Guarded, page 14
“Look, all I’m saying is, there’s a hot guy who comes in here every weekday morning who only has eyes for you, girl. Take advantage!”
I sigh, wishing not to acknowledge that she’s right—again. Henry does come in regularly, now. While he doesn’t ask me out anymore, he’s not shy about flirting with me. I know his dinner offer still stands, I’m just not so sure that it’s fair of me to take him up on it.
“Oh, come on,” she practically whines. “At least tell me you’re smart enough to actually think about it.” I stop what I’m doing and look over at her once more. Lifting her eyebrows at me, she asks, “Do I really need to remind you how often we get fresh meat around here? This construction crew is like an entire buffet, Jill! Don’t want hot Henry? Pick someone else! Just—don’t let all that sunshine go to waste.”
She frees a sigh, as if her work here is done, then walks toward me and snatches the rag right out of my hands. “I’m going to make myself useful and wipe down some tables. You think on that.”
I watch her go, not so sure that I want to think on that. It’s been two weeks since Leo walked out on me. After two weeks of silence, one would think that I’d be ready to forget I knew him at all. However, in this case, I’m convinced there’s something to be said about closure. I was left with more questions than answers, which has made it difficult to forget.
I can’t argue with Ruth, though. If we were keeping score, she’d be winning this morning. New faces around here—people who stay for more than a weekend—they’re few and far between. While there is something to be said about closure, there’s also something to be said about persistence. Ruth is right—again. Maybe a date with Henry wouldn’t hurt.
CH: Need to talk. ASAP!
I don’t bother responding to Corie’s text. Setting aside my computer, I stretch out on my sofa before I give her a call.
“Hello?” she answers on the second ring.
“Hey, babe. What’s up? Everything okay?”
“What happened?”
In spite of the fact that she can’t see me do it, I scrunch my face in shame. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“Jill!”
“You just got married!” I exclaim. “What was I supposed to do? Call you on your wedding night and tell you that he just walked out?”
“Well—no. But that was two weeks ago.”
Sweeping my hair behind my ear, I don’t bother offering up any further arguments. I don’t have any good excuses. I just didn’t tell her. The last conversation we had about Leo was harmfully hopeful, and I didn’t want to go there again—not on the heels of her newlywed status. As much as she cares for my well-being, I know that she’s biased toward the idea of true love. I understand that’s the season that she’s in, and I would never, ever hold that against her. She deserves it. But she cares about the both of us, so I’m certain she’d fight for the both of us, and I don’t want her to do that.
Not wishing to explain myself, I deflect and ask, “How did you find out?”
“He’s…different. I’ll admit, it took me a couple days to notice, but it’s quite apparent now that I see it. I’ve been waiting for you to call me and give me an update, but I couldn’t wait anymore. He’s miserable, and I needed to check on you and see what happened.”
Hearing about him awakens an ache in my chest, and I turn onto my side, pulling my knees into my chest as I murmur, “He’s miserable?”
“Well, he’s Leo. He’s not sulking, but by the looks of it, he’s not sleeping very well. Not to mention, he almost got into it with one of the paparazzi the other day. They can get pretty aggressive, but Leo usually keeps his cool. Frank had to step in.”
Not sure how to respond to this information, I don’t respond at all.
“Jill,” Corie coos. “Talk to me.”
“He left. I told him how I felt, and he left. If he’s miserable, it’s his own fault.”
I mean every word, but saying it out loud doesn’t make me feel any better.
“And you?”
“I’m—I’m moving on.”
“Is that really what you want?”
I laugh, though I’m far from amused, and reply, “It’s funny how people keep asking me that, as if he’s given me a choice. He told me to let him walk away. I wouldn’t, but he did anyway. So, you see, there’s only one healthy thing to do here.”
“I wish you weren’t so far away,” she says on a sigh.
“I know. It’s okay, though. Don’t worry about me. You’re about to leave on a great, world wide adventure. Are you ready?”
Thankfully, Corie follows my lead, allowing me to shift the conversation away from me and onto happier things. We talk about the tour, which starts in two weeks, and I can tell how excited she is. That’s enough to lift my spirits and to remind me that there’s always another adventure out there—you just have to be brave enough to go after it.
“Promise me one thing,” she insists before we hang up.
“What’s that?”
“Call me if you need to talk. I might be Mrs. Hicks now, but I’ll never stop being your best friend. Besides, we’re related. You can’t get rid of me.”
Smiling, I murmur, “I love you.”
“I love you back. Talk soon?”
“Absolutely.”
WHILE I WAS getting ready for work this morning, I made up my mind. There’s no sense in hanging onto Leo. I’ve thought about calling him or sending him a text more times than I can count over the last several days, but my fear of rejection is too strong. Something tells me that even if I was brave enough to try and make contact, his silence would take me right back to that hotel room, and I’d have to start the healing process of getting over him all over again. I don’t want to do that. I see no point in doing that—not when someone else, someone kind and chatty, has expressed interest.
From the moment I unlock the front door and open the shop for business, my stomach is knotted with nerves. It’s silly, really, given that the odds are most likely in my favor, but that doesn’t make me any less anxious. When Ruth arrives, I don’t tell her that I plan on taking her advice, just in case I chicken out; but I hope that I don’t.
The morning seems to move by at a snail’s pace, even when business picks up and the construction crew breezes through. With no sign of Henry before or after his men have dropped by, it’s not nervousness I feel so much as disappointment. Then, right when I’m about to take it as some sign from above that I was wrong for even considering the date, the bell chimes, announcing another customer—and there he is.
“Um, I’ve got this one,” I tell Ruth, indicating that I’d like to switch places with her.
She grins at me, stepping aside as she murmurs, “By all means.”
“Good morning,” says Henry, greeting me with his usual, friendly smile.
“Good morning. Large coffee?”
“You got it,” he replies, reaching for his wallet.
I ring him up, all the while combatting the butterflies in my stomach as I try and think of what to say. It isn’t until Ruth sets his coffee on the counter that I work up the nerve to blurt out, “Henry, I think I might be feeling hungry.”
“Yes!” Ruth hisses in excitement.
I can’t stifle my laugh as I turn to swat at her, my cheeks heating up in embarrassment. Henry’s chuckle steals back my attention. When my eyes meet his warm, brown irises, my heart beats a little faster in anticipation of what he’ll say next.
“I was hoping that appetite of yours might come back,” he teases. “How about tonight? Seven?”
“Okay,” I agree with a nod.
“You have my number,” he starts to say, backing his way toward the door. “Tell me where, and I’ll be there.”
He winks at me and then turns to make his exit. The second he steps foot outside, Ruth lets out a squeal from beside me. Hoping that if I ignore her for a moment, she’ll calm down, I watch Henry climb into the cab of his pick-up truck. It isn’t until she bumps her hip against mine that I offer her my attention.
“’Bout damn time.”
“All right, oh-wise-one, stop giving me grief, and help me decide where we should go.”
“The Steakhouse, duh—he’s buying, remember?” she says with an eye roll. “Now, onto more important matters. What are you going to wear?”
I CHANGE MY outfit three times. In the end, I’m not at all convinced that one is better than the other; but if I don’t go, then I’ll be late. After adjusting the spaghetti straps of my short, navy dress, I slip my phone into one of my front pockets, grab my purse, and take my leave. I gave Henry the address to the restaurant instead of my apartment, sure that I would feel more comfortable if tonight was more casual than formal. Not to mention, parting ways at the restaurant leaves no room for an effort to come up to my place.
I’m not entirely sure what Henry’s intentions are. He certainly seems like a nice, genuine guy; I’ll give him that. A meal and pleasant conversation could be all that he’s after, for which I would be grateful—but you never know. The last guy I was involved with was after everything but conversation.
Then again, I set a precedent. This time, I know better.
It only takes me ten minutes to reach The Steakhouse, and I see Henry’s truck in the parking lot when I pull in. The nerves I felt earlier are back in full force, and I allow myself an extra moment to take a couple deep breaths before I climb out of my car and head inside. I find him sitting in the front waiting area, and he stands when he spots me. He doesn’t look much different than when I normally see him, dressed in jeans and a button-up shirt, but he’s still incredibly handsome, so I can’t complain.
“Hi, there,” he says, approaching me with a smile.
“Hi,” I manage.
“I like your hair loose. You look beautiful.” He shoves his hands into his pockets the exact moment that he delivers his compliment. It’s almost as if he’s afraid he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands to himself, otherwise. I decide that I like this about him.
Sweeping a bit of hair behind my ear, I reply, “Thank you.”
He nods toward the hostess station and informs me, “They already have a table for us. Shall we?”
His hands still in his pockets, he offers me his elbow. I smile at him, accepting the gesture as I fit my hand in the crook of his arm and allow him to guide me toward the hostess, who then escorts us to our table.
“So. You’re the connoisseur here. What do you recommend?” Henry asks as soon as we’re left to ourselves.
“They have a really great salmon,” I tell him, not even bothering to look at the list of dinner options. “And there’s this chicken pasta dish my dad absolutely loves.”
A small, amused smile plays at his lips as he looks up from his menu and over at me before he asks, “You brought me to a steakhouse, and you’re recommending chicken and fish?”
Playfully rolling my eyes, I mutter, “Well, if you like that sort of thing—the sirloin is the most popular.”
He shakes his head at me, which makes me laugh, and then our waiter arrives to take our drink order. Henry requests wine, so I follow suit. Before the waiter has a chance to leave, Henry places an order for two salmon dinners. When he looks across the table at me to ensure that I’m okay with that, I nod enthusiastically and then complete my order with my desired sides.
As soon as we’re left alone again, I decide to avoid an awkward silence by kick-starting the conversation. The first thought that comes to mind is, “How long have you been working in construction?”
“I was actually lucky enough to step into my field right after college.”
“Oh, wow. That’s nice. And how old are you?”
Chuckling, he replies, “I’m thirty.”
“And your crew—well, Monte says he’s from Denver. Is that where you’re from, too?”
He grins at me, leaning against the table as he whispers, “Jill?”
Mimicking him, I lean against the table as well before I whisper, “Yes?”
“Am I on some sort of interview right now?”
I suck in a quiet gasp as I sit up straight in my chair, feeling suddenly embarrassed. “I’m asking too many questions, aren’t I?”
“No, never. Never that.” He extends his arm across the table, offering me his hand, palm up. I hesitate for a second before I slide my fingers against his, and he holds them gently. “I don’t mind you asking questions. But you seem on edge. Just relax. This is supposed to be fun.”
“You’re right,” I say on a sigh. “I’m sorry.”
“How about you don’t be sorry, I’ll tell you a little bit about me, and we’ll go from there.”
Feeling relieved by his willingness to be open, and calmed by his kind reassurance, I give his fingers a squeeze and murmur, “That sounds perfect.”
“LEO, COULD YOU hold on a second?” Corie asks, stopping me in my tracks.
I’ve just escorted them home for the evening, Ashley having had a full afternoon of meetings with his label, followed by dinner with his agent and publicist. I’m relieved for the chance to head home at such an early hour. With the sun having just set, I was hoping to get in another quick run and hit the sack early.
When I turn to give Corie my attention, I notice how Ashley stops and does the same. She holds up a finger to me, signaling that she’ll only be a moment, and then turns to him and murmurs something I can’t hear. A slight scowl tugs at his brow as he whispers something in reply, but she answers him with a kiss and another word that has him shaking his head. Before he takes his leave, he speaks softly into her ear and kisses the side of her face. He then looks over at me, offers me a chin lift, and makes his way to his private elevator.
Corie turns back to me, taking a hesitant step in my direction, and my hackles rise. She hasn’t even spoken a word, and I know already that whatever she has to say will have something to do with Jill—and I don’t want to hear it. I do what I can to hide it from her, but it hasn’t been easy keeping my unrest disguised the last couple of weeks.
“I’m just going to give it to you plain, okay?” I don’t respond, but I don’t have to. After a beat of silence, she says, “I don’t know you like Ashley does. You’ve been together for years, and I’ve only had the pleasure of knowing you for the last several months. I won’t pretend that we’re something that we’re not. However, I’m not blind or dumb. I’m new.
“Being with Ashley, working for Ashley, it’s the biggest culture and lifestyle change I’ve ever known. That said, I’ve been taking it all in—all of it—since the moment he first brought me here. That includes you. You mean a lot to him, which means you’re important to me, too. I need you to know that I respect you very much. I also need you to know that I think you’re making a huge mistake with Jill and, to be quite honest, you’re being an asshole.”
Still, I say nothing. I clench my jaw closed in an attempt to restrain myself from losing my temper. The truth of the matter is—I know. The truth of the matter is—it’s the only way. I don’t need her to tell me what I already fucking realize every single second of every single day. Jill deserves far greater than what I am capable of giving. I’ve always known that—I was the asshole who took what I wanted anyway. Now she’s paying for it. I know this because Corie wouldn’t be here talking to me about her if she wasn’t, which makes me more than an asshole.
Taking a step closer to me, she lowers her voice and says, “I don’t know what your problem is, but you’re throwing away something—someone amazing. Whatever it is that I don’t know about you, it doesn’t change the fact that I’ve seen how she affects you. I saw it before the wedding, and I see it now. You might not find that extraordinary, but you are impenetrable. You have this shield around you, and you only let people see what you want them to. Until Jill. Until Jill!
“It’s stupid, Leo! She cares about you, and you care about her, and to walk away from her without so much as a reason—it leads me to assume only one thing. You’re scared. Now you’re angry and scared, and you don’t have to be either. Just…” She pauses for a second, her eyes staring straight into mine. When she looks away from me, it’s only to pull something out of her purse. Then she thrusts a folded piece of paper at me and says, “Fix it. Work it out and be together, or talk it out and don’t. I, of course, have my own opinion as to what I’d like to happen—but I can only butt in so much. So it’s up to you.
“Either way, we leave for Japan in eleven days. Take the next seven off and go fix it. The ticket is yours, and it’s non-refundable. I called Britton this morning. The keys to her house will be at your front door tomorrow morning. I didn’t rent you a car, but I thought you could handle that much. You already know that Jill works at Magnolia’s Coffee House, and she’s there every day except Sundays.”
I’m so caught off guard, I don’t know what it is that courses through my veins. When I don’t reach for the paper in Corie’s hand, she presses it against my chest, raising her eyebrows expectantly. I scowl, not at all sure how I feel about her insistence, but take hold of her offering before she takes a step away from me.
Before she leaves, she murmurs, “I know that you know she’s my best friend. I would do anything for her. But Ashley is my husband. His safety means everything to me. Everything. So, yes, there’s a part of me that’s doing this for Jill. But there’s an even bigger part of me that’s doing this for you. I need you to be at the top of your game when we leave. Go. Do what you have to do, and come back focused.”
She leaves without another word. I don’t mind. As I watch her go, there’s not a single thought in my head. I wouldn’t be able to speak even if she begged me to. What the fuck could I possibly say after all of that? Nothing. Not a damn thing.
She questioned my focus. She questioned my ability to protect Ashley. As much as I would like to argue the validity of her doubt, I can’t. I know that I’m not at the top of my game. I’d never let anything get in the way of my job, but I can’t allow my tempered rage to make me stupid. Stupidity is what gets people hurt.
