Trusting Jack (19 page)

“I do care about you, Emma, I l—“

“I thought you did,” she interrupted.  “I let you dazzle me, let myself believe this could actually go somewhere.  Let myself believe in the fairy tale again.  I’m an idiot.  This is strike two.”

“For God’s sake!” Frustration and anger took over.  “Why the hell won’t you just listen for a minute? I’m trying to tell you—“

“Trying to spin another lie?  Fuck that, Jack.  And fuck you.  I’m not going to be sucked in again.  I’m so mad at myself right now for letting myself be played again.”  She laughed bitterly.  “I’m totally stupid when it comes to men.”

“This is part of the problem!”  Jack scrubbed his hands over his face and tried to rein in his temper.  “You’re still so damn hurt and bitter over Ryan that it’s clouding your judgment here and now.  I’m not him, Emma.”

“’Course not,” she replied, sarcasm dripping

from every word.  “At least he told me straight up when he was done.  He didn’t send Renee to tell me for him.”

“Damn it, I didn’t sleep with her and I didn’t send her over to you!  I lied, yes, when I should’ve told you the truth.  But I’m telling you the truth now.  I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”  He reached out to her and she slapped his hand away. 

“Don’t touch me.  If I had the energy I’d give you a round of applause for that performance.”  She shoved past him and opened the door.  She tossed the nightie at him and it hit his chest as it slid to the floor.  “Keep it.  Maybe she’ll wear it again for you sometime.”

“Emma.”

“Goodbye, Jack.”  She walked out and got into the cab she’d kept waiting.

Jack watched her leave with a sinking feeling in his stomach and an ache in his chest.  He couldn’t believe he’d been fool enough to fuck it up like that.

Chapter 24

Emma managed to hold herself together by her fingernails until she got home.  She stumbled through the door just as Norah was coming downstairs.

She took one look at Emma and rushed forward.  “What is it, what’s wrong?  Has there been an accident?”

Emma sh
ook her head and began to cry.

Norah took her cold hand and led her to the couch.  “What’s wrong, honey?” she asked gently.  “Did you and Jack have a fight?”

Emma gave a shaky nod and the story slowly came out, in between shuddering sobs.  Norah listened quietly, first with disbelief and then with mounting anger.  She gathered Emma close and rocked her.

“I’m so sorry, Emma.  I’m so sorry you’re hurting.”

She sniffled.  “I guess I should be used to it by now.  How could I be stupid enough to fall for it again?”  She knuckled a tear away.

Norah stood.  “I’m going to make you some breakfast.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You have to eat, honey.  At least a piece of toast and some tea?”
Laced with half an Ambien
, she silently added.  She could see how close Emma was to breaking.

Emma nodded and leaned back.  The scene with Jack kept runnin
g through her mind.  She was a fool, she thought, to have fallen for him.  She’d fallen for Ryan and learned the hard way what a player he was.  And Jack.  Jack was an actor, used to playing roles.

He’d played her.

She opened her red, swollen eyes when Norah came back in.  She obediently ate and drank under Norah’s watchful gaze.  When she was finished, she lay down.  Norah tucked a blanket around her and smoothed her hair away from her face.

“Try to sleep.  Try to forget for a while.”  She picked up the tray and headed for the kitchen.

Emma watched her leave and sighed.  A lone tear made its way down her cheek.  She was exhausted, emotionally drained.  She closed her eyes and finally, mercifully, slept.

***

Two hours later, as Norah was checking on a still-sleeping Emma, she saw Jack’s car pull up through the window.  She hurried outside before he made it to the door.

“You can’t come in.”

“Please, Norah, I need to see her.”

“No.  She’s sleeping.  And you’ve hurt her enough for one day.”  Norah was seething with anger.  It showed in her snapping blue eyes and ridged posture.  Her hands were clenched by her sides.

“Playing the role of the protective mother, are you?”  When she snarled, he held up a hand.  “I’m sorry, that was out of line.  I’m on edge.  Emma and I…we’ve had a misunderstanding.”

“This is not a misunderstanding, Jack.  You broke her heart.”

He sighed.  “Norah, I tried to explain; she wouldn’t listen.”

“I don’t blame her.  I wouldn’t listen either, if

someone lied to my face.”

“I did lie,” he acknowledged.  “But only to spare her, and not about sleeping with Sarah.”

Norah snorted.

“Fine.  If you won’t let me in, will you at least talk to me?  Listen to my side?  Please.”

Norah made a sweeping motion towards the porch.  “By all means.  I’d love to hear how you’ll spin it.”

Jack just shook his head and sat.  When Norah joined him, he began to tell her everything, leaving nothing out.  When he’d finished she sat, looking at him for a long, long minute.  Finally, she nodded slowly at him.

“I don’t know if I believe you.”  When he opened his mouth, she pointed a finger at him and continued.  “I’ll have to think about it.  I believe you do care for Emma, at least a little.  And I know enough about Sarah to agree she’s capable of something like this.”

“I love Emma.”  He said it so bleakly that Norah felt a moment’s pity.

“Maybe you do.”

“If I could just talk—“

              “No.  There are a few things I’m sure of.  I know Emma is in love with you.”  When Jack’s eyes filled with desperate hope, she pitied him a bit more.  “I also know you broke her heart this morning.  She’s already had to deal with this kind of heartache once.  She trusted you-and so did I-not to hurt her.  You promised you wouldn’t.  I should roast your balls for this.”

He
felt them shrivel and winced.  “I know.  And

I’ll never forgive myself.  But she’s still so hurt from

before that she won’t listen long enough to understand

me.  It’s like she’s putting that pain with this pain and refusing to make a distinction between the two.”

Norah nodded, thinking there was some truth in what he said.  “I’ll have to think about it,” she said again as she stood.  “If I decide I believe you, I’ll talk to Emma, try to help her understand.  That’s the best I can do for now.”

Jack nodded.  “It’s more than I expected.  Thank you.”

Norah gave in and cupped his cheek.  “I can see you’re hurting, too.  I’m sorry.  I’m going back inside to warm up and check on Emma again.  While you’re gone, it’ll give her a chance to settle, to think.  You’d better go now, before she wakes up.  Besides, you have a plane to catch.”

Jack cast a longing glance at the door and walked back to his car.

Chapter 25

              Emma haunted her room for the next two days.  She didn’t eat and barely slept.  She spoke to Norah only when spoken to.  Her hair hung dark and lank around her shoulders and her eyes were listless.  The shadows under them grew worse.  Finally, she dragged herself into Norah’s bedroom.

             
“Thank God, it’s alive,” she greeted Emma with a smile of relief.  She’d been getting worried.             

             
“You have a photo shoot later today.”

             
“Actually, that’s been rescheduled.”  She gestured to the small suitcase open on the bed and began to pull clothes out of the closet.  “David,” she said, “needs me to fly to LA to formally commit to
Jilted
.  My plane leaves in four hours.”

             
Emma frowned.  “I don’t remember getting an email from David.”

             
“No, I don’t suppose so.  I got one yesterday and confirmed the details.”

             
“I’m sorry.  I should’ve been on it.”  Her voice was a little rusty.

             
Norah shrugged.  “No problem.”  She tossed another pair of slacks in the suitcase.  “I have the meeting tomorrow and a dinner thing after that.  I’ll be on the redeye back here.”

             
“Should I come with you?”

             
She shook her head.  “Not necessary.  Stay here, try to pull yourself together.”

             
Emma winced.  “Yeah.  Listen, I’m sorry about falling apart like that.”

             
“Honey,” Norah snapped the suitcase closed

and placed firm hands on Emma’s shoulders.  “You’re

entitled to fall apart when you’ve been hurt.  I just want

you to be OK.”

              “I know,” Emma sighed.  “I will be.”

             
“Good.  Maybe when I get back you’ll be more like yourself.  I’m tired of checking business emails all damn day and I’m tired of my own cooking.”

             
Emma managed a weak smile as she trailed after Norah down the stairs.

             
After Norah left, Emma wondered around the living room, folding a blanket, straightening a bookshelf.  She was hobbling like an old woman, she thought.  Walking slowly, painfully, like her joints were aching and stiff. 

             
It did hurt, she admitted to herself.  Her body felt broken and used.  So did her heart.  She rubbed her chest as she stopped in front of a mirror.

             
She did a double take.  “Holy shit,” she muttered out loud.  “I look so bad I scare myself.”  Well, she could fix that.  A long, hot soak in the tub, a good night’s rest would help.             

Her phone sounded with an incoming text and she glanced down at it.  It showed twelve missed calls-all from Jack-and thirty texts.  It also showed eighteen business emails and she cringed.  She had to pull herself together before Norah fired her.

              She began scrolling through the texts as she went upstairs.  Most of them were from Jack, asking her to answer her phone or text him back.

             
No, thank you.

             
She saw a couple from Chris and she decided she’d call while the tub was filling up.

             
“Emma!” He sounded pleased to hear from her, but she could hear muffled laughter in the background.

             
“Is this a bad time?” She checked the water temperature and adjusted it till steam began rising.

             
“Not at all.  We were just about to eat dinner in and watch a movie.  Lazy night.  It’ll keep.  What’s wrong?”

             
“Why do you think something’s wrong?”  She poured a dollop of jasmine scented oil under the stream of water.

             
“I hear it in your voice; you sound so sad.  Tell me what’s wrong.” 

Tears pricked her already sore eyes.  “I did it again,” she said in a small, tight voice.  “I fell in love with the wrong man.”

              Chris’s voice went soft.  “What did he do?”

             
Emma told him, her voice hitching a bit, and managed to hold back all but two of the tears.

             
When she was through, Chris swore.  “Are you OK?”

             
“I’m better than I was.  I’m not running away this time.  I thought about it,” she admitted.  “I thought ‘bout goin’ right on back to Mama’s.  But I have to see this through, face it this time.  Face Jack when he gets back.  And I can’t quit on Norah again.”

             
“I’m glad you’re thinking like that.  I know lots of the same people he does.  Want me to smear his name, his reputation for you?”

             
The genuine offer surprised a laugh out of Emma.  “No,” she told him.  “I don’t want to hurt his career.  But thanks for the offer.  Go on, now, and eat.  Tell your Luke I want to meet him soon.”

             
“How do you know he’s my Luke?”

             
“’Cause I know you just like you know me.”  They shared a quiet laugh.  “I love you.”

             
“Love you, too.  Call if you need me.”

             
Emma disconnected and looked down at the

clothes she’d worn for two days.  Her nose wrinkled. 

Off came the gray sweat pants and blue NYC

sweatshirt.  She stuffed them in the hamper and turned off the faucet.

              She sighed as she slid into the hot, fragrant water.  She’d just lay here and let the heat soothe some of the pain away.  And then she’d take the other half of that Ambien, go to bed, and forget for a while.

***

              She awoke the next morning groggy but more rested than before.  She moved to the closet and decided she would primp a little, see if that could help boost her mood.  She chose a pair of black pants and a cowl neck sweater in forest green.  After pulling on low heeled black boots she went into the bathroom to tackle her hair.

             
She grimaced and grabbed a comb.  She finally got the worst of the tangles out and her hair fell in loose curls down her back.  She was still pale, so she added a careful layer of makeup.  Satisfied, she headed downstairs.

             
Emma sat her laptop and phone on the kitchen table, determined to catch up on work.  She brewed a pot of coffee and thought about breakfast, but knew she wouldn’t eat it.  She still didn’t have an appetite.

             
She sat with her cup and opened her email.  There was one from Norah, letting her know she’d touched down in LA and giving the arrival time of her return flight.  Emma put the information into her phone and moved to the next.

             
She confirmed the reschedule of the photo

shoot and saved an offer for an interview with
US

Weekly
for Norah to look at later.  Her phone signaled

an incoming call.  With a glance at the screen, she declined.  She would not talk to Jack, not when she was winning the battle of tears at the moment.  A text followed, so she clicked the phone to silent.

              Emma shot off an email to her mother, telling her how the movie was going and that she wanted a nice souvenir from Alaska.  Ann was set to leave in ten days.  Emma hoped she wouldn’t call; she wouldn’t be able to convince her mother nothing was wrong.

             
Thoughts of Jack would try to break through her resolve; she beat them back.  She promised herself she was through crying, and remembering the good times would only prolong the hurt.

             
She knew that from experience.

             
She poured more coffee and got back to work.

Chapter 26

              When Emma surfaced from catching up on emails and paying bills, she was surprised to see it was early evening.  She’d worked straight through lunch.

             
It didn’t matter.  She wasn’t hungry.  But, she knew, she had to eat something.

             
She scavenged in the pantry and found a can of potato soup.  Good enough.  She dumped it into a bowl and heated it in the microwave.  She carried the simple meal and a bottle of water to the couch and flipped on the TV.

             
She ate mechanically, not tasting the soup.  She left the TV on CNN and sat the empty bowl on the table beside her.  She drifted off listening to about the latest activity in Palestine.

***

              It was midmorning before Emma awoke.  She stretched and groaned.  Her neck was so damn stiff.  At least she was catching up on her sleep, she thought wryly.

             
She went through the same routine as yesterday, this time choosing jeans and a cardinal red sweater.  She twisted her hair into a braid and fixed it with a small, matching red ribbon.

             
Emma wandered back downstairs, deciding to do a little cleaning.  Norah was not the type to sweep or dust, so she had a few days’ worth to work on.  She pulled out her cleaning supplies, but the smell of lemon furniture polish had her fumbling the bucket.  She quickly shoved it back in the closet and slammed the door.

             
Damn painful memories.

             
She heard someone knocking and checked her watch, wondering if Norah had caught an earlier flight.  Even if, she wouldn’t knock.

             
She found James on the other side of the door.  His blond hair looked messy, as if he’d been running his fingers through it.  His bright green eyes warmed with relief when he saw her.

             
“Well, thank God.  Now I can let him know you’re still breathing.  I swear he’s called me once an hour all morning long.”

             
Emma motioned for him to come in out of the cold.  He shrugged out of his coat and threw it on the back of a chair.  He grabbed her hand before she could turn away.  “Why have you shut him out?” he asked gently.

             
She just looked at him.  “He didn’t tell you his story?”

             
“He did,” James acknowledged as he followed Emma to the kitchen.  “He says you won’t believe him.”

             
“He’s right.”

             
“I can see where it might be hard for you.  But maybe, if you’d stop and think about the—“

             
“I did think, James,” she interrupted quietly.  “I thought about it all night before I went over there.  I gave him the chance to tell me.  He lied to me, to my face.”  She sat in a chair and propped her chin on her fist.

             
He sat across from her.  “He told me.  He’s torn up over it, Emma; he’s hurting badly.”

             
“Oh
, he’s
hurting.”  She could feel the tears

welling so she rubbed the heels of her hands against her

eyes.  Damn it, she wouldn’t.  “I guess you want me to

call him up, coo at him that all is forgiven.”  She let

anger take over; it was better than crying.  “If that’s what you came over for you can just leave.”

             
“Hold on.”  He held up a hand.  “Calm down.  He asked me to come over and make sure you were all right.  He’s frantic because he can’t reach you.”

             
“I don’t want to be reached.”

             
“Understandable.  I’m just going to text him that I’ve seen you, spoken with you, and you’re OK.  See?”  He showed her the message and, when she nodded her approval, hit send.  “Now, I want to talk to you.”

             
“James.”