the window that looked into the hall. Since I needed all the Patricia’s-coming warning I could get, I moved it to the right corner of my desk.
I sat back down in my cushy chair and twisted to my computer monitor. Thinking I should e-mail Steph about this turn of events, I pulled up my inbox. At the top was a new message from Jake. My pulse quickened, thumping through my head as I moved my cursor over his name and clicked the message.
I ran a couple of scenarios for you and attached the worksheet. One with Nadine and one without her. You might want to take the information to your boss and use it as leverage. Seeing the kind of business you and Nadine pull in, I think Patricia would be a fool not to agree to the terms you want. Just remember that being happy is worth the risk.
Good luck with everything,
Jake
After rereading the message, I opened the attachment. I stared at how he’d pulled together all the information I’d given him.
I could hardly believe it.
Not only were the figures staggering, I found it hard to believe Jake would work this hard putting the information together for me, despite our breakup. Tears were rising, burning my throat and my eyes. I blinked like crazy, trying to get ahold of my emotions before I was the girl crying in her office.
Nadine stuck her head in the doorway. “Ready to go?” She stepped farther into my office. “Nice flowers. From Jake, I’m assuming.”
Her forehead puckered. “What happened to Jake? And Porter? Is he visiting or is he—”
“I’ll explain everything on the way to Barbara’s. Just give me a second.” I printed the worksheet Jake had e-mailed me. When my printer stopped whirring, I reached over and retrieved the paper. Holding the key to my and Nadine’s freedom made me want to jump up and down like a little kid.
…
Nadine lifted her binder from my coffee table and shoved it into her laptop bag. “So we’re really going to do this?”
“If Patricia doesn’t agree to let us choose our own jobs and give us a ten percent bump on every project, we’re walking. If she doesn’t agree,” I said, gesturing around my condo, “this might be our new office. Are you cool with that?”
Nadine took a deep breath. “Let’s do it.”
I said good-bye to Nadine, then tried to breathe out all the stress of the day. The vase of tulips perched on my kitchen counter reminded me that Porter had called earlier. Nadine and I had been going over our game plan, so I hadn’t answered. I lifted my phone off the coffee table. I just had one missed call, meaning Porter hadn’t left a message. I sat there, contemplating what I was going to say when I called him back. Knowing him, he’d already planned out our week together.
Last night he’d said all the right words. He’d sent me flowers. But it was all wrong. I’d gone out with Porter, hoping to prove to myself that Jake was just another guy. But all it had done was show me that he wasn’t. Things were different with Jake. I had fun whether we were chilling at his place, laughing over dinner, or even watching baseball. And I really, really hated baseball. Or used to. Things were getting fuzzy. Plus, Jake took an interest in my life—all parts of my life. And then there was the way his face lit up when he saw me. How he called me gorgeous. The way I felt when he had his arms around me.
I missed him so badly that the ache in my chest overtook my heart, my lungs. I’d worked so hard to keep myself from falling, but I’d completely failed. I was totally in love with Jake.
And instead of just facing my feelings, I’d pushed him away. For what? A guy I wasn’t in love with anymore? Because he’d had a relationship that failed? Because I was an idiot?
Yeah, that last one was probably the right answer.
Deciding a pity-fest was in order, I clicked on the TV. Five minutes of channel surfing didn’t produce anything worth watching, so I got off the couch and walked around my apartment. My plant—the plant that refused to live or die—sat in the window, looking drier than ever.
I picked it up and walked over to my kitchen, planning on watering it. It looked so dead, so gone.
Instead of heading for the sink like I’d planned on doing, I stopped at the trash can. Stepping on the lever that lifted the lid, I hovered my plant over the open mouth, ready to toss it in with the rest of my trash. But there it was—the one green blade that kept on living. I heard Jake’s voice in my head, saying he admired it for not giving up.
I hated signs. Didn’t believe in them. People interpreted them to mean whatever they wanted. But right now, that blade was telling me to go fix things with the guy who’d fought so hard, despite everything I’d put him through.
Question after question ran through my head: What if he’d finally had enough? What if he told me to get lost? What if he’d already moved on?
What if he didn’t love me back?
Just the thought made me want to crumple to the floor. But I was starting to think not knowing was worse than screwing up my one shot at happiness. My head pounded as I considered going upstairs and laying it all on the line.
I glanced at the clock.
The ride up didn’t give me near enough time to prepare. Head spinning, I exited the elevator. With every step I took down the hall, my throat got drier, my stomach clenched tighter.
I stared at Jake’s door for several minutes before gaining the courage to knock.
As I waited, I ran a hand through my hair, fluffing it just so. Then I ran a hand down it, to smooth it back into place. I took the lip gloss out of my pocket and swiped it across my lips.
And then it was clear he wasn’t answering the door.
I retreated a couple of steps, then heard the door open. Slowly, I turned around. “Spontaneous visits. Just one of the advantages of living in the same building.” My voice came out as shaky as I felt.
“I thought there weren’t any advantages,” Jake said, stepping farther into the hall. His hair was wet and his clothes clung to his damp body. Obviously he’d just gotten out of the shower. Despite the nerves churning through my gut, desire burned within me. I wanted my hands in his hair. On his damp skin. Even more, I wanted him to assure me everything would be okay.
I guessed the only way for that to be a possibility was if I got on with the apologizing. “Jake, I freaked out. I didn’t handle that situation at the restaurant very well.”
A no-shit expression crossed his face.
“Or at all, really,” I said. “I guess I just got caught up in everything that could and would inevitably go wrong, that I forgot things might go right. The fact is, there’s nothing really wrong with you.”
Jake crossed his arms, and I couldn’t help but notice the way it made the muscles in his arms stand out. “But?”
I licked my lips, tasting the cherry lip gloss I’d just put on. “There’s no but. What I’m trying to say is that I don’t want to date anyone else, and I don’t want you to, either. I want to say we’re in a relationship and do everything that people in relationships do, from the light and fun to the serious, to everything in between. Unless I’ve already scared you away and you want to run in the other direction.” At intense moments like these, I tended to try to joke things away. “Although, since we live in the same building and we constantly bump into each other, that’s going to be awkward for you.”
“You’re wrong.”
My heart stopped, I swear it did. “Oh. I’ll just go, then.”
