- Alex -
immy didn’t say much after we got in the car, and I found his silence almost as depressing as the cell he’d just broken me out of.
“You want to come in?” I asked as he pulled into my driveway.
“Depends,” he said, the engine still running.
“On?”
“On whether you’re going to explain what the hell is going on with you or not.”
“And if I’d rather just have a quiet beer?”
“You can do that by yourself.”
I groaned and let myself out of the car.
He switched off the ignition and followed a moment later.
I punched in the code for the garage and watched my green Jag come into view, feeling bittersweet about the fact that I could drive it again. After all, the jig was up. My cover was well and truly blown. Even worse, I’d blown it with Gemma. I could see it in her eyes as she walked away from the police car.
My chest tightened at how terribly I’d disappointed the woman I loved, whether she believed that or not.
Jimmy followed me through my bank-breaking mud room, with its fancy storage features and custom built-ins. My mom designed it in the hope that it might make my life easier once she was gone, as if having a handy place to fold clothes would cushion the blow of her death. My cleaning lady seemed to like it, anyway.
“Drink?” I asked, passing through the high-ceilinged sitting room towards the kitchen area, which was all gray marble and sleek, matching cabinets.
“What are my choices?”
I pulled the fridge open and stared at the row of craft beers stacked at the bottom. “Stout or lager.” I knew better than to offer him wine. Jimmy only drank wine when he was trying to impress women, and there were no women here…which never really bothered me until now.
“Stout,” he said, slumping on my couch and staring out the back windows into my dark yard.
I popped the caps off two brown bottles and glanced at my watch. Gemma would be home a few hours now. I wondered if her small bed would feel roomy without me in it and whether I’d be able to fall asleep without her warm body in my arms, the scent of her dark hair on the pillow.
“Thanks,” Jimmy said when I handed him his beer.
I took a seat in my favorite leather recliner before bringing my chilled bottle to my lips.
“So,” Jimmy said eventually.
“So.”
“You going to tell me what happened?”
“I already told you,” I said. “The guy attacked me when I tried to stop him from trashing Gemma’s car.”
“No offense, Alex, but you aren’t exactly the kind of guy most men would go out of their way to attack.”
How times had changed. “We’re not talking about someone who’s right in the head.”
“That explains why he wasn’t even eligible for bail.”
“What?”
“I heard two officers discussing his previous offences.”
I perked up in my chair, forgetting all about my sore face.
“He’s obviously a disturbed individual.”
“What did they say?” I asked. “What did he do?”
“Mostly destruction of property,” he said. “At least based on what I overheard.”
I took a sip of my beer and hoped he would keep talking.
“Along with some reported domestic abuse.”
So it was all true. Everything Gemma said. Not that I doubted her, but I suppose part of me didn’t want to believe it. How had she ever let that asshole lay a hand on her? I clenched my jaw and wished I’d hit him harder.
“I still don’t get why he was trashing her car.”
“He’s her ex,” I said. “He was probably doing it because he can’t abuse her anymore.”
“Jesus, really?”
I nodded.
“So why call me to bail you out?”
“What?”
“Well, surely she’s dying to express her gratitude for you coming so valiantly to her aid.”
I sighed. “Not exactly.”
He raised his eyebrows.
I recalled the look on her face when she was trying to guess what my news might be. Why had I gone along with the game? Why hadn’t I just divulged the truth?
“Does she still care about the guy or something?”
“No. I don’t think so.”
“So…?”
“She thought I was someone else, Jimmy. She thought I was her employee. She only found out the truth when I was getting cuffed.”
“What?”
“I was going to tell her,” I said. “I was going to explain everything tonight because I couldn’t keep up the charade any longer. Not when my feelings for her are so real.”
“Do you love her?”
I didn’t answer.
“Have you told her?”
I picked at the label on my beer. “Only recently.”
“Damn.”
I tipped the bottle against my lips.
“I guess I’m not surprised.”
“No?”
He shook his head. “That day I promoted her, I could see it.”
“See what?”
“Why you liked her,” he said. “Why you thought she was so special.”
“Go on.”
“She reminded me of how you used to be.”
“How do you mean?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “She seemed so driven. And so in love with the place. Our conversation felt like the kind you and I used to have in the early days, when we were just getting things going.”
I thought of how she’d been watching Ted Talks on leadership and asking the staff what improvements they thought might benefit the place. It was exciting to see her in action, to watch her inspire those around her with her passion. No wonder the board had seemed so lackluster the last two years. Ambition and vision are supposed to trickle down, not up.
“What do you think she’s going to do when you sell?”
“I’m not going to sell.”
He leaned forward. “What?”
“I’m not going to sell.”
He stared at me through wide eyes. “Really?”
“Really.”
He jumped off the couch and pulled at his own hair. “Are you serious?!”
I leaned back in my chair and prayed I wouldn’t live to regret nodding.
He punched the air and spun in a circle, nearly kicking my glass coffee table. “That’s fantastic news!”
My heart lifted at seeing my best friend so happy, and I hoped the rest of my colleagues would feel the same.
“What made you change your mind?”
“I’m not sure,” I said. “Though I think your stupid experiment had something to do with it.”
His smile broadened.
“I guess it helped me see that we have room for improvement, room to grow. And I see now how we can do it.”
“The team is going to be so excited! How soon are you going to share the news?”
“At the meeting next week,” I said. “As promised.”
He started pacing by the window, his eyes darting back and forth as if they were tracking his racing thoughts.
“Sit down, Jimmy.”
“I can’t. I’m too excited.”
“Please,” I said. “You’re making me nervous. Not to mention celebrating prematurely.”
He froze. “Why? What could go wrong? This is your decision.”
“That may be,” I said. “But I can’t do it alone.”
He scoffed. “You don’t need to worry about that! The whole team is going to back you on this.”
“I don’t doubt that, but I need more than the board behind me.”
His brows came together.
“I need Gemma.”
He shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
“I can’t do it without her.”
“You mean you don’t want to do it without her.”
“Call it what you want,” I said with a shrug. “But if she won’t work with me, the deal’s off.”