Chapter 23 Helena #2
“He didn’t, though,” I replied. But all the same, I felt the full horror of the evening’s events.
“I just wanted to know if there was anything she had said or done… anything I didn’t know about before.
” A part of me wanted to tell him more, but I couldn’t let on that I was investigating the case, or that I now knew it was Carter Fields who had sent Pratt to the suite.
I’d almost forgotten that I had actually achieved what I’d set out to do—and not only that, I knew Carter from the time before Valerie died.
They’d known each other well, the pair of them, had partied in the same circles, and for a while there had even been more between them, but my sister had put a stop to all that a while back.
In any case, Carter Fields and drugs was not a surprising development.
But I would park that information for the moment.
I didn’t want to think about Pratt anymore.
“Don’t worry, though, I’m over it, if that makes you feel any better. ”
“Only slightly,” Jessiah mumbled. “Promise me you’ll never pull that type of shit again.”
I looked at him. Suddenly I was struck by fear, and not just for myself. “Do you think those people you were talking about can really see to it that he never comes back?” Pratt’s I’ll kill you was still very present in my mind.
“For sure.” Jessiah nodded. “The contact I called is one-hundred-percent trustworthy, and he’s very good at persuading nasty guys to leave town.”
“Doing the Lord’s work there,” I murmured grimly. “One less dealer to spread their nasty wares around the place.”
Jessiah was silent for a moment. Then he took a deep breath.
“Yeah. You’re right about that.” There was a sadness in those green eyes, whose gaze kept pulling me into their orbit.
But after a while he broke out in a smile, and I knew he was about to change the subject.
“You haven’t told me how you’re planning to avoid your parents’ attempts to set you up. ”
I grinned, happy to move away from serious subjects.
“No clue. I thought about pulling a real Jessiah Coldwell and hooking up with some random regular dude while my parents have some fancy guests around, but that would only get their backs up. I’ll probably have to bring someone they approve of, to get them off my case—but then I might as well just go for one of the guys they picked out. You see? It’s a vicious circle.”
“What would happen if you took someone they considered totally unsuitable?” Jessiah asked, his eyes twinkling again. I didn’t know if he was talking about himself, but right away the visions were back, along with that heat coursing through my body again.
“They’d kick me out, probably.”
He looked amazed. “You still live at home?”
“Not by choice,” I sighed. “It’s part of the deal if I want to be in New York again. I have to live with my parents and abide by all their rules.”
Jess grinned. “And you still came back? You must really love this city.”
I laughed. “Yeah, I do. I know you don’t understand—you want to get out of here again as soon as possible.” I considered him thoughtfully. “Is there really nothing you could be persuaded to stay for? Nothing that could reconcile you to New York City?”
He fixed me with a stare so long and intense that I almost had to look away. Almost. I held his gaze firm and waited.
“No,” he said then, although he did so with a smile. “Absolutely nothing.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Now it was his turn to laugh. “Do you ever accept an answer that you don’t like?”
“Not in this case,” I replied with a grin. “When you’re the owner of a restaurant where the pizza is this good, surely you have everything you need.” At the word restaurant, something changed in Jessiah’s expression. I didn’t know if I was imagining things, but I thought I saw longing in his eyes.
“What are you thinking about right now?”
“Nothing at all.”
“Tell me,” I pressed.
He bristled. “Ahh, I’m thinking about an idea Balthazar put in my head. There’s a place in the East Village that might be coming up for sale soon, and it’d be perfect for this concept I’ve been thinking about for years.”
“What kind of concept?”
“A breakfast restaurant. Not in the sense of scrambled eggs on toast all day, but dishes that work as lunches and dinners as well.” He gave me a sheepish look, as if expecting me to find the whole thing absurd. But the opposite was true.
“That’s a really great idea,” I said excitedly. “If anywhere is ready for new gastro concepts, it’s New York City. You should definitely do it.”
He sighed and shook his head. “No, I can’t. I already abandoned one business when I left Australia, and it broke my heart. I don’t want to do that again.” His voice sounded so sad that I sensed there was more to the story than just the restaurant.
“Does that mean you’re never going to open your heart to anything new again?” I asked softly, well aware of the double meaning. “I think that would be a mistake.”
“You think so?” Jessiah looked up. Without my being able to stop it, or wanting to, we caught each other’s eye.
“Yes.” I nodded emphatically, holding his gaze.
“And what makes you so sure about that, Fair Helen?” he asked, and I felt a thrill—he really did have a nickname for me.
I smiled. “No idea. Just a hunch.”
It grew later and later. We talked about everything under the sun, laughing and teasing each other whenever the opportunity arose.
Midnight came and went, then one o’clock, and at some point Taddeo said good night and asked Jessiah to close up after him when we left.
And still we stayed there, even after Taddeo and his wife had gone home.
We talked about Cambridge, the peculiarities of the British, my college courses, his projects, and eventually got around to Jessiah’s stint in Australia.
“A surf lodge?” I asked, after he’d revealed that he’d bought a small bungalow hotel and renovated it together with a friend. “So you surf as well?”
He nodded. “As often as I can. But Rockaway Beach isn’t the Australian coast, unfortunately.
Sometimes, there, I would get up at five in the morning just to get out on my board before anyone else.
Surfing at sunrise might sound corny, but it’s fucking incredible.
And then just sitting on the sand with a coffee and looking out at the ocean… it’s the most peaceful I’ve ever been.”
“It sounds like a dream,” I said.
“Yes. But the price was pretty high.”
The price? Was he talking about his brother’s death?
“What happened to Adam had nothing to do with you, you know,” I remarked softly, although I wasn’t sure if that was what he’d meant. But I knew all too well what it was to blame yourself.
“How can you be sure about that?” Jessiah gave a sad smile. “Don’t tell me you never ask yourself if you could have prevented it. Whether they’d still be alive if you’d done something differently.”
I felt a lump form in my throat and pressed my lips together as my eyes welled with tears. “Every day,” I said softly.
“So then you know there’s no absolution. There never will be.”
I knew. Even though I’d only been in bed with a cold, as opposed to thousands of miles away. I’d asked myself so many times whether I’d have been able to prevent Valerie’s death if I had beenat her party. But that question would never be answered.
I said what was on my mind. “Maybe we can be happy without absolution, though.”
“Yeah, maybe,” replied Jessiah in a low voice.