“I’m so relieved that you understand that.” He paused as if measuring his words. “Lizzie was—”
“Why are we even talking about her?” I interrupted, wanting to forget about his ex and get back to our indulgently romantic holiday, to our own little world.
“I just want to be clear with you regarding—”
“It’s clear.” I kissed him. “You love me. I’m your wife. That woman is twenty years in the past. Let’s leave her there. Now, loosen up. We’re on vacation.”
He paused, but then his face cleared. “You know what would loosen me up?” He waggled his brows and kissed me deeply. Heatrolled through me. “Do you want to go back to the room?” he asked against my lips.
“As if you have to ask.”
It had been a long time since Ali used the chemistry between us to create a diversion. Only this time was different. Instead of attempting to divert me, it felt like Ali was trying to distract himself.
Chapter Thirty-One
Now
I stared at the stranger standing in front of me. “You’re Jake Barnes?”
“In the flesh.” He examined my face. “Are you OK?”
Was I losing my mind? “That’s not possible. I’ve met Jake Barnes.”
His brow lowered. “I don’t think we’ve ever actually met. Would you like to sit down? You look a little pale.”
I shook my head in little frantic motions. “I’m ... I’m a bit confused.” The elevator dinged, and a group of men in suits got off, talking loudly, joking about the most recent Washington football game.
“Come,” the man claiming to be Jake said kindly, putting a light hand to my elbow to guide me past the reception desk. “Let’s go where we can talk in private.” He showed me to the conference room and pulled out a wheeled leather chair for me.
“Thank you,” I rasped as reality sank in. If this was the real Jake, then who was Fake Jake? Who was the total stranger that I had allowed into my house?
“Let me get you some water.” He returned with a bottle and pulled out a chair to sit opposite me.
“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” he asked. “Maybe I can help.”
“I don’t know where to start.” I took a sip of the cold water to settle myself.
“How about at the beginning? Why did you come to see me?”
“A few weeks ago, a man who said he was Jake Barnes called. He wanted to come by and pick up Ali’s computer.”
I registered the doubt in his face.
“Are you sure he said his name was Jake Barnes?”
“I’m positive.” I took a breath and told him everything about my interactions with Fake Jake since Ali died. How he’d picked up the computer and dropped off the contents of Ali’s desk.
“Well, that obviously wasn’t me,” he said with a frown. “And I definitely don’t like the idea of someone impersonating me.”
“But how did this person come to have the contents of Ali’s desk? And he just recently dropped off some notebooks Ali wrote in. Did the firm ever get Ali’s laptop back?”
“We did. I think Bill Warren picked it up.”
“Who’s Bill Warren?”
“One of our colleagues.”
I remembered that I had an office number for Fake Jake. I fumbled around in my purse for my phone. “Here it is.” I pulled up the contact and showed it to the real Jake.
