Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
CLAIRE
A dozen cabs sat waiting out front, so they were en route in record time.
Conversation had yet to stall, like the night in the piano bar all over again.
Claire could tell by the enormous smile on his face that he was really enjoying himself.
Her heart thumped with anticipation. First gelato… and then what?
"That was some party,” Jay said for the second time.
"It was pretty fantastic. I think Hamish really enjoyed himself," Claire agreed.
“From what I saw tonight, your uncle specializes in enjoying himself— and always with beautiful women around him."
"He does have a reputation for wooing the ladies. Evidently, he has a certain air that women love,” Claire said.
"An air… or a bank account?" Jay questioned.
Claire laughed. "A little of both. You mentioned earlier that you move in similar circles—with my uncle, I mean. Are you in finance too?”
“Alright, you caught me. To be honest, I’ve never even met your uncle. I was there as a guest of a business associate—as her plus one.”
Claire’s eyes widened. “Are you kidding me? You ditched your date?”
“Let me be one hundred percent clear here—it was not a date. It was business. I had no idea when I flew in this week that I’d be meeting with her.
It just sort of fell into place at the last minute—tuxedo rental and all.
Tonight was the only time we could sync our calendars, so we met up at the party. ”
“You let her know we were leaving, right?”
“After the way we dominated the dance floor? I’m sure she figured it out.”
Claire searched his eyes. “Jay, tell me you’re kidding. You left that poor woman alone—”
“Relax. She left the party well before I stalked—I mean, before I met back up with you,” he teased.
His eyes shone with something—Claire couldn’t put her finger on it.
It had been months since their meeting in Negril and not only had he remembered her, but he’d also recognized her immediately.
She’d certainly thought about Negril too, some of them filled with regret.
Bolting from the outdoor patio when Jay went to take that phone call at the top of her list.
Their cab stopped in front of the hip dessert bar. He offered his arm and led her inside.
“Looks like word is out.” Jay sighed and surveyed the space, jam-packed with late night revelers.
“We could go somewhere else,” Claire suggested.
“It’s the best gelato in town. Totally worth it if you don’t mind waiting.”
They continued to make small talk until a table opened up.
Jay moved quickly to secure it while Claire retreated to the ladies’ room.
She’d borrowed Molly’s prized makeup setting spray and to her delight, her face still looked fresh.
Wow! This stuff really is all-night-clubbing proof—even for a forty-year-old like me.
She re-applied her lipstick then smiled at herself.
I have a feeling this night is gonna be full of smiles.
Jay stood when she arrived back at their table.
They conferred for a minute then he queued up to place their order.
Claire stayed at the table, her eyes locked on him.
While she couldn’t see his face, she could see the faces of two young women behind the counter.
Both were smiling and laughing with him.
It made her heart swell with pride. She hadn’t imagined it back in Negril. Jay is a genuinely nice guy.
“Is everything okay?” he asked, placing a heaping cup of pistachio in front of her. “You’ve got a strange look on your face.”
“May I be completely honest?” she asked.
He slid into the booth. “Of course.”
“I’m a little embarrassed to admit that I have no idea what makes gelato different from regular ice cream.”
“It’s all about the air,” he said confidently.
“Gelato is churned at a much slower rate than ice cream. That means it incorporates less air, which makes it a lot denser than ice cream. It’s served at a slightly warmer temperature.
That gives it a softer, silkier texture.
Gelato also has a lower fat content, which means the main flavor notes are more intense. ”
Claire grinned, seeing the passion in his eyes as he spoke.
“Wow. You really know your frozen desserts.”
“Oh God, I’m so sorry.” Jay blushed. “Occupational hazard.”
“Jay isn’t really your name, is it? You’re Ben, aren’t you?” she teased. “Or maybe you’re Jerry.”
“Actually, I’m just a nerd with a PhD in Biochemistry.”
“Doctor Jay?” She whistled. “And you specialize in gelato?”
He laughed. “Only as a consumer. I’m a chemist. Well, I was a chemist. I spent several years working as a senior scientist for a pharmaceutical company.”
“You’re not a chemist anymore?”
“Well, yes and no. I work in cosmetics now.”
“You? Work in makeup?” She half-laughed.
“I do.”
“What exactly do you do in cosmetics?” she asked.
“A little bit of everything. I founded Silver Screen Cosmetics.”
Claire’s eyes went round. “Hold up. You own Silver Screen?”
“I do. Have you heard of it?” he asked.
“Heard of it?” Her smile widened. “I’m wearing your lipstick right now.”
Jay nodded. “You know, I thought that shade looked familiar. I’ve been trying to decide which color ever since you came back from the ladies’ room. I’ve narrowed it down to Casablanca or Sunset Boulevard.”
“Double Indemnity,” she corrected.
“Damn it!” A sly grin turned up the corners of his mouth. “I thought for sure I had it. And that’s the top seller from our Film Noir collection.”
“Do you really own Silver Screen?” she asked, one eyebrow cocked in suspicion.
“I really do.”
“This is incredible. Do you know why my makeup still looks fresh?”
“I’m guessing it’s my In the Heat of the Night setting spray.”
“Molly swears by it. She’s been a fan for years.”
“Then I should probably send her a case,” he said with a smile.
“Are you kidding? She would die.”
“Just imagine all the free swag you’d have right now if you hadn’t left me high and dry back in Negril.” He shot her a knowing look.
“And here we go…” Claire shook her head.
"You disappeared without a trace. One minute we're ordering coffee and the next minute you’re gone. Was it something I said? Something I didn’t say?”
“I think you know why I left.”
“Because my better half called down to the bar?" Jay made air quotes around the word. “My better half was actually my best friend, Rob. The bartender thought we were a couple.”
"Your best friend?"
"Yeah, he’d planned the trip with his wife Abby for their anniversary. Only Abby got pregnant. By the time the trip rolled around, she was in the throes of all-day morning sickness. Instead of canceling the trip, Abby sent Rob and me—sort of a guy’s trip.”
“Wow. Generous.”
“It was sort of an intervention. I’d lost my wife in December and had kind of dropped out of the human race. They thought that by getting me on a beach I could hit the restart button.”
Claire tensed at the mention of his deceased wife.
“I am truly sorry for your loss, Jay. And extremely sorry for my insensitive comment earlier. I had no idea—”
“Please,” He stopped her. “You don’t have to apologize again. How could you have possibly known?”
“Well, after you hobbled off to answer the call from your wife, I was convinced you were a Steel Stud. That’s why I bolted.”
“What’s a Steel Stud?”
“Danielle Steel? The novelist? You’ve heard of her, right?”
“Of course.”
“Molly and I read the covers off her books when we were girls. All the handsome problematic men in her novels—those were the ones we called Steel Studs.”
“And you labeled me as such after one hour of conversation? That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?”
“I’m sorry, but with a wife on the phone, what was I supposed to think?”
“A bad boy, huh?” He tried not to smile. “That’s probably the biggest compliment any woman’s ever given me. As a card-carrying member of both the American Chemical Society and the fraternal order of Alpha Chi Sigma, I think I speak for science geeks everywhere when I say thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She beamed.
Their conversation quieted as they enjoyed their desserts and watched the crowd around them.
“So, are we talking James Bond-level bad boy?” he asked with hopeful eyes.
“Well…” She hesitated.
“No, you’re right. Without that accent, I don’t stand a chance to rate Bond-level.”
At the mention of the famous British spy, Claire zoned out, her mind rushing across a series of painful, yet still fresh memories.
"We could be lovers. You go to London and find yourself some loving, supportive, nine-to-fiver. And when you grow tired of him and become incredibly bored—because you absolutely will—you'll still have me to fill in the gaps."
“Claire?” Jay’s tone conveyed concern.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I lost you there for a second. Are you alright?”
“Sorry. Having a bit of a brain freeze,” she fibbed, bringing her hand up to her forehead for effect.
“It’s probably because I’ve dominated the whole conversation, talking about myself and playing right into the typical male stereotype. How ‘bout we warm things up with some coffee? Then I want to hear the story of Just Claire—start to finish.”
“Let me go ahead and end the suspense. I am not a scientist. In fact, I failed biology. Twice.”
“I bet you were an English major,” he said.
“Costume Design. I got my MFA from CalArts.”
“Wait, you’re from California?”
“Not originally, no. I was actually born on an air force base in Italy. Why? Are you from California?” Claire asked.
“I was born and raised in Texas—Fort Worth—but I live in L.A. now.”
“You’re kidding? I’m from Dallas. Well, I mean I lived in Dallas for several years before moving here. I spent the majority of my childhood in Austin. That’s where I met Molly.”
“Are your parents still there?”