Love Online (Truly Yours Digital Editions) (7 page)

She broke eye contact with him and summoned her voice. “I–I think it’s best if I go straight home.” Alone in her nest, she could sift through her baffling emotions, uncover the basis for the tears pricking the backs of her eyes.
Not here. Not now.

Tom ran his hands over her shoulders to her bare upper arms. He pulled her to him, or she went willingly, and he gave her a little shake that merely said, “Old chum.”

Jess drew back, but her attempt at indifference left her a limp noodle in his grasp. In her mind’s eye, she saw a rogue chef break into her kitchen and spike a perfect recipe with a strange ingredient. Their friendship tasted of something unfamiliar, knocking her senses off-kilter.

Tom grinned. “Come on. Let’s talk about it.”

Jess’s mouth tugged upward in an involuntary smile. She stiffened, only to feel her silly grin growing, reaching her eyes. “I don’t know why I’m smiling.” Indeed she’d gone from foot-stomping mad to battling some nameless thing flowing between them—all in the space of a minute. Even her wacky sense of humor didn’t account for her wild responses to him this morning. She needed to get a grip—and fast.

“It’s a nice day.” Tom glanced skyward. “Maybe we should walk?”

Jess shrugged—suddenly Miss Wishy-Washy in the flesh—the type of woman Mrs. Gunther warned the high school seniors
not
to become when faced with temptation.

Tom continued gazing down at her, while her noisy thoughts rivaled the congested traffic on Second Avenue.

Jess pulled in a shaky breath. No temptation existed here. Mrs. Gunther tried to keep the girls from falling prey to the wrong types of men. “Predators,” she had called them. “Handsome. Charming.” She’d usually pause at this juncture. “If you’re swept off your feet, you just might find yourselves squarely on your bottoms.”

Biting back a grin, Jess met Tom’s gaze head on. He definitely possessed the qualities Mrs. Gunther had warned them about, but handsome and charming did not a predator make.

Tom smiled, tripping her pulse and sobering her. She cleared her throat. “I think it’s best if we skip coffee and talk right here.”

Tom pursed his lips, slipped his hands into his trouser pockets, and shrugged. “Okay, Jess—shoot.”

She cleared her throat. “It’s just that I never want anything to ruin our friendship, Tom—”

“Neither do I.” A line formed between his brows, then quickly disappeared.

“Okay, then—I have to let you know I’m angry with you about the Internet thing.” She crossed her arms over her midsection, waiting for logic to slow her racing pulse.

“I see.” Tom scrubbed his hand across his jaw. “I noticed a change in you after I mentioned—” He dipped his chin and assessed her with narrowed eyes. “Are you angry because I met a woman online?”

“What?” Jess spat the word. Her nails bit deeper into the flesh of her arms. “Is that what you think? That I’m jealous?”

“I don’t know.” Tom shrugged. “That’s how it looked to me.”

The wind kicked up. Jess shoved her hair back from her face. Glimpsing her wild-woman reflection in a store’s glass window, she tried to smile, without success. “I’m not upset that you met a woman.
Believe me
. It’s how
you met her.”

Tom glanced over his shoulder. “How was I supposed to meet her? What is acceptable in Jess’s dating rules for me?”

Jess cringed inwardly. She was speaking too loud. Closing her eyes, she waited for calm to kick in. Even in the face of cranky, unreasonable customers, she could always depend on her self-control. Yet here she was, a hissing steam kettle ready to blow. “The Internet is fine by me. Remember? But when
I
brought it up, you made me feel. . .”
Idiotic. Desperate.
She tilted her chin. “Why is it a valid option for you?”

Tom ran his gaze over her face slowly. “I see your point.”

Jess held her breath. He knew her better than any human rightfully should. Perhaps the question hidden in her heart crept into her eyes, screaming,
Why have you changed?

“It is a valid option, okay? I don’t know who you’ll meet online, and I made a promise to your father. I’m not throwing you into the lion’s den. Besides, since when are you desperate to meet someone?”

Jess planted a hand on her hip. “I’m free to do as I please, and what you promised my father is not my concern.” Tom stepped back, but she continued like a freight train out of control, her chest heaving. “What’s good for the goose is good for the gander, and I signed up for Love Online. So, while you’re seeing Internet Woman, I’ll be seeing Internet Man.” Jess pulled in a long breath. “And I hope he’s a Ben Affleck look-alike.”

“You know, you are stubborn to a fault.”

“Yeah? Well, have fun with Internet Woman.” Jess bit her quivering lip.
I hope she’s Quasimodo in a dress.

“Do you need a lift home?” Tom asked through clenched teeth.

Jess shook her head and swallowed around the lump of grief in her throat. “See you later.” She pivoted and walked forward quickly, forcing buoyancy into her steps.

A truck rumbled past, puffing out black clouds of smoke. If Tom called her name, she couldn’t hear above the clamor. But wishful thinking battled against what she knew without turning back.

Jess picked up her pace and knuckled the tear at the corner of her eye. Their perfect friendship had changed. Only for the worse.

❧

“What possessed you to do such a nutty thing? I left one detail up to you and—oh, man. I can’t go to Flavors with her.” Tom pushed back from his desk. He should’ve known he’d live to regret introducing Linda’s friend to Frank through E-mail. But Linda had been adamant about making their first meeting a double date.

Frank held up his hands in a motion of surrender. “Flavors is our favorite haunt, and Wednesday is Jessica’s day off—you said so yourself.” He smiled, not winning any points. “I thought we’d impress the girls with—”

“They’re
women
, Frank.” Tom cupped his hand to the bunched muscles in his neck. “The last thing I want is to run into Jess when I’m with Linda.” He shoved back his shirt cuff and glanced at his watch. “I’ll send Linda an E-mail. Let her know there’s been a change of plans.”

“At this late date?” Frank got to his feet. “She’ll never see it.”

Tom continued glaring at the culprit, his mind racing. “Unless you have a phone number for Linda’s friend.”

“Brittany?” Frank shook his head. “Nope.”

Tom nodded his defeat. “I thought I told you to make dinner plans at Harry’s.” He stood, gazing out the window blankly at the ominous black sky between buildings. “Be aware—I’m going to pummel you if Jess is working tonight. If she doesn’t pummel me first, that is.”

“What’s up with that anyway?”

Tom twisted toward Frank’s annoyed voice. “I don’t want to add insult to injury.” Jess had every right to be angry. He had practically mocked her when she wanted to join Love Online. And now this.

“What?” Frank shrugged. “You’re acting like you’re married to Jess or something.”

Tom dropped to the edge of his desk and sighed. “It’ll make for an uncomfortable situation, that’s all.”

Folding his arms, Frank quirked his brow. “Another mystery solved.”

“Forget it.” Tom went around the desk and lifted his suit jacket from the back of the chair. “They’re meeting us in front of Flavors, right?” He walked to the door with Frank on his heels, flicked off the lights, and locked up. As they strode through the red-carpeted foyer, resentment burned in him.

“Yeah, why?” Frank finally said, his voice bouncing off the walls in the large, marble-floored reception area. He punched the elevator button, and the doors opened immediately. “Forget to slip off your wedding band?”

Touché
. They stepped into the mirrored elevator, and the doors closed with a soft
bing
. As they descended to the lobby, Tom watched a grinning Frank drag his hand through his dark hair, appearing pleased with his ill-conceived plan.

“I guess this is your way of helping me get over Jess?” Tom ground out the words before exiting the elevator.

“That is rich.” Frank snorted a laugh and gave him a jab in the arm. “You requested the honor of my presence at this gig.”

Tom hesitated, clamped his jaw, and pushed open the glass door. No sense arguing with a guy who just didn’t get it. They strode to the curb, waiting in the light drizzle for a taxi. “Even
you
know this is in bad taste.”

“Ouch.” Holding his hand over his heart, Frank feigned hurt feelings. “Lighten up, will you?” He waved and whistled, bringing a cab to a screeching halt at the corner. “The only way to get through this is to face it head on. Be a man.”

They hopped in, and Tom gave the young, bearded cabbie Flavors’s upper eastside address. He settled back, expelled a breath, and unbuttoned his suit jacket. He scrubbed his fingers through his damp hair, eyeing Frank. “What if Jess is working tonight?”

“So what if she is?” Frank shook his head. “I’ll tell her I was the one who made the plans. Happy?”

Tom turned to the window and fixed his gaze on the wet pavement. He hummed to the music traveling from the radio through the plastic divider, but uninvited thoughts nudged their way to the fore.

When he’d decided to start his new life, he never intended to hurt Jess. He liked order. No diverging paths. Perhaps Jess was right about his mathematical mind, but he had tried to prepare for every eventuality. No surprise twists and turns—like Jess’s speech after the service on Sunday. Prepared? With her dark hair wild, her blue eyes flashing, he’d been a half step from pulling her into his arms and pressing his lips to hers.

The cab swerved and skidded to a stop, jolting him out of his daydream. He’d like nothing more than to pick up some Chinese take-out, go back to his apartment, and maybe phone Jess. They’d watch a movie together via phone, chat between commercials—

And he’d be right back where he started. Tom sighed and gave Frank a sidelong glance. “I’ll take you up on that. If Jess is working tonight, you tell her you made the reservations.” It was time to move on. He had reconciled to the fact that this was ordained.

Frank grunted in the affirmative as the cab turned the corner.

Tom looked past the cloudy divider at Flavors’s green awning, flapping a greeting against the wind. Two women stood beneath it, chatting.

“That has to be them.” Frank rubbed his hands together like a happy camper.

“Yeah, must be.” Tom glanced at the meter, counted out bills for the fare plus a tip, and stashed the money in the metal tray. “We’ll get out here,” he told the driver.

“Good idea.” Frank pulled out some cash. “In this traffic it could take ten minutes to get to the middle of the block.”

Tom pushed his hand away. “I’ve got it.” Judging by Frank’s demeanor, he was in repenting-for-his-blunder mode. As much as he wanted to cut him some slack, he couldn’t help suspecting his friend’s motives. “What do you have against Jess?”

“Nothing.” Frank laughed. “Except the fact that she makes you pathetic, and I’m sick of watching it.” He craned his neck and wiggled his brows. “Hey! From here the ladies are looking mighty fine.”

“Right.” As they drew closer, Tom’s heart flipped at the sight of the willowy brunette. If the fragile blond hadn’t been standing beside her, he’d declare the woman was Jess waiting for him to give her a lift.
Jess
. He had to push her out of his thoughts right now.

The women stopped speaking and looked up simultaneously before Tom approached the brunette. “Are you—”

“Linda,” she said. Her bluish-green gaze held his, and she returned his smile.

Tom shook her proffered hand, while Frank made small talk with the blond. “And this is Brittany.” Linda gestured to her friend.

After they’d met each other, Tom held open the door, then followed the threesome. What kind of twisted logic had compelled Frank to choose Flavors as their meeting place? With a Jessica clone, no less. He mounted the steps to the hostess station, where the owner’s daughter Brea nodded a greeting.

“Table for four,” Frank said.

Tom bit back the question burning on the tip of his tongue.
Is Jessica in tonight?
He scanned the tables as far back into the restaurant as he could see. His gaze stopped at the corner booth. The dark head of long hair grabbed his attention first. The man sitting across from her—

“Tom?” Frank’s voice broke into his jumbled thoughts.

Forcing his attention away from the man—from Jess—Tom’s gaze traveled from Frank, to the hostess, then to Linda, who seemed to be restraining a smile. “What?”

“Our table is ready.” Frank indicated with a stern look.

Tom nodded. Following behind the group, he fixed his gaze on the booth—and Jess, chatting with a distinguished-looking character.

Tom pulled out a chair for Linda, then chose a ringside seat for himself—directly opposite Jess’s table.

Seven

Jess’s gaze strayed from Jim Hunt’s face to her forkful of salad. Her stomach grumbled as her date continued his rags-to-riches saga. Scarlett O’Hara’s story didn’t drag on this long.

“I opened my third location in 2001.” Jim paused. Not long enough for her to answer, but just enough to make sure she heard every angst-filled memory.

Jess took the cue, nodded interest, and plunked down her fork. If only she could enjoy the getting-to-know-you phase, but she and Jim didn’t click. The sad realization hit the minute Jim strode through Flavors’s dining room, pumped her hand brusquely, and dropped into the booth with an air of let’s-get-down-to-business. Jim was obviously used to getting what he wanted. Jess prayed
she
wasn’t it.

Judging by the glances shooting her way, the employees silently concurred. This was not a match made in heaven. But she was on Flavors’s safe turf, and the staff knew not to let on that she worked there. If Tom’s Internet warnings proved valid, there’d be evidence—witnesses.

Jess bit back a grin. At five-feet-seven, she towered over Jim. Her poor choice to wear heels didn’t help the matter, and her self-consciousness over her height troubled her far more than the fear of being accosted.