Chapter Nine
Zoe
I stare at the screen on my phone, urging my fingers to do my bidding.
But as his number fills the phone screen, I hit the backspace and delete it. I can't call him. I shouldn't call him. I mean, sure, he wanted me to call, and I want to, but to what end? I'm smart enough to know that a relationship started on vacation when we are completely different people isn't destined to last. Vacation day drinking Zoe is gone, replaced by boring, work and movie streaming Zoe. What could he possibly see in me?
Plus, I'm damaged and what decent, self-respecting person would want to be tied up with someone with so much emotional baggage?
But even as those conflicting thoughts collide in my head, I can't stop thinking about the way he'd kissed me and said goodbye that last day on the cruise. I can't forget his promise or the way he'd asked me to call him. I'm being stupid by not calling him, right?
All the self-doubt rising up in me makes my fingers hesitate as I punch in his number again.
Instead of hitting the call button, I add him to my contacts. I normally buy myself time. I haven't called him. I need to make a decision because letting him hang like this isn't fair or nice. No matter what, I need to call him, call him and tell him I'm not interested, or call and tell him I am, but I can't just pretend he doesn't exist and that nothing happened.
But what if he's busy and I'm interrupting him? Panic bubbles up within me. What if he's forgotten about me? My fingers tremble as I hover over his contact information. What if he's on a date with a beautiful blonde bombshell right now and I'm going to be interrupting a perfect date with the woman he loves?
I exhale a deep breath, trying to remind myself that I'm being silly. It’s been three days. I highly doubt he's already met and fallen in love with someone else... unless there was someone else before we met and I was the other one.
I let out a groan and set my phone down on the couch beside me, pulling my legs to my chest and resting my forehead on my knees. Why do I do this to myself?
“I can do this.” With that, I drop my feet back down to the floor, pick up my phone, and call his number. Setting it to speaker phone, I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm my pounding heart.
I haven't been able to stop thinking about him; his bright blue eyes, his charming smile, his deep voice. The way he'd held me and made me feel appreciated and important. I can't stop thinking about the perfect date he'd taken me on, or the way he'd whispered my name in my ear, or the way his lips felt against mine. I've even been dreaming about him. It's so intense and so overwhelming it makes me feel crazy. The first ring seems to last forever, and there's no answer. I resist the temptation to hit the red button to end the call. How much is it going to hurt if he doesn't answer, but what happens if he does?
Halfway through the second ring, he answers. “Hello?”
His voice sounds so... different. Cold, controlled, with no hint of the warmth or humor that I remember. Icy cold pinpricks race along my skin and I exhale. This person sounds like a complete stranger, not the person that I met on the cruise, but I remind myself, that, much like boring Zoe is back, the real Damien might be too. Maybe vacation Damien is the warm, kind, humor-infused soul while non-vacation Damien is cutthroat and cold. Which would make sense given his father was murdered there - how relaxed, warm, and happy could he really be?
“Hello?” he says again, sounding distant and distracted.
“Hi, Damien?” The words sound like a question because I'm not one hundred percent certain that I'm talking to the right person.
He pauses on the other end of the line. Then he says, “Zoe?” He also sounds unsure that he is actually talking to me, which lends some weight and validity to the fact that we both sound like different people now that we're not on vacation.
It's also the validation I need that he remembers me.
“Yes! It’s me,” I say, feeling a flicker of hope for us and what could be. Maybe calling was the right decision, and I can stop beating myself up now.
“I was starting to think you wouldn't call.” I can hear the absolute lack of faith in his voice, and it hurts my feelings a little bit.
“Well, here I am calling.” I can hear the nervousness in my voice as I say the words, and I suddenly realize exactly what I need to say to lighten the moment. “I do need to ask you a favor, though.”
“What kind of favor?” He sounds intrigued and I can't stop smiling as I run my hand up and down my thigh and hold the phone closer to my face, wishing I could see him.
“I need to hire a hitman.” I can only hope he'll catch on and remember the joke that we'd made that first day we talked. Otherwise, I'm going to look like a crazy lady and this conversation might be over. I'm not sure why that joke sticks out in my head so much. Maybe because it was just such a crazy thing to say, or just because of how funny it was to think about him and his very nice, very expensive suit killing people for a living. Whatever the reason, it’s stuck out in my brain, and it's now probably one of my favorite jokes that anyone's ever told me at the beginning of a relationship.
He chuckles and his whole voice changes, like the warm sun breaking through clouds and heating up a chilly winter day. “Who do you need dead?” he asks, in a low, husky voice as he plays along.
My heart does a happy little dance in my chest at his words and his return to the man I’d met on the cruise. It’s a relief, really, to hear him sound happy and relaxed.
“Would I sound like a psycho girlfriend if I said ‘anyone who tries to come between us?’” I ask, half joking, half serious, and well aware that I'm not his girlfriend. “I mean, I know I'm not your girlfriend-”
He cuts me off with a laugh. “You got it.”
I can't get over how happy he sounds to hear from me. I feel like leaping to my feet and dancing through the house.
“How have you been?” he asks, but the question doesn't sound like the typical run-of-the-mill how are you small talk that most people ask without really caring about the answer. He genuinely sounds like he wants to know how I’ve been, and that sends a flood of warmth rushing through my body.
Of course, I'm not really sure how to answer. I could tell him that I've been doing good, but it'd be a lie. I've been missing him and feeling kind of miserable. Still, that response seems like too much too soon, and I'm not sure what to say. “I can't really complain. How have you been?” Talk about a safe answer.
“Well, that's a loaded question,” he says. “I've been busy trying to make sure everything to do with the company is under control.”
I nod my head. I can only imagine how much work he has to do on a daily basis. “Still working on solving that case we talked about?” I ask, curious. I worry that it might be a sore topic, but I also want him to know that I'm in his corner, willing to help if he needs a fresh set of eyes. Nobody should have to go through what he's facing, and they certainly shouldn't have to do it alone.
“Still working on it, but not feeling like I'm any closer.” I swear I can hear the defeat in his voice, and it breaks my heart. I can't even imagine how I'd feel losing a parent to a situation like that and not having any answers and being gaslit and blown off when I try to tell people the truth. How horrifying must it be to tell the police that a crime took place only to be told no, it didn't ? I'd be losing my damn mind if I were him.
“I'm still here if you need somebody to bounce ideas off of or want some fresh eyes on things.” I want him to know that there is someone in his corner, at least.
“I appreciate that more than I can say.” I hear the relief in his voice and know that he has been hard pressed to find anyone that believes him and is willing to help. There's a brief silence between us. Then he speaks up again.
“Zoe...” I feel his hesitation with my whole body.
“Yes?” I ask, holding my breath and wondering what he’s about to ask. I shift my weight on the couch as if I'll be able to get comfortable.
“Can I ask you something?” Though he sounds confident, there's a slight, unsure undercurrent in his voice, as if he’s not sure about what he’s about to say.
“Well, you just did,” I tease.
He chuckles.
“But sure.” I hold my breath, feeling my heart pound as I wait for whatever question he's about to ask me.
“Would you like to have dinner with me?” The second he says those words, my heart feels like it's bursting in my chest and I jump to my feet, dancing back and forth quietly, celebrating like a fool. He wants to see me again! And I want to see him!
“Yes!” The word bursts out of me maybe sounding a little too excited, but he doesn't comment on my tone or obvious elation.
“Great,” he says. “How about tomorrow night?”
I'm still dancing around the room, absolutely stunned, thrilled, and excited that he wants to see me again. Maybe I wasn't wrong. Maybe there really is something real between us, some spark that we should explore. Now, if only I could explain that to the little voice inside me that's whispering that he's too good for me. I'm not going to listen to that voice. Not now, hopefully not ever.
“Perfect!” I say.
“I will text you the address. Someone will meet you at the front door and bring you up.” As he says the words, my phone chimes, warning me a text has come through, no doubt the address he’s talking about.
“I will be there.” This is the best outcome I could have possibly hoped for when I made this phone call.
“It’s good to talk to you again,” he says.
“Likewise. And I'm sorry it took me so long to call.” I feel bad.
“Don't be sorry. You called, that's what matters.” His warm, throaty words lift my spirits, and I can't hold back a smile as I plop back down on the couch, happy, stunned, excited, and a little worn out from my impromptu cardio.
“I'll talk to you soon,” I say.
“I can’t wait.” With that, we disconnect the phone call and I drop my head back, staring up at the ceiling with a silly smile on my face.
I'm going on a date with him. Our whirlwind vacation romance might actually turn into something real.
I do another little dance without getting off the couch, which pretty much consists of me stretching my arms and legs out stiff and waving them around like crazy.
There's a knock at my door, and I freeze before quickly standing up and making my way to the door with quick, quiet, cat-like steps. Is it Jake? What would I do if he was at my door? But even as terror pops like a bubble within me, I reassure myself that Jake is in jail, and he’s not getting out any time soon. I’m safe. He’s not the one at my door.
I mean, it might be Cindy at my door, but it's definitely not Jake.
With a deep breath in and out, I pull open the door to find Cass standing on my front step with lasagna, a bottle of wine, and both eyebrows raised. With a squeal of joy, I step forward and pull her into a hug.
“Ben and Amy will be here soon,” she says, waiting until I let her go to step across the threshold. She makes her way into the kitchen and opens up the oven, popping the lasagna in and turning on the heat before placing the wine on the counter. I open a cabinet and pull out wine glasses before adding other glass tumblers and an assortment of alcohol.
She pauses what she's doing and stares at me with a knowing smile. “You look happy.”
I nod my head, feeling excited and silly all at once. “I called him.”
Her face lights up and she pulls me into a hug. “I'm so proud of you. I was worried you weren't going to. We actually had bets running.”
I gasp in a deep, fake offended breath. “Which one of you bet that I wouldn't?”
The way her eyes slide away from me and scan the kitchen tells me that she's the one that thought I wouldn't call. “You are the world's worst friend,” I say, totally joking, and she laughs.
“Well, I mean, it has been three days, and he did seem like the perfect man for you. And we both know that you run from anything without red flags. I’m pretty sure your spirit animal is a bull, because if there's no red flag waving, you aren’t going.” I know that she's teasing me, but she's also right. I don't have a good track record of healthy relationships, which is something I'd like to change, but it's just not that easy. I absolutely have bad taste in men.
“Oof,” I say with a smile, and she squeezes me before letting go.
I pour myself a quick drink, and she grabs my wine opener from the drawer and opens the bottle of wine. I hand her a wine glass, and she fills it halfway, taking a sip while watching me.
“What did you guys talk about?”
“Just kind of reconnected and he asked me to go to dinner with him tomorrow.” I can't help but think how cold and distant he'd sounded at first. He'd warmed up pretty quickly, but it still makes me a little bit nervous. Like I said, I know I’m not the same person that I was on vacation. I'm a lot less relaxed and chill, and I don't generally day drink - I think as I take a sip of my rum and coke - and it makes sense he’s a different person now too. No doubt he's back to the cold, ruthless, calculating CEO. He has to be running the company, or someone very likely killed his father trying to keep everything afloat while rooting out a killer. I can't even imagine how much pressure he must be under, and I can understand why he'd sound like a different person.
But are those differences enough to drive a wedge between us? Can they be overcome? Are we still a good match like we seemed to be on the cruise?
As those thoughts circle like sharks in my mind, I see Cass smile at me. “He asked you to dinner. Like on a date. That's so exciting.”
I roll my eyes and take a sip of my drink. “Well, I'm pretty sure that it's not a business dinner, so yes, it's a date.” For some reason, as I say the words, I begin to doubt myself and I try to shut out that stupid little voice in my head.
“Have you heard anything about Jake? Has Cindy come by again?” she asks.
She, Ben, and Amy had all been so upset to hear that Cindy came by and harassed me right after I got home from the cruise.
I shake my head. I haven't heard anything from Jake, and Cindy has not called or come by again. It’s actually a relief, because I'm ready to put them out of my mind and not give them any of my energy anymore.
Jake isn't my problem. If Cindy wants him, she can have him. I hope that he doesn't break her heart the way he broke mine, but that's her decision to make.
“Hello!” I hear Amy call out, and Cass and I both make our way to her and Ben, giving out smiles and hugs as we all talk about movie night here at my place. Ben holds up his phone, indicating it’s his night to choose the movie, and he’ll be airplaying it from his phone. Which is fine with me - he has good taste in movies.
“Who's making the popcorn?” Amy asks.
“She called him!” Cass says, and everyone goes quiet and stares at me.
I smile, my cheeks stinging as I nod my head. “I did. We’re going out tomorrow.” My girlfriends bounce up and down, and Ben takes my hand, squeezing gently as he speaks.
“I’m so happy for you guys!”
Surrounded by the warmth and support of my friends, I grin wider, excited about my date, having my friends’ blessings, and movie night.
I finally feel like everything's going to be okay.
Even if Damien isn't the guy for me, this is a fresh start with someone who might not break my heart.
As my friends talk amongst one another, the lasagna heats up in the oven, and Amy gets popcorn together while Ben pours drinks; I feel surrounded by love and warmth... and I wish Damien was here to enjoy this time with us.