“Yes,” Jaimie said.
“I’m sure there’s more to it than, you know, than a professional thing.”
“There is,” Jaimie said, finally achieving a tone as glittery as a rhinestone bracelet. “He’s incredible in bed.”
“Oh.”
“Not ‘oh,’ Lissa. I mean, incredible. A-may-zing!”
“Jaimie. Sweetie—”
“See, it’s embarrassing to admit, which is why I’m stumbling with the words here, you know? But the sex…” Her throat constricted. She was going to be sick and that could not, must not happen until she got off the phone. “The sex has been the best ever. And—and you know me, Liss, I have to have a logical reason for everything and that means sex, too, so—so—so—”
It was no good.
Jaimie began to sob.
“Oh, sweetie. Oh, Jaimie. You get on the next plane and fly out here, you understand?”
A dull rumble sounded at the far end of the hall. By now, Jaimie recognized it.
It was the private elevator.
Zacharias was home.
She sat up straight. Reached for a handful of napkins. Wiped her eyes. Blew her nose.
“James?”
“Lissa.” A big smile. Lissa couldn’t see it, but Jaimie stretched one over her lips anyway. “I am fine.”
“You’re not.”
“I am.” Her nose was leaking; she wiped it with the mass of already soggy paper napkins. “I’m angry, that’s all. Not hurt. Angry.”
“You don’t sound angry.”
“Give me a break, Lissa. How does a person ‘sound’ angry? I am totally pissed off. At Caleb. At Zacharias. I mean, didn’t it occur to anybody to let me in on the game?”
“Look, I know you’re upset—”
“You don’t know any such thing. I’m a big girl. I’m all grown up. This was just something that happened, that’s all, and it’s been f-f-fun while it lasted, but…”
But, another couple of words and she’d be sobbing again.
The elevator doors whooshed open.
“Liss. I have to go.”
“Call me later, OK?”
“OK.”
“And if you need me—”
“OK,” Jaimie repeated, and ended the call.
“Jaimie?”