“Not sure that stalking usually works that way, El.” Jack shook his head. “I always thought it had more to do with obsession, like psychotic love or something. Which, gotta give it to him, he’s got good taste. You are hot. You’re beautiful. You’re smart. I see the logic.”
He gave me a light squeeze around the shoulders, then poked me in the ribs and chuckled. I jumped and yelped at the surprise tickle, and he cracked up. The jerk.
“This isn’t funny! Stop it!”
“Come on, you gotta laugh a little, babe…But maybe you’re right, maybe there’s also a fantasy about the money tied in with it, too. Makes you that much more attractive—a future with you plus full bank accounts. Yeah, I could see that. No wonder he’s holding on like a dog with a bone.”
“It’s so reassuring that you see logic in his madness. Thanks, Jack. You make me feel so much better.” If looks could kill, he’d have his arm in a sling, at least.
“Aw, come on. I’m on your side, you know that. I’m just trying to make sense of this asswipe.”
“Okay, fine. So now you know. That’s pretty much the background on Brian.”
I was lying. There was another part, but it hurt, and it would hurt Jack, and I really didn’t want to go there yet. It was too much.
“Gotta ask, Ellie. When do you turn twenty-eight? When is this cut-off date?”
This was the crux of why I was here, now. What Jack was asking now gutted me. This was my shame. But I had to tell him, and needed to tell him, because desperate times called for desperate measures. And I was desperate.
I freaking hated being desperate.
“My birthday’s April second. In about two weeks.”
“Two weeks. Two weeks? This year? Are you telling me you have two weeks to get married, or all this money is gone?”
“Yeah. That’s what I’m telling you.”
“Wow.” He was looking at me, but I don’t think he was seeing me. He went up in his head somewhere. I let him go. It was a lot to sink in.
After several moments, I put my hands on his knees and shook them slightly. “Jack, you okay? Lost you there for a few.”
He gave me a tiny self-deprecating smile and shook his head as if getting rid of the cobwebs, and chuckled without mirth. “Yeah. I’m back. I’m with you…So, got any ideas, what you want to do?” He peered at me inquisitively.
I couldn’t hold his gaze. Today had turned all my hopes upside down, and I didn’t feel like I could ask him to be our more-permanent-but-still-temporary savior. I couldn’t answer.
“Ellie, come on. Ask me.”
My eyes shot to his. Was he saying…?
“Ask me, Ellie. I’m going to say yes. Just ask me.”
“Why would you do that? Knowing that there’s a crazy man who throws rocks through your window and is armed and dangerous, with you in his target sights?”
He laughed. “You don’t know me very well yet, baby. I am not intimidated by that motherfucker. I look forward to giving him what he’s got coming. Don’t you worry about that. Ask. Me.” He pulled me to my feet in front of him, caging me closely in his arms.
“I know it’s a huge ask, Jack. But we can treat it like a business deal, if that seems better to you. A temporary agreement, just until the money comes through. And then, of course, we can do it so you get a fair portion when we end it, to make it worth the trouble for you. I only need to have enough so I can try to cover what I’ll need for Peter, coming up. Okay? We can even draw up a pre-nup to make sure it’s fair and we’re both covered for when it’s over, all right?”
His eyes had been narrowing through my roll-out of ideas, and his face got hard. “Fuckin’ ask me, Ellie.” For some reason, he seemed pissed off now. I wasn’t really sure why, but I could read the emotion with ease.
“What did I say? Why are you mad?”
“You talking about wedding and divorce in the same breath? Nice. Real nice work, Ellie. Business deal. Fuck.” He wasn’t looking me in the eye now, just staring a hole into the wall over my head.
“How can you be surprised? What is this, Jack? A romance? What the hell? I don’t get why you’re upset with me now…you can’t tell me you thought when you woke up this morning, that we’d be talking about getting married tonight. Since when did you become a traditionalist?”
He turned away from me, rubbing his face then pulling his hands through his hair. Then he laughed.
“I just...yeah, okay.” Oh, I love a man who can apologize. Are they all incapable of it, or just the ones I’m lucky enough to know?