Waiting for Jo (14 page)

“So, what should I do in the mean time? I
feel like a sitting duck.”

“Be vigilant. Right now, you are your best
defense. Don’t walk to your car alone. Keep your doors and windows
locked. Tell your neighbors to keep an eye out for anything that
seems unusual. And if anything else happens, call me.” Detective
Dollarhide takes a business card from the holder on the front of
his desk and hands it to me. “My cell phone number is on there
too.”

He stands up, indicating that our meeting is
over, and I follow suit.

“Thanks,” I say.

“Let me walk you out,” says the
detective.

We walk out to the reception area, and we
shake hands again. “I will be in contact with you, Miss
O’Shea.”

“Thank you, Detective. I look forward to
hearing from you.”

Chapter 1
8

James’ black beamer pulls into my driveway
right at 7:00. I walk out of my door and head to the passenger side
of the car. Surprisingly, James gets out and opens the door for
me.

“You look very nice,” he says as he gives me
a good once over. I was worried that the short, curve-hugging
cocktail dress was a little much, but I guess I did a good job on
my outfit tonight. “I think these guys are going to like you.”

James is flirting with me, which is supposed
to be off limits, but I can’t help but smile. I then think about
Will and feel guilty for enjoying the attention.

When we arrive at Cafe Monarch, the
prospective clients are there and have already been seated. Both
men are middle aged and it shows. Carl is mostly bald, and his face
looks like it has suffered from years of sun exposure. Tim is also
pretty close to bald, but he’s not as bad off as Carl.
Unfortunately for him, he has an enormous gut that is seriously
testing the tensile strength of the fibers of his shirt.

The two men stand to greet us as we approach
the table.

“You must be Jo,” says Tim. He reaches his
hand out to shake mine and takes a good long look at my
cleavage.

I force a fake smile onto my face. “I am. And
you must be Tim. I’ve heard a lot about you, and I’m excited to
meet you.”

I then introduce myself to Carl whose eyes
also seem to be laser pointed at my tits.

Tim orders a bottle of wine and we finish it
before our food even arrives. When the waiter arrives with another
bottle, I refuse his pour. I think it’s generally a good idea to
remain sober when meeting with people in a professional
setting.

“Don’t be a prude. Have some more!” Carl
says. I try and refuse, but he takes the liberty of filling my
glass.

And then Tim chimes in. “Yeah, don’t be shy,
honey. We’re here to have a good time.” I flash my fake smile again
and take a small sip. There’s nothing more unattractive than a
desperate man encouraging a woman to drink.

The rest of the meal is spent listening to
Carl talk about his sports cars and yachts (I guess perpetrating
financial crimes pays off) and moving my chair farther and farther
away from Tim who seems to just keep moving his closer and closer
to me.

After about an hour and half we are finally
free. I shake hands with the two hopeless men and pretend that I
enjoyed meeting them. James says his goodbyes and we head to the
car.

James slides into the driver’s seat and puts
his hand on my bare knee, stroking it with his thumb. “Thanks for
coming tonight. You did really well. I bet they’ll call tomorrow to
hire us.”

I freeze.

This is exactly what I talked about in the
e-mail. The flirting, the touching, it’s just too much for me. It’s
blurring the lines, and it’s not fair to me. I look down at his
hand and then look him in the eye. He looks back at me and keeps
his hand on my leg, almost as if he’s daring me to tell him to
stop. I think of Will, and I want to tell James to keep his hands
to himself, but I can’t muster the courage. James is playing a
game, and like always, he’s winning.

“You’re welcome, James,” I say meekly. He
finally removes his hand from my knee. I feel powerless and
ashamed. So much for my attempt at laying down the law.

We sit in silence for the rest of the car
ride home. I unbuckle my seatbelt and have my hand on the door
before his car even comes to a complete stop in my driveway.

“Thanks for dinner. I’ll see you on Monday,”
I say.

I hastily open the door, get out, and then
dash toward my porch. James gets out of the car and follows quickly
behind me. What is he doing? Why doesn’t he just leave?

“Not so fast there.” James grabs my wrist
preventing me from going inside. He pulls me close to him, hugging
me and gently stroking my back as he kisses the side of my neck. I
should stop him, but I can’t. The familiar pressure of his lips on
my skin is nearly irresistible, and I so want to invite him in. I
want to unlock this door, pull him inside, rip off his clothes, and
do ungodly things to him. But I don’t. Somehow, I manage to stand
my ground.

“You smell so good,” he says.

“James,” I whisper. He ignores me and moves
his mouth to my collar bone.

“James. Stop. You need to leave.”

His arm moves down to the small of my back,
and his grasp on me tightens. “Jo. C’mon. Let’s go inside. You want
this just as much as I do,” he whispers in my ear.

“No, James,” I say as I pry myself away from
him. “This isn’t how this works. You don’t get to just have fun
with me when it’s convenient for you and then toss me aside when
it’s not. Go home!” I retrieve my keys from my purse and open the
door.

“Jo, don’t be like this,” he says as I enter
my house.

“I’m sorry. I have to do what’s best for
me.”

I close the door and lock the dead bolt. I
hold my breath and stand at the door until I hear the engine of the
beamer start. I sigh with relief knowing that he’s gone.

I’m proud of myself for putting my foot down,
but I also feel incredibly guilty for allowing things to get as far
as they did. I could have removed James’ hand from my knee. I could
have pushed him away when he hugged me much sooner than I did. And
why didn’t I just tell James that I’m seeing someone else? No
matter how I try to justify my actions in my head, I know that I
was wrong. Will probably thinks that I spent the night at home
watching TV or developing photos in my dark room, not getting
kissed by my ex-boyfriend on my porch. A voice in my head confirms
what I already know. You’re a terrible person, you’re a terrible
person, you’re a terrible person. I wish it wasn’t true.

Chapter 1
9

I’m so exhausted from the stress of the week
that I find it almost impossible to get out of bed the next
morning. At 10:38 Malcolm starts crying, and I finally get on my
feet so that I can let him out. Looking up to the corner of my
window I see a cobweb that’s illuminated by the morning sun. I’m
going to pretend it’s not there. I typically like to get up early
on Saturday and take care of some light cleaning and laundry, but
that just isn’t going to happen today. Will is picking me up at
noon to go to an art fair, and then we’re going to have a late
lunch at Brio. I better get my ass up and get ready.

I try hard to shake off the funk I feel
before Will arrives, but when I see his bright, handsome face at my
door, I want to burst into tears. I give him a big hug and try to
ignore that stupid, gnawing voice. He’s done so much for you. How
could you do that to him? You’re a horrible, selfish person.

I hold it together and push the voice out of
my head.

“I missed you! How are you?” I say.

“I’m fantastic. And I missed you too, baby.”
He kisses me and gives me a long, strong hug. “Are you ready to
look at some art?”

I try my best to stay positive. “I sure am!
Let’s do this!”

After just a few minutes of being with Will,
I start to feel better. He tells me a funny story about a customer
who got drunk at the Alcove and took a dip in the fountain off of
the back patio. He always seems to cheer me up.

We spend about an hour and a half at the art
fair. Will engages in conversation with several of the artists, and
I watch in awe as he discusses his interest.

“I’m sorry. You must be so bored right now,”
he says to me after debating the legitimacy Jackson Pollock’s work
with another artist for about twenty minutes. “I should be paying
more attention to you.”

Geez, this man is sweet. “I’m not bored at
all, Will.” I take his hand in mine. “In fact, I love watching you
talk about art. I don’t know that many people who are so passionate
about something. It’s refreshing to see. It also doesn’t hurt that
you’re smart. And hot.” I put my finger on my chin, pretending that
I’m thinking. “Yeah, the hot part really helps.” I laugh loudly at
my own joke.

“Thanks,” he responds with a big grin on his
face. “Your hotness helps too.”

***

I frown as I look at the prices on the menu
at Brio while we wait for a table. I knew this place wasn’t cheap,
but I didn’t know just how expensive it was.

“What’s wrong?” Will asks.

“Maybe we should go somewhere else. This
place is kind of pricey.”

“Don’t worry, babe. I’ve got it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! I’m sure. Stop being weird and just let
me buy you lunch!” I can tell that Will is annoyed, but I know
about his financial situation, and I feel bad having him pay for
such pricey food. I’d be happy eating more PB&Js with him in
the park.

As I fold the menu I see James out of the
corner of my eye. Shit! Just when I’ve managed to take last night’s
events, package them up in a box, and store them in a dark corner
of my mind, he appears. James is sitting at the bar with his
golfing buddy Rick. I quickly turn my back to him and hope that he
doesn’t notice Will and me. The last thing I want right now is to
deal with the awkward situation that will surely develop if James
comes over. Where is the damn hostess? Why haven’t we been seated
yet?

James and Rick get up from the bar and start
walking toward the door, which just happens to be where Will and I
are standing.

“Well, hello there, Jo,” James says.

“Hi, James. Hi, Rick,” I say flatly. “This is
Will.” Will extends his hand, but James pretends to not see it.

“Will, you look familiar. Wait, you’re that
guy from the Alcove. The one that ruined her dress,” James laughs
while the rest of us remain silent. “Thanks again for coming with
my last night, Jo. I got a call from the client this morning and
we’re good to go.” James looks directly at Will as he talks.
“Anyway, you two have fun on your date. I’ll see you later, Jo.” He
then conspicuously looks me up and down. What an ass. He doesn’t
want a relationship with me, yet he’s trying to sabotage my chances
with someone else. What is wrong with this man?

“Sir, your table is ready. Right this way
please,” says the young hostess. I welcome the interruption.

“Bye, James,” I say as I take Will’s hand and
follow the hostess to our table. “I’m sorry about that, Will. I
don’t know why he has to be such a jerk.”

Will doesn’t respond until we’re sitting at
the table. “That’s your ex-boyfriend, right? Were you with him last
night?”

I take a sip of ice water before answering.
“Yes and yes. I went to dinner with him and potential clients. He
wanted them to meet me since I’ll be doing a significant portion of
the work on their case.”

“Why didn’t you mention it? I mean, it would
be nice to know that the woman I’m dating is out with her ex.”

“I wasn’t ‘out with my ex.’ I was out with my
boss who happens to be my ex. And it wasn’t like I was hiding it
from you. I just hadn’t mentioned it.”

Will is silent for a few moments and won’t
make eye contact with me. I’ve never seen him upset and it’s very
unnerving.

We order our food and eat in almost complete
silence. I can’t stand it anymore, and after the check arrives I
reach across the table and hold his hand.

“Please don’t be upset with me,” I beg.

Will withdraws his hand. “You know, Jo, it’s
hard knowing that you’re around him every day of the week, but I
would never ask you to quit your job. However, do you really have
to wear that necklace he gave you? I’ve never seen you without it.
Why do you always have to wear something that he gave you? It makes
me feel like you aren’t over him and that I’m stupid for trying to
be with you.”

“You’re not stupid, Will. It’s just a silly
piece of jewelry. I’ve gotten so used to wearing it that I don’t
even think about it. And you haven’t even asked me to stop wearing
it! Maybe that’s what you should have done instead of getting
pissed at me.”

Will goes silent again. Typical man.

“Just take me home now!” I demand.

“Fine! No problem!” says Will as he rises to
his feet and storms toward the door. This is certainly going to be
a fun car ride.

Chapter
20

I don’t hear from Will the rest of Saturday
or Sunday. I try to distract myself by taking Malcolm for a long
walk, putting up some photos on my website, and cleaning up in the
basement, but none of that works. I think about going to the shed
and developing that photo that might have Dickey in it, but I’m
just too scared to be in there alone.

I decide to call Harley. She always seems to
put things in perspective for me. I toss myself down on the couch
and dial her number.

***

“How would you feel if he wore something that
an ex gave to him? Would you like being reminded of her every time
you see him? And it has to be hard for him thinking about you two
working together all day and going to dinner,” Harley says.