached the corner.
In so many ways, he was a child.
Ramsey slept fitfully, which was to say she hardly slept at all. After four years, she had really begun to believe she’d left Jay Carpenter in her past. He was a lesson learned and not one to be repeated. He was wrong that there was still something between them. Even before the end of their marriage, there hadn’t been anything there, and if he truly believed it was otherwise, it was his massive ego that was confusing him.
Sullivan texted her as she was getting ready for bed, wishing her a good night and pleasant dreams. It was the first time he’d done that. Her thumbs hovered about the keyboard as she considered a reply, but in the end, she simply set the phone down on the nightstand and left the text unanswered.
She lay awake for a long while, tossing and turning at first, then flopping hard onto her back and staring somewhat mutinously at the ceiling. She could not quiet her mind. Questions tumbled. Answers did not.
Had Jay been serious when he said he’d never stopped looking for her, or had he said that because he thought it would show him in a better light? At the time of their divorce, she’d given him no hint that she intended to leave Baltimore. She certainly never breathed a word that her plan included changing her name. Neither had occurred to her just then. Later, when she realized what she had to do, there were still moments when she believed the name change was an unnecessary precaution. He made it necessary, though, when he wouldn’t leave her alone. After the divorce she still heard from him daily. Sometimes it was multiple phone calls. The texts came in bunches. It was nothing to get forty of them in any twenty-four-hour period. He showed up at the door of her apartment so often that she moved in with a girlfriend not only for her own safety but because she wanted a witness. She recorded enough threats and screen shots of the texts to get a protective order.
The order slowed him down for a couple of weeks, but it didn’t stop him, and she hesitated to enforce it by calling the police because of his job. It was never her desire to ruin him. Now she wondered if he had ruined his lucrative prospects with Willow Garden Health on his own. It was entirely possible, given his habits, and yet he had managed to find cover for himself for years. Had leaving Jay made him less able to protect himself? Did that make her responsible for whatever happened in the intervening years? It didn’t, not in her mind. But what he thought was likely altogether different.
Ramsey reined in her tumbling thoughts. She knew she was getting ahead of herself. She had no evidence that Jay was in any kind of trouble, and if he was, she bore no responsibility for it and no reason to believe it was up to her to help him. That was old thinking. Dangerous thinking.
How did his mere presence provoke those thoughts?
Ramsey yanked on a spare pillow, put it over her face, and used it to smother her frustrated groan. In the quiet that followed, she pushed the pillow away and waited for her breathing to ease. She felt herself drifting off when she remembered the alarm. Bolting upright, she tried to recall if she’d turned it on. Setting it was such a matter of course, done by rote every night, that sometimes she had no distinct memory of arming it. Ramsey threw off the covers, rolled out of bed, and padded to the front door. The alarm was on. Of course, it was. She shouldn’t have doubted herself, but this feeling of uncertainty was part and parcel of being in Jay’s presence. She didn’t think she was that woman any longer.
But maybe she was.
29
Ramsey arrivedat the restaurant at six thirty-five. Jay was already seated and looking over the menu. She removed her jacket, tossed it on the seat, and slipped into the booth opposite him.
“You’re late,” he said by way of a greeting. He closed the menu and set it aside before he lifted his head to look her over. “I see your hair and a hairbrush are still strangers.”
They weren’t, Ramsey could have told him, but she’d only given her hair a few cursory strokes before she’d gathered the whole of it in another haphazard knot near the top of her head. In response to his criticism, she tucked a few flyaway tendrils behind an ear and was immediately disappointed in herself for it.
“I didn’t hear my alarm,” she said and wondered why she believed she had to explain herself. The whole truth was that when she finally fell asleep, she slept hard, and theStar Warsoverture that she used as her alarm ringtone was almost at the end before she heard it. The Force was not with her this morning.
“I suppose that means you’ve cut our time short,” he said. “You said something about having to go to work.”
“I called. They know I’m running behind.”
“And that’s acceptable?”
“It’s tolerated because it’s rare.”
“Hmm.”
Ramsey heard considerable disapproval in the murmur. She picked up a menu and pretended to look it over. The waitress appeared with coffee and creamer. Ramsey took the opportunity to tell her she wanted separate checks.
“Why did you do that?” Jay asked when the waitress left. “I told you, you’re buying.”
“I didn’t agree, did I?” She closed the menu, set it on top of his. “Whatever the state of your finances, I’m confident you can afford your own breakfast.”
Rather than reply, he picked up his coffee cup and sipped.
Ramsey added two creamers to hers before she drank. She caught their waitress’s attention when she passed and put in her order. Jay asked for the same, which she doubted had been his intention before she indicated there would be separate checks.
Ramsey unfolded her napkin, put it on her lap, and neatly arranged her silverware. “Are you prepared to tell me why you’re here? The real reason, Jay. I’m not inclined to listen to bullshit.”
Jay’s carefully groomed eyebrows lifted. “The vulgarity is beneath you, Liz.”
Ramsey did not engage.
