Chapter 17
Jack
Last night was good. No, it was much better than good. Jeez. I couldn’t get enough of Laine. I tried to let her sleep, but I kept waking her up, wanting more. And it was more than just fucking. After we got our reunion and hate fuck out of the way, it was a real connection. I dare say better than it ever was before.
I was disappointed that she had to leave so early this morning, but at least she let me drive her to the coffee shop at that ungodly hour. I really hope Frank comes through for her. I don’t want to get her hopes up, but when I read his email, I felt like there was someone out there looking out for her—and for us.
Worldwide Medical Care has their Canadian headquarters in Toronto, but Frank works from his home, which is not far from the hospital. It takes all of my willpower not to reach out and arrange a lunch for the three of us. Instead, I promise to pick her up from work this afternoon and help her come up with a plan. She doesn’t entirely agree to that, but she doesn’t say no either, so I’ll take it.
Until then, I’m going home to get some sleep and a shower. Then, I’ll go back to the hospital to spend the morning with Abdo. He has physical therapy this afternoon, and I set him up with an English tutor to work with him every weekday starting on Monday, so we need to enjoy our free time while he has it. Faheen and Amari’s kids will join him, so they’ll all learn together. The kids should learn better in a group, and hopefully, this will help them be ready when school starts in the fall. The tutor has assured me that kids learn quickly, and kindergarteners’ language skills can vary quite a bit. They may be already speaking on par with some of their classmates.
I walk into the hospital and head directly to the nurses’ station.
“Abdo is in good spirits this morning, but he moved to the bathroom floor in the middle of the night again,” the nurse tells me.
This has become a fairly regular occurrence. The child psychologist believes all the violence Abdo dealt with before leaving Sudan is the cause, so she’s working with him on that.
When I go down to his room, he’s watching a Sid: The Science Kid episode. I’ve seen this one, so I can tell he seems to be laughing and smiling in all the right places. That makes me very happy. When it’s over, I suggest a game. He’s still healing, but I don’t want him spending all his time watching a screen.
He pulls out Bugs in the Kitchen, which I’m still figuring out. It involves a vibrating electronic bug that can move itself semi-randomly around the board, which is a maze with lots of pivoting gates that can trap it. We roll a die and take turns moving the gates, trying to get the bug into a corner to score a point.
Abdo laughs throughout the game, and somehow he kicks my ass again. When his lunch arrives, I wave goodbye and promise to see him tomorrow.
I’m early to pick up Laine, which gives me time to park and go in to get some caffeine and check out the shop. When I arrive, I look around, but I don’t see her. There are a few people sitting and talking, and I walk up to the register. “Is Laine here?”
The barista smiles. “She ran out with the trash. She should be right back.”
“Great. I’ll take a double-shot latte with fat-free milk.”
“Coming right up.”
As I’m waiting, Laine returns and heads to the sink where she does a handwashing that would impress every surgeon I know. “You’re early,” she says as she dries.
“I needed some caffeine.” I look around. “I also thought I would offer to set up a lunch for us with Frank King.”
“No need,” she says with a smile. “I emailed him this morning, and he’s already emailed me back. We’re talking tomorrow.”
I’m a little disappointed I didn’t get to help, but at least, this is another step closer to her quitting Steaming Mugs. I nod, impressed. “On a Sunday? Great.”
A few moments later, she’s clocked out and has her handbag under her arm. She rolls up her apron and stuffs it inside.
“Where shall we go?” I ask as we exit the building.
She whooshes out a big breath of air. “I need to go home and get some sleep. I want to be lucid when I meet Frank tomorrow. And you don’t have to drive me. I can walk from here. It will probably do me good.”
I school my features, trying to hide my disappointment and play it cool. I want to spend the rest of the afternoon with her and all evening. “How about we go back to my place? You can rest there?”
She gives me a tight smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “If we go back to your place, that’s the opposite of getting any sleep.”
“Do you regret what we did?”
She shakes her head. “No. Of course not. I just don’t think it’s a good idea that we do it again.”
My heart stops. “Laine, please don’t do this.”
Something in her face changes. “I said that to you once,” she reminds me softly.
I close my eyes, wishing that wasn’t true. But it is. That’s what she said when I asked her to leave my apartment.
I take a deep breath. “I’ll drop you at home.” That’s a bitter pill.
“Thank you, but it’s stopped raining so I’m going to walk home before the gray skies open up again.” She smiles, and it seems more genuine now. “Thank you for last night. It was fun. And thank you again for sharing my articles with Worldwide Medical Care.”
She turns and leaves me standing on the sidewalk as she walks away.
I hate this, but I can’t say I blame her. I just wish I had a magic wand and could make everything the way it was before. I worry there’s no way we’ll get there again. And since when is that what I want?
When I get home, the rest of the day stretches out before me. I have no idea what to do with myself. It’s Saturday, so I’m sure everyone already has plans. I don’t even bother with my paired-off friends, and instead, I reach out to Griffin. “What are you doing tonight?” I ask when he answers the phone.
“I’m thinking of heading over to Phillip’s club. Did you know this is the last weekend he’ll own a portion of The Lion’s Den? He’s decided to sell. I think it’s because he’s getting serious with Patricia Standing.”
Interesting . “Do you want company?” I ask. Do I? I ask myself. Yes, if that company is Laine. Otherwise, maybe not. But she just told me last night won’t be repeated. “I can be your wingman.”
“Sure,” Griffin says. “Join us. We’ll be there at eight.”
I nod as I psych myself up. There’s no use moping over the past. Laine is replaceable. But in the back of my mind, I know she’s one of a kind. Completely priceless. I can’t believe it took me this long to realize that.
“See you there—oh, and get dressed up. We’re going out with a bang.”
As the sun goes down that evening, I put on my black Tom Ford suit with a black shirt and black tie, and I tell myself I’m ready to have fun. I drive my Acura NSX over to the club and valet park in the VIP section. The pulsing beat of the music hits me as soon as I exit the car, and I can smell the salty ocean, which is just feet away as I walk up to the door and give them my name.
“Your friends are upstairs in the VIP section,” the woman tells me.
“Thank you.”
The VIP suite sits high above the dance floor’s blinking lights and pulsing music. It’s surrounded by glass walls that can be opened and closed. This makes it sort of like being in a fishbowl. But the people-watching is the best.
I find the guys, and shortly thereafter, the server hands me some kind of high-end bourbon. I look down at the dance floor, and it’s hard not to notice Trish in a red, skin-tight dress, surrounded by a sea of people in black. I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me that she would be here. Of course. And then, I spot Laine next to her. She’s wearing a black mini dress that I’m sure I’ve seen Trish in before. I can’t help but smile as I watch her pull the dress down. She has the body for it, but she hates that kind of attention. That’s something I always loved about her.
Trish’s fingers are laced with Laine’s, and I watch them move toward Phillip at the bar. Even from here I can tell he’s got her in a tractor beam. They only have eyes for each other. As they come together, I realize Kent Johns is standing next to Phillip, and he’s smiling at Laine. My Laine . What the hell is he doing here?
I’m ready to race downstairs and yank her away, but I take a deep breath instead. I’m not a caveman, and she certainly wouldn’t respond well to that anyway.
As I continue watching, Griffin appears from somewhere with a woman on each arm. He’s looking for trouble tonight. He stops at Trish, Phillip, Laine, and Kent. I’m considering whether I should go down and join them when he points up toward the VIP area and leads the group this way. Through the glass I can see that Kent has his eyes on Laine’s ass as they make their way up the stairs. That is not going to happen. No way.
When they enter the VIP area, Trish steps in and gives me a hug as the rest of them find seats. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”
“Why not? We have to celebrate the end of an era, right?” She clinks her glass with mine. “I didn’t expect to see Laine,” I add. “She told me she was going to rest for her interview tomorrow.”
“Don’t be mad at her. I roped her into coming out. I had to. She’s a giant ball of stress.”
“Why?”
“You know she doesn’t have any other writing jobs lined up, and Steaming Mugs wants her for all this overtime, which doesn’t leave her mentally ready to write.”
I roll my eyes. “I hate that she’s working there. Why can’t she ask for help?”
Trish sips her glass of sparkling wine. “You know her parents.”
Unfortunately, I do. I look over as Kent brings Laine a drink and sits down a little too close to her for my taste. What the hell?
“What is your deal with her?” Trish growls. Evidently my feelings are easy to read. “You threw her away last year, and now, you want her back because she’s stopped waiting for you?”
I open my mouth to tell her that’s not what happened, but I guess that’s certainly what it looks like. My timing is terrible, and it was my mistake that got me here in the first place. I have no one to blame but myself.
Kent whispers in Laine’s ear, and she smiles and stands. Just as they go back down to the dance floor, Griffin introduces me to his friends—Candy and Mandy. He’ll have his hands full, but the thought holds no appeal for me. Suddenly, the room is spinning. I can’t be here.
Excusing myself, I head downstairs and out the back door of the club to my car.
I’ve been a giant ass. I blamed Laine for picking her job over me, but when I look back on it now, that doesn’t even make sense. Not only is that not fair, but I wasn’t there for her when she lost a friend. I never even considered how she might be feeling and how that might have been a factor in the choices she made.
I understand why she doesn’t want to be involved with me now, and I can’t force her to take me back. But I also can’t watch her with another man.
I close the door behind me and sit in my car. I need quiet to think about Laine. Nothing stops her. I don’t think I’ve fully appreciated her resilience until now. I threw her out of my life. She lost her job. She could have gone to her parents or Trish for money, but instead, she finds a way on her own to make ends meet. Her pride isn’t wounded. She’s still focused on doing what she knows she’s good at while also doing what she needs to do. Things shouldn’t be this hard for her. She’s so kind and smart and giving. She’s made so many connections for Abdo. Someone should be writing an article about her…
I will win her back. I have to. There has to be a way for us to get back to where we were.
With that thought in mind, I start the car. As I pull around the corner, I see a woman walking away from the club. In the shadows, it’s hard to make out anything other than the fact that she’s wearing a black dress and has dark hair.
I hate these stupid orange street lights. They say they offer the same amount of illumination with less light pollution, but they don’t. They’re not safe. This is not a part of town where a woman should walk alone. She crosses the street and stumbles. Shit . She’s drunk too. This is not good.
I cross the intersection and pull over. I can at least offer to stay with her until a rideshare comes.
When I get out of the car, I realize she isn’t just some random woman. It’s Laine. “What are you doing out here?” I call.
If she’s surprised to see me, she doesn’t show it. She just sighs. “I didn’t want to come out tonight, but Trish insisted. And Kent was getting a little too friendly, so I snuck out.”
“Why didn’t you call a rideshare from the club? You know how seedy a neighborhood this is.”
“Oh, well, I was going to call one from up here.”
I shake my head. She’s lying right now. She would have walked home.
“Are you drunk?”
“No.” She throws her hands in the air. “I’m just not used to walking in three-inch heels.”
“I’ll drive you home.” I walk around to open the passenger-side door.
She looks at me and then down the dark street ahead.
“I’ll just drop you at your building. I won’t come up. You can’t walk barefoot on these streets. Jeez, Laine. There’s a methadone clinic not far from here. You could step on a needle! Get in the fucking car.”
Slowly, she relents and takes a seat in my car.
I pull back onto the road and head for her building. “This would have been a long walk.”
She sighs again. “I know, but maybe it would have cleared my head.”
“What has your head so foggy?”
“You mean other than you?”
“Me?”
She says nothing else.
I have to think it’s a good sign that she’s thinking about me, but I need to leave that alone. I came on too strong before. I change the subject. “Are you ready to meet with Frank tomorrow?”
She nods. “I think so. I spent the afternoon reading the WMC newsletters. I like what they do, but I’m nervous about having to produce that much content so often.”
“I’m sure they have a system in place,” I assure her. “And you can probably work quite a ways in advance. I remember when Mike Jenkins interviewed me, he sent me a list of questions. He’d done his research, but we never spoke in person. I responded in an email, and then the article showed up in the newsletter a few months later. So maybe there’s not so much legwork with all of them.”
Her face softens. “That makes sense.”
“Worldwide Medical Care would be lucky to have you. You’re an amazing journalist, and this would showcase what you do best, as well as help a worthy organization. And you don’t have to worry about them pulling articles off the wires to keep their doors open.”
She laughs. “I guess that’s true.”
I pull up to her apartment. I desperately want to come inside, but I’m not going to ask. I just pray silently that she’ll invite me up.
“Thanks for the ride,” she says, reaching for the door. “I’ll text you after the interview tomorrow.”
I nod, feeling a little panicky about letting her go. What is wrong with me? “Where are you meeting him tomorrow?”
“We’re going to the Botanist for brunch.”
“That’s a nice place. He’s trying to impress you.”
She scoffs. “I seriously doubt that.”
“He is. He wants to show you how important he is. I bet many people will stop by the table to talk to him.”
“I guess I’ll be impressed then.”
“Good luck. I know you’ll do great.”
“Thanks. My fingers are crossed.”
She opens the door and pivots to get out of the low-slung car.
As she walks to her front door, I roll the window down. “Don’t forget to text me afterward.”
She turns and smiles. “I promise.”
I watch her pull the dress down twice and chuckle to myself. She’s never had any idea of how beautiful she is. The moment she disappears into her building, I feel a sense of loss, the kind that starts in the pit of your stomach and spreads like wildfire. I feel like I’ve been dead or sleeping for months, and somehow, I’m finally waking up. What have I been doing? I can’t imagine my life without her.